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#OR were similar to accents or dialects i was already familiar with
aquadestinyswriting · 4 months
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For the worldbuilding ask:
ALYRO - Does this world have magic? DISKNETTE - What is the deadliest disease in this world? Is there a cure? STRIGNE - What are the most commonly used drugs/potions/etc? TEFFE - What kinds of accents do people have? How much do they vary in this location?
Hi there, thank you for the asks and I'm so sorry it's taken a bit to get around to these. Answers under a cut to save peoples' dashes as usual
ALYRO - Does this world have magic?
Titan definitely has magic since the setting itself was written as a generic high fantasy, european-centric one by the original authors of the Fighting Fantasy book series in the 80s. It's probably become a bit more magic-centric since then as all my writing is based on a couple of d&d campaigns that were set there.
DISKNETTE - What is the deadliest disease in this world? Is there a cure?
As of current writing the deadliest disease I've come up with for the setting is Burnout. It is an artificially created, magical disease that primarily affects casters of arcane magic, though there are a couple of variants that can affect people that cast other types of magic, though they're a lot rarer than the primary variant that I've written about. This primary variant of Burnout has a mortality rate of around 45%-50% though it results in at least some loss of the ability to cast magic in 95% of cases that do survive. The only cure that is currently available is an enough early diagnosis (within the first couple of hours of exposure early) and treatment with a Heal spell cast at the 9th power.
STRIGNE - What are the most commonly used drugs/potions/etc?
Since the setting is still a kinda-sorta medieval-style one as of the majority of my writing, most injuries and illnesses are treated with either healing magic or some sort of herbal remedy or potion. Standard d&d-style healing potions exist, but they're a bit too pricy for most of the common folk and healing magic, while available to all, is limited by the number of clerics or druids in a given area. Since the remedies and potions vary so much, it's hard to pinpoint which ones are the most common.
TEFFE - What kinds of accents do people have? How much do they vary in this location?
I'll answer this for the dwarves specifically as that part of the setting is more of my speciality. In the Fangthane area, the accent is best described as equivalent to "Central Scots(Edinburgh)", though the upper classes of the city-state tend towards a more 'Morningside' sing-song , prim-and-proper accent than the broader and rougher-sounding lower classes. Dwarven also tends to come in various language styles, with old dwarven being more akin to Scottish Gaelic and modern dwarven being a bit more equivalent to Scots. The gnomes that live in the enclave known as Gumthane (yeah, the gnomes are huge fans of bad puns) do tend towards a similar accent as the dwarves simply due to exposure, though it's a bit more tempered as they have their own language with it's own accent that developed separately. Since Allansia is a large continent, dwarven communities across the land have developed their own dialects and accents, some of which are more comprehensible to outsiders than others. I know it's a bit cliché to base the dwarves on people from Scotland, but as I am Scottish, it's just easier for me to write them that way since I'm already familiar with the accent and dialect I speak.
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ilovetheideaofu · 2 years
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TRANSLATED INTERVIEW thanks to skarsgard_bro on Instagram
Dazzling light
After taking over Hollywood, Bill Skarsgärd is back in Sweden. This spring, he plays the country's most legendary gangster. Now he wants to go further down into the cracks to find the light.
Text: Tom Cehlin Magnusson Photographer: Eric Broms Styling: Maria Montti
Bill Skarsgard hears voices in his head. Voices calling for crime, even. But before you throw yourself on the phone to announce the medical information or Stop the Press, Bill himself seems to take it eswxeasy. It even seems to be voluntary.After living with the monster project about Clark Olofsson's life for several years, Olofsson's raspy voice has forever engraved Western Gothic patterns in his brain. In addition to studying Clark Olofsson's voice throughout his criminal career (it's been a while, for anyone wondering), Bill has also, just in time for the final edit, invented his own variant of what he calls Clark Olofssonska.
Bill Skarsgard is sitting on a sofa in his office on Södermalm, alert despite an early morning with his daughter. "The narrator's voice is like a character of its own. It's a cool, jazzy soundtrack to the series, and when I was reading it, it was like ..." he snaps his fingers.
"It's a sawy Clark in a smoky bar with a cigar and brandy who a little pretentiously colors the story of hislife," he says.
"I have not seen how it turned out yet, it is possible that I have to redo that.
When Bill Skarsgard was to find Clark's voice, he and Jonas Äkerlund brought in external help.
"Jonas and I had a meeting with Fredrik Lindström and played stuff for him. And he as a linguist wrotean analysis that I got from him, he was so damn nice. "
What did you come up with?
"He still has a ton of Västgötskan even though he moved to Gothenburg when he was six years old. As a rule, you should change your accent if you move at that age. But he did not said something about it. There's a key to the character there. You yourself had changed that on the first day of school. But here is a bastard who went to school at Hisingen and did not change his dialect. He ran his race already as a child. " He seems both impressed and amazed.
"I find it incredibly fascinating with language. If you listen to people in the 70s, people who were in their twenties then speak in a special way, " he says and begins to imitate a sluggish Södermalm woman.
"But they do not talk like that anymore. People's own language changes during the course of life. They change their melody and emphasis. It's fascinating that one's own voice changes over time. But Clark Olofsson has sounded so similar to himself all along. Which also says something about him as a character. He does not change. During the past year, most of what Bill has done has happened at a more accelerated pace than language studies with Fredrik Lindström. He has more or less every day glued different types of loose beards to his face, been isolated in a hotel room in Lithuania, mixed drinks in a plastic cup on a rocking boat in Croatia and perhaps above all pulled down his pants at more filming locations than any blockbuster series on HBO uses. Jonas Äkerlund's Netflix venture Clark is a high-octane my thologisation of the country's most mythologised criminal with the record chronically pressed into the carpet. The series begins with Clark Olofsson saying "Now we drive, for hell" inside his mother's womb. Then the tempo increases. (He walks by birth sideburns.)
"I have probably never been like that ..." he says and becomes silent for a second.
"It will be damn exciting to see how it is received."
Bill Skarsgärd, Jonas Äkerlund and photographer Eric Broms sat at Hotel Lydmar on Blasieholmen in
Stockholm. The company checked over their shoulders from time to time. The atmosphere was a bit tense despite the light of summer evening. The atmosphere was torn up in one fell swoop for Bill more
than familiar voice. The whole table turned when a man suddenly exclaimed "Where the hell are they, the bastards?" and ordered a Bacardi and Coca-Cola.
"Then Clark sat down and held the box for an hour and a half. And you just sat and laughed at all his anecdotes. He really is a pro at it. I love such characters, " says Bill.
We're in Bill's office. In a small villa on Södermalm, the 31-year-old actor receives in a gray knitted sweater and black jeans. He offers a pair of felt slippers from a wooden basket by the front door and shows around. In one corner are a bunch of whiteboards, in the basement there is a music studio. In the toilet, Bill shows a framed mug shot of Clark Olofsson.
"It's cruel, it's a shitty house. I have this as a production company together with two of my best friends.
When you have a three-year-old at home, it's nice to have a place to go and get things done.
He now lives in Sweden again, after almost a decade in a suitcase around cities such as Los Angeles and
Toronto, together with his partner, actress Alida Morberg, and daughter Oona.
What does the production company do?
"We have several projects that we are developing. I live in Stockholm now, but the idea came from my friend who is an American screenwriter. We wanted to start doing things together. If you have close friends who are all incredibly talented at what they do, and you still hang out all the time, you can work together and do things together. It feels like the most fun way to work. For example, we are developingan animated TV series. An international project but rooted in Scandinavia ", says Bill.
"I have a couple of ideas for Swedish stuff that I would like to do. An anthology series about Stockholm, for example, where each episode is like a short film, short stories with a common thread. You tell little human life stories in each episode, it feels damn fun.
Recently, Bill debuted as a director with Soul of a Man, a short film based on Edgar Allan Poe's short story Bon-bon with his brother Gustaf and father Stellan in the lead roles. The reason we are seen is also a personal project. Clark is a real big bet. Jonas Äkerlund directs, backed by Netflix, For the first time, Bill Skarsgärd's name is not only on the cast, but also as executive producer. But what from the outside may sound like a luxury prestige project has rather been an itinerant stress circus for over a year.
"For a while, I felt that I didn't know if this will be possible to fulfill, it is far too ambitious for the budget. It was chaotic."
Why?
"Many different reasons, but above all because it is such an incredibly ambitious project. Jonas writes like a mower, a section can have 300 locations or something like that. This is not how television is done - anywhere. Locations cost money, "says Bill.
"Even in huge productions, like these Marvel series that are being released now, they go around in boring studio rooms - that structure is the TV model. But Jonas does not write like that, Jonas Äkerlund himself seems to have taken the stress calmly:
"All the recordings are intense, but this one was long. We had 90 days of filming spread over almost a year with a very ambitious script. Not a day that was the same as the other, which meant that it never became leisurely or boring. Every day was like a memory for life", says the director and praises the main character.
"I knew Bill was right for the role, I would not have done the series without him. Engaged, smart, dedicated, talented and sickly good-looking."
The result is something of a bush, says Bill. He is open about not knowing how the series will be received, but it is obvious that he feels for the series. When he starts talking about Clark Olofsson, he has a hard time quitting.
"It will be very fun to see how it is received and what it can find for audiences in the rest of the world.
Almost all of Jonas' stuff makes Dad kind of cult follower. The tone of the show will probably be quite polarizing, either you love it or you hate it. And it's fun, then you at least arouse emotions", says Bill.
"I've seen them all now and it's unbelievable that we managed to row all this home. It really is a miracle. It really is … something, " he says.
"And very much Jonas. He has basically written everything himself. He has a very special tone. Which I hope will be very refreshing for a Swedish audience", he says.
"It's so incredibly naughty."
The series is based on Clark Olofsson's autobiography, and the degree of truth is accordingly.
"The series' tagline is 'based on truths and lies'. And lies should be in capital letters - it's told from Clark's perspective, which is probably a bit of a mythomaniac himself. You have to keep that in mind, a lot of this stuff happened, but it did not happen in this way. And one should not have too much confidence in the narrator. He does not take into account the victims, who he has exposed to terrible things, and neither does the series. It will be a point of it, and I hope you understand that", says Bill.
Reading Clark Olofsson's Wikipedia page is like reading the script for a twisted Scorsese movie. He has been called Sweden's first and only pop gangster. On the run from a youth care school in 1965, he picked grapes, cucumbers and tomatoes from Tage Erlander's official residence in Harpsund, the following year he escaped from a prison for the first time. After the Norrmalmstorg drama in 1973, where he became the concept of the Stockholm Syndrome, he has escaped from more or less every prison that can be escaped from, robbed banks, convicted of drug smuggling, acted as an intermediary in the theft of some Picasso paintings and changed his name a couple of times. When Clark Olofsson was interviewed last year by Janne Josefsson, an old neighbor from Hisingen in Gothenburg, he said that according to a contract with a film company, he was forbidden from participating in criminal activities. But that his ears still register things that move outside the world of clauses. "I am open to ominous proposals. Pig-like proposals", Olofsson said then. Back to Lydmar's outdoor restaurant, and what you can expect is a couple of Bacardi and Coca-Cola later.
"When I met him for the first time, I felt like I had been in this person's head for so long and seen hours of archive material on him - almost every decade of his life, there's some shit he's done that he's being interviewed about. - and so I myself fell victim to him. I liked him. Though it's a person who has done so many terrible things in his life. But then you still sit and tan and shake your head when you look at his interviews."
Was it difficult to portray such a person?
"I had done a lot of research on him before the script actually existed. When Jonas started writing, I realized that this is not a real, true interpretation of this man. And it was a bit difficult in the beginning he says. You tried to portray a real person, and then you read the script and felt that this is not how it works.This is not how you behave. It became clear that I had to separate the real man and my embodiment from him. But despite the tone of the series, there is a lot of this real person in that, somewhere. Which was very important," says Bill.
"But then we found the tone, and it's a Kalle Anka version of the real Clark. The series depicts nothing in a realistic way. When you talk about Clark, everyone thinks you should make a serious, dramatic, subtle and minimalist series. And this is the complete opposite. Because Jonas is like that. It's not a Marcimain interpretation of Clark Olofsson, directly?
"I've told people it's a comedy, and people do not understand how it can be. But his life is incredibly humorous. And cooked and crazy. Every single interview you see with him, you sit and laugh, because he is so fucking entertaining. The series is in the same tone as when he sits and entertains an interviewer, but it's like the audience becomes the interviewer. And the audience also falls victim to the Stockholm syndrome. Just like so many in his life have done.
In addition to Bill, his partner Alida Morberg appears in the series, friends Adam Lundgren and Björn Gustafson also play prominent roles in the series. His little brother Kolbjörn also appears in the first episode. Adam Lundgren says that the recording was like a summer camp.
"We talked several times that it is unbelievable that we have had to do this together and at the same time get paid. It was as if two polar bears took the key to the mask and suit store and then just blew on, says Adam. The series has been postponed several times. It's clear that Bill has had a lot of time to think about Clark.
"Despite all the fucking shit he's done, there are so many sick people who forgive him. The whole Swedish people did it. The majority, at least. And everyone from prisoners to prison directors loved him. He managed to gain trust over and over again even though he fucked up, escaped, manipulated and lied. People fell for him and forgave him all the time. Not least in the entire Norrmalmstorg drama ", says Bill.
"There was something in him that made people want to be with him, want to forgive him or take his side. Even though he was wrong in almost all incidents, and made mistakes. How does it feel to play such a person?
"It was so much dirty, dirty stuff. Pig stuff. When you play the scenes, it does not feel fun, because the character is so manipulative and lies all the time. When you look at it, it's fun, but doing it was not fun. I had to be the pig. But that it is nasty becomes clearer and clearer, and I hope that you have the strength to look at him all the way through because in the end it is like ..", he interrupts and makes a flushing sound.
"And it is important, I think, that you feel that way in the end."
He limps a bit. It is a few weeks before Bill Skarsgärd will go to South Africa to start filming Boy kills world, a kind of dark action comedy made by Sam Raimi, iconic director behind, among other things, the
Evil dead films. Not much about the film is known, but according to IMDB, the plot seems to involve a deaf-mute boy who, with the help of a shaman, becomes a murderer on a revenge hunt. As you can perhaps trigger from the core synopsis, it takes some training to do the role. Before Bill leaves Sweden, he therefore has a strict training schedule, which has resulted in an injured leg when he shows up for the photo shoot for Café's cover.
The sun shines in through the wide windows of the Old Town. The photography is something of a reunion: The series about Clark Olofsson has been made in close collaboration between Jonas Äkerlund and the photographer Eric Broms. The photographer pulls out the phone and shows Bill films from the recording, Bill laughs and imitates Jonas Akerlund's sloppy 90s Stockholm. When Bill stands in front of the camera, something happens. His features are strengthened, his eyes become even larger at the same time as his lips and cheekbones are pulled out as if there were invisible threads at the ends.
Nowadays, he is an experienced Hollywood name. Following the success of Pennywise in the immensely popular IT films (the first is the most lucrative horror film ever, among others), he has made major appearances with, among others, Tom Holland and Robert Pattinson, an action film with Keanu Reeves army, another with Adrien Brody there.
He was not even twenty years old when he stepped up to Hannes Holm with a couple of glasses inside the vest to convince the director that he was the only alternative for the lead role in Behind Blue Skies.
Just a couple of years later, he had been sacked by legendary agent William Morris Agency and booked a role in Hemlock Grove, one of Netflix's first original series.
Bill did his first cover interview for Café on the fruitful trip to Los Angeles. He told me that he and his friends had nowhere to sleep, and how his father had exclaimed a "fuck off" when he heard how quickly his son had landed his first Hollywood role. Streaming services were so new that the writer had to explain what one was.
That was, in short, just before a revolution would turn the film and television industry upside down.
"The industry in the United States tanned. It became a completely different world then. I belonged to the generation that understood that it is quite obvious that that was the future. There was no doubt about that. I'm from the Napster generation. The Sopranos were downloaded the day after it was released in the United States. They did not sit and wait for a year for it to be released on SVT", says Bill.
He himself is an old-fashioned celebrity in some sense: he has no social media and is barely visible to the public when it is not time for a film premiere. At the same time, his own career has developed symbiotically with the new media landscape.
"It feels more exciting to be a part of the industry today than it was five years ago," he says.
"If you make a Swedish horror film that is released on a streamer, you can change your career throughout the day. Like the Squid game guy, he had a shitty idea that he's been trying to get done for a lot of years. Today, a young David Lynch can do something in a country like Sweden and find five percent die hard fans. Five percent of 150 million viewers is quite a lot. Then you can do things that are alternative and strange, but if they are good enough, they can resonate with enough people to be a success."
You mention that Clark is quite daring, has not Netflix been in and poked at something?
"No, I do not know if there is any other production company that would make this series. You could never have done it on SVT. It can probably be very offensive, I think. And it is very own and alternative And it was not cheap to make. Even if we had far too little money, our ambitions were dashed. So it is the giants who have the capital to issue provocative things?
"Yes, I have felt a little general that this particular industry has been shaped so much by the political climate. That projects must represent one side of the political climate. That the point of the project is to do it. Fine, I think, It's hard to do good things in those templates, but it's done. And then it is important and great that it is done. It probably goes in cycles, but it is important that there are also things that become more nuanced and messy and add to it more. It's more appealing to me," says Bill.
"If I look at something or read something, I want it to be messy. If it's clear what the message is, it's going to be boring for me. And very often not true. The characters are not there for the sake of the characters but to fulfill a function. A preacher. He says that there must be room for art that is not constructive.
"None of this really has anything to do with Clark, it's way too clumsy for that, but it does not fill checkboxes for politically correct demands anywhere. And that is a statement in itself. I do not know the Swedish industry so damn well, but such demands might come more from elsewhere. And then that series could not have been done " says Bill.
"Most people make mistakes. Telling about people who make mistakes, where you have to get an opinion yourself, and maybe even have a different opinion depending on who is watching, is very important. There is nothing challenging about enjoying a morally perfect person. Then it is important that it exists also. But what I'm getting turned on by is what's weird and wrong. A man turns off Hollywood Boulevard, depresses the brake and looks out the car window. And looking. The cortisol levels in the blood are not lowered by the dry, white make-up on the face or the red wig that itches. When the car is parked, an almost two-meter-long clown-made man steps out of the car and rushes into an office. So in retrospect, when Bill Skarsgärd got the role of Pennywise in IT (the trailer became the most watched of all time and the film the most lucrative horror film of all time), it feels obvious. But on the way to his second audition, Bill Skarsgärd was just a guy in clown makeup who had a little too much time to think about how he would have to wash away the perhaps overly clear symbolism from his face if he did not get the role.
"I was quite young when I did Pennywise, 26 years old. The whole thing was to figure out how he sounds. You can not sound like yourself, you have to invent the voice. That whole role was just one big voice job. With the laughter and all that stuff. I was terrified that it would sound strange or wrong, but I went for it. And felt that it went well. Then I gained self-confidence and realized that I could work with the voice and make it something else.
I read that you came up with that laugh just on that drive to your audition?
"Well, not as a finished product that way. But I wanted the laughter to be as close to panic anxiety or hysterical crying as anything fun."
The role that turned him into talk show couch material was as done for him. His stretchy facial features are widely talked about at this point. During the filming of the sequel to It, sneaky pictures spread that went viral when he scared the shit out of Bill Hader by showing how Pennywise's spreading pupils were not the result of any special effects. On Conan O'Brien's and Stephen Colbert's couches, he got to show off his resilient mind game that earned him the role of Pennywise.
"It's a thing that I think Sweden is bad at. Even if you look at our biggest actors, they have patents on themselves. There are not many who make twisted transformative characters where you barely recognize the actor. There are some, but not many. The big icons, like Persbrandt, always go in and out is as good as it gets - but it's always Persbrandt. It's like Humphrey Bogart, you pay to see Bogart," says Bill.
"My brother Gustaf I always think goes for it. He can get a lot of criticism for that sometimes, but he does something - he does an old man. A character. Or David Dencik, people who invent funny things. But that's pretty unusual. And it takes courage to do that. It will be a step outside of yourself. It is harder to own the truth the further away from yourself you come. But then it also becomes the challenge. That it may wear or break. When I look at Clark now, there's not much Bill there anyway. It's something else, a fucking spectacle.
This autumn, Bill is also relevant as Sven Stole in Björn Runge's Burn All My Letters, based on Alex Schulman's novel about the love story between Karin Stole and Olof Lagercrantz.
"Then I'm also making a fucking old man. But as far from Clark Olofsson as you can get. In the 1930s, people spoke completely differently. I watched interviews with Stolpe, there are not many from when he is young but when he gets older: Okay, what happens if I cast this voice?" he says and begins to imitate the controversial author.
He himself has several voices. On the TV couches of Conan O'Brien, Stephen Colbert and Jimmy Kimmel, he is a thoroughbred professional, born to fold one leg over the other and smile into the right camera. In other interviews, he has a politely formulated distance to personal questions. But when he talks about languages and dialects, his voice thickens, he laughs and imitates (does an old man, as he himself says). His Södermalm dialect unfolds to its full wingspan.
"There will be people who will be bothered by it. But there is a fucking difference between my Sven Stolpe and my Clark Olofsson. You will not recognize them. And that's what's exciting. That's what gets me started. The films are coming out the same year and they do not sound the same at all. It's a fun risk to take.
A couple of years ago, he did one of the lead roles in The devil all the time along with names like Tom Holland and Robert Pattinson. A role as far away from Russian-German-Icelandic man as a Swedish actor usually gets to put its canines in, with a deep Appalachian dialect from far down in a dialectal mine where diphthongs come to die. You even get praise for your English in your Flashback thread.
"Yeah! I think it's fun. When you do that, there is a risk in it. The safest thing an actor can do is to talk like himself. Every time you do something that is not yourself, you go outside your comfort zone. English is not my natural language. In Devil all the time it was my first job where I felt like fuck it, I'm going there. And so I thought it went damn well. And then it has colored all the other things I do now " says Bill.
"The accent is one thing but the voice is the role. The voice tells something about the person. If you were a working class in West Virginia, it colored how you talked, and what you talked about. You were not allowed to talk about emotions. And then you realize that that is the role. A person who has far too much emotion and no one to talk to. Post-traumatic stress did not even exist as a term in the 1940s." he says and tells of when he managed to capture how the character would sound. He clasps his hands.
"Okay, fuck it - this is him. Here we go!"
This year he is doing two of Sweden's biggest projects in film and television, soon he will appear in a bunch of American films with, among others, Christoph Waltz in the cast.
"Now we'll see how it goes with the Swedish stuff, there will probably be negative Flashback reviews as well. I promise people will bothered about it. But my hope is that many will feel that it's cool that the guy who sits and is interviewed on a TV couch does not sound at all the same way as in the film", says Bill.
Is that what you're looking for in a role?
"Now it has become a thing for me. I kind of think it colors the choices I make today, "says Bill.
"I like it to be weird."
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princessnijireiki · 3 years
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there is nothing like living in a place where people got a real pronounced accent to realize you also have a DIFFERENT but equally strong accent situation yourself... your past lack of self awareness literally hits you TANGIBLY, like oh my god have I been sounding this new york my whole life? I hate that for me 😭
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idiotic-genius · 3 years
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How to write a foreign character in a new country
Requested by @ii-maysqq
So when you write a story, some of your characters might travel the world and see new places. That can be really scary and confusing at times! Here’s a small guide on how to write that realistically.
1. What does the character already know about the country?
Depending on how spontaneously they decided to get there, they might know very little about the culture and rules of the country. For example, what if you came to Greece without knowing that nodding your head up meant “no” instead of “yes” (which would be nodding your head down)? So that’s something you should think about first. Did the character do research before their travel? Did they just google it on the plane or did they spend at least a month planning? This could greatly affect how confident the character is in themselves when they arrive. That planning also has to do with the character’s personality, whether or not their quickly anxious and how spontaneous and confident they are in general.
2. How different is the new country from their own country?
There’s a big difference between going from the Netherlands to Germany and going from Russia to Japan. Your character might experience something called a “culture shock”, which means that they start feeling absolutely out of place because they don’t feel incorporated in the new culture they’ve got thrown into. For this, you should try to research the different cultures of the character’s original country and the one they are visiting. Sometimes, there’s also the possibility that the different countries are quite similar. That can be used for funny situations where the character thinks everything’s fine and familiar and then something happens that throws them of. What about for example England and America? They aren’t so different in many ways, but one big thing that pops into mind is that in England you drive on the left side of the road, and in America they drive on the right. Imagine stepping out of the airport, thinking to yourself “Yass welcome to America!” and then almost getting run over by a car because you looked the wrong side of the road- That can be quite shocking. But the character might also find comfort in the small things that remind them of their original country. You could also try to find out how the currencies are in the two countries- will the character have to adapt to a new system? Do they have to go to the bank to exchange currencies? Will they need time to get used to paying “2 dollars” instead of “17,85 Dirham”, or is the currency the same after all? That’s an important thing to take into consideration.
3. Languages
Of course, language is a very important part of traveling and living in a new country. In most countries, people can speak English and that’s really practical, but on longterm, not knowing the language of a country you want to live in evolves into a grave problem. And even if your character already knows the language, modern slang could be a real struggle. Textbook-Vocabulary might be enough for work and studying, but in daily life, not knowing what certain words mean can get so very annoying. Another thing to consider when including struggles with language could be accents and dialects. As an example, people from the north of Germany and people from the South can barely understand each other because of their different dialects, so even if someone knows German, they might have to learn even more just to live in a certain area of the country. Also, obviously British English and American English are not the same at all. On one side, there’s the accent, on the other, some words are completely different. In school, we used to do exercises that were like vocabulary tests where you had to “translate” words from British to American English, which included “cab” and “taxi”, “holiday” and “vacation” and so on and so forth. The point is, even if your character already speaks the “right” language, locals will probably notice rather quickly that they are not from around, whether it would be from their accent, because they don’t know the slang or because they use different words for the same thing.
4. People and structures
This point is a little abstract, but I wanted to include it anyways. Depending on how far away the character is traveling, they will probably encounter people that behave very differently than what they are used to. Here, you should look out that you don’t overdo stereotypes. However, you can say with quite some certainty that America is much more diverse than Germany, and that in France, the people are more warm and matey than in England. But don’t go into the extremes and make every American a bald-eagle-breeder that quotes the Declaration of Independence at every possible occasion and every German a beer-loving N*zi, that’s just unrealistic. With “structures”, I mean that you could look into the classical architectural styles of the country that the character came from and the one they’re in now. Sometimes, those can be very different, so it can be a cool detail to include in your story.
5. Reactions
As mentioned, when you’re new to a country, people WILL notice. The question is, how do they react? This also has to do with where exactly your character is living, not only country-wise, but also whether they’re in a big city, a suburban neighborhood or the countryside. Furthermore, of course you’ll have to find fitting reactions for your character. Are they intimidated by the big buildings of the city because they’ve only known small two-level-builds so far? Are they excited to get to know new people and learn a new language, or are they scared? You should consider that and more to make that part of your story as realistic as possible.
6. Example
As originally requested, here’s some inspiration for writing a british character coming to America for work/study.
They’ll probably be very much confused by what side of the road the cars drive on, and, depending on whether they have a car, will have to concentrate a great deal the first few times they drive themselves. They will have to adapt to the American English and try to stop saying “chips” instead of “fries” when ordering, and it their accent could make them insecure at times, especially if they’re surrounded by locals. Furthermore, they would have to participate in Thanksgiving and the Independence Day because all of their new acquaintances will. Halloween may not be a much bigger deal in America than it is in England (because it’s a really important thing there), but the Christmas traditions can differ greatly. The character would have to deal with the fact that they pay in dollars now instead of pounds, and would have to arrange themselves with the knowledge that one of their favorite snacks doesn’t exist in America.
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smoresasaur · 3 years
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February 13th 6:15 pm
The flower shop
Seeing as it was the day before valentines day, the flower shop was mainly filled with roses, tulips, daisies, orchids and carnations. Seeing he was out of costume it always was a surprise to see any familiar face walk into the store. Maybe at around four one of the people he known decently came in requesting flowers, yellow roses to be exact.
So now the man known by the others as Shadow had a fair amount of band aids around his fingers after dethorning what seemed to be ten thousand roses.
It was no surprise hearing the little bell on the door ding. It was not the most popular flower shop but it was one of the better known ones by people who skated. Especially the five people he hung out with nearly on an every other day basis.
The only thing that he was surprised by was the subtle Canadian accent in the Japanese dialect. Not surprising of who it was. But just to see him this close to Valentines day was odd, especially when he was actually going to be working on the day of.
"May I get..." The blue headed male paused as he did the math, or tried to recollect how many roses he did wish to get. "Six yellow roses with red tips?"
It was a surprise that Langa ordered that many. Six roses did mean that somebody was saying 'I want to be yours' so he assumed Langa had a crush.
He did get working on that while Langa waited with everyone else. It was good to not see anybody he known there when he was giving and paid for the flowers.
It was a positive to have been out within twenty minutes for Langa. He got to go right home only to be stopped by Miya holding a yellow rose out to him. It was the only rose that didn't have a romantic meaning.
"Thanks for being a buddy." The male had said, he didn't want anything in return but as he wasn't affectionate like the older male Langa known he did wait to give a flower. "It's not needed to return it."
Langa thanked him and was surprised to see they were both going in the same direction. Curiosity was killing the cat as Miya saw the roses Langa held close.
"So I think you know what the colour of your roses mean but who are you giving them too?"
Langa did stay quiet as he had to think of how to phrase it. "Well you do know them."
Miya known exactly who it was by that answer, not even having to think. Both were heading towards Reki's house.
Miya did make his way to everyone's house to give them their respective roses. One to Langa then one to Reki. And then he made his way to the rests. Leaving one at Shadow's door with a note.
February 13th 7:00 pm
Kyan residence
They had spent fifteen minutes so far together before it finally dawned on Reki to ask about the flowers, "so who are they for?"
"You." It was a one worded response as he did offer them to the male beside him, they were sitting on his bed afterall so this was an easy feat.
Reki did blush, even if the male wasn't expecting it. He known of the rose meaning. Falling in love.
They did hug for a bit. No concern of the sisters walking in as they cuddled and watched videos all the time. They said the happy valentines day thing early, just in case their boss caught on at work.
February 13th 9:55 pm
Flower shop
It was right before closing time for the day. The day before valentines they always went a longer day so any last minutes didn't happen to deal with no flowers being available.
Kaoru was one of the last costumers to show up but he did request for a sunflower but also three red roses. He was well aware of that meaning behind the colour and the amount of roses.
February 13th 10:15 pm
Joe's house
It did take a bit for the male to arrive but eventually he was there. Flowers in hand and a box of chocolates in another. They have been dating for just over three months now in secret.
