#Take me to the very beginnings of artists' careers when they played in pubs and small locations

[28whitepeonies]

Here is the full article (under the cut) since I can’t find a post to reblog where they haven’t tried to edit Louis’ life for him and it’s pissing me off

Louis Tomlinson is playing tour guide in London. He’s not giving a rundown of the best pubs, highlighting where to snag the best tea sandwiches or which museums are a necessary detour, however — he’s showcasing a misty, cobblestone passageway that could have easily been a part of the set of any Harry Potter film. “Lovely, innit?” he quips, balancing a computer in one hand while waving a cigarette around in the other. Yet this one — behind the renowned Konk recording studios, to be precise — is where he happens to be filming a documentary about his life and his relationship with his fans. In fact, Louis has spent most of the day propped up next to a piano, trying to recall long-buried details about his life. So a few drags were necessary, but he’s admittedly “buzzing” — both from talking all day and from the thought of his sophomore album, Faith In The Future, due this November.

It’s taken a minute for Tomlinson, who was catapulted into being under the microscope of fame in one of the biggest boy bands of the world at just 18, to be genuinely at peace with where his career is headed. No longer is he letting the anxiety or fear of who others expected him to be — or who he thought he should be — define him. He is both a man at ease and one whose excitement about this very moment in life is so palpable it fills the room with a constant sly chuckle.

But becoming this version of Tomlinson — one who's so unrestrained — has been a challenging process for him. Getting to a place where he could even make an album like Faith In The Future, which is primed for the energy of a live show and shies away from much of the acoustic aspects featured on his first record, has been a years’-long journey of learning to tune out the noise from others about what he should do, of quelling his own self-doubt, of really reconsidering who he wants to be as an artist.

“If I'm being honest, I could have made a second record that would be a bigger commercial hit than this will be. I am confident in that,” he says. Yet he craves something more meaningful. “If I can pull off an album, like I think I have, that is something I would actually listen to, sits in line with the stuff that I love and has references all over it that I think say something about me, that's so much more fulfilling than having a fucking No. 1 record. Because I got loads of them in a band,” he says.

Getting to this stage has, inarguably, taken a lot of work. But to understand who Tomlinson is now — and who he wants to be — it’s necessary to return to January 2020 when he released his debut solo album Walls.

Of One Direction’s four members, Tomlinson was the last to release one. Truthfully, the Doncaster, Yorkshire-born musician had long struggled to figure out what he wanted to say, who he was as an artist because he’d never really thought about what a solo career would look like. “I knew who I was in One Direction, but I'd never thought of who I am on my own as [a] solo [artist]. I was so in love with being in the band that I never really had those thoughts,” he says, settling back into the studio after his smoke break.

He spent three years “just treading water.” But the record’s title track helped him find clarity. “That was a moment where I was like, ‘OK, I can see my lane now," he recalls. Walls, which evoked the soft, snarling tone of Oasis (Tomlinson even gave a songwriting credit to Noel Gallagher), attempted to stray from his mainstream pop days with hints of Britpop and pop punk — a callback to when he was 14 and singing Green Day and blink-182 covers in his first band. But just as he was beginning his first world tour, the pandemic forced everyone into lockdown, allowing him to perform only two shows in Barcelona and Madrid.

At the time, he recalls, it seemed “really unfair.” “I just thought, ‘Well, when am I gonna get a break?’ Because I felt like I'd worked really hard and deserved to have those experiences and those moments,” he stammers. He felt angry, frustrated, purposeless. “I wondered if this was going to be my narrative for the rest of my life, where I'm just constantly frustrated that life wasn't dealing me the hand that I wanted,” he adds. Still, it felt like another pain point in his life.

In the years since One Direction went on hiatus, Tomlinson had dealt with a series of family tragedies. In December 2016, his mother died from leukemia just a year after his son Freddie Reign was born; roughly two years later, his younger sister passed away from an accidental drug overdose. But the 30-year-old singer doesn’t like to dwell too much on any of that. Sporting a black-and-white colorblock hoodie and sweeping boy band hairstyle (the one visible reminder of his One Direction days), he’s a gregarious, larger-than-life personality whose eyes widen as if he’s unraveling a ribbon around a Christmas present whenever he speaks; he’s a self-described “not very serious guy.”

Tomlinson was able to really embrace that part of himself when lockdown happened. After all, there had been little time to actually take a break during his years in One Direction, what with their five LPs and four world tours; and the years since had been flanked by working on his solo music and parenthood. “I've never had a moment in my career, where I felt the pressure that surrounded me had been loosened, and that was a really nice feeling because my life in One Direction and even post-One Direction, I'm constantly thinking about what the next thing is, how I can better myself as an artist and how I can get what I want,” he says.

It helped that Tomlinson was able to spend some quality time with his son, journeying between the U.K. and Los Angeles where he lives with his mother. There, he could put his “dad hat” on and have a purpose. But back in the U.K., the musician was like the rest of the world “watching lots of shit TV and shit films.” (“I fucking hate Love Island,” he yells. “I got no time for that.”) His version of bad entertainment was actually watching something “amazing” — he became enamored with the 2003 Red Hot Chili Peppers concert film Live at Slane Castle, which he viewed five times throughout lockdown. While he admittedly didn’t learn any new skills during that time (“I didn’t do no banana bread!”), he was able to really look inward.

Gone was the knee-jerk reaction to the news that the tour wouldn’t be going as planned — he snapped out of it. Instead, he found gratitude for the two nights he had onstage. “There might have been an element had I not had those shows that, by the end of lockdown, I would have convinced myself that maybe I'm not going to be able to cut it,” Tomlinson admits. Luckily those two concerts he did do gave him somewhat of a foundation for what his live shows would look like. So he joined the many artists who had been forced off the road and decided to host a virtual concert in December 2020 — “Live From London” — that raised upward of $1 million for four different charities. The 18-track set, which was livestreamed on Veeps, sold 160,000 tickets worldwide and earned him a spot a Guinness World Record for “Most Tickets Sold for a Livestreamed Concert by a Solo Male Artist.”

“It was fucking amazing. It was a moment where I'm just like, ‘Well, maybe I'm gonna have a good year when everything comes back to normal,’" he says awestruck. For the first time since the tour schedule had been jilted, he felt hopeful — inspired. “It was that first moment of, ‘If I could deliver a good album and I could deliver a good tour, maybe I'll have a good year because it looks like I've got people's interest,’” he says excitedly. The performance — the support from fans from afar — finally made him feel a little less lost.

“I know every artist says this, but I've got a deep fucking connection with my fans. I think of it as one entity,” Tomlinson gushes. “I was 18 when I was first in the band [One Direction], and we've grown up together.” Self-doubt, worry and a lack of confidence have, at times, plagued Tomlinson, to the point where he’s become co-dependent on them. “There's genuinely been times in my career where I've really needed them, like the livestream,” he confesses. “To show their support on the level they did, to make me go, ‘I can do this at a high fucking level.’” The aforementioned documentary makes sense now: Truthfully, he might not have come to that conclusion on his own without them.

With Tomlinson’s confidence gradually returning, he was able to take a step back and objectively analyze Walls — what he liked about it, what he didn’t. He found himself focused on how heavy the record was and how it didn’t fully represent who he was. “Although that was what I was experiencing in my personal life at the time, and I've always liked to be honest and quite literal in my lyrics, there was a weight to it emotionally, and that's not really how I carry myself as a person. I don't fucking like people feeling sorry for me,” he declares. The opinions — that noise — that came from being tied to the music industry machine for so long, he realized, had prevented him from taking risks.

Take for instance his collaborations with Bebe Rexha and Steve Aoki, his two dance-pop crossover singles that came out after One Direction went on hiatus. “That was me doing what I thought I was supposed to do, essentially, and what maybe other people thought I should do,” he shrugs. Tomlinson, however, pauses — he wants to be clear how proud he is of Walls. He had, after all, spent years writing it. But he’s left with some frustration about how he played it safe.

“I just wasn't brave enough. That's the bottom line. I wasn't brave enough sonically, and I wasn't brave enough to follow my heart and what I really loved musically because I was so reliant on other opinions,” he sighs. Of the songs on Walls, “Kill My Mind,” the pop-punk-charged opener that happens to be his son’s favorite song, was what he felt was emblematic of his sound. “That was the first moment where I felt the kind of energy and intensity and tempo that I was looking for out of my music and out of my live shows,” he notes. From the livestream and the two tour dates he played, Tomlinson knew he couldn’t get onstage and play fans 12 ballads, even though, he hypothesizes, “they’d still be fucking dead loud.”

That critical lens was instrumental in helping Tomlinson shape Faith In The Future, a title which he casually teased on social media last March. His goal with the record? To match the sweaty, screaming, enthusiastic fans in the crowd. “The thing I wanted to get out of this record, mostly, was to create a great live experience on the next tour,” he asserts. To do that, he had to trust his gut, which he found to be a daily struggle.

Tomlinson decided he had to rethink the songwriting process for Faith In The Future, so he opted to collaborate more with artists than with professional songwriters on this record. “Some professional songwriters, their intentions are quite obvious. It's their livelihood, so they're looking for singles, and unfortunately, when you look for singles, and there's that intention, in my opinion, it can affect the song and the reason that you're making the song.” Working with artists, at least in his experience, Tomlinson was able to have more natural conversations and focus on the heart of the music. There was also more freedom and spontaneity to it—and most importantly, authenticity.

“Bigger Than Me,” his new project’s anthemic, arena-sized lead single, aligns with his vision, as he actively fights back against the noise that crowded his mental space during Walls. It had everything Tomlinson needed to reset — it was energetic, ambitious, had scale and a sing-along chorus. “The bottom line is I wanted it to feel like a statement of intent,” he says of the track. For him, it was always going to be what introduced the record.

But within the record, Tomlinson isn’t afraid to toy with genre. While he was resistant to dance-pop music following his singles with Aoki and Rexha, he found a new appreciation for it thanks to the Australian rock trio DMA’s. “When I heard DMA's latest album that was produced by Stuart Price, those sounds were all over that record, but it's done in a very authentic, very credible way,” he notes. The fact that it was created in a way that wasn’t for radio play gave him “real food for thought.” “There were sounds that I would have maybe disregarded for the wrong reasons,” he explains. But dressed up by Price, his perspective shifted.

That incorporation of dance melodies is something that erupts on “Out of My System,” a pulsating, punk-tinged Arctic Monkeys-inspired track that recalls the heyday of early aughts indie rock. The day Tomlinson made the track, he had been listening to “Teddy Picker” or “Dancing Shoes” (he can’t quite remember), but he knew exactly what kind of music he wanted to make. “I went in and said, ‘Let's try to write a song that is as punk as I can get away with,’” he recalls. And he led with that kind of intensity and energy from early Arctic Monkeys albums to craft the song.

Tomlinson’s focus on intensity doesn’t extend to every song on Faith In The Future — at least not overtly. While he would have left the listener (hopefully) wanting more with “a wall of sound” on a record’s final track, he approached Faith In The Future’s closer “That’s The Way Love Goes” differently. The song, which was his take on the vulnerable simplicity of the Streets’ “Dry Your Eyes,” was the only track he could end the record on — one about a friend encouraging another friend to get over the fact that he’s not in a relationship anymore. “It's not the fact that you're not sympathizing. You're looking after him from afar, but you're not necessarily a shoulder to cry on,” Tomlinson explains.

Of course, Red Hot Chili Peppers, even if indirectly, influenced Faith In The Future. After watching their concert film, Tomlinson is convinced it’s affected his subconscious when he’s gone into the studio. But it’s a little more overt than that. Tomlinson sweetly bursts out of his chair while detailing how bummed he was to miss them perform with the Strokes and how he’d dream of collaborating with Flea (“Imagine him playing bass!”) and “next-level guitarist” John Frusciante.

The latter, he actually spent lockdown, doing a deep dive on, he explains: “I've pretty much top-to-bottom educated myself about his life and his journey and find that very, very interesting.” While much of Tomlinson’s self-doubt has dissipated, he’s hesitant to move too quickly on those. “I feel like I've got to show my own individual identity, embrace that and really drive it home before I would think about anything like that,” he notes.

But identity is a funny thing. Tomlinson’s boy band roots are still very much in his thoughts. While the band doesn’t have a group chat (“We’re shit like that”), the musician is “really proud of what they're doing.” “We're all watching each other from afar,” he smiles. “When we do see each other inevitably, it feels like not a day has passed.”

For now, however, Tomlinson is much more focused on his future — even beyond his own personal music career. Back in March 2021, the singer tweeted he wanted to start his own music management company, something that he can envision for himself. “That’s long game for me,” he explains. “There's a lot of interest and excitement for me in that space.”

When he was in One Direction, he was told he could have an imprint through his label at the time, Syco. “It was a certain genre of label, let's put it that way,” Tomlinson says, carefully choosing his words. “So where I found frustrations was I'd have this long list of different bands, occasionally solo artists, and unless I was bringing a ready-made Taylor Swift through the door, their ears weren't that interested.” Ultimately, many of the artists he believed in were scooped by other labels. But Tomlinson’s artist perspective, he believes, makes him uniquely adept in this area. In fact, he just hosted a competition for a new band to open for the festival he created and curates, Away From Home.

“I can look a little bit deeper, and I can also trust that maybe the future is going to look more exciting than it necessarily does right now on paper, whereas unfortunately, often record labels want to see the finished product,” he explains. Tomlinson remains on the lookout for new artists, but for now, the venture will be something he works on behind the scenes: “Are you going to see anything from me in that space in the next two, three years? Probably not. But in the next 10 years? I fucking hope so.”

#you bunch of absolute wet wipes #honest to god #get a grip #alt magazine

[tardis--dreams]

The doctor: anywhere in time and space, where do you wanna-

Me: Queen concert, 12th of July 1986, London, UK!

