#I know it totally is the straight boy theatre song | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notyourdayrdream · 3 years

Text

Summer’s Almost Over (So Come Spend it with Me)

Day Twelve, Side A: Exacerbate

read it here on AO3!

Blaine Anderson’s never been lucky in love.

His first crush was in third grade on Jim Hawkins from Treasure Planet. Oh he’d almost burned the DVD out from watching it too much. His crush ended when his brother accidentally broke the disc and Blaine couldn’t watch the animated teen anymore. Plus, all of the other little boys were crushing on girls, ones that were real and not animated. Most importantly they were girls. So he put crushes on the backburner for a while.

His next crush was in seventh grade, on Joey Partmon. Joey was new from Texas, which may have well been a foreign country to him and the other private school kids Blaine went to school with. He was tanned under his school mandated uniform, with dark freckles and floppy red hair. Blaine loved his deep southern accent and the way he twirled his pencil around in his hand when he was bored. They weren’t close, Blaine wasn’t outgoing enough to say ‘hi,’ and Joey moved away that summer. But he did dream about kissing him on more than one occasion. That’s when he realized he was gay.

Freshman year’s candidate was Ryan Night.

He went to a public school then. He and Ryan were the only two boys in their choir, which already put a huge target on their backs, not to mention the fact they were both gay. Blaine still doesn’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, but he was able to hide it. Ryan wasn’t as lucky. But it didn’t matter, they were friends, brought together by this horrible thing they had to deal with. The whole situation turned into something beautiful. So when Blaine asked Ryan to homecoming, he expected everything to go fine.

He’d be proved wrong, of course. So he took a break from crushing for a little while. In fact, he took a break on everything, for about a year.

Everything was different when he came to Dalton. The kids, the students, the zero tolerance bullying policy. It all kept him safe. So he joined the Warblers and became their leading man, not because he was gay or straight, but because he was good. They kind of idolized him, and he suddenly had this giant group of friends. That’s when he met Jeremiah.

Maybe it was because he was finally out and proud, but his crush on Jeremiah felt so different. It was almost like love. He was older and wiser than Blaine, and so so cute. And as the days ticked on and the boy was all he could think about, he decided he had to do something, and he had to do something big.

Safe to say that totally backfired. Blaine promised himself to never let a crush get that serious again, not until he was sure. And that plan had worked, until now. Because he met Kurt Hummel.

They actually met at NYADA, at a Midnight Madness competition.

Blaine had been dragged there by his friend Leslie, who wasn’t actually a singer but a dancer, she just liked drama. So he went, dressed in sweatpants and a Dalton hoodie, and sat in the back. The whole place was honestly just a giant fire hazard, and the heat from the candles was making him sweaty. They were waiting on someone apparently. Rachel Berry, the senior who had won last year. Blaine knew she had a reputation of being a diva, but good Lord she was taking forever. The crowd of theatre geeks was becoming antsy.

“Wait!” The door opened and shut in a swift motion, blowing out a few candles by the entrance. The young man’s chest heaved, like he had just run all this way. “Rachel’s out sick. But I’m here, I’ll do it in her place. The dim light blocked out most of his face, but Blaine could see the outline of him; slim and tall with a smile that lit up the room. Was it weird to be attracted to a shadow?

The moderator nodded. “That’s fine, Kurt, we just need someone to challenge you,” he said. Kurt stepped into the ring in the center of the room and took Blaine’s breath away.

It had to be illegal to look this good at twelve in the morning. Whereas everyone else was dressed in casual clothes and pajamas, Kurt wore tight jeans and a cream sweater so soft Blaine wanted to reach out and touch it. His pale skin was painted tan from the candlelight and his hair stood so high and perfectly coiffed on his head Blaine was sure it must have taken hours to fix.

“I’ll do it,” Blaine offered, cringing at himself when every pair of eyes turned to him. He could have smacked himself in the forehead. He didn’t come here to compete, he didn’t even come for the drama. He was going to horribly embarrass himself and be forced to switch careers. Slowly and on shaky legs, he made his way to the center of the room.

Kurt smirked and said, “You’re going down.” But his eyes were gleaming with mischief. Blaine almost smiled himself, but the moderator whispered that Kurt will go first and Blaine could sit back down. The song is announced, or whisper-yelled, to be “On My Own” from Les Mis.

The music started and Kurt took a moment to close his eyes, drinking in the silence before performing. And then he sings. He floated atop the song like a leaf across water, dipping in and swirling through the melody. He sounded like he might cry, and Blaine felt a tear threatening to slip out of his eye. That’s when he knew he wouldn't win. Emotional ballads had never been his thing. And when only fifteen people gathered on his side of the room and waved their hands in silent applause, he didn’t care.

“Hey, Blaine is it?” Kurt asked when Midnight Madness had ended and students poured out the doors and back home or to bars. Blaine’s eyes went wide. Leslie spotted his fear and left without him, blonde braids swishing behind her. He was going to kill here.

“Yeah,” he replied, breathily as he turned around and finally got a good look at Kurt’s eyes. Icy blue and gorgeous, Blaine felt stripped down under his gaze. “You were really amazing, I mean obviously since you won but…”

Kurt bit his lip to hide his smile, and Blaine guilty pocketed the moment for a later time. “Thanks, but you were great too. I couldn’t imagine being a freshman and being able to sing like that.”

“Ah, I’m actually in my third year,” Blaine said, rubbing at the back of his neck. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t do too many extracurriculars at NYADA, not any he imagined Kurt would also be a part of.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” Kurt apologized, face flushing pink. “Um, I was wondering if you wanted—”

“I should go,” Blaine interrupted, feeling more and more embarrassed as this whole ordeal went on. He honestly just wanted to go home and forget the whole thing even happened.

Kurt actually looked a bit upset for a brief second, but he caught himself quickly and went back to his bright smile. Props of being an actor. “Right, well, it was nice meeting you, Blaine.” He nodded and walked off and out of the glass double doors.

This time, Blaine did smack himself on the forehead. He was so stupid. Kurt was going to ask him out, wasn’t he? Or at least for coffee, everybody drinks coffee super late. He trudged out of the doors and down to the subway, trying his best to not think of himself as a total screw up when it came to love. But he did check Kurt’s Instagram on the ride home. Just to look.

“I’m going out! It’s my grandmother’s birthday and she misses me,” Leslie said even though Blaine already knew she was leaving. The red party dress he helped pick out popped against her dark skin.

He closed his journal and glanced at his roommate.“Tell her ‘happy birthday’ for me!” Leslie just kissed his cheek in response and shut the door behind her, leaving Blaine alone for another quiet evening.

It was finally summer, another year of college completed. Blaine had decided to stay in the city instead of going back home like a lot of students did. Not that he didn’t enjoy Ohio or his parents, he just didn’t feel like the cold small talk that would follow him the entire summer. The only thing he missed was the weather. It was a scorching summer this year in New York City, and Blaine had always preferred the cooler months. The whole city felt as though it had been placed in a boiling pot, and Blaine and Leslie spent most of their days inside at work or avoiding the heat. Their nights were spent partying on Leslie’s part, or curling up to watch a movie for Blaine.

If he were being honest with himself, he had no idea what he was going to do after college. Being a Broadway actor was no guarantee, if he would even make it there. He had heard of graduates from NYADA, bright eyed and filled with dreams, fizzle out like burning stars and end up in jobs that they didn’t even major in. Blaine couldn’t end up like that, he’d be proving his dad right.

So he had a moleskine journal filled with songs. The kind of music he sang in the shower. Poppy love ballads and short and brash breakup songs, even though he had never been broken up with before. The other people who had ever heard them were Leslie and Will, an ex-fling who he had mistakenly let get closer than he should have.

A set of sharp knocks at the door snapped him out of his thoughts.

“You have keys, Les!” Blaine yelled but got up anyway. She probably forgot her keys. The knocking didn’t stop until Blaine swung the door open, gaping at the sight.

“Hi,” Kurt gasped, looking just as surprised as Blaine probably did. His hair was dripping wet, and he had...shower shoes on?

“Are you okay?” Blaine asked. “How do you know where I live?” He ushered Kurt inside.

“I don’t, and I am,” Kurt said, running a hand through his hair. “I saw Leslie leave and asked if she could help me and she said her roommate was home? I didn’t know you two lived together…” He glanced around their living room.

“Oh, we’re not dating, I’m gay.” Kurt’s eyebrows knitted together, that wasn’t what he was asking at all. What was it about this guy that turned Blaine into a complete idiot?

“Um, what did you need help with?”

“My shower isn’t working, and I have a date in an hour,” Kurt groaned. Blaine tried to make his heart stop freaking out at the mention of a date. They hadn’t spoken beyond Midnight Madness, save a nod in the hallways on the off chance they passed each other. “Can I use yours, please?” He pouted and poked his lip out, as if Blaine wouldn’t have said yes before.

He gulped. “Yeah, yeah. Of course.” He squeaked despite his best efforts and led Kurt to his bathroom. At least he didn’t have to worry about it being dirty. Leslie was a bit flighty, but they both shared their germaphobe tendencies.

“You just turn the water on like this.” Blaine twisted the knob left then right until it clicked to get the water to the hottest setting. When he turned back around, Kurt had already taken his shirt off. Blaine’s mouth went dry. When his biceps flexed when he moved to unbutton his pants, Blaine covered his eyes and shut the door as fast as he could, not wanting to further exacerbate the situation.

He was almost at his room, ready to bury his head into his pillow and just scream, when Kurt knocked on the bathroom door and said, “Stay?” So soft and barely loud enough over the rushing water that Blane just had to stay.

“I��m here,” he smiled and slid down the other side of the door until he was sitting. “What’s up with your date?” he asked, trying not to sound so bitter.

Water splashes the ground and Kurt yells through the door, “Oh, some guy kept asking me out, for like months. And I eventually just said yes.” Blaine heard a groan from inside the bathroom, and ignored the way all the blood rushed to his face. And other places.

“Do you even want to go out with him?” He didn’t mean to be nosey, truly. But the way Kurt described him, the guy kind of sounded like a dick.

It was a moment before Kurt responded. “I guess. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date, so…” There was a soft click and the water stopped pouring.

“I get that. I’ve actually never had a boyfriend before, so the only dates I’ve had are usually followed by a messy hookup,” Blaine said. He didn’t know what it was about the whole ordeal that made him want to spill all of his secrets out. His head eventually caught up to what he said though. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“Come in here.”

Blaine shook his head from the narrow hallway. “No, no it’s, that’s–”

“Blaine. Come inside.” Kurt’s voice was deep and stern, but when the door opened, he was laughing softly. Blaine thanked God he was dressed, because he was totally prepared to faint if he wasn’t.

“I have a deal for you,” Kurt said, drying his hair with a towel. “If my date goes terrible, I’ll call you. If it goes well, I’ll still call you.” He grinned and handed Blaine his phone.

It was crazy how contagious his smile was. Blaine felt his lips tug upwards as he typed a smiley face next to his name. “What’s in it for you?”

Kurt rolled his eyes with that same smile on his face and took his phone back. “Getting to hear your voice, or course.” He squeezed past Blaine, who’s limbs had temporarily planted into the floor. “Thanks for the shower, Blaine.” He winked, freaking winked, and Blaine heard the door shut softly behind him.

He smiled alone to himself in his foggy bathroom and turned his ringer all the way up.

#spaceorphan’s sophisticated challenge: exacerbate #tan lines and tan hands #glee #blaine anderson #kurt hummel #two shot #klaine fanfiction #i’m back to writing oblivious blaine #my specialty

7 notes · View notes

allkinds-oftrash · 3 years

Text

Ya girl is watching the latest HSM series ep and Imma live blog it hshshs and will add my reactions under the cut so it doesn't end up a long post. Anyways, let's goo:

AHHHH THE MORNING SHOW WITH GINA AND EJ WE LOVE TO SEE IT

They really said we're gonna let life imitate art with Nini and Olivia huh

Ricky was SUPPORTIVE??? Damnn I really thought we gonna get a classic Ricky tantrum....

But also wow sir that sounds salty and should definitely talk to someone abt how you're feeling...A therapist maybe 👀

I know we needed to contextualise how Ricky felt abt the song but I really wanted to see Nini's interview in full!!

Sebby you're so cute I do wanna see yall do DEH

Shjshshs not the rights not being available for another 5 years 😭😭

I dunno how they're in great shape and closer to the Menkies Gold after not having a single proper rehearsal, but go off Miss Jenn

Omg honestly Kourt's costumes are always amazing and on point Imma excited to see it

Kourt is such a simp we love to see it

Carlos is so pissy this episode we love to see it shshhs

Also love the way Seb calms him down and keeps him nice it's such a funny dynamic

"We had 20 people make our Belle dress over 50 hours" Okay North High shut the fuck up

I'm calling it now the reason North High knows so much is cos Howie is the leak and Kourt has been unwittingly telling him. The way her phone keeps going off as they discuss how North High knows everything is really good foreshadowing if my prediction is right

Also like her phone went off just as Carlos said "How did they know that?" THAT'S PEAK FORESHADOWING

If Howie ain't in North High, I dunno what Tim is doing

GSJAGSHAH KOURTNEY MAKING ABS FOR EJ I CANNOT

"I have abs" We know sweetie

"I PADDED THE THUSH FOR YOU" "AWW THANKS KOURT I NEEDED THAT" THIS INTERACTION IS EVERYTHING THAT WAS SO FUNNY!! I love that it is now canon that EJ has abs but no butt love that for him

Okay but like damn these costumes are great!! North High can fuck right off with its high end ones I just wanna see lowkey homemade costumes by students; I'd watch a Broadway show if I wanted to see professional costumes okay

Damn Carlos has killer eyesight clocking in that mask in the trunk

GINA BBY DON'T SAY THAT AND HAHSGSH NINI NUDGING HER WAS SO FUNNY

Nini's little look over at Gina was like "Omg you guys my girlfriend is so cute and dumb" GINI STANS HOW WE FEELING?

Miss Jenn don't be that naive, your boyfriend probably put them up to it

That Insta page is prophetic with their timing tbh; all the info is a leak obviously looking at your Howie but like the timing of it all. Those kiddos don't know that they are discussing the stolen mask at this exact moment (Kourt has put down her phone after Carlos snapped at her so Howie doesn't know they are talking abt it rn)

"We don't dance with the enemy" *cuts to her dancing with Zackey later*

SEBBY WEARING THE TEACUP COSTUME OMG HE'S GOING MAKE SUCH A CUTE CHIP (yes I am still mad Seb/Joe was robbed but Imma fangirl over the costume anyway)

Wtf why does North High look so expensive - they are literally in the same district as East High right??? How did they get this much funding

North High is a very artsy and rich for a public school; they should have had Nini go here instead of YAC tbh (like this campus feels like what YAC should have been) NOW THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN AN INTERESTING STORYLINE

Seblos' dynamic IS ON POINT THIS EP I really love my bois so much and their back and forth is hilarious

Shhshs DIANE who loves volleyball and North High okay I totally believe it

WHY ARE RED AND ASHLYN SO KINKY EVERY DAMN EPISODE TIM THESE ARE UNDERAGED CHARACTERS STOP IT

Shshsh we love Gina knowing herself and practicing self control by volunteering to be the lookout

Omg yall listen to Carlos and stfu they are so lucky no one saw or heard them yelling Wildcats

Oh no no no no no Miss Jenn you gonna get sucked in; this is gonna be so messy

Omg I saw someone post about this scene before I watched the ep YALL ARE RIGHT THAT BOI HITTING ON GINA IS SO FINE Babes go for that one, not EJ

NOT THEM FAKE DATING UGH E W TIM STOP MAKING ROMANTIC PORTWELL A T H I N G I honestly do not understand how some of yall can ship it romantically knowing Sofia is a whole underaged babey and Matty is a whole ass grown man - like I get the appeal of the Wonderstudies getting together and they do have chemistry but the irl age gap is creepy and outweighs the appeal of shipping them romantically

As I always say; Portwell/Wonderstudies should be a BROTP not an OTP

Ugh Brotp Portwell would have clocked Lily right away; romantic Portwell making googly eyes at each other isn't helping anyone

Living for Nini getting the recognition she deserves - I really like her solo arc this season she's so much more interesting without Ricky tbh

Aww Kourt you simp I love her and I'm so happy she's happy I wanna be wrong about Howie being a North High kid

Where is the mask??

OHMYGOD THESE KIDS COMING IN LIKE A HORROR MOVIE

Lily really wishes she was Jesse St. James huh; you could never Lily so stop

Andrew Barth Feldman and his cute little French accent I love him so much

Hnng Miss Jenn gonna get manipulated by this hoe. Omg wowow Zackey really is a hoe, making out with another girl before the show THE AUDACITY OF HIM SAYING MISS JENN WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH I WILL THROW HANDS WITH THIS MOFO

Wait the kids didn't steal it BUT WHAT IF ZACKEY DID

Ssjsgfajhdfg I CANNOT WITH ANDREW'S ACCENT but I can't tell if its really bad or really good but I'm also confused why didn't they just cast a French person as Antonie shshhs Antoine is adorableee and a little shit the best type of character

Lily is so annoying b y e sis bye and Olivia Keegan is talented I just wish they didn't make her character such a cartoony villain type

"How about if we bop to the top" SEBBY I LOVE YOU AND NEVER STOP BEING SO CUTE I SWEAR and Awww Carlos called him Honey I am s o f t

Hnng why do these fools are really gonna give into North High calling them chickens

OHHH NO SHE DIDN'T JUST SAY THAT ABOUT ASHLYN FUCK A DANCE OFF I AM ABOUT TO THROW HANDS WITH A 16 YEAR OLD

"She told us not to dance with the enemy. She's better than this" No Sebby, she's not *cuts to her dancing with Zackey* AND OMG THE WAY I SAW THIS EDIT COMING BEFORE IT CAME

Ooooh I like this song wayyy more whatever the mess The Mob Song became (when I first heard it drop on Spotify yesterday) Around You is such a great song musically and lyrically very relevant to these two and gosh I love their voices together

They have so much chemistry damn, go home Mike (well he technically has oop) and Mr. Mazzara

YES YOU DO MISS JENN YOU ALWAYS HAD IT

Oh god this is the scene from the trailer; she's gonna make a move on Ricky isn't she?? Leave him alone Lily he doesn't need a 3rd girl to be confused about he needs a therapist

Lily shut the fuck up with quasi; STOP TRYING TO MAKE QUASI HAPPEN

"I love Nini's song" Sure, Jan.

...Okay yes you should have called him out but don't bait him LIKE THAT oop there's the scene from the trailer

Ohmygod is Andrew Barth Feldman gonna hit on Ashlyn

Okay this is so cute but also I am VERY annoyed with the way this show handles its characters like they aren't relevant or important unless they get into a relationship or a love triangle?? That's such a shitty way to give out screentime and arcs to characters. Is it not enough to develop the characters on their own and strengthen their friendship???

HUH TIM why you so obsessed with compulsory heterosexuality??(well also homosexuality for Seblos but they are the only ones I'm not annoyed with their relationship cos its a hella big step for Disney to have a gay couple and their relationship isn't in our faces or overshadows the plot and its just spinkles of cuteness every time they interact - they are honestly who Rini wishes they were; besties in love. They are a couple that Tim should be taking notes from; leave the relationship drama in the background, focus on the theatre and friendship aspect of everything)

My mini rant aside; this is a very adorable interaction between Ashlyn and Antoine.