Sure their instragrams respectively known that the. were taken. But not by each another.
Nanjo's mainly consisted if the other was shown of him from behind. It was nice as it did promote the restaurant as well, most people would come to him for relationship advice most were good.
Kaoru didn't really have much posted rather than random drawn things on the others back so he could zoom in. Sometimes it was calligraphy but other times it was simple things that he just got bored and started. Elephants and suns were frequently featured.
But Joe did answer the door, a little bummed as to how late the other shown up. But he did clean up well, wearing a deep v cut shirt so yes his chest was on display, no surprise. Jeans and socks as who wears shoes inside the house.
Kaoru did spy a vase that Joe had set up. Two vases to be correct. One was filled with water and waiting for flowers. The other had lavender roses. Ten to be exact and a branch with cherry blossoms on it.
They did decide not to do anything too grand. No pre valentines day dinner. But they did decide to bake this late at night.
Cupcakes were simple and they could have them done before eleven.
So that is what the decided to bake. Cupcakes, Cherry was in charge of dry ingredients as last time there was a fair amount of eggshells.
An idea did spring into his head as he coated his hand in flour. It was practically the only thing to do and a smirk did form on his face while he placed his hand on the males lower back to see how the food was coming along for the taller. That hand did trail down as he patted the males backside in a playful manner.
It took Nanjo a second to realize what exactly has just happened. So a grumble came out. He could change when the cupcakes were in the oven.
But they decided to make the icing early and listen to music from the radio. Slow dancing in the kitchen while the music played. Kaoru's hands now did not have any flour any more as they bits there transfered to the males back.
February 13th 11:30 pm
Joe's still
With the cupcakes now decorated they shared two on the couch. Joking a bit as they did watch a horror movie, occasional jumps from Cherry at the jumpscares.
When the cupcakes were gone that they brought to the living room, they did cuddle under a blanket. Letting the clock tik and tok while the night shifted to early morning.
February 14th, 9:35 am
Joe's Place
It being so early in the morning Joe was cooking while Cherry slept in a bit. He did get breakfast ready which was only something sweet And fruity so a bigger breakfast didn't do so much.
After waking the pink headed male up and presenting him with food. He did go off to set up the other surprise while Kaoru ate.
That other surprise that the male did get set up was in the bathroom as hey he did know a fair amount of what Kaoru liked but also what woman liked in general. So he could put that into the efforts to serenade more than he already has done.
The male did draw a bath, making sure it wasn't too hot or too cold, rose petals were added as well as a cherry scented bubble bath. It was one that Kaoru jokingly talked about once with the others while practicing that Joe overheard. So of course he made a note to pick up something similar. Or exact.
Either way a glass of wine had been poured up each for the two respectively, before he set them up to go and get the other male who gladly was finished his meal.
He did set the stuff aside as he could clean later, when he got the chance that wasn't snuggling with the other.
They did go to the room, sharing a bath and some wine. There were occasional splashes as they adjusted or insults they just had to throw at each another. They did have affection mixed in with them, practice for another time. When they would be skating at S again.
But it was a highly enjoyable time for both. Joe wasn't spending Valentines day with anyone but Koaru, refusing to go with the hoard of girls he had.
It was a nice time with the other male, kisses were stolen as they both needed affections. Some of them more than others. But the day was spent at home until Joe had to go to work.
The day was good, Kaoru was staying over the night again for more affections as he was a light weight with alcohol. Cuddles, kisses and scary movies was a lovely way to spend the day of hearts and flowers.
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come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years
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Thank you so much for writing such a detailed answer about NLMG🥰 I also really enjoyed the discussions about the novel, trying to understand things like why they never left the school etc. After reading reviews and ishiguro's statements, we came to the conclusion that he wanted to show a phenomenon (a part of human nature), which often happened in history, where people were forced to live in bad systems and just kept living in it. Also if you want to talk about HP, do it. I would love to know☺️
No, nonnie 🤧 thank you for asking! I LOVE talking books and I haven't really been able to since covid kicked me of my college campus.
But, yes! That was the same kind of conclusion we reached in my class! This refusal to leave because you don't know if leaving will put you in a better situation. There's this sense of fear that surrounds the uncertainty of what's outside the life you've been forced to live!
Continued under cut, because this gets L O N G
When nonnie reads the tags so you get to ramble some more 🥺💕
So, here's some things that you may have never known about Harry Potter and how J.K. Rowling showed that she was G A R B A G E even before letting the world know she was a terf :D! Watch me get attacked by the Potterheads oml
First things first, I'm mainly going to focus on some of the over-arching themes, because that's what we covered in class, but there's still plenty to talk about.
Let's start with the Durselys. Now, if you've only seen the movie, this fact gets lost, but in the novel, they are depicted as having blonde hair and blue eyes. Now, this may not seem like much of anything, but there's a really cool parallel between Harry Potter and Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre (another very thought provoking novel). Specifically in their openings. The Durselys are pretty much copy and pasted from the Bronte's Reed family. I'm talking looks and personalities. They're violent and always picking on little Jane (small, frail, dark hair, green eyes. Familiar description, yeah?) I'm like 62% sure that Jane gets called dirty because of her looks and how she doesn't fit the Aryan ideals (please note: when I say Aryan I mean the ideals that have come to be associated with Hitler's "master race" rather than the true background of the word). Hmmm it's almost like Harry also doesn't fit in because of something similar. Harry has Lily's eyes and his father's hair, a direct link to his magic background. Bold of you to assume that he didn't stick out like a sore thumb in the Dursley family just because. No. It's so we could have a PHYSICAL difference as to why Harry is looked down upon.
The Smelting stick :) oh you mean something that I did extensive research on? It's a symbol for Dudley's power in the house :) the historical connotations behind walking sticks shows us that they were more widely carried by those who were in high power and authority (think about how royalty wield scepters). As time progressed, they also were made into weapons, some even being equipped to conceal daggers and pistols. Now, Dudley's stick may not have been doubling as a knife, but we can ALL tell that Dudley is the real ruler of the house, even before getting his stick (possible penis imagery which adds another level of masculinity into the conversation. I promise if you ever study lit in an upper level course, everything is a penis). But by giving him the Smelting stick, Rowling is really just giving you affirmation that Dudley is the head of the household as he B E A T S Harry with it. (The same idea of stick = power can be seen with the Malfoy men. Lucius carries a walking stick which is then given to Draco my BABY in half blood prince because HE'S calling the shots, so to speak. Also are going to ignore that a 16 year old CHILD started a W A R? like come on. That's fucked up. I can and will write an essay on why Draco deserves way more sympathy than what he gets and I'm not just saying this because I love him. But back on topic)
Harry living under the stairs? That is literally showing how he is beneath everyone in the Dursley home and how they walk all over him. There's not much else to explore there ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
The Goblins at Gringots oho ho 👀 this one left me shook when I found out. They're supposed to be Jewish people. It plays very heavily into the anti-Semitic view that Jews are stingy and greedy. Also?? They work underground?? Which uhhh doesn't sit right with me now that I know what I do, but maybe I'm reading too much into things.
We all know the House Elves are literally S L A V E S employed by everyone's favorite school nonetheless 👀 but here's what really drives me bonkers about that. Rowling insists that they LIKE it. Dobby is the only one who gets out of the system and the others are essentially like "bitch why the FUCK do you wanna be free." But isn't it nice to get a little insight on what she thinks of slavery smh 😔 didn't Kanye say the same thing? About slavery being a choice or that they liked it or something?? Or am I just tripping?
N E WAY. Here's one of my favorite parts. DIALECT. I don't remember if this gets mentioned in the books, but I know it's in the films. So, if we put Ron, Draco, and my queen McGonagall all up next to each other and have them say the same thing, what the difference? Their dialect. They accent they have is directly linked to their social class. Ron has more of a cockney accent, which is used by working-class Londoners. It's essentially the Southern accent of Americans, so it's typically associated with being dumb, so it kinda fits that not only is Ron Weasley poor, he's also not the brightest. Say it with me friends. Classist. Draco has a posh accent, so he's rich and super smart but also kind of a brat, especially early in the series ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ McGonagall is Scottish. That accent is very desirable because it EXUDES class. So, it seems to make sense that one if the older, wiser characters gets to be Scottish.
I wish I could go on and on, but I don't remember everything we talked about?? There was a lot of stuff JUST on Hogwarts itself and the British private school system and the classism you can find rooted there, but I don't really remember it all?? There's things about the roots of last names, specifically Potter vs Malfoy and the whole Anglo-Saxon vs Anglo-Norman roots of their names and how it translates to class and their beliefs. I could go on for YEARS about why I can't stand Albus Dumbledore but this post is already massive 😩 so I really shouldn't.
Nonnie, thank you for letting me ramble on about all of this. I've missed talking about books. It's honestly something that I will always enjoy :') my brain just thrives off of underlying meanings 🤧
Tagging @nekxrizawa because sis wanted to get in on this discussion.
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aura-elustri-malrei · 4 years
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Speculation about vowels
I’ve been thinking a lot today about potential vowel pronunciation in Aurënfaie. 
As far as I can tell, Aurënfaie is first and foremost a conlang that is intended to be read by native English speakers. If you read an Aurënfaie word aloud as you would an English one, chances are you won’t be that far off the mark. This in and of itself is not a bad thing - were it a conlang for conlanging’s sake, it might be considered a negative, but this is a fantasy novel with an English-speaking readership, and Aurënfaie absolutely fulfils its purpose of fleshing out the world and making it seem more alive, and especially of making Aurënen feel alive and more different to the more familiar Skala.
With that out the way, let’s get down to what canon gives us. More under the cut!
In terms of its writing in English, we have 17 ways of writing vowels in Aurënfaie: a, á, ä, â, e, é, ë, i, í, o, ó, ö, ô, u, ú, ü and y. This is a lot. For a comparison, English has (IIRC) around 12~14 (or maybe more?) depending on dialect, and German has about the same, and these are both considered pretty big vowel inventories. Japanese only has five, and some languages have as little as three. So my first thought was something like, “no way, are you telling me all these vowels are pronounced differently? Are the diacritics just meant to look cool?!” But I think I may have found the answer.
Big big disclaimer: I don’t know Ancient Greek well, but I do know that Lynn Flewelling has studied it, and that Aurënfaie is partially based on it.
Acute and circumflex
In some languages, like German, diacritics, or accents, indicate a sound change. Today I happened upon information about diacritics in Greek which used to be used to indicate pitch accent. This is a system where some syllables in words are emphasised by saying them in a different pitch, much like Japanese today. This would already be pretty useful, but what’s super extra useful is that two of the accents used - the acute and circumflex - are also used in Aurënfaie!
The acute accent is used in Ebrahä Rabás (Traitor’s Moon), and in Ancient Greek this is used to indicate a higher-pitch if the syllable is short or a rising pitch if the syllable is long.
The circumflex accent is used in Bôkthersa, and indicates a high and then falling pitch in the same syllable, but only appeared in long vowels and diphthongs.
Ancient Greek also uses a grave accent to indicate a low or neutral tone, but Aurënfaie doesn’t have this accent.
Originally I was toying with the idea of acute accent being another way of writing long vowels, but I really think it might be the case that Aurënfaie is a pitch accented language. This puts our vowel count to a slightly more friendly nine!
Diaeresis
The final diacritic is the diaeresis ö ä ü, or the umlaut in some languages. My experience with this accent is with German, where it indicates a sound change (such as u /u/ to ü /y/), but there is also another use. In some languages, (including Greek!) the use of the diaeresis on a vowel tells you that the vowel is not part of a diphthong, but should be pronounced as its own syllable. This is present in some words of English, such as “naïve”, or the names “Chloë” or “Zoë”.
Sorted! ...Right? Ah, well, this accent appears in Aurënfaie words which only have one vowel, like dös (”Agrai methiri dös prakra”), so it’s pretty obviously not part of a diphthong. So, what does it do? No idea. But I’ll look into other options! I don’t think it’s sound change, because then we might find vowels with the grave stacked on top of a diaeresis. For now, I’m going to assume that the accent indicates some other realisation of our main five vowels.
What about the double letters?
Ah, those. Words with consecutive iterations of the same letter in Aurënfaie include soori, the clan name Lhaar, and the place name Rhíminee. According to the Flewelling Pronunciation Guide, these are “SOOR-ee”, “lahr”, and “RIM-in-nee” respectively.
The first two are pretty easy: they’re probably long vowels. From this, we can assume that doubling a vowel makes it longer, and that this distinction might be phonemic (or, speakers of the language perceive a different in meaning depending on whether it’s long or short). However, the given pronunciation of “RIM-in-nee” (maybe /ˈɹɪm.ɪn.iː/) doesn’t work with this - “ee” would be a longer version of “e”, with this system.
This probably comes about as a result of English spelling. English underwent something called the Great Vowel Shift, where many vowels changed over a period of time, and spelling often hasn’t changed with it. The change relevant here is the one that occured in the word “meet” - as the spelling might suggest, it was originally pronounced with the vowel /eː/, but is now /iː/, which is the exact kind of pronunciation and spelling combination we see in Rhíminee.
To reconcile this, it could be the case that a similar sound change happened in Aurënfaie. My personal headcanon is that maybe the Skalan pronunciation of the city diverged, and /eː/ became /iː/, but mainland Aurënfaie kept the original pronunciation, but that’s all speculation.
And all that’s left is... y
In English, the letter “y” can be realised as both the consonant /y/, like in “yellow” and as a vowel, which can be pronounced several ways. It’s the monophthong /i/ in “happy” and the diphthong /aɪ/ in “try”. Aurënfaie might do something similar. According to the Flewelling Pronunciation Guide, chyptaulos is pronounced as “chip-TAU-los”, which would be either /t͡ʃɪpˈtau̯.lɔs/ or /t͡ʃɪpˈtoː.lɔs/ in my accent, depending on what you think “TAU” is. (This is where you start to see the benefit of providing IPA...). Either way, that makes “y” the /ɪ/ sound in “trip” or “did”. And okay, this checks out for ysanti bëk kir or yri nala molkrat vy pri nala estin. But hold up... Nyal’s name is pronounced like “nye-AL”, not “nee-AL”! I’ve only seen this used in names, though, so you could play around with the idea of it being an archaic spelling that’s only used in names, or something like that.
The results?
With the accents performing pitch duties (in the case of the acute and grave), the diaeresis maybe doing something similar, and “y” acting as more or less an alternate spelling of /i/, that brings us down to a nice phonemic five vowels (a, i, u, e, o), with maybe some more as allphones. How exactly you pronounce these vowels likely depends on your accent and where they are in the word.
Further plans
I apologise for my updates being incredibly sporadic. As much as this is a passion project of mine, my own conlang gives me a lot more power over what I can do with the language :D I’m also pretty busy lately.
The next post I do will probably be about consonants, which, thank fuck, are much less variable. However, I do have to deal with the question of “does the “h” after the “k” in “kh” change the pronunciation? And why would it?” I would also need to do one about diphthongs, as this post only covers monophthongs.
I’d also like to do a post about the different sources I use for the actual Aurënfaie corpus and pronunciation.
If anyone out there has read this far and has any comments, corrections or other opinons, please let me know! I only have one perspective, after all. This also applies if anything I have said isn’t clear - I want this to be understandble, even if you don’t know lots about linguistics.
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bensboynton · 5 years
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Good Enough b.h; Part 1
Requested: no
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: swearing, unedited. 
“Will I ever be good enough for anyone?”
“You’ve been good enough for me since the beginning.”
In which a singer tries her hand at acting, and ends up with a lot more than she bargained for. 
A/N: this is my first attempt at a longer fic, forgive me if anything is inaccurate/grammar mistakes/mistakes in general it’s 1 am and i haven’t slept in the past 28 hours and i just wanted to get this up.  – “You got the part.”
“What? Wait, is this a joke? Are you serious right now?” your lungs didn’t seem nearly big enough, as you desperately gasped for air. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.
“I’m completely serious! You landed the role. You’re Mary Austin. How does it feel to be able to say that? You’re Mary fucking Austin.”
Your heart was pounding in the chest as you were on the phone with your manager, Anthony. This was it. This was your big break in the industry. You just landed the role of the woman who stole Freddie Mercury’s heart.
You had been wildly successful in the music industry for almost five years, as you were about twenty-two shows away from finishing your second world tour for your sophomore album. And while writing music, performing said music, wrapping your tongue around unfamiliar languages and your mind around foreign cultures satisfied you, you always yearned for more. And that’s what led you to acting.
At first, it was an idea you had late at night. “What if I started to act?” But you shot the idea down yourself. You convinced yourself it’d be a distraction. Your manager would never say yes, it’d be too much work for you to handle, you wouldn’t be good at it. Not to mention the extra stress that would’ve been added to your already quite strained schedule. And on top of that, most singers never made it in the acting industry. But once the seed of this idea was planted in your brain, it began to grow. It soon became all you could think about. So, after a few extremely long phone calls with your manager and a few meetings in the city, you managed to set up your first audition. And the rest is history.
At first, you did a few commercials for some popular brands. Some advertising videos, skits for Facebook and Instagram, a few small parts in tv shows and smaller movies here and there, but nothing too major. However, when you heard a murmur through the grapevine about the part of Mary Austin in a biopic about Queen? For a lack of a better way to describe your emotions, you just about shit your pants.
Queen has been one of your favorite bands your entire life(thanks to your father), and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Freddie Mercury and Queen were your heroes. Freddie was the main reason you decided to start writing music, and that beautiful man made you fall in love with the art of performance. You took inspiration from him in almost every single aspect of your life. You couldn’t just let an opportunity like this pass you by.
You had submitted an audition tape to the producers one day after a particularly tiring show in Belgium, following a two-week crash course with a dialect coach practicing your British accent. You quickly ran through a few lines of the emotionally extensive script, submitting your video a few moments later. And about four days following the submission of your video, you got a phone call from your manager telling you that you did, indeed, land the part. And you were ecstatic. You were even more elated when you received a similar phone call informing you who got the part of Freddie Mercury; one of your good friends, Rami Malek. You screeched so loud one of the people in the hotel room next to yours came over to ask if you were all right. But you were far better than just “all right.”
You had met Rami backstage before an interview you did with him on Jimmy Fallon’s show, and you two exchanged phone numbers and the rest was history. The both of you were best friends for a while; practically inseparable. The both of you were hanging out at least every other day before distance slowly caused you to drift apart. But a gap between you wouldn’t really be any interference since you’d be working on this movie together. Problem solved.
And so, after a few headaches and way, way too many phone calls(all of which were extremely unnecessary to you), you rearranged the final three shows of your tour to leave you right smack dab in the middle of London, right where you needed to be to begin filming this movie. Everything was beginning to fall into place. – You slowly stretched your arms up over your head, arching your back and cracking your neck. Today. Today was the day you finally got to begin shooting Bohemian Rhapsody.
You had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity. When you heard the news of your success at landing the role as Mary, time started to pass by as if it was in slow motion, and days started to drag on as you waited for shooting to begin. You could only reread the script so many times before it became so mind-numbing it made you sick to even look at it.
Throwing on a pair of jeans and a black turtleneck, you looked at yourself in the hotel mirror. The bags under your eyes were slightly apparent, and you made a note in your head to try and cover them up before leaving your room and checking out.
You grabbed your cellphone and unplugged it from its charger, typing in your passcode and pressing your boyfriend’s contact. The phone rang for a while, but no answer. Your heart sunk slightly at the sound of his voicemail.
“Hey, Y/BF/N. Just wanted to call and say hey before I head to set. I hope your tour is going well, I love you and can’t wait to see you. Talk to you later.”
You sighed gently as you hit the circular “end call” button and set your phone down. No more time for being sad over the strange lack of contact with your significant other. You had a movie to film.  
You checked over your room quickly, just to be sure you had packed everything. After all, having all of your clothes would be imperative for the lengthy stay in your new trailer.
Hearing the news that you got to live in your very own trailer while on set was weirdly exciting for you. It felt like a rite of passage, almost like it validated your acting career in an odd way.
Wheeling your two extremely full suitcases behind you, and your backpack sitting gracefully on your shoulders, you slowly but surely made your way to the lobby of the hotel you were staying in. You swiftly checked yourself out and made your way to the notably empty parking lot. Made sense that it would be empty. After all, it was almost 5 am in London.
A black SUV was awaiting you near the doors, ready to take you to your new home for the next few months. Saying you were excited was an understatement.
Making small talk with your chauffeur for the morning, Todd, you admired his thick British accent. You appreciated his unique pronunciation of the words you knew and the few pieces of British slang that were unfamiliar to your remarkably American brain. Hopefully you’d start picking up on those sooner or later. You pretended to be mildly interested in Todd’s ranting about his three children as you lazily twisted your hair around your index finger, head rested against the tinted window. But to be honest, your mind was elsewhere.
You began nervously biting at your already extremely bitten nails as you neared closer and closer to the filming location, thoughts beginning to race through your mind. What if the cast didn’t like you? What if you embarrassed yourself? What if you suddenly forgot all your lines? What if you were so bad at acting they fired you on the spot?
Your worrying was cut short as the short and stout driver with grey stubble pulls onto a gravel road, pulling up to a security gate. He rolls down the window and tells the woman standing in the tiny concrete building to the left of the car something about dropping you off, but you aren’t paying much attention. You’re too busy watching the busy hustle and bustle up ahead, of tons of people with jobs and places to be and things to do. It seems as if everyone is running out of time, due to the quick pace that they’re all walking. The driver pulls up to an average sized building with two very heavy duty black doors.
“I’ll drop you off here, and then I’ll run your bags to your trailer if that’s all right with you Miss Y/L/N.” Todd’s voice snaps you back to reality. “Yes, that sounds great. Thank you, Todd.” he nods as you slowly clamber out of the car, adjusting your purse on your shoulder and walking into the building. You can feel your heart beginning to speed up its rhythm in your chest.
You walk up to the shiny black desk in front of you, about to ask the friendly looking receptionist where you’re needed before an enthusiastic voice echoes through the lobby.
“Y/N!” you turn around to see none other than Rami Malek standing before you. You grin as you run straight into him, your chin resting on his shoulder and your arms wrapped around his neck. You pull away as he gives you a quick peck on the cheek. “Long time no see, ay?” you hum, looking at the familiar man as he grins and looks down at his shoes. You admire the small crinkles in the corners of his eyes. Oh, how you missed him.
“You know, I almost cried when I heard you got the part.” He spoke with an eloquence unmatched by anyone you had ever met before. His voice sent shivers down your spine. “And why was that?” you inquired, as he slowly brought his eyes back up to meet yours.
“Because I knew I couldn’t do it with anybody else. It needed to be you. I just had this feeling, you know? And with our friendship, I knew our chemistry would be good. I was just really excited.”
You felt heat rise to your cheeks, as you tucked a piece of your soft hair behind your ear. It was strange, with Rami. You hadn’t heard from him in months, yet the conversation flowed with ease, almost as if you last talked two days ago.
“You should’ve heard me when I found out you were Freddie.” Rami cocked an eyebrow at your statement as he offers his left arm. You accept his invitation, interlocking your right arm with his as you start walking alongside him, “I was screaming bloody murder. The hotel sent someone from the front desk up to check on me,” Rami let out a loud chuckle, shaking his head as he glanced at you, a twinkle in his bulbous orbs.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel something for Rami when you first met him. I mean, who could blame you? A fashion-conscious, well spoken, educated man? In this economy? A rare occurrence, at best.  You started to fall for him when your friendship was at its peak, but it just doesn’t feel the same now. Besides, you now have a loving boyfriend, and Rami has an absolutely beautiful girlfriend. No need to “mingle” with any of your castmates.
You continued your walk down a particularly long hallway with locked arms in silence. But, it was a comfortable silence. That was your favorite thing about Rami. No matter what, he always made you feel at ease. You finally reached a certain door that Rami stopped at, taking a deep breath and looking at you.
“Ready to meet the rest of the band?” you nodded quickly, trying to gather yourself to make the best first impression you could. It was almost as if Rami could sense your nerves.
He gave your arm a comforting squeeze, a slight grin causing the left corner of his mouth to curve upwards into a smile. As you said, he was always able to calm you down. He pushed the door open, and it was almost as if the sound erupting from the tiny room slapped you across the face. Rami grinned at you sheepishly, an apology already bubbling at his lips before you walked swiftly into the room.
“Guys, can you all shut your traps for two goddamn seconds and meet Y/N?” Rami’s voice carried, and suddenly the volume level in the room decreased dramatically. Three unfamiliar eyes were suddenly trained on you, and you sent them a nervous smile, tucking your long hair behind your ear, twisting it around your index finger. This was something you tended to do when you were nervous.
 A particularly tall man started walking toward you, a big smile on his elongated face. You imagined him with a mop of curly hair, and immediately knew that this must be the man playing none other than Brian May. 
“You must be Gwilym, right?” you smiled, reaching out to shake his abnormally large hand, “I’m Y/N.”
“Amazing to finally meet you, Y/N. Rami has told us loads about you.” you smiled up at him, as you were about 6 inches shorter than his towering figure. He made small talk with you, asking about your flight to London and if you had any trouble arriving on set. 
“Oh. My. God. It’s you. It’s really you. I’m in a room with THE Y/N. Wow. I might pass out. Am I dreaming?” a man with curly hair joked, his thick sarcasm lacing his words as he turned to the man next to him. “Pinch me. Wake me up from this dream. It’s too good to be true.” you laughed, shaking your head as you looked up to meet his eyes as he started walking towards you. You curled your finger around a strand of hair as the stranger walked towards you. 
“And you must be Joe!” you held out your hand, only to be engulfed in the slightly taller man’s arms. “You’re my new best friend, and best friends don’t shake hands. We hug.”
And although Joe was joking, you clung to his words for a few seconds. It warmed your heart to think that he was already so accepting of you. “This is my other best friend, Allen. Sorry new bestie, you’re going to have to share me. I have a lot of best friends. But there’s plenty of this,” he points at himself, “to go around. I promise.” you giggled, lightly hitting his forearm with the back of your hand. It’s actually quite insane how comfortable you felt around him already, despite you knowing him personally for approximately a minute and a half. You looked up, swiftly scanning the room to look for the final member of the main cast you haven’t had a chance to meet yet. Gwil must’ve seen you look around because he did the same thing. “Has Anyone seen Ben recently? Or did he sneak off for a smoke again?”
“He left about ten minutes ago. Either taking a really, really, nice shit or went to smoke. I’ll let your beautiful minds decide what you want to believe,” Joe’s comment left the entire room laughing lightly under their breath as they returned back to whatever they were doing before you had walked in. 
You had been sitting on the couch for about twenty minutes, talking to Joe and answering his many questions about your childhood, career, upcoming music, college and, strangely, what movie you would choose if you could only watch one for the rest of your life. You saw how he could potentially come off as nosy to a high-strung individual, but to you, he was just curious and always had a desire to learn more. You admired that about him, as you were very similar.
The door of the tiny room opened, and a man with fluffy, slightly untidy blonde hair briskly strolls into the room, slipping off the brown leather jacket snugly hugging his muscular shoulders. Your eyes followed him for a split second and it took everything in you to tear your eyes away from the Greek God that just waltzed into the room.
“There he is! My boyfriend. I missed you SO much.” Joe grasped his chest, motioning at the man to walk over. The mysterious man shook his head and let out a soft laugh, his head down as he typed furiously into his phone. You stood up quickly, smoothing out the front of your shirt. Joe gestured to you, and his eyes swept over you quickly, causing a small bout of butterflies to swarm through your empty stomach. You swore your heart was beating so loud, everyone in the room could hear it echoing in your chest. 
“You must be Ben. It’s really nice to meet you, I’m-” you began to introduce yourself to the unreasonably attractive man, holding your hand out before he interrupts you. “Y/N.”
“Y-Yeah that’s me.”
The way your name rolled off his tongue sent shivers down your spine. It caught you off guard. His green orbs that glimmered with a tinge of blue slowly met yours, and he smiled sheepishly, before breaking the eye contact and dropping your hand. There was an awkward silence that fell between the two of you, even amidst the chatter of the room. Ben opened his mouth like he was about say something, before a familiar voice interrupted his train of thought.
“Hey hey hey, let’s not get too comfortable over there. That’s my boyfriend. Back off Y/N!” Joe spoke from across the room, sarcastic anger dripping from his mocking words. Ben rolled his eyes, mouthing a “sorry” to you before walking away from you, aimlessly making his way to the other side of the room.
You were left alone, and you rubbed the back of your neck with your right hand. It wasn’t normally like you to act so awkward and secluded around someone, especially someone you didn’t know. 
But, nevertheless, you could finally check one thing off your list of worries. The cast was absolutely amazing. Now all you needed to stress about was actually filming the movie.
But little did you know, that would soon become the very least of your worries.
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nprchives · 5 years
Video
Julia Wohl, RAD intern
I came across a clip from a September 1979 episode of All Things Considered featuring NPR reporter Steve Proffitt. He explores the mechanisms behind the computer-generated voice of the Speak & Spell, a device from Texas Instruments with synthetic speech capabilities that quizzes its user on their spelling ability. I thought Proffitt’s piece offered an opportunity to dissect how the TI team defined a “normal” voice, how the TI team’s choice resonates with news broadcasting pronunciation standards, and how these similar standards have a bearing on the present.  
The team of TI engineers is regarded as the first to implement speech synthesis capabilities into a small and affordable computational device. Within two years of the introduction of the Speak & Spell, both Bell Labs and Intel introduced similar devices that used digital signal processing. These advancements paved the way for smartphones and smart speakers. 
Gene Frantz, interviewed by Proffitt for the story, and his team of engineers found the broadcaster’s vocal tract to be a viable model for the Speak & Spell. Alice Helton, a linguist with whom TI engineers worked closely, chose the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language to govern the standard of pronunciation. Helton chose the voice, too. She recalled they decided to use the Dallas-area radio announcer Mitch Carr, who reported for NPR and is currently a radio broadcaster for KRLD in Texas. 
NPR journalists have continued to examine why and how the voices of news broadcasters and AI assistants alike reinforce ideas of how people in certain roles are supposed to sound. 
In a 2018 Code Switch episode, hosts Shereen Marisol Meraji and Gene Demby draw the same conclusion as Frantz: the meaning of “normal” is subjective. Meraji and Demby offer important context to the first formal academic definition of the “normal” American dialect. They explain that in 1924, linguist John Kenyon of Hiram College surveyed accents of the people surrounding him and developed a set of pronunciation standards. Kenyon published his standards in dictionary form in 1944, and by 1951 the National Broadcasting Company (now NBC) had adopted it to guide their news broadcasters towards clarity in their communication. A regional standard for communication became a national one. 