#Yes I have thought about where I would wanna go if the doctor invited me #Use that psychic paper as our ticket and let me see that concert! #Maybe get me to some early emo band concerts #Mcr black parade tour #Take me to concerts I missed due to being too young or being unaware of the artists back then #Take me to the very beginnings of artists' careers when they played in pubs and small locations #Take me to the sold out stadium concerts i never got tickets for #Just.. Take me to concerts #But most importantly the queen concert #(is it becoming too obvious that I'm craving concerts despite knowing I won't ever be able to attend one again? #And that I'm slowly going insane? #) #Started getting back into doctor who though which is nice #shut up amy #dw #(sort of) #queen #(kinda) #(not that Tumblr will allow me to find my own posts again no matter how detailed i tag them but whatever)

[damonjuicyscock]

The New singer-Chapter 1

Pairing: Dilf! Damon Albarn X Reader

Warnings: Language, maybe a few spelling mistakes (but as always, I hope not)

Words: 3094

A/N: Hello ! Here I am with this new fanfic with Dilf Damon ! Hope you'll like it. Smut will come sooner in this fan fic (On the fourth one). Enjoy !

My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I moved in London in 2012 when I was 18 to try to finally start a career in what has always been my passion: Music. I think I probably started singing when I was still in my father’s balls, because as far as I know, even my close friends always knew me singing. I was even singing so much that sometimes, people had to tell me to shut up. My parents were born in the 60’s and 70’s, respectively from hippie parents, and themselves became hippies. That’s why I was raised listening to some Jefferson airplane, The Doors, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix… But also with music like Depeche Mode, Duran Duran, Tears For Fears, Oasis, Blur, Radiohead, Nirvana… Anyway, I was raised listening to some good stuff

Before telling how it all began, let’s talk about my absolutely not normal parents, who created who I am today. When they met in 1991, my mum was in total New Wave emo mode. Ya know, like Robert Smith from The Cure? Well, nearly the same haircut, with some new romantic clothes like in the early 80’s. My dad was kinda punk and tried to look like some 1986 Dave Gahan. Them and their music taste met, and boom, 2 years later, here I was. 5 years later, my sister joined us. A real troublemaker, but a very good dancer, that’s what she is. When I was 6, they enrolled me in a music conservatory. It was a pain in the ass. But I learned a lot, even how not to sound like a nowadays Mariah Carey who has a lot of voice issues when singing. Why? Because my singing teacher made me sing some opera, so I sound more like an Amy Lee from Evanescence who can sing everything except some hardcore metal. At 15, I said bye bye to the conservatory to focus on my studies without having to care about anything else. I kept practicing every day, alone. But I also started to learn to play guitar on my own after discovering a fabulous Muse song called “Knights Of Cydonia”. I loved rock and had the fashion style that came with it. I wasn’t a girl coming from the city, I grew up in a small town where not a lot of people knew about some singer or band… London was the cradle of New Wave, Glam rock, also some punks if you forget a minute about the US and Germany. London had great artists; it was worth trying my luck in here. And only after 2 years of hardworking and trying my luck in pubs and other, with my mic, my acoustic guitar and my electric guitar, I signed with Universal. Oh, I was going to forget about the most important part. I said previously that I was raised listening to some good stuff like Blur. Well, I’m a big fan, but also a Gorillaz fan and a Damon Albarn fan. This man is talented, has a really beautiful voice, he’s a model to me. I can’t deny the fact that yeah, he was and is still a lot attractive. And that’s in 2016 that I knew how much, when he tried to get in touch with me.

Late 2016:

My phone rang. It was my best friend and also manager Thomas.

-Oi Tom!

-Oi Y/N, are you available right now?

- Well, you woke me up, but yes, why?

- I have something really important to tell ya. Can you meet me at the Starbucks coffee near Carnaby Street please?

- Well now that I’m awake yeah, when?

- Well let’s count you and me taking the underground… let’s say an hour?

-It’s okay with me, see ya!

I hang up and went to put some clothes and makeup on, tying my hair in a simple braid before picking my sunglasses, my bag, and locking my front door before going.

But once outside, I saw someone taking a picture. Another fucking pap, trying to have his pictures of the day. I was acting funny with them at the beginning, making pouts to troll their pictures, but after nearly two years of them tracking me, I was starting to be fed up. So, at this very moment, I decided I couldn’t control my middle finger anymore, and imitated Chris Pratt in the Guardians of the galaxy, before putting a big smile on my face. Yeah, okay. I was still trolling them in a way.

I entered the underground station, going to the Oxford Circus station. From here, I walked to the Starbucks coffee in Great Marlborough Street. Tom wasn’t here yet. So to recap, this idiot calls me because he has something urgent to tell me, and doesn’t bother to be on time. I was even afraid I was the one to be late!

For your information, He arrived 43 minutes after.

-Oi lovely, sorry for being late. He said out of breath

-Oi sir let’s-meet-in-an-hour, traffic jam? Oh no, sorry, you took the train, What the fuck were you doing?

-Masturbating. He answered sarcastically

-Verry funny Tom. Well, I’m used to you being late anyway, you are even capable to be late for your own birthday party you dumb fuck.

-It was 13 years ago Y/N. I am an important man since I’m your manager.

-And it goes to your head. Isn’t it supposed for the artist to be the one who becomes big-headed?

-S’not like I’ve never been before…

-maybe, but it’s getting worse. I interrupted him

-ANYWAY!

-What’s so urgent then?

-There’s… some singer who contacted me because he’s interested on your music, and he would be glad to collaborate with you on a song. He would like for you to sing the backing vocals on it.

- Oh cool! Who is it?

-Damon Albarn.

I spat my tea back in the paper cup and coughed.

-WHAT?

-Yup, I knew you would react like this.

- Damon Fucking Albarn wants me to do the vocals on one of his songs?

-Actually, I don’t have a lot of details ‘bout that, he just called and left me his number.

- He called himself? Not his manager?

-No, Damon Albarn himself.

- Then I guess I have to do the same and call him back by myself like a grown-up girl.

-You sure?

- I have to.

-As you wish, But as I know you by heart, I know you’ll get really nervous.

He was definitely right, but it was like pouring oil on the flames, so my only reaction was to slap him on the shoulder.

-Shut up Tom!

He laughed

- I also knew you would do that. I’m leaving you his number then?

- Of course you do! I answered

- Okay. Oh also, before I forget, Glastonbury, Reading, Lollapalooza and Coachella wants you.

- What are the dates?

he took out his little notebook from his pocket

-Glastonbury from June 21st to the 26th, Reading August 25th to 27th, Lollapalooza July 22nd and 23rd, Coachella April 14thto 23rd.

- Say yes to all of them and negotiate with Coachella. They have to give me a date that is before April 20th.

-Why?

- I’m taking my dear mama on a trip to celebrate her birthday in Mauritius. Thought I already told ya.

-You did, I just forgot to take a note.

He handed me a little piece of paper

-Here’s Kellogg’s all-bran’s number

-Hey, respect him!

He laughed again

We finished drinking our tea, talking about the coming gigs, our lives, and also about me writing my new album.

*

Tom had been right. I was on a verge of a panic attack before calling him. This man was all I admired, he was one of my favourite artists and definitely my idol. He had accomplished a lot in nearly 30 years. And I was so honoured, but didn’t understand why he wanted me, the new singer, to collaborate with him. I would be really lucky to work with him. I decided to light myself a cigarette before pressing the call button.

-Hello? I heard a male voice say dryly

-Hello, is this mister Albarn?

-Huh, yes?

-Hello… I’m…I’m Y/N Y/L/N, you called my manager Thomas. He… He said you wanted to get in touch with me?

His tone changed to a happy one

- Oh hi Y/N! How are you? Yes, I called your manager. Listen, I'd really like to work with you on a song for the upcoming Gorillaz album, you have a lot of talent, and after listening to your songs, I knew you would be perfect for a song.

- It would be a great pleasure to work with you! When do you want us to meet? I asked

- When are you free?

- Tomorrow if it’s okay with you, my remaining gigs are only in two weeks, so I have a bit of time.

- You seem like a hard worker, I like it! I’ll be at the studio at 11 am, can you be there by 11:30?

- I’ll be there!

- Alright. I can’t wait to finally meet you! oh and please, bring your guitar.

- Huh which one? Electric or acoustic one?

- The acoustic one, we have plenty of electric ones at the studio, and you wrote the best songs with it.

- Okay. Huh, could you just give me the address please?

- Of course! I was going to forget about that. I have an old man’s brain. I’ll text it.

- Okay.

- See you tomorrow then Y/N.

- See ya!

He hang up first, and I jumped in joy around my living room, until I heard someone knock at the ceiling. Fuck, I forgot I had neighbours. I decided to call Thomas.

-Did you call him? he said when answering

- I did, we meet tomorrow, I’m just waiting for him to send the address now.

- Well count at least 10 minutes before receiving it, he has a Nokia 3310.

- Stop mocking him mate! I know he doesn’t really like technology and he’s far from being wrong! Apart to work, I don’t have a lot of technological stuff myself.

-Said the one who’s addicted to social medias.

-I’m not addicted! it’s part of my work.

- Never mind, I’m happy you can meet him this quick. Oh I also called Coachella, you’ll be on stage on the 16th at 7pm.

*

The next day, I was on my way to the studio, but I was stopped a few times by fans who wanted to take a picture with me or for an autograph. Happily, I left early to arrive early. When I finally arrived at my destination, I was welcomed by Jamie Hewlett himself.

-Hello young lady. I suppose you are Y/N?

- I am. Mister Hewlett. Nice to meet you, I adore your work.

- Thank you miss. And call me Jamie, you’re my co-worker now. Damon is waiting for you in the other room. We’ll see each other during lunch.

-Alright, thank you co-worker, see you during lunch!

I took a deep breath before entering in the other room and I saw him. Last time I truly saw him was during a live near my place and I was only 5 years old. Yeah, my parents took me to a Blur gig in 1999, and my mum was a lot pregnant with my sister. But even if I was this young, I knew their songs by heart and had one of the best times of my life. Not every parent would do that.

- Hello… I said shyly

- Ah here she finally is! I was impatient to finally meet you Y/N! He said turning to look at me

He came towards me and went to hug me. I was a bit surprised; I didn’t expect that. But it was his way to welcome people. A pure sweetheart. I also had been told he was a simple and humble man.

- I was impatient to meet you too mister Albarn!

- Oi, there’s not mister Albarn with me love, call me Damon.

- Okay Damon. I wouldn’t like for you to think I talk too much but I feel it’s important for me to say that you are one of my favourite artists and inspirations, and that I’ve been dreaming of this collab since…well…forever. I said, with an embarrassed smile

- I’m glad to have such a meaning for you. Oh, you brought the instrument that creates such beautiful songs!

- Yup, here it is

I pulled my guitar out of its case.

- It’s a beautiful Fender you have here. Can I try it? he asked

I handed him the guitar

- Be careful, it’s my baby. I joked

He looked at me and pretended he was about to let the guitar fall on the ground.

- No worries, it’s in safe hands. He answered winking at me

God, he was going to be the death of me.

He started playing one of my songs to test the sound my guitar had, and I blushed.

- Didn’t know you even knew my songs by heart! I chuckled slightly

- - I’m your number one fan! He answered

- Oh… sorry to disappoint you, but my mum actually is.

- I’m the number two then!

- That’s adorable. Okay… should we start working?

- Absolutely young lady! Before we start, would you like a cup of tea? or maybe a coffee?

- No thank you Damon, but it’s really nice of you to ask.

We worked for about an hour and a half on a melody, and when Damon heard me singing the vocals, he decided that finally, I would sing on the whole song. What started as a collab would end up as a duet. It would be a featuring. No sorry, I’d be singing with 2D, but it means the same thing to me.

Lunch came, an occasion to get to know everyone, even if I was the one who had been the most questioned.

- So, Y/N, tell us about you! Jamie said

- Well, what do you want to know?

- Where you grew up, our childhood, your love for music… this kind of stuff. He answered

- Oh! Well, I grew up at first in the south of France where my mum was working as a college teacher, she’s teaching ethology. So, it’s like I was a bit French. I speak the language fluently. We came back in England when I was about 5. On the second part of my childhood, I grew up in a town around Dover, So I was going back to France often. I even studied there in high school; I was in a high school in Calais. I have a French baccalaureate, with a music speciality.

- Interesting! you may have heard of my wife then! She’s a French actress. Jamie said

- Emma De Caunes? Of course, I only saw her in one movie, but the family who was hosting me during my high school years were often watching extracts of a formal TV show her father was in. It was really funny. I even saw the extract when she called him live to tell him she graduated from High school!

- What movie did you watch? Jamie asked

- Mr Bean’s Holiday. In this movie you can even see the city where I grew up in the first part of my childhood.

- Cannes? Damon asked

- Nope, Avignon. It’s sunny and beautiful when you are in the old town. People are really nice in there.

- And so, where does your love and talent for music comes from? Jeff, the guitarist asked

- As far as I can remember, I was three, and three songs made me fall in love with music. There’s Beetlebum by Blur, Stand By me by Oasis and Bittersweet symphony by The Verve. I grew up with parents who loved the new romantics era, New Wave and Britpop. I was singing a lot and my parents decided to send me to a music conservatory to take voice classes. It was their way to tell me “We like you when you sing, but you’re singing too much and you’re giving us a headache”. My singing teacher mainly taught me how to sing opera. But I can thank her today, because she is the one who gave me all the right techniques. After graduating from high school, I came in London to try my luck and here I am today. Also, my parents took me to a lot of gigs.

- Which ones? Damon asked

- My first one was Blur in 1999, then I got to see Tears for Fears, Oasis, Gorillaz, Depeche Mode, The Cure, New Order…There is actually a lot!

- Wow, that means you were like 5 when you saw us live with the guys?

- Yup. You sang a particular version of B.L.U.R.E.M.I.

- The danger of drugs. Jamie said

Damon threw him a dark look

- I was so little, but I can still remember I had one of the best times of my life!

- Well, I’m glad you did. Damon answered

- Who are your inspirations Y/N? Jamie asked

- As you can tell, I’m a lot into rock. I’d say many artists from different eras. Probably some David Bowie, Joan Jett, Blondie, The Clash, Oasis, Blur, Nirvana, The cure, The Smiths, U2, INXS… there’s so much. Oh, and also Queen. I’ve always been in love with Freddie Mercury’s voice.