"TOM HOLLAND ON STILTS" GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE WITH THAT COMPARISON I AM SCREAMING ANTOINE THAT'S SO FUNNY

This is so funny he keeps picking out the hottest guys of the group; as if he himself isn't the French version of Big Red they look super alike ngl shshsh

WHY YOU RUIN IT WITH THAT ANTOINE I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU

Drama between Antoine and Red is already spicing up shshsh I cannot

Why are you so dramatic with the shuffle Lily gtfo of here...also this doesn't make sense?? She wasn't even on a BATB playlist; what if a non BATB song came on ahahah

Good to know they aren't big fans of The Mob Song like I am Awww EJ you cutie, okay I will appreciate the OG Mob Song just for you

OH WAIT HE PROLLY LIKES IT COS ITS A GASTON LED SONG TIM GIMME THE EJ SOLO I DESERVE IN THIS NUMBER

I'm being robbed of Gaston for the last 7 eps I at least deserve an EJ solo for compensation

The way the set looks straight out of Broadway but also like omg the blue lighting and fancy stage gave me intense flashbacks to that Glee episode where Vocal Adrenaline sang Bohemian Rhapsody

RICKY STOP BEING SALTY AND ACTUALLY COMMUNICATE WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND LIKE A NORMAL PERSON

OMG THE SUBTITLES SAID ITS HOWIE SINGING AS THE BEAST I FUCKING CALLED IT

Howie you hoe you gonna break my girl Kourtney's heart

Yeah...still not a fan of Antoine's Dance Remix

Yall know Gina would kill the dance number if she wasn't wearing that fit

Okay but it's Gaston led song WHY DOES EVERYONE BUT EJ HAVE A SOLO IN THIS SONG??

First the Beasts led it (Howie sounded better than Ricky ngl), then the Lumieres (their voices worked hella well together; I always forget what a talented singer Frankie is THEY NEED TO GIVE HIM A SOLO SONG) and now the Belles are going at it (Ashlyn's voice is superior)

BIG RED BEING JEALOUS AND SALTY IS SO FUNNY ITS LIKE A PUPPY BEING ANGRY I CRI

...Did anyone really win, Lily??? STFU

CARLOS IS RIGHT AND HE SHOULD SAY IT

Oooh I did see someone talk about this when the Rose Song dropped last week, apparently its illegal to add songs to a musical you're doing for a school play; I really thought the show would brush past that irl rule but I guess they are playing into it

THE WAY EVERYONE TURNED TO EJ FOR THE SPORTS METAPHOR I AM D Y I N G AND HIS FACE WAS GOLDEN! ITS LIKE THAT LISA SIMPSON MEME SHHSHSH

Okay Nini is being a little pissy about leaving her song out of the show and its a little selfish to wanna keep it at the risk of being disqualified but I also understand why she's hurt

Everyone is dog piling on her right now being against her idea and it feels like they are being against her song and her herself instead of them not wanting to be disqualified. Also like she poured her heart and soul into the song after Miss Jenn lowkey rushed her to write it. So I can see why this feels like a rejection of her and her song and why she's so hurt rather than her seeing the big picture right now

It doesn't help that Ricky said the final blow causing her to walk off

Okay maybe Zackey gets some rights for being chill and wanting the kids to be peers

THIS MOTHERFUCKER I KNEW HE WAS SHADY Also the way I gasped even though I predicted he stole the mask halfway through this ep shshsh

Stab him Miss Jenn STAB HIM

Bitch why you so threatened by East High if yall have such a Broadway-esque show planned??? They honestly should have stuck to the Little Mermaid; I really wanted to see the aquarium

"It's just a song Ricky" "A song can mean everything" Do you get deja vu? Anyone else getting intense flashbacks to Jan when DL first dropped and all the drama happened 👀

YES PLEASE STAY CO ANCHORS Gosh I love them so much esp once you take the romantic connotations out of their interactions

ROUGE GRAND I'M SCREAMING

I love this long take of checking in with everyone's relationship status (still hate how romantically focused this show has become but still a cool shot)

I K N E W IT I WAS RIGHT

Okay but like looking at Kourtney's face I have never wanted to be wrong so bad GOD I HATE IT HERE I really think he likes her and I hope they work it out

Nini setting up her own music acc feels like when Olivia rebranded her whole IG to be just for her music stuff - love this for both of them

AHHHHH SHE'S NINA NOW YALL

I know everyone loves her as Nini but like I have always loved the name Nina and it really suits her to be honest also shows how she's growing up now and kind of leans into the lyric "I won't be confined to your point of view" from The Rose Song because Nini is the nickname Ricky gave her so it shows that she's outgrowing him too and I love that for her!

Overall thoughts; they really crammed all the North High drama into one ep huh. Personally would have liked it if all of this was spread out throughout the last few episodes; like different hijinks for every episode. I'm just a big fan of properly setting up the overall arc over the season instead of patching it together closer to the climax/end of the show. Cos now it lowkey feels like two different seasons - 2A felt like The Rini/Rina Show esp with YAC storyline and whatever was going on with Rina and now 2B is finally feeling like what this season should have been all this time

#hsmtmts season 2 #hsmtmts #hsmtmts spoilers #nina salazar roberts #gina porter #EJ Caswell #Ricky Bowen #Kourtney Green #Ashlyn Caswell #Seb Matthew Smith #carlos rodriguez #Big Red

9 notes · View notes

dennou-translations · 4 years

Text

Tokushima Shinbun Interview with Yano Shougo

Interviewing Yano Shougo-san, who has starred for the first time in the topical anime “Given” and is originally from Tokushima. “I wanted to be an actor that would make people go, ‘I’m glad I entrusted the role to him’.”

Yano Shougo-san (30), who is from Tokushima and belongs to the troupe Super Eccentric Theater (SET), played a starring role for the first time as a voice actor in the anime “Given”, which aired from July to September on Fuji TV. “Given” is a heartrending story that centers itself around a romance between men from the same rock band. Having received high evaluations for his acting and singing voice, which portrayed with excellence the delicate emotions of the protagonist, Satou Mafuyu, Yano-san has told us about the feelings he put into the role and about his future goals.

Raw || Index || Ko-fi/PayPal ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

——Good job on your first starring. Please tell us again about your impressions from when you were entrusted with the leading role.

Thank you very much. Playing a leading role in an anime series was my goal for 2019, so when my manager contacted me saying that I had passed the audition, I was happy to the point of shedding tears, but at the same time, I was also relieved. I could not sleep a wink the day before the recording of episode one, and at any rate, I was nervous. On the recording day, I was thinking as I headed to the studio, “It’d be great if the recording were tomorrow”, but I got over it a little by the moment that I thought, “If this anxiety would continue until tomorrow, then it’s actually better for it to be today!” and I remember relaxing straight away at it

——Yano-san, your fragile voice was a perfect fit for Mafuyu. What did you keep in mind when performing him? Were there any points that differed greatly in comparison to the roles you have been playing until now?

Mafuyu has an extremely painful past, unable to move a single step from where he was, as he bore a huge wound. Still, he has proper thoughts and feelings of his own, as well as a stubborn side, and though he has a mild and introverted personality, I figured that he was someone who had a strong core.

Other than that, when I saw him playing basketball with his friends, smiling and earnestly absorbing himself completely in music, I had the impression that he was a “high school boy that you can find anywhere”. This was something I always cherished when performing.

I have played uke roles before, but this was the first one where so many of my lines were “...” (laughs).

——What parts of Mafuyu do you think you have in common, Yano-san, and what parts are the total opposite of you?

I think we are just a little bit alike in that we are greedy about the things we like, and we are unable to concentrate on anything else when there is something that we need to do our best in order to achieve. What I feel to be the opposite is that Mafuyu gives off the impression that he is a big shot in some way, even without speaking much, while I am talkative and shy (laughs).

——You were also in charge of singing the insert song and ending theme song.

I knew ever since the audition phase just how essential Mafuyu’s song was for the series, so rather than my being happy about singing, the pressure was much more prominent. As a matter of course, the frequency of my voice training soon increased, and learned the basics and techniques of singing as much as time allowed me to. When I was first told about the composition, I thought, “This song was made for Mafuyu’s sake”. That is exactly why, rather than the technique, I reflected about why and how Mafuyu would be singing those lyrics, as well as the emotions that would be overflowing from him, and I thought I should sing it with care, without sugarcoating it.

——What did you keep in mind when singing as Mafuyu?

The song that Mafuyu sings bears his definite resolve to face his past and live in the present, thus I believed that I had to make it into something like a love confession, so to say - a song that could be sung because Mafuyu was the one doing it. For this, of course, technique was important, but I kept in mind that it would be okay even if it was rough-hewn or even if my voice faltered, as long as I sang in a way that would spit out everything Mafuyu had been shouldering.

——Although Noitamina has produced countless master piece animes, this has been their first Boys Love (BL), a series that depicts romance between males, so was there anything you were particularly conscious of when performing?

There was not. Just as I do when performing roles from other series, I performed while keeping in mind that I was going to live in the world of “Given” as Mafuyu with all my might.

——I believe there was such a huge response to “Given” due to its painful content, but did it get to your ears?

There are many fans of the original work not only in Japan but also overseas, so I became aware once again of the popularity of “Given”. That is just how high the expectations were for the anime adaptation, and I wanted people to like it even more when watching the anime, so I was truly happy when I actually did get evaluations like that on Twitter, etc.

——The airing of the anime “Given” is over, but a movie adaptation was green-lit. Please leave a message for the fans.

The story of “Given” will continue from now on too. I hope everyone can watch over what kind of sounds will come from Mafuyu’s song, Given’s (as in the band that Mafuyu and the others formed in the show) music and their romance from now onward.

——From here on out, Yano-san, I want to ask you about yourself. It seems you wanted to be an announcer at first.

I had the vague desire to move into the television business, and from yet another vague motive of wanting to become an announcer and engage with my favorite variety show, I started thinking in my third year of high school that I wanted to be an announcer.

——Why did you aim for voice actor from there?

After graduating from high school, I took a gap year in order to attend university, and during that time, I watched “Neon Genesis Evangelion” as per a friend’s recommendation, so with this as the trigger, I became interested in anime. I had almost never watched anime until then and was unfamiliar with voice actors, so I was shocked when I read in the end roll that Ogata Megumi-san was the one who played the role of Ikari Shinji, a boy, thus I became interested in them.

——Was there anything you put effort into in order to become a voice actor?

During my gap year, I watched many animes, looked up the voice actors that piqued my curiosity and imitated their acting, and performed lines from anime and manga with as much emotion as I could. I also bought a training book for becoming a voice actor and practiced enunciation while keeping it a secret from my family.

——What are the details of your joining SET?

I was was part of a the theater research association in university, but when I was in my fourth year, I once gave up the way of an actor and went job hunting. Even so, I wanted to have a job that was related to acting, so I took the recruitment test of a major production company hoping to become a manager, but during the individual interview, the person in charge told me, “Are you really all right with giving up on becoming an actor? If you want to be a voice actor, then go study theatre”.

And so, I began wanting to challenge myself one more time, so I stopped job hunting and after looking into audition magazines, I took an audition to become a research student of SET, where I could learn the essentials for musical, action and comedic theatre. I became a research student at 23, and after about a year of lessons and a graduation performance, I became an official member at the age of 24.

——Please tell us about the works and roles you did before your voice actor debut.

During my first year in becoming a troupe member, I played the role of Saburou, the protagonist of the TV anime “Nobunaga Kyousoukyoku”, as a motion actor - the kind of actor who does the gestures that are used as base for the characters’ movements.

I also participated in the troupe’s own public performance. It was a role where I had to drink coffee and say only one phrase, “It’s sweet”. It was a sentence that connected with a funny punchline, so I had been thinking all along about how I should act it out in order to induce laughter, and even during the performance, I did many attempts.

——After that, you debuted as a voice actor in the anime “Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V”.

When I was selected, I was really happy to be able to take the voice acting job that I had once given up on. I was brimming with confidence for some reason, even though I had no experience points. But when I went to the studio, I was no good at all; I would get nervous every week and had to stay overtime a lot, so I honestly hated going to the studio (laughs). Even so, thanks to the director and all the co-stars not throwing away someone like me, who did not know left and right, and instead nurturing me during the three years of “Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V”, I changed my thinking and posture in regards of acting.

——Afterward, you became capable of being entrusted with important roles, such as in “iDOLM@STER SideM” and “Tsurune —Kazemai Koukou Kyuudoubu—“, but were there any parts of them where you could feel your own growth?

In that I started thinking it was fun to perform. Even now, I still get nervous when going on-site, but as I would read the script, think about the role and create a foundation for my acting, I feel like I have become able to perform in front of the mic by responding to the acting of the person playing the other role, without thinking about unnecessary things, little by little. The moment I feel that the air has set to motion and it has turned into a drama is, if nothing else, enjoyable. I started having challenges, aspirations and goals for myself, such as, “I want to perform like this more” or, “I could bring this role into life more if I performed like that”.

——What are the fun and difficult parts of voice acting? Please tell us about your future goals too.

I believe the fun in being a voice actor is that we can perform roles that would be difficult in filming or on a stage.

There are many things that you can only learn in a recording site. When I go to them, I find a whole lot of people who are better at acting than I am, so I have to earn a role for myself. I fail most of my auditions and get depressed each time. Even so, I want to keep showing up in those series and play a role that moves the story. I always strongly think that I want to become an actor who can make people go, “I want to use Yano for this” and, “I’m glad I entrusted this role to Yano”.

——From now on, between actor and voice actor, which one to you plan to put more strength into?

Voice actor. That being said, in order to broaden my ranges as an actor too, I think I have to take on all kinds of jobs that require technique for different facial expressions on-stage. For us voice actors, charming people are mostly those who are also charismatic on the stage, so I think I also want to become a charming actor.

——Are you able to return to Tokushima regularly even now?

I make sure to go back as often as I can during summer vacation and New Years.

——Are there any parts of your life in Tokushima that have been put to good use in your acting jobs?

I seldom have any chance to come in contact with anything related to acting in Tokushima. Even if I had interest in voice actors and acting, wanted to attend a training school or thought about going to watch a play, they were all things that could not come true if I stayed in Tokushima. That is why I created many opportunities to come in contact with acting after moving to Tokyo, such as joining my university’s theatre research association and attending a school where I could study voice acting. I think I could cultivate something like a hungry spirit exactly because I used to live in Tokushima.

——If there is anything or any place in Tokushima that you like, please tell us.

Awa Dance, I guess. I did not like it that much when I was little, but after I became an adult, the group dance I watched from a box seat was stunning, and it made me so emotional that I started crying.

Also, the park that my grandfather often took me to when I was a child, though I don’t know if it still exists. I would put rice balls and pickled horseradish in a big plastic container and go there. I have memories of eating them with cold tea from a polyethylene teapot with my grandfather, after playing badminton. I want to do the same with my children and grandchildren when I become a parent and a grandpa.

——Yano-san, since you have made your dream come true, please leave a message to the young people who are chasing their dreams in Tokushima.

Time passes in a flash. For now, please do what you can with all your might. It can be anything, like classes, club activities, cultural festivals, sports festivals or romance.

If there is anything you can work your hardest in over there, please try facing it with all you have. It will certainly become a sustenance for your life from this point onward. I believe that it is better to do something and regret it than to regret not having done it.

Should there be anyone aiming to become an actor, please take action while constantly thinking about how you can get closer to the future that you have as your goal. I think there are surely many things you can do even if you are in Tokushima.

If you do not know what you should do after doing a research and reflecting on it, have courage and go consult someone who can give advice. Nothing is in vain, but rather than spending time not thinking about anything, I believe that spending time thinking about whatever is more worthwhile.

Please do your best. I will do my best too.

——Please leave a message for the fans who are cheering for you from Tokushima.

Thank you so very much for supporting me. The other day, when I took part in a recital play being held in Tokushima, I was able to show my acting to my family for the first time. They were very pleased.

Most events are held in the Tokyo Metropolitan Area, so I believe that people cannot go watch them even if they want to. My wish for more and more people to experience an event in Tokushima and see me working has become even stronger.

I will be doing my best from now on too in order to be able to take part in more series, play all kinds of roles, get to do an event in Tokushima again someday and have people come talk to me. I will be counting with your continued support from this point onward too.

#fyeahgiven #satou mafuyu #dailygiven #givendaily #given #yano shougo #my translation #seiyuu #interview

125 notes · View notes

missinghan · 4 years

Text

radiant ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : college!au ; love-hate relationship!au ; frenemies to lovers!au ; fluff

❖ word count : 10k.

❖ warning : explicit language & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you've made a mental note to yourself never to make dumb bets with J.One again because who knows you'll fall for Han Jisung over two cups of boba?

one.

College.

That specific morifying seven-letter word can literally make someone jump off a cliff. Like straight up, Lucifer would rather drink and bathe himself in holy water than to join one of the world's most traumatizing systems. Where knowledge is being drilled into people's mind like a tattoo, and it's not even a cute one, one that you most likely will regret later.

Man, what a life.

After highschool, most people thought they were ready, physically and mentally. That's not true. Did you really think that you're ready for monotonous lectures, for back-to-back assignments with ridiculous deadlines, for cramming forty slides of the PowerPoint presentation from your professor the night before an exam just because your brain cells decided to say 'fuck it' in the middle of the lecture ?

No one's ever ready for living to torture themselves.

Not even Hwang Hyunjin. Hyunjin, the boy you grew up having him right by your window. Hyunjin, that one kid in class who would always hand people his homework whenever they asked for it. He's too kind for this world, for his own good, you often say that to yourself but Hyunjin isn't really all that great.

He too takes pain in turning in assignments to the T.A and dreads his 9am classes tremendously. But, since he's got a rich ass uncle who has some spare apartments lying somewhat near college ( as long as he preserves the place and invites someone over to help paying the bills ), he doesn't have to deal with the struggles of living on campus.

And you, just happen to have the honor to live with him. Well, more like temporarily to see how things will work out later. You despise living on campus anyway.

"What's with the long face ? Did Minho ramble about his cats again instead of working ?" Hyunjin walks into the living room before dropping his keys into the gold-accent bowl that he previously purchased from a garage sale. It's quite convenient, actually, the keys never end up under the couch or some random drawers again.

You look up from your laptop screen, sparing him a glare and focusing back on your assignment. Being a media major is equivalent to taking lots of notes and a shit ton of reading which is a pain in the ass. Meanwhile, a theatre kid like your roommate has his midterms and finals as setting up plays for school's events. Pfft, privileged people.

You don't hate-hate the idea of going to school like some people, in fact, you genuinely love learning, but you're in desperate need of another word for 'child labour' to be applied to this ... situation.

"Ohoho.. It's way worse, trust me, you don't wanna know." You lean your head sideways on one of the pillows, words slightly slurred with your cheek being pressed against the soft surface.

Hyunjin raises his voice from the kitchen area. "Did he confess his love for you or something ?"

"Jesus no ! You know he's not into me like that." You almost screech and sit straight up. "We were supposed to finish our project that's due this Friday. And guess who else was there ? Another chick showed up ! I swear that I wasn't hallucinating, he brought a new one home every other day. She said she was just 'a friend'." You make the quote-on-quote sign with your fingers to emphasize.

You pull on your own hair dramatically with all your might, hissing under your breath just by recalling it. "And whenever we had a twenty-minute break every hour and a half or so, she keeps brushing herself against him, acting all innocent about it. I was deadass pissed off—"

"Woah woah, I don't think it's that—"

You throw your hands in the air helplessly, suppressing the urge to throw a tantrum. "It is that bad, Hyunjin ! The chick doesn't know how to take a fucking hint !" Whatever, Hyunjin is probably too tired to wait for you to finish complaining about some random classmate drooling over Minho because they do that all the time anyway.

"Damn." He sips on his apple juice. "I should come over next time. Might be a not-so-shitty, watered-down version of 'Fifty Shades of Grey'."

You shoot him a glare, closing your laptop shut. "I instantly regret moving in with you."

"Why ?" Hyunjin pouts and plops himself next to you on the beige-colored couch. He reaches for the remote on the coffee table while obnoxiously sipping on the box of juice.

"Because apparently, you love weird, gross, mushy noises as much as Minho does." You answer flatly, burying yourself deeper into the white fuzzy blanket. Actually, no. Living with Hyunjin isn't as bad as you're trying to make it sound.

He might not cook, but he knows some decent restaurant with reasonable prices. He might be all over the place sometimes while panicking over an upcoming exam but at least he keeps his space organized ( unlike Han Jisung, whose closet is a perfect resemblance of World War III ).

Hyunjin throws his apple juice into the nearby bin while scrolling through the 'Romance' section briefly. And sharing the same Netflix account is probably the best decision you two have ever made. "What's worth-hating here ? No smelly kids, no not-having-enough-personal-space problem. There's good food, a cute, quirky roommate which naturally equals good company. You're living your best life right now. The only downside to this is that you have to deal with my questionable sleeping habits."