The multitude of dialects spoken, heard and understood across the nation complicates Kenyon’s and NBC’s standards for clear communication. Speakers and listeners, including machines that are programmed to detect a voice and emit one, perceive specific dialects as more normal and clearer than others for a number of reasons. Sometimes, people’s accents or native language can impede their ability to communicate with each other, depending on who the speaker and listener are, and can result in discrimination. 
In the same 2018 Code Switch episode, Meraji and Demby interview an aspiring broadcast journalist from Baltimore named Deion Broxton. Listen to Broxton recall how he visited a speech therapist to adjust his accent, starting at 00:13:33.
In other instances, a listener’s perception depends on the gender of the speaker. The Speak & Spell’s male-sounding voice stands in contrast to today’s familiar chorus of female-sounding voices, which guide users on smartphones, smart speakers and public transit. 
I called Frantz to learn more about why the engineers chose the voice of a man and a news broadcaster in particular. He explained to me that higher frequency voices, or voices often associated with being female, went above a threshold the device could capture. Additionally, the higher the frequency that is sampled, the more storage required in the device. Confined by their budget, the initial device did not have sufficient storage capacity for a higher frequency voice. So engineers were forced to model a lower frequency voice, one generally associated with men, which would take up less storage space on the device.
As Scott Simon found in a 2011 radio essay, there are several other explanations for the decision to assign a female-sounding voice to a computer. Rebecca Zorach, director of the Social Media Project at the University of Chicago's Center for the Study of Gender and Sexuality shared with CNN, “Most such decisions are probably the result of market research, so they may be reflecting gender stereotypes that already exist in the general public.” 
Robert LoCascio, a leader of the Equal AI initiative, offered an alternative explanation to NPR’s Laura Sydell in 2018. He told her, “The male-dominated AI industry brings its own unconscious bias to the decision of what gender to make a virtual assistant.” 
Since 1979, computer-generated speech has transformed from the glitchy and grating to the welcoming and warm. The techniques to approximate human inflection and intonation with computers have advanced and voice-assistive devices have proliferated. Despite these innovations, digital technologies have retained the vestiges of traditional gender roles and a specific type of pronunciation. 
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pengiesama · 5 years
Text
Me and My Penpal (Fic, TGCF+Okami, Gen+HC/XL)
Title: Me and My Penpal Series: Heavenly Official’s Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu) + Okami Pairing: Gen (...but also Hua Cheng/Xie Lian)
Summary:
Xie Lian finds himself hosting a pair of displaced foreign guests for the afternoon, and does his best to prevent an international incident.
(Or, two fallen gods who like swords, calligraphy, and performing petty mortal errands walk into a bar...)
Link: AO3
Check out my commission info here.
Read on Tumblr!
It wasn’t necessarily a rare thing for Xie Lian to have guests calling on his little Puji Shrine. The villagers came regularly, to leave offerings, or to ask for advice or help in the fields. It wasn’t even a rare thing to have non-human guests. San Lang visited regularly, and insisted on helping around the place even over Xie Lian’s protests; Shi Qing Xuan would flit in and out, with the long-suffering Earthmaster in tow more often than not.
The snow-white coat and red markings on the canine guest waiting outside his shrine were distinctive enough, but the intelligence in the creature’s gaze immediately told Xie Lian that this, indeed, was not simply a wandering stray. Plus, most wandering strays didn’t take such a keen interest in the sign he’d written, leaning against the temple wall. Nor did they have a giant sword strapped to their backs.
A spirit dog, perhaps? Xie Lian was hardly familiar with the extended entourage of the current residents of Heaven, and tried to recall if he’d heard about any of them favoring dogs as messengers. Sword dogs. A dog with a sword. What a splendid concept, Xie Lian thought, as he hiked his way up to the shrine with the day’s scrap findings on his back. Perhaps, someday, if I have worshippers enough, I’ll look into a sword dog or two.
He approached his visitor and bowed respectfully.
“Hello,” Xie Lian greeted. “Welcome to my shrine. Please, forgive the state of the place. May I ask who sent you?”
Before his guest could properly speak, a tiny glowing green sprite bounced out of their fur, squawking at the top of its tiny lungs. Xie Lian blinked, slowly.
Oh dear. He was getting used to entertaining guests, but…
…Foreign guests, though…
<< Ah…welcome to my shrine, >> Xie Lian began again, slowly. The sprite only squawked louder, as if an increase in volume could make Xie Lian understand any better. Oh, gracious, his Wa dialect was very rusty. The last time he’d had to use it was when he’d been blown out to sea and got picked up by foreign fishermen, and this sprite was speaking-slash-shouting in an accent that he simply could not parse. << May I…ask as to whomst…sent… >>
His canine guest suddenly snapped up the sprite in their jaws, swished the sprite around in their mouth for a moment or two, and then spat it onto the grass. The sprite landed with a wet splat, and laid there, still and quiet.
“Excuse that assistant’s mouth,” said the canine. “And please also my manners. We are presently finding ourselves across the sea?”
Xie Lian breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes. Welcome, travelers. I don’t suppose I could trouble you to continue in this dialect?”
“Of course,” said the canine. “It has been some extended time since a chance to practice the tongue of it. Also, its writing. And yours! Exceptional. I admired when you approached.”
A passion for calligraphy and an eye for swords! Oh, Xie Lian just had to chat more with this guest of his. But first, there was the matter of a proper introduction.
“My name is Xie Lian,” he said, bowing to his guest. “Welcome to my Puji Shrine.”
His guest bowed back on their two front paws. “My name is Amaterasu. Of Wa. And that—”, with a gesture towards the fallen sprite, “That is Issun. Also of Wa.”
The sprite, Issun, grumbled out something weak and wholly incomprehensible. Amaterasu sniffed dismissively, and gave a curt reply.
<< Now you know how it feels. >>
 --
 Xie Lian learned much more about his guests over tea. The Lady Amaterasu was much like himself – a wandering god, performing miracles and heroics and petty errands in exchange for the faith of mortals. Xie Lian felt abashed that he initially mistook her for a spirit creature, but she assured him that it could not be helped. Her divine aura was barely a flicker; hardly visible due to her distance from the scant few believers she could boast.
The situation in Wa seemed dire: demons running rampant, blanketing the land and sea in evil. The vile creatures were utterly unchecked and unopposed; devouring maidens, slaughtering and impersonating priests, slaying royalty. In such a time, most mortals would be begging for the intervention of the gods – and yet, over the years in the preceding era of peace, it seemed as though the people of Wa had forgotten them altogether.
(Xie Lian had also faced a few demons with a taste for virgin maidens in the past. Truthfully, they were some of the easiest targets to quell. All he needed to do was stuff himself into a dress and veil, and whimper and tremble convincingly while they cackled and slobbered until they stalked into dive-kicking range. Lady Amaterasu’s methods seemed somewhat similar, though Xie Lian did make note of her additional exploitation of the beast’s alcoholic vices.)
Lady Amaterasu and her overly loud associate had been pursuing a creature that was terrorizing a local fishing town, and it had attempted to make an escape through a merfolk portal. They gave chase, and upon surfacing, found themselves transported rather farther away than they had anticipated. After wandering around in an attempt to get their bearings and pick up on the trail of the escaped demon, Lady Amaterasu found herself utterly enchanted by the beautiful calligraphy outside of a humble little shrine, and despite the furious protestations of her assistant, had taken a moment or two to admire it. And that, of course, brought Xie Lian up to speed with things.
“I’m afraid I haven’t heard any word yet about the creature you’re describing,” Xie Lian said. “But it does raise my concern as well. A foreign demon may not know a strange territory enough to use it to its advantage, but who knows if our standard warding and protective practices will work the same ways on them? Humans may find themselves utterly defenseless.”
Lady Amaterasu nodded gravely, and refreshed the tip of her tail with ink. She and Xie Lian had been indulging in a lovely little diversion as they drank tea and discussed matters; Xie Lian would say a phrase, and Lady Amaterasu would write it out to confirm and refresh her comprehension.
Her dialect was improving, but her writing needed no such assistance – the table in front of them was stacked with paper, inked with beautifully-wrought lines. Even phrases that she had misunderstood were rendered into art. And all with such a unique technique! It almost made Xie Lian envious, to always have such a splendid brush physically attached to one’s person. He wondered if he could approximate it with his own hair. If he just braided a lock of it tightly, like San Lang’s…
A growl from Lady Amaterasu shocked Xie Lian out of his reverie. She rose from her seat at the table, slowly.
“Lady Amaterasu? Did you catch the creature’s scent?”
“No. Another,” she said, low. “Another scent. Overwhelming evil. Reeking.”
The fur about her neck was raised, and her lips curled back to bare her gleaming sharp teeth – now resembling more of a wolf than a dog. Her gaze was locked on the shrine’s entrance.
Ruoye was agitated by the bestial sounds from their guest, and slithered about Xie Lian’s limbs anxiously. Xie Lian tried to soothe him, just as he tried to sense this – overwhelming evil presence that had so frazzled his guest.
“I don’t sense anything,” Xie Lian said, worried. “Perhaps it’s another creature from Wa? I may not be able to detect it so easily if—”
Lady Amaterasu sneezed once, twice; then pawed at her snout in frustration. “Smells! So strong. Reeking of – sickly sickly sweet. Flowers and blood.”
Xie Lian blinked, then his cheeks burned red. “Ah, um – that’s probably just…Lady Amaterasu, please come sit down, you needn’t worry, just—”
There was a knock at the door, and the sound of a warm voice that made Xie Lian’s heart skip.
“Gege, are you in today? May this San Lang trouble your hospitality?”
Hearing this polite, friendly greeting seemed to be the breaking point for Lady Amaterasu, and she lunged for the door as it creaked open; in a flurry of teeth and claws and sword. In a panic, Xie Lian sent out Ruoye to lasso her back from her attack. Before Ruoye could land, Hua Cheng had phased behind the Lady Amaterasu, and had her held firmly by the scruff. His eyebrow quirked up as he watched her thrash in midair. Thwarted of his mission to lasso one guest, Ruoye took the opportunity to wrap himself around Hua Cheng’s waist instead, wriggling into place before squeezing tightly. Despite the situation, Xie Lian couldn’t help but admire the way Ruoye’s cinch accentuated Hua Cheng’s already handsome figure; drawing attention to his trim waist and narrow hips. Hua Cheng could make anything look dazzling and dashing, and made the plain strip of silk look like the finest and most fashionable of sashes.
After a moment, Xie Lian realized Hua Cheng was looking at him, waiting for an explanation. Flustered, Xie Lian hurried forward to intervene.
“Please, San Lang, she’s – she’s a foreign dignitary, we need to treat her with respect—”
Hua Cheng idly flicked away Issun as he leapt up in his face, squawking and bouncing angrily. Issun landed with a clatter somewhere in Xie Lian’s scrap pile.
“Oh?” Hua Cheng said, still not sparing any of their guests so much as a glance, still utterly disinterested in the furious wolf that he was holding scruffed like a naughty puppy. “Gege is hosting foreign guests? How exciting – to what do we owe them coming to call? Paying their respect? Coming to admire the local scenery?”
A rosary of spiritual beads lashed out like a whip from Lady Amaterasu’s back, and tried to wrap around Hua Cheng. Furious at the encroachment on his new claim, Ruoye reared his body up like a striking snake, and tangled with the beads in heated battle. Hua Cheng’s fashionable new belt was now mobile, swirling around his waist like a dancer’s sash.
“Um,” Xie Lian said. “Well. They’re here on…business? The Lady Amaterasu is a god of Wa, and she and her sprite assistant found themselves transported here while in pursuit of a fleeing demon target…”
An idea crossed Xie Lian’s mind. When it came to the matter of intelligence-gathering, particularly regarding demon matters, there were none who could compare to Hua Cheng. But would even Hua Cheng know how to handle a demon of Wa…?
“I don’t suppose – if it wouldn’t trouble San Lang,” Xie Lian began. “Would he happen to know about the habits of Wa demons? And how to best quell them?”
At Xie Lian’s request, Hua Cheng left Lady Amaterasu suspended in mid-air, and moved to the front door of the shrine. He gave Xie Lian a mischievous little smile. Xie Lian’s heart flipped at the sight.
“The habits of Wa demons seem to tend towards card games, rather than games of dice.” Hua Cheng opened the door, and a strange-looking fish-demon was shoved through the other side by host of ghostly hands. The array linking the shrine and Ghost City crackled, then dissipated, allowing the village’s peaceful scenery to come back into view. “But regarding the subject of quelling, it’s all the usual. A single tap from gege’s fist, a nudge from his foot. It would of course be no trouble for this one to see to it if gege wishes to continue entertaining his guests.”
The fish demon tried to scramble to its feet, only to be firmly and violently pinned to the floor with Hua Cheng’s heeled boot on its neck.
Xie Lian beamed. “Oh, I just knew San Lang would be able to help us! But was that demon causing you trouble in the gambling house? I would hate to hear that honest patrons’ games were being interrupted.”
“Honest patrons?” Hua Cheng chuckled. “Hardly any of the sort. In any event: trouble, no, but nuisance, yes. We see Wa guests on occasion, but most of them are less obvious when cheating.”
“Well,” Xie Lian hemmed. “I’m still sorry about the bother. It seems San Lang is always getting caught up in my difficulties.”
Difficulties, among other things. Ruoye and the bead strand were hopelessly entangled now, around Hua Cheng’s waist. Fretfully, Xie Lian stepped forward to start working Ruoye out of his knots. Hua Cheng’s voice was so warm and deep, and close to Xie Lian’s ear.
“There is no place I’d rather be, your highness.”
“May I be please placed down,” said Lady Amaterasu, who had long since calmed down, it seemed. An upturned bowl scooted along the shrine’s floor, and angry muffled noises came from beneath it.
Xie Lian jumped. So rude, so rude, to be neglecting one guest for another! He yanked a bit too hard on a knot, and Ruoye jerked at the ungentle touch, squeezing tighter. Hua Cheng grunted at the pinch, but otherwise made no complaint.
“While I’m familiar with the Wa dialect and would be happy to mediate, would gege like me to cast a translation spell?” Hua Cheng asked. “To ease your guest’s difficulties, and prevent further confusion in who is deserving of her wrath.”
Xie Lian felt his cheeks color. Oh, he was always so much trouble to San Lang… “Y-yes, please. If it’s not too much strain, it would be wonderful for us all to chat.”
There were many ways to cast translation spells. This was one of them: Hua Cheng leaned in, and blew a warm puff of air against Xie Lian’s ear. Energy shivered down Xie Lian’s spine. Hua Cheng’s index finger came up to press on Xie Lian’s mouth, tracing the seam of his lips and leaving a tingle of energy as it passed. As the spell took effect, Xie Lian could begin to understand the noise coming from underneath the bowl…
“—dunked in a pool and then dunked in your spit, furball! And then flicked across the room! And then stuck under this bowl! Ignored and forgotten! Is this how they treat their guests here!? Oh, to be back in the tender, heaving canyon of Sakuya’s chest…and that’s another thing! This place is a total sausage-fest, where’s all the dang BABES—”
…regarding the matter of understanding Issun’s chatter, Xie Lian perhaps would have preferred to continue living in blissful ignorance.
“Issun,” Lady Amaterasu said drily. “After undertaking a fascinating magical rite, our guests are able to understand you now.”
Hua Cheng disengaged his hold on Lady Amaterasu without as much as another word. Despite the sudden drop, she landed with grace, and shook herself out to set her ruffled coat back into place. The bowl imprisoning Issun was nudged over as if by the poke of a phantom brush, and out he came, bouncing and cussing. Xie Lian finally managed to untie Ruoye, and – with one last threatening posture at the enemy beads – Ruoye scurried back up Xie Lian’s sleeves. Hua Cheng’s waist was freed, and while he was of course no less handsome, Xie Lian was a bit wistful at the memory of the cinch.
“I’m…I’m so sorry for the confusion, everyone,” Xie Lian finally managed. He clasped his hands and bowed to each guest – to Lady Amaterasu, to San Lang, to Issun. “Lady Amaterasu, San Lang is – Hua Cheng is the ruler of the Ghost City; he is a friend of mine and I promise you he means no harm.”
Lady Amaterasu’s left ear twitched at the word “friend”, but she simply replied with a mild noise. “Hrm. And I suppose he means to surrender my wayward prey with no strings attached?”
Hua Cheng gave her an entirely pleasant, entirely fake smile. “Of course. For gege’s honored guest, consider it on the house. Although…”
He lifted his boot, inspecting the gory viscera dripping from the spiked heel, and the very definitively dead demon whose neck had been punctured.
“…I’m afraid I accidentally damaged it. Terribly sorry, if you were looking forward to sparring with it some more.”
“Whaddya mean by that!?” snapped Issun. “You think we were just playing with that thing!? We fought it across hill and dale and magical water portal; we tired it out for you!!”
Lady Amaterasu huffed through her nose, and her tail twitched on the ground; moving as if to trace a spell, before stopping and stilling.
“A dead demon’s a dead demon,” she said simply. “Now if you’ll excuse us, Lord Xie Lian and I were discussing calligraphy over tea—”
Hua Cheng cleaned up the fish demon’s corpse and the mess on the shrine’s floor with a wave of his hand, and he settled at the table with another wide smile. He leaned his head on his hand, and patted the spot next to him.
“Sounds fascinating, count me in.”
“Oh yeah!? Well, I’ll count YOU in!” retorted Issun, nonsensically.
“Lord Xie Lian,” Lady Amaterasu said to Xie Lian in a hushed whisper. “We’ve only known each other for a short time and I am aware that I am hardly in a place to criticize another’s choice of company. But are you quite sure that this…Hua Cheng is trustworthy?”
“Quite sure,” Xie Lian said, with total confidence. “Please, Lady Amaterasu, I’m certain you’ll find him just as charming once we’ve sat to chat a bit.”
Lady Amaterasu’s left ear twitched again.
However, before Xie Lian could sit to continue entertaining his guests, there came a knock at the door, and a cheerful, familiar greeting.
“Your highness—! Ming-Xiong and I are here to visit! You around?”
Xie Lian had never been so grateful for an unexpected visit from Shi Qing Xuan. Surely, at least the walking comedy routine that came with hosting the Windmaster and Earthmaster would distract from the tension in the room. He hurried to welcome them in.
As was normal for their outings together, Shi Qing Xuan was in female form, and had bothered-bullied Ming Yi into matching. Quite unfortunately, this appeared to pique Issun’s interest.
“Finally! A pair of lovely ladies! And one of whom is PACKING a pair of lovely ladies!! Ni hao, baby, Issun’s here!!”
With that, Issun lunged to try and dive down the collar of Shi Qing Xuan’s robes. Thankfully, he was thwarted – thwarted directly into a wall, by the swing of a shovel. He groaned, weakly.
“Don’t be…jealous…there’s plenty of…me to go around…”
Dragging the shovel along the floor behind him, Ming Yi stalked in to finish the job. Against his better judgement, Xie Lian stopped him, and gave an explanation of the day’s events to his latest visitors.
“Oh! I was wondering why I couldn’t understand anything that bug thing was screaming about!” Shi Qing Xuan grabbed Ming Yi by the shoulders and scooted them in close to peer at Issun’s battered body, keeping the shovel hoisted up as a shield. “But wow, I’ve never met someone from Wa…but it’s really true…”
Ming Yi didn’t even bother prodding Shi Qing Xuan to continue, knowing it’d happen anyway. Shi Qing Xuan shook him by the shoulders, eager to share the revelation.
“It’s really true! Wa people really are—” [1]
“The tea! The tea is cold!!” Xie Lian interrupted hastily, before Shi Qing Xuan fanned the flames of the ongoing international incident.
Guests, perhaps, were sometimes more trouble than they were worth.
 --
It was many years later that Xie Lian received a letter from Wa – a letter in elegant, beautiful script, cordially inviting Xie Lian (and guest) to visit the newly-restored Wa Celestial Plain. Hua Cheng insisted that Xie Lian take the deserved vacation, though also insisted on accompanying him – as if Xie Lian would ever willingly not have him at his side.
The Wa Celestial Plain was lovely, as expected, and Lady Amaterasu’s colleagues were welcoming and charmingly coordinated. Xie Lian wondered if he could get the gods of the Heavenly Realm to do an animal theme thing for the next Lantern Festival. This got him to thinking about Hua Cheng in fox ears and nine luxurious fluffy tails, with his robes open down to his navel, and kept him thinking about that for a while, so much so that he almost missed the Lady Amaterasu introducing a new face.
“Ushiwaka is from the moon,” Lady Amaterasu continued, “Which explains at least two or three things about him, but not everything.”
“Bonjour, mes chers!” said a strange-looking man with yellow hair. “Enchanté.”
Xie Lian blinked slowly.
San Lang, Xie Lian said into Hua Cheng’s communication array. Did the translation spell not catch that?
It caught it, replied Hua Cheng. I just don’t know what he’s saying, so it can’t properly parse it. Please accept this offering in reparation for this husband’s linguistic shortcomings.
Hua Cheng then started filling the communication array with lewd images of himself in fox cosplay. Xie Lian’s face burned, and he closed the array, but not really; keeping it open just at the corner of his mind, just…just in case he needed to talk to San Lang in private.
Yes, just in case.
--
[1] The Chinese referred to Japan as "Wa", and wrote it with the character 倭, meaning "short person; dwarf". Read more on Wiki. (You may recall this factoid from this well-known educational video on Japanese history.)
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Ktheju tokës and Ethnomusicological Tidbits
Hello Europals and all!
I made a remake for Jonida Maliqi’s song “Ktheju tokës” (words and music by Eriona Rushiti). I’ve loved the song for a long while, though I didn’t hear it until pretty deep into the national final season. In this entry, I wanted to point out a few things that I found to be most interesting about the original song and what I wanted to achieve with this remake!
Calls to Iso-Polyphony Tradition and Heritage
Albanian iso-polyphony has been inscribed on UNESCO’s Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity since 2008. Here is an introductory video giving examples of variations within this art form:
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In this video, two forms of iso-polyphony are discussed, split by Albanian dialect. The Tosk regions (the southern part) is known for a drone - a long held note - that is “always continuous and sung on the syllable ’e’, using staggered breathing”, according to the UNESCO site.
The use of this very ethnically salient art form suggests that this song oozes Albanian nationalism even outside the lyrical content, which urges the Albanian diaspora to return to Albania to fix issues within the state that have existed since even before the Hoxha Communist reign. (interview for source)
Changes in each revamp
Besides the final stage version of “Ktheju tokës” (3), two other versions were played in public - the original studio version of the song (1), available here, and the live version with orchestra, performed during the first night of the show as well as during the final, as shown here (2). While the final revamp did not come to be until about 3 months after the show’s end, the framework for the final revamp was already in the making. Among them are:
Strong percussive elements. In the first version, the idea for the opening verse was already established, though the mix was changed in the final mix. The interlude between the verse and chorus also originally had a busy programmed cymbal part that was removed in the final version. The transition back to regular drum patterns in the second half of the verse (after the mid-song instrumental following the chorus) was changed in the final version, but included the first part of the sliding bass and cymbal parts. More bass was added in the final version as well.
The chorus is the biggest change between the first version and each successive version. The first version copies the rhythm from the verses, while the other versions use a common rock rhythm. The biggest difference between these two rhythms is the focus of accents (and claps) on different parts of each repeating pattern. See the video below for a demonstration of the two different rhythms in question:
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Much music of non-black origin - among others, big bands and classical Western music - utilize this 1 and 3 clap rhythm. However, most popular music nowadays has borrowed from black culture (jazz, blues, rock ‘n roll) and does clap on 2 and 4. This is what the new rhythm does, and it drives the chorus more than the original rhythm does, even as Maliqi claps on 1 and 3 in a capella fashion during her press conference here. However, the kind of a cappella she was doing was more in line with classical and (white) folk music, which does focus on said beats.
Mix. From the beginning, there are differences between the two studio versions. (The live version will not be discussed as much due to the numerous differences between live and studio mixes.) Besides the slightly different drum sounds used and the repeated parts removed for time considerations, the revamped version markedly reduced reverb. Reverb is an effect which in conjunction with delay makes an audio signal sound like it is being played from some type of space - cathedrals, studios, halls, etc. Less reverb usage makes a signal sound more focused, which the revamped version does seem to be. The male belt voice in the choruses was not in the first versions of the song but was rather added in, and the chanted Clannad-like “Ktheju tokës” in the ending was mixed higher in the final version as well.
Everything in the previous versions, while still good, were even further refined in the final version, and it added to the overall effect of the song.
Dynamic contrasts
In all three versions, the beat after the lyric “shpresë” in both verses is accented in all instruments. Dynamic contrasts such as those played here play a role in creating drama in any musical contexts. Beyond the music, the dynamic (volume) level in the vocal parts - between head voice and a very throaty belt - also add to this drama, which fits the gravitas of the subject matter.
Articulations such as legato and rhythmic accents also add to this dynamic contrast. For example, the interlude between the full verse and first chorus was sung in a much more connected (legato) fashion, while the live and final versions used much more staccato (sharply detached singing, more or less), which is both harder to do and gives each note more emphasis by design. Similarly, the triplet accent in the bass and drums on the second “shpresë” really emphasizes their rhythms and the vocal rest right after the rhythms turn back to verse 1 rhythms along with the bass. The dynamic contrasts really add feeling in songs when used effectively and even give playback performances a livelier realization.
Polytonality
Ktheju tokës is in D# (D-sharp) minor throughout. However, there are several considerations when addressing minor keys, in particular when it comes to classical music and songs based off of a classical vocabulary. Each minor key has three forms - the natural form and two forms made to compensate for harmonic and melodic tendencies in the Common Practice style (think 18th-19th century classical music for greatest concentration of said style). The note right below the key note - in D# minor, the key note is D#, so the note right below is usually called D (C𝄪)* - leads up more strongly than the normal note C# (which is further away from the key note, also known as the tonic) and is called a leading tone in music theory parlance. The verse melody follows in this melodic minor pattern with the D (C𝄪), but the higher electronic loop that plays throughout the second verse fragment as well as the bass both play the C# found in natural minor. A similar effect is found in Jimi Hendrix’s Purple Haze, and the chord in question - 7#9 - has definite uses (see here for examples). However, this usually implies that the equivalent to the C# is higher in frequency than the equivalent to the D (C𝄪), and in this case, it is not. Therefore, this part in Maliqi’s song sounds far more unsettling and can be argued to be an example of polymodality.
Polytonality, as Adam Neely explains in the video below, is defined by the presence of two different sets of notes playing at the same time, which can be used for comedic or unsettling effect. Polymodality is a related but more specific concept, where the home notes of both sets are the same. In this case, both D# natural and harmonic (or melodic - hard to tell without a B note in the context) minors are used. (This is a slight simplification, as it is not necessary to dive further right now. I’ll talk about that a bit more when I have written another post about “Arcade”.)
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* in this case, the sound associated with the note D actually called C𝄪 (C-double sharp) due to each group of notes in a key having one of every letter A-G in some form. That’s a long discussion for another post, though, so I’ll try to keep it as simple as possible.
About the remake
I transcribed most of the song and was really struck by the pain and yearning for fellow countrymen to come back home, so I wanted to capture that feeling of mourning and some type of motherliness while also keeping to my classical roots. I found it harder to keep the polytonal sections, but instead reharmonized and used the instruments I was most familiar with. I did most of this on the road - working slowly on adding more real(istic) instruments (and vocals, and by golly, they’re difficult to sing) and can post here later.
Overall
This isn’t a typical pop song by any stretch of the imagination, and its very ethnically salient elements may contribute to its divisiveness outside the Albanian community. However, to the numerous Albanian diaspora scattered worldwide and to musicologists alike, it holds a lot of deep and fascinating elements that blend folk culture with modern touches, and a call to come back home.
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he’s too nice
summary: jimin tries to convince yoongi about hoseok
timeline: a week after hoseok and yoongi meet; a few days before yoongi meets "jhope"
words: 2718
also posted on ao3
“You’re too nice.”
The statement almost goes unnoticed, muffled by the cup pressed against the latter’s lips as he takes a sip. Yoongi cocks an eyebrow, his own clear cup of alcohol in his hand, the club’s speakers play a song with a booming bass, making it already hard to hear anything that wasn’t shouted within close proximity. As Yoongi continues to stare at the latter, (waiting for, truly, an undeserved explanation) Jimin doesn’t look at him in the eye, instead, his gaze focused towards the dance floor.
“Is that so?” Yoongi replies. He follows Jimin’s gaze and despite the sea of bodies already on the dance floor, he knew exactly where Jimin fixed his gaze on. Or, rather, he should say who. There’s a mix of colors, of bodies molding together, of the LED lights set above their heads, that Yoongi finds himself hypnotized with; a sight that seemed to slow down despite how fast everything else around him was. It was something that he could watch from the outside better than from the inside, because, he knew about the way the sweaty bodies moved along each other in their own dance, something that was almost impossible to escape once in the center of it.
There was a third seat on their table. Left empty earlier by the third party--Hoseok, who excused himself earlier to dance. A song that he stated he just couldn’t miss before scampering off onto the dancefloor without another word.
But with the way their third guest moved his body along the beat, how the sweat rolled down his temples. It clings onto his jaw and his upper lip--a sight that Yoongi would call barbaric and disgusting at most, but instead, he much enjoyed the sight before him. From where they sat, he could see the way the soft fabric he wore clung onto his torso and his back. His light hair messily clung onto his forehead, opposite to how it often were: full of volume with little curls. There were two girls that surrounded him, one at his front and the other on his back. The trio having fun right in front of him, faces distorted with unheard laughter and the thrill of possibilities after their dance. Lust, Yoongi thinks as he sees the women sandwich Hoseok between them, their hips grinding in a way that has Yoongi’s mouth go dry, is a flaw in human nature.
A hot flash of envy ran through his veins and he found himself drinking the rest of his whiskey without a second though. The burn in his throat makes him regret it for a split second, a cough rising from his throat.
“It’s too noticeable.” Jimin says, his gaze back on Yoongi. His drink is empty as well, abandoned on the table and waiting for one of the waitresses to pass by with a drink. Yoongi copies his action, placing his empty cup on the almost bare table. “Seokjin is going to realize. He isn’t stupid. He visits here too. Sometimes just alone, to watch.” Jimin is suddenly on his phone, typing something rapidly. “And you know that.”
“He only visits because of Taehyung’s cowardly--”
“Don’t.” Jimin’s tone is enough to silence Yoongi. A moment of silence blanket over the two as Jimin hides his phone again in his pocket. Taehyung’s antics were always a sensitive topic, especially for Jimin. It was foolish, as Yoongi saw it. He was more than willing to help, but Taehyung had pushed him away. A proud fool, the kid, and swore that he could do it all himself. No help needed, no favors owed, and so Yoongi backed off. He let Taehyung do what he needed, to face his own consequences. He has yet to see Taehyung in person since, but from what he hears from Jimin, the kid has been doing fine. Overworked, yes, both from having to handle the club and from whatever sort of jobs Seokjin ordered him. But, from Jimin’s words, he’s been doing fine.