- And you’ve probably been fancying Roger Taylor like every girl. Jamie added

I blushed

- I absolutely don’t know what you’re talking about.

Damon laughed seeing me blushing

- ‘S nothing love, we understand. He said

- I had the privilege to meet Brian May, he is really a nice man.

- And so… yesterday, you told me on the phone you had a few gigs left? Damon asked

- Yes, in Paris and here, in the U.K.

- Does it mean you’ll be back in the studio for some more masterpieces?

- I’ll be back in the studios yes. Don’t know yet if it’s going to be a masterpiece though. I have a few ideas, like a ballad, but here, I have no idea where to start.

- I can help you. Well only if you want to. The singer said

- Really? I said, sparks appearing in my eyes

- Of course! I’d love to! he answered

#damon albarn smut #damon albarn #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn fanfic #gorillaz #alex james #jamie hewlett #fanfics

[everythingadelaidemusic]

This week I found out more about the talented country music sister duo, Ella and Sienna.

Can you tell us a little history of yourselves?

We started out busking around the Adelaide Hills in 2018 and soon started gigs at our local pubs and wineries later that year. We have been performing now for three years professionally.

How did Covid change your approach to releasing music and your approach in general?

It has been really difficult for many industries and musicians/performers especially throughout the COVID-19 pandemic. Unfortunately many gigs and festivals that we were to play have been cancelled or postponed over the last two years. We have also recently been planning a trip interstate to record new music but these plans have had to be changed multiple times due to border restrictions. However, around the start of the pandemic in 2020 we started a Facebook Livestream series which went really well. We have been able to reach over 30,000 views on our live videos and support others going through tough lockdowns by sharing our music.

I am a big fan of your song “Save your Breath” can you tell me the meaning of this song?

Our debut single 'Save Your Breath' was written at the beginning of 2020 after the devastating bushfires that affected most of Australia. It's about the tragic losses suffered from the bushfires, in particular the wildlife and our local community in the Adelaide Hills. We felt it was really important to deliver the message of physically taking action to achieve change rather than just reacting with empty words.

What is your career highlight?

It's tough to narrow it down to one highlight! Our career highlights would have to be either winning the Ekka (Qld Royal Show) Country Music Festival in 2019, performing our original song 'Save Your Breath' on Main Stage at the Tamworth Country Music Festival and placing 2nd in battle of the buskers. Another moment we will never forget is when Kasey Chambers joined us onstage and sang her song 'Ain't No Little Girl' with us during the Tamworth Festival!

Where is your favourite venue in Adelaide to play?

Our favourite live music venues in Adelaide would have to be The Gov and the Murray Delta Juke Joint. We have played many times on the Gallery Stage at The Gov with our band and the atmosphere at these venues is a great vibe. We also have our first ever gig with our band at The Wheatsheaf Hotel on September 26th which is not one to miss!

Have you got an opinion on the Adelaide Music scene?

It is very interesting being an acoustic pop/country act in Adelaide as we are quite different to the rest of the music scene, however we are looking forward to playing at new city venues and hopefully joining some lineups with well-known Adelaide bands.

Who are the other Adelaide bands worth checking out?

Our bassist, Sebastian Brook also plays in a large pop/funk band called Malibu Drive. These boys are definitely worth checking out!

What are your long term and short term goals?

In the future we are really looking forward to playing more band gigs, festivals and would love to put together a small tour. We are also very keen to release new music soon!!

Finally, where can people find out more about you?

https://ellaandsiennamusic.com

Instagram: https://instagram.com/ellaandsiennamusic

https://open.spotify.com/artist/3EEPuGTwFLu8FgE7Hpao78?si=6jluPjl6Tw2vKmPyfRlKpg&dl_branch=1

https://www.youtube.com/c/EllaSiennaMusic

#Spotify #piano music #australia #art #music #piano #bass #guitar #drums #singer #songwriter #duo #south australia #keyboards #country music

[colour-outside-the-liness]

Hi Colour! How are you doing today? I don't know about doing meaningful things with my life, feel like I've just been surviving this entire time lol. However I am trying to figure it out and working on building the life I want to live and hopefully I will be able contribute to this world in some way.

I don't think I've ever played a game of trivial pursuit. Have never been to a pub either, not like the ones you have in the UK anyway. Just been to very dirty bars where me and my friends used to drink as much as we could afford, shared questionable food that could potentially make us sick the next day and there were no quizzes or games really haha. So your exp sounds way more fun! 😂

I'm glad you're giving the song a chance! Only Spotify knows how many times I've listened to it lol. I reckon Hozier's going to be my artist of the year for 2021. I love attributing works of art to Dani x Jamie, have a whole ass Pinterest board full with images of paintings, poetry, music and anything that I think relates to them really (yeah I know, I have a problem).

I love everything you've said about how Dani, Viola and the lady in the lake are alike, I hadn't really thought about their similarities before, but everything you've said makes perfect sense. I always saw Viola as a narcissist, even her drive to protect her child felt selfish in a way, don't know if you know what I mean. And when she fades away and becomes the lady she's just pure (almost animalistic) instinct while on auto pilot, bc she only remembers rage and abandonment, she takes anything on her path aggressively unless they're a child. So what she sees in Dani is not processed logically, right? It's pure instinct and emotions, so what she recognizes in her when Dani invites her in is the desperate need to protect this child, so she sees her as deserving. Perhaps she also saw in Dani and opportunity to escape this nightmare. Despite all her faults she didn't deserve what happened to her either.

And don't get me wrong, Jamie is so, so strong and solid and she is my favorite mostly bc I identify with her personality more than Dani's. But we know Jamie is all that even before we learn her story, and I feel like it is expected that she'll be the strong and brave one bc she's had to be that her entire life albeit unwillingly. But Dani? We expect her to break at any given point, I mean she is reaching her limit after all that's happened, with all the weight she's carrying. I remember thinking "Jesus, this girl needs help" when I first watched the show hahaha. But she fights every damn time, she doesn't run away and that's why I find her so fascinating. That's why I thought this song was so fitting. Even if Dani would never see herself that way. But it's Jamie's perspective (and fire signs tend to exaggerate everything 😂) so it feels fitting that she thinks so highly of her baby haha. Ugh I just wanted them to stay together forever. 🥺

Omg yes! I love how you refined this idea, good thing you're a writer and I'm not hahaha. And yeah I'm absolutely here for sapphics with weapons like holy shit imagine Jamie fighting with a sword? 🤤 I'm weak. Hahaha would be cool to see them in a pirate AU too! Maybe someone's already done it? Idk. But aaaah I want to see them in every possible universe hahaha. Makes me want to get back into drawing too. 😩

Aww you two sound like you have a lovely bond going on. Your niece sounds like the coolest! I started out drawing anime too when I was a kid and ended up doing graphic design for a living! How did learning how to draw anime style go for you today?

Hey I'm doing great thank you I hope you are too? I know that feeling because I feel like that's how I have made it to 27 just surviving (barely) and taking things one day at a time to get me to this point and hopefully I can contribute in some way even it its just a small way... so I totally get that feeling but I am sure you contribute so much without you even realising it!! Oh it's great but depending on how competitive the people you're playing with are it can get pretty heated... I've been in some heated games of it before because people just refuse to believe I know the answers to some of the questions and they think I've been cheating and have all but demanded I have another question asked instead of the one I got right... and pub quizzes can be fun again depending on the team you're in and how seriously you wanna take it I have been in teams where its been a serious thing and we have all desperately wanted to win and then I've been in teams and we've just had fun with it... all the pubs I go in are dirty bars too but sometimes they have pub quizzes... I have had many nights where I have drank what I can afford... one night me on my roommate went over board though and we ended up spending ALL our money even our taxi fair and we had to walk home in the dark along country roads with hardly any lights to guide us... because of how drunk we were it too us around 3-4 hours and I fell over a road sign and ended up in a ditch... I've had a lot of fun experiences but some really stupid ones as well... your experiences sound great though!! I would love that!! I listened to the song and I loved it so much!! I don't even wanna know what my most listened to artist will be this year... my money is on it being the Six musical soundtrack... probably All You Wanna Do from that musical I'll be surprised if it's anything else. I would love for it to be someone like Hozier, but ever since I have done my Spotify wrapped thing it's always been a musical of some kind that's been my number 1 song / artist haha I love doing the same thing. If I can make something fit Dani x Jamie I will like it doesn't even matter what it is haha... I don't think you have a problem I think that sounds so cool!! I have nothing like that. I just have a head full of random ideas screaming to be let out I agree Viola is definitely selfish and narcissistic and everything she did came from a place of anger and rage over the things that happened to her she fell in love and got married and had a child and saw her sister try and take that from her while she was ill and in the end her sister killed her. Like yeah, I do feel sorry for Perdita with the way she was treated but I do think everything Viola did was out of frustration over what was happening to her. Like you said she acts on auto pilot and only knows rage until it comes to children- because all she knows is she is looking for a child so when she saw Dani so selfless sacrifice herself for a child she saw a little bit of herself in Dani she knows Dani is a good person and she can relate to that protective streak and I think she did see Dani as deserving I definitely agree with everything you've said here. Viola might have had faults and flaws and who doesn't? But I definitely think she had it rough and did deserve better than she was given. I agree, you can tell looking at Jamie that she is strong and brave while Dani comes off as the exact opposite. But I think you see fully how brave they both are when Dani sacrifices herself for Flora and when Jamie offers to keep Dani company and loves her despite knowing she won't be able to love her forever. I love Jamie but definitely relate to Dani's personality more, there are a lot of things Dani does that I see myself in her because I have done those types of things myself and the whole beast in the jungle speech resonates with me so much and every time I watch the last episode and hear that speech I am a crying mess from that point on. It's funny that you thought that about Dani when you first watched it, because me and my sisters got my mum to

watch it and she said the same thing about Dani "she needs help" but then once told me she liked Dani because she reminded her of me that was an interesting conversation to be a part of "Dani needs help... but I like her she's like you." I was like "Thanks?" I agree this song is definitely more how Jamie would see Dani, I think Dani just has a very blasé view of herself, like I don't think she's self conscious or self deprecating in anyway but I think she sort of walks around like "this is me and this is just how I am" where as Jamie just sees Dani for how brave and strong and amazing she is- maybe even if as a fire sign she exaggerates a little bit haha Jamie just thinks Dani is the most amazing person in the world and I just know that Dani saw her the same way!! I really wanted them to be together forever... I am never going to emotionally recover from Bly Manor. Your idea was incredible and I think it would be a great story to read honestly that's the type of thing I live for!! OMG Jamie with a sword is just 🤤 🥵 I am all for sapphics and weapons of any kind!! There's this pirate AU which is absolutely amazing!! I don't know if you've read it or not but iamalekza writes some really great fics!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/28631598/chapters/70179306 ^^ Pirate AU I really wish I could draw I would love to be able to draw scenes from fics I have read and even ones I have written but I just don't have the skill set for that!! I would love to see other fan arts though I think drawing is such an incredible talent to have and I am in awe of anyone that can do it!! Me and my niece have a great bond, she's like a little mini me (despite almost being as tall as me). She is honestly such a cool kid I have a hell of a lot of fun with her- I'm looking after her again tomorrow and I have no idea what we're gonna do but we will figure something out... she's such a good drawer she's only just started doing it at the beginning of the year and she's really progressed with it... I however have not so I am definitely gonna need more practice. That's so cool that you started out doing anime drawing and then ended up going into a career in graphic design. Again that's a talent that I am just in awe of because it's just something I have never been able to do!!

[unadulterated-strawberryniall]

Normal People, Abnormal Jobs. [Chapter 2]

Normal People, Abnormal Jobs. Relationships in the entertainment industry are never easy. Scheduling is nearly impossible, paparazzi hound you down every date, and everyone seems to weigh in their opinion. Is it possible to have a soulmate with such a demanding career?

Loosely inspired by the 2020 Hulu drama, Normal People, this story explores the possibility of finding true love in a world motivated by reputation, scandal, and money. Touching on themes of love, mental health, and adulthood, Normal People, Abnormal Jobs navigates how two musicians from opposing worlds maneuver a destiny that consistently pulls them together. It’s challenging, yes, but if it’s true love, it’s worth it.

Chapter 1.

The thumping bass of whatever house music was playing was starting to give me a headache. I wasn’t really one for the club scene. I fell more into the hole-in-the-wall pub scene. Better yet, just having a glass of wine at home. 230 Fifth, one of New York’s iconic rooftop bars, felt like a universe away from where I really wanted to be.

It felt like I had been waiting here for hours, when in reality, as I checked my watch, I’d only been here for 23 minutes. I yawned as my phone screen flashed, reminding me of tomorrow’s packed schedule. I know I hadn’t been here long, but it all felt useless, and I figured now would be a great time to make an escape.

Pushing through the crowd on the dancefloor, I started to think how silly I was for even showing up in the first place. After finishing my interviews, I threw myself into a complex beauty routine, exfoliating my skin, tweezing any loose eyebrow hairs, and giving my nails a fresh coat of polish. All on the off chance I ran into Niall tonight, which clearly wasn’t happening.

Would your nails seduce him? Would he be so wowed by your clean eyebrows that he’d want to sleep with you? Stupid. Waste of time. Of course he doesn’t want you.

Don’t go to war with yourself.

If he wanted to see you, he’d be here. With you. You’re getting stood up.

Everything that’s happening to you is what’s supposed to be happening to you, so just relax.

I gave my head a shake, hoping the motion would physically shake the voices from my mind. I felt someone grab my wrist, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“‘Ey! I was hopin’ I’d see ya tonight!” The accent rang through my ears, over whatever high pitched synth was ringing through the speakers, and immediately brought a sense of relief. “Are ya leavin’?” He raised an eyebrow at me, flicking his gaze from my eyes to the direction of the door I was heading to.

“I…” I couldn’t find the words to say as the grip from his fingertips left me feeling more intoxicated than any cocktail I’d ever had.