Fine. Hwang Hyunjin is cute, and a total heartthrob to the entire school. You won't be surprised if every single male student hates him with a passion ( which they do ). Not to mention, all of your female classmates would be more than happy to finish all of your assignments within two days as long as you hand over his number. Although they might want to reconsider due to the fact that this good-looking boy is also that person who records his alarm by yelling at the top of his lungs into his phone speaker.

But, a good friend wouldn't do that, because even God doesn't know what those creepy girls would do once they had their hands on his phone number. This is also why you always get dirty looks from everyone just because you just happen to be his plus-one for everything.

And Hwang Hyunjin only needs a plus-one when Seungmin decides to hate him on that day ( which is almost everyday ). So there goes your reputation. You're probably nothing but a mediocre girl who just doesn't know when not to be all over her hot best friend in the people's eyes.

Hyunjin snaps his head towards the front door when the bell rings then proceeds to turn back to his roommate, showing those ridiculously adorable puppy that naturally implies as 'Get the door for me, will ya ?'. And although all you want to do is to slap him with your laptop, you still stand up nonetheless. You undo the chains and slides the lock over before swinging the door open.

"Hyunjin, I was wondering if you wanna come see us perform this Saturday. You know, at the school's mini music festival. 8p.m. Got two tickets to spare. You can get yourself a plus-one or something." And before you - with an obnoxiously loud tone, the leather jacket and Balenciaga cap - is Changbin, who sassily brushes past you and makes a beeline towards the couch, where Hyunjin is man-spreading, wrapped up securely in his white fluffy blanket.

He lazily sits up from his previous position, receiving the tickets with half-open eyes. "I'll go. As long as 'Wow' is on schedule." 'Wow' is 3racha's first and most definitely last attempt of a love song but somehow, it's managed to get itself a special place in Hyunjin's heart. Well, more accurately, everyone's heart.

Changbin cocks an eyebrow. "It's first on the list actually." He then turns to you with a smirk spread across his lips. "Whatcha say, Y/N ? We all know your favorite line is 'Excuse me noona, do you have a boyfriend ?' from the lovely J.One." He refers to one of Jisung's lines in a love song which he wrote at the age of 16, Changbin wasn’t even 18 himself then. Good times. And now literally every girl is more than ready to throw themselves at him anytime, anywhere. Chan really didn't lie when he proclaimed 3racha as 'hot'.

You shake your head with a timid smile tugged on your lips. "I don't think so Bin, I'm having midterms on Monday, J.One can be saved later as my midnight snack whenever I wanna grill his ass for pestering me during the golden hour aka 3a.m."

Midterms sound good enough for an excuse because everyone would literally kill keep their A-s on those report cards. But unfortunately, you can't just play on the infamous SpearB that easily because apparently, being roommates with Hyunjin has absolutely nothing to do with improving your awful acting skills.

Just then, the most inappropriate, insufferable, infuriating, and other synonyms for 'annoying' clapback clicks inside Changbin's brain when an imaginary lightbulb pops up at the top of his head. "Man, you two are really out there banging each other in secret—"

And out the door he goes before you feel the need to personally stitch up his lips with your terrible sewing skills from elementary school. You close your eyes and takes in a deep breath, shutting the door behind your back while Hyunjin is too busy laughing his ass off on the couch.

This is getting to the point where you don't even need Han Jisung to be here to have the urge to strangle him, because his trash friends are no help at all.

two.

You step onto the bus with your earbuds on, right hand dropping the bus ticket into the glass box that's neatly placed right beside the driver's seat. Another day, another 4 hours of lectures and 2 continuous shifts which is another 5 hours at the café on campus, in which, sucks. But, what makes it even suckier comes right in three, two, one..

"Two people please !" A disturbingly obnoxious voice chirps right behind you. Just then, a figure dashes through the couple who are currently throwing daggers at him with their eyes. Not this again. You groans to yourself before sliding an extra ticket into the box because you definitely know better than to mess with a cranky bus driver. That boy over there really gotta pay for that shit.

Then, you take a seat beside the window, deciding to ignore the pest who just made you spend an extra ticket for his ride. You really should have taken another bus instead of the 325. Suddenly, a hand reaches towards one of your earbuds and pulls it out quickly. A puff of air hits your left eardrums like a rush of electricity, causing you to jump a bit.

"Can you stay still for a good span of 10 fucking seconds ?" You deadpan and and snap your head around. And before you - with slightly damp fringe covering his warm brown orbs, cute button nose and peachy lips ( gross ) - is Han Jisung. More accurately, the bane of your existence.

Jisung chuckles loudly at the big scowl on your face as he angles his head to take a proper look at you. You look like you just rolled out of bed, literally, not even metaphorically. Sweatpants, flannels and sneakers are the way to go if you're gonna be on your feet all day running around to serve sleep-deprived students and professors. Of course you look like a complete bum, it's 9a.m. What did he expect ?

"Aw." He pouts. "Where's the fun in that then, little cub ?"

And when Jisung reaches a hand out to pat your head, you frowns at his particularly ridiculous nickname for you and slaps his hand away. He watched the new remake of 'The Lion King' before the new semester started and cried like a total baby when Mufasa fell off the cliff, said Felix. Honestly, you wouldn't blame him because those devastating thirty seconds remain to be the most heartbreaking scene that Disney has ever invented. But still, the nickname is painfully unoriginal.

"Man, I hope you bombed your midterms or something." You speak up flatly, a slightly better retort lingering at the tip of your tongue but you're far too tired to argue with him anyway. And not to mention, your previous statement is completely useless because if Hwang Hyunjin is that kid who works his ass off to get good grades then Jisung is the complete opposite of that. He can sleep through ten lectures and still get a minimum of 90% on his exams. The perks of being a prodigy since newborn, can't relate.

Jisung feigns a painful expression, scrunching his nose up in fake agony. "How supportive of you, so incredibly validating." He cocks his head upwards carelessly, giving you a full view of his side profile.

Okay. Despite his annoying personality and questionable nicknames for everyone then Han Jisung is kinda attractive. You get it, you get it, Hwang Hyunjin is attractive but this prick is another kind of attractive.

Whenever he screams his heart out at the mic on stage, there are literal silver and gold specks floating in his eyes like an explosion of stardust scattered across the whole universe. And the way he conveys his emotions into his lyrics to perform an entire song on stage is just tremendously remarkable. No wonder all the girls always come rushing in when J.One is on stage.

Wait, were you thinking about Han Jisung or J.One ? But no, Han Jisung is J.One. It's just that J.One is slightly cooler than Jisung because he doesn't pester people until they have a cardiac arrest. Whatever, your brain is already yelling for retirement.

"You are coming to watch my performance right ?" Jisung suddenly leans over, your noses almost touching. Being the idiotic person that you are, your body immediately locks itself in place, hissing slightly at the current proximity. Great, now what ?

"Ooh." A low whistle escapes his lips. "You were too busy checking me out. It's okay, that's understandable. Not everyone can have a close-up of J.One's out-of-this-world visual." He flips his imaginary long hair and you make a gagging noise.

"I was not !" You exclaim upon embarrassment, cheeks turning into a bright shade of coral. "There's just something in your teeth."

"Uh huh, I doubt it." Yeah, he would never buy that. Jisung smiles at you cheekily and once again, Han Jisung has proved that he's the kind of guy who has the particular type of smile that makes you want to knock their teeth out. Although you can't help but fall for it nonetheless. Very typical of you. "So, are you coming or nah ?"

Your heart tingles a bit, and you feel like you can just pass out right here right now on this stupid bus in the middle of this stupid conversation with his stupid boy and his stupid smile. "No, I have my midterms on Monday. Guess who's pulling all nighters again ?" You push his face away because if not, you might as well just explode and make a fool of yourself.

"Ahhhh, why not ?" Jisung whines as if there's no tomorrow. "It's not like you enjoy drowning yourself in Kang's 40 slides of 'History of Media 101' anyway." Now, for once in a fairly long time, the bastard finally said something that wasn't complete bullshit. And you're starting to reconsider your decision because although Han Jisung is undeniably insufferable, J.One can make it up with his dope performances. But then again, you really just don't want to see his face on Saturdays.

Suddenly he rolls himself over again, his lips drawing a devilish smile. You can tell already from the dangerous look in his eyes, it's not going to end well.

"Are you in for a bet ? If I win, you'll have to go. But if you win, I'll do whatever you want me to, for an entire week. You're basically the privileged one here, don't even deny it."

three.

Changbin wakes up from his long nap to find Chan having his eyes glued to the laptop's screen as if his life depends on it. It makes him wonder how long his friend has been working on the rearrangement of all their songs for this Saturday's music festival.

"I see that you're making quite the progress." He grunts slightly before sitting up straight. The small faux leather couch that their school has in the band practice room isn't exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep on. But after what seems like an eternity in the lecture hall, tolerating the professor's rant then Changbin wouldn't even mind sleeping on the floor.

Chan slowly peels his eyes away from the screen and blinks numerous times so that he won't potentially go blind. He looks over at Changbin's slouch figure on the couch, tapping away on his phone and smiles dumbly at some memes that Minho just DM-ed to their group chat.

"Damn right, I just finished chopping up the bits of back-up vocals. I feel like my back is so fragile that it might break in half if I stand up." He runs a hand through his mop of black hair that's nowhere near the definition of 'doable' and yawns into his other palm.

He peeks over his shoulder to see Hyunjin and Felix sleeping while leaning against the mirror, Minho laying on top of Jeongin as he chuckles creepily at his phone. And Woojin is too busy singing his heart out with his guitar in the corner to notice Seungmin capturing everyone in their greatest glory, meaning when they're all a hot mess.

Changbin swings his legs over and slips into his black Adidas slides, walking over to Chan in a sluggish manner. He crouches down a bit while squinting his eyes to take a proper look at the laptop screen. Chan indeed has finished most of it, no wonder he looks ( and probably smells ) like trash. "I'll give you a hand, just send these over to me after when you got home." He says, giving his friend a pat on his back.

"Yeah sure," Chan puts a hand over his mouth to cover up another yawn. "By the way, where the fuck is Jisung ? He hasn't been answering my texts all morning."

Changbin gives him an indifferent shrug. "He said he would be on campus all day on Thursdays since he has classes and work right after- hold on he's texting me."

[ 5:23pm ]

piece of shit : where are you guys ?

baby changbin : band room, clearly you never listened.

[ 5:24pm ]

piece of shit : yeesh, I was busy you ass. texting y/n and all.

baby changbin : it was fucking 3a.m. !

[ 5:25pm ]

piece of shit : whatever, we'll be there in two.

He pauses for a while and lets the words sink in. Why "we" and not "I" ? Since when this was a plural thing ? Did all of those lectures and serving sleep-deprived students fuck up his brain cells ?

Wow, now Changbin feels bold to assume that Han Jisung even own brain cells. And before he can show the texts to the rest of his friends to make fun of Jisung while he's not here, the glass door swings open. Hyunjin and Felix jolt up in surprise at the same time, almost bumping their heads together at the creaking sound.

"We got you kids boba, wake up wake up hurry hurry SCHNELL !" Jisung screeches loudly when he pushes himself through the front door, accidentally making you bump your forehead into the dull glass surface.

You follows him inside with a big scowl on your face, quickly passing Changbin the plastic bags. Yes, you can hear the polar bears crying in the distance loud and clear but unluckily you only have two hands for ten cups of boba.

"Why boba all of a sudden ?" Minho looks up from his phone in boredom as Jeongin is utterly dying underneath, slapping his palm repeatedly against the floor in exhaustion.

Minho feels ( kinda ) bad for him and decides to roll himself over, setting Jeongin free from his miserable state. "Did you two go on a date or something ?" The youngest one's features morph into a frown, eyeing the two up and down in caution when he crosses his legs together.

You make an unimpressed face and glares at Jisung, who's currently hogging the entire black couch on his own. "Who the fuck would make their date carry everything then ? You tell me Jeongin."

Woojin stands up after craning his neck and shakes his head in disapproval. "My greatest disappointment, Han Jisung, would do that unfortunately." He walks over to Felix and Hyunjin to get himself a cup from the bag.

"Let's be honest, you'd still date him even if he does that anyway. I haven never seen any other girl who has the courage to personally rummage through his disastrous closet just to steal a hoodie." He takes a sip and smirks at the black hoodie that you're wearing. Woojin thinks you should definitely give yourself more credit because personally, he can't be bothered to step into Jisung's room, much less his closet.

You're still slightly confused for a moment there but quickly look down and almost gasp in realization. "I can explain—"

"Don't worry Y/N, if he ever mistreats you, you best believe that he's not gonna see tomorrow's daylight." Felix supplies unhelpfully over a mouthful of boba. Since when did he become such a nuisance ? But he's not entirely wrong because if no one volunteers to skin Jisung alive when he leaves you with a broken heart then Hyunjin will literally disown him. He doesn't care if it's legal or not because even a law student like Woojin would be on his side in this.

You hold up your hand defeatedly. "The jerk purposely left it on my couch back at the apartment. And Hyunjin didn't want to return nor wash it so I was obligated to do that myself. Eventually, the hoodie just ended up on a hanger right behind my bedroom door. Not to mention, I was running late earlier and had nothing to wear." You finish your sentence, realizing that your roommate has been giving you a 'wtf' face all his time.

"Out of reasons already ?" Chan chirps, raising a dark brow.

Okay.

In your defense, it's a goddamn good hoodie. The material is actually really nice that you might accidentally fall asleep if you wear this to class. You didn't mind the design on it either, kinda boyish but very funky, almost hippie looking. And last but not least, the smell of it is intoxicating, leaving you yearning for more. That's also equivalent to Jisung smells nice ( ew ) and your cheeks automatically heat up at the thought of feeling like he's hugging you whenever you wear it.

You frantically try to explain with expressive hands. "Look, guys—"

"You're going this Saturday !!" Jisung's voice suddenly booms behind your back as he declares loudly like it's the most worth-knowing thing in the whole wide world. The guys trade confused look with each other, not knowing what nonsense their friend is babbling about. Whatever, they don't have to either way. "You're going, you're going, you're going !"

You look over at Hyunjin's cup in disbelief, completely full and untouched. Meanwhile, Felix has already finished his drink in between the 15-minute conversation. You blinks and quickly comprehends the new amount of information, you lost the bet. Which means...

Screw midterms.

four.

Screw the music festival, you’re not going anywhere.

“How’s this ?” Hyunjin steps out from his room with a white dress shirt tucked inside his skinny jeans. And you hate him even more now because your roommate looks totally #boyfriendmaterial in every outfit that he’s been trying for the past half an hour. Really, Hyunjin should give himself more credit for his looks because you bet girls would still throw themselves at him even if he showed up to school looking homeless and all.

You look up from your phone in boredom. “Looks good to me.”

Upon your flat reply, Hyunjin shoots you a glare. “Good ? It only stops there at ‘good’ ? Then which item in my closet appeals to you as ‘spectacular’ or ‘breathtaking’ ? Should I just hire a personal stylist or something ?” He wants to snap at you but ends up whining like a elementary school kid that’s not allowed to drink his favorite soda from the vending machine.

“Dude, eat a chill pill.” You frown slightly at his particularly dramatic ass ( tsk, drama majors ) and decide to put your phone down. “You’re going to a music festival, at uni. Not attending some kind of award shows for celebrities.”

Hyunjin snickers before clicking his tongue. “And you’re planning on wearing that ?”

Your roommate is stressing himself over being overdressed for an event. You, on the other hand, haven’t even made up your mind about an outfit yet and your plus-one is picking you up in less than 30 minutes. And you’re still here, on the couch, in your pyjamas. Call it madness but personally, you wouldn’t mind wearing this to the music festival. Music is technically art in some kind of shape or form and only uncultured swines judge those who prefer being comfy over fashionable.

Come on, it’s art. Your pyjamas can express yourself in some sort of way right ?

“Stop shitting on my Mickey Mouse sweatpants as if it’s something straight out of the 1910s.” You protest, urging to throw the jar filled with gummy bear on the coffee table at his precious face. Mickey is definitely not going anywhere since you guys have been bonding since middle school.

Hyunjin pauses in the middle of his track going back into his room. Suddenly he turns around and smiles at you creepily. “It’s Jisung, isn’t it ?”

Yeah, no. Most definitely not. Still not him. Nuh uh. Okay… Maybe it’s because you don’t want to embarrass your plus-one because he’s also a total heartthrob. Maybe, it could be something about the fact that you’re afraid you’re not gonna look as good as your roommate. Or maybe it’s something inside the can of Redbull that you downed last night while rewatching the last episode of ‘Goblin’. You don’t even like Redbull.

Shit, you’re running out of excuses already.

“Actually, I was thinking that it’d be better if I didn’t show up.” You confess timidly, scared to meet Hyunjin’s confused expression.

When you gather enough courage to look up, he looks absolutely unimpressed and partially disappointed. “And you’re just gonna rain-check on Choi Yeonjun like that ? Changbin’s not letting this slide, I’ll tell you that.” He shakes his head in disapproval, this time turning on his heels to walk towards his bedroom door.

Something inside your stomach is tickling, as if it’s trying to tell you that you’re about to commit some kind of unforgivable sin if you don’t go to the festival. And just when you’re about to ignore it and wrap yourself up warmly on the L-shaped couch like the lazy bum that you are, your phone buzzes.

[ 4:24pm ]

yeonjun | I’ll be there in five.

five.

Only losers go to a music festival without a plus-one.

Hyunjin is one lucky bastard because Seungmin is tolerating his ass for the day. Meanwhile, Woojin is too busy pestering Felix to let him sneak into backstage looking for Changbin. And by now, everyone probably knows that Minho is secretly obsessed with Jeongin since he's decided to stick himself to the youngest like the spoiled parasite that he is. But that's not the point. Point is : you're terrible at navigation so you're obligated to get yourself a plus-one.

And he just happens to be Choi Yeonjun, that one business major who's secretly a dancer that left everyone's wig flying to Africa during last year's prom. You two have walked past each other before between periods and since he's an acquaintance of Changbin, he'd always wave back at you with the sweetest smile. You see him as a fun person to be around, kinda like a sunshine.

But what you didn't know is that, if your group of friend's chaotic energy is 3000, then Yeonjun alone is already on another level.

"Why the long face Y/N ? Enjoy the music, relax, let the night set you free !" Yeonjun chuckles at the frown on your face as he swings an arm over your shoulder. You can already tell that he's getting a bit tipsy from his tinted red cheeks and his breath smells like beer. Never knew the guy couldn't go heavy with his alcohol. Much like your roommate himself.

You peel the red plastic cup away from his hand to abandon it on some random table, dragging him away from the bar before his friend - Beomgyu, offers him some kind of sketchy looking drink. The kid is only a freshman and you feel like you should strangle the person who permitted him to be the bartender for the night.

"Alright, that's enough beer for you." You tell him mild-seriously, partially because you don't want him to end up knocked out in the middle of nowhere and partially because you can't contain someone who's drunk, not even yourself. "Let's find Soobin, I bet he's running around campus looking for your ass."

"What do you mean he's looking for my ass ? He's at home playing stupid boardgames with stupid Taehyun." Yeonjun slurs, shaking the haziness away furiously before fluttering his eyes upwards. "Look !" He squeals a little bit too loudly for anyone's liking. "It's your boyfriend !"

You abruptly put your index finger on his lips. "Shh shhh ! Han Jisung is not my boyfriend ! Watch your mouth, please, I beg." You hush him and glance around to look for any signs of Hyunjin or Felix popping out from a random bush to make fun of you. "We're barely friends, why would you think that we're dating ?!" You cry dramatically, cheeks burning with a bright shade of pink.

The blue haired boy makes a thinking face, which you think it's undeniably cute, before pointing towards the stage. "Because he's looking at you ?" He says cluelessly, giggling while clapping happily like a seal.