A petite girl with the club’s uniform arrives with a bottle of whiskey, she’s cute, just a bit shorter than Yoongi is, all thanks to the red heels she adorned, her hair chopped short, ending just at her jawline. She seemed shy: the way her bangs covered just a bit of her eyes as well as the red tint on her cheeks. Yoongi is positive that it must’ve been the drinks, the alcohol, causing the red glow on her cheeks.
“Thank you, Hyoseon.” Jimin smiles as she pours the drink on their cups. She passes a shy smile back and Yoongi almost snickers. Innocence in such a building such as this--where the drinking and the overall fun that the outsiders had covered the filth and dirt that hid behind the scenes: the distribution of drugs from something as simple as weed to the more dangerous ones such as heroin, meth, cocaine, you name it (from yours truly), the use of drugs itself, down to prostitution. You name it. It will be here.
“Hyoseon was it?” Yoongi repeats, catching the waitress’ attention. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Min,” she’s smiling now, brighter than earlier. It’s a familiar smile, the way her lips are shaped and Yoongi can’t exactly place it but he finds himself smiling as well--genuinely.
“Hyoseon, I think there’s somebody else over there that needs a refill.” Jimin states, butting in between the two. His tone is serious and Yoongi can’t help but glare at him in response. Jimin copies his glare, one that softened once Hyoseon turned his way. “Go along.”
“Right boss.” She turns to Yoongi once more, bowing, before she leaves. “Have a good evening, Mr. Min.”
“Stop ignoring me.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re brushing off my advice.” He goes rigid in his seat. The hold on his cup clenched and Yoongi wouldn’t be surprised if it broke. Despite the soft, gentle appearance that Jimin held, with his pastel pink hair and his oversized sweaters--sweaters that Yoongi was sure were borrowed from Taehyung--and his bubbly laughter, underneath all that is a tough interior created by the harsh years he lived previous to this. “You of all people should know how Seokjin is.”
“He knows you don’t have the heart to hurt Namjoon. He knows that you won’t, even if you somehow found the heart to hurt him. Because he can come back even worse...There’s Jungkookie too--god, the kid doesn’t even know and he’s all tangled up in your mess. Now you’ll drag Hoseok hyung into this too?” He stumbled over his words, his mind running faster than his mouth could. It was a trait that was an extreme difference to how he usually were; calm and tactical. A murmur that urged everyone to step closer, just to hear him. It was like silk, wrapping around your body and without having realizing it, you’ve fallen. Captivating to the common, simple man. It worked well, considering his...business. He lets down his shield for just a moment, in front of Yoongi, and he’s grateful to be one of the few that Jimin trusts enough.
“Yoongi hyung. You cannot get Hoseokie hyung tangled in this mess.” It’s a plea, desperate as it seems, Yoongi understands why. Yet, he wants to remind Jimin that he was the one who was set on getting him and Hoseok together just a few days ago, but instead Yoongi keeps his mouth shut.
“I won’t. I’ll be careful.” He sighs, doing his best to placate the younger in front of him. Before he was able to continue his thought, Hoseok came back, his sudden appearance causing Yoongi to jump slightly on his chair. His smile is wide and it seemed like he just came back from a marathon. His white shirt was practically see through from the sweat and Yoongi felt his throat go dry at the sight. He was lean, his muscles underneath were subtle, but enough for one to appreciate.
“Those girls wouldn’t let me go.” He laughs, there are distinct lipstick stains on his neck, and one even on the corner of his lips. If he had known any less, Yoongi would have thought that Hoseok tried a little quickie while he was off on his own. “They really didn’t care when I told them I was gay...or maybe they just couldn’t hear me. One of the two.”
There’s a slur in his words, his natural Jeolla dialect rising from his Seoul accent. Yoongi can’t help but find it endearing, a smile desperately crawling up to his lips despite his will to keep a straight face. Hoseok plops down on his seat, rather messily, and still panting lightly. There’s a slight smile on his lips, just edging on the corner of his lips, as if he was trying to not smile so much. Jimin smiles at him regardless of the sour topic they were just discussing.
Jimin acted as if Yoongi would be able to control himself--his feelings--regarding this odd Jeolla boy that seemed to smile too much for his own good. It was something that he was able to control when he was away from Hoseok--telling himself that it was just curiosity, not genuine interest, but all that breaks when he finds himself face to face with the latter. He was sure that it’s similar to how Jimin feels towards Taehyung. It’s impossible to get rid of feelings that easily and dangerous for their own good; knowing the city they lived in.
Hoseok flashes a grin at Jimin’s way before he quickly turns and faces Yoongi, his head resting on his palm as he places his elbow on the table. He considered himself to be an expert on keeping walls around him. A talent that he possessed even as a child, as this whole business was familiar to him at an age his mother disapproved of. She had hoped to keep him pure for a longer time, with the help of his older brother, but that had failed, earlier than she imagined. Yet, despite all this, he finds his iron walls breaking down as Hoseok smiles at him, it’s so cheesy and obviously a drunken smile, yet Yoongi can’t help but smile back, genuinely, softly. He wants to reach over, to brush a strand of Hoseok’s hair back and away from his face, but Jimin’s advice echoes through his head. He clenches his fists instead.
“How’ve you been hyung? You always seem to visit the coffee shop I work at.” Hoseok begins and Yoongi immediately scoffs. He downs the rest of his drink before finally answering.
“Don’t flatter yourself Hoseok. I’ve been visiting that shop long before you even stepped foot in this city.”
“Ouch hyung, you didn’t have to be so mean.” The words seemed to lack any actual pain in them, as Hoseok continued to smile. “It’s nice to see you though.”
He smiles. A god damned smile that’s too fucking warm for Yoongi’s well being and he slowly feels the iron walls he’s tried so hard to keep up and to keep Hoseok away with being melted away from just the warmth radiating from Hoseok himself. Yoongi feels himself blush. The slow creep of warmth from his neck up to his cheeks and his ears and he resists the urge to bring his hands up to cool down his cheeks. He hears Jimin scoff, and the clink of the glass cup as he lifts it from the table, but his attention stays transfixed on Hoseok.
“Are you drunk Jung Hoseok?” Yoongi finally responds, when he regains his ability to talk, eyebrows cocking, feigning an obviously fake concerned tone. Hoseok laughs at the question, since all three of them already know the answer. He plays along though.
The three of them stay seated the rest of the night. It was nearly two in the morning when Yoongi decides that Hoseok should get going, to which Jimin seconded. He walks them out, the club began to die down a little as the minutes pass. There are less people on the dancefloor and more on the booths; drinking their livers out and Yoongi could spot a few that are already passed out on the leather cushions. Yoongi knows that they had to get Hoseok out now; more ‘funny’ business were bound to happen this late at night.
(Jimin prefers to shield Hoseok from this side of his club. He prefers Hoseok to stay as pure as he could.
As pure as one could be in a town like this.)
(Yoongi thought that it wasn’t possible. There was always the little bits of cracks in everybody. Their little imperfections. It was impossible for one to stay pure for long.)
Hoseok is between Jimin and Yoongi, using the two as supports. His legs felt like noodles, as he earlier told the two during their walk to the front. Jimin is giggling as Hoseok slurs his way through a story about his older sister--Jiwoo, from what Yoongi picked up from the story. It was something about him moving here, how she tried to help him pack. He couldn’t pick it up too well, with how slurred his words were, switching from Seoul dialect to his native Jeolla dialect, sometimes to a mix of both.
“Call him a cab,” Jimin orders Yoongi, once they leave the club. Jimin says his final farewell to Hoseok before he lets go and allows Yoongi to support Hoseok by himself. The queue outside has thinned out, he notices, but there are still a stubborn few that want a taste of this club for the night before going home. It’s chilly, granted how late it is, he shouldn’t be surprised, but he still is when a gust of wind causes goosebumps to rise and a shudder to run down his body. Hoseok whines as well, about how cold it is.
“Hoseok. Can you tell me your address?” Yoongi finally shifts his attention to the younger man beside him. Hoseok’s eyes are glassy, a bit tinted red, but overall, droopy. Sleepy. Drunk. He just smiles, mumbles what Yoongi guesses is supposed to be his address, but it all comes out as a jumbled, incoherent mess that Yoongi can’t even decipher if he tried. After a few more attempts, Yoongi gives up.
“We’re going to my house, okay Hoseok?” Hoseok hums in reply, his eyes are just about closed and Yoongi hopes that he doesn’t pass out here. “Seok, Seok. Hey, don’t fall asleep on me man.”
“‘M sorry hyung,” is the muffled reply he gets as Hoseok presses his face against Yoongi’s chest. Yoongi hails a taxi and ushers Hoseok in, who’s still somewhat in his half-asleep state as he plops down. Yoongi tells the taxi man his address before getting himself settled beside Hoseok. The ride feels longer than it should--his penthouse was only a few blocks away, a five minute drive at most--with Hoseok leaning his entire weight on Yoongi’s side. His arm flush against Yoongi’s and his head resting on his shoulder.
Hoseok still smells of the cheap perfume the two girls wore at the club, but still with a hint of his own cologne. He sighs, feeling Hoseok go limp beside him, falling into deep sleep as he lightly snores. There are little mumbles escaping his lips, cute and subtle, the words failing to reach his ears as they were drowned by the radio played by the taxi man. Yoongi finds himself smiling, despite the circumstances they are put in.
Just for one night, it was just him and Hoseok. Hidden safely in the back of the of the taxi cab, with the melody of the jazz song playing softly in the speakers surrounding the car. Yoongi wishes for time to stop outside, to freeze all together. Keeping this taxi ride going on forever, for eternity even. He laughs at himself instead, laughing at the silly thought. Beside him, Hoseok stirs slightly, shuffling a bit on his seat but otherwise keeps his head resting on Yoongi’s shoulder.
Yoongi lifts a hand, pushing a few strands of hair away from Hoseok’s face. Maybe--as Jimin eloquently stated it earlier this night--he really was too nice.
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phooll123 · 6 years
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One Night In Melbourne
BY
 Matthew Everingham
18TH MAY 2018  12 COMMENTS
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CHAPTERS
1. A Different City, A Different Scene
2. One Night Stand
3. One Short Night
Despite being just one of 7.6 billion people currently inhabiting our tiny, floating rock, we all come with the individual nuances that make us ‘special.’
The more I immerse myself in car culture away from home, the more I realize the same throw-away cliché applies to cities too. I’d recently found myself with a night devoid of plans in Melbourne, the closest capital city to Sydney, both geographically, and socially. Separated by only a nine hour drive, or a short one hour flight if you’re traveling lightly.
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Despite Melbourne’s relative proximity, I’d never really had a chance to check out its street scene first-hand. If I’m interstate, I’m usually busy. A few years ago I might have been satisfied discounting the scene in Melbourne to be identical to Sydney.
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But this isn’t a few years ago, this is now. As I alluded to in the opener, every city I’ve visited comes equipped with its own rulebook. A self-incubated mixture of cultures, philosophies and styles. Not too dissimilar to regional accents and dialects if we wanted to throw in an analogy for good measure.
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But would the differences be noticeable between two cities with so many other similarities and so much in common? Or will they be subtle enough to blend in with more of the same of what I’m used to?
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Curiosity bested me. It was time to find out. I put out the call for a last minute cruise with the help of a local Melbournian friend, Bez Black. You might recall the kickass video we worked on together during our last night in Tokyo.
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Neither of us was sure of what to expect given the extreme last minute nature of the call, but we ended up with what I’d like to think is a pretty good sample of what Sydney’s twin-sister has to offer.
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CHAPTER TWO
One Night Stand
Really, I’m not that kind of guy. But Melbourne, you seem so damn familiar. You’re not like all the other cities I visit, I swear. I feel like I already know you. Let’s find out if I do.
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Not long after arriving back at my hotel, I found myself riding shotgun in Bez’s satin black BMW X5M. The deep, satisfying burble of its 4.8-litre V8 engine through a custom exhaust was an effective pre-emptive measure against the long string of ‘Soccer Mum’ jokes I’d be saving up for the trip.
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Our first stop was a brief one, but one that’s a great teaser of things to look forward to. Somewhere along the freshly disassembled Formula One track at Albert Park, we briefly met up with a group of exotic and supercar owners. They already had plans but were keen to give Speedhunters a quick taste of ‘their Melbourne.’ With so many amazing open roads nearby, I have no doubt we’ll be crossing paths again in the future.
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Within half an hour, an eclectic mix of performance vehicles made their way to our meeting spot. The first thing I noticed as a Sydney-sider, was the randomness of the crowd.
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Usually, but not exclusively, a lot of Sydney crews are built around a particular model or performance niche. Tonight though, a veritable smorgasbord of cars rolled in together. Wide-body JDM imports parked alongside Aussie muscle cars, both modern and classical. Blown engines rolled in next to almost stock-blocks. Everyone seemed to appreciate the car parked next to theirs as much as their own.
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Three things seemed to unite the rag-tag crowd that Bez and I had wrangled up. We all love building cars, we all love driving, and thirdly, we all love pizza.
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A three-step masterplan hatched: We’d all get into the cars that we (except me) had built.
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We’d all drive across the beautiful city of Melbourne. A town that seems to have just a few more of its driving freedoms left. Freedoms that include a handful of spirited roads still in-play, unlike their less fortunate Sydney cousins.
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A drive that may or may not have included a detour or two to showcase a few of the cities last remaining ‘fun roads.’
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Finally, we’d all consume more pizza than was required. We were not the only crew to have such a plan, crashing an old-school Aussie muscle meet at the locally famous Pizza Société.
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Our Melbourne experience was brief, but it served as an excellent introduction to a brand new city; a city with an amazingly vibrant car culture.
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Melbourne, you’re worth more than a one night experience. I can’t wait to see you again. Is next weekend too soon? Can we meet at Motorex?
Matthew Everingham Instagram: matthew_everingham [email protected]
via Blogger https://ift.tt/2rT9dz4
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coexistxcoldrain · 4 years
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Soul Meets Body
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Title: Soul Meets Body (AO3 Link, please visit! :) ) Author: yaoionshavedice / hesonlytiny Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut Ship: Masato/Colin; MasaHiro Words: ~30.000 Summary: “Don’t worry, no need to pay me back. This won’t make me broke.” After that, he actually put an honest smile on display; one of those that reached your eyes and made your ears move. I had to say, I was caught slightly by surprise and felt too perplexed to respond anything of importance. “Nice nose you have there, by the way.” Notes: Not a native speaker! Please do give constructive criticism :) I know this ship is ... not rare, but rather non-existent. So I’m sure it’s hard to get into if you’re not familiar with one of those lovely men. There’s a few links and pictures on my AO3 story if you’d like to have some more information. Have fun <3
Soul Meets Body
Chapter 01
“Hey, man. Don’t wanna pester a stranger for change but … my card isn’t working. Can you lend me a buck or two?”
The weird guy in front of me lifted his head in confusion as if I had accidentally said something in Chinese instead. His tousled dark hair peeked out under his black beanie. That’s strange, I recalled myself thinking, if it weren’t for his rainwater blue eyes, I could have easily mistaken him for a fancy black-and-white painting. And because I was starting to feel awkward about this whole thing, I felt like adding a rushed “I swear I’m not a beggar, I’ll give it back to you. See, I’m not from here …”
“Obviously,” he remarked dryly and lowered his head again in search for some coins. “We don’t go around with change that often here anymore.”
Something about his accent was drawing me in; making me want to focus solely on his lips when he spoke. It wasn’t as though I was an expert on British dialects – I really couldn’t tell if he was from London or any other random place – but his words left his throat so smoothly and yet tugged so heavily on his tongue it left me befuddled.
“The credit card wave hasn’t hit Japan all that hard yet,” I laughed awkwardly but waited for a satisfying reaction from him in vain. He certainly wasn’t the extroverted happy-go-lucky type by any means. Maybe those prejudices were true after all.
“Thought you’d be from America – judging by your accent.”
At this remark, I paused for a moment. I knew he didn’t mean any harm, though I had to face this kind of reaction on a daily basis. I certainly didn’t feel a close connection to my American heritage; not like my brother did, anyway. But in the eyes of the Japanese, I wasn’t Japanese enough, either. So I forced a plain smile on my lips to conceal my caution. It had been so long since I’d actually felt offended by similar kinds of comments.
“I am. I am half.”
“Half …” he mused and finally picked out the right amount of cash I’d need to buy a sandwich and handed it to me. “Don’t worry, no need to pay me back. This won’t make me broke.”
After that, he actually put an honest smile on display; one of those that reached your eyes and made your ears move. I had to say, I was caught slightly by surprise and felt too perplexed to respond anything of importance. “Nice nose you have there, by the way.”
I immediately faced the shelves in order to avoid any suspicious glances from strangers the moment he was gone. My Japanese genes were strongly imbedded in me after all. Even at 32 years of age, I couldn’t handle a stranger complimenting me.
Paralysed with painful embarrassment, I rubbed my red cheeks and waited for my head to cool down. At least the chill from the fridges in front of me was somewhat helpful. I could act calm and collected all I wanted in my everyday concert environment – in my heart I was still a shy, reluctant person.
***
I had to admit – I kept thinking on and on about that guy ever since I had left the store. Meeting him again by chance in such an enormous city, especially considering I wasn’t living here and about to move on, was, simply speaking, luck I didn’t have to spare. Band mates were noticing I was acting kinda off. Though I didn’t want to admit it to myself that this whole thing felt, oddly enough, like two twelve-year-olds falling in love at first sight. Of course, however, I couldn’t speak for him …
I was 32. Men my age were long married by then in Japan. I had had my fair share of long relationships throughout the years, though not one of them even with the slightest potential of prevailing. I could never hold onto them, they could never catch me the way I needed them to and in the end all there was left was me and the road. I know that sounded more melodramatic than an entry in a teenager’s diary. But here I was, making fun of my love life in order not to feel too sorry for myself.
The truth was: I’d really tried it with girls. I truly had. I was attracted to them … in some way. I just never quite knew what to do with them. Hard to explain. They never stuck around and I was never too sad about that fact. I moved on. I had my plans, I had my schedules, I had my music. At first, I’d thought that I was distracting myself from all that, but that was not quite it. I would be lying if I said I did not feel the slightest bit of relief whenever one of them left. It just got to me that I’d always be left alone.
Whenever we were staying longer in the same city, we were fortunate enough to get our own private hotel rooms instead of sleeping in the tour bus. And so I sat on my bed there that night – it was already far too late – and zapped somewhat dully through the channels. That’s where I spotted him. And I felt my jaw drop to the ground.
It seemed like I had some luck left after all – even if not exactly the desired amount.
I quickly found out the name of the show he was starring in and it didn’t take long for me to unearth his name. After that, I might or might not have gulped down his Wikipedia page. He was not at all unknown. Not at all. I felt as if in shock. Not that daydreaming a little about actually getting to know him better would have been realistic by any means before that. For various reasons I should not have to list, of course. But now … this changed quite a lot, didn’t it? Contacting a stranger – hard, but not impossible. Contacting a famous stranger on the other hand? I was fucked. Just not in the good way. I just felt silly how I reacted; he really got to me. I’d seen so many different people from all over the world in these past few years – and he got to me, just like that.
Colin Morgan, the page said. One year older than me. Irish. Did quite some theatre work – Ariel in Shakespeare’s “The Tempest” undoubtedly being one of his most famous ones. Won an award for the portrayal of said role. Landed the leading part in a 5 season long running show called “Merlin”. Played in films and shows together with Tom Hardy, Chris Hemsworth Colin Firth. I was baffled.
I could see he was passionate. Talented. And oh-so invitingly magnetic. My heart did a little jump. Although, I had to admit, the situation at hand could have been worse. I wasn’t quite sure whether the stalker image suited me, but at least now I knew where he was currently performing. I had locations, I had dates. And even though I should technically feel rather lousy about it all, the general bubbling thrill prevailed. I didn’t know I had it in me, acting so stalker-ish.
“Geez.” I dropped my phone on my forehead. It bounced onto the bed with an admittedly louder thud than I’d expected. I was going crazy. Not the I-eat-ice-cream-for-breakfast-kinda-crazy but a full-on I-order-a-fishing-hat-on-amazon-so-I-can-go-feed-the-local-ducks-at-6am-in-the-morning-kinda-crazy. This was ridiculous. Each and every friend of mine would spend literal hours here laughing at me.
And I couldn’t wait seeing him again.
***
My heart was thumping in my ears; my throat; my veins. I couldn’t swallow anymore. Again, I felt like 12.
So I was standing here, right in front of The Old Vic Theatre in London, eyeing the scenery from a few cautious feet apart. I couldn’t have been luckier to have the two most important factors on my side: it was our day off between two shows and he was actually performing on stage right this day. It was late already and kind of dark, minus the street lamp lights. And busy, too. I waited here in order for him to finish his show and come out, though, to be fair, I didn’t quite know how popular he was and if I even had the chance of meeting him this way. I already felt crazy enough doing this. But I would have never forgiven myself had I not tried it at least.
I nervously rubbed my palms; even though it was unhurriedly becoming spring, the nights were still chilly enough. But just as I finished that thought, the first excited pairs of spectators left the building and started lining up right in front of it, making my blood boil hot. I could feel their excitement and rush of adrenaline on my skin; suddenly the air was filled with leftover sparks and electricity. It reminded me hugely of the energy produced at our gigs and instantly felt at home and suddenly very calm.
I stood there for maybe a few dozen minutes, I didn’t count, as the entry filled with lots and lots of waiting fans. Then, he finally appeared.
In the soft shine of the street lights, his hair shimmered wet and curled around the edges of his ears, he had to have come right from under the shower. I had to admit, however, that I felt like a big old creep lurking at him from the shadows. So I hoped he’d finish the signing session soon enough. After a while I found it fascinating that his fans did not seem to ask him for any photos with him often; he mostly just signed flyers, shirts and DVD’s.
When most had already left and he had quit talking to the last two girls, I nervously scurried a bit closer; waiting for my natural impulses to kick in and do something. Maybe I should have come closer sooner, though I still felt pathetic. But as he waved them goodbye and turned to go back inside, maybe pick up his belongings, my instincts finally did show up and so, out of fear of passing up the chance, I ran the last few steps and shouted “Hey, nice nose you have there, by the way!”
I saw him stopping in his tracks and turning around again to face the odd disturbance he had run into after such a long day. I could see he was still puzzled the first few seconds; I could see it in his eyes. But then, it finally clicked and he laughed out loud at the sight of me. And what a sight that had to have been. If one could die from cringe, this would have been my clue.
“This … is not a coincidence, is it?”
“I’m afraid not, sorry,” I scratched my head in order to have anything to do with my useless hands. “But I swear I didn’t know about you when we met.”
“So … you’re saying you’ve been stalking me?”
“Can we just stop here with all the allegations and questions?” I chuckled awkwardly at my own petty joke. But he seemed to listen and understand. “No, I’ll be honest. I saw you on TV last night. And it kind of felt like a sign … maybe?”
“That’s your honest?” he grinned, but did not look me in the eyes. Now that I stood before him for the second time, I realised that he was also quite a bit taller than I was. “Tell you what. I’ll be out in, like, another half an hour. I have to discuss something first. Meet me at The Cut in a bit?”
I was too paralysed to say anything of substance then and there, really. So I nodded and got a short but endearing smile from him in return.
My head felt dizzy as he got inside again and I was left there in the cold, yet feeling weirdly giddy and hot to the touch at the same time. I didn’t even notice the chilliness surrounding me anymore.
***
“So … you’re a tourist then?”
The waitress brought us a glass of white wine and a Gin Tonic. I thanked her.
“Not quite,” I admitted and tilted my head. The vibe in the bar was smooth and calm. The lights were dimmed and rain had started to fall; drumming a soothing melody against the wide window panes. “I’m here for work.”
“Oh?” he smirked and took a first considerate sip from his glass. “So you mean business?”
I knew what he meant but for some reason I just couldn’t fully relax in his presence, so I watched him laugh about his own joke and chuckled nervously; burying my nose in my drink. “Sorry, we might have a curious kind of humour, don’t let it bother you. I’m just bantering.”
The cold liquid ran hot and nicely stinging down my raspy throat. I nodded and put on a short smile. “Say, is it often that you go for a drink with some random guy you just met or did you just feel lonely?”
“You must be kidding, I’m a busy man,” he laughed again, his ears waggling. “I would not do so if I didn’t find you attractive in any way – if I can be that blunt with you.” He put down his glass and leaned forward a few tiny inches; his voice soft and smooth, his tongue suddenly light as air. “I mean, I assume you must be feeling the same way. Or else you wouldn’t have stalked me, right?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds so pathetic,” I grinned and shook my head; the heaviness of my thoughts and concerns slowly dripping from my shoulders. He just had this all-encompassing presence surrounding him like a fine mist; I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It was strange, but in a very good way. He certainly did not look as witty and sharp as he actually was. I wasn’t used to that at all but as I warmed up to the idea bit by bit, I felt more at ease opening up to him. So I unconsciously shuffled a bit closer even. “I just couldn’t get you out of my head, frankly.”
“So that’s settled then, I guess,” I heard him muse as he swayed his wine glass in a mindful manner. Why did I feel like that this was not the first time he did something like that? “Oh, I just realised … You haven’t told me your name. I’m Colin.”
I took his hand, all the while chuckling to myself. “I know. It’s Masato Hayakawa.”
“Masato Hayakawa … Good, now that we are no strangers anymore, it’s okay for you to get inside my car, right? Only that I don’t drive a car when I’m in London, I’m afraid.”
I shook my head as I let go of his hand, evidently amused. But the sensation of his firm grip yet soft touch lingered like a spark on my skin even seconds after the hand shake. For the first time, I actually took in his body and all I could see of it. The faint rise and fall of his clothed, broad chest; almost close enough to touch and my fingertips itched so badly for it. His bare underarms, he had rolled up the sleeves of his dark wool sweater, rested nonchalantly on the small table between us. His long, delicate fingers had been fiddling with a piece of paper after our touch, as if he was drunk with thoughts – but instead he looked me right in the eye the second I lifted my gaze again. Abruptly, a sharp pain in the pit of my stomach – but an enjoyable one at that.
“I took the Underground, too,” I heard myself say in a cushioned, faint voice. Not any one of us could deny the obvious attraction we felt for each other any longer, not if we wanted to.
“Where you’re staying at?”
“You couldn’t get any blunter now, could you?
***
The second we closed the door behind us, he pushed me up right against it. With his mouth muffling my thoughts and worries, he drummed long forgotten sensations inside my veins instead; replaced the dark, twisted voices. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe. It was just him engulfing me as though there had never been anyone else.
Somewhere along the line we had lost our jackets.
It had been so long for me. Not necessarily the physical part per se; but that I actually felt something. Lust, desire, passion … I just knew that I wanted him. I didn’t think about what came after. This was the only thing that mattered right now.
I certainly wasn’t keen on admitting it, but it was so immensely pleasant to let someone else be in control that, on top of it all, was also quite a bit taller than yourself. He pressed up against me so effortlessly and stole my breath, tucked at my shirt and brushed through my damp hair. I could have sworn his hands were everywhere and surrendering to them was just so easy.
Unhurriedly, he licked the sensitive skin on my neck where my heartbeat pulsated vigorously underneath the Vena tattoo. I felt him tracing each and every stroke of black ink and I clawed at his sweater; almost desperately.
After all that, he wordlessly dropped to his knees, kissing down my hip bones towards my happy trail and then looked up.
“Whoah, whoah, you’re sure?” I exclaimed, seemingly out of breath and slightly shaky myself.
“What did you have in mind then, princess?” He did it again; just like that. Muted me with a snap of his fingers, any words of resistance I might have had – gone. Where did he take all that confidence from? No one ever called me “princess” in situations like these; but I had to admit, I liked it. “Don’t you want to feel my tongue on you?”
He licked the sensitive skin down there, unbuttoned my jeans with one hand; meanwhile, the other one dragged lazy strokes across my chest from under my shirt. It felt heavenly. “I–I do …”
“See, doll, wasn’t that hard now, was it?”
“Oh, it’s hard,” I laughed, as he finally tugged at my pants and pulled them down; my hard on tenting my briefs. He intently traced the shape of my dick before he let his hot breath flow over the fabric. I twitched. My fingers wandered intuitively towards his head; brushing through his hair, dragging at the strands. It felt so good to be with someone who knew exactly what he wanted. To feel my own fever be met with at least the same amount of hot anger and ecstasy.
I didn’t leave the hotel tonight in order to find someone to have sex with – but our bodies exhaled that kind of electricity that made you wonder if there could have been any other outcome than this one to begin with.
Finally, he slipped my shorts down to my ankles. Seeing that now the tightness of the fabric was gone and a delicate chill brushed my skin, I shuddered; overwhelmed with all these new sensations. Didn’t know I could even feel anything like this.
I couldn’t bring myself to look down, as he let his tongue wander from the base of my hard cock to the tip. I gasped, he grinned; I felt it on my skin. Assertively, I pushed my hips forward and his head closer to my groin; and instead of resisting and lecturing me in his I-know-better-voice, he obliged and took in my full length. Overwhelmed, I threw my head back against the door; eyes closed and breath drawn in sharply, his own moans muffled. I couldn’t even realise how far he could take me in without any effort whatsoever. My head felt dizzy and feverish hot.
Slowly but surely, he established a firm rhythm; one hand on my hip, the other alternating between jerking me off and massaging my balls. I didn’t even have to think about holding myself back; my first hesitant, testing thrusts now meeting his movements harder, faster and rougher. He didn’t complain at all, quite the contrary, really; under my shallow breath, I heard him moan and sob around my cock, but his pace only got more rapid.
This whole situation fucked me up so badly, I didn’t even know where my head stood anymore. Every inch of my skin prickled as though his hands were still wandering across my body. My stomach felt hot and I could not grasp a single thought. Somewhere along the line I heard him open his fly and pull out his own dick but at this point, I really could not say anything, respond to anything, let alone interfere in what he was doing. The still functioning part of my brain told me that he was about to jerk himself off while sucking my dick, even though I would have died to taste him myself, but I was not able to interrupt him.
The warm pressure and the awareness that it was this beautiful man who willingly took in my full length let me finally lose my head completely. Our matching rhythm grew hastier and more careless. Maybe I hurt him with my fast thrusts, though if I did, he seemed to like it. I desperately yanked at the locks on his head that I could reach and hold onto; moaning all the way and relishing in the fact that he was hopefully exhaling sounds of pleasure while he was choking on my cock.