“Let me treat ya to a drink.” He took a step closer to me, placing my hand on his chest. “What would ya like?”

“Vodka cranberry.” I breathed out, just loud enough for him to hear. My fingers grazed against the open buttons of his shirt, where little wisps of chest hair poked out. He grabbed my hand again, leading me to the bar.

As he leaned over the counter top to catch the attention of a bartender and order our drinks, I couldn’t help but begin to think how hauntingly beautiful he was. My eyes scanned his body, from his hair, thick and perfectly disheveled, to the flecks of gold in his facial hair, to his biceps, which flexed gently as he leaned against the counter, to his long, skinny legs, that ended with the off-white converse on his feet. I felt breathless around him. My stomach began to twist, and I placed a reassuring hand against it while taking a deep breath.

Niall glanced at me. “You alright?”

I didn’t respond immediately, but the bartender commanded his attention with the drinks before he could say anything else. He had ordered something dark, perhaps a rum and coke? I couldn’t tell.

“Let’s find somewhere t’ chat.” He whispered in my ear, leading the way out of the club to an outdoor portion of the bar. 

Since most of the party was focused on the dancefloor, this area was nearly empty, and Niall pulled me over to the balcony. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He looked out to the various buildings, most notably, the Empire State Building. The building was flashing rainbow lights towards the top.

“Yeah, it is.” I mumbled. But I wasn’t looking at the skyline. I was looking at Niall. A light breeze ran through the air, whirling a tuft of Niall’s hair with it. He turned to face me and smiled.

“That was a fuckin’ great performance earlier. But I saw ya cryin’ after. Everything ok?” He took a sip of his drink, not taking his eyes off me.

I blushed. “Oh, well… I’m fine now. I was dealing with a lot of anxiety leading up to this. First performance in a long time, you know? I guess it was just a release after the build up. I dealt with a lot of mental shit throughout the pandemic. Anxiety, depression, isolation… Not that I was the only one but… It was tough.” I realized I was rambling and took a sip from my glass to fill the silence that ensued. The ice rattled against the glass as my hand shook uncontrollably.

“It’s very brave of ya t’ talk about dat.” Niall pointed out.

“I didn’t mean to.” I looked down. 

Niall took a step closer to me. “No, it’s great. We need more people like ya. I deal with dat shit too sometimes. I don’t like to talk about it. You’re much braver than me.”

I shrugged, unsure of what to say. I wasn’t the best at handling compliments, and I hardly thought going on about mental issues was worthy of one.

“I didn’t get to catch your performance. Wish I did, though.” I placed my half-empty glass on the table beside me.

Niall turned out to face the view, leaning against the railing. “Eh, it was alright. Happy to be back on stage.”

“I didn’t think you’d be into my music, to be honest.” I chewed my lip, wondering what the hell caused me to say that.

That was the small talk you chose?

“What makes you say dat?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“I’m a bit more… grungier than your sound.” I was referring to my brand as a punk artist, while I knew Niall had settled into an acoustic pop genre. In honesty, I hadn’t heard much of his music myself. But I would have to live under a rock to be unaware of his presence in One Direction.

“I listen t’ everything. Rock, rap, country, dubstep.”

I laughed, but Niall kept a straight face.

“I’ve been following you for awhile. On the charts.”

“Wow. I wouldn’t have expected that.”

“There’s no one like you, Mina. You’re one of a kind.” Niall turned to face me once again, and I realized he’d already finished his drink. Our bodies were brushing up against each other at this point, and I could feel myself being drawn into him like a tidal wave.

“Is what I think about to happen going to happen?” I closed my eyes, feeling Niall’s breath hit my face.

“Yeh.” He whispered.

“I don’t think it would be good... If people found out…” But my hands were already slinking their way around his waist.

“No one would have to know.”

And before I could get another word out, his lips were pressed against mine. 

Fire, electricity, all the forces in the universe clashing together and colliding between us. I pushed my body against his, desperate to feel him. All of him. His hands were placed gently on my cheeks, which were growing hotter by the second. He nipped his tongue against my bottom lip, making me crave him even more. I nibbled at his lips, praying to every possible deity that this moment would never end.

Why are you so obsessed with him? Creepy bitch.

This is nice. Just let yourself be happy.

You don’t deserve to be happy.

I pulled away almost immediately, bringing my hands to my eyes.

“Are ya okay?” Niall mumbled simply, although he looked like he’d just been hit by a truck. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were wide. He was taking soft, shallow breaths.

“Fine.” I coughed, swallowing the lump in my throat. “That was nice.” I turned back to face him, forcing a smile.

He peered at me for a moment, but didn’t press whatever curiosities he had further. “It was. We should do it again.” He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine.

The sheer force made my knees feel weak. I wanted to collapse. It was all too much, too soon. My stomach twisted. I felt at any moment I was going to be sick.

This time, Niall pulled away. “Mina, I can feel something’s wrong. It’s alright. We don’t have to do dat anymore.” He nodded, taking a step back to give me space.

I leaned against the wall of the building, tilting my head back and closing my eyes. I took deep breaths to steady myself, cursing myself for reacting this way. I couldn’t figure out exactly how long I’d been standing there, but when I opened my eyes, I noticed Niall sitting in front of me, watching me intensely.

“You don’t need to stay.” I whispered.

“Of course I do. I’m not leavin’ you out here alone.” He shook his head. “Take all the time you need, I’ll get you back to your place when you’re ready.”

“Niall-” I began to protest, but he stood up and pressed a finger to my lips. I wondered if he was aware of the effect he had on me.

He returned to his seat, giving me a nod.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, before the pandemic, I went through this breakup-” I started again.

“You don’t need to explain anything t’me. Just relax.”

I stared at him for a few more moments before deciding it was time to wrap up the night. Niall hailed a cab for us, opening the door for me and helping me in, all without letting go of my hand. He never pressed for conversation, he never pressured me to kiss him, he simply offered a hand to hold. A hand that I held desperately until the very end of the cab ride.

“Would you like me to walk you to your room? Obviously not to…” Niall paused. “But t’ make sure yer safe.”

I nodded. My eyes felt heavy and suddenly, I couldn’t stand the thought of not being in bed anymore. Niall helped me out of the taxi, and I dragged my feet along the shiny hotel floors, my eyes closing while Niall led the way. It suddenly occurred to me how emotionally draining the day had been. The anticipation leading up to the performance, the breakdown after the performance, the interviews, and of course, everything with Niall. I was too tired to feel anxious anymore. I could feel myself slipping in and out of consciousness.

I don’t remember getting to my room, or changing into pajamas, or even falling asleep. But I do know that the following morning, when my alarm blared to wake me up for today’s interviews, a pair of beautiful, blue eyes greeted me as I opened mine.

#niall horan #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fanfic #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #fanfic #fan fiction #1dff #njh #niall #niall james horan #normal people abnormal jobs #1d #npaj

[jaskierswolf]

You Set My Heart Ablaze Pt.2/25

Previous

Triss Merigold was bloody exhausted. The start of the school term was always the worst. She had barely had a break for the whole of the first two weeks. She flopped onto the sofa in the staffroom with a dramatic sigh. She loved the kids. She hated the parents. Already she’d been caught up on the phone with parents from the younger tutor forms just calling in to check up on their little darlings. No matter how many times she or the other teachers assured them that the school would notify them of any problems. The parents of the older kids were just as bad, blaming the teachers for their bad parenting skills and insisting that all their children should have been top of the class.

“It’s not that bad Triss.” Istredd Gynvael from the Feainnewedd tutor group hummed.

Istredd was the history teacher for the secondary school children and looked after one of the year ten forms. Overall he was well liked by most of the students, he wasn’t a strict teacher but Triss knew the students sometimes found his classes on the dull side. Not that Triss would ever tell him that. No, that little tidbit was between her and Yennefer alone, maybe Tissaia…

She’d never tell the Headmaster, Stregobor, at least.

“You don’t have to talk to the parents until parents’ evening, Is.” Triss moaned. “I have to deal with them all year round. They all think their angels can do no wrong.”

“We become teachers for the children. The parents are an unfortunate side effect.” Istredd sighed.

There was a murmur of agreement from across the staffroom.

“Sabrina’s mum called me a disgrace and failed artist last year.” Tissaia sighed as she turned a page in her book. “Apparently, they weren’t happy that I gave their daughter some constructive criticism on the use of lighting in her portraits. I’m not going to just throw compliments at every student. They’d never learn otherwise.”

Tissaia de Vries was the school’s art teacher. She was also the form teacher of Forget-Me-Nots, one of the year six classes. She’d been the person to encourage Yennefer’s career as an artist ever since she’d been a student at the school. It had been because of Tissaia that Yennefer had started teaching in the first place.

“Oh hang on!” Jaskier perked up from where he was scribbling in his notebook. “I happen to like the parents of my class.”

Triss rolled her eyes. Jaskier had dropped by her desk at reception at the end of the first day to ask for all the parents’ contact details so he could write his weekly emails. He’d been particularly interested in Ciri’s dad. Of course, Ciri was an interest to all the teachers at the school. She’d already been through hell and she was only six years old. The young girl didn’t seem all that bothered on the surface about her sudden change in circumstances. It was all a bit peculiar.

“That’s because you are a bit of a freak, Julian.” Mr Marx drawled from his corner of the staffroom.

Jaskier’s face turned to thunder and slammed his notebook shut.

Jaskier and Valdo Marx had known each other since before Jaskier started at the school. Their rivalry was legendary amongst the staff. No one was entirely sure of the details behind their feud. From what Triss could tell they had been at University together, both studying music at Oxenfurt. They had had some kind of falling out at some point. No one was really sure what about but last Solstice things had flared up when Valdo had had an affair with Jaskier’s partner. It was also Valdo that had told Stregobor and the rest of the staff that Jaskier’s birth name was Julian, something that her friend seemed to despise. Valdo refused to call Jaskier by his chosen name which never ceased to end in an argument between them.

This time was no different as Jaskier coiled up like a spring, ready to pounce on the other teacher.

“Call me that again one more time and I’m putting in a grievance. Wally.” Jaskier sneered. “Some of us actually care about the children we teach, and that means taking an interest in their home life and working out the best way to teach each child individually.”

“Name calling, Julian. How original.” Mr Marx smirked and patted Jaskier on the head as he moved to leave the room.

“Oh fuck you!” Jaskier called after him. “He’s just bitter because all the year twos wish they were Buttercups and not Foxgloves.” He muttered.

“He’s just bitter because he doesn’t get to talk to Mr Rivia at parents evening.” Triss sighed wistfully. “I would climb him like a tree.”

Jaskier’s scowled faded into a blissed out smile. “Oh he is dreamy isn’t he? Those eyes, like molten amber and that voice. Gods, it’s like sex personified.”

Triss giggled. “I knew it!”

Jaskier went wide eyed and slammed his hands over his mouth. “I said that out loud didn’t I?”

“Must you all be so dramatic?” Istredd called over Triss’s squeals of joy. “I’m trying to mark homework.”

“I think we’ve all earned a break, Istredd, if you want to mark in peace go back to your desk.” Tissaia hummed with eye roll.

Istredd sighed. “Just keep it down, maybe try and remain professional.”

“Oh come on, Is. You’ve not seen him. Geralt Rivia is hot!” Triss nudged her friend.

“Geralt? Yen’s ex?” Istredd put down his marking with a sudden scowl.

“No no no!” Jaskier whined. “Please tell me, I’m not competing with Yennefer Vengerberg!”

“Don’t worry Jaskier, that ship has long sailed. Isn’t that right, Is?” Triss winked at the history teacher. Istredd’s fingers gripped tighter around his pen and he muttered something under his breath before burying his nose back into the sheets of paper in front of him.

“Alright!” Jaskier called. “How many people here have had a crush on Yennefer Vengerberg? Hands up!”

“We’re not your kids, Jaskier.” Tissaia rolled her eyes at the younger teacher’s antics.

“True.” He admitted. “But humour me.”

Triss unashamedly put her hand up. Istredd was next. Chireadan was next and a handful of the other staff. Overall, just over half the staff in the room had their hands up.

Jaskier was not one of them.

“Not your type, Jask? I thought everyone was your type?” Triss teased.

Jaskier gasped and put his hand on his heart. “Triss! Just because I’m bisexual does not mean everyone is my type! She’s hot. I can admit that, but she fucking terrifies me.”

“And Geralt doesn’t?” Triss asked with a roll of her eyes, deciding not to point out that she was pansexual and already knew the myths of their sexualities were not true. “He could probably snap you like a twig.”

Jaskier beamed. “Oh I know!”

“Do we need to chaperone parents’ evening, Jaskier?” Tissaia asked cooly but her eyes were twinkling with amusement.

“I’ll have you know I am a professional!” He gasped in mock outrage. “But yes absolutely. I have no idea how I managed to talk to him on the first day. Gods, he looked at me and I wanted to melt. I could write ballads about those eyes.”

“Please don’t” Istredd sighed. “Geralt’s not that great.”

“Oh come on, Is, you just don’t like the fact he used to date Yennefer.”

“Yenna is better than him.” Istredd scowled.

“Oh ho ho!” Jaskier laughed. “Are you going to finally ask her out then?”

“Shut up, Julian.” Istredd hissed.

“Jaskier’s got a point, Is.” Triss gave Istredd a pointed look as Jaskier visibly bristled at the name. “But what about you and Geralt?”

Jaskier grumbled as he moved to retrieve his notebook. “Nothing. There’s nothing about me and Geralt. He’s a parent and I am a professional.”

Istredd sighed loudly and gathered up his belongings and left the room. Tissaia chuckled as she sipped her tea and continued to read her book, but seemed to be content with the gossip that was rife in the staffroom. Other teachers were beginning to file out as the lunch break was ending.

“But you fancy him.” Triss persisted as she checked the time on her phone. She didn’t need to be back at the front desk for another ten minutes and she didn’t have to worry about lesson planning like the other teachers. Her job did have some perks.

“So do you.” Jaskier shot back. “I am simply appreciating that Mr Rivia is a good-looking man but his daughter’s in my class and you know me, I fall in love with everyone I meet.”