You unconsciously lift your head to eye the stage. Time seems to stop when you realize Jisung has been staring at you all this time. His expression is unfathomable. Your heart starts thundering loudly inside your rib cage, so loud that it overcomes the loud EDM music in the background, so loud that you're afraid he might hear it even when he's so far away.

In this light, in the middle of your chaos, there is Jisung. And he's absolutely otherworldly, radiant, dazzling, coruscating. Gosh, you can go on forever if your brain cells allow you to.

The moment he breaks eye contact, that's when you're pondering over who is it that your heart is beating for. Han Jisung ? Or is it just J.One ? Because you've seen Jisung as a total pest who never takes things seriously, who always makes you pay an extra ticket for his ride to uni, who spontaneously sends you derp pictures of him in the middle of a lecture. But no matter where you go, he would constantly pop up inside your mind out of nowhere. Like a phantom.

Suddenly, Chan's voice booms through the speaker, making you jump. "The performance of 3racha will be delayed due to technical errors. We apologize for this inconvenience." You stand there dumbly, blinking numerous times for his words to sink in. The question here isn't really 'what?' but 'why?'. 3racha take music very seriously and they're not the type to slack off any performances even if it's just for a school's small event.

You snap your head back to the stage, Chan and Changbin are talking to a technical staff, an apologetic smile blooming on their faces. But wait, where the fuck is Jisung ?

"Told ya !" Yeonjun hiccups into your ear. "What kind of non-boyfriend will cancel a performance just to come and see you like this ?" You should have gone with Hyunjin, you really should.. You bet he's not even half as drunk a Yeonjun right now since all Seungmin drinks is kombucha.

Unexpectedly, and also expectedly, you find yourself staring at Jisung, who's speed-walking towards your direction, like a complete dumbass. There's fire flickering at the back of his irises, burning intensely onto you. His brows are knitted together, his jacket hanging slightly over his shoulder, teasing you with a flash of his biceps. You also notice how the microphone is still there, in his hand.

Did he fucking leave the stage just to see you ?

Jisung breathes out a puff of smoke from the chilly air. "Y/N, got you."

Your heart actually feels like it’s hanging on the edges when your name rolls off his tongue so tenderly. "And you are ?" He looks over at Yeonjun with an almost disgusted expression, his hand instinctively reaching for yours. You don't blame him either way because Yeonjun looks like he just made it out of one of the world's most traumatizing lunatic asylum with shitty security. And Jisung wouldn't let you walk around with a crazy guy attached to you like a total creep. Not when he's monitoring.

“Y/N’s plus-one ?”

“Well that makes two of us.”

Yeonjun holds his hands up as if he's being held at gunpoint. "Easy, dude, I'm leaving. I'm leaving. She's all yours." He laughs, sounding almost too nervous to be true because Jisung is somewhat scary whenever someone gets on his bad side. Just ask Highschool Hyunjin.

"You're wasted as fuck, what makes you think that I'll let you go home alone like this ?" You say, flinching slightly when you feel Jisung tightens his grip on your hand. He cocks a brow as if he's testing you.

"Nah, I'm not going anywhere. Just gonna swing by the bar, Beomgyu probably came up with something to knock me out." Without a proper goodbye nor a hug like his normally playful self usually does, the blue haired boy turns on his heels to walk away from the scene. And you exhale deeply out of relief, not because you hated Yeonjun's company, you might actually hang out with him again. Just not where there's alcohol.

Jisung still hasn't let go of your hand yet, and surprisingly, you don't want him to. "I take that as you two aren't dating ?" He questions, studying your features more closely. You're really pretty, he thinks. Jisung has never once hesitant about using the word 'pretty' for you and he's not afraid to show it either. It's just that you never bothered to notice.

"No ? Hyunjin decided to ditch me for Seungmin and Yeonjun's a mutual friend through Changbin so we texted, and he picked me up after when Hyunjin left." You give him a weird look, confused by how pissed off he looks right now. "And I take that as you're jealous ?"

Jisung laughs humorously, his voice doused in dry sarcasm. "Huh, funny. Last time I checked, you were supposed to be backstage with me since you lost the bet, not clinging yourself onto some hot guy from Changbin's Biochem 101." Of course Jisung is pissed off. How could he not when you're all smiling and laughing with another guy, when he has an arm over your shoulder, holding you so lovingly, so tightly ? Another guy that's not him.

You widen your eyes at how ridiculous he sounds, almost in disbelief. "Excuse you ? Since when 'being backstage with you' was even a thing in our bet ?" Yeah, completely unheard of. "And I was not clinging onto him, I'll have you know that he chugged on a bottle of Hennie and ended up wobbling around like a fucking toddler !"

Your voice is getting louder and louder by the second, chest heaving up and down in anger because he is in fact, being extra insufferable tonight. You haven’t seen him acting like this since he officially declared cold war with Hyunjin back in junior year highschool.

"Oh yeah ? Then what ? You liked that ? It makes me sick to the stomach seeing you giggling at one of his stupid jokes. You seemed so fucking comfortable even when he's this close ?" Jisung tugs in your arm to pull you closer, his cool breath fanning your forehead. Your cheeks unknowingly feel hot, but you're not going to admit it to his face. "You're completely okay with this ?"

You grimace a stiff smile. "Of course I am." Oh boy were you wrong.

"Even now ?" He places his hands over your shoulder to bend down, angling his face so that the tip of his nose is brushing over yours. His gaze pierces right through you, leaving you completely stripped and vulnerable. And you hate every single part of this. You hate how you heart is swelling, how his touches burn like fire, how much effect he has on you with such minimal effort.

Jisung says with a devilish smirk blooming on his lips. "Hmm ? I don't know Y/N, you look pretty burnt up to me."

"It's because of the heat—" You instantly regret what you said when it starts to rain. Droplets of water repeatedly tap against your skin like clear champagne. A cloud shadows over you two and another splatter of rain comes along. Goosebumps rise on your skin at the cool sensation as your limbs lock themselves in place. Jisung has never broken eye contact with yours since then, specks of good and silver floating in his eyes like a brilliant explosion of a supernova.

Just when you thought your lips was gonna collide, something unexpected happens. Jisung takes off his jacket and swings it over your shoulders. He gently holds you by the waist as he hurries you inside, your gaze never once leaves his features. He's saying something but you can't quite catch it, it's hard to concentrate when he's being all affectionate and sweet to you like this.

You are far too busy telling your heart not to explode.

six.

Felix stomps over to your table and slams his tray of food down aggressively. Everyone peels their eyes off what they’re doing for the time being, throwing a weird look towards him. With a satisfied smile on his face, Felix drops his notebook onto the table. Changbin glances at him with an expressionless face, almost yawned in boredom. “And how did it go again ?” He drawls tiredly as if he has heard the same joke over and over for an entire week.

“You know that feeling when you feel like you’re completely detached from your own body and just stare at yourself from above ? I was up there, mind blank while my mouth couldn’t stop blabbering about what ever the fuck was on those slides. I ditched my Flashcards, completely untouched, 5 minutes has never flown by so quick. Boom, the professor didn’t even think twice about giving me an A.” Felix leans back on his chair comfortably after wrapping up his story.

Seungmin scrunches his nose at his friend. “Yeah sure, it’s an A. Big fucking deal.” Kim Seungmin basically has a full scholarship straight to college in the middle of his senior highschool year, you can say that he has the right to be unimpressed.

Minho shrugs indifferently, scrolling through his feed to kill some time. “It is for Yongbok apparently, give him a break. You know he hardly gets any when his brain only consists of Seo Changbin and Fortnite.”

Felix hisses at the older boy like a cat when you accidentally step on its tail, threatening to gouge out one of his eyes with the plastic fork on his hand. Minho being on his ass 24/7 just makes college that much more of a hellhole. He can’t help but roll his eyes in annoyance because no one is even trying to spare a ‘Good job’ or ‘Good for you’. He might actually need new friends, Felix ponders.

But wait, something’s missing.

Jisung didn’t even try to make fun of him. And he never missed a single chance to pester him or call him out every time he’s all giddy over good grades. In other words, his secret life as a potential nerd has been foiled thanks to Han Jisung. But apparently, girls find it hot when a nerd is secretly a dancer.

He looks over to his friend and frowns furiously. A hood thrown over his head, eyes glued to his laptop screen, Jisung looks extra antisocial today and Felix can feel something’s off because he would be jumping around, yelling into your ears by now, not making a PowerPoint presentation. “What’s wrong with you two ?” He asks, noticing how you’re also acting strange.

You’re mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, and stop abruptly at a new post from @j.one. It’s a picture of Jisung grinning while gripping on a microphone followed by a caption “Always have so much fun performing w/ my bros, @spearB & @cb97 - photo by @princehwang #SocialSaturday”.

You almost snickered, feeling the need to change it into “#TBT”. Not only because this photo was taken months ago for a summer music festival nearby Uni, but also because this bright side of Han Jisung no longer exists. He hardly talked to you since Saturday, ignored you when you made eye-contact with him on the hallways, didn’t even ask you to pay for his ride.

Basically, he’s making a fuss out of nothing. But you wouldn’t say that it feels good not having him call you ‘little cub’ 50 times a day or send you random messages during a lecture like ‘go out with me ?’. You never take them seriously anyway because he can’t like you just like that, right ? “Ask him, not me.” You raise a brow towards Jisung, earning a glare from him as a reply. “I’m not the one who’s being petty over me going to a music festival with Choi Yeonjun.”

Jisung sighs dramatically and shuts his laptop close. “Is that all you got ?” He inquires sarcastically as if he’s gonna set you on fire if you dare to try him.

“That’s what I said the first time we played Mario Kart together, isn’t it ? I totally kicked your ass, to the curb.” You protest as the blood running through your veins slowly boils. If it weren’t for Hyunjin to hold your shoulders in place, you would have thrown hands at Jisung.

Jisung slams his hands onto the surface of the table harshly, almost knocked the whole table over. “Yeah, that’s why Chan never lets you drive because you’re exactly the reason for all of our wild turbulence. Because you suck at driving !”

You feel like you’re being held in a chokehold, literally and metaphorically because you can’t even drag Jisung down to the very bottom of Hell when you’re fully capable of doing that. Not before you kill him with your bare hands.

“I mean one of us had to have the guts to drive everyone back after a party where y’all got fucking wasted. College parties are so lit, they say. Who the fuck does three keg stands in a row just to run around the neighborhood shirtless later on ?!” You clatter loudly, earning a ‘wtf’ look from the students at the opposite table.

“Who wants another milkshake ? It’s on me.” Woojin interrupts the two of you, already pulling out his wallet in a rush.

Jisung’s ears automatically turn red, and you smirk at the sight of his pink cheeks upon both embarrassment and anger. “What did you just say ?”

“Ten milkshakes it is.” Chan drags Woojin out of his seat and the two of them helplessly walk towards the canteen cashier from across your table. He’s already given up, you can tell. Because if not, he would just personally hang Jisung upside down on a tree ( his natural habitat ) so that he can cool down before he said something he’d definitely regret later.

You push Hyunjin away and stand up right, staring at Jisung dead in the eye. “What’s wrong ? Cat got your tongue ?” Are you finally getting back at him ? Is this how victory taste like ?

“Say that again and I’m gonna— ugh ! Christ, I hate you !” Jisung sounds like he’s on the verge of exploding and you’re absolutely enjoying every single moment of this.

You mock him in amusement. “You’re gonna what ?”

“I’m gonna fucking kiss—“

Before Jisung could finish his sentence, Minho pulls his friend backwards and Jisung once again lands on his bottom, onto the wooden bench. “Okay, I don’t wanna ruin the heat but at least spare some of your sanity for the sake of publicity, yeah ? You know, if you guys wanna make out that bad, there’s always a restroom.”

Sanity ? For the sake of publicity ? Well, that changes everything. “WE’RE NOT GONNA MAKE OUT LEE MINHO YOU FUCKING BASTARD ! DON’T MAKE ME KNOCK KNOCK UPSIDE YOUR HEAD, YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SH-“ You’ve come to a decision that if Han Jisung doesn’t end up somewhere six feet under the ground, then Lee Minho - aka his best friend - is taking his bullet for today.

“Woah woah, Y/N, easy girl, easy.” Hyunjin holds you back with both hands. Okay, he gets why Jeongin doesn’t want to come over whenever you and Jisung are breathing in the same room now.

Jeongin scrunches his nose as he obnoxiously chews on his tuna sandwich. “Yeah, you guys need to cool down a little bit. You know, just chill out. That’s enough for your ‘friendly banter’, let the others enjoy their lunch in peace, will you ?”

You and Jisung continuously give each other death stares for the rest of your lunch break. Even when Chan and Woojin come rushing back with five cups of milkshakes each, even when it’s your favorite flavor in the entire world, it can never put out the fire of wrath that’s burning furiously deep inside. All you want to do is to have Han Jisung down on his knees and beg you for his life like how King Stefan did to Maleficent. The only difference is that Jisung actually doesn’t have a daughter.

Is that too much to ask for ?

seven.

[ 2:35pm ]

yeonjun | hey, I need to talk to you…

yeonjun | nearby café after school ? I can just wait if you’re getting out late.

You read the message on your way out of the lecture hall and widen your eyes. The hour displayed on your screen reads ‘3:45pm’. You immediately push your way through the crowd of sweaty students and run down the hallway like a psychopath. God, Yeonjun has been sitting alone at the café like a complete fool just because of you. Now you feel like a terrible human being.

“Woah, where are you going in such a hurry ?” Hyunjin yells at you loudly when you brush past him and Jeongin.

You hastily shout back at him before continuing to run. “Don’t wait for me ! Just spare me some left over !”

When you arrive at the café, you feel like you should give yourself a pat on the shoulder because you don't think you’ve ever run that fast before in your entire life. Not even for the marathon competitions during middle school.

And the café looks somewhat different today, something smells weird too, you notice. Then you realize that they just repainted the whole thing, replacing the old teal blue color into a warmer brownish color. The walls and windows are decorated with fairy lights, like a cherry on a sundae, it’s perfect for the upcoming winter break. Because students aren’t just gonna come here for the caffeine, they’re gonna hog this place for themselves sooner or later to get at least one aesthetic photo for the holiday.

You quickly spot Yeonjun sitting alone in the color while having his headphones on, slowly dozing off to the music. His cup of iced macchiato remains untouched with water dipping on the sides. A pang of guilt hits you almost instantly when you start walking towards his direction. As you sit down on the opposite seat, Yeonjun suddenly startles and shakes his sleepiness away.

“Hey, I’m so sorry, my phone was off all day.” You say with an apologetic smile on your face, feeling the guilt keeps piling onto your shoulders. “You could just leave or something, I wouldn’t be mad.”

Yeonjun removes his headphones and laughs slightly, scratching the nape of his neck. “It’s fine,” He waves his hands at you to tell you that everything’s okay. “I really need that short nap after all. God, I was dreading my neuroscience assignment all day. But hey, I really need to talk to you, that’s why I was so determined to wait.”

“Don’t even, Yeonjun. You could have just gone home and rest.” You shake your head at him in defeat. You swear to God, he’s too kind. “What’s so important that you wanted to talk to me so badly ?” You ask while flipping through the menu. The weather has been pretty chilly lately, it might be nice to have a hot chocolate.

Yeonjun’s ears turn red at your words and he starts to dart his eyes around, scared to meet your eyes. “I— uhm, look, I just—“ He stammers with tinted pink cheeks, which you find ridiculously adorable. “I just wanted to say sorry for what happened on Saturday.” He manages to squeak out and you have to hold back the urge to laugh. “I shouldn't have drunk that much beer, right ? You should feel lucky that I left you with your boyfriend because I may or may not have thrown up all over Beomgyu. He almost kicked me off a cliff, I’m not overexaggerating, I swear.”

That’s not true. Yeonjun should be the one who needs to feel lucky because not only didn’t Beomgyu leave him on some random sidewalks, he personally called Taehyun to bring him extra clothes and had an Uber to get them three back home before midnight. He knows Beomgyu is too utterly soft for him to murder him in his sleep anyway.

You smile at him before waving the waiter boy over to punch in your order. “Choi Yeonjun, it’s fine, really. You’re so much fun to hang around. But next time, no more beer for you, get it ?” Upon your teasing, he lets out a nervous chuckle. And little did you know, he’s planning on telling you something much, much more horrendous. “And how many times do I need to tell you that Jisung is not my boyfriend ?”

“Just not yet.” He corrects you, and you’re stuck between the ideas of strangling Han Jisung and throwing Choi Yeonjun off a cliff. Or maybe both. “You guys caused quite the scene during lunch break. You two bickered like an old married couple. Not to mention, you’ve probably ended up on everyone’s social medial by now.”

Your eyes widen in terror. A tape of you, and Han Jisung yelling at each other at the top of your lungs is on the Internet. Since a young age, you’ve come to realize that nothing on the internet ever really goes away. And that thought scares you shitless. Great, now everyone will think of you two as that one loud couple who always argue over stupid things. “I’m so fucking screwed— give me a sec, someone’s texting me.”

[ 4:12 pm ]

han | where are you ?

y/n | why would that matter ?

han | you’re on a date right ? with him.

y/n | han jisung are you watching me ? wtf you creep !?

[ 4:13pm ]

han | do you like him ?

han | just answer me honestly for once.

y/n | so you ARE jealous. hah, busted.

But wait, why would he be jealous ? That makes no sense.

[ 4:14pm ]

han | so what if i’m jealous ?

Your heart stops as a small ‘huh?’ escapes your lips. Yeonjun looks at you with a confused expression, almost develops a mild interest in what made you so flustered. But he guessed it either way because it’s too obvious who’s the only person that has this kind of effect on you.

han | i was the one who asked you out first, it’s not fair !

y/n | ...

y/n | hey, are you drunk ?

[ 4:15pm ]

han | i’m as sober as i can be, enjoy your pretty little date y/n.

When everything’s already a mess, when you’re at a loss for words, Hyunjin’s abrupt call is something else more than just fuel to the fire. “Y/N ! Have you seen Jisung ?” Your roommate sounds alarmed on the other end and your stomach automatically twists into a knot.

“No, I haven’t seen him since lunch… why ?” The uneasy feeling has been ghosting your gut since you received the questionable texts from Jisung, and you’re afraid to hear what Hyunjin’s gonna say next. “What’s wrong ? What happened to him ?” You bombard him with questions after questions, fiddling your fingers nervously in fear.

Yeonjun quickly senses something’s off and reaches his hand outwards. He places his hand over yours gently, rubbing little circles to remind you to calm down. There are a thousand bad scenarios running through your mind like lightning of what could have happened to Jisung. What if he’s about to do something stupid ? What if he’s hurting, and no one ever asked ? What if… it’s all because of you ?

“Hyunjin, just fucking answer me !” You almost snapped, finding the silence on the other line extremely disturbing.

He replies breathlessly, as if he’s already given up. “He’s gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone ?” You can’t believe your own ears at this point.

Hyunjin sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. “Changbin said he hadn’t been home when his shift was supposed to end at 3. Chan said he wasn’t on campus either, nor the band room. We’ve checked everywhere, not his house, not the usual boba place, not even his favorite get-away spots. He ran away, Y/N, no one knows why. And I’m scared..” Your heart instantly drops to the pit of your stomach.

Not even his favorite get-away spots.. We’ve checked everywhere.

But Jisung would never tell them about all of his get-away spots.

eight.

Jisung unlocks his phone and sees several missed calls from his group of friends along with endless texts but his eyes only linger on some particular ones.

[ 7:23pm ]

y/n | can we just talk this out ?

y/n | this is so fucking childish of you.

y/n | I don’t care if you want to kick me out of your life.

y/n | I’m coming for you.

Jisung doesn’t know whether he should be crying or laughing. Basically, he’s emotionally restrained.

Because apparently, life is preposterous. One moment you’re laughing while being pissed off when he annoys the heck out of you. Then later you would ditch him to have yourself wrapped around another guy’s arms. Hours ago, you were on the edge of pushing his limits into the unknown and now you’re being all concerned and worried about him. He feels mildly exasperated partially because you’re playing with his heart, and partially because he allows you to do that.