“W-wait … I’m coming–“ was all I could croak out in my current state, though of course he did not stop. Then a huge wave of electricity jerked through my body; if it wasn’t pitch-black behind my eyelids to begin with, now it was.
It took me a few seconds to realise that I had come in his mouth and he was still indulgently sucking and licking at my dick; cum already swallowed.
Now I grasped that I was panting; felt the rise and fall of my own chest. My arms limp and totally out of energy; I leaned against the cold door and brushed through his damp hair. We hadn’t even turned on the lights.
“Will you stand up? I want to kiss you.”
After another soft lick, he wiped his mouth sloppily and got to his feet; still this never-disappearing kind of smirk tugging at his lips. “Sorry, I might have just ruined your shoes.”
I chuckled breathlessly. “That’s fair enough, I guess.” With my hand behind the back of his head, I pulled him closer to me until our noses and foreheads touched. I could hear his pulse. A weirdly intimate moment between two strangers; so much more affectionate and warmer than the act before. Then I finally touched his lips with mine.
A soft kiss, not rushed by any means. I could taste the faint characteristic bitterness on his tongue but it only made me love this more. I pulled him even closer to me – my fingertips still itched.
***
“That was not your first time, though, was it? With a man?”
I shook my head no but realised he could probably not see it in the dark. I lay on the big king sized bed while he stood at the open window, smoking. “No. Never had a real relationship with one, but I’ve had my fair share of flings. With one guy.”
“Did you want more?”
“No, he did.”
“I see,” he mused, exhaling slowly, probably thinking. “I’ve slept with a few guys. But I couldn’t get over this one in particular. Isn’t it always like this?”
“The irony,” I agreed, rustling on the bed sheets. Even though the street noise entered through the window and soaked our hair and minds, I still could not concentrate on any other sound than on that of him inhaling the nicotine. “What we want is what we don’t get and what we get is not what we want.”
After a while, he closed the window, had probably finished smoking, only to turn around with a huge gesture; a smile plastered all over his face in the dark. “Was he as good looking as me?”
“Oh, quite the opposite,” I blurted out before quickly realising what I had just said and started backtracking. “I– didn’t mean he’s ugly. He’s just … short, blonde, petite, bratty … very Japanese-ish. He’s the opposite of you.”
“You don’t like the opposite of me?”
Even though we just had sex, him acting so obviously flirty with me, in such a witty and positively provocative way on top of it all, still left me dumbfounded. I had never actually questioned myself why I hadn’t liked my former affair the way he had liked me. After meeting Colin, however, I wondered why I had never felt this giddy and complete with anyone I had ever been with before. It felt so easy.
All these stories about “love at first sight” … how true could they be?
Through the blurry darkness, occasionally illuminated by street lights and passing cars, I watched him stroll towards the other end of the room. “What is someone like you supposed to do with a piano inside their hotel room?”
He let his fingers glide over the wood surface, hesitantly sitting down in front of it. “What do you mean ‘someone like me’?” I laughed.
He chuckled silently to himself as he opened the cover deliberately, almost as if he was remembering some long forgotten, nostalgic memory that he had softly carried in his soul. I instantly grew more attentive; my eyes fixed on his delicate outline in the dark.
The tune he then played reached my ears only faintly but oh so very pleasantly like shallow river water you dip your naked feet in when summer is at its peak. Even though I didn’t know the song that was on his mind, I could tell it was dear to him; he had to have played it a lot gentler and slower than the original would have sounded. After a while had passed, he chimed in.
I do believe it's true
That there are roads left in both of our shoes
But if the silence takes you
Then I hope it takes me too
So brown eyes I'll hold you near
'Cause you're the only song I want to hear
A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere
As always, I was a prisoner to my thoughts and inactions. My instinct told me to get closer to this melody which let the hairs on the back of my neck stand up; but instead I stood there, motionless. When will this guy stop putting me in such a constant state of awe?
“I know I’m not the best singer,” he smiled loudly. “I’m an actor after all. But, you know, when you go to classical drama school …”
“You have to have vocal training too, yeah … You’re not half as bad,” I laughed, finally finding the courage to shift closer, letting my fingers wander from his shoulder to his neck. “Your voice is a tad too low for this part, though.”
“I know,” he started to explain with a soft voice, slowly turning towards me, searching for my gaze in the darkness. “But I like it. My lovers always ever had blue eyes, you know?”
I didn’t quite know what to make of this statement, really. This new side of him, a far more insecure, maybe even affectionate side, confused me even if no man was ever just black and white. I knew I didn’t have blue eyes, is all. For some weird reason, however, I felt challenged. If I was good at one thing, it was singing after all.
Tell me how do I let go?
When all I know is to hold on
Every memory that you left
Keeps me from moving ahead
Tell me how do I let go?
I never had to say a word
It's like you always saw me through
But all you ever asked of me
Was to hold you like I always do
I never had to say a word
It's like you always saw me through
But all you ever asked of me
Was to love you like I do
Tell me how do I let go?
When all I know is to hold on
Every memory that you left
Keeps me from moving ahead
Tell me how do I let go?
Frankly, I didn’t know what I was expecting, maybe laughter or amusement – an awkward smile. But Colin kept strangely silent after I had finished the view verses of the song that I had spontaneously felt like singing. The air was electrified but painfully silent. I shouldn’t feel the need to apologise for choosing such a clichéd sad song. But now that he kept quiet, I felt a bit stupid for doing so nonetheless. This song meant a lot to me and we had yet to publish it still. I had written it a long time ago but hadn’t had the courage to come forward with it. It still hurt a lot thinking about it and thus I generally didn’t.
So I was grateful for this bizarre kind of bubble we were in right now; our own world, so to speak. It didn’t feel real and maybe the past wasn’t, either. Maybe it was the orgasm after taste, the blurry light floating through the gloom or just the general vibe. But nothing here felt like reality. I would have never opened up my heart this way to a total stranger. A stranger I just had sex with, on top of that. Someone I had just met.
“You should do that professionally, man.”
Admittedly quite startled, I could only croak out a nervous little laugh at his conclusion. I didn’t plan on telling him any time soon, really. It would then somehow feel more real; too real, to be honest. I just could not seem to keep my fingers off other well-known people in the business who were not that excited at the prospect of the common mortal finding out about it. Me neither, of course. And I didn’t want to have to deal with that yet again.
“It’s called ‘January 1st–“ I whispered into the darkness because I didn’t know what else to say.
Colin was just standing up and about to say something as well when someone knocked on the door. His lips were now mere inches apart from mine.
“Er … would you?” I hinted at the bed with a funny tone in my voice I couldn’t seem to cover up and he obliged without a word. Then I opened the door; Sugi in front of me.
“Hey … I thought I heard something. Where were you earlier?” He asked in quiet Japanese.
“Ah– sorry. I thought I’d messaged you guys. I just needed to clear my head, is all. I went for a walk.”
“Not a problem, mate,” he bumped my shoulder with his fist and then pointed behind him. “We wanted to grab a pint. Care to join us?”
“Yeah,” I contemplated; having to pause a second in order to find the right words. “I’ll be there in a minute, all right?”
Sugi nodded and left to join the others in the lobby. I stood there; irrevocably back in reality again. Erratically, I closed the door. I would have loved to live in our little bubble forever but we both probably knew that that was not possible.
“Your friends?”
“Colleagues, actually.”
“You sound hot when you speak Japanese.”
I chuckled at his flirtatious remark but it only sounded nervous in my ears. That was it, then. Going for a drink, sleeping, waking up, eating, sound check, concert, in the bus and to the next city. No time to see him again. The lump in my throat was too big to swallow at this point; I had difficulties expressing what really was on my mind.
“We’re … meeting up at the pub outside.”
“So there’s my clue to go, right?”
“I’m afraid so.”
He strolled towards me from the dark corner next to the bed; holding his hands up as though declaring truce. “Hayakawa-San, it was nice to meet you.”
Instead of the anticipated kiss, he shook my hand but quickly came around and pulled me towards him. “Will you give me your phone number?” I whispered against his lips.
“I don’t have one. I promise I’ll find you.”
“You–“ I started, confused by this statement, though could not finish my thought as he finally closed the space between us to kiss me. It was a light one, not rushed at all. No passion and yet it felt appropriate under these circumstances.
“See you around, princess!”
***
“Hi, hi! Wait, please!” Someone shouted in my general direction as I was about to get on the bus. Since the person spoke English, however, no one but me felt addressed and turned around.
It was a short, well-rounded girl with long, dark hair. She looked to be Japanese, or Asian for that matter, though her accent was unmistakably British. I put on a professional smile while I paused in my tracks and heard the others ignore this small interlude. “Yes?” “Hi, sorry for interrupting you guys! I don’t want to bother you. It’s just that I was at your concert the other day and I didn’t get to meet you. I just wanted you to sign my CD.”
I had to admit, I was a tiny bit disappointed. For a second, how could it have been any different, I thought it might’ve been Colin saying goodbye. However, this girl seemed to be nice and I didn’t feel annoyed in any way. So I took the CD off her and chuckled softly. “What’s your name?”
“It’s Mio.”
“You’re Japanese?” One of the security guys had handed me a black sharpie I scribbled some words with on the cover.
“Yes. I do speak Japanese, I just feel more confident speaking English. I’ve been raised here.”
“I know the feeling,” I smiled a genuine smile before giving the CD back to her. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m afraid I’ll have to go now.” I lazily pointed at the bus behind me and the few people left standing around and watching us.
“No, no. I understand, don’t worry! I enjoyed the gig! Hope to see you again soon!”
She waved a last time before vanishing in the crowds of busy people. But it still felt like a weird encounter, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, though. Maybe it was the fact that she was yet another hāfu, just the other way around.  Or that she would stay in London and I would have to go back to Japan, regrettably sooner than later.
***
I sure as hell hadn’t counted the days but it definitely had been months since I’d last seen him.
Japan had safely transitioned from rainy season to typhoon season and it had been yet another unbearably hot and dry but humid summer beforehand. I had witnessed the blooming of the sakura trees which had lost their soothingly pink blossoms mere five days after they had drawn their first breaths. The heavy rainfalls had soaked my sleeves not only once or twice. And now, as the cicadas sang their lullabies each night, I wondered if he still cramped his dark locks of hair underneath his beanie.
I honestly didn’t want to conjure up any gloomy thoughts because that was not like me. I had to act my hopeful and good-humoured self when I was on stage; and frankly, I wanted to. The more positive thoughts you let roam in your soul, the more effect they would have on your psyche. I lived for that, normally. But I did miss him. Not being around him was worse enough; but not even being able to communicate was as atrociously debilitating as finding yourself lost in the dark woods at midnight. Sometimes, in a quiet moment, I asked myself if he had played me after all. If he did own a phone – just not as far as I was concerned. He’d promised that he’d be in touch. And frankly, if he’d really wanted to he could have very well done it by now. I felt ashamed for admitting it even to myself – but I was too proud trying to contact him instead. I didn’t want to keep running after him like a desperate school boy. And here I was thinking that what we had felt that day was genuine and honest.
But what did they say? Life goes on. And I knew mine would. Harder and faster even than any other.
I had hidden myself listening to music in the farthest corner of the building, as I was used to be doing right before a concert to calm my nerves and get me in the right mind-set. As I was sitting there, nodding rhythmically to some random Papa Roach songs, I felt someone tapping my shoulder out of the blue. First I was startled as I was so deeply sunken into my routine but when I looked up, Hiroki stood before me; his gaze falling down on me like broken glass shards. As confused as I was at first, it all made sense since MY FIRST STORY actually was the supporting act for this concert in Nagoya. Of course I’d known this, even if I hadn’t been particularly delighted at the prospect.
“Your pre-concert habit?”
He looked to be nearly ready for their gig, too. Wearing his hair a warm brown colour these days, which suited him undeniably nicely, he did not appear to be as unpleasant as his recent behaviour had actually suggested. It made his features even softer and perfected the sparkle in his eyes when he smiled brightly.
“You know better than to bother me now.”
“I just wanted to check if you were okay,” he shrugged his puny shoulders but this annoyingly satisfied grin never quite left his lips.
“Yeah, right,” I huffed and reached for his arm to pull myself up. He didn’t even act surprised in the slightest. We must still make a good team after all. “That’s so you.”
In front of me, Hiro shuffled his feet and could not hide from the fact that he did indeed still look a bit like a little lost boy. Our love affair felt so far away; I felt so immensely dissociated from him even though we were currently facing each other. I observed the shape of his soft lips but I could not for the life of me remember how they tasted.
“You didn’t like the idea of touring together, am I right?”
“Honestly? No, I did not. Alexandros would have been quite enough. I could not provide any valid reasons, though,” I explained in a low voice, leaning against the cold wall behind me; sobering up my mind. I was not that tall, however, Hiro still only came up to my shoulders. “We perfectly managed not touring together throughout all those years. Low-key without attracting attention.”
“There’s nothing to attract attention to anymore, though …”
There was still disappointment to be heard in his high pitched voice I used to fall asleep to. After all these years and fights and tears. I knew I had broken his heart back then but I was not the one that would be able to mend it back together. And so I decided to change the subject.
“I heard about your break-down at the Budokan,” I started hesitatingly but reconsidered my choice of words and started anew. “No, what I meant was: I saw it. I felt really sorry. Those were heart-wrenching words. I know how hard it’s been for you.”
“Right … we haven’t really been talking since, huh?” Hiroki mused but at least I could not see any genuine grief reflected in his carnelian coloured eyes. “It’s been years, though. I’m fine. Thanks for caring.”
“Hey,” I said with a soothing tone to my voice and put one arm around his shoulders. They felt fragile and delicate like bare skinned branches in a storm. Foreign. How had it been like to kiss his name into the pale skin of his neck? “Let’s go for a drink after this. As friends. Maybe there’s more to talk about than we think.”
***
Seeing that Alexandros was one of Coldrain’s supporting acts too, we could not help but perform Kill Me If You Can together on stage. Going up there as mates and singing these familiar notes and words, so unlike our own songs, felt wrong in all the right ways. Suddenly, I was back in late 2015, early 2016. I was still with Hiroki, the rich sounds felt like honey on my tongue and today they were still as warm as the last sunrays we’d felt on our skin before we broke up. And when it was finally time for us to go up on stage I couldn’t help but to think about Colin one last time as I performed January 1st. We had finally published it and even though everything felt like K and both melancholy and joy swelled up inside my body thinking of him, I now also associated the song with this God damn Irish guy.
Tell me how do I let go?
When all I know is to hold on
Every memory that you left
Keeps me from moving ahead
Tell me how do I let go?
I never had to say a word
It's like you always saw me through
But all you ever asked of me
Was to hold you like I always do
I never had to say a word
It's like you always saw me through
But all you ever asked of me
Was to love you like I do
Tell me how do I let go?
When all I know is to hold on
Every memory that you left
Keeps me from moving ahead
Tell me how do I let go?
I sang these verses with each and every emotion I could evoke as I was thinking about our shared moments somewhere in the back of my mind. Trying to figure out simultaneously if I’d honestly missed him or if I was just so tired of feeling left alone. As we’d finished the song, however, and I stepped off the stage under cheers and applause from our fans crying ankōru, I again remembered that back in London this was the song I chose to sang in that hotel room. These were the lines that had come to my mind like a lost memory ready to be reawakened.
The memory of Colin’s soft touch on my neck, however … his tender looks that melted into my skin like gentle summer rain. I was not able to let him go just yet.
***
It was already far after midnight when we exited the venue; arm in arm. Frankly, I did not worry about photographers or passersby who could see us like this. It didn’t mean anything. He was the little bro of one of my best friends – people knew. We were having fun, we were laughing loudly and grins were wide; I held him close to my side by his shoulder and together we staggered through the little side streets as though we were drunk. We had let the other guys leave without us; our tussled hair still damp from the previous shower. I didn’t know what we would really be up to but we’d planned on going for a drink as friends. But right now, I felt intoxicated from his too sweet cologne and wondered if his birthmarks where still on the same spots I remembered them to be and if there was new ink to discover on his porcelain skin. I knew I probably shouldn’t sleep with my ex, but I felt so disappointed in myself and in the whole world. I knew I would probably break his heart again – but for some vile reason I felt like I deserved this one.
The earth was still cooling off and even the pavement underneath our feet appeared to still be emitting the last warmth of the late summer’s day. It was a stark contrast to those bitter cold evenings in London. The wind grazed our cheeks only so very delicately once in a while and I threw back my head to inhale the pure night air which was rich of excitement and thrill.
“You know, this feels so familiar,” I heard him purr close to my ear; our movements kind of sluggish as if we cherished every step along the way. I myself was just as eager to forget that Colin ever existed. I had to let him go. Just pretending for one night that Hiro’s moans and breathy laughter beneath my body in the sheets could freeze my unanswered longing. I knew that was kind of fucked up. “Don’t you miss our banter?”
“Sometimes,” I admitted under my breath and it wasn’t even a lie. We did have chemistry – that much was true. We’d felt an instant connection the first time we’d really spent time together. It had been interesting with him the first few months; the first year. He always said what he wanted to say, he was such a little brat and back then I was absorbed with taming him – to the point of obsessiveness even. He hadn’t learned a thing, though, but in bed he did what he was told like the good little boy he was. Yes, sometimes I missed that.
“My begging?” his grin tugged at his lips and reached from one cheek to the other as he carefully observed my reaction; as if he’d guessed my thoughts.
I let out a low growl and buried my nose in his soft hair. Still as hopeless as ever. No wonder my fingertips itched for the sensation of pressing his wrists into the hard mattress. “Your ‘yes’s’ and ‘of course’s’.”
I couldn’t help it and felt my dick twitch in my trousers at the mere thought. This here didn’t have this mysterious delicateness wafting around our heads like blue mist. There was no electricity, no pining to the extent of experiencing pain. I didn’t want to trace his collarbones with my fingertips and wasn’t going mad at the idea of him breathing out my name. I wanted to fuck him because this felt familiar; comforting. I knew how he’d react; I finally remembered how the little sobs on his tongue tasted.
“Long time no see, nice nose.”
The familiar dark voice came out of nowhere and tore at my attention in the roughest of ways. My first reaction was to persuade myself that my mind was playing tricks on me. To dissuade me from making this huge mistake I would most definitely regret in a lot of different ways. But before I could conclude any of my further interpretations, the voice spoke again and I stopped in my tracks.
“Busy?”
“That’s not fair.” I turned around with an unbelieving sigh as if I was reprimanding a ghost of my past that no one else but me was able to see. Of course it was Colin. Now. Out of all people. Why now.
“That’s kind of awkward now,” he admitted with a stiff smile that I had not seen once on his bold lips before. It made him seem more human somehow, I realised with dismay. “Isn’t it?”
Not quite knowing how to react, I let go of Hiro’s shoulders who then looked at me in confusion and mild irritation. His English was not good enough to follow our simple conversation, especially with Colin’s thick Northern Irish accent and Hiro being stressed out enough as he was. In the meantime, Colin walked closer to us in the shine of the street lights; his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets, the black beanie sitting on his head as if time had been standing still all along.
“I don’t really know what to say, to be honest with you,” I heard myself speak in a low voice as though it wasn’t me making these sounds. Time had never felt more like an eerie dream; not since back then in the hotel room. I had waited for him – for months that had felt like centuries. I had pined after and longed for him, yes, I had cried. Once. I’d been drunk and very frustrated, maybe a bit angry even. But I’d been so hopeful that we would see each other again and now, out of all times, he just appeared out of thin air? How was that fair? I was about to forget him!
“A … ‘hello’ would be good for starters?” he smiled at me; the one that made it seem like his blue eyes were closed entirely and little laugh lines appeared right underneath them. “After that … what about an ‘I missed you’? Because I know I did.”
For a second, I felt so very bad for Hiroki standing next to us like an oblivious toddler. I felt his gaze drift from me to Colin and back, but I could not force my own eyes off Colin’s. I just couldn’t explain how he did it; it was like he had magic for real. I was lost. Then he extended his hand for Hiro to grab.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Colin, nice to meet you.”
“Moriuchi Hiroki,” he spat out like a foul fruit but took Colin’s hand nonetheless, had to have realised what the guy in front of him wanted without actually understanding.
“This is … my ex-boyfriend,” I explained cautiously and knew that Hiroki was listening intently for key-words. On Colin’s face, however, I saw that everything had finally clicked into place.
“The fling …” he mused with a fleeting look at Hiro. He didn’t mean it in a bad way, I supposed. He ought to have remembered our night and our conversation. Yes, I had meant Hiro back then. He hadn’t been more than a fling to me in retrospect. But I also knew that this special tone in Colin’s voice when he said the word didn’t sit quite right with me, either.
“I’m sorry, but didn’t we want to go someplace?” Hiro’s Japanese sentence totally out of the blue only underlined my low-key uneasiness as it shook me back to reality and to what was actually happening then and there. I agreed – we did. And even though my lungs suddenly felt as though they were filled with water, I swallowed it down and watched as my hand crawled back on Hiro’s shoulders once more.
“Yeah, you’re right, we did,” I replied in Japanese, followed by a short, unsure glance at Colin. I was mad up to the tip of my hair; both at him for not contacting me and suddenly appearing out of nowhere with that anger inducing “I’m-Innocent”-grin. I thought as though he was probably just insecure and felt sorry for all of this too … maybe. Something about the way he shuffled his feet restlessly and perhaps he really was. He had definitely met me at the wrong moment because right now I was determined to stay angry at him and to not give in so easily even though my fingers itched yet again for his touch. Then the longing set in too and mingled with all of that built-up frustration in the pit of my stomach and suddenly I felt like vomiting. I just knew that I had to get out of there. Now.
“I’m sorry, Colin. I have plans tonight.” I swiftly thought about asking for meeting up another day or for how long he was planning on staying, solely for conversational purposes of course. But the words just weren’t eager to roll off my tongue. I saw it in Colin’s eyes that he’d expected something … anything more but it didn’t come and it hurt me, too. Subconsciously I grabbed Hiro’s shoulder harder and I only noticed when he tensed up underneath my hand subsequently.
In the fleeting shine of the street lights Colin tried his hardest not to let any more emotions play out on his face but he was a good actor after all. I could not seem to detect anything other than a thin, cold wall between us anymore. “I see. Sorry to have jumped at you like this,” he nodded and smiled warmly. “Maybe I can contact you some way? I do have a phone now, you know.”
I had to laugh out loud at his last revelation and for a moment I let go of Hiro’s shoulders. I didn’t make fun of him, I just appreciated his weird sense of humour still; even in situations like these I supposed. “Yeah. Yeah, go on. Give me your number, I’ll message you.”
I was somewhat surprised when he could tell me his own number right off the bat. I had difficulties recalling my own number still and it hadn’t changed in years. But then again, it was technically Colin’s job to memorise lines. After I had typed the digits in, he put on yet another smile and crossed his arms awkwardly. “I’ll be here for another week or so. I thought I’d do a bit of sightseeing while I’m at it. Never been here before.”
I nodded approvingly and said a casual goodbye that he reciprocated, although seeming visibly reluctant in doing so. A stray thought stuck between the then and now that was meant to be uttered out. But then I had already started walking again until I could only feel his stares biting into my back and I had to force myself not to turn my head to look at him one more time. It was like ripping off a band-aid, really. Once we had turned the next corner, I felt the weight being lifted from my shoulders entirely.
***
“This wasn’t quite what I was expecting.” Hiroki was sitting next to me like a proper pile of wet laundry, a beer in front of him on the table between us.
Yeah, considering our touchy-feely attitude before we’d both thought about going home … until Colin had appeared. I knew Hiro was aware of why we ended up in a shady, little izakaya then after all. The mood in here was smooth and slick like honey and had claimed a similar colour, too. Everything glowed and shone like dipped in golden sun rays; staff raced from one end to the other and old sararī man dressed in black sat there after their long work day either depressed or laughing about nothing of importance with their colleagues.
Had Colin cut me out of a night full of good sex or had he appeared at exactly the right moment for me to realise that what I had been about to do was a huge mistake? I just knew that Hiro was pissed that he couldn’t touch me this way nor be close to me. I felt his unsure glances and saw his pouts and heard his sighs but I didn’t feel like comforting him. I was in a God damn awful bad mood.
“Who was that guy anyway?”
I hesitated before trying to answer his question. I didn’t quite know where to start with this, honestly. I didn’t feel like responding but thought he deserved as much. “Met him in London. We had a thing back then. But he hadn’t contacted me until now.”
I searched his face for a fitting reaction but to my own surprise he didn’t seem to be taken aback in the slightest. He had his sleeves rolled and his elbows propped up on the table but much to my dismay I realised that it didn’t quite have the same effect like when Colin did it. “I thought you’d wanted to be more careful? Shagging a random bloke you find on the streets doesn’t sound like it.”
“Shh,” I reprimanded him, even though I knew no one paid attention or could even hear us, the music and chatter was just too loud. It still felt bad talking about such a private matter in public. “He didn’t know me and London is about as far away as Narnia. I call that careful enough.”
“Guys always think with their dicks, honestly,” he rolled his eyes and I laughed.
“You’re one to talk. What did you think we’d be doing tonight?”
Hiro shrugged nonchalantly in front of me but I could sense a fleeting smile on his lips nonetheless. He was a brat indeed, one of the worst I had ever encountered and he was immature and quite childish every now and then. But at times like these, when he acted all-knowing and almost sophisticated, I always ended up feeling astonished. I guessed sometimes I just wanted him to stay this cute, little boy that did not know any better as to be jealous and clingy all the time to the point of enraging me forever – so I could go on telling myself that he was just a toy for me to play with and nothing more. But I did have to own up to the fact that he was growing up and developing all the while. He was no child anymore and of course he wanted me to know.
“Yeah,” he went on, his eyes avoiding mine. A sip from his beer. Then he bit his lip. “Of course. We’ve been flirting the whole time. I’d much rather be somewhere else right now.”
I nodded and searched for his hands on the table but did not dare to touch them in the end. He was a good person. I did like him. He was not a toy. But he also didn’t make my mind go crazy and my heart desperate. I myself still didn’t know what I was going after. I could, here and now, settle for Colin. But then what would I decide on exactly? Surely not to be with him, right? Even if he’d wanted to be in a relationship with me, even if – how would that even work? It wouldn’t. So I was at a loss for words and actions, I realised. It did not matter. It did not matter at all.
“I like you, Hiro-Chan, you know I do,” I tried to console him the only way I knew as I reached for his hands after all and he flinched at my touch, startled, “but it wouldn’t be anything more for me, I’m afraid. I don’t love you.”
I watched him nod lazily but understandingly, his eyes still not meeting mine but at least he didn’t pull his hands away. So we sat like this for a while, not exchanging any words or glances. I guessed he needed this to calm down and collect himself and eventually he came to.
“You know? I really needed to hear that, thank you,” Hiroki mused and finally he lifted his gaze but drew his hands away from under mine. “I’ve known that of course. Didn’t want to believe it, however,” he laughed a short lived laugh but it was full of genuine warmth and so I smiled, too.
“It’s been years since we last came together, though,” I tried to make him remember.
“Oh, we came all right.” A wide grin on his lips that gradually evolved into a full-on laugh and I just had to chime in. A boy at heart, always.
“Would you please stop being so suggestive in public,” I told him off with a flicker in my eyes and a smile upon my lips still; the tension in the air rose again from out of nowhere. He was my ex after all. There’d always be this special kind of connection.
He then fell silent for a few minutes and was suddenly eager to empty his glass. I saw it in his face that he thought about us and our affair back in the day. His ears grew hot. “I don’t need to hear I-love-you’s. And I don’t need to know which guy you’re seeing. But I am still serious about earlier. I want to come home with you.”
“I– Hiroki, I don’t know,” I followed my first reflex because I knew I shouldn’t but then I awoke to the whole situation at hand and everything fell into place. Colin had come here to seek me out, yes. But it had been half a year at least since we’d last seen each other. He couldn’t leave London, I couldn’t leave Japan. Even if those feelings were real – No, it definitely was better to let them fade away. “You know what? Yes. My place is not far away. Let’s go.”
***
At first it was kind of awkward to let him inside my flat and close the door behind us. I’d moved since we’d broken up, so he’d never been here before. My dogs were currently at a friend’s who sometimes took care of them when I was away for longer periods of time, so there was no one and nothing at all greeting us but an uncomfortable silence.
I watched him look around the apartment curiously like a cautious cat. It was big for Japan’s standards but not as much for Tokyo’s. That should explain him being impressed, at least a bit.
“It appears you have good taste after all,” he commented cheekily as he turned around with one of his dazzling grins.
My living room was bright and mainly ruled by colour combinations of wood brown, white, grey and black. There were lots of little indirect lights and a huge glass front on one side, covered with white curtains but you could still see the colourful glow of the city below us. As much as I loved touring and seeing so much of the world, I adored being home – I just felt at ease here.
“You’re here with me, I suppose that counts for some,” I purred in his ear after I had closed the short distance between us and rested my underarms on his shoulders. He seemed intrigued and melted into my touch exactly the proper way I needed him to this moment. He still smelled sweet and familiar; a touch of a bitter alcoholic aroma in between. I grazed his ears with my lips tenderly. “How do you want me to take you?”
Suddenly the awkwardness disappeared and sparks full of electricity filled the room. It was like back then once more and all the memories came rushing back. It felt so natural and easy to touch him again and to feel his warmth. I was hot all over and it reached my throat and neck and ears. I could feel him shiver beneath my hands and every thought of any other person in this moment was just gone.
He gasped for air and I felt him brush through my locks nervously. It had been so long that it almost felt like the first time all over again. Like our first encounter. Unsure and tentative but also full of hot want and arousal. A step forward and I could feel his hard dick pressing into my thigh again.
“You decide–“ His soft voice broke. “I want you to decide.”
This was the code word, really. Hiro didn’t want to have vanilla sex, which we had had occasionally. He wanted me to lead, to dominate him. And I had missed it so much that I had forgotten about this special longing for it altogether. I had enjoyed being called “princess” by Colin, I wouldn’t deny that by any means. But Hiroki was such a perfect little sub that my lungs felt like inhaling fire and smoke right now. It burned inside of me, this desire, and so I snapped and pulled him into my bedroom before pushing him down onto the bed in front of me.
“Clothes off.”
The lights in here weren’t turned on but there was still a shimmer coming in from the living room; it was just about bright enough for me to observe Hiro’s facial expressions closely.
He obliged immediately and pulled off his hoodie and pants without a word; his shoes already discarded somewhere along the way. Now he was sitting there in front of me; only in his briefs and panting softly with arousal tainting his breath.
“You know better than that,” I scolded him with this strict tone in my voice I had honestly missed using the last couple of years. “All clothes off.”