“Except Yennefer.” Triss pointed out.

Jaskier paled at the memory. “I have met Yennefer once and I genuinely thought I was going to die a terrible and painful death.”

“Oh it wasn’t that bad.” Triss giggled.

_________

Yennefer didn’t come back to school very often when she was in town but occasionally she would pick Triss up if they were going to the pub after school finished. Sometimes Yennefer would glide through the halls of her old haunt to reminisce over her days as a teacher, popping in to say hello to her old colleagues. The first time she’d visited after Jaskier had started teaching she’d visited her old classroom, the classroom that Jaskier now occupied.

“What the fuck has happened to my door?” Yennefer glared at the bright yellow monstrosity that stood at the entrance to her old classroom. During Yennefer’s time at school the door had been painted lilac with elegant black silhouettes of flowers.

Jaskier had rather a different approach. His door was so bright you almost needed sunglasses to look at it and his class had drawn their own buttercups to cover the door. Their teaching style was completely different too.

Yennefer luckily had been in charge of an older class and mostly taught English Literature and Language to the Secondary school children. Yennefer was firm, and at times strict, she demanded respect from her students and many of them ended up in detention for missing out on homework or mucking about in class. Yennefer’s theory was that by messing about it was both a waste of her time and theirs. Yennefer was not a lover of wasted time. Every action she took was planned down to the letter. She knew what she wanted and how to get there. Her writing was very much the same.

The scripts she wrote for the school plays were intricate and beautiful. Every line, every stage direction, every detail in the costumes had some hidden meaning that would be revealed later on in the play. As a director she was fierce and many of the older students were scared shitless after their time in the theatre but many also went on to attend drama schools. Yennefer could have become an award winning author, actor or director but that wasn’t where her passion lay.

Yennefer Vengerberg loved art.

She always had ever since she’d studied at the school under Ms de Vries. She was a remarkably talented painter but her real skill was in her reviews and critiques of others art. Her analysis was unparalleled and her wit and sarcasm had drawn in a wide audience from all across the Art world.

As soon as she’d been able to earn enough money from her work at a critic she’d flown from the school, much to the delight of her poor students.

Jaskier on the other hand was a ray of sunshine. He was the sun to Yennefer’s moon. The kids adored him and almost everyone on the staff fancied him, not to mention the parents. His charm could have melted the heart of the ice queen herself and had to got him out of many a bad situation in the past, of course it had gotten him into just as many tight spots as well. Where Yennefer was unwaveringly focussed and unrelenting in her teaching, Jaskier was easily distracted and flitted from one topic to another like a whirlwind. He was kindhearted and nurturing to the children, playing his guitar almost every day and encouraging the kids to be the best they could be. He was entertaining and fun, and every child wanted to be in Buttercups.

The layout of the building had changed a lot since Yennefer’s time and this section of the school now housed the primary school classes which was why Jaskier’s class was now in the old English room.

Yennefer burst through the door, Triss trailing behind her. “Seriously! What the fuck?”

Jaskier jumped up from behind his desk, knocking his paper work all over the floor. “Bollocks! Shit! I mean… oh cock!” His travel mug tipped over as he scrambled after the the sheets of maths homework. Coffee poured everywhere, including down his teal floral shirt.

“Triss!” Yennefer snapped. “Why is there a child teaching in my classroom?”

Triss sighed and walked over to help Jaskier save his marking from the coffee that was now leaking onto the floor. “Yen, this is Jaskier Pankratz. Our new year two teacher.”

“What are you, twelve?” Yen asked raising her eyebrow at the young brunet.

“I’m twenty-six!” Jaskier pouted. “I just have good genes and quite frankly a fabulous skincare routine. Did you want a copy?”

“Are you saying I look old?” Yennefer smirked at Jaskier who visibly started to panic.

“Oh no. No no no. You look very radiant, ethereal! Eternally youthful. Please don’t kill me?” He fell backwards in a fluffy of maths homework.

“Oh dear god.” Yennefer covered her face with her hand. “I thought this place couldn’t get any worse. Come on Triss, there’s a couple of bottles of wine with our names on it. See you around, Buttercup.”

“See you on Monday, Jaskier!” Triss passed him a handful of sheets she had managed to salvage from the coffee.

“Holy mother of…” Jaskier breathed as he stared after the hurricane that was Yennefer Vengerberg.

_______________

Triss giggled at the memory. It had been just under three years ago, back when Yennefer and Geralt were still going through their off and on again stage. Jaskier had looked like a deer stuck in headlights in the fierce presence of Yennefer. Triss knew her friend could be quite intimidating but underneath it all was a loyal friend. A lot of her scary demeanour was just a mask to hide her insecurities. Yennefer wanted everything in life, a family, a career, fame, money, power. She wanted it all.

But she was so terrified that she would never be enough, never deserve the things that she desired. Her relationship with Geralt hadn’t help. They burned brighter than the sun on their good days but their fights could have risen the Gods from their slumber. They pulled and pushed at each others souls, tearing each other apart. Triss had never met Geralt before Ciri had started at the school but she’d been there for Yennefer every time he broke her heart.

“It absolutely was that bad.” Jaskier pouted. “I ruined my favourite shirt and made a complete fool of myself. She was looking at me with murder eyes!”

Triss patted his arm sympathetically. “If Yennefer wanted you dead, Jaskier, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

Jaskier staggered back and stomped over to pick up his guitar case and satchel. “Wow. Thanks Triss. That is… so comforting.”

The bell chimed in the corridors, signalling the end of lunch.

“Bollocks!” Jaskier cursed and scampered out of the room. “This is all your fault Triss Merigold.”

Triss smirked after him. “You love it, Buttercup!”

_____________

Triss pulled her thick wooden green coat around her. It was surprisingly cold for the end of September and she’d forgotten to bring gloves. She was on home time duty this week which mostly involved waiting in the playground with the kids for the parents who had yet to learn how to read a damn clock. She stuffed her hands in her pockets in a poor attempt to keep them warm. At least her hair was long and thick enough to keep her ears warm. She daydreamed happily about a warm bath and a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and whipped cream.

“Ms Merigold?” A small voice broke through her daydream and she felt hands tugging at her coat. She looked down at Ciri who was staring back at her with tears in her eyes. “Where’s Coën?”

Triss glanced down at her watch and bite her tongue to stop herself from swearing. Ciri’s babysitter was over thirty minutes late. It was unheard of. He was normally waiting at the gates as soon as the bells rang to signify the end of the day, but today Ciri was the last kid left.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Come on, let’s go inside and I’ll give Geralt a call.” Triss took the young girl’s hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. Ciri clung on to her tightly and sniffed, wiping her eyes with her free hand.

“What if he’s hurt?” Ciri asked quietly.

“I’m sure he’ll be alright.” Triss reassured her, wishing that she could believe her own words.

The pair of them hurried back inside and out of the cold. Triss let go of Ciri’s hand so she could search her desk for the file where she kept the emergency contact details.

“Mr Jaskier!!” Ciri cried and flew off down the corridor.

Triss looked up to see a very confused primary school teacher, guitar case slung haphazardly over his shoulder, struggling with an armful of small child. His leather satchel had dropped to the floor, books spilling out with a clatter.

“Ciri?” He stammered before he regained his composure and met Triss’s gaze with a worried look.

“Coën’s in trouble!” Ciri cried. “He’s going to leave me! Everyone always leaves me!”

“Oh Ciri.” Jaskier returned the girl’s clinging hug as she sobbed against his chest. “Ms Merigold is going to call your dad. We’ll figure this out together.”

Ciri sniffed loudly but nodded. “‘Kay.”

Triss found Geralt Rivia’s number with ease and dialled, praying that he would answer. She made a mental note to get Coën’s number too, he picked up Ciri most evenings during the week, depending on Geralt’s shift pattern, it was foolish that the young man hadn’t provided his contact details.

The phone rang three times before Geralt’s gruff voice answered.

“Geralt.” He grunted.

“Geralt, Hi. This is Ms Merigold, from Ciri’s school.” Triss started.

“Fuck. What’s happened?”

“Coën didn’t show at pick up today. Mr Pankratz is here with Ciri but she’s not taking it well.” Triss explained in a rush. She glanced over at Ciri and Jaskier. He’d sat down on the floor with her and seemed to be distracting her with a story. She still looked shaken but had calmed down and appeared to be completely captivated by the stories he was weaving.

“I’m on my way.”

Triss didn’t get a chance to reply as Geralt hung up the phone and the line went dead. She strolled over to Jaskier and Ciri, sitting down beside them. Jaskier glanced up at her without pausing his tale of knights and bards and princesses, and she nodded.

Ciri wasn’t an idiot though. She cut Jaskier off mid-sentence. “Is my dad coming to pick me up?”

“Yeah. We’ll wait here until he arrives yeah?” Triss suggested. “No point staying in the cold.”

“Is Mr Jaskier staying?” Ciri asked with wide eyes.

“As if I would leave you here!” Jaskier gasped and placed a hand over his heart, dramatic as always. “You are one of my Buttercups and we stick together!”

Jaskier pulled out his guitar whilst they waited for Geralt Rivia to arrive. Triss always enjoyed watching Jaskier play. She didn’t often get the chance. She knew he played for his class but her job kept her at her desk for the majority of the school day and they didn’t socialise that much outside of work. Occasionally, a handful of the teachers would head to the pub on a Friday evening but it wasn’t exactly the place to start playing acoustic guitar. Usually she’d only get to see him play quietly in the corner of the staffroom if he was working on a new song, or occasionally at a school event.

This was different though, it was intimate like a lullaby being sang in the dead of night. Triss was completely enchanted by her friend and was really starting to wonder how he wasn’t a famous musician. She’d expected him to play something uplifting to distract the young girl but Jaskier seemed to have other ideas. He played a song about heartbreak that was so full of yearning that even Triss could feel the telltale prick of tears in her eyes, and it seemed to do the trick. Ciri cried too but it wasn’t the chaotic full-bodied sobs from before. Tears rolled down her freckled cheeks quietly and Triss suddenly understood.

Jaskier was allowing the young girl to grieve.

He was telling her, through his music, that it was ok to be scared. It was ok to have these feelings and to cry. The teachers had all been concerned that Ciri didn’t seem to have processed the trauma of her young life very well and here was Jaskier, drawing out those emotions that the young girl had kept tucked away. Coën not turning up had triggered something in Ciri, some fear of abandonment that no one had realised had developed.

Triss smiled as she wiped a tear from her eyes. The young teacher had more depth than she’d realised. She’d underestimated him, perhaps they all had.

“Ciri!” Geralt came rushing through the doors, shattering the moment into a thousand shards of shimmering glass.

The girl in question squealed and flung her tiny body towards Geralt. Jaskier almost dropped his guitar in surprise and even Triss jumped a little at the sudden rush of movement.

“Dad!” Ciri cried as she wrapped her arms around her father.

“I’m here, Princess. I’m here.” Geralt reassured her in a low voice.

“Where’s Coën?” Ciri asked wide-eyed.

“Flu. He text me but it didn’t come through until I left work. I’m sorry.” Geralt explained as he kissed her hair. The silver-haired man then looked up to face Triss and Jaskier. “I am so sorry. What do I owe you?”

“Owe us?” Jaskier spluttered. “Geralt.”

Jaskier said the other man’s name like a prayer, fervently and full of adoration.

“You would have been home over an hour ago if it weren’t for me.” Geralt insisted.

Triss noticed with barely hidden glee that Geralt was focussed almost completely on Jaskier. Triss was certain that she could have slipped away and back to her car, and Geralt wouldn’t have noticed. So it seemed that Jaskier’s little crush wasn’t quite an unrequited as he thought.

“Geralt, it’s our job to ensure the children are safe. It was simply an unfortunate and completely unforeseen event. This is not your fault, nor is it Ciri’s or Coën’s. You owe us nothing.” Jaskier insisted.

“Hmm.” Geralt hummed but continued to watch Jaskier intently as the younger man packed up his guitar. “Thank you.”

“That’s quite alright, Geralt. We’re happy to help, right Triss?” Jaskier blushed and looked towards her.

Triss smirked. “Delighted, Mr Rivia, but try not to let it happen again, or I’ll have to inform Yennefer.” Triss teased.

Geralt scowled but Ciri perked up at the name. “Auntie Yennefer?!” She squealed in delight.

“An old dear friend of mine, Ciri.” Triss nodded, throwing a smile at the young girl.

“Please don’t tell Yen.” Geralt groaned.

“Yeah, Ms Merigold. No need to get Yennefer involved.” Jaskier mumbled, glancing down at his feet and then back up at Geralt.

Geralt peered at the brunet. “I thought you only met her once.”

“A story for another time I think.” Jaskier blushed and sent her a warning glare.

Triss rolled her eyes. “Ask Yen next time you call her.”

“Dad.” Ciri tugged Geralt’s arm. “I’m hungry.”

Geralt growled. “Right. Time to go. Thank you for keeping her safe, Ms Merigold. Jaskier.”

“Anytime!” Jaskier replied brightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ciri! See you, Geralt.”

“Have a good evening you two.” Triss waved them off.

Once they’d left the building, Jaskier sank to his knees and groaned.

“Alright there, Jaskier?” Triss teased with a laugh.

“Fuck me, he’s gorgeous.” Jaskier buried his face in his hands. “This year is going to destroy me.”

“Wouldn’t you rather Geralt destroy you?” Triss giggled as she pulled him to his feet and linked their arms.

“Triss Merigold!” Jaskier gasped. “No, no. You’re right. Oh good lord!”

“Ask him out.” Triss suggested.

Jaskier laughed weakly. “Not gonna happen. Stregobor would have me quartered.”

“Coward.”

“Absolutely! Come on, I think we deserve a drink! To the pub!” Jaskier announced loudly and together they finally left building for the evening.