He has been watching you from behind all this time. He always has so much on his mind that keeps him awake at nights but never really knows how to convey his feelings for you into words. Maybe that’s why J.One can only write love songs in vain. So being the genius person that he is, he thought ( and still think ) that the only way to approach you was to make fun of you. He can only call you questionable nicknames all day because he doesn’t have the heart to actually call you ‘babe’ in a genuine way. He would always end up spitting out something less than appropriate or stick his nose into your business because he can never fathom the courage to say a simple ‘I love you’. Yes, Jisung knows that he’s a coward for making such excuses but the thought of putting his heart into someone else’s hand scares him shitless. Not that he has never gone through a heartbreak before but the scars never really go away.

Honestly, Jisung has never thought that he would end up liking you this much. He still vividly remembers the day that you two met for the first time. It was freshman year highschool, he got signed up for a role in the drama club at the time being thanks to Hyunjin and suddenly he saw you sitting alone in a corner, struggling over a piece of prop for the set.

Even when it’s the awkward phase, you took his breath right away like ‘whoosh’, leaving him utterly speechless when your eyes collide. From then on, you’re the ‘nothing’ that people ask him about whenever he looks like he’s spacing out. You’re the only thing that keeps lingering in his mind, impossible to forget. He finally understands why people are always so giddy about their crush because once you like someone, everything changes. Like how your smile seems to be even brighter than the Sun, how your goofy laugh feels like music to his ears, or how every little thing that you do affects him way too damn much. Woah, he understands why his group of friends said that he’s so whipped for you now.

Jisung doesn’t know what to think or what to feel anymore. He really doesn’t. He hates how you keep switching between ‘the Y/N who hates Jisung with passion’ and ‘the Y/N who genuinely worries about Jisung’. It drives him nuts not knowing how you really feel about him. Jisung swipes his index finger upwards and presses the ‘Airplane Mode’ button from the Control Center settings. He can’t afford having Chan or Minho screaming directly at his ears after when he ran away like that. Maybe he is childish after all.

“Han Jisung !”

Jisung snaps his head backwards to find you standing there, disheveled hair, hands supporting on your knees with a glint of fierceness in your eyes. With the dim source of light from the Moon, you’re glowing under all of the sentimental glory that leaves him completely flustered. He’s really predictable, he thinks. Of course you’d know that he would end up choosing the park where he used to hang out with Seungmin since kindergarten. It’s also where he bawled his eyes out after his first breakup, having you rub little circles on his back and tell him that everything’s gonna be alright.

“What are you doing here ?” He asks soullessly although his heart his yelling at him to fall into your embrace.

“I told you, didn’t I ?” You say, breaths growing more even by the seconds. “I’m coming for you, I don’t care if you’re gonna kick me out of your life because I’m not allowing that.”

Jisung snickers, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “You rain-checked on Choi Yeonjun just like that ? Aren’t you afraid that he’s gonna break up with you tomorrow after finding you that you’re rummaging through the entire city to look for me, an absolute bastard who never leaves well enough alone ?”

You shoot him a stern look, brows slightly furrowed. “You didn’t let me finish, how rude. I’m trying to prove a point, don’t you see ? If I really didn’t give two fucks about you then why would I be here ? If I was really dating Choi Yeonjun then I could have just stayed at home and cuddled with him until Hyunjin kicked him out of our apartment. It’s been almost three hours, Jisung. Three fucking hours. I was running from place to place like a psychopath, got lost on some random streets, just to find you. Yes, just for you.”

He squints his eyes at you skeptically. “And your point is ?”

“I care about you.” You don’t even need to consider anything at this point and that has Jisung’s jaw dropped to the ground. “I could never hate you, even if I do, I can’t hate you for the rest of my life for my own good. Even when you call me ‘little cub’ fifty times a day, even when you make me pay for your ride, even when we almost threw hands at each other during lunch break, my feelings for you never change. Not even one bit.” You state confidently, taking long strides towards him.

Jisung looks at you with a blank expression, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know Y/N. You’re a fucking hot mess. For all I know, you second-guessed most of your decisions in life. What if you decided to pull—“ That’s it, you’re not enduring his ‘what if’-s bullshit any longer.

Without a word, you grab Jisung by the collar and pull him flush against you. When your lips collide with his, it feels like you’re being sent to the Moon and back continuously. Sparks of joy, lust, and mixed emotions ignite inside his heart when you trace your tongue over his then it explodes like a firework that lights up the eerie darkness effortlessly. Jisung slowly gives in and melts into the kiss, his hands snaking around your waist to hold you closer, feeling your warmth radiating off on his flannels. You’re the first one to pull away, hands trailing behind the nape of his neck. “I can say that giving away my first kiss is enough to prove that the only thing I’ve never second-guessed was liking you.” You say breathlessly, trying to ignore the rouge on your cheeks.

“I am your first kiss ?” He widens his eyes slightly.

You scoff at him while trying to act casual. “Be grateful at least you brat.” Jisung chuckles softly at you, slightly taken aback at your bold action as the feeling of your lips on his chills him to the bones. “Point taken.” At that moment, you quickly realize how his warm brown eyes hold their own galaxy with the stars shining so brightly that makes your heart swell. At that moment, you also realize that Jisung is your Sun because his smile alone can light up the whole celestial sphere. Meanwhile you’re his Moon because no matter what happens, you’ll always be here to brighten him up on the darkest of days.

And you both know that as long as you have each other, you will forever be radiant.

933 notes · View notes

thecluelessredhead · 3 years

Text

Sunset Curve: A Hollywood Legacy

Word Count: 2050

Chapter 2 of ??

Additional notes at the bottom.

Chapter Two

Bobby was sprawling in his dressing room, his guitar on his chest, playing with the strings gently. Occasionally, he would stretch out a slender arm and pick up a peanut. He wouldn’t eat it immediately, but hold it up to the light and look at it, as if that specific peanut would tell him the secrets of the universe. He asked once. The peanut didn’t answer.

Luke came flying into the room while he was performing this ritual. He was grumbling and speaking incoherently, but when he saw Bobby, on his back studying a nut, he stopped, and shut the door slowly.

“Hey, buddy,” he said slowly, like he was talking to a horse that might rear its head at any moment. “You okay?” Bobby nodded, tossing the peanut through the air and catching it in his mouth. “Strike out with Rose?” Luke approached on his toes, still seemingly afraid of Bobby. Again, Bobby just nodded. “She got a boyfriend?” Luke sat down on the edge of the couch Bobby was on.

Nod.

“His name’s Ray,” Bobby said, his husky voice seeming even deeper through his peanut.

“Bummer,” Luke sympathized, clapping Bobby on the knee. “But hey! No time to be sad! We go on at the Orpheum in an hour!”

“Yeah!” Bobby sat up, looking suddenly energized. Then, he registered Luke for the first time, who was dripping wet. “What happened to you?”

“It’s pouring outside,” Luke answered.

“Good or bad?” Bobby asked, all business.

Luke grabbed a handful of peanuts. “Could go either way,” he gargled through a mouthful. Bobby grunted his agreement. “Hey, where are Alex and Reggie?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t Alex say he’s just going to get some air?” Bobby asked. Luke shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about Alex.

“Reggie should be here by now, too,” Luke said, anxiously.

“They’re gonna make it,” Bobby assured him. Luke took a deep breath, trying to center himself. “Is that all?”

“Huh?” Luke looked at Bobby. He knew what Bobby was asking.

“Is that all you’re upset about?”

Luke stood up, and walked away, facing a small table of trinkets, picking each of them up individually, and examining them closely. “It’s just…” He heaved a sigh, and turned his head, to get a look of Bobby in his peripheral vision. Bobby was watching him closely, but not scrutinizing. Just watching in a way that was careful and kind. “Whenever I imagined this night, my parents were in the front row.”

Bobby didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t know how long it would take him to come up with the right words. Perhaps he would never get there. So, all he could blurt out was, “Maybe they’ll show up. There’s still time!”

“Yeah, thanks,” Luke replied, still playing with the chachkies and sounding very insincere. “I don’t need them.” He turned to face Bobby, his jaw hardening. “I’ve made it this far.” He crossed to the window and threw it open, looking into the rainy world beyond. Bobby turned to follow his movements with a face of patience being lost. Luke pressed his hands against the lower sill and scanned the streets below for Alex or Reggie.

“You miss them.” It wasn’t a question.

“I don’t need them,” Luke repeated.

“You said that already.” Luke turned his head slightly so that Bobby could see his jaw tightening.

“Well, what do you suggest that I do?” he asked rhetorically, turning back to the window and hunching his back slightly. On the streets, there was already a snaking line waiting to get inside. No one seemed to care about the rain, which lifted Luke’s spirits. All of these people were here to see Sunset Curve. They weren’t just some opening act anymore. People cared. Wanted to see them.

“Play the song,” Bobby said, and for a moment Luke had forgotten he was there. He froze, and turned slowly, keeping his hands on the window, and leaning so far from Bobby, he could feel the rain on his forehead.

“The song?” Luke prompted, although he knew what Bobby was trying to say.

Bobby heaved an enormous sigh, and flopped back onto the couch. What a pair of dramatics they were. “You know.” Bobby stood up and raised his eyebrows pointedly. He walked forward so that he and Luke were nose to nose and Luke could lean no further out of the window. “Unsaid Emily?”

“No!” Luke stood up straight, throwing Bobby away from him. “I wrote that song ages ago!”

“Like a week ago?”

“No!” Luke snapped again, already reaching for the doorknob to leave the room, not even knowing where he intended to go.

“Look, what do you have to lose?” Bobby spit the question out at his friend, who stopped, his hand on the doorknob, his head turned slightly to the left, his jaw clenched. “Pride?” Coming out of Bobby’s mouth, the word sounded derogatory and pathetic, but he was right. That’s exactly what Luke had to lose. He flung the door open and stormed away from Bobby, leaving the door, and the conversation wide open. But Bobby had his answer.

Chatter rang through the hall. It bounced off the hallowed walls and reverberated through every room of the theatre, amplified by excitement. The band stood backstage, nerves running high, but not in the same way that they had been before. Now, they felt the kind of nervousness that only came from the moments before seeing your dreams realized. The jabbering hit their ears but stopped there, their brains were too fried with both joy and terror.

The time had come, and none of the four could believe it. Alex had believed that some horrible fate would befall them before the night would arrive. But, the PA system crackled, and a man with a voice clearly intended for radio said, “Live at the Orpheum. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage Sunset Curve!” The lights went down, and the place fell silent.

As soon as they were on stage, all fear and anxiety melted. They could hardly see the audience through the bright spotlights and their own blinding jubilation. What they didn’t see was the handsome young man who slipped in while the bouncers weren’t paying attention. Willie. He crept over to a table and dropped down next to a very confused girl, without taking his eyes off the drummer.

The entire show was one big blur, much like a wedding day. Luke Patterson, married to his work. Before long, all four boys were bouncing energetically up and down and drenched in sweat, playing their greatest personal hits, heard by only their most devoted fans. The show went on late into the night, but no one cared about the time, for they were too engrossed.

When it at last ended and everyone cleared out, no one noticed the teary eyed couple, leaving reluctantly. The woman was short with brown hair that looked constantly frizzy. The man dwarfed his wife, but in a way that made them only look more compatible. They took one last longing look at the band before being forced from the building by the throng. Only two guests chose to stay behind. Willie, despite the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place, and a tall powerful looking woman, who approached the band as they whooped and hollered, living in the high of what they had just achieved.

Silence fell over the four as she drew near, and they all turned, falling into their classic positions as a part of the group. Luke stepped forward, preparing to represent the band. Alex stood close behind him, almost protectively, as if afraid that the woman would attack. Reggie and Bobby stood behind Luke and to his right, like an anxious audience of the whole thing. Luke looked back at his band mates one last time before turning to face the woman and sticking out his hand.

She took it and shook it. “Gentlemen. I’m Olivia Garcia.” The four introduced themselves in a similar order that they had to Rose. “Let me get right to the point. I’m an executive for Pacific Records. What I saw tonight was very impressive. I spoke to my colleagues, and we would be happy to represent Sunset Curve.” She passed an awestruck Luke a thin card. “Give us a call.” She gave the frozen boys a small smile, and left the place, brushing past Willie who had an impressed look, gently coloring his face as he looked at Alex and his bandmates. He approached the boys tentatively, who had turned to face each other. High fives were passed and shared eagerly while all the boys whooped with joy and spoke indistinctly over each other.

Alex caught sight of Willie and slipped away from his ecstatic bandmates unnoticed, who were now jumping in childish circles chanting, ‘we played the Orpheum!’.

“You came,” Alex said, unsure what he meant by that statement. Clearly, Willie had come. Was Alex implying that he was surprised? Was it merely a statement of joy? Was Willie overthinking the whole thing as much as he was?

“Told you I’d find a way.” He grinned.

“A legal way?” Alex teased. Willie blushed and shrugged, rolling his head toward the ground. It had now become apparent to the other three band members that their drummer was no longer an active part of their celebrations. They turned and registered Willie, every possible scenario of who the boy could possibly be running through their heads as they studied his face, particularly the way he looked at Alex, and vice versa. Bobby, who seemed most determined in respecting Alex’s privacy, nudged Reggie, who took Luke by the arm and steered him in the other direction. They then pretended like they weren’t listening as intently as they were, staring at the ceiling and the floor and the stage.

Willie dropped his joking act to make serious eye contact with Alex, a truly terrifying concept. “You guys were really good.”

“Oh, thanks,” Alex said, sticking his elbows out and turning his head shyly.

“So, that woman was someone important, huh?” Willie continued.

“Yeah, she said she wants to represent us!” He beamed, glee lighting up his face in an instant. “It’s totally insane, and completely terrifying and I’m so excited!” He went on rambling, and Willie watched, smiling, as Rose approached the other three onlookers.

“Even better than your soundcheck,” she said, giving them an excuse to focus on something other than Alex. Reggie tilted his head and smirked, Luke grinned and thanked her. Bobby did nothing. “Listen, I’m having a party later tonight. Like, now, actually. It’d be great if you guys would come. Beer, fans. Great music, of course.” She waited patiently for their response, and though they dragged it out, her spiel was pretty hard to ignore. “You can even ring you friend.” Rose jerked her thumb back to Alex and Willie, still talking happily.

“Alright, I guess we’ll come,” Luke agreed, looking at his bandmates with a crooked grin.

“Great!” Rose gave Bobby the address, and bid them a safe walk.

Luke stepped tentatively toward Alex and Willie, peeking over Alex’s shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry to interrupt, but Alex, we’re headed out. Rose is throwing a party. Your, uh-” Luke searched for the proper word hesitating slightly over the word friend. “-buddy is welcome as well.” He inwardly pinched himself at the foolish choice of words.

Alex turned to Willie, the question in his eyes.

“No, I couldn’t,” he admitted apologetically. “My folks will be wondering where I am. I catch you later, though?”

“Yeah, of course,” Alex agreed. Willie shot him one last sideways smile, and rushed from the theater.

“Who was that?” Luke asked as soon as he was gone, and Bobby and Reggie hurriedly stepped forward to hear about the mystery man.

“A guy I ran into,” Alex answered, grinning to himself at his own little pun. “Willie.” He grinned at the way the name felt on his lips. The boys nodded assent.

“Shall we?” Reggie asked, making a large gesture with his arms in the general direction of nowhere.

“Won’t Carla miss you?” Bobby wondered.

Reggie shook his head.”She’ll understand.”

“Then, let’s go boys.” And Luke led the way to the party.

Notes: If you’re with me thanks again! Chapter three will be back hopefully sooner rather than later. If anyone is interested, I can make a tag list, so just let me know.

13 notes · View notes

kens-puku · 3 years

Note

Ok, I don't know if you like to relate songs to characters, but: Porcelain Face to Ken(tin) and Candy. I think I don't need to elaborate

youtube

Heyo Tanuki!~ Big hugs to you ♥ I listened to the song, the vocals are really nice and I reaally loved that instrument solo, what instrument was it? Not gonna lie, I didn't really get it the first few times I listened and read the lyrics, but after seeing some of the meme animatics, I think I get that it's about being bullied and falling in love. The pictures that came to mind originally was like so literal. XD Like actually doodling on cardboard, which I would totally do if presented with some. :"3

It kinda makes me want to make pictures to show that the lyrics could, in some ways, be interpreted as happy. X3

I was like... hmm, Porcelain name... what could that mean?... Candy can be broken with teeth! * w* kashhh *teeth crunch sound*

Thank you for the ask! Much love to you, friend!

☆ Porcelain Face - 4 Door Theatre ☆ (Lyrics Below)

They call me the kid with the cardboard face Pencil a smile or frown then erase Make me a monster with paper mache I'm the kid with the cardboard face

I drew on a hat with some black sunglasses A girl took my shades and she sharpied eyelashes A boy stole my snapback and burned my hair straight I'm the kid with the cardboard face

But I met a girl with a porcelain name Easy to talk to but hard to explain What do I do when I'm falling for you? The girl with a porcelain name Meets a boy with a cardboard face

She went to an artist to make her look new To cover her scars like a shotgun tattoo The colors they stayed but then faded away The girl with the porcelain name

But I met a girl with a porcelain name Easy to talk to but hard to explain What do I do when I'm falling for you? The girl with a porcelain name Meets a boy with a cardboard face

Ah ooooo whoaaa Ooooooo Ah ooooo whoaaa Ooooooo

I met a girl with a porcelain name Easy to talk to but hard to explain What do I do when I'm falling for you? The girl with a porcelain name Meets a boy with a cardboard face

But I met a girl with a porcelain name She's easy to talk to she's hard to explain What do I do c'mon tell me it's true The girl with a porcelain name Loves a boy with a cardboard face

#ask puku #my candy love #mcl #mcl kentin #kentin

3 notes · View notes

wastelandcrown · 4 years

Text

logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents

CHAPTER 3: i am actively trying to throw away my shot but it isn’t fucking working

Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?

Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Roman is a theatre brat to the highest degree (Sorry Roman stans), Remus being Remus, Anxiety/Panic Attacks, Talks of anxiety/medication, Throwing up (Not detailed)

Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight. If you wanna be tagged in chapters, please dm me!! This chapter has a lot of anxiety and anxiety talk, so if you’re sensitive to that please be mindful!! Also lots of Logan and Virgil being friends, which I enjoyed writing! I also apologize for the delay, I ended up hating chapters 4-6 after I wrote them and have just rewritten them! Much more to come dw!

Pairings: Eventual Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, Eventual One-Sided Logicality, Platonic Analogical, Platonic DRLAMP

Word Count: 2994

Tagslist: @under-the-blue-moonlight @why-should-i-tell-youu2

By almost all accounts, the next week got easier each day that passed. As Logan got acclimated to the chaos and worked on his notebook, things got much better. Part of this could be attributed to his time spent in the tech booth with Virgil.

Their goal for the week was to pick their audition song and perfect it so that by Friday they could perform and Thomas could quickly and efficiently cast the show. Their performance was in November, which was absolutely way too soon for Logan but Janus had assured him that it was more than enough time to put on an adequate performance. He took Virgil’s lifeline offer surprisingly often. Sitting in the booth and quietly practicing his audition worked out some of the stress in him. Sometimes Virgil would look up from his switch and make a comment on his performance or suggest something is changed, but aside from that, they were quietly comfortable with each other’s presence amongst all of the chaos that was the rest of the theatre.

When he left the booth, he was nearly swarmed by the others. It became routine. In the morning, he would spend time with Virgil, Patton, and their friend Emile. Oftentimes conversation was light, and the commentary was helpful and constructive. At lunch, he and Virgil would move to the tech booth and eat there together to get some peace and quiet in before inevitably being bombarded in the afternoon. After lunch, someone (usually Remus) would make their way up to the tech booth and drag them out to the boy’s dressing room. Virgil would sit in the corner and occasionally mess with one of the twins, or hiss at Janus in greeting, and Logan would be worked to the bone. He had decided to audition with Hamilton’s rap from My Shot; Doing the first and second halves, but cutting out the middle. Janus was extremely dedicated to being sure Logan’s performance would make an impression. Logan wanted the opposite, but he couldn’t argue with Janus’ dedication to making the entire show perfect.