He held my gaze and I could see a flicker of nervousness in his eyes, but in the end he did as he was told and finally sat there naked. The fine mist of light made his skin look amber coloured and so exposed. His stiff cock pressed against his stomach; twitching beautifully whenever my eyes fell upon it. I myself finally felt the heat rise in the pit of my stomach and it became hard to contain myself. I wanted to push and break him; to pull him to the edge and leave him there. To suck up every breath he offered me and let him beg for more.
“You feel safe now, princess? I swear you won’t do so for much longer.” With my right hand I pushed him onto the bed by his chest and held him there with all my strength as he gasped delightfully for air. Our noses almost touched and I inhaled his breath but I didn’t lean down far enough to kiss him; not yet.
Then I got up again and opened the fly of my jeans; pulled the fabric down and felt the rush of cold air on my cock. I hadn’t been this excited for a long time. And even if this didn’t mean anything, it still felt so dangerously good. I wanted him all over me and hear his pleas and moans. And right this moment I knew why I had once loved fucking him.
“Get on your fucking knees, you little slut,” I ordered him with a cold stare and again, he obliged without a word.
I felt his body heat on my own skin as he tested the waters with light touches and careful fingertips. I didn’t want him to, however, and so I quickly decided on using a rope to tie his hands on his back. I grabbed it from out of my nightstand, which I hadn’t used in a long, long while, and when I stood in front of him again he knew fair well what I was about to do.
“Get up and turn around.”
He did as he was told, heart beating fast and loud in his chest, and I tied up his skinny arms. He drew in a breath sharply since I might have laced it up a tad too tight but I did not care and neither did he. Then I ordered him back on his knees again.
Now that he was kneeling there like a good little boy, my heart skipped a beat at the mere sight of it. His eyes shimmered beautifully as if he’d tear up any moment and his mouth was opened invitingly. I tenderly traced his lips with my thumb and he closed his eyes in response; relishing in this feeling I was gracing him with. I could not wait to feel his warm mouth finally engulfing me again. Feeling his tongue and throat and seeing him gasping for air in desperation.
“Suck my dick until it’s wet.”
Seeing that he almost immediately leaned forward to lick at my cock and sigh in pleasure at the first taste, I concluded that he had to have waited for this moment for a lot longer than I had even. Almost as if he was made solely for this purpose alone. He did not flinch when I pushed my groin closer to his face and he did not care about getting saliva all over his face. I missed him worshipping my cock so badly.
I combed through his brown, soft hair delicately and closed my eyes for a few seconds; just savouring every little twitch and flicker that shot through my body like an inferno. But suddenly I was back at the hotel in London again and sensed Colin’s hands over my torso and backside; his breath wafting over my shaft and his grin wide and teasing on my skin.
I opened up my eyes again and decided that it was enough. My heart beat way too fast for my tastes. “Open up your pretty mouth.”
Again, he did as he was told and watched me intently as I pushed myself past his lips. He wheezed and I groaned and then he finally began sucking on my dick for real. It felt heavenly. He knew exactly what to do, even after so many years. Even with his hands tied back. He was completely wrapped up in it; as though this here was his only remaining purpose and I could not even begin to describe how lovely he looked right this second.
With my hands still in his hair, I held his head steady and tried a few careful thrusts which he took in gladly and with ease. Sometimes I thought he’d been born without a gag reflex and this thought enticed me immensely. I could not hold back my moans any longer and so my pace grew faster, more rapid and careless. But he still took me in so willingly; his eyes were closed and there was a precious tint of pink on his flushed cheeks. Not once did he gag as I pressed myself deeper and deeper and oh fuck, it felt so heavenly. A fire in the pit of my stomach that gradually spread through my whole body.
This lasted for a few minutes and while I was enjoying it to the fullest, it was still not quite enough. He’d once told me that he loved face-fucking the most out of everything. To let someone use him like that was his greatest bliss and that thought turned me on even more. I was now pressed inside his mouth as far as it would go, he’d taken me all in and I saw in his eyes that he was struggling to breathe, so I let go of him and pulled out my wet cock. He immediately gasped and heaved and panted in distress, pain and lust after I’d pulled out and I watched him for a few seconds until he had regained his composure, then I stroked his cheek.
“Will you be a good boy and climb onto the bed?”
Just as before, Hiro only nodded, swallowed hard and then obeyed without a word. With his hands still tied behind his back and his backside facing me, he waited for me a bit awkwardly. I knew that he would be so deliciously tight this way. But then I noticed something silvery and shiny between his butt cheeks and stopped slightly baffled in my tracks before breaking out into short laughter.
“Are you serious?” I chuckled as I touched the base of the steel butt plug he’d apparently inserted earlier himself. He shuddered. “When did that happen?”
“I– When I know that I’ll be seeing you … sometimes I do that,” he admitted with a shy, almost unnoticeable voice. And now it was I who had to gasp for air.
Of course I didn’t know. But thinking about all the times we’d briefly met at concerts and festivals over the past few years! I had a feeling that I should probably punish him for that but it turned me on so much that I swallowed this first urge down. “Like back then …”
“Like back then.”
I heard my own breathing ringing in my ears as I felt myself snap again; there was the end of my tether once more. He just had this strange power over me that made me someone I could not recognise at times. It wasn’t anger and it wasn’t aversion but it did make me have a short fuse. Sometimes these feelings deep in my stomach scared me; they sat low and growled and were like a fire pit inside of me. I wanted to hurt him, just a little. Just to show that I was still in charge here. And so I pressed his upper body harder down onto the bed, he yelped softly in surprise. Then I leaned close to his ear.
“You know you shouldn’t have done that.”
He nodded.
“You know I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you won’t be thinking of wearing that the next
few weeks.”
Again, a nod from him.
I pulled off my shirt with one hand a bit clumsily and walked to the bedside table to get out some lube and a condom. Hiroki remained as frozen in this position as possible; only his chest rose and fell from his shallow breathing. He looked to be as eager as I felt. It’d been so long for me and I hadn’t asked him how long it’d been for him.
As I was standing right behind him again, I stroked his back lightly and drowned in this sight. My cock twitched and I slowly exhaled thinking about what was coming next. I missed seeing him so ready and needy in front of me; just waiting for my cock and orders and insults. Only last time he had talked back more fervently. So I put on the condom and applied some lube with slow strokes; tilting back my head, I felt all those lights and flashes roar through my body. I let out a low sigh and a smile escaped my quivering lips.
I wanted him; here and now. Or maybe I just wanted this intimate and mundane feeling of the time we once had. I would be lying when I said I did not think about Colin once.
“You want my cock, right?” I asked him and began rubbing myself against his bum; spreading lube everywhere. Right in front of me, Hiro nodded again. “Tell me how much you want my cock.”
A short unsure silence followed suit. I knew he was still horny as fuck and I could see his hard cock twitch between his legs because he knew I was watching him closely. He liked me watching him in these awkward positions because it embarrassed him and all I ever wanted was to fuck this humiliation out of him. After I had inflicted it upon him, of course.
“I want you to fill me up,” he croaked out in response after a while; his voice rich of both shakiness and arousal. It made me so high to think about how he couldn’t touch himself in this position – a game we’d played so often before but it never got old. He wanted to feel so defenceless and totally at my mercy, he wanted me to lead him and tell him what to do. That was why we were so perfect for one another. Like two puzzle pieces. I loved all of the sensations he made me feel. But it was just a game and nothing more. “Please. Take me.”
“You know I won’t untie your hands this time,” I purred from behind him as I reached for the base of the butt plug and began pulling it out slowly but probably still a tad too fast for his taste because I heard him exhale sharply in response. But the thing was: I did not care at all in this moment. He loved pain and pain I gave him. “You can beg for it, though.”
The thought of him wearing the plug all day, and only for me on top of that, just because he’d imagined being fucked by me again, had me almost go up in flames right then and there. He was ready to use, just like that. And though it felt somehow weird to have no bodily reaction from him, no real passion with body pressing against body and lips against lips, I knew that he loved it this way, too. Taking him against the wall or even entangled lying on the bed on top of each other would feel neither right nor genuine coming from me and he knew it. For Christ’s sake, it’d stir up his hopes all over again would we have done it any differently.
I felt his body shiver beneath my hands that graced the soft skin on his back; followed my fingertip down his spine with my eyes and counted every vertebra until I had found this one birthmark my hand finally stopped at. The lust in the air was so thick it felt hard to breathe and I knew he longed to be fucked. I bet his hole started to feel so empty and was aching for more. And so I gripped his hips tightly and guided my cock inside of him.
Finally, the blissful feeling of warm tightness surrounding me. For a moment, time stood still and I could hear nothing anymore; no sounds reached my ears and only after that did I realise that I had begun to groan loudly.
I knew Hiro was wheezing down there and trying to steady his breath after I’d just thrusted in without any warning and without concerning myself with being gentle. But it just felt so good and once again, I did not care. I was already up in him as far as it would go; right up to my throbbing balls. The plain sight of it was dangerously exciting. How he swallowed me whole. And I was not the smallest guy by any means.
Hiro panted; his breathing shallow and heavy on his tongue. His needy voice, that I had missed so much, made my dick twitch inside of him and he shuddered delightfully in response. I grinned. “You’ve missed that, right?”
Hiro nodded well-behaved; his skin now hot to the touch. It had always felt kind of evil; kind of dirty – to fuck your friend’s younger brother without him knowing. Without anyone knowing and with said brother loving it with every fibre of his quivering body. How he could beg for more and take so much in and be such a good little fuck but play the lady killer in public. It made my heart jump. Right here, this mattered. This and nothing else. Then I slowly started to move inside of him and he exhaled in surprise and everything else was again dissolved into nothingness.
He was so tight and so wet from the lube and I could feel my fingertips boiling with my heartbeat pulsating in them as he tried to push himself back against my cock; to meet my thrusts in between the best he could with his hands still tied back. He wanted more as it obviously didn’t hurt him yet enough. I drew in a breath sharply.
“Have I permitted you to move?” I grunted and was almost alarmed by how foreign, threatening and deep my voice sounded. I held his hips steady and rushed a few times forward at a rapid speed that made the back of my head grow cloudy. It was all too much; the pressure, this sight of him, the feeling of using him, the power, the familiarity, his scent. I just wanted to fuck him senseless until he could not even beg anymore. He deserved it, he so totally did. He was everything I could concentrate on right this second and it felt weirdly freeing after all these months of longing.
“No, I’m sorry.” His voice was still shaky and breathless but he could still moan and sigh rhythmically to my long, hard thrusts. His arching back was a lovely sight to behold but still not quite enough for me. I wanted to look him in his cloudy eyes and watch him coming; to see his stiff cock rock back and forth without getting touched.
“Thought as much.” Losing the rhythm for a moment, I grabbed his shoulder and turned him around abruptly with one single but harsh motion after I had pulled out of him. The moment he realised that his back had suddenly collided with the mattress was so pleasing; the brief shock reflected in his amber coloured eyes made the smirk on my lips grew even wider.
There he lay on his back in front of me in the dim lit, much too warm room. Helpless. Exposed. And oh so pretty. His arms still tied up behind his back had to have hurt under his weight in such an awkward position but as long as I carried out my threat and fucked him mercilessly, there was no way he would complain. He knew fair well what he had gotten himself into tonight.
I watched as he parted his lips slightly but didn’t dare say anything before I slid inside his warm tightness again. The high it got me was beyond any words. I felt myself closing my eyes instinctively because the sensation was just too overpowering.
Not shorty after did I begin pressing into him relentlessly and without sympathy. I heard him whimper and cry and little sobs leave his wet mouth. Eyes closed. Back arched. His balls were so hard and tight and didn’t look like they could last any longer; the dark red tip of his cock gleaming with pre-cum. But the desperation in his hooded eyes when partly opened was the absolute greatest of it all. His head jerked backwards every time I thrust into him and it made him look like a pretty little doll.
Somewhere along the line our breathing began matching each other’s and I lost track of my heartbeat in my ears. All I could see was him. It made my heart so full and contented I swear it felt like bursting out of my chest. But I also felt myself growing more impatient and accelerated and I made sure to let him know. His eyes seemed to beg for more and I could not wait to give it to him.
“You love being used like that, princess?” I hummed in a sweet honey-like voice and took his breath away with a few unreasonably hard thrusts. Hiro nodded weakly; the blush on his cheeks not leaving the shadow of his nose even once. I could see him break into little pieces and it made my insides tingle.
“I can’t hold it any longer …”
But it wasn’t a plea; it wasn’t enough despair for me to actually meet him halfway. He knew I wanted to hear more than that. This wasn’t our first time but I was so close to coming. “Say that again,” I threatened him and gripped his neck tightly. He struggled to breathe.
“Please, Masato … please.”
“What ‘please’?” I growled and ripped his head back by his hair. A chocked howl from his mouth; eyes squeezed shut. He loved every second of it. “Use your fucking mouth.”
For a second I thought he had started to cry for real. The sobs on his tongue sounded so delightful. I wanted more of that noise he made; see him in even more pain and pleasure at the same time. “Please let me come, please. I can’t–“
I couldn’t take it anymore. It was all too much. He looked so fucking pretty bound and gagged with despair and helpless like this. A single tear rolled down his cheek but I knew it was just pure lust and ache for a final release. I didn’t feel it when I picked up the speed a tad too fast and he didn’t, either. In and out and bliss and sparks in front of my eyes and in my veins. Somewhere along I had started to stroke his dick half-heartedly and knew that it was both not enough and that it had to be sufficient all at once. Our groaning echoed in the bedroom but it was hard to care. Let the neighbours hear it, whatever.
Close to the edge, I leaned forward over his bound body; a few hard, fast thrusts and I was almost there. I was aware that I grazed the soft and sensitive skin of his hard cock in the process. This had to be enough for him; no more fucks to give. He knew what he’d gotten himself into after all. A kiss. Tongues, hot breath, a moan swallowed down from his wet, shaking lips. Warmth, explosion. And something wet spreading between our bodies.
Chapter 02
It had been awkward at first to untie him and clean up the mess we’d made in a bit of a silent contemplative manner but in the end we had pulled ourselves together. Sobered up. I didn’t regret doing this. It had been fun and we’d both definitely enjoyed it. Just gone with the flow and how everything would have played out naturally anyway. We were both adults and responsible for our actions and we wouldn’t have changed anything. It was just that I felt this deep heartache right beneath my rib cage slowly but surely crawling inside my lungs and I just wasn’t able to mend it.
None of us smoked at the window in the dark.
“You don’t regret this now, do you?”
His unsure voice came from somewhere behind me and spoke out exactly what bothered my troubled mind. I knew he’d preferred resting in my arms but I honestly didn’t feel like it and he didn’t complain. “Of course I don’t. It was fun. But it was obviously the last time for real.”
“No need to justify,” he mumbled but without seeing his face I could not determine if he truly meant it. Then a rustling of fabric and footsteps. Careful fingertips on my naked skin, caressing my back and hips. “We’ll put it down to a last goodbye for old times’ sake.”
It ought to have been quite the funny picture really – both of us looking so irrevocably lost and butt-naked in the doorway to my living room; hesitant to say or do anything wrong. The lights were far too bright and I would have loved to turn them off and just go to sleep.
“Thank you for taking me with you tonight, anyway.” As if on cat paws, Hiroki sneaked past me and came to a halt in front of my restless toes. Suddenly right then and there I could not manage to avoid his eyes any longer. They shimmered black in the dim lit room. Then he kissed me gently on the lips; his hands lingering on my neck and jaw but they felt so awfully broken on my skin somehow. It really felt like a goodbye. He was such a sweet boy but I hadn’t experienced anything more than lust with him and I was so sick and tired of feeling only lust. “Masato, I can’t change the fact that you don’t love me. And I’m sure it’s for the best if we don’t meet again. I just hope that you’ll find the one.”
“That’s way too mature, especially coming from you,” I snorted amused but gave him a quick appeasing kiss on his nose nonetheless. I could hear it echo in his cracked voice – that he just wanted to trigger a certain reaction from me. “I mean … such a cliché. I don’t think I’d be able to say anything like that–” to the guy I’m in love with.
“I’m right, though, aren’t I?”
I nodded and strolled past him into the kitchen to pour myself and him a glass of water. Normally I loved late night after-sex conversations but this one required digging so far into my soul that I felt the itch for cutting it off immediately deep in my bones. “You’re probably not wrong.”
“Do you think he means it?”
“Mean what?”
Hiroki leaned on the kitchen counter and watched me intently as I shoved a glass into his hand. “You haven’t heard from him in months and now he appears out of nowhere just like that?”
I shrugged and downed my drink in one go so that I didn’t need to answer him right away. Suddenly I felt the need to drink even more. Maybe another beer or two.
“Will you hear him out?”
“Christ, Hiroki, I don’t know yet,” I spat out and felt sorry for the harsh tone in my voice immediately after. But I did not apologise and instead opted for a calmer way of speaking when I opened my mouth again after that. “I thought you’d quit being jealous?”
The little boy in front of me took a deliberate sip from his glass; his eyes were cast over. I didn’t mean to be selfish or nasty to him in any way but I was also losing my patience. That little bit I’d had in the beginning, anyway. It was getting late and after the orgasm had subsided, there was nothing but numbness in its wake. That was almost always the case, anyway … when you’ve been basing your feelings on lust and passion – there was just nothing to replace it once the craving was gone.
“I’m not jealous, I’m serious. I care about you.”
“Yeah, would you mind and let me make my own mistakes, please?”
I slammed the glass relatively hard onto the counter, maybe a tad too hard because Hiro flinched right as my gaze fell on him. That anger from earlier had not left; quite the opposite had happened, honestly. And I shouldn’t be surprised. “Sorry, Hiro. I don’t wanna kick you out so late at night … but I think it’d be best if you go.”
“Okay,” he spat and his glass followed suit. “It’s totally fine if you’re angry at him or yourself but don’t take it out on me, seriously. I don’t know what you want from him, but London sure as hell seems to be as far away as fucking Narnia.”
Without another word Hiro left to get his things from the bedroom. It took him a short while to get dressed in silence but to me it felt like mere seconds. I was left a bit dumbfounded behind the kitchen counter and stared at the counter with our two glasses on top of it. I just couldn’t manage to lift my head to watch him leave but then the door already slammed shut with a rather loud bang and I was left alone again with my thoughts, still butt-naked.
***
It had been a few days and I still had not called. I couldn’t explain it but for some reason, whenever I was about to dial his number, my mind went totally blank. I didn’t know what to say or how to react. At times I didn’t even know what I wanted in the first place. The reason for calling him, for having his number. I didn’t even know if he was still in Japan. I could figure it out easily, of course. Just text him and get it over with but I just didn’t. And maybe I should listen to my gut feeling this time around.
I had typed and deleted a fair amount of messages already like some sort of schoolgirl cliché but it didn’t change the fact that I could not make out whether contacting him was the right thing to do or would get me into even more heartache trouble. So I kept on doing that for a few more days for good measure.
»Hey, Colin. Sorry for taking so long. Had to think. Didn’t want to call you. I miss you. You’re still in Japan? Masato.«
The last message I tried to send but didn’t, again, because I reconsidered the whole thing and threw the phone into the next corner where it landed somewhere next to me on the sofa. I sighed and rubbed my eyes with both hands. Tour was over, album released, interviews given. Suddenly I had all this free time on my hands and I didn’t know what to do with all of it. I felt overwhelmed if anything. This ringing aimlessness you get after you’d been studying for weeks on edge for an important exam and suddenly it’s over and it’s like you don’t exist any longer. I felt like crawling back into my little hole and don’t emerge again until next spring. Hibernate. And maybe all those problems would magically go away … a man can dream, right?
The thing with remaining in that state was that you didn’t get a single thing done. You’d either want to go big or go home and in my case I’d much rather stay in bed. So even the little things felt like a huge burden; doing the dishes, going for a walk with my dogs, even showering. I didn’t see the point but forced myself to do all of it anyway. I’d had been so fucking busy the past few months that it hadn’t been all that bad – this longing for Colin. But now it had come back full force. Seeing that I didn’t even feel like watching a film, I started googling weird shit and ended up typing in his name.
I mean, what could go wrong, right?
The first few pages were Wikipedia and IMBd; no sign of him on social media at all. Even though I’d known that already of course. Then I spotted a short video clip advertised on Google which looked to be a Trailer of a recent film. Of course I hadn’t heard about it and I hadn’t kept up with anything work related. I’d never actually thought about watching any of his films or shows. Strange? Maybe. Maybe it was because I’d find that kind of weird, too … if it was the other way around. But in the end my curiosity got the best of me and I clicked on the link.
However … to my absolute horror, I quickly realised that it was actually a gay romance and so I panicked after the first few seconds and paused it again. If I hadn’t lost my breath so very spectacularly that I spontaneously choked and had to cough, I probably would have laughed about these ironic circumstances. Once that was done, I buried my face in my hands to calm down my ridiculous bastard of a heart. I hadn’t watched him kill a person, so why could I not take it? Yeah, I had not expected anything like that but even I knew that I was being ridiculous.
“Christ, you’re absurd,” I mumbled to myself and took another deep breath before starting the video again. This time determined to watch it till the end. Hardly two minutes. I could take that …
It was not half as bad as I thought it would be. I did not feel like it was me in there, getting to know him, fortunately. I did not feel like suddenly all the world knew what I was up to. And good thing I didn’t feel any jealousy watching him kiss and shag another guy in front of me. At all. The dialogue was funny and realistic even and once I’d adjusted seeing him like that, I could let my guard down and enjoy looking at his face on screen. It still felt foreign, however. Like having met him had just been a dream after all. Because at the end of the day, let’s face it, I didn’t truly know him and this person on screen was not the Colin I had met. It was yet another figure, someone who was not him but looked it. It was like we had never met at all. The person in that film, Benjamin, was so painfully awkward that I couldn’t seem to connect the dots between him and Colin. He was a good actor. Colin had been rough and well-spoken and bold; so very witty at times that I could not handle him. He’d been huge confident smiles and perceptive touches. But he was oh-so beautiful still, I felt myself swoon and shivers run down my spine. The tips of my ears felt very hot all of a sudden.
Yeah … I should have known that that was a definite way of remembering how we ended up in bed. These days I stopped myself from even acknowledging the fact because it distracted me on such a high level that I did not seem to be able to function any longer. Up until this point, I had refrained from going any further, clicking through seas of pictures and videos; dwelling in past memories and letting the waves wash me away. But this time there was no one stopping me any longer, especially not me and I felt this massive wall that had held onto all of these feelings and it was crumbling fast.
“God, I should not be doing this,” I mumbled to myself and a hot sigh escaped my lips.
In front of me were all the pictures that came up when you typed in his name. Old and pretty recent ones too, it seemed. His eyes were drawing me in and his smile made my heart sink to the bottom of my stomach. All of a sudden I felt his hands everywhere on my body; felt his itching stare and heard his honey-deep voice in my ears. His scratchy beard stubble rubbing my skin a rosy red. I remembered how it was like combing my fingers through his dark hair and how his breath touched my skin ever so lightly.
I searched for that one picture that made me go hot all over but instead clicked on the recommendation that added “body” to the mix and suddenly he was almost naked on most of them. A few weren’t him and some were obviously manipulations but the others caught me totally off-guard. It just added to my memories and imaginations; I could feel my fingers on his skin and rock-hard abs. I was kind of skinny too but I certainly wasn’t as buff as he was, which was funny when you thought about it. He didn’t look the type at all. His face was sort of androgynous and his smiles were open, warm and pretty. You could spend all those hours watching his lips move and being hypnotised by his lake blue eyes … so that you’d never guess what he hid underneath that sweater.
A rugged breath tumbled over my dry lips like an old elevator stopping in its tracks. I had been so frozen in shock and pure bliss that I had forgotten what it was like to breathe through my nose and to wet my lips. The laptop sat on my lap a bit uncomfortably, so I pushed it a few inches away towards my knees. It was easy, drowning in this sea of feelings and shivers if I only let myself. Lust drunken, I slid my hand over my clothed chest lazily down towards where my jeans sat loosely on my hips. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears already and the cold air hurt weirdly in my nose when I inhaled.
He was everything and nothing in my mind right now and that was all that mattered right this second. Different to how I felt when I was with Hiroki. A different kind of pain and a different kind of mind numbness. I liked this one a lot better. I wasn’t angry anymore and I didn’t do this out of spite; it was a kind of bitter-sweet longing and pain deep in my chest. A kind of pain you wanted more of.
It felt heavenly when I touched my hard dick through the fabric of my jeans. I quickly opened the fly and reached inside to adjust it so that it wouldn’t be as uncomfortable anymore. I felt kinda bad that I was about to get off to one of his pictures. But then again … would he mind? It also felt kinda off-limits. Something you don’t do but kind of wished that he’d know about. That he’d watch you jerk off to his face. Something I wouldn’t want him to find out and yet … it was hot.
I first thought about only getting my dick out – low effort – but then I reconsidered and got rid of my jeans and briefs at once. It just felt better and I could relax. I sighed as I fantasised about what it would be like to get rid of all this fabric covering him still and stroking his broad chest. Instead I finally grabbed my cock in a firm grip. I felt my knees weaken the moment I touched myself. It wasn’t the fact that it had been too long for me, it obviously hadn’t. But it was different getting off on the thought of him. It was a different feeling and a different orgasm. I tried thinking about his deep voice and the commands he’d give me; about the belittling but loving names he’d call me. The strength with which he’d pin me down. With him, I just wanted to lose all control and give him all my “yes’s” that I had to offer, not the other way around.
Even though it wasn’t that warm in my apartment, my breath left my tongue boiling hot and little shivers almost had me taken off my shirt as well. I watched my hand tug at my dick and wished it was him all the while studying the hair on his chest and his deep set eyes on those photos. I felt my breath become rapid and my movements faster. It was like a rush; all lights out. My vision grew blurry and I closed my eyes–
But then my phone rang.
“Fuck,” I blurted out, totally startled by the horrifyingly loud sound of the device. I thought I had muted it but here we were – a ringing phone and my dick still rock-hard.
I wasn’t one to ditch a call and it would have felt wrong to ignore it and continue on with my endeavours unperturbed … so I frantically tried to calm down my breathing and my overwhelmed heart and blindly fished for my phone. Why on earth now? I didn’t know any better, I was just so startled and felt eerily caught red-handed. I didn’t even think about checking the caller’s ID or bothering with polite etiquette and just straight up answered the call crimson-faced and hoped the other person wouldn’t notice.
“–Moshi moshi …”
There was a long pause at the other end of the line, and then someone cleared his throat.
“Masato, is that you?”
“I–”
I had to swallow a huge lump in my throat twice before I could muster up the courage to say anything that made sense. I knew I wasn’t dreaming, I was sure this was Colin, it had to be …
“Yes. Sorry, who are you again?”
Had to ask. Just for the record. His accent was as thick as ever and the tone in his deep voice sent shivers down my spine. My cock wasn’t hard anymore after this mess but I sure as hell felt ridiculously pitiful with my butt and junk out like that, answering calls from basically strangers.
“Er … it’s Colin. Sorry. Your sudden Japanese messed with my ability to form coherent sentences.”
Yeah. Here I was; sitting like a huge loser naked on my couch and trying not to let him hear my agitated inhales and exhales of far too dangerously needed air. I hadn’t noticed that I had smacked my free hand on my face to prevent him from seeing it, which he obviously couldn’t anyway. Hopefully.
“I–” Again, the sheer loss of my words was astounding. He had to have thought I’d lost every trait of a normal human being. “Sorry, Colin, give me a moment …”
I just couldn’t sit here like that and talk to him as if nothing had ever happened. So I quickly searched for my briefs and pants and put them on before picking up the phone again; this time a little less embarrassed. It made things at least a bit more bearable under these circumstances.
“So, here we are …”
“Yes, I suppose so …”
“How are you calling?”
“How? …I don’t understand.”
I listened to him breathe calmly on the other end of the line. There were no other noises besides our silence, so he had to be somewhere private. Maybe at home even.
“I mean … how did you get my number?” I whispered as though somebody could hear us after all. It didn’t even feel real. Awkward. We’d never talked on the phone before; it had been months before I’d seen him again a few days ago. I didn’t know how to shake this unpleasant feeling off of me.
“You … did send me a message earlier, didn’t you?”
Oh no. Oh no. I couldn’t quite tell him that I hadn’t intended to send it to him, could I?
“Er … yes. I guess so. Yeah …”
Stupid fucking Irish bastard. Even if I’d sent it knowingly – I hadn’t expected him to go full-on nuts and call me right away?! In which world was that acceptable? I scratched my head nervously and waited for his next move. I was honestly as awkward as the next guy in real life, especially in situations I’m thrown into just like that. So this could only get progressively worse.
“I’m sorry if my call took you by surprise. It’s just … I really did miss you, too. And I’d thought about you when I got your message. So I just called.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just didn’t say anything at all. I couldn’t tell if this ache in my stomach was the result of me being happy or not being able to accept what was happening. Maybe I was just weary; suspicious. I couldn’t see through him and it bothered me.
“I’m still in Japan, by the way …”
Obviously, I was still attracted to him. Or else this encounter wouldn’t have been so damn awkward on my side. I wouldn’t have searched for a picture to jerk off to. And if I’d been more careful, I probably wouldn’t have sent the message by accident.
But I just couldn’t bring out a word, so I heard him sigh in the background. “Listen … I’m really sorry for what happened. I can’t make you fancy me and I’d understand if it’s been too long since then. We only hooked up once after all. It’s crazy to act like that after a One-Night-Stand.”
I frantically searched for anything that caught my attention and glued me into place. Anything that could tell me what to say next. What to think next. But I couldn’t find anything. Couldn’t think of a single argument. The room was bright from the shadows of the day and white and grey and black. My dogs were asleep. And the couch beneath me felt far too firm. It was so hard to concentrate. There had been a time when I’d known what I wanted to say to him but it was all gone now. “I’m honestly so bad at this on the phone. You’re still in Japan? Then let’s meet up.”
Breathing on the other end. I couldn’t believe what I had just blurted out and so I bit my lip so hard I didn’t feel the ache anymore after a short second. I knew it was silly worrying about his response when it was him calling me and telling me that he missed me. I just couldn’t help it.
“Yes,” he responded at last and I could hear him ponder over my rushed words. “Yes, let’s do that.”
***
We decided to meet up in Sakae this evening when the sun had already set and had left us with a dark cloak of anonymity. The lights were flashing bright and the laughter of cheerful night owls lay thickly in the early autumn air. That’s why I wanted to meet him in the Sakae Park instead. It wasn’t big or anything, but at least it wasn’t that far away from Sakaemachi Station but also not directly next to Kibo no hiroba, Oasis 21 or Nagoya terebi tō. Sakae was, after all, a busy downtown area and lively throughout the night. But I honestly felt more comfortable talking with him here. Not at home. Not at another Izakaya. It was dark and late and most people chose going shopping or doing karaoke over strolling through a dimly lit park in the middle of the night.