______

Next

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #triss merigold #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #yennefer of vengerberg #geralt x jaskier #teacher!jaskier #fireman!geralt #you set my heart ablaze #wolfie's witcher writing

[wistfulcynic]

The Ballad of Emma and Killian

This began life as a little drabble of rockstar!Emma and actor!Killian--not my favourite trope but I thought I’d give it a try. And then @thisonesatellite FORCED me to actually like it and once I did it kept getting bigger and bigger until it became DRABZILLA and had to go in Secret Things instead. SO. 

Part 8 of Secret Things. This one is really very sweet. Struggling young artists in love stick together through the hard times until the good ones come. A little slice of life with just the teensiest little bit of Neal being an asshole and getting what-for. 

Summary: They aren’t famous when they meet, or when they fall in love. As the years go by and their careers flourish along with their fame, their love endures. 

Words: 2.2k Rating: T Tags: actor au, rockstar au, fluff, secret relationships

On AO3

Importing the tag list from Drabbles, apologies if you didn’t want a tag here: 

@thisonesatellite @kmomof4 @teamhook @courtorderedcake @jonirobinson64 @tiganasummertree @stahlop@mariakov81@facesiousbutton82

The Ballad of Emma and Killian: 

They’re not famous when they meet. Her band is still playing bars and clubs and he’s barely managed to scrape a few minor roles in local theatre. They’re not famous, but they see the potential in each other. 

“You’re brilliant with that,” he tells her, nodding at the guitar she’s slung over her shoulder. He’s had just enough to drink to give him the confidence to speak to her but not so much that he’s going to tell her he came here tonight expressly to see her play. 

“Oh yeah?” She has her eyes on the barman mixing her drink, doesn’t look at him until she’s got it in her hand. “Do you—” Her eyes widen when she turns towards him, and a smile tugs the corner of her mouth as she slowly takes him in. “—play?” she finishes finally. 

He’s grinning wide, flattered and more than a little turned on by her bold appraisal. “Only a few chords,” he says. “I’m an actor mostly.” 

“Of course you are.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that you’re really pretty. I bet those eyes show up well on camera.” 

“I wouldn’t know, love, I’ve not managed to land anything that requires a camera quite yet.” 

“You will.” 

They end up in her hotel room, a nondescript place on the Lambeth Road. She shrugs and says she’s got far better things to spend her money on than somewhere to sleep, then proceeds to make that dingy room the most memorable place he’s ever been. 

The next morning she has to head off early, to Manchester for her next gig. He walks her to the tube station and  kisses her in front of it, then pulls back, memorising her face. 

“Nice to meet you, Emma Swan,” he says. 

She smiles. “And you, Killian Jones.” 

—

Emma plays a dozen gigs in Manchester and word begins to get out. On the band’s last night in town an A&R rep is in the audience, and when she wakes up the next morning she has a record deal. She should be happy, she knows; she is happy, thrilled in fact, but she can’t get those blue eyes out of her head, or the wistful note in his voice when he said her name. 

She goes back to London, back to the pub where they met. She goes with no hope or expectation, and when she sees Killian there at the bar her heart leaps and when she sits beside him and he grins in delight she feels like she’s come home.  

—

“I have a record deal,” she tells him, after. 

His whole face lights up. “That’s brilliant!” he says. “You’re brilliant.” 

She flushes at the praise and he takes her hand, twining his fingers with hers. “Emma,” he says, looking around the bland room they’re in. “Nothing against your taste in hotels, love, but I wonder if you would care to see my flat. It’s not much but it’s better than here.” 

It is. He lives in the attic of an old house, fitted with a tiny kitchen and tinier bathroom, and a bed that folds out from the faded sofa. 

“A garret!” She laughs. “Perfect for a starving actor.” 

“That’s exactly the aesthetic I was going for,” he says, laughing with her. He wraps an arm around her shoulders. “It suits an emerging musician as well.” 

She snuggles into his side. It does. 

—

They get married in a simple ceremony at the Southwark registry office; far too soon, his brother says with frowning disapproval and her parents Skype them from Maine to say the same, but they don’t care and they don’t listen. They are sure of each other, and deeply in love. 

The first few years are hard. Emma has to tour to promote her album and Killian takes every acting job he can, always hoping the next one will be his big break. The album is a huge success and the tour is extended; she is exhausted and burnt out and misses her husband, but she loves her music and the thrill of performing for the huge crowds, and they call each other every day, no matter what. His unwavering support keeps her going.  

—

Her fame grows and she begins to do interviews, answering probing questions about her music and her life. The interviewers don’t ask her if she’s married and she doesn’t volunteer the information. She doesn’t wear her wedding ring onstage —she doesn’t like anything on her fingers when she plays— and she allows people to keep the conclusions they draw. The interviews appear online and on television, and soon Killian starts to hear people talking about her. He beams with pride whenever someone says they like her music, and when the remarks touch on the personal he simply shrugs them off. People can be assholes, but he knows his wife. 

When her tour finally finishes they take a vacation— a month in the Seychelles, just the two of them in a beach hut with crystal blue water stretching out to the horizon. It is pure bliss; she unwinds for the first time in more than a year, and by the time they’re back in London the two of them are expecting a third. She tells her manager she’s taking a break to write some new songs and spends the next year in their tiny attic flat, playing her guitar and growing her baby, and watching her husband perform in his first lead role on the West End. People keep to themselves in the neighbourhood where they live, and if anyone recognises ‘the cultural heir of Nancy Wilson crossed with Jack White’ or ‘British theatre’s fastest-rising star’ the tabloids are not informed. 

They have never been happier. 

—

They’ve been married nearly five years when Killian’s big break finally comes. He lands a role in an American TV show and brings his family with him when he moves to Boston for filming. Emma’s on tour again but she Skypes him and the kids —they have two of them now— in their new place and tells them she can’t wait to be there. She tells him in private that his eyes look great on camera, as she always knew they would.

His new costars know he’s married, of course, he talks about his wife a lot but refers to her only as ‘Emma,’ a common enough name that no one thinks anything of it. The show is a breakaway hit and he finds himself suddenly famous, suddenly the focus of more female attention than even his handsome self is accustomed to, and fielding interview questions more probing than any he’s encountered before. He doesn’t hide his wedding ring but he also doesn’t mention who his wife is. His marriage is private, and there’s enough scrutiny on his personal life as it is. 

—

“You know who I’d really like for this role?” the lead showrunner says to Killian one day, discussing a new character being introduced in the show’s third season. “Emma Swan. Do you think she’d be interested in getting into acting?” 

He chokes on his coffee. “How would I know?” he asks cautiously. 

The showrunner shrugs. “I know you’re a fan of hers,” he says. “I’ve seen your Spotify. Anyway, it’s pure speculation. I think she has the perfect look for the character, but I’ve got no idea if she can act.” 

“Well, I’d love to work with Emma Swan,” says Neal Cassidy, the show’s secondary male lead. “Whether she can act or not, she’s a hell of a piece of ass. Nothing hotter than a chick who plays guitar.” 

Killian concentrates hard on not punching the man in his leering face. He’s had to listen to a lot of people talk about how hot his wife is over the years and most of the time it doesn’t bother him, even when the remarks veer into the lewd. But he’s never really clicked with Cassidy, and the idea of the smug arsehole trying it on with Emma makes his blood boil. 

“If she does join the show, I’m sure one way she’ll act is professionally,” he says stiffly. “And I’d hope the rest of us would too.” 

“Oooh hooo,” says Neal in a taunting singsong. “Someone’s got a little crush.” 

Killian gets up from the table and tosses his coffee cup in the trash with deliberate control. “If anyone needs me I’ll be in my trailer,” he says. 

—

“I had an interesting call from my manager today,” says Emma over dinner that night. “Apparently I’ve had an offer to read for a part on your show.” 

“Yeah,” Killian replies. “Bob was telling me he thinks you’d be perfect for the role. What do you think?” 

She shrugs. “Acting’s really your thing. I wouldn’t want to step on your toes.” He’s sure she means this, but there’s a wistfulness in her voice and he knows she’s getting tired of all the touring and would love something more stable that didn’t take her away from their kids. 

He reaches across the table to take her hand. “You wouldn’t be, love, you know that,” he says, smiling at her. “If this is something you really want to try, you should try it.” 

She smiles back, warm and soft. Her smile will be great on camera. “I think I will then,” she says. 

“Good.” 

She squeezes his hand. “I love you, Killian Jones.” 

“And I you, Emma Swan.” 

—

“Hey, hey, did you see her?” Neal elbows him in the ribs and once again Killian has to suppress the desire to respond with his fist. 

“Who?” he asks, though he knows the answer. 

“Emma Swan, bruh. She’s meeting with Bob right now. She walked right by me on the way to his office and lemme tell you, she’s even hotter in person, if you can believe it.” 

He thinks of his wife as he saw her that morning, all messy hair and tired eyes, cradling their youngest in her arms and singing softly to her as she nursed. “I can believe it,” he says. 

“Hair like that, man, you just wanna wrap it around your fist and pull—” Killian turns his back and stalks away before he can hear what Neal wants to pull, reminding himself firmly that beating up a costar is frowned upon in the industry, and he would like to work again once this show ends. 

He goes to his trailer and waits for Emma to finish her audition. Ten minutes later she slips through the door, flushed and glowing, and walks straight into his arms.  

“How did it go?” he asks, as if he can’t read the answer on her face. 

“They want me to start filming next week,” she replies, and her smile is radiant.  

“That’s brilliant!” He hugs her close, grinning into her hair. “You’re brilliant.” 

She leans back, studies his face. “And you’re sure you don’t mind, babe? I can still say no—” 

“Absolutely not, you’ve earned this and Bob’s right, the character is perfect for you. Though it does mean we’ll probably have to tell people we’re married.” 

She laughs. “Well, it’s been eight years now, I guess it’s about time we came clean. Plus it’s not like it’s a secret as such, it’s just something we’ve never told anyone before.” 

He joins in her laughter and then he kisses her, a sweet, soft kiss that soon turns hot. She’s never visited him on set before, of course, and he finds himself overwhelmed by the desire to make love to her here, in this place where he has spent long days of filming sitting alone and missing her.  

He lifts her onto the back of his armchair, pushing her skirt up her thighs so he can stand between them. She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and grinds against him. They are lost in each other —this is how it’s always been between them— and neither of them hears the door to the trailer open or senses Neal’s slack-jawed presence until he manages to close his mouth and find his voice. 

“Son of a bitch!” he yells. 

Emma and Killian break apart and turn to glare at the intruder. 

“What the fuck, man?” shouts Neal. “Aren’t you married?”

“Aye, mate.” Killian is fuming, his jaw clenched and his eyes like shards of ice. “Allow me to introduce you to my wife. This is Emma.” 

Neal chokes and his eyes go wide as he clearly tries to remember just how disgustingly offensive he’s been about Emma Swan. 

“Look, man,” he stutters. “I’m sorry—” 

“No you’re not,” says Killian coldly. “But you are unwelcome. Kindly fuck yourself off now so my beautiful wife can fuck me.” He turns back to Emma, who pulls him in and resumes their kiss. 

Neal stumbles and nearly falls as he backs out of the trailer, still stuttering apologies, but they are too busy tearing off each other’s clothes to notice. 

—

They weren’t famous when they met, or when they married. But they are when they announce their relationship to a press and a public that goes mad over it. They’re at the top of every gossip site and trending on every social media network. Offers of joint interviews come pouring in, all of which they decline, which —people and the internet being what they are and what it is— only adds to their mystique. They are the story of the decade— for nearly an entire week, until Neal gets caught soliciting a prostitute who turns out to be an undercover cop, and everyone forgets about Emma Swan and Killian Jones. 

Which is just the way they like it. 

#cs ff #cs ff au #actor!au #rockstar!au #actor!Killian #rockstar!Emma #captain swan #cs fic #secret relationship #secretly married #secret things #the ballad of Emma and Killian #profdanglaisstuff #fluff #cs fluff

[looselucy]

Us & Them

April 14th It was 9am, and Chloe had been talking my ear off for the past 45 minutes, gabbing down the phone about something or nothing and absolutely anything.