Though, Roman’s attitude didn’t really change that much. For four days, he stayed at a zero. By Friday morning, he actually enjoyed his routine in part. Aside from Roman. Actually, Logan thinks if Roman was completely removed from the situation he may actually be happy with his current predicament. All this has just been practice though. When Friday afternoon rolls around and his audition is getting closer and closer, he tries to focus on the other performers. When it’s Roman’s turn, he pays special attention. Now he sees why Roman has an ego about these things. His audition was very good, and he felt natural on the stage. He would make a wonderful Hamilton, and he really looked the part. Despite him and Remus being technically identical, he looked worlds different. His clothes were ironed perfectly, and he had obviously dressed a bit historically today. His wavy hair was combed to let his face shine through in the stage light, and he was...dear lord, was he wearing eyeliner? Logan shook it from his mind and listened to him sing. Just like the days he’d seen him practice, he was very good. Obviously star material. If he didn’t get Hamilton, Logan would eat a page from his notebook. Figuratively, of course. That would be bad for his digestive system.

On either side of him are Patton and Virgil. He’s not really focusing on auditions until Roman’s, and after he phases back into his overthinking. He’s not nervous, he would never be nervous. Logically, there is no reason for him to be nervous. He’s just being vigilant. That’s it.

Virgil nudges him, “I can practically hear your thinking. You okay?”

“Oh-Uhm-Yes,” Logan says quietly, staring up at the performer on stage, “I’ll be fine.”

Virgil digs into his pocket and pulls out a little cube, he hands it to Logan with a kind expression, “See if that helps your anxiety.”

“I’m not anxious, there’s no reason for me to be anxious.” Logan scoffs, taking the little cube and running his thumb over the side with a small silver ball. The movement does make him feel a little better.

Virgil smirks, and flicks his shoulder, “You’re smarter than that, Logan. C’mon.”

He’s right, and Logan knows it. Anxious feelings can be totally irrational and are oftentimes a result of doing something new or stressful.

If he bombed this, it could be very stressful indeed. Janus would certainly not be happy after he put all that work into helping him. Roman would probably laugh, or make some comment about how he knew this would happen. Why did he even care anyway? He didn’t. He was simply falling victim to a very stupid bout of anxiety. When his name is called, he hands Virgil back his cube and makes his way up to the stage. He takes a deep breath, says he is auditioning for no one in particular, and then is cued in. He performs how he was coached, completely ignoring his anxiety and doing the best he possibly could. When he’s finished, Thomas looks very pleased as the crowd claps. Someone even wolf whistles and Logan is fairly certain it’s Remus. He sits quietly for the rest of the auditions, Virgil passes him back the cube.

The cast list won’t be out until Monday, so all the kids have the weekend to spend enjoying their summer. Well, if they don’t enjoy theatre. Logan managed to be very productive on his days off. His chart was filled and he indulged in sleeping in on Saturday. For two days he was not checkmated by social interaction at all, and it was a paradise. He managed to burn through four books from the local library, and was working his way through the fifth when his phone went off. He picked it up, not expecting a text from Virgil.

‘hey. logan i just saw the cast list and...god i really hope you dont get straight-up murdered.’

This had confused him heavily, and then he realized what Virgil might mean and he felt anxiety bubble up into his stomach.

‘How did you see the cast list? Isn’t that classified until tomorrow?’

‘joan and i are tight, they let me see it.’

That makes sense, Virgil seemed close to Joan and Thomas. Closer than he was, at least.

‘Are you willing to tell me who I am playing?’

‘you have to act shocked tomorrow if i do.’

He started to panic, and he looked up at the sky as if pleading with God to make this a dream or a prank.

‘Okay? Please tell me I didn’t get Hamilton.’

‘...sorry…’

His phone goes off a number of times after this, but he had to put it down. The lead? He was playing Hamilton? Alexander Hamilton, the leading man of the hit Broadway musical Hamilton?

The bubble of anxiety in his chest welled up and made him so nauseous that he couldn’t speak for fear of throwing up.

He didn’t expect this, he didn’t even want this. He had been so anxious at the audition, and now he was the lead? What was he going to do? He couldn’t perform half as well as Roman! Why did Thomas choose him in the first place!? The idea of standing on that stage performing with an ensemble made him queasy, but Alexander Hamilton had solos. Songs where he stood alone and faced a crowd of eyes just pouring into him, staring at him. Staring into his soul and seeing that he was just a fake. A hack. The lights would be so bright that he would be able to see into the audience and make out faces. Then, after the audience decided they hated him, he would disappoint Thomas who had picked him to be the lead despite first hearing the songs on Monday. He would be hated by the other performers, a wildly untalented newcomer coming in and taking Roman’s spot as lead-And oh god, how would Roman feel? Virgil was right, Roman was going to kill him. It would be righteous too, Roman deserved it. He’d stolen away the lead role in a show he was passionate about. Why couldn’t the production have been something like Shakespeare? Or, even better, there should have been no production at all!

He manages to stumble his way to his bathroom before he throws up, and he hopes his mother didn’t hear him. His hands are still shaky as he cleans himself up and tries not to think about the play. He still feels nauseous and panicked. He spends thirty minutes calming himself down. His heart rate and breathing had risen substantially, and when he had finally calmed he realized he had even been crying. Managing to pick up his phone again, he looked at Virgil’s messages.

‘logan?’

Then a minute later, ‘logan are you okay?’

A few minutes later, ‘shit are you panicking?’

And a minute ago ‘text me back asap’

It’s nice to know it was concerning behaviour to Virgil as well. As he thought about his strange spiral of thoughts and forced himself not to think about them all at once, he realized what had just happened. What would continue to happen.

‘I am okay. I believe I just had a panic attack. I haven’t had one in years.’

‘youve had one before?’ Ah, right. He hadn’t discussed this with Virgil. He hadn’t discussed a lot of his past with Virgil.

‘When I was in middle school I had joined debate team, but I realized that public speaking gave me terrible anxiety. I used to take medication to help, as the panic attacks happened semi-regularly. Eventually, I stopped doing debate, and I stopped taking the medication as I thought that would be the end of it. I suppose that was reckless thinking, as it may just be a form of performance anxiety overall.’

‘why then, pray tell, are you fucking doing theatre?’ Logan smiles a little at that, he wondered too.

‘I thought it would go away.’ Logan can almost see Virgil rolling his eyes at the comment, ‘I will speak to my mother and get more medication.’

Then he thinks of Virgil's behaviour and asks, ‘Also, and I apologize if I am overstepping, do you not have an anxiety disorder?’

‘yeah ive got regular anxiety and social anxiety. its a bunch of bullshit. why do you think im on tech?’ He feels a little bad for Virgil now, anxiety disorders are not very pleasant. He only has bouts of anxiety situationally, he can’t imagine it being near-constant.

‘I assumed it was because you enjoyed it. I will go and speak with my mother immediately.’

‘was being sarcastic L. anyway, tell me how it goes.’ Logan stops when he reads this. Tell him how it goes? That is an invitation to message him regularly, right? It sounds like it, or at least to tell him about a problem that has been irking him. That...that is a thing meant for friends right?

‘Are you sure? I was under the impression that our speaking was reserved for the theatre.’

‘i mean, it can be. but we can be out-of-theatre friends too. if you want. no pressure.’

This...this was a very welcome surprise. He supposed that despite his rebound into performance anxiety, making one of his first friends in a very long time could prove enjoyable. Scheduling conflicts aside.

‘I would enjoy that. I will update you.’

When he asks his mother about going back on his anxiety medication, she immediately jumps into a very motherly mode. She pulls him into a hug, and pets his hair, asking if anything is wrong, if he’s okay, the whole nine yards. As much as any teenager would hate to admit it, he loved his mother very dearly. This affection was...a lot, yes, but he could endure it for her. She was only showing her care. It was late afternoon, so the doctor was still open. Out of some insane luck, they managed to get an appointment that afternoon and he had his medication by later that night.

‘Virgil, I am happy to inform you that I am now in possession of medication for my anxiety again!’

‘that was super quick, congrats, im happy for you L.’

They talked for much longer, and Logan felt pleased by his gain in mood. Surprisingly, he was even able to talk about the books he had read with Virgil. If Sunday was on his chart, Logan is certain Virgil would get a twelve for today. Even if that broke his scale.

He made it a point to ask his father to stop and get coffee the next morning. Partially for him, yes. The medication was new to his system again and had made him slightly groggy when it started taking effect. Though it was partially to get a “thank you” gift for Virgil. He had asked what kind of coffee he liked the previous night when they had talked, and ordered his favourite. He offered to pay for his and Virgil’s coffee, but his father simply shrugged.

“You’ve had a hard week, I’ll buy it for you.”

He smiled softly, appreciating his father’s kind gesture more than he would ever say out loud. When they arrived he even gave him a hug, which was hard with two coffee cups but he made it work.

Before entering the auditorium he took a deep breath, and reminded himself that everything was going to work out. Which may be a lie, but he would have to enter to find out wouldn’t he? With a push, he made his way in. He regretted it almost instantly. He could hear Roman yelling backstage, probably having seen the cast list. To be fair, Logan didn’t know who Roman was cast as, but he hopes it wasn’t all too bad. Quickly, he manages to avoid any kids who are in the auditorium seats and slinks his way up into the tech booth.

“Good morning, Virgil.” He says, setting down Virgil’s coffee in front of him.

Virgil looks surprised, “Morning, is this for me?”

“Who else would it be for?” Logan asks, making Virgil smirk.

“Thanks, you should hurry down and look at the cast list though. Roman might rip it to pieces.”

Logan nods and hurries out, but makes the decision to leave his drink with Virgil in case of any...emergency.

Ducking into the backstage area, he finds Patton trying to calm down Roman, who is very very angry. Remus is laughing again, but Logan doesn’t know what is so funny about his imminent demise. Janus is the first to notice his presence and gives him a sympathetic nod.

“Patton, he hadn’t even heard of Hamilton until a week ago! What kind of lead even is that!?”

“Look, I don’t understand it either, but when Thomas gets here you can talk to him! I’m sure Logan is going to be shocked when he gets…” Patton had noticed him and was now staring, “here…”

Roman notices and turns on him and shoves the cast list into his face, “Look at this, Logan! You! You are playing Hamilton! Are you happy!?”

Logan sighs deeply, taking the list and looking it over, “Not in the slightest if that makes you feel any better.”

“That actually somehow makes me feel worse!” Roman shouts then sits down in one of the backstage chairs to pout.

Janus holds back his laughter, “Wow Logan, this is totally not hilarious at all, Roman should totally be pouting like a little kid and throwing a fit.”

“Guys! Seriously! It’s not a bad thing! Logan’s audition was amazing!” Patton says as cheerfully as usual and walks closer to Logan to point at the cast list, “Look, I’m playing Eliza! That’s super awesome! We’ll be doing a lot of scenes together so I hope we can become better friends!”

Logan just nods, going back to reading. Him as Hamilton, with Roman as his understudy. Along with being his understudy, Roman was going to play George Washington. Logan liked George Washington’s part, and though he didn’t understand his being Hamilton, he’s glad Roman got a large role. Janus would be playing Aaron Burr, which made a lot of sense. Janus would be wonderful as Burr. Patton, as he already said, would be playing Eliza. This was...a bit of a problem, the more Logan thought about it. Patton would be playing his love interest. He...he would think about that when it mattered more. Remus would be playing King George, which Logan was glad about. Remus seemed to really want to play the villain. Though Remus’ name was next to another character’s name as well. Maria Reynolds. Remus Grimm playing King George and Maria Reynolds. He would be in a scene where Remus would have to actively seduce him.

Just as he started to wrap his head around this, Remus slung an arm over his shoulder.

“Ain’t it just great that I get to be a monarch and a whore!? I, personally, couldn’t be happier. Make money, get dick, I always say!” Remus says excitedly.

Logan chokes on his own spit, and has to cough a bit before he can reply, “I can see how the seduction angle appeals to you.”

“It won’t appeal to me if you get sick and Roman ends up Hamilton!”

Logan visibly cringes and Remus chuckles, “So you better not drop out or something, dork! I can do a lot of gross shit but acting out the seduction of my twin brother is way too gross.”

Thinking for a second, Logan turns to look at Remus, who is smiling at him. His teeth are so sharp. His eye shadow is bright violet and a mess. He really does look like he had recently been at a rave.

“I’ll be sure not to disappoint you, Remus.”

56 notes · View notes

lyricalimerence · 4 years

Text

10 Things I Hate About You • 002

masterlist • 001, 002, 003... coming soon

Chapter Two — Heinous Bitches & Cliché Bets

summary: intro to kacey & the bet is made between kelce + topper

word count: 2196

warnings: mentions of smut like two or three lines total, swear words, and high school stupidity. oh, how i miss the dickstains i go to school with 😌.

a/n: i actually love writing kacey's character. n e who, this is for @popcsheyward because i'm making jj simp for u

Deep in the heart of the high school, a class of bored and inattentive seniors doodle in their notebooks and up the exposed skin on their arms; others text, their phones “hidden” beneaths their desks. Kacey Brooks was in the middle of it all. Everyone knew her, whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. It was the advent of spring, encroaching on summer, and on an island, that means it is hot. But, there Kacey sat, in baggy denim jeans, cuffed above her ankle so the hems didn’t drag along the floor. Her hands were tucked underneath her denim-clad thighs as she leaned over the desk, tracing the looping font that said “Romeo and Juliet” on the cover of the book on her desk with her eyes. God, she hated that book. They read it in Sophomore year, and she didn’t understand why they had to read the stupid play again.

The English teacher, Mr. Martin stood from his swivel chair, picking up his own copy of Romeo and Juliet just to drop it down on the podium, catching the drifting seniors’ attention. “Okay, slackers. What did you think of the play?”

A girl in the back of the classroom, another clean cut Kook with pink lip gloss and tight crop tops raised her hand. With a smile, she rushed into her opinion, not bothering to get permission to speak. It was a well known fact that in the Outer Banks it was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. “It was so romantic. I loved it.”

Kacey’s brows stitched together, not mulling over her personal rebuttal for more than a moment before looking over her shoulder at the girl. Her eyes were glossy, lost in her romanization of the play. Ever since the second semester of her freshman year when she just snapped, she had been braving each day, treating it as a singular battle in the war against high school ignorance. “Romeo and Juliet was not romantic. It was two people having a teenage rebellion and wallowing in their own angst. They simply wanted an escape from their family lives. And Shakespeare? He was a racist, anti-semetic misogynist who is praised when he couldn’t decide on one way to spell his own name.”

The entirety of the class rolled their eyes, including Mr. Martin. It hadn’t been the first time Kacey had spoken out on her take on the social issues that came with the authors of novels and how they correlate to modern day society. Kelce, a Kook Prince of the highest degree and sitting to the left of Kacey, pokes at the metaphorical bear. “As opposed to a friendless, holier-than-thou wench?”

The girls pining after Kelce for his looks or trust fund giggled, despite his dig into the girl next him not being all that funny. Mr. Martin slapped the wooden podium with his Folger Shakespeare Library copy of Romeo and Juliet. “Pipe down, Slick.”

Kacey pulled the hem of her army green crop top to cover the slight bit of tanned skin exposed before quipping, “I guess having a dick and being a dick makes you entitled to our time.” The brunette pushed the hair falling over her forehead out of the way before waving her copy of the play in the air. “What about Sylva Plath or, I don’t know, Emily Bronte for all I care.”

Before Mr. Martin could respond with his own activistic rebuttal, Rafe Cameron walks into class, holding up a copy of the first Harry Potter book and raising his eyebrows, silently questioning whether that was the right book. He knew it wasn’t. “What’d I miss?”

A Pogue who was a known theatre nerd started humming the tune to the song from Hamilton titled What’d I Miss while Kacey all but spun in her seat. “Just the patriarchal values that run this lovely institution and corrupt the minds of dimwitted Kelce’s everywhere.”

Rafe nodded along to Kacey’s statement and through to her next breath, not having stopped in between words to breathe. “Good.” After his simple response, he immediately turned on his heel and walked back down the hall, rather enduring more uncomfortable conversations with the Dean than English class.

Kacey and Rafe had no ill will towards each other, only being able to base an opinion off the presumed stereotypes of each other that get passed around the school. Kacey and Rafe had known each other for a long time. When they were six, Kacey’s father was Rose Cameron’s obstetrician, seeing as he’s the best on the Outer Banks and the Camerons are the richest on the Outer Banks. That’s where they met: outside his stepmother’s hospital room, playing chopsticks with their fingers while they sat cross-legged on the tile floor, drinking apple juice from juice boxes. That’s where their friendship ended. They hadn’t really spoken since, only having that snapshot into reality before the doors were closed. Kacey was popular, had many more friends than Rafe did, and boys trailed her. When freshman year rolled around, he kept his distance because he knew he would walk away with a sharp pain in his groin. That was just how she carried herself, and he carried himself differently.

Mr. Martin attempted to call after Rafe, only to hear the cicadas buzzing outside.

“Mr. Martin, do you think we could get Kacey to take her Midol before class?” Kelce asks, his signature smirk gracing his face as he continued his quest to make Kacey’s life a living Hell. Snickers erupted from the class, causing Kelce’s smugness to go to his head, lifting himself onto his selfmade pedestal.

“One day, you’re gonna get bitch-slapped right across that brazen face of yours, and I’m not gonna do anything to stop it. Kacey, thank you for your input.” As Mr. Martin took a brief pause, Kacey smiled to herself, please that her social activism finally was justified by authority. He continued, “I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you to overcome upper-class, Kook oppression. It must’ve been awful.” Her chest puffed out with pride deflated at his words. She knew he was right. “But the next time you storm the school board campaigning for more recycling bins or whatever you white girls complain about, ask them why they can’t buy a book written by a Black man!”

“Understood. Anything else?” Kacey asked, looking straight past Mr. Martin and out the window overlooking the quad behind him.

“Yeah, go to the office, you’re pissing me off.” Her neck whipped to look at her English teacher at his words, opening her mouth to argue, but he shot her a stern look and pointed towards the door. In Kacey’s rageful frenzy, she decked Kelce in the face with her bag as she stormed out of the classroom towards the office.

The Dean sat in her office, her rouge painted nails clicking against the keys on her keyboard as the sleazy thoughts in her head transferred onto the Word document housing her novel. She whispered to herself as her fingertips ghosted the letter labeled keys on her laptop. She snapped her head up, calling out to the secretary, asking for her to look up another word for ‘engorged’ despite being able to pull up the thesaurus on her computer.

“Tumescent?” Kacey suggested as she walked into the small, pink office.

The Dean snapped her fingers, pointing at Kacey as she morphed her hand into a finger gun. “Perfect!” Kacey swung her bag off her shoulder and onto the ground next to the chair in which she seated herself. “I hear you’re terrorizing English class again.”

“Last time I checked, it wasn’t just English class, and expressing my opinions is not a terrorist action.” The eighteen-year-old raised her eyebrows indignantly, her head nodding slightly in authoritativeness.

The Dean smiled sarcastically at Kacey, “The way you expressed your opinion to Topper Thornton? His testical retrieval operation went quite well, if you’re interested.”

“I maintain he swung his own golf club up his legs like a field goal.” Kacey crossed her arms over her chest. She settled into her chair. Her conversations with the crude woman in front of her always went the same way; Mr. Martin threw her out of class for existing, and her previous deeds suddenly have updates that the Dean thinks Kacey should know about.

“The point I’m trying to make is that people think you’re a heinous bitch and you should work on it.” Her eyes flickered to her still open laptop and back up to the eighteen-year-old. “What do you think about blood sex?”

“Okay, yeah, this has been lovely, however,” grabbing her backpack, she swung it over her shoulder as she rose from the uncomfortable chair. “I think I’ll let you get back to Chris chokeslamming Jackie into a wall.”

As Kacey left the office to walk the halls of Kildare County High School, the Dean seemed to take her words into serious consideration, whispering Kacey’s final sentiment under her breath as she typed the word ‘chokeslam.’

. . .