Nervously, I clutched my grey coat closer to my body and pulled my baseball cap down low over my face. It wasn’t that tremendously cold yet but this mild uneasiness in my bones made my whole frame shake and shiver. I was sitting on a small wooden bench and waited for my heart to calm down. Why did it feel like meeting an ex in order to sort out confused feelings after a nasty breakup? Something inside my head tried to tell me that it would go away eventually. I should ignore it. But acknowledging his sudden appearance made it far too real all of a sudden and my feelings started to bubble up inside of me uncontrollably.
I put up my hands to my face to breathe on them; warming them up. They were ice cold. And my heart raced for miles. My feet wouldn’t hold still. Each and every little noise startled me. I was on high alert and I hated myself for acting so childishly. That I couldn’t control my emotions at all. We’d played at the Budokan. We’d made it. Friends, family and other bands we were close friends with came to congratulate us. There were flowers and cards and it was filmed. We’d truly made it in Japan. You know you’d made it when you’d played at the Budokan. We’d accomplished so many truly insane things. We were in our 30’s. But I guess there was still something missing …
“Masato?”
When I looked up, Colin squinted down at me. I couldn’t quite see it in the dark – only the back of his head was illuminated by the street lights and made his face appear even darker – but I’d thought I’d seen a small smile.
“Hi,” I replied as I got up somewhat hesitantly. But there was nothing to wait for. I couldn’t exactly stay here on this bench. The greeting was awkward and it seemed like we both didn’t know what to say or do. I didn’t shake his hand and I sure as hell didn’t try to hug him. He didn’t, either. He had to have been warry after our last meeting. Couldn’t blame him.
“Wasn’t so hard to get here, was it?”
“No,” he shook his head accompanied by the thick accent in his dark voice. Again, a shiver ran down my spine and let the little hairs all over my body stand on end. He was taller than me still, of course, and in the blurry darkness I could sense the outline of his body and it was hard not to touch him right then and there after all.
For a short second I tried to recall all of those strange happenings that had led to us meeting here. Plot twists and incidents you’d only expect to find in films and novels. He’d come to Japan because of me; to find me. I had to keep reminding me of that fact over and over again so as not to make a huge mistake. I owed him a second chance. I owed him that much. And I knew I had to forgive myself as well. I owed me, too.
“Should we just … walk for a while?”
“Fine by me,” I heard him laugh light hearted as though we were planning on going to a tea party instead. Sometimes I worried that he might not feel the same agony I had felt. This longing and itching for his fingertips on my skin. His lips on mine. His laughter in my ears. But I knew I had to rely on my faith this time. He showed affection differently. I knew he cared. He had to.
As soon as we started walking slow little rounds across the tiny park, I felt my shoulders lift and become lighter already. I exhaled deeply and risked a hesitant side glance to try and guess how his face looked but it was just too dark. It wasn’t as cold anymore; maybe because I wasn’t sitting on this cold bench anymore, maybe because I felt the warmth of his body radiating towards me in a soft, caressing brush of air. It was him then who raised his voice softly to speak first.
“I’m sorry you had to come here to meet me, this could have been handled a lot better,” he mumbled under his hot breath with his eyes glued to the path in front of us. He wasn’t unsure, he didn’t sound like it; it was just his accent all over again. “But I want you to know that I’m still sorry about it all. I was so preoccupied with life … I didn’t realise what was happening. Before I knew … half a year had passed. And I couldn’t forget you.”
I swallowed hard and gave myself a few more moments to let it sink in. This wasn’t news to me. I believed him that he had missed me and that he cared for me. That he liked me. I had forgiven him, deep known. I knew it. But I was wrestling with far scarier demons – what was about to happen? What if we liked each other? What then? What would it lead to if we were on the other ends of the world; separated because of work and life?
When I looked at him; when I thought of him … I didn’t think of him as a fling. I longed for him, yes, but there were feelings. Huge, scary feelings. Something I had scarcely felt before. An affair just wasn’t in the picture here. I wanted more. More or nothing at all. So at my age … it was natural to think this far already now, wasn’t it?
“I feel like such a stupid mug, really,” he suddenly laughed into the silence before I could say anything first. It sounded apologetic enough to stop me in my tracks and make me start listen closely again. “I’ve never met anyone like you. That scared me.”
“I believe you, you know,” it broke out of me just like that. And I breathed out exhaustedly as if I had held my breath the whole time. “I think that had to be said. I believe you and I … guess I feel the same. Only that I’ve committed to those feelings a bit … faster. I’m trying to get over myself here.”
“Yeah … I guess we both are.”
During the last few minutes we had involuntarily started walking closer to the other, as if an invisible power had drawn us together. We didn’t look where we were going anymore or didn’t care. We were just walking. And thinking. And sometimes listening to the other’s breathing. Somewhere in the distance the muffled sounds of cars and voices.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“Did you hook up with your ex-boyfriend that night?” he whispered a bit lost and for the first time ever I could actually sense that his feelings for me might just be real after all. Even if it was only jealousy. It was dripping off his tongue and it made me smile and warm me up from the inside. “I know it’s none of my business … And I swear I’m not judging, but–”
“Yes, I did.” Again, I couldn’t hold onto myself. But I also wanted him to stop babbling awkward nonsense. I could sense that he wasn’t used to feeling like this and to say things like these. Even if I wasn’t, either. I tried. “It didn’t mean anything, though.”
“I guess I deserved that then,” he chuckled clumsily and a second later, his hand accidentally brushed mine and he jumped but he did not pull away.
“It’s not about deserving anything or not. I didn’t do that to mess with you. I might have been disappointed … or frustrated. And I guess he was there.”
Finally I risked a fleeting glance at Colin and I could see him nod in the dark. I wanted to be honest with him because that was what it took. The bare minimum. “I see … Well, colour me jealous, then.”
I smirked silently and tried my hardest not to let him see or hear it; I was just so amused by our little conversation that I ignored each and every little voice in my head and put my arm around his shoulders to pull him closer to me. Just as I had done with Hiro that night, only that Colin was far taller than me and his broad shoulders felt heavenly. Finally I could touch him; allowed myself to touch him. And the best part was: I felt him melting under my fingertips as well.
“Nothing to be jealous about, but I appreciate your honesty. We fought again. There’s a reason why he’s my ex …”
I felt myself slowly gaining more control over this situation and my own feelings. It lifted my spirits into the sky and my chest felt like it was about to explode. Something I hadn’t felt for years and years. My fingertips were hot, as were the tips of my ears. I smiled; brightly, until my ears hurt. This felt so right. It felt like he was finally mine. I couldn’t think about all the issues confronting us like swallowed demons anymore. Finally I had made up my mind that I wouldn’t let them tonight.
“I like this …” I listened to him hum; the vibration in his voice ringing nicely comforting in my ears as he nestled closer to me. It was like the ice between us had finally melted into nothingness and had just left enough water at our ankles to make us shiver with anticipation of what was to come. “You know I was at your concert, right?”
“You were?”
“I picked you up next to the venue, didn’t I?”
His words slightly startled me, so I didn’t really think anything of it as I let go of his shoulders subconsciously. We had stopped walking and stood there, in the middle of the street. Somehow, somewhen … we had left the park, apparently. “I … wow, now you’re pushing, huh? … Since when did you know?”
It was brighter now, seeing that we were on an actual street with lots of colourful neon lights and passing cars, so I could see his face; and his dark blue eyes glistened exhilarated, dimples pulling at his cheeks. Dark stubble framed his face nicely. But this time, he didn’t wear a beanie. I wondered. “A while. You know that your face pops up when you type in one of your songs, right?” he laughed with a high pitch in his voice; his eyes almost closed. “That song you were singing back at the hotel? Yeah …”
“Don’t tell me you remembered the lines. We only now published the song.”
“I had tried to search for it before. I found it weird that it never got me anywhere. And then … suddenly it did.”
Silence. I gave myself some moments to mull this over. Had he even found me had I sang a different song back then? Had he even wanted to in the first place? And was that even important?
“You can’t imagine my face when I realised that was you. I felt so stupid. And then … sort of turned on.”
“Oh jeez, would you–” I stumbled over my own words and transformed my first impulse, namely to push my hand hard against my face, into holding his mouth shut instead, literally. Then we both laughed out loud about all the tension and awkwardness and pleasant static in the air between us until he shoved my hand away.
“I sucked you off and came all over your shoes; I bet you can bear to hear some words.”
“Oh my God, Colin …” I smiled unbelievingly as I turned away to continue walking but I was still amused all the same. Funny how I’ve always thought that I needed to be in charge when it was actually the other way around. “It’s just that I … it’s weird, yeah? And then you went to see the concert?”
He nodded. “Not quite my kind of music … but the energy was infectious. I had the time of my life, really,” he again broke out into warm laughter and I felt myself relax into his voice. How could he draw me in so easily?
We walked alongside the street now; people passed us but didn’t look at us. Sometimes they did. Probably because of Colin’s foreign appearance. Walking next to him, I had to have looked more foreign, too.  I didn’t know where we were going, but I was hyper aware that we were now surrounded by other people and the public. It felt nice, however, to have walked out of the pitch black park; at least it was a stark contrast to the street leading to Oasis 21.
“You know … It’s kind of embarrassing to say, but I find it mildly ironic that I fell for a singer.”
Walking next to him, I took a look at his face to see his reaction, but he did not look back at me. Every now and then our shoulders bumped but our hands didn’t so much as brush against the other again. “Why’s that?”
“My newest film … it’s the reason I’d been so busy, honestly. My character falls for a foreign singer, too.”
I smiled as I remembered the trailer I’d watched both intrigued and with a heart beating frantic rhythms of underlying panic … and then got off to one of his pictures. I’d forgotten about it all together. Or conveniently erased it from my memory for a few hours. It’d been a day since then. And now my ears were hot all over again.
“I’ve watched the trailer …”
Now he chuckled nervously and scratched some spot behind his ear like an uneasy cat; but I saw this trivial quirk and had to smile nonetheless. This situation was still surreal and I’d dreamt of living through it. Just talking about anything and everything; telling him my innermost thoughts and sharing with him my fears and joys and everything that I appreciated about him. Being so honest with him felt as though being lifted out of sky deep water. It didn’t happen as much with Japanese people. Not that early on, anyway. But somewhere deep inside of me I knew that I needed that.
“Good, yeah. Good to know,” he nodded at me with a face ripe of mild embarrassment, “I just want you to know that … that that was basically me coming out.”
“Coming out to … who?”
He chuckled again and did a nervous little dance with his fingers which he then stuffed away awkwardly. “The public? I haven’t told them directly. I never do with these things. I’m really just a very private person in general. But I told them that Benjamin was basically me back in my teenage years. I know they understood.”
“Huh …”
It felt like this whole thing had been a huge deal for him after all, even if he’d never say so. Next to me, I could sense his body shake softly, but then it stopped. He wasn’t insecure about his sexuality, that wasn’t it. And yet … this side of him surprised me.
“Why are you so private?”
He shrugged his shoulders just as a couple passed us on the street, but I only had eyes for him. “Always have been, I don’t know … I’m just a quiet bloke from a little rural-like town in Northern Ireland. What even is ‘Instagram’?”
I snickered amused before again taking hold of his shoulders and shaking him gently before pulling him close to my chest for a few long seconds. Then he retreated.
“I know– No, I know what Instagram is,” he laughed as he freed himself from my friendly grip. “Actually, I recently registered … just to follow you.”
“Get out,” I said with a voice thick of disbelief. We had stopped walking and now stood right in front of the UFO-like building Oasis 21, which loomed, blue neon-lights and all, in the background. As always, the place was alive with lots of different people but I still only had eyes for him. I hadn’t expected anything like that and was now rightfully taken aback.
“No … But I’ll tell you why at a different time.”
His blue eyes gleamed excitedly, probably from pure happiness and from all those colourful lights; they tinted his dark hair an otherworldly arctic colour, too, as if he was just a projection inside a video game. But we were facing each other now. He was here and so was I. Smiles bright on our lips and our panting, out of outright devouring excitement, staining the air left and right.
I just couldn’t take this “no-touching-allowed”-flirting any longer now that we were surrounded by people.
“Sorry, Masato,” I heard him mumble before I saw him rush towards me. I couldn’t seem to react in any way, honestly, before he had me tackled into a short-lived but passionate mouth-on-mouth kiss; soft hands framing my face longingly and all. Then he stood right in front of me again as if nothing had happened. White puffs of air leaving our mouths.
One second. Exhale. Two seconds. Inhale. Holding my breath.
I felt the tips of my ears grow hot again and this time I couldn’t say whether out of panic or arousal. Maybe both.
“Are you insane?” I mouthed as I dragged him away from the daylight-lit building and passing people while I frantically looked over my shoulder; paranoid. I knew he felt sorry for losing control so very easily but he did not understand the consequences.
“Look, even ‘normal’ couples don’t do that in public here.” I shook my head and concentrated on the path in front of us, leading us away from all the hustle and bustle.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise … and then it was too late.”
“I wouldn’t have cared so much in the park …” I sighed as I felt my heart calm down to a relatively normal rhythm again the more we diverged from the station. “But look, I’m sure it’s okay. It was just a second and people here usually respect privacy. I’m not a big celebrity …”
I couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy after this encounter, nonetheless.
Colin next to me nodded silently but his unusually pale complexion told me he was as anxious as I felt. Different countries have different customs after all. He did not know any better. But this was a delicate topic here.
“Hey, it’ll be alright, cheer up,” I smiled wonkily but cushioned the urge to give him a friendly nudge. “Let’s just … calm down and go to my place? There’s an opened bottle of white wine in my fridge …”
***
“I really don’t know what’s gotten into me, sorry,” Colin apologised for the seventh time this night and made a tensed up face; little wrinkles appeared next to the corners of his mouth. As time passed, I had lost the ability to know what to say exactly because it couldn’t be changed and since I was sure that no one had noticed for real, these icky feelings of unrest and queasiness would eventually subside. Or so I hoped.
So I shrugged and put on somewhat of a strained face myself. “Don’t be. Just remember not to do that again,” I laughed lightly and took a sip from my glass. I deliberately held back on telling him to stop apologising and hoped he’d gotten the subtle message.
Had it been risky to take him with me on the train to my apartment after this encounter? Maybe, maybe not. Celebrities here went years and years without having their personal relationships discovered and suddenly married out of the blue. Granted, usually none of them were gay.
I watched my fingers play with the stem of the wine glass. We were sitting on my huge grey corner sofa; in front of us the white couch table with a view out of the glass front. Around us the soft, dimmed light creating a comfortable atmosphere that made my gloomy thoughts a tad lighter as they retreated to the back of my head but I could still feel them linger there. It had irrevocably reminded me of the fact that I was different after all. That I had told myself that I still found women attractive and that I would eventually meet the right person to marry and have kids with; and maybe I still did … in some way. But attraction in some way was not enough anymore in this case. All I wanted was someone I could go up in flames for and it’d been long since I’d last felt this way about a woman. There weren’t many openly gay public figures around here; not many role models. Here, you either married a person of the opposite gender or you just didn’t. People didn’t go around proclaiming their support of the LGBTQ-community. There weren’t any famous people who used their voices to press ahead the movement and educate the stubborn masses. And I just knew that I didn’t want to be the guinea pig.
“Can I do anything to lighten your mood?” he asked innocently with a small smile playing upon his lips, before he put his left hand on my knee. I was positive that he hadn’t intended it to be received in a flirty manner, but it made me grin in a childish way nonetheless.
With a soft sigh, I leaned the back of my head against the back rest to look him in the eyes sleepily – their colour resembled nothing but recently fallen winter rain. Nothing you’d see often. “It helps that you’re here … That you’ve come back to my place. I appreciate it.”
“And yet … You look as if you’ve got a lot on your mind.”
“I do. But I’m afraid I’m not ready to tell you yet.”
Colin nodded understandingly as he drew back his hand after he had brushed cautiously up and down my thigh a few times. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that all of this felt so intimate; so exciting and yet so familiar. As if we’d known each other for much longer already. He made it hard for me to breathe and my heart agitated. I anxiously took in all that was him; the perfectly straight nose, his dimples when he smiled, his smooth underarms and broad chest hidden underneath that flattering button-down. His slightly too long black locks curling around his ears. He had them set back, he’d told me. They surely weren’t as prominent anymore as in his Merlin-days but I still didn’t quite know what to think of that. I had already met him with pinned-back ears; though, when looking at older pictures, I did find them charming. They’d suited him in a strange way.
“No need to,” Colin proclaimed with a soothing tone in his voice and took a sip of his drink as well. I just loved listening to him speak and watching his lips move; his dark accent was nurturing some inner demon inside of me and I did not yet know if that was a good thing. “But I’ll be listening whenever you want me to.”
By then, he had crossed his legs and our knees were faintly touching; his left arm wrapped around the back rest, so ultimately around my shoulders as well. Sitting there closely intertwined and slightly intoxicated, I didn’t want to think about all of these issues anymore. It felt good, being here with him. I felt safe. As safe as I could feel, anyway. And it felt right. So, again, I tried to shove these thoughts to the back of my head and wondered for a short second how well it would work out this time around.
I saw my chance the moment he carefully placed his glass back onto the table and felt myself dashing forward without having finished my last thought completely. With my hands caressing his face, I pressed my lips onto his’ as though I couldn’t breathe without him and I had to smile against his teeth when he drew in a surprised breath. The body wants what it wants.
So this was it – the final straw. I really did need him to breathe; to live. Who was I kidding? His soft lips on mine felt unimaginably heart-wrenching; like everything I’ve ever longed for. I could feel his teeth hidden behind them with every little peck and bite. Those lips were more delicate than any others I’d ever kissed. They felt foreign and yet thoroughly exhilarating. Nothing I was used to. Our kisses earlier this year in winter had been tainted with lust and desire, and these were too, but they were something more altogether. Longing and affection had been mingling and mixing long before; tucking relentlessly at my nervous system and soul. And finally I could kiss him again, this time with more passion; more lust and feelings and my whole heart on the silver plate but I did not care. Either he took me whole or not. This time, I wouldn’t let him go.
“Now it’s allowed?” he managed to croak out between tongue on tongue and little pecks.
I nodded against his forehead and was about to push him back on the sofa and yelped surprised when he pulled me onto his lap instead. “There’s a right time and place for everything,” I added breathlessly.
“I see,” he mused against my lips; this kiss now gentle and soft and slowly fading into somewhat of a lively game between us. “You didn’t plan this, did you?”
I shook my head no and couldn’t resist the temptation to let my hands wander down his neck to feel his biceps and chest and abs. I couldn’t remember if I’d ever sat on anyone like that before but I liked the unfamiliar rush of excitement shooting through my body like little heat waves whenever I inhaled his breath. I could feel his hard dick pressing against my thigh and eventually became aware of my own jeans being too tight.
Time had honestly stopped in its tracks. My mind was so fuzzy with affection and desire that I probably couldn’t intervene even if I wanted to. I didn’t think about tomorrow anymore; or even about the next couple of hours. There was just the sole and deep urge to touch him wherever I could; to kiss him until both our lips went numb … to hear him gasp my name in my ears. I didn’t want to dominate him – suddenly this idea grew very uninteresting in my mind. For the first time in … ever – I realised why people preferred having sex with people they actually loved.
After a while he loosened his soft grip from my jaw where he had held me to kiss me and leaned back; from under half-closed lids, I felt his stare churn this foreign fire deep inside of me further. A desperate sigh left my mouth. “You look so awfully pretty like that,” he breathed out.
Colin let his thumb rest on my lower lip before letting it wander downwards to feel the pulse on my neck, then stopping at my Vena-Tattoo. Another whimper. I lost my breath. I knew that I was prone to blushing hot when I was aroused and so bothered; but I also knew that my lips had to be swollen as well and that one was new. Colin on the other hand didn’t look quite as troubled. He eyed me up and down with a fixating stare; his rainy eyes clouded with what seemed like craving too; and under it I felt myself and the rest of my restraint melt like the freaking polar caps.
“Will you get rid of your shirt for me, Princess?”
As if hypnotised, I managed a short nod before pulling my white shirt over my head and letting it fall to the floor; the cold air now sweeping over my skin, sparking goose bumps and sending shivers down my spine. I had missed being called like that. For the longest time I hadn’t even realised what that did to me; what that could do to me – the power he held over me simply by using as plain a word as that. I just couldn’t get it into my head. I had used it on Hiro not long ago, more or less subconsciously, but it just didn’t have the same impact, either for me or him. And I just couldn’t quite put my finger on why, aside from the fact that Colin could probably say a lot and I’d still worship each and every word right off his God damn lips.
“You’ve never been handled like this before, have you?”
Again, a weak shake of my head. I heard my pulse in my ears. Then he grabbed my hips to press his groin against mine. While I yelped in surprise like an innocent teenager, he let out a long, satisfied sigh. I felt my ears grow hot. I’d just never been in a situation where I was the sub; where I didn’t know his next move and being ultimately at the mercy of someone else and not in charge for once.
“I bet you’re gonna love it. My cock deep inside you, doll, you’re gonna love it so much.”
His promise, thick with want and anticipation, made me think about how it would feel; how his cock inside of me would feel when he filled me up. I’d never been there. I didn’t even know what his dick looked like. And at the very thought, I felt my heart skip another beat. There was a short exchange of heated glances and immediately after I broke the contact, he pulled me towards him by the back of my neck into yet another kiss. I whimpered and he groaned and with all my might I tried to press my body as close to his’ as I could possibly manage. My hands where everywhere all at once, I’d lost track of them all together. I just knew that his chest felt heavenly and my jeans were too tight and I couldn’t get enough of his breath on my tongue and his nose on my cheek. I just couldn’t seem to get quite close enough, no matter how hard I tried.
Somewhere along the way, he had lost his button-down shirt and he or I, I couldn’t recall, had opened up my fly and now my erection poked out at him quite frankly. Feeling kind of awkward about it, I decided to get up from his lap. But then standing right in front of him, I suddenly had the most amazing view of his broad and well-toned chest and stomach, so I forgot to breathe for a second. He wasn’t as scrawny as he appeared at first glance; which I had undoubtedly discovered in my google image search of him. How could he manage to hide that so well? I was neither lanky, nor was I fat by any means – but compared to him I seemed so small and short.
“Wanted to have a better look?” he smirked and moved into a comfortably sprawled out position on the sofa now; covering practically the entire space. Almost no place for me left to sit next to him. Then, after a while, I boldly climbed out of my jeans and tried not to look too lost and unsure. Because I wasn’t, I was so endlessly excited about this whole thing, I just didn’t know what to expect.
“Come here, beautiful,” he whispered breathlessly, as if in awe, as he softly beckoned me over and eased my doubts in the process. I swore he had to have seen my heart pounding beneath my chest, ready to jump out of it, when I’d finally shuffled close enough so that my feet touched the couch. With loving fingers he took a soft hold of my hips and leaned forward. I held my breath when his lips touched me. He was so confident in what he was doing; it didn’t feel fake at all, almost as if it really came naturally to him. And thus it felt so easy for me to melt into his touches and obey his soothingly voiced demands. Suddenly I knew why it felt so different compared to me ordering Hiro around – Colin did it in such a loving, appreciating way that you didn’t even have time to question it. It was hot, following every request of him that is, but I also loved being treated like something precious by him. I wanted to give it to him all – my undying compliance and the chance of having someone he could protect and care for. Someone who moaned just for him. I felt my heart take a leap at the thought.
“You can answer me, you know,” he breathed and his hot breath warming up the fabric of my briefs made me shiver. Then he looked up at me from under his long dark lashes. “I want to hear your pretty voice,” he mouthed at my clothed erection but I could only muster up a weak nod instead.
Not even slightly bemused, he continued on with his efforts and I was back at the hotel. The lights were off and faint car noises reached my ears. Everything was clouded in a delicate kind of mist and felt so new and exciting and suddenly I realised with a missed heartbeat that this time I was sure that I wanted him; that I wanted this, us, and that there was a chance of him staying. Finally.
“Will you touch me, please?”
Colin chuckled. “I will swallow you down, sweetie.”
I hadn’t realised that my mouth stood wide open but now I was in an urgent need to catch my breath and welcomed my ungraceful expression. With careful hands, he pulled down my briefs and suddenly I stood naked in front of him; my hard cock twitching at the mere thought of him taking me inside his mouth. Even though we’d had sex before, we hadn’t been naked together. He’d never seen me naked and neither had I seen him, but now that it was happening, it felt like pure ecstasy running through my veins. Suddenly I knew why Hiro liked it so much – this faint sense of being at his mercy and at the same time I was functioning as his little doll he could delight in. He could look at and get off to.
Then he finally delivered on his promise and started to lick a tender line up my shaft. I moaned under his tongue and he grinned. My hands now in his hair.  “A cock ring would look so pretty on you, doll.”
I could only mumble something very unintelligible before he was already licking the tip of my cock to make it wet before taking me all in. I instinctively held on to his hair so tight that I had to loosen my grip again when I noticed, though Colin did not seem to be bothered in any way. With half-closed eyes, I watched his head, slowly bobbing back and forth, blur into a mist of blacks and whites, sending sparks through my whole body. He was so insanely good at it that it made it hard for me to stop him. But I wouldn’t have been able to control myself any longer hadn’t I intervened. And Jesus, I would have regretted it.
“You already want more?”
His voice was soft and did not at all sound rigid and as though he’d just deepthroated someone. Smooth like freshly fallen snow and just as bright it was and maybe I just focused too much on that aspect so as to avoid the actual question he’d asked. But yes, yes I wanted more of him. So desperately.
My breath came out at a rapid rhythm now but also wouldn’t slow down. Then he finally took the hint and stood back up. Close to my naked self, he appeared to be even taller. “You know, you have to tell me. I’ll make you comfortable.”
He brushed my right cheek and jawline with his thumb and I felt his breath on my lips. His dark coloured blue eyes, or what I could see of them covered by his thick lashes, were clouded but attentive. Then I nodded. “I want more of you.”
Colin smiled lovingly before he kissed me. Every spoken word directed at him felt like miles and miles of stones falling off my shoulders. It was hard every time, telling him exactly what I wanted, giving in to his dominating nature, but then it got easier every time I’d do it and this rush of excitement whenever he’d flash a proud smile after that, was addicting. It made me smile, too. It made my heart flutter and cheeks glow. It was like training a young dog, really, if you’d think about it. Praise and telling off. The thing was, though, that it worked. I knew about it and I wanted it to work. I wanted his attention and wanted to make him proud.
“Tell you what, princess, you’re gonna hop onto the sofa and wait for me. I’ll go get some lube and a condom.”
Again, I nodded well-behaved and did as I was told. I didn’t quite know how to feel, though. I was so excited to finally feel him but I also didn’t know what to expect. Obviously I’d had anal sex before, just not on the receiving end. I knew how to prepare and how to relax. I knew what he’d do to me, probably. But giving in and just letting go of your control was not as easy as it sounded. So I tried to relax after I had giving him unintelligible clues as where to find all of it.
I watched him stroll into the living room again with slow, confident steps and a smirk on his lips; condom and lube dangling in his hand. His pants were open and rode low on his hip bones; he wasn’t wearing his socks anymore. This ridiculously fascinating view of him almost made me want to hide away again. I didn’t think I was ugly … but he was just so gorgeous.
His smooth laughter in my ears when he sat down gingerly calmed my nerves again. I felt like such a stupid little virgin.
“It’ll be so good,” he whispered into my ear as his lips grazed my skin and his fingertips my cock, his other arm wrapped around my shoulders, “I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about it for days.”
My thoughts jumped from him sucking my dick to his fingers fucking me and then his cock deep inside of me. It was pure chaos up in there and so I kissed him to quieten up my lousy head. For one second I thought I’d seen surprise in his eyes but the next second the impression was gone and he was kissing me back with everything he’d got; hand on my jaw and fingers in my hair.
“When I watched you on stage, screaming and growling, all I could think of was you on my cock.”
My heart pounded loud in my ears and even though I felt like that this was my clue to get embarrassed, I just felt so frighteningly turned on.
“I really want to do that before, though,” I hummed soft-spoken, a bit nervous, as I broke the kiss and got to my knees instead. It was not so easy getting rid of his jeans even though they sat so very loosely on his hips. Once his pants and briefs were gone, though, I had to hold my breath. I wasn’t one to judge and, honestly, size didn’t matter to me as an at-least-bisexual-probably-gay-man, anyway. I’d never thought about it this way. But his cock surely was bigger than I had expected. Not large, not 8 ½ inches. But proper thick. Staring at it in somewhat of a state of awe, I couldn’t figure out if I could even take it into my mouth, let alone my arse.
“That’s a can of coke,” I joked and only then did I hear myself and laughed to cover up my awkwardness. Luckily, he laughed too.
“We’ll be careful and we’ll take it from there,” he breathed; voice raspy and low and with his fingers in my hair again. I loved those affectionate touches so very much. His cock twitched while I looked at it and I could swear it got even bigger. But I really, really wanted him inside my mouth, too. All we had ever done was him sucking me off. I just really wanted to know how he’d taste and smell like and how he’d feel. The weight of him on my tongue. I’d never before been confronted with “issues” like these and I had never really spent a single second thinking about anything like that. I’d never had to. But I knew that I trusted him and that I didn’t need to be nervous. So I went along.
I had sucked dicks before of course. I loved it, too. Even though I’d let Hiroki handle the majority of the dick-sucking. It’d been a while, though, but when I got close to him and breathed in this familiar scent, I felt the desire in me build a mountain. My heart jumped just as my tongue touched the underside of his cock for the first time. I couldn’t exactly look up and him in the eye, he had his head thrown back and our positions were too awkward, but I heard him sigh in a low voice and that was all I needed to go on. My hands, that I had been resting on his naked thighs, now moved of their own accord up and down, so did my tongue. It was a hell of a task to get him wet enough for me to finally take him in fully. Wouldn’t exactly be smooth enough dry, but there was just so much surface.
I loved the way he winced when I reached his tip and started to suck on it and felt myself grin so that my teeth touched him only faintly. He looked so breathtakingly amazing like this, I just couldn’t comprehend how I had such a beautiful person at my mercy and in my mouth. And when I first took him full in, he moaned and I felt it grow hot between my legs. I hadn’t been aware that sucking dick could do something like this to you. I literally felt my desire rise to unknown heights and my cock wouldn’t stop twitching. I just couldn’t figure out how to take him fully into my mouth, it would only go so far. But Colin still seemed to enjoy it; moaning, groaning, he held onto my hair and guided me up and down gently. Not too forcefully but still determined. Having such a hard and thick cock inside your mouth was an exciting feeling I’d never felt before. It made my mouth water and honestly look forward to the next part of this. I was so hot all over. So hot and bothered that I didn’t even realise it when he finally pulled me up and off his cock to give me a sloppy kiss. I was gone by then; totally wasted and high on his smell and taste. Eyes hooded, mouth open.