“And literally, it has only been a matter of weeks since I said to Libby, we need to go to a city soon or something because we need to get laid, and she was like nah, and now I know why. She was already getting laid. Louis was laying her.” “He was.” I giggled. “Do you think he’s good in bed?” “Can’t say I’ve ever really thought about it.” “Really? I think about what everyone would be like in bed. Girls included.” She told me. “I think Louis is one of those who isn’t much special until he gets to know your body, then he’s well good.” “What do you think I’d be like?” I sniggered. “Slow and sexy.” “Awh, thanks Chloe!” “Lin goes like a rabbit for hours. Libby probably likes kinky shit. Niall is up for anything. Harry is hard but passionate. I mean, he’s a self-defence teacher and an artist. I bet that juxtaposition is an absolute treat.” Due to how spot on her description of what Harry would be like in bed was, I genuinely started pondering over just how accurate her other predictions were. I was blushing, rolling over on my bed to stare up to the ceiling. “Mm, I bet.” I bit my lip. “Whoever gets to find out is a lucky girl.” “Tell me about it.” She groaned. “Hey, what’s the plan tonight? It’s Harry’s birthday, right?” I was still surprised by how things had played out in terms of us knowing about Harry’s work and his secret coming to light. He’d been so composed and laidback about all of it, so understanding and almost humorous. He’d opened his sessions up again the following Wednesday on the 10th, followed by our weekly trip to The Tin Mouse, and even when they’d all grilled him and gotten excited, he’d been so fine about all of it! I suppose he really had expected at least one of us to have known for longer anyway; it wasn’t unfamiliar to him, having people know about his work. It wasn’t like all the stuff with his family, which was private and his own to share. His career had opened doors and broken down walls and left him exposed in ways that couldn’t be reversed, and he seemed to understand that. His work was a spectacle in ways his private life needn’t be. It was different. In a strange and unpredictable way, it actually seemed as though he felt better for us all knowing, as though a weight had been lifted. Maybe him being back in Rosebury was a big contribution to it, but over the past week or so, it felt like it was the happiest I had ever seen him. He was beginning to open up in ways I hadn’t foreseen, slowly stitching the pieces of his life together to create something whole. I was sure even a few short months earlier he wouldn’t have even thought to tell us about his birthday, but he’d been excited and planned an evening to celebrate. He was doing so unbelievably well. I was ridiculously proud of him and how wonderful he’d been about everyone knowing. He was more interested in the news about Louis and Libby than anything else. “He’s forced Gina to get the karaoke out,” I confirmed. “So it’s a night at The Royal Rose for us.” “Brilliant, what’re we singing?” “You’ll have to get me really bloody drunk to make me sing.” “Happy to do just that. Me, you and Libby could be Destiny’s Child.” “OR, the Bee Gees!” “That’s the spirit!” There was a knock on my door, and I had to make an educated guess that it would be Harry. All he’d said was to keep my day free, and I imagined it would be a day in bed before a night in the pub. It sounded perfect to me. “Okay, I gotta go! I’ll see you tonight though.” “See you to-Night Fever.” She blurted, sounding rather proud of herself. “Also, by the way, I’m very loving but feisty in the bedroom, in case you wanted to know.” “I didn’t, but thank you.” “Can you confirm if I’m right about what you’re like in bed? How deep is your love, Alfie?” “Goodbye, Chloe!” As soon as I’d hung up I leapt to my feet, scuttling over to the door, eager to see Harry again. It had been less than 12 hours since I’d last seen him, but after a night sleeping in our own beds it somehow felt like a lifetime. I’d been up early that morning to get some basics done in the shop with Louis since we weren’t opening that day, and I’d made the decision not to stay at Harry’s the night before, a decision I regretted rather quickly. I swung the door open, practically jumping with glee over the sight of him, about to grab his face and kiss the life out of him, but he didn’t give me the chance. He snaked around my side, standing behind me and putting his hands over my eyes, holding his body close to mine. “Harry,” I cried. “What’re you doing?” “Clearly, it’s a surprise.” He leaned to my ear, trying to waddle the two of us forward and lead me out the door and down the stairs. “Wait, what? It’s your birthday. Surely I should be the one surprising you.” I tripped almost instantly. “Shit, fuck, couldn’t this have waited until after we’d tackled the stairs?” “That’s not as fun. Less risky.” “That sounds so much better to me.” “Careful, there’s a step there!” I was appalled by how unfamiliar I seemed with my own home, Harry having to yank me back to him so I didn’t go tumbling down the flight of stairs leading outside. I could feel his body jittering as he held me back, the two of us already in fits of laughter at my inexcusably weak attempt to manage even the first step. He kept my eyes covered as he rested his head against the side of mine, and we were already tittering so much I didn’t think I’d ever be able to manage the rest of the stairs. “Guide me better!” I howled. “They’re fucking steps, they’re not that complicated!” “Fine, fuck you, I’m going.” I took a steady stride, gradually beginning to move downwards. “Happy Birthday, by the way.” “Thank you, boss.” “I’m scared. Should I be scared?” “It’s a good surprise, I promise.” “Still scared.” “Don’t be.” We reached the bottom of the stairs much quicker than I’d been expecting, trying to take another step down which wasn’t even there, which made me stumble forward again, the whole endeavour much messier than it should have been. We took a few steps outdoors before Harry halted, bringing us to a standstill. My stomach was in knots. “Ready?” He asked quietly. I shook my head, but that didn’t stop him from lifting his hands off my eyes. I burst into tears the second he had. Because standing right in front of me, on the gravel beside my car, was my dad, my mum, and a rather timid looking nurse stood behind them, watching us with a smile on her face. He’d gotten them back to Rosebury. After almost five long years, he’d gotten them to come home. Both of them. I slapped my hands against my mouth, gripping my eyes shut, and I just stood there in floods of tears. I didn’t have the capacity to do anything else, all I could do was weep. It was so absurd and overwhelming that I couldn’t make sense of it, the fact they were both actually there, stood right ahead of me. It had been so many years, and for so many months I’d been trying to encourage my father to come back, if only for a day or two, but the fact it was actually happening was preposterously peculiar. My dad took a few steps forward and took me into his arms, telling me it was okay, to stop being silly and stop crying, how happy he was to be back, to see me again. I was floored.

“He paid for all of it.” My dad whispered across the table, nodding towards Harry, who was stood ordering our food at the counter in PJ’s. “The nurse, our journey here. He got us a medical van, just in case anything goes wrong. He paid for all of it.” I looked over my shoulder, watching Harry chatting freely with the owner Paula and the nurse, who I’d learnt was called Helen and wanted to give us as much alone time for the day as she possibly could whilst always being around to help my mother if needs be. “How did…” I turned back to face my parents. “Why did… When did he sort this?” “He got in touch with me last week. Had it all planned out, made it as easy as it possibly could be. Kinda made it impossible to say no. Not that I wanted to but, it’s just always seemed so out of reach before.” I didn’t quite know what to say or think or even feel. I couldn’t fathom him going to all that effort on my behalf, the amount of money he would have spent, the care, the kindness. All of it. My eyes flicked to the side to gage my mother, and it must have been so long since she was last out of that home, and I totally understood why my dad had been so worried about it, but even though she was quiet and a little vacant, I actually believed it would have been doing her so much good, even if we couldn’t see it. I didn’t want to cry, but it was very likely I’d spend the majority of our day in tears. Even the fact that Harry was right there with us, that we were out in public as a unit with him included, that meant so much to me. He would have been well aware that the chances of us running into someone were high, but he didn’t seem to care. I dropped my head, struggling to keep my emotions in check. “I can’t believe he’s done all this.” I murmured. “I never asked him to do any of it, I… I just can’t believe he’d do this for me.” “That’s what real love looks like. You’ll have to get used to that.” Even hearing the word love made my stomach coil. The pace of mine and Harry’s companionship had been irregular and unpredictable, and though things had begun in October and intensified in January, love still somehow felt like a big word, a big feeling, something I somehow feared. I’d had one serious relationship in my life, one single experience of that form of love, and it had been a destructive example of it. Love had broken my confidence and shattered my trust. Love had made me doubt my own worth and shun my true emotions, the damage darting to destruct so many different aspects of my life and myself. Love had been an enemy disguised as a friend. But the bottom line was that even at his very best, Sam would have never done what Harry had done for me that day. It wasn’t in his nature. He wouldn’t have even considered it. I did not want to fear love because one person had shown me such a poor example of it. “Sam would’ve never done this for me, would he?” I voiced my thoughts. “I doubt it.” “Not that this… Not that it should be expected, because this is… But y’know what I mean.” “One day Sam will meet someone and all that stuff will come really naturally to him.” My dad said. “I just think that you two weren’t right for each other. I hope you leaving him was the wakeup call he needed, and the next person he’s with… he’ll do better. You’ve just got to be with the right person.” I nodded, hoping he was right, because I had seen a lot of good in Sam, and in ways I would always care for him. “Once you find that, it changes you.” He went on. “Once you find that, you become the best version of yourself. It’s a wonderful thing.” He moved to take hold of my mother’s hand, and thankfully she didn’t cower or pull away, she tightened her grip. She seemed at ease, which was a rare and lovely sight. I was startled back to life when Harry came and sat himself down next to me. “Paula said she’s gunna rustle up Rita’s favourite.” He got himself comfortable at my side. “I dunno what that is, but I trust her to know.” “D’ya hear that, Ree?” My dad encouraged. “You’re gunna get your favourite, meat and potato pie.” “That’s nice.” Her reply was low, but any reply at all was good. “We used to come here every Sunday.” My dad turned to tell Harry. “She’d order the same thing every week.” “With a tea.” She added, quiet, but loud enough for us all to shut the fuck up and stare at her completely dumbfounded. It was such a small thing, such an insignificant little fact, but she’d remembered. She had remembered what she used to order every single Sunday when she’d go to PJ’s with my dad. “Holy shit.” I was mystified. “That’s right!” My dad beamed. It was so strange, how she didn’t even know who I was but she could remember something so small like that, even if it was just for a few seconds, even if it was utterly trivial. I really thought being in places that were so familiar to her was helping her recall even the tiniest things, aided by that sense of acquaintance and home. It was impossible not to smile. “I’m so happy you’re both here.” I sighed, taking Harry’s hand beneath the table. “Thank you for sorting this, Harry.” “My pleasure.” He reached to shake my father’s hand across the table. “Good to see you again. How do you feel being back?” Even on the tiny walk from my place to PJ’s, he’d bumped into three people he knew, and was greeted by more love and welcomes when we got into the café. He seemed happy enough and glad to see people, and they seemed glad to see him, but I suppose it was difficult, especially with my mum being right there. As lovely as the greetings had been, they’d also been accompanied by sad looks and awkward moments, broken smiles and sympathetic words. No one meant any harm, that much was clear, but it couldn’t have been easy. “I feel okay. Strange, but good.” He answered rather shakily and yet sure at the same time. “I’ve missed it.” “There’s something special about this place, isn’t there?” Hearing Harry say that made me smile. “Very. And the people in it.” His eyes dodged to me for a second, giving a very knowing look to the two of us. “Agreed.” Harry was holding back a smile, seeming a little bashful. I made my eyes go wide, glaring, not wanting Robert Hunter to act like a proper dad and start interrogating him and scaring him off. Harry didn’t know that I’d confirmed to my dad that there was something happening between us, but I thought with how our day was going and what he’d done for me, Harry would’ve been pretty foolish to think my dad wouldn’t be aware of it. “Just look after her.” He simply said. “I will.” Harry nodded assertively. My whole body was likely beaming a certain blushed colour that I could not control, dropping my head and cooing down towards the table. Harry could say the most simple things and make me experience feelings I never had before. “Alright, well I’m gunna leave you to it.” He sighed, squeezing my hand and then letting go. “What?” My dad gawped. “I know this is a family thing, I don’t wanna intrude.” He raised to his feet. “You’re not intruding at all, it’s the complete opposite.” Robert was stern. “Sit yourself back down. This is only happening because of you, so I think you should stay.” I looked up to him, kind of expecting to see him looking like he’d actually wanted to get away, that he'd have felt a little strange and out of place if he’d stayed, which I would have totally understood. But if anything, he looked flattered. “Are you sure?” “Absolutely.” Smiling and thanking him, Harry sat himself back down, taking hold of my hand again as soon as he could. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