Kelce leant against the stone wall that surrounded the courtyard and only rose to about waist-high of even the shortest of students. His best friend and fellow poster child for the effects of affluenza, Topper Thornton ( who is very acquainted with Kacey Brooks and her golf club swing ), stood next to him, the two of them surveying the inhabitants of the grassy lawn in the back of the school. Topper noticed Gracie walking through the gap in the stone wall, her Spanish textbook pressed to her chest as she nodded along to what Arianna said next to her. The familiar breeze carrying the scent of the ocean and the feeling of home blew the short strands of Gracie’s hair that framed her face in almost an angelic way, and her sundress that fell to her mid-thigh swayed as she walked. Gracie and Arianna were picturesque, almost like they actively strived to be compared to Cher and Dionne from Clueless.

With a carnal smirk, Topper elbowed Kelce, muttering “Virgin alert” as the sophomore passed the two guys, smiling and waving at Kelce as they went.

“Lookin’ good, ladies.” As if Kelce’s remark was a que, Gracie and Arianna pushed forward, leaving the hormonal teenager guys watching them like they were prey for them to catch.

“No way, Bro. They’re outta your league.”

“No one’s out of my league.” Kelce’s eyes didn’t leave Gracie as she distanced herself from them.

Topper pulled fifty dollars out of his pocket, “Wanna bet?”

“Nah, I’ve got money. This’ll be for fun.” Kelce pushed Topper’s hand that was holding onto the bill away and dapped up his empty hand, sealing the deal. Kelce was about to embark on one of the most cliché, tropical bets of his high school experience.

“Just look at her, man.” JJ watched Gracie and Arianna pass him, John B, and Pope. He followed her with love struck eyes and wistful pining.

Pope tilted his head, the cap that sat on his head almost falling off his head as he tried to understand his friend’s mindset. “She’s just so…”

“Perfect?” JJ offered.

John B and Pope shared a glance, rolling their eyes at JJ’s suggestion. “I was going to say ditzy.” John B replied.

“How can you say that?” JJ turned to glance at his friends who were totally unimpressed by the girl that captured almost all the guy’s hearts at the high school. “She’s totally…”

“Narcissistic?” Pope said, getting a nod from John B in agreement.

“That’s her sister, c’mon, guys.” JJ waved his hand in the air for emphasis. There was no way Gracie was like Kacey. They were too polar. “There’s more to her than you think. See her smile? She’s totally pure.”

“Yeah, pure money. She’s a Kook, dude.” John B ran a hand through his overgrown brunet locks. “What’s there is a snotty princess wearing a dress that was purposefully planned to make Pogues like you realize you can’t have her and Kooks like Kelce and Topper want her.”

“Besides, JJ, you know the rule. It’s not like she could date you even if she wanted to.” Pope added on, readjusting his baseball cap to fit snugly on his head.

“Put her in the Spank Bank and move on, Bro.” John B and Pope started walking in the opposite direction, lunch was about to start.

JJ jogged to catch up, shaking his head in denial. “Nah.”

“Move on, man. Jizz Wizz and then dip.” Pope reiterated John B’s sentiment as JJ held his arm out, stopping them in their tracks in front of the bulletin board to the right of the door into school.

“She needs a Spanish tutor,” He ripped the paper advertisement off the cork board.

“You can’t even speak Spanish.”

“What do you mean?” JJ looked at John B as he traced Gracie’s phone number printed on the paper.

“Broken Spanish and fantasizing about lobsters from Yucatan doesn’t mean you know Spanish.” Pope pulled the paper out of JJ’s hand, ready to tack it back to the board before JJ took it again.

“Okay, so I don’t know Spanish, but I will.”

tags — @perkily @mortifiedposts @poguequeen @abigailpankow @curlybrownhairedboys @steverogers123 @outerbankslut @jayjaymaebank @jjssarah @whOreforharry @wowitswondergurl @anonymous0writer @kodi8314 @outrbank @aestheticcraze @kylosleftbuttcheek @x-lulu @dailygrace06 @calswildflower95 @insanitysparkles @prejudic3 @ilovejjmaybank @apoguecalledjj @xxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooo @calumbroutledge @rudys-pankow @bxllasanosa @write-from-the-heart @thelocalpogue @fandomsinapile @starkeymarkey @lovingxjj @beatement-l @drew-starkey @beckester @butgilinsky @kayak-huesgen @everydayimfangirling @delinquentstarkey @g4bster @crumpetsandmarmite

if your user is in italics, tumblr won't let me tag you. shoot me an ask or a pm if i spelled it wrong or if tumblr is just ✨bitchin✨

if you want to be added to the taglist for just this series click here

#obx #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron #drew starkey #rudy pankow #jj #jj maybank #obx fanfiction #obx jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #obx rafe #kelce outer banks #10 things i hate about you #fanfiction

64 notes · View notes

ceasarslegion · 4 years

Text

Musical theatre and marching band should be accepted as respectable sports

No, no, I'm serious. This isn't the theatre kid or center snare drum at high school pep rallies in me talking. They should be taken seriously as athletics and treated with as much respect. They're glossed over and underfunded and treated like throwaways because nobody within their circles seems to grasp how hard they are, or how much trained skill they take, or how much dedication they need, because they don't look like the brute strength of other athletics.

I was never very good at brute strength. I always fell on my face in gym class and struggled to even get a hold of the rope we had to climb. But different people are built for different things, it's a mammalian survival thing, and what I was good at were endurance and agility. I can run, you guys. I can jump, and I just don't fucking stop. I have excellent coordination and spatial awareness, I was always the last man standing in dodgeball because it was based on speed and coordination and endurance. Maybe I can't deadlift 50 pounds without using my legs, but you could strap 50 pounds of equipment to my torso and tell me to perform for 2 straight hours in a 5-layer peacock suit in the 40 celcius heat, all the while keeping perfect time, recalling extremely complicated drum scores in my head, and improvising in time when the basketball team decided to interact with us, and I could. That's what marching band is, you guys. That sounds hard, yeah? Because it is. And it's absolutely draining. Your whole body hurts after a performance, those harnesses like to dig into pressure points because they tend to be metal and heavier than your actual instrument in the case of us drumline guys, the actual performance feels like 4 workouts in a heat-trapping uniform that is not conducive to the amount of sweat you WILL collect, and the shit you do to prep beforehand is nuts. There's no room for being out of shape in something like that. If you've ever been in marching band, you've probably had a moment where you all slipped off your dumb-looking hats in the school bus after a performance and laughed at each other because everyone looks like they just showered and forgot to bring a towel. Bonus points if your coach made a comment about how you all smelled like shit. Ours used to bring a bottle of axe just to blast into the radius around him while we all tried to hug him.

And musical theatre isn't much better, either. I ran with this group for 2 years after high school, which was basically a cast of wonderful people who are dedicated to bringing broadway to the middle east, because we didn't get much of that out there. Every year we did 4 shows: 2 proper off-broadway spectacle acts, and 2 low-budget revue shows to raise money for the future expenses of those belty emotional boys. During my tenure with them, we knocked out 9 to 5, Sister Act, Newsies, and Anything Goes. Now, I don't know if y'all have ever seen these shows, but, uh... good fucking god. I need to point out that this was not mine nor anyone else's primary job, because we were a nonprofit. We didn't get paid. We showed up every other weekday from 7 to 10, and then an 8-hour session every saturday. Because we had to knock out shows that had the choreography of gods in 3 months. We spent 2 weeks memorizing the vocals. That's it. 2 weeks. Then we had to move on to choreography, which was so physically demanding that if I didn't have a desk job at the time where I only left to go to press conferences, I would die. I'd stumble into work on burning calves and aching feet every morning after rehearsals. Sometimes I'd just lose my voice for the entire day because I blew it out on a belt in Seize the Day the night before. Don't even get me started on how bad I was when we did Sister Act, because I had a major role. I was Curtis, because it was funny to cast the babyfaced ginger who's 90 pounds soaking wet as a feared crime lord. Because I had to stay for extra time, considering I'm a very firm belty tenor and I implore you to listen to how much he growls in When I Find My Baby. A bitch couldn't speak outside of rehearsal. And y'know how in other sports they tell you to mind your breathing? We don't get that. Your breathing minds the song you're singing, and you better keep dancing or the whole number's fucked, so take a deep breath before you run on. Don't fuck up the belt, now. If you watch the tap numbers in Anything Goes or even just the general everything about Newsies, I want you to imagine learning those entire shows in 3 months on top of a full-time job and then going through tech week and the 2 weeks we booked for production. What about that shit isn't a goddamn olympic-callibre sport??

Marching band and musical theatre are in no way things that just anyone can do. They are physically and mentally demanding. Maybe from an audience perspective they just look like coordinated dances and fun songs, but I guarantee that in every show you see, everyone's running on exhaust fumes. Stage makeup cakes for a reason, you guys. You can't see the exhaustion and sleep deprivation and total lack of complexion from eating like absolute shit for a week behind a thick layer of foundation, and just when we're all about to collapse, the lights go up and it's time for that big act 1-ending tap number. Oh, you sprained your ankle in the last one? Too bad, smile through it and give the people what they paid for. And the applause at the end while you gasp for breath is as addicting as heroin, so you'll keep coming back.

And then people have the gall to say they're not real sports. Is it because they aren't enough of a masculine wet dream for you? Makes you think.

#this has been a RantTM #shut up dames

63 notes · View notes

thesmalltowngal · 4 years

Text

Snowbaz 28- If I Had $1,000,000

OTP Prompt #28: Penny spells the boys to sing what they really mean.

~ So this takes place during eighth year, but Shepherd is there for some reason because why not. This is based on the song If I Had $1,000,000 by the Barenaked Ladies, and while listening to it while you read isn’t required, it might help. This is a total crack fic, and it is very self-indulgent, but I had soooo much fun writing it. Enjoy! ~

*Penny’s POV*

Simon and Baz are bloody bickering again. Lately, it hasn’t been anything too hostile, just a few small arguments here and there while we’ve been figuring out how to kill the Humdrum. But if I didn’t know that they ‘hated’ each other, I’d call it a bit of a domestic. Simon has come to breakfast every day this week complaining about Basil and how posh and perfect he is. I swear, sometimes he can be the daftest person I know. All I know at this point is that I need to knock some sense into the both of them before I fall in love with Baz. And at the rate Simon complains about how perfect he is, it might be bloody soon.

As Simon, Shep and I are walking to the abandoned theatre off campus, he’s (once again) ‘complaining’ about Baz. “His hair was clogging the drain again, Penny!” (See? Domestic.) “And the prat had the audacity to just smirk about it! Can you believe that?”

“Well, I-” He tugs at his messy curls as he interrupts me.

“It’s like, we bloody get it, you have great long hair and you always shower with your posh cedar and bergamot soap!” I just sigh and try tuning him out as we make our way across the pitch. Seriously, how does Simon manage to complain about Baz’s beautiful hair and great smell and still think they’re just enemies? Shep and I give each other a look and roll our eyes- their feelings for each other are really only not obvious to the two of them.

“Remind me again why I agreed to this truce, Pen?” Because you love him, dolt.

“Because we need each other’s help, Si.” And then he’s off again jabbering, even as we enter the theatre and see Baz sitting on the stage. Simon only shuts up when we get close to him.

“Bunce. Snow,” Baz starts, eyes lingering on Simon. (The pair of them, I swear.) “Where do we begin today?” His eyebrow is arched in the way that riles Simon up (and not in the way he thinks), and he moves his gaze to me. He looks tired- I don’t think he’s getting much sleep.

“Well I was actually thinking we’d start with a sort of bonding exercise…” They both roll their eyes but go to stand on stage next to each other while Shep and I stand off in the wings.

“What are you going to make them do?” He asks, elbowing me with a smile.

“You’ll see,” I wink.

“Well, Pen? What is it?” Simon asks me, determined to stay at least four feet away from Baz.

“I’ve decided I’m done with your relationship drama.” Simon blushes and starts stuttering, trying to deny it.

“Wh- Pen, no. I mean… Baz and I- we’re enemies!” Baz stays silent, skin flushing slightly as he sets his jaw and looks the other way. I roll my eyes for what feels like the hundredth time today.

I huff, “This is what I’m bloody talking about!”

Before he can protest further, I lift up my ring and cast Music is What Feelings Sound Like. The magic takes hold almost immediately, darkening the lights in the room and stiffening the boys to stand straight. A spotlight moves to Baz, and music starts playing in the background. This song?! I have to stifle a laugh as I watch my spell play out perfectly.

*Baz’s POV*

Bunce is trying to kill me. I never intended Simon to find out my feelings- not like this. I wanted to tell him as his sword plunged into me, tears welling in my eyes. Not in a fucking song that is not even what I listen to, anyway. But my mouth moves with a mind of its own as I start singing the folky lines of a song I would never sing in a million years.

I look out into the crowd, a serious look on my face. (I can feel Simon’s eyes on me.) “If I had a million dollars-”

“If I had a million dollars…” Simon’s voice echoes mine as another spotlight shines on him, and I can hear Bunce’s stifled laughter from here. The spotlight fades off of him but stays on me.

My body moves now, too of its own volition, walking over to Simon and doing a small dance move that seems as though it could be from the 50s. He smiles at me and he’s the sun. (I know it’s just the song doing it to him, but a bloke can hope.) “Well I’d buy you a house-” After I sing the words, my body freezes in an ending dance pose. The spotlight moves from me to him.

Simon copies the move I just did, echoing me again and saying “I would buyyy you a house!” He freezes in the same pose as me. I love him.

“And if I had a million dollars-”

“If I had a million dollars!” I spin him into me and then back out, keeping our hands together.

“I’d buy you furniture for your house-”

“Maybe a nice chesterfield or an ottoman!” He comes back close to me and we do something resembling an upbeat waltz. There are many thoughts going through my mind, such as what the fuck, why me, and fuck me, Simon Snow. Mostly I’m just focused on how I tried to convince myself all those years that Simon’s eyes were boring blue. Nothing special. But the way that he’s looking at me right now, I have to come to the conclusion that I was bloody dead from the neck up, and his blue eyes are the most exceptional thing I’ve ever seen.

“And if I had a million dollars-”

“If I had a million dollars!” As we swing around the stage, Simon’s terrible wailing might be simultaneously the sweetest and most torturous thing I’ve ever heard.

“I’d buy you a K-car-” What is a K-car, and what the bloody hell am I doing with my hips?

“A nice reliant automobile!” We sing together the next part and Simon comes in close, twirling and pressing against me. If magic wasn’t controlling me I’d be sporting a right hard-on.

“And if I had a million dollars…” We sway together, looking into each other’s eyes, which is completely cliche and absolutely perfect. “I’d buy your loveeee…” I understand why this is the song I’m singing, but- why is he singing it if it’s supposed to tell each other how we feel? Perhaps Bunce’s magic is faulty.

But I don’t have much time to ponder over it, because the next thing I know, we’re ripping our clothes off to somehow reveal posh outfits that seem as though they could be from dapper dancers of the 1800's. We suddenly have tophats and canes, and before I can think much of it, I’m whisked away from Snow into some sort of solo with the spotlight on me.

*Simon’s POV*

I hate Baz very bloody much sometimes. His unwavering, pitch perfect voice and flawless dance moves. The way he looks right fit in the new clothes we suddenly have on. (Seriously, no bloke has a right to look that bloody fit in clothes from the 1800’s.) And now he has some sort of solo and I’m standing off to the side admiring watching him and singing a few parts with him.

“If I had a million dollars-” We sing together, Baz facing outward, me facing Baz.

“I’d build a tree fort in our yard!” He finishes, facing me with a smile. (I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Baz smile before. It’s… nice.)

“If I had a million dollars-”

“-you could help it wouldn’t be that hard!”

“If I had a million dollars-”

“Maybe we could put a little tiny refrigerator in there somewhere…” He comes over and grabs both of my hands, pulling me back to the center of the stage in some sort of dance-walk mix, and I copy his movements.

My mouth moves without my consent, as it so often does. “You know we could just go up and hang out.” I sing-talk.

“Like open the fridge and stuff and there'd be foods laid out for us!” (Even though it’s just a song, I would love to really do that. Maybe not with him, but maybe.)

“With little pre-wrapped sausages and things, mmm.” A part of Baz peeks through and he rolls my eyes like he so often does when I mention food. Usually I see it as hostile, but right now, it only seems like good fun between mates.

“They have pre-wrapped sausages but they don't have pre-wrapped bacon!”

“Well can you blame them?” He lets go of my hands when I say that and does some sort of dance step spin.

“Yeah!” He laughs and goes back to dancing with me. As we start on the next verse, I find myself not minding this so much anymore. This is… well this is a right fun ‘bonding exercise’. (I wonder briefly why this is the song we’re singing to each other, but my thoughts are wiped away as Baz takes my hand again.)

*Shepherd’s POV*

I lean into Penny as we watch the boys dance and sing, and I feel her shaking with laughter. As I stare on, I whisper into her ear, “What the fuck.”

She laughs harder. She continues watching the boys, and I start watching her. (She’s brilliant when she laughs.)

*Penny’s POV*

The boys are twirling around on stage in their dapper outfits and spotlights, singing about fur coats and elephant bones, and when Shepherd leans in to say what the fuck, I can’t help but nearly bloody colapse in a fit of laughter. I think Shep notices because he secures an arm around me as I’m about to go down and laughs into my shoulder with me. He doesn’t move his arm when I’m done laughing.

And I don’t tell him to.

*Baz’s POV*

I think this is what dying feels like. Simon, the bloody prat, comes back to my arms (I know he can’t help it) and starts swaying with me again as we sing the line “And if I had a million dollars, I’d buy your loveee…” He’s mere inches from my face, and right when my stomach nearly empties itself because fuck is Simon going to kiss me, he smirks and then dances away, begninning his solo. I can’t tell if I’m disappointed or relieved.

“If I had a million dollars-” We sing in unison.

“We wouldn’t have to walk to the store!” “If I had a million dollars-” “We’d take a limousine ‘cause it coooosts more!”

“If I had a million dollars-”

“We wouldn’t have to eat Kraft dinner!” And then we proceed to have a conversation about how we would eat Kraft dinner (whatever that is), but just more, with fancy dijon ketchups, which results in us both bursting into laughter.

*Simon’s POV*

We sing the rest of the song, and I can feel my body getting rather tired. But I also feel like this song is leading up to something- a big finish of sorts. To what I’m not sure, but I decide not to think about it, and instead focus on the fit bloke in front of me. We get to the last line, closer to each other than ever.

“If I had a million dollars…” We sway together, harmonizing. We throw our top hats and canes haphazardly into the crowd.

Just as the song hits its most musical, most climactic part, I yell “I’d be rich!” (Which is a very dumb me thing to say.) The music gives one last hard trumpet spurt and then cuts out. Just as it finally ends, the magic gives one last push and forces Baz and I’s bodies together, making us kiss.

It feels forced at first, but as the magic wears off, we both melt into it, grabbing hair, clothes, cheeks, anything we can get our hands on. (It must still be a little bit of the magic.)

The spotlights black out and Baz and I only spring apart moments later when we hear Shep and Penny slowly clapping.

*Penny’s POV*

They’re both somehow back in their normal clothes, and when they spring apart, they’re both flushed (Baz as flushed as he can physically be) and sputtering. (I’ve never known Baz to stutter- he must be very bloody into Simon.) They’re looking everywhere but at each other.

Shep and I come out of the wings clapping and I can’t help but wear a smug grin. “Yeah, enemies. Sure you are.” I laugh as they start sputtering out denials, but I can tell that both of them have some glimmer of hope- some sort of feeling that maybe they both feel the same way. (It took them long enough to figure it out.)

Even though they both deny it, by the time we walk out of the theatre (after Simon and Baz chatted privately), they walk out holding hands.

And I’d be bloody damned if either of them ever let go.

40 notes · View notes

chroniclackofselfpreservation · 3 years

Text

Creatures of the Night

Chapter 17 - the work of the world is common as mud

Back to the Beginning < Previous chapter / Next chapter >

AO3

Masterlist

(TW: panic attack, mild violence)

(The title of the chapter comes from "To be of use" by Margie Piercy.)