“You want more, don’t you?” he whispered; almost as drunken as I felt. I nodded.
Yes. Yes, right now I didn’t want anything more than me naked on his lap. Feeling his hands wander across my body, hearing his moans and little sighs; crying my name. I wanted to touch his warm skin and burn the image and feel of him deep into my soul so that I would not be able to forget about it ever again. I didn’t know when we could be seeing each other again. And I didn’t want to think about that right now.
“Come here to me, pretty,” Colin slurred and gestured for me to join him on the couch, so I hastily got up and sat next to him. I lost myself in the way he looked at me tenderly; tracing invisible paths we were yet to take onto my skin with his finger. His breath on my cheek and his beard stubble almost touching my skin; tickling. He was so close. My heart skipped a beat. “Just relax, yeah? You’re gonna love my two fingers inside of you.”
I nodded, felt a delicate blush creep on my cheeks, but there was just nothing I could do anymore. My body was not mine, neither was my head. It was as though I had entirely surrendered to him; body and mind. My eyes clouded with lust and drunken with want. Fuzzy. Like cotton wool inside my head. I’d never before experienced anything like it but I knew that I was about to get addicted.
I only casually noticed how he spread some lube on his fingers to warm it up; next thing I knew he started touching me gingerly down there, drawing gentle circles and adjusting me to the feeling. It was foreign, I had to admit, though the idea of it had always been in the back of my mind, so I wasn’t really surprised when it felt better than I’d expected.
I was still lying in his arms, having spread my legs ever so slightly, feet on the couch. He was good at this; still not too forceful and slow enough for me to enjoy it. But there was a certain boldness to it, too. He knew what he was doing and so I could relax into his movements and little purrs of affection and love. His thumb caressing my shoulder and little pecks on my neck. Until he pushed one finger in. But it came naturally, there was no time to be surprised. I’d been so ready for this. If anything, I longed for more.
And so I voiced my displeasure with a soft moan. I wasn’t even able anymore to look him in the eye; I had my eyes closed and closed they wanted to remain. But his finger felt so dangerously on the edge of being satisfying-yet-not-satisfying-enough, the way he moved; pushing in and out and growing faster with every movement. He knew it, I knew he did. He loved to tease me; I could feel his grin on my cheek and his rapid breathing on my skin. I knew he watched me going insane. Until a second finger finally joined. I yelped when he did it but it didn’t feel foreign anymore, nor did it feel uncomfortable. It felt just like it was supposed to feel when you really wanted someone inside of you – immediately and all at once.
I was clawing at his soft skin at this point and it felt far too hot in here. I grew careless, impatient; shuffled closer and closer to him until I almost sat on his lap. I held onto his shoulders and back and hips and chest as though I was afraid I could slip any second. I didn’t know how to express my longing any other way, really. I’d only ever taken anything I wanted, I’d never been depended. But my mouth remained sewn shut except for a few desperate moans that rolled off my tongue so very heavily. If that was how two fingers felt … how would that end?
“Do you think you have it in you to get on my lap, princess? Do you think you could do that for me?”
His voice was honey-sweet with a tint of a mischievous grin but I couldn’t think straight, all I could feel were his fingers sliding in and out of me. “Shut up,” I whispered; not because he embarrassed me but because I just didn’t know any better. My whole being was already so full of him that I didn’t even think another bit of him could fit inside of me. There was just no space left. My heart felt so full.
But then he pulled out his fingers cautiously and wiped them on a tissue. I watched him breathlessly; totally out of touch with myself and my surroundings. I honestly had tunnel-vision at this point. Next he opened the condom wrapper and put it on; watched me watching him. Smiled encouragingly. Then he took the lube and spread it over his cock. My gaze was fixed on his dick. His hand lingered there ever so slightly. We made eye-contact for a second and then he began stroking himself. Slowly, gingerly so as not to mess with the condom, he massaged up and down and I felt my eyes glued to this sight of him. Suddenly I actually felt like I was blushing. At least my ears grew hot. It made me think about watching him like that all the time, until the end, up until he came.
Honestly, there were just too many sensations going on and I didn’t know which one to give my full attention.
“Do you want to sit on me?” he asked in a seductive tone of voice and there was just no way I would have said no. This time, again, I only nodded and followed through.
With a swift motion, I swung one of my legs over his lap while I held onto his shoulders. I felt his cock twitch against my thigh. I couldn’t hold onto me, so I dashed in to capture his lips and he obliged without a word or gesture of resistance or protest. Now that his fingers weren’t inside of me anymore but my want hadn’t been satisfied, I felt the loss of that filled up space deep inside of me. It kind of … tickled. It sparked thunder and flames. It spread throughout my body and just wanted to be complete again. It was just another kind of longing. Why had I ever missed out on that before?
I felt him position himself, taking his cock in his hand to guide it to my butt. I felt him nudging at my skin. I sighed both in relief and excitement. Then he finally pushed in. I had to admit, my first reaction was to hold still and cramp up. It wasn’t uncomfortable and it didn’t hurt, maybe it was just the surprise of it all and the unfamiliar position. But he waited patiently, I could hear his breath leave his lips in weighty waves; hands firmly on my hips and his eyes only looking at me. Now his vision was just as cloudy as mine.
“It’s okay, take your time,” he mouthed at my lips but I could see him shiver and shake; felt him twitching inside of me. Something we had longed for so insanely long and now mere seconds felt like centuries. That’s why it didn’t take long for me to relax again, seeing that it didn’t hurt at all. All I could feel was this space that wasn’t filled up how it was supposed to and so I lowered myself farther down on his cock. Until I had him almost balls deep inside of me. Colin’s groans were so low that they ringed in my ears. He would have probably made a perfect shouter. I just couldn’t figure out where to put all this arousal and lust and want and all-encompassing desperation.
I felt myself claw at his skin again but he just grinned. Brushed a single strand of hair out of my face. My cheeks had to have been charcoal-glowing red by then. All I was able to hear was my heartbeat in my ears and his breathing on my neck. He kissed my tattoo. I yelped. Then I finally started to move up and down and was blinded by sparks dancing across my vision.
God, I should have listened to Hiroki. It wasn’t even the dominance-kick I needed. I didn’t miss it in the slightest. How could I’d been so strangely wrong about that? All he did was filling me up and I’d never been so perfectly happy in my life before.
With his hands on my hips, he supported me in my awkward movements and for a moment he didn’t do anything other than staring at me with a half opened mouth. I was hypnotised by it and it seemed to be as if my legs moved of their own accord. “You look so awfully pretty like that, doll … Oh my God– you don’t even know what that does to me.”
My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. It felt so full and complete. The thrill of it all! The affection I held for him. The excitement of the moment. The lust building camps and fires inside of the pit of my stomach. I knew it was spreading. I could feel it in my fingertips holding onto his skin desperately. I didn’t feel the need to say anything and he didn’t push me. He just wanted to let me know and it felt so good. Everything that had been wrong with mine and Hiroki’s interaction. Love was not just a feeling now after all, was it?
Somewhere along the way he had started to carefully thrust upwards to meet me but there was no way his movements weren’t becoming hastier and harder by the second. I had started to hug his shoulders and bury my nose in his neck and hair. He smelled so gorgeous. I didn’t even feel the need to touch myself; I honestly wouldn’t have thought that a dick inside of you could feel enough. It was a different kind of arousal, a different kind of sensation. We weren’t even fully aware of how loud our moans were that filled the room.
Then he kissed me again, deep this time. It became hard to keep up the rhythm as my arousal got the better of me. I was panting by then and he had to have known that I was exhausted. Not from effort per se, but this different kind of penetration just made your legs weak and your breath shaky and so I was glad that he had started to lead this whole thing.
“I want you to look at me when you come, okay?” he mumbled, I almost hadn’t understood what he had been saying; his lips were heavy and his words were slurred. Honestly, he tried to look as unbothered as he could manage but it didn’t work. He was in this as deep as I was and it made me so childishly giddy inside. “Can you do that for me?”
I nodded.  He reached down to stroke my cock. I gasped in surprise.
“You can come all over me too, princess. I want you to.”
My forehead found its way to his on its own. Our hot breath mingled and made our cheeks damp. I just couldn’t describe it, he was so thick and filled me up perfectly and yet it didn’t feel as enormous as in the beginning but it was still so overwhelming. Our rhythm, however, grew more rapid and rapid by the second and somewhere in my head I had the thought that it should actually hurt more than it did but all I felt was pure arousal. We didn’t think about it anymore, it was too easy to just act on it. The harder and faster our movements, the louder our moans became; the more I loved it. By then, we were moving in unison – the way two gear wheels meshed with one another. Like we were made for it. It just felt natural. And soon I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. Quite literally even.
“Look at me, look at me,” I heard Colin exclaim forcefully, as if he was actually scared I would forget, but it was too hard not to look him in the eye, anyway. Though, admittedly, it was also hard to keep my eyes open with all those different sensations running through my veins. I alternated between touching his chest and cupping his face with both my hands, I didn’t know where to put them. I just knew that one of his hands was on my cock and the other somewhere on my body, drawing red lines and digging holes.
It all got too much pretty fast. The pressure and friction and heat. And I still couldn’t get as close to him as I desperately needed to. He wasn’t holding off any longer, his thrusts came harsh and deep but I still rolled my hips downwards to meet them. I wanted to make him come. I also wanted to see him come. Our faces were mere inches apart and I could taste his breath on my tongue but his stare kept me from actually diving in to kiss him senseless. I wanted to watch each and every little detail when his features moved to make way for other expressions. To watch his nostrils flare, somehow it made him look even prettier. Realer. If that made sense.
My ears picked up on the change in his voice; his groans becoming deeper and louder. I knew he was close. And now that he’d found the perfect angle and pace to jerk me off, I knew that I couldn’t last any longer, either. Nothing but this mattered anymore and we held onto each other like lovers falling from the sky. I didn’t have to say anything when I was about to come, he knew and held my face in his hand. It was hard keeping my eyes open but the expression in his eyes was worth it all; like a deep understanding and admiration but mingled with this fire still burning in them, it looked so hot. That gave me the last kick, frankly said. That he was watching me closely as I came all over his chest and stomach; the first shot even reaching his neck and jaw, but I only saw it faintly. Like through a curtain. Slowly it began dripping down his sides but he did not stop moving. My body felt so light and insanely hot that it became difficult to move. My heart exploded. I’d never felt so exhausted, my body was just limp. All of these little fireworks exploding in my chest had given me the rest. But now he was close too and I did my best to still meet his thrusts; I could see it in his eyes that me coming had been the last drop, however, and so I watched him close his eyes in ecstasy and scrunch up his nose, mouth wide open. I was in awe. His arms and neck showed his veins as he pushed me further down on his cock a tad too hard and I had to gasp. Now it hurt. But maybe that was because the arousal had been subsiding.
When he’d stopped moving, panting frantically, I cupped his face and kissed him for at least half a minute, I couldn’t really tell. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Those intense feelings rushed so fast through my body so that I felt my eyes well up; tickling. I’d done my best to get as close to him as possible but it seemed like there was no way I could ever achieve that feeling I was seeking. This was as close as it would get. When we parted, he licked his lips contemplatively and brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. A short smile.
“I’ve wanted to tell you how pretty you look but I just couldn’t get out a word seeing you like this.”
I chuckled amused, slightly overwhelmed as I didn’t exactly know what to retort, and reached for the tissue box to wipe the semen from his skin. More than I had expected, by the way, we were lucky it didn’t reach the couch. “You’re such a bootlicker, you know that?” I told him finally but didn’t meet his gaze.
“I’m offended,” he laughed and supported me as I climbed off his lap before he made himself busy with taking off the condom and disposing of it. “Don’t act as if you didn’t like being called pretty, beautiful and princess.”
I shrugged my shoulders and hoped that he meant every single word he’d said, every time he’d said them. But I didn’t exactly want to ask him about it. “Yes, I love it.”
Then he laid his arm around my shoulders to pull me closer and I relaxed into his touch; his smug smile strangely underlining the seriousness of it all. I breathed a sigh of relief. “I love that you enjoy it.”
***
“So, you told me you’d tell me why you followed me on Instagram.”
“That was literally two hours ago, Masato,” I watched him laugh and almost choke on his words, obviously still slightly embarrassed, for whatever reason. He shouldn’t have told me in the first place, really. “Isn’t that obvious, anyway?”
“I want to hear it from your mouth,” I insisted with a straight voice. We’d put on our clothes again and were now lying somewhat on top of one another on the couch. No one smoked by the window this time around, either. But tonight I didn’t care. I didn’t want this to end. It wasn’t just comfortable – it made my heart so perfectly full, like there was no way I could ever be happier in any other moment. I felt at ease with the world as I counted his heartbeats silently and realised that they were mine, too.
“Okay,” he prepared himself, straightening up a bit. His hand on my shoulder did a little patting gesture. “When I found out about you and your band … I just needed to know what you’re up to. I liked seeing you, okay? I stared at some of those pictures … maybe a bit too long.”
He’d started stroking my shoulder again with his thumb while I traced his abs through his shirt. Lying here with him and talking about these things felt so easy all of a sudden. Like a huge weight had been lifted from both our shoulders since we’d had sex. Talking always seemed so easy after that. “So you’re saying that you jerked off to my pictures?”
“I … wouldn’t put it like that.”
“Yeah, me neither if I were you.”
Again, he laughed; this time I felt it on top of my head. Then he placed a kiss there and breathed out, making a spot on my hair feel warm and damp. I followed suit, conveniently leaving out the circumstances of our awkward phone-encounter. “I know we’re just starting out but … I can’t help but to think of where this is gonna take us.”
“Where? I don’t know … forward?” He shrugged his shoulders, I nudged him dissatisfied.
“You know what I mean.”
“The distance …”
“Not only that, you know. We’re both busy people. I have my career and so do you.”
I didn’t even think about the possibility of letting anyone know about our steadily increasing feelings for one another; the relationship we were about to build. One problem at a time, they say. When there was no relationship due to distance problems, I wouldn’t have to fear telling anyone, obviously. But that thought lay heavy like a bag of stones in my stomach and closed up my throat. That feeling when you suddenly had everything you’d ever wished for and then it turns out that you’d been mistaken all along … that wasn’t pleasant at all.
“I’d love to tell you that it’ll all work out fine and that we shouldn’t concern ourselves with matters so difficult to resolve so soon. But that’s not what you want to hear, is it?”
“I’ll get us a glass of water,” I answered queasily instead to dodge the question and got up. No, of course this wasn’t what I wanted to hear from him. Although I should have known it, really. This specific issue wasn’t just resolved on its own, that was just not how things worked. We were from different parts of the world and that was it. It just felt so eerily similar to back then when he walked away from keeping in contact with me. Back at the hotel where he wasn’t concerned about how to find me again. He had found me in the end, obviously, but I did not think that he intended to at first. And that stung.
When I came back with two glasses in hand, he sat upright on the couch and took it without a word. Nipped. Watched the floor. I shuffled about nervously because I didn’t quite know what to say or do. I didn’t want to speak it out loud. Then it would become far too real for my taste. I craved the mysterious after-glow from our hotel room; the dark mist that had settled over us like cotton wool. He had rejected me back then, in a way. But I had not cared as much. Mostly because it hadn’t felt real in the first place. But tonight my heart beat so heavy in my chest that it hurt and it made it hard to breathe.
I love him I love him I love him I love him
Then he got up and looked me in the eye – dead straight.
“Come to London.”
“Wha– I can’t. That’s literally where I’ve just been.”
“I mean, why don’t you move there?”
“I– I … Colin, I have a career here. I can’t just move to a different continent, I–”
Silence. He just stared and as he did so, something in his eyes lit up and I couldn’t pull away from that sight.
“Okay.”
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Before I discovered for myself that there’s a world outside of the US where I live, I had some sort of vague idea of other countries that seems very distant. Before I had done any research, or met other people from different countries, my reality was very different. There was only here and there, and the distance between the two was immeasurable. Now, however, things are much different. We live in a time where it’s easier than ever to connect with and learn about different parts of the world. It is up to us, though, what we do with that, if anything at all. I am encouraging you to take advantage of these opportunities. Before I had chosen Spain as my sojourn destination, the idea of traveling that far away seemed nearly impossible. However, now I can see that not only is it possible, but with the right mindset and a willingness to learn, it can develop into a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Over the past few months, in preparation for my sojourn to Spain, I have accumulated a variety of resources to help me learn about the country and prepare me for my trip. These resources have already proven to be very valuable, and I’m sure they will be even more useful once I actually begin my journey. As a Puerto Rican who grew up speaking little Spanish, I worked very hard so that I could converse with my family there. The common language and a fascination with Europe drew me to Spain, as well as my cousin who studied in Barcelona for a semester and told me of his great experience. Recently, I went abroad for the first time, on a weeklong trip to Paris. Despite my limited French vocabulary, it was very fun, and it taught me a lot about traveling. It was my first time traveling outside of the US, and I went only with my friend, who knew about the same amount of French as I did. I discovered a lot of things in that short amount of time, among them that doing research into a place beforehand is paramount to enjoying yourself and overcoming potential obstacles. The trip’s success raised my confidence about sojourning in Spain, where my Spanish ability is greater than that of my French. As a result, I began looking into the culture and history of Spain as the first steps of preparing for my sojourn.
I already knew that Spanish is the dominant language, and that it is bordered by France to the north, Portugal to the west, and the Mediterrean Sea to the south and east. I found there to be much more, however, that I was unfamiliar with, especially with respect to the government. The structure of the government is a constitutional monarchy, but it is one of the most decentralized countries in Europe. Made up of 17 autonomous regions and two autonomous cities, each region has their own government and the people generally consider themselves more as citizens of their region rather than as citizens of Spain as a whole. As a result, cuisine and even languages can vary between the various regions. For example, paella, a dish made up of rice, chicken, rabbit, and green beans, among other things, is considered the main dish of Valencia, which lies on the Mediterrean Sea. I had previously known paella as a dish representative of all of Spain, but I found that people in Spain generally consider it a Valencian thing. As for languages, Spanish, while the dominant language, is not the only one. In Galicia, in the northwest part of the country, they speak Gallego (Galician), which shares many similarities with Portuguese. In Cataluña (Catalonia), Catalan is a widely spoken language, and in the Basque Country, Basque is spoken. For these three languages, the respective languages of their region contribute to the pride they have in their region, as it separates them from the country. Even within the Spanish language, there are different dialects within Spain, such as in Andalucía, where oftentimes the s is not pronounced (for example, la casa and las casas sound similar in the Andalusian accent). I am familiar with this, as Puerto Ricans do the same thing, as the first Spanish to settle here were from Andalucía.
To get familiar with a country without being there, it is important to research and learn about the culture: the religious background, societal norms, economy, etc. For Spain, Roman Catholicism is the dominant religion, with over 70% of the population practicing it. However, 59% of those never or hardly ever go to church, indicating that the role of Roman Catholicism is largely historical and cultural, rather than explicitly religious. Spain is also a relatively progressive country when it comes to gender roles, as it is a top 20 country for Female Empowerment. It is also considered a very LGBT-friendly country. Economically, there is a large middle class, and the unemployment rate is quite high among youth (35 percent) compared to other EU countries. The unemployment rate is also very high among immigrants as well. When it comes to entertainment, Spanish music, as well as film, is gaining popularity internationally. Actors such as Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem are renowned internationally, and musicians such as Enrique Iglesias and Rosalía enjoy similar popularity.
One important thing to know about Spanish culture is that it is a low-context culture, This means that information is communicated in direct and precise ways, and not a lot is implied. However, while also a relatively individualistic society, family is still very important, and the concept of personal space demonstrates that. Friends usually greet each other with a kiss on each cheek, and at mealtimes, people usually eat together, often for hours. Another thing to keep in mind is that they have a synchronic time orientation, meaning that their pace of life is rather slow compared to the US. Things generally occur at variable times, rather than specific ones. One of the interesting things related to this concept is that people in Spain eat meals really late by American standards. Lunch is generally between 2-4, during the siesta, a more well-known concept associated with Spain. Dinner is usually between 9 and 11 PM, and people often stay up until two in the morning or sometimes later. Seemingly, life is very laid-back there, but that’s not to say that the Spanish aren’t hardworking or focused. Rather, they just approach things differently than we do here in the United States.
Throughout my research, one thing that has become clear to me is that the customs and the culture in Spain, or any other country, are not better or worse than they are in the US, just different. Obviously, some people may feel more comfortable with one way of life over another, but in my opinion, it’s beneficial to experience different things in a new environment. This is one of my main reasons for traveling and undertaking this sojourn, to experience new things and experience personal growth as a result. I hope that is one of your goals as well, because being open-minded about change is one of the foundations of an international sojourn, in my opinion. As I have enumerated some of the differences between Spain and the US, it makes me more eager to go there and see for myself these differences. Another one of the lessons I learned from my trip to Paris is that ultimately, despite all the differences, people are still people. They have the same baseline DNA and experience the same emotions. Part of the reason why we feel so distant from people of other cultures and backgrounds are because of familiarity and perspective. When you live your whole life in one place, life there is second nature, and you don’t realize how much of an impact it has on you until you go out and discover things that are different from it. So while the media focuses on the changes that make us different, the similarities I think are just as interesting. Personally, I want to go and discover the different types of people there are and how they see the world. I believe that building perspective will help me to find how similar we all are, even if separated geographically, linguistically, and culturally. It is my goal to understand as much as I possibly can about the world and our role in it, and that is a lifelong process. Going on an international sojourn is a means of achieving that goal, with exciting ramifications. Whatever your reasons are for going on an international sojourn, I hope you find that it impacts your outlook on the world, and that you are a better person because you decided to take the leap and discover something new.
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gyrlversion · 5 years
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When YouTube Reactions Stop Being Polite And Start Getting Real
Like cats with strings, days at the zoo, and bedroom sing-alongs, Youtube reactions videos are about as old as YouTube itself. For the past 10 years, the genre has maintained a relatively consistent look and feel, even as the platform around it evolved into the second-largest site in the world. Now, change seems to be catching up with it. Slowly but surely, over the past two years, YouTube reaction videos have been taken over by the pros. Lawyers, doctors, plant experts, and folks of seemingly every other kind of occupation are reacting to videos related to their line of work. Want to watch a Wiccan react to a YouTuber becoming a witch for a day? You can. How about a magician critiquing beginner magic? Or a music producer swooning over the harmonies in “Bohemian Rhapsody?” Those are available, too.
Professional reactions aren’t feats of filmmaking, editing, or artistry. Instead, their crowning glory is having breathed new life into one of YouTube’s oldest and most consistent pillars of content. Data confirms that professional reactions are having a moment: YouTube searches for videos with the term “react” in their title are the highest they’ve been since 2014 — the starting point for available data — and searches for videos with both “real” and “react” in their title (as in “Real Engineer reacts to The Big Bang Theory”) saw their biggest week in five years this past January.
Around the birth of YouTube, before video editing services were widely available, reaction videos were limited to home videos of children gleefully ripping open Christmas presents or reacting to The Scary Maze Game. As time went on, editing made it possible to superimpose videos on screen, alongside the reaction, allowing the viewer to watch them simultaneously.
For the most part, reaction videos on YouTube showed regular people reacting to mainstream movies, television, viral videos, fails, and memes. Anyone could react to anything, no expertise necessary. Over time, some channels attempted to set themselves apart with video titles like “dad reacts,” “couples react,” or even “Black guy reacts.” The Fine Brothers, the pre-eminent pioneers of the react genre, were granted trademark registrations for “Kids React” in 2012 and “Teens React” and “Elders React” in 2013 before eventually spinning out “Adult,” “College Kid,” “YouTuber,” and “Celebrity” react series as well. The new wave of professional reaction videos have taken inspiration from those series titles, adding “real” or “expert” to an occupation as a way to legitimize their content, as in “real chef” or “dinosaur expert.”
All reaction videos, professional or not, tend to stick to the same standard set-up. The reactor sits in front of a laptop computer or looks off-camera to a large monitor, positioned to one side of the screen to allow room for a video inlay in post-production. They press play and the reaction begins, with the audience at home following along through that little video-inside-the-video. The reactor adds commentary, sometimes pausing to complete longer thoughts before moving on.
But where reactions by non-professionals tend to be structurally loose and emotionally unbridled, pros take on a more constrained air of authority. They quibble over small details, and assert their expertise by recounting their own experience on the job. Their familiarity with the topic adds new dimensions to the viewing experience, which is especially effective in giving new life to classic movies or television shows that have been etched into the pop culture zeitgeist.
It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly when reactions got professional, but it was likely sometime in 2016. In November of that year, Wired uploaded a video that featured dialect coach Erik Singer analyzing accents in Hollywood films. The video, “Movie Accent Expert Breaks Down 32 Actors’ Accents,” was a hit and Wired expanded the series to include four more videos with Singer, in addition to the reactions of other professionals like a lawyer, a hacker, and the CIA’s former Chief of Disguise. Since then the format has absolutely exploded, with Buzzfeed, Glamour, SELF, New York Magazine, GQ, INSIDER, and countless independent YouTube creators making their own videos of experts reacting to or reviewing scenes from television and movies.
It was a video from the Wired series, “Surgical Resident Breaks Down 49 Medical Scenes From Film & TV,” that prompted Dr. Mikhail “Mike” Varshavski D.O., known to the Internet and his patients as Doctor Mike, to consider the reaction format for his channel. Doctor Mike began making videos on YouTube in April of 2017 out of frustration. In 2015, Buzzfeed had written up his Instagram profile, telling readers “You Really Need To See This Hot Doctor And His Dog.” After that Doctor Mike says that “what seemed like 1,000 other outlets” wrote about him, too, fascinated by the “paradox of seeing a good-looking doctor who is also practicing in real life.” People named him “sexiest doctor alive.” This exposure helped him attract more than one million Instagram followers, but he felt that his attempts to post “meaningful content” about medicine on the platform were futile. He saw YouTube as the right venue for educating a young audience.
Over the course of Doctor Mike’s first year on YouTube, his videos about medical myths and how to get the right amount of Vitamin D had attracted more than 380,000 subscribers to his channel. Still, he wanted to reach more people. While watching Wired’s video, a reaction struck him as a great idea. He had seen the success of a video he made comparing his life as a doctor to the portrayal of doctors on TV and decided to lean in to mainstream media’s depiction of him as “real-life Dr. McDreamy,” the fictional doctor from Grey’s Anatomy. In April 2018, he uploaded “Real Doctor Reacts to GREY’S ANATOMY,” which showed him watching the TV drama for the first time, pausing to provide his thoughts on when it was stretching the truth. The video was an immediate hit, with several million views in the first few days, and his follow-up videos reacting to The Good Doctor and House M.D. were similarly well-received. It was the spark his channel needed; less than one month later, he hit one million subscribers.
Inevitably, not everyone believed he was for real. Doctor Mike sees 30-40 patients a week in addition to writing for the American Academy of Family Physicians and making regular appearances on the Fox Business Network and various morning shows. Despite all this, he is still asked if he really practices medicine. Brad Mondo, a hairdresser with a popular series called “Hairdresser Reacts,” has fielded similar doubts from viewers. He no longer works day-to-day in a salon, but has seen strangers on Reddit talk about looking up his license to verify that he is qualified to be styling hair. That strikes him as silly. “What would be the point of me faking it?” he muses.
By the time Mondo hit upon his “hairdresser reacts” series, he had been creating content on YouTube on-and-off for about 10 years. As a teen, he “was obsessed with YouTube,” he says, but was never able to consistently attract an audience. Plus, he wanted to be a hairdresser, so he stopped uploading, went to school, and worked at a salon for a few years. When he returned to YouTube in 2017, he still struggled to find his footing. As a teen, Mondo had been a fan of the Fine Brothers’ React videos and recalled that one of his favorite creators, Elena Genevinne, had crudely bleached her hair on camera several years prior. On a whim, Mondo sat down to film his reaction to Genevinne’s video and posted it to YouTube with an innocuous title he can no longer recall. It blew up. A few days later, to increase the video’s already impressive traffic, he changed its name to “HAIRDRESSER REACTS TO AWFUL DIY HAIR COLOR! [sic]”
The series changed his life. In the two years since posting that first video, his channel has gained more than 2.7 million subscribers and he now owns his own hair care brand, XMONDO HAIR. He has diversified his channel content to include makeovers and reviews, but his reactions are more popular than ever, consistently pulling in between one and two million views each, despite the fact that they follow the same basic format as the original. Sure, Mondo has upgraded his bedroom to a shiny studio set-up and is noticeably more comfortable and charismatic on screen, but he is still sitting at a desk and reacting to a hair care fail. And viewers still eat it up, more than 100 reactions later. He thinks people even upload their own hair care fail videos to YouTube in the hopes he will find them and include them in a video. During a recent reaction, he was visibly delighted when a young woman attempting to dye her hair a neon yellow-green shouted him out. “Brad Mondo is crying,” she giggled as she applied dye to her roots. “Aww, hi Amy!” he smiled, “You’re in one of my videos now!”
Reactions from professionals can also add new layers of interest to pop culture touchstones we already love. Doctor Mike says people click on his video because they’re fans of Grey’s Anatomy, but end up sticking around for his commentary. It’s one of the reasons he doesn’t “want to let the hot doctor thing go” yet. “I can wear a flashy suit, be funny, be flirty, do something that’s going to get people watching [because] it means that I can be honest with the medical information, because I myself am the scandal.” At the end of the day, despite the detailed breakdowns of medical terminology he provides while reacting, “it doesn’t feel like you’re learning,” he says. And, for Doctor Mike, that’s kind of the point.
The honesty that Dr. Mike claims to bring to his videos may be the most compelling component of professional reactions. Experts provide a satisfying palate-cleanser to the unchecked proliferation of opinions online. In a “post-truth” world, there’s some relief in sitting down to watch a reaction based in fact and experience and grounded in authority. At the same time, reactions help us feel more connected to experiences we all share. A 2011 New York Times article summarizing the merits of reaction videos said that watching them not only allowed us to “vicariously recaptur[e]” the “primary experience” of our own reaction to something, but also reminded us of “the comforting universality of human nature.”
In a now-deleted video from 2016, the Fine Brothers said that they hoped that reactions they produced on their channels would “live on forever as a time capsule [that] people can look back on to see what various generations were saying about the culture and issues of our time.” It’s a grand vision for a genre a little over a decade old, but even Mondo is thinking that far ahead. He says he is happy to give his audience what they want for as long as he can. “I’ll be milking Hairdresser Reacts until the day I die!”
By Elizabeth De Luna
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