Patton stood motionless in one of the many janitorial closets at Baker’s Retired Living Community, chewing on his bottom lip absently. He didn’t mean to be slacking off, but his life had just become irrevocably strange, and he was still trying to digest it all. Giant talking snakes, amulets that could bring back the dead, witches, familiars, magic. Heck, Roman had died last night. Not to mention he finally had a label for the specific kind of freak he was. Sibyl. It didn’t sound too bad. In fact, it almost had a nice ring to it.

The closet door opened, and Dot jumped in surprise. “Oh! Patton, what are you doing in here?”

Patton whirled, mouth ticking up into his usual smile. “Nothing. Just looking for… ah! There it is,” he said, grabbing a random bottle of cleaner off the shelf.

“I can clean up whatever mess it is, kiddo,” Dot said with a smile, taking the bottle from him. “Your shift was over half an hour ago. Why don’t you head home?”

Patton swallowed. Why was he so nervous? Just because he had a name for his secret didn’t make it any different from all the years he’d hidden it from her up until now. Yeah, but now it’s also Virgil’s secret. And Roman’s secret. And Logan’s secret, he thought.

Dot’s expression softened. “Honey, are you doing okay? You haven’t been yourself the past couple of days.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m totally fine, Mom,” he laughed, exiting the closet. Dot closed the door behind him, unimpressed.

“Patton Timothy Baker, how many times have I told you not to lie to me?” she said, hand on her hip. Her words sent unsavory memories rippling through him. He lied all the time. She only caught him when he secretly wanted her to. Merri had taught him better than to be caught in a lie.

Patton put on a serious face and placed both hands on his mother’s shoulders, meeting her eyes. “Mom, I swear I’m doing just fine.”

“Okay,” she relented. “Oh! I made some cookies the other day. I want you to take some to the rest of the boys, okay?”

“Alright,” Patton said with a smile that looked easy and pecked her on the cheek. It wasn’t hard to lie to her, and he hated himself for it. With the others, they’d only been living together for a few years, and they each picked up on different things, making it harder to slip things by them. Patton had been lying to Dot for just short of a decade, now. But it made her happy to see him happy, so he put on a smile and told her he was fine.

* * * * * * * * * *

Patton walked home, despite all of his mother’s protests. Roman had dropped him off, since Logan had taken their shared car to work. Patton would usually have called Roman to come get him, but he was needing some time to think things through without people wondering why he was being so quiet.

Wakeby’s nightlife was just kicking into gear, though it wasn’t anything to call home about. Most of the people out at night were high schoolers hanging out with friends at the arcades, or old couples dancing on the outdoor patio of the one Italian restaurant in town. It was peaceful, but most of all it was quiet.

Patton thought about a lot of things. What would he dream of tonight? How were Roman and Virgil doing? Had Roman officially forgiven him for what he’d done? What was Logan going to do once the school year started? If they were still figuring out this thing with Roman and that witch, Patton doubted Logan would miss it for anything. But what toll would quitting his dream job take?

Oily, tangy smells wafted out of the single Chinese restaurant Wakeby had to offer. Patton looked up. It was packed with a bunch of theatre kids celebrating some performance they’d done, their enthusiastic re-singing of one of the songs leaking through the door. Patton smiled. He remembered when Roman had been one of those kids. Smiling and laughing and singing at the top of his lungs no matter who was watching.

A crash sounded from the alley a few steps ahead of him, and Patton grew still. His brain kicked into a steady calculation of risk, even though he knew it was probably just a raccoon. Some habits were harder to kick than others.

Low muttering and cursing reached Patton’s ears as he continued down the sidewalk, appearing as if he hadn’t noticed. So it wasn’t an animal. Definitely a person. Maybe a worker had knocked over a…

Patton stopped. He’d only been looking out of the corner of his eye, but upon seeing the small frame digging through the trash, his heart clenched and he’d stopped. It looked like a child. Patton ground his teeth, desperate to keep his mind in the present and away from the alleys and dumpsters of his youth.

“Hello?” he called softly, not wanting to spook the child. “I’m not going to hurt you. Do you need help?”

The small figure straightened, its back to him, wiping grime off its clothes. “I don’t think I’ll be needing your help, Sunshine. Move along.”

Patton made an involuntary noise of surprise and took a step back.

“What’s wrong, sibyl? Never seen a hobgoblin before?” the creature sneered—that’s exactly what it was. A creature. Not human by any means. Short, like a child, but with olive green skin turned muddy from trash and grime. Pupilless black eyes, a mouth lined with yellow fangs, and two floppy ears—almost like a dog. Hobgoblin. Patton’s mind reeled.

“How do you know I’m a sibyl?” he asked dumbly, still trying to figure out what he was supposed to do.

The hobgoblin laughed. “Are you serious? You’re practically glowing with it,” he gestured to all of Patton. His nose crinkled. “Geez, you smell like an oracle, too. What’d you do, roll around in a sacred temple or something? Ooh, whatcha got there?” he said, bounding toward Patton and pointing at the seran-wrapped plate of cookies he was taking home.

“Cookies,” Patton said, and several thoughts went through his mind at once. Whatever this creature was, it was obviously magical, so Virgil must know something about it. If not, he was sure Dorian could help them. Virgil had recently had his talisman stolen from him. There weren't too many magical creatures wandering the streets of Wakeby at the moment. How much was he willing to bet that this random goblin was the one who did it?

“Give ‘em to me,” the hobgoblin said, as if he expected Patton to light a candle and set him a fancy table as well.

In a matter of seconds, Patton sank back into his old, street-hardened self, finding both comforting familiarity and a darkness he hadn’t indulged in for a long time. He held the plate a bit higher, out of the goblin’s reach. He cocked an eyebrow and stepped into the shadow of the alley. “Why would I give them to you? They’re mine.”

The hobgoblin scowled. “But I want them!”

Patton lifted the seran-wrap and took a long inhale. He had to make sure that the creature wanted them more than anything before making his move. “They all smell so good. I don’t know if I can share.”

“Forget sharing,” the goblin growled, reaching to his belt. “How about you give me the food, and I don’t stomp around in your innards like a puddle?” The creature took out a nasty-looking knife with a serrated edge. Patton sized him up without showing it on his face. He’d been a tall child, and remembered having to fight other feral children for scraps of food. Naturally, he was comfortable fighting people significantly shorter than he was.

“Whoa! Alright!” Patton said, his eyebrows shooting up. “Don’t hurt me, I’m just setting them down.” He slowly lowered into a crouch. Patton didn’t like being on eye-level with that knife, but Wakeby was a clean town and there weren’t too many loose planks of wood or pipe just laying around for him to use. Using the plate to hide his free hand, he closed his fist around several small pebbles. He would have liked loose dirt better, to get in the goblin’s eyes, but again... clean town. Patton also didn’t like how close the hobgoblin was. He wouldn’t have time for a proper wind up to his throw.

Before the creature could so much as take a step toward the plate, Patton flicked his wrist as hard as he could, pelting the hobgoblin’s face with the pebbles.

“Ack! What the—” he cried his hands flying up to shield his face. One of the pebbles had been sharp, and cut a thin line across the creature’s cheek. Black liquid oozed out.

Patton wasted no time. In reacting, the goblin had shifted focus from his knife hand to his face, giving Patton just the opening he needed to seize his wrist and stand up straight, pulling the hobgoblin up off the ground.

“Hey!” he protested, kicking wildly. “Let me go, you stupid son of a pixie! What do you think you’re doing?” Patton squeezed his wrist. Not enough to break it, but enough to get his attention and keep him from trying anything funny.

“Now, that wasn’t a very nice thing to say,” he tutted, shaking the goblin a little.

“Okay! I’ll drop the—”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Patton said, prying the knife from the goblin’s hand himself. He’d been stabbed too many times when children with broken teeth and sharp nails agreed to “drop the knife” only to catch it with their other hand and stick him in the stomach. He was just lucky that Merri’s aunt never questioned where all of her first-aid kits disappeared off to whenever she replaced them. It was what had gotten him good at sewing stitches in the first place—better than Merri, though she’d never admitted it.

The knife was weighty, and far nicer than any weapon he’d used before. Most of his knives had been rusted blades with duct tape for handles.

Fully aware that he was turning his attention away from his enemy, Patton glanced behind himself briefly. This was really not a good position for someone to walk in on him. He’d hate to have to explain to some old couple why he was accosting a small green man behind a Chinese restaurant. Patton felt his arm dip as the goblin’s weight shifted. The creature’s legs wrapped around his arm, leveraging on either side of his elbow. Patton turned back around in a flash and pressed the knife-tip under the hobgoblin’s chin. The flesh was soft, and Patton could tell that he was dangerously close to breaking skin.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t break my arm,” Patton said as the goblin grew deathly still.

“I’ll let go if you do,” he growled.

Patton smiled. “How about you let go, and I don’t run this knife through your skull, hm? Sound like a fair trade?”

The creature grumbled, but released his legs from around Patton's arm. "Alright, now put me down!"

"What's your name?" Patton asked instead, keeping his grip on the goblin's wrist firm.

He glowered at Patton. "Remus."

"Good," Patton said, lowering him to the ground but retaining his hold. "Now, a friend of mine lost something very important not too long ago. You wouldn't happen to know what happened to a magical talisman in the past couple days, would you?"

"Up yours, freakshow. I ain't talking," he spat. If Patton hadn't been in the state of mind he was currently in, he would have reacted to being called freakshow. Now, he just bit it inside of his cheek, narrowed his eyes, and squeezed. Remus's eyes went wide.

Snap.

The gobin let out a yelp of pain, baring his sharp yellow teeth in a grimace. Something nagged at the back of Patton's mind. What are you doing? Are you seriously going to torture this creature? Patton set his jaw. Now was not the time for being soft and sensitive. You're doing this for Virgil, he told himself. Besides, you've done much worse than a broken wrist. This is nothing.

"What kind of crazy sibyl are you?" Remus gasped.

"The kind that doesn't like having his friends messed with," he replied, loosening his grip ever so slightly. "Give me the talisman."

"I don't have it."

"I'll break your arm next."

"I don't have it with me! But I can get it!" Remus said quickly, sweat beading on his pea-green forehead. "I'll get it for you, I swear!"

Patton hummed. "You know, I don't think I believe you. Where is it?"

Remus paled. "The trees lining that big black road just outside of town."

The highway? It was plausible that the goblin had been squatting out there, out of reach of random townsfolk. It was also quite possible that he was sending him on some fruitless goose-chase just to escape. "Alright. Take me there."

He released Remus's wrist, keeping a firm grip on his new knife. The hobgoblin cradled his arm against his chest, whispering curses against humans.

"Fine," Remus snapped as he guided Patton deeper into the shadows. "Just keep that knife to yourself."

"No promises," Patton said, and felt his chest seize. The words had slipped out without him even thinking. How could he say something like that? He thought of what any one of his roommates would think if they saw him like this. Patton was reminded all at once why he'd decided to hide who he'd been for half of his life. He was scary.

* * * * * * * * * *

An hour later...

"Hey, has anyone seen Patton?" Roman asked, padding across the kitchen in his bare feet.

Logan looked up from the book he was reading at the counter. "I haven't seen him. Wasn't he at work?"

Roman grabbed his phone, checking the time. "His shift ended a while ago, but he didn't text me to come pick him up. Do you think everything's okay?"

Virgil glanced over nervously from his spot on the living room couch, but said nothing. Logan placed his bookmark. "Patton's been known to stay after on occasion. He and his mother often have lengthy conversations, since he no longer lives at home."

"I'm going to text him anyway," Roman muttered, typing out a quick message.

Hey, you didn't ask for a ride home. Everything ok?

He closed his phone and set it on the counter. Roman rested his elbows on the counter and put his chin in one hand. He glanced and saw the amulet sitting dormant on the dining table a few feet away. It was almost like it was laughing at him. Stupid little prince thinks he can outwit the Dragon Witch that easily. He tapped out a quick rhythm with his fingers, then got bored and stood up again, pacing around the kitchen.

Logan cocked an eyebrow. "Something the matter, Roman?"

"It's nine o'clock."

"Indeed. Is there something special about that particular hour of the day?"

Roman brought his fist to his mouth, gnawing on the back of his thumb. "It isn't day. It's night. Almost midnight. I should... I mean, I'd usually be in bed by now, trying to get enough sleep."

"The curse is broken, Roman."

"I know it is."

"Then why—"

"I don't know!" Roman shouted, a painful laugh bubbling out of him. "I don't know how any of this works, but somehow I know it won't, and I swear if I have to look at that stupid amulet one more time—" Roman seethed, grabbing at his hair.

Logan nearly fell out of his seat, going pale. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Roman spat and Logan jumped again. Why was he so angry all of a sudden? It felt like everything was too close, too bright, and just wrong. He suddenly hated the feeling of the floor against the skin of his feet. He wanted to punch a wall. Something.

"His core's showing," Virgil said, standing up. Logan took a few steps back. Even that infuriated Roman. Why was he backing away? Why didn't he back away farther? Why was the carpet the wrong color? Why, why, why? Roman couldn’t breathe. He was gasping for air but he couldn’t breathe. He was dying again. He was dying again!

“Roman?” Virgil said slowly, taking a few steps forward. Roman backed himself up against the fridge. He slid down to a seat and hid his face in his knees. Everything was wrong. He was wrong. Everything about him was wrong, and he couldn’t figure out why. The curse is broken. He told himself that over and over, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

The lights went out. Roman hiccupped and opened his eyes, but it was only Virgil’s jacket draped over him. The air became warm and pleasant. It smelled of pine and dirt roads. Of Virgil.

He felt Virgil sit next to him, their shoulders pressing together. Roman leaned into the comfort, losing himself in the warmth, the smells, the closeness of his friend. He curled against Virgil, resting his head against his chest. He could hear Virgil’s heartbeat through his shirt.

Alive, he thought, visibly relaxing. Alive…

He felt Logan lower to a seat next to him and reached out from under the jacket to grab for his other friend’s hand. Logan grasped his searching fingers, but Roman circumvented his hand and latched onto his wrist, pressing his fingers just under Logan’s thumb and feeling for his pulse.

Roman could have cried when he finally felt the steady beat beneath the pads of his fingers, pathetic as it may seem. They were both alive—and so was he. He was alive and he would continue to be for many more years.

Virgil pinched the edge of his jacket and lifted it so he could see Roman’s tear-stained face. “Better?”

Roman sniffed. “Yeah.” He pulled the jacket down from over his head, fiddling with the seams. Roman finally understood why Virgil loved this thing so much. “Sorry,” he said, laughing wetly and retracting his hand from Logan’s wrist. “I freaked out a bit, there.”

“Don’t apologize,” Virgil said, almost harshly. Roman's eyebrows shot up. Virgil seemed to catch himself and his expression softened. He leaned his head back against the fridge and muttered, “You shouldn’t have to apologize for being upset.”

“Virgil’s right,” Logan said, placing a hand on Roman’s knee. “You went through something that very few people can even comprehend. It is understandable that you would be experiencing some stress, even after the incident occured.”

"Thanks, guys," Roman said. His phone vibrated where it sat on the counter and he shot to his feet. "It's Patton."

Virgil stood. "What did he say?"

"Almost home."

"That's it?" Virgil wondered, looking over Roman's shoulder.

Logan stood as well, straightening his shirt. "See? I told you—" he cut off as they all heard the sound of the exterior cellar doors slamming shut outside.

Roman looked at the other two, confused. "What was that?"

"Is someone out back?" Virgil mumbled, walking over to the window.

Without warning, Patton burst in through the door to the backyard. He was breathing heavy, and four thin red lines were gouged into his cheek as if something had scratched his face. "Virgil! Can you trap Remus in the cellar with some magic? I'm pretty sure a broom stuck between the handles won't hold him long."

Virgil paled. "What?"

"I have your talisman," Patton continued, reaching in his pocket and tossing a small object at Virgil. He dashed through the house. "Is the inside cellar door locked?"

"Patton, what is going on?" Roman demanded, chasing after him.

"Come on, Virgil! We need some magic barriers up around the cellar now, unless you want him escaping!" Patton shouted, testing the lock on the door leading to the basement. Roman jumped as something on the opposite side of the door rammed against it, scratching the wood wildly and growling in some unintelligible language.

Patton had a wild look in his eye, still breathing hard. He touched his cheek. "He's a nasty one, I'll give him that."

"Patton? What are you talking about? Who's Remus?" Roman asked. Patton blinked, as if he were seeing him for the first time, and a look of pure dread passed over him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Virgil pushed between them, something clutched in his fist.

"I need rosemary and something to write with. Chalk, a marker, something."

Logan was at their sides instantly, holding out a black permanent marker. Virgil snatched it from him, pulled the cap off with his teeth, and began scrawling across the wood floor. "Roman! Grab some rosemary," he ordered and despite his confusion, Roman complied. He dashed off to the pantry, frantically searching for the herb.

"Patton! Where's the rosemary?!"

"Um... third cabinet left of the sink!" he called back.

"These are bowls and plates!" Roman shouted desperately. How come Patton was simultaneously the only one who knew where anything was in the kitchen and had absolutely no clue where a single thing could be found? The basement door shuddered as something threw its entire weight against it. Roman heard the splintering of wood.

"Right of the sink! I meant right!"

"Hurry, guys!" Virgil barked. Roman nearly slipped and cracked his head open as he fumbled for the opposite cupboard. He wrenched it open and was met with an absolute mess of small bottles and jars of herbs. Roman didn't care, he just started grabbing plastic containers and throwing them over his shoulder.

"Found it!" he crowed, holding the ground rosemary above his head like a trophy and racing back to the cellar door. Virgil had drawn an intricate circle with various shapes and symbols throughout. Roman tossed him the rosemary and Virgil tore the lid clean off, dumping the entire thing on top of the sigil.

Virgil thrust his hand into the middle of the powder and the markings shone bright violet, washing them all in a purple hue. The air pressure dropped, and Roman's ears popped.

"Actuyê-sa ve mazhije tanah hielch isch tem!"

Virgil's words reverberated around the room, rattling inside Roman's ribcage like a bass drum. The familiar's face was alight with bright violet light, an unabashed grin splitting across his face as he spoke. Roman could practically feel the magic crackling off of him like static.

"Nimó-ah tchi ve üftahri dehl FRICHTA GHI DJEL!"

Virgil finished the spell and a sound like a thunderclap split the air, and the light exploded, blinding Roman for a split second. When he opened his eyes again, there was a symbol that looked like a mixture of an ampersand and a dollar sign seared into the door. They all stood in silence, staring at it. Virgil was panting, still clutching something in his fist. An absolutely giddy laugh broke out of him, and Roman thought it was the prettiest thing he'd ever heard. Still high on adrenaline, Virgil turned to Patton, grabbed his face, and kissed him right on the mouth.

Logan made a noise of surprise and Roman felt his face grow hot. When Virgil pulled away, Patton looked just as red, if not more so. If Virgil was embarrassed, it was completely overshadowed by his pure joy. He held up the small object. It was a button, black with purple spirals.

"Your talisman?" Logan asked, his voice sounding particularly hoarse.

Virgil nodded, that ear-splitting smile on his face. Roman would have thought he would have been more surprised at Virgil kissing Patton, maybe even jealous, but he couldn't get over that smile. Virgil definitely needed to smile more.

Patton still sat on the ground, fingers at his lips, looking dazed.

"You okay, padre?" Roman asked, walking over to him.

"Wha—? Oh, uh, yeah," he said, flushing even more.

"Are you sure? Those scratches look like they hurt. Maybe Lo should take a look at them."

"They aren't deep enough for stitches," Patton said, almost compulsively. He flinched at his words, looking away.

"What was that?" Logan asked Virgil. "Last time you did magic, you spoke in English."

"Witchtongue," Virgil said, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. "It's harder to use, but makes spells stronger."

Roman helped Patton to his feet, and turned to Virgil. "Sounds like you're in a good mood."

Virgil beamed. "What it sounds like is that we've finally got a fighting chance against Ursula."

#tw panic attack #panic attack tw #panic attack #tw violence #violence tw #mild violence

1 note · View note