We trudged through the tall grass, the setting sun making everything golden, the evening warm and blissful. It was perfectly serene, birds singing lullabies from their branches, butterflies dancing over flowers, my heart feeling far removed from everything that could ever possibly harm it. Totally peaceful. “Where’re we going?” Harry asked from behind me. “To where my dad proposed to my mum.” I turned and whispered back to him. “I think he’s hoping she’ll remember it.” We were only a short drive out of Rosebury, but from that spot it felt like there was no sign of society for miles and miles, where Mother Nature still reigned supreme, her beauty untouched and untroubled. My dad had hold of my mum’s hand, carefully leading her towards the very spot he’d asked her to marry him when they were only nineteen years old. He was so affectionate, so ridiculously in love with her even still, despite everything. I worried for him all the time, imagining his life both with and without her. There didn’t seem to be a possible outcome where he would be as happy as he deserved to be. My heart broke for him. I stopped when we reached the end of the taller grass, my dad leading my mum down the small hill in front of us to take her out into the open where he’d asked her to marry him. Harry stood by my side, the two of us giving them their space. “This is beautiful.” Harry admired. “He’s really romantic.” I liked seeing them wander off hand in hand like that, because it was almost as though for a few brief moments of my life, I could forget completely the fact that she didn’t fully know who he was or understand what was happening. Seeing them then, the years rewound before my eyes, taking me back to simpler times when their love was untested and her bookshelf was heaving with books of all colours and sizes, romance novels filling each shelf, depicting their love and a life of happiness they had once built side by side. It was the first time in years where the image of them was strong enough to shield that disease, my eyes only able to see two people in love and nothing else. I sat myself down, keeping my eyes on them every second as I tucked my knees upwards, heart and body warm. Harry sat down beside me, the two of us quietly observing them for quite some time, uninterrupted, peaceful. Even when he did eventually speak, he was gentle. “It’s like they never left.” I turned my head to look over his profile, the way he smiled looking out across the fields and hills before us. “Why did you do this for me?” I asked him. “Why wouldn’t I?” He looked back at me. “I care about you. I wanted to make you happy.” “You make me happy anyway. This is… It’s on another level, is all I’m saying.” “So are you.” He shrugged, casually creating pink blotches in my cheeks. He was treating it like the most ordinary thing, like it was the obvious thing to do and he couldn’t really understand why I was so bewildered by it. I was blushing like mad. “It’s what you deserve, and if I can give that to you, I will. And, y’know… your dad deserves this too. He needed to come back here. It was a bit of a no-brainer.” I reached to take his hand, joining our fingers together and holding his hand as tightly as I dared since he still had his bandages on to cover his cuts, which I hoped were well on their way to healing. I leaned his way, kissing his cheek briefly. “I’m beyond grateful. Thank you.” I spoke against his skin, his dimple appearing beside my lips. “You’re welcome.” “I feel really bad that it’s your birthday and it’s like… It’s like the whole day has revolved around me. I haven’t even given you your present yet.” “You got me a present?” “Of course I got you a present.” I chuckled. “You think I’m not gunna get you a present? Louis’ got you one too!” “What the fuck!” “You should not be this surprised!” “I expected a few pints, but actual presents?” He whelped before he seemed to calm, bewildered as he spoke. “Shit. It’s been a long fucking time.” He was so sweet, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe his luck. Buying for him had been much more difficult than I’d anticipated. He was such a diverse, illusive being that every typical option I’d thought of fell completely flat. Eventually, I’d settled on an acoustic guitar, one I’d seen months earlier than had made me think of him for reasons I didn’t understand. He was clearly a creative person with multiple talents, and though I knew he already owned a guitar, he’d spoken to me about how it was a hobby he’d regretfully overlooked for quite some time. Since he was leaving one of his passions behind, I thought he might like to remind himself of something else he loved doing, something that wasn’t as harmful, that didn’t nourish the demons within him; they needed starving of the misery he had fed them for too long. “I’m sure hearing everyone on karaoke will be enough of a gift in itself.” I leered. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” I had been excited about our day anyway, but with what he’d planned he’d made a good day near perfect. I felt like I wanted to thank him forever. “Seriously, I’m beyond grateful for today, Harry. Thank you.” “Again, you’re welcome.” He chuckled. “You don’t have to keep saying it.” ”Sorry if you feel like you’ve kinda wasted your day.” After spending the late morning and early afternoon in PJ’s, we had spent the rest of our day slowly walking her around town, taking my mum to all her favourite spots and even visiting the house where we used to live as a family. It definitely wasn’t the most riveting of days, as much as I’d loved it. “I don’t, at all. It’s been really nice. Better than how I’ve spent my birthday for the last few years anyway.” I took a moment, shifting uncomfortably on my spot as I thought about approaching the topic I’d been contemplating and stressing over for weeks. I wanted to share it with him, not in the hope of reaching a definite outcome, but me and Harry were doing so well with being open and honest with what we were feeling and thinking, I felt I owed it to us more than anything. I wanted to try and gage how he was feeling about the topic of people knowing about the two of us without diving right into; I wanted to simply test the waters and gather whether he thought we would sink or swim. It was a difficult subject to breach because he’d almost been forced to be much more open that he was accustom to in recent weeks and months, and though that had been a good thing in the grand scheme of things, I understood it must have been overwhelming for him. I didn’t want to pile everything on at once and taint the incredible process he had made. “Were... Were you nervous about bumping into someone today?” I asked shyly. “Mm.” He nodded, smiling as he turned his head to face me. “Were you?” “Yeah.” I admitted. “Kinda.” “Thankfully we got through the day without any of that lot witnessing.” He sniggered. “We’d have never heard the bloody end of it.” “So you’re… You’re not ready for people to know then? About us?” He whipped his head to look at me, likely picking up on the tone of my voice and the suggestion within it. He took a few seconds, the very smallest smile on his lips as he looked over my face, sighing deliberately. I was impressed by the fact he hadn’t run, that he was still sat there with me seeming to actually fully contemplate what I was saying rather than getting defensive and immediately shunning it. Somehow, that was good enough for me. Every day, I could see us progressing, and that was enough. “Sorry.” He said, knowing I’d already figured out his answer. “S’okay. I get it. I just wanted to know where you’re at, that’s all.” “I’m not quite there yet.” I nodded, completely understanding of why he felt that way. Maybe we weren’t ready. Maybe there was already more than enough going on in our lives and between the two of us that we didn’t need anything else from the outside burrowing its way inwards. The thought of everyone knowing was intimidating, I could admit that. I suppose I’d just gotten carried away with how exciting I found it too. I was happy to go at his pace, as long as I knew we were moving forward. I shuffled myself a little closer to him, Harry letting go of my hand so he could wrap his arm around me, tuck me into his side carefully, kiss at the top of my head. I could tell it was his way of comforting me, letting me know that it wasn’t to do with me but more to do with him and how he felt. I couldn’t have asked for much more than that. I looked ahead, seeing my mum and dad picking flowers together, crouched down over a certain patch as he plucked some from their place and handed them over to her. I wiped away my tears quickly. “I dunno what I expected when I moved here,” As Harry spoke, his voice seemed to intertwine with the nature around him, his chords a hidden vein that could bury beneath the soil and create new life. “But it definitely wasn’t this.” I lay my head on his shoulder, not even needing to question him or wonder whether that was a good thing or not, because I knew it was. “I’m so glad you’re here.” I whispered. “I kinda hate thinking about my life without you now. It doesn’t seem right.” Within a second of me saying that, he’d twisted his head to thrust his lips together with mine, breathing me in, a cold wind playing around us and through our hair as he grabbed hold of my face, tongue teasing mine. He was intense, groaning as his mouth moved, beautifully passionate. I felt weak beneath his touch. He was captivating, in everything he said and everything he did, every touch strong enough in its tenderness to weaken me indefinitely. How well I knew his touch and how versed he was with mine made every kiss categorically remarkable, almost intimidatingly so. But that kiss was something beyond anything we’d shared before. I was breathless by the time he stopped kissing me, his lips still close enough to brush my own ever so slightly, fingertips pushing against my jaw to keep me close. I opened my eyes, saw that he was already looking deep into mine, wetting his lips. I felt like I wasn’t breathing. “ALFIE!” I heard my dad call for me from across the field, which may have been the only thing that could make me tear my eyes from Harry’s. “I think we need to get her back. She’s getting upset, she’s confused.” I nodded, my stomach still sinking and my body still motionless, but Harry jumped to his feet immediately, rushing over to lend a helping hand. I was frozen.

“HOLD THE LINE!” Lin was yelling rather than singing. “LOVE ISN’T ALWAYS ON TIME!” It was painful, literally painful. I was loving every second and it was funny as hell, but listening to him squawking like that was genuinely doing bad things to my delicate little ears. The remaining five of us were all leaning our backs against the bar, cringing. “Oh god, it’s even worse than usual.” Louis snorted. “The fact he has no shame is so attractive.” Niall was biting his lip, already one too many drinks down. Chloe was already chatting to the bloke who was in charge of the karaoke machine for the evening, having a deep discussion about which Bee Gees song we should try to take on after realising Stayin’ Alive probably wasn’t the easiest one to tackle, but likely the funniest. Libby and I were trying to down our drinks in order to be drunk enough to actually get up and sing, but it didn’t seem to be working. Chloe had zero qualms about it. “Are you gunna take on Islands in the Stream again?” I asked Harry, nudging his hip with mine. “I suggested I Got You Babe as a joke, and Niall’s already requested it.” “You should be aware that there are no jokes when it comes to Niall and karaoke, Harry.” “That’s really a lesson I need to learn.” He sniggered. Thankfully, we’d managed to calm my mother down earlier before things had gotten completely out of hand. We’d walked her back out of the field and taken her straight over to the van, though thankfully she hadn’t needed any medical assistance, she’s merely needed to calm down and realign her mind once more, as much as she could. They’d left not long afterwards, the farewell drawn out and bittersweet, but I knew it would have made a world of difference when it came to my dad and his attitude towards spending time in Rosebury. We’d gotten through the day with barely a single issue and I could tell that something had switched in his mind. After a brief trip home with Harry by my side, gifting him his guitar and taking him to bed, our evening in the pub had snuck up on us rather quickly and was going exactly as expected. If only or a while. Just as Lin was taking his bow, the song finally coming to a triumphant end, the door swung open and Sam and Tom welcomed themselves into The Royal Rose. Sam had been rather good at hiding himself away since the night where Harry had knocked him to the ground with one foul punch over three months earlier, meaning that most of the group hadn’t seen him since finding out exactly why it was that Harry had gone after him the way he had. I shuffled uncomfortably on my spot as they both approached, looking far too smug for my liking. “M’going outside.” Harry grunted, rolling his shoulders and pushing away from the bar, ready to take himself away from the situation. “Harry, it’s your birthday, you don’t have to-” “Fancy seeing you lot here.” Sam’s voice was as smarmy as ever. “Don’t leave on my behalf, mate.” “I’m not your mate.” Harry stopped and answered, back rigid, tone vapid. Sam was just that bit shorter than Harry, positioning himself right in front of him and looking up with a smug smile on his face. I could see Harry clenching his fists, doing what he could to contain his rage. Lin, however, wasn’t feeling quite as forgiving. “OI!” He yelled, rushing to us from the front of the room. “Sam, get the fuck out.” “I just want a pint, I didn’t even know you lot were here. You don’t own the fucking pub, Lincoln.” Lin seemed unfazed, getting right up in Sam’s face, snarling as he spoke. “But you know I say one word to Gina about what you did to Alfie and you’re barred for life, so I’d take the highroad and leave of your own accord before I make that happen.” “Scary.” He sniggered sarcastically. “Oh fuck this.” Niall tut. “Harry, shut him up and knock him out again, would ya?” I felt like the reason Sam was so defensive and vulgar was no longer anything to do with me and more in an attempt to feel better about himself, try to prove how unfazed he was about the fight he and Harry had. He had no clue that he continued to make himself look worse and worse with every interaction they shared. “Sam, drop it.” Chloe piped up rather shyly. “It’s Harry’s birthday, we’re just trying to have a nice night, can’t you leave it? Go to a different pub.” “It’s embarrassing.” Lin sounded just as rude as Sam had, it was brilliant. “Look, I said I’m sorry,” He fought. “I’ve spoken with Alfie, it’s nowt to do with any of you. I’m not here for trouble, I’m here to have a drink, so if you could all move out of my fucking way and let me get to the bar.” “Go somewhere else.” Harry demanded. “Why should I?” “Sam, fuck off.” Niall groaned, tired of it. He seemed to ignore everyone, looking back up to Harry and it was clear he wanted to make him snap. He wanted a rise out of him. I slyly took Harry’s hand, trying to pull him back, closer to me. Grinning, Sam quickly dropped his eyes to look at me. “We’re alright aren’t we, Alfie?” He asked. “Don’t even bother speaking to her.” Harry stepped so he was right in front me, blocking Sam from me in any way he could. He was doing so well. He could have lost his head as soon as Sam walked through the door, but he hadn’t. He’d stayed as calm as he could, which I appreciated, but then I’d catch another glimpse of the look on Sam’s face and I’d want to punch him myself. Sam took a step closer, Harry not moving an inch. “I dunno whose fucking hero you’re trying to be, but you’re not hers.” Sam snarled, nodding his head towards me. “You might as well stop trying to be.” “I’m not trying anything.” Harry snarled. “Looks like you are to me.” “Why? Because I wanna protect her from you?” “Like you’re any better. I can see right through you-” “Don’t push me.” Harry shook his head. “Say another fucking word.” It wasn’t the first time Sam had suggested that he could see Harry’s feelings for me, and though it didn’t help that every interaction they’d had had been hostile and revolved around me, it seemed that maybe he could see through him in some ways. But he was claiming to see something else in him too, a violence and an aggression, something that had affected Harry’s life and was the source of too many painful memories. And even though he had worked so hard to move on and find alternative ways to deal with his emotions, his rage and his sorrow in particular, I knew what Sam was saying would be bothering him, evoking emotions and times that Harry wanted to keep in the past. “Sam, you’ve got ten fucking seconds.” Lin finalised. “Fine, I’m going, chill out.” He smirked. “Enjoy your nights. Careful around him, Alfie.” Lin managed to stand in the way before I’d even noticed that Harry had lost his patience, trying to jump at Sam and Tom and the two of them sauntered out of the pub, sniggering at him as they went. I hated that they’d managed to make him snap at the very last second, how Lin was once again having to hold him back. “Don’t, mate, he’s not worth it!” Lin called. “He’s trying to get to you.” I still had hold of Harry’s hand. “Ignore him.” He glared at Sam until well after he’d left, nostrils flaring as he kept his eyes on the door, somewhere between wanting to calm down and wanting to follow him outside. His chest was rising and falling, every inch of him tense. “I need air.” He huffed, pulling away from me and heading to the back door. “No, Harry-” I tried. “I’m going out back. Just five minutes, I need to clear my head.” We all watched him go, rolling his shoulders and darting down the hallway where he’d kissed me during the first minute of the year to give himself the space he desired. Sam was trying to get in his head and it was working. He was saying all the right things and really riling him up, and he didn’t need to feel that way. I could see that Harry often saw the worst of himself, saw the negatives and found a way to blame himself for things that were out of his control, for habits and characteristics he had developed over the years. The things Sam had been saying had gotten to him so much because Harry managed to link them to things he’d done, ways he’d felt, behaviours he had tried to change, disregarding the ways he had successfully bettered himself. But I saw the best in Harry. I knew he had changed. I knew he had a good heart. “I think there’s a reason he runs those classes, y’know.” Chloe sighed once he’d slammed the door shut. “I think someone did something to someone he loves, that’s why he gets so… wound up.” “Fuck Sam.” Lin groaned, rubbing the top of my arm encouragingly. “Let’s ignore that. Who wants a drink? I’m not having him ruin our night.” Niall scuttled around to my side as everyone tried to snap out of the moment and return to normal. He leaned closer to me, whispered something in my ear that made my stomach drop. “I think Harry likes you, Alf.” “What?” “C’mon. You see how he gets about you?” “He’s just like that.” I lied as convincingly as I could. “He likes you. I know I’m right. I called Louis and Libby years ago.” “This time, you’re wrong.” “Nice opinion, but I am in fact right, and my advice to you would be to hop right on that dick as soon as possible.” I was glad he’d said something funny so I could laugh it off, shake my head and end the conversation there. But he had this knowing little look on his face, clearly very pleased with himself and exceptionally confident in his prediction, with good reason. As he swaggered away from me, I rolled my eyes before they landed right on the door Harry had just walked out of, my mood dropping quickly. As well as the fact I knew Harry wanted to be on his own, I figured Niall’s speculation was a good reason not to follow him outdoors to see how he was feeling, attempt to cheer him up. He wanted time alone, and I needed to give it to him no matter how agonising the wait might be. It all stemmed down to what had happened with every member of his family; his father’s suicide, the fight with his brother, how his mother had kicked him out and he’d stopped all contact with her for too long. Through every heartbreak and every mistake, Harry had found some blame within himself, misplaced or not. In the following years, he had done all he could to make his peace and be a better person, right his wrongs, but every now and then those detrimental doubts would return to haunt him. Sam being the one to say all that and even comparing the two of them, implying that I needed to worry about Harry, that was what had made him lose himself that way. After so long, I knew what his thought process would be, how he was thinking. I knew I didn’t have anything to fear, and I needed to make sure Harry knew exactly how I felt. Another couple of minutes passed by before the conversation veered back to Harry. “Go check on him.” Niall said, nodding towards the door. “I dunno…” I groaned, trying to seem like I wasn’t desperate to go and see him, even though I definitely was. “Do it. And if he tells you to fuck off, at least then you know. Better that than him hoping someone goes to see if he’s okay and no one does.” “Then you go.” I kept up the act in order to steer his suspicions away. “I’m not the one in the middle of all this.” He shrugged, and I had to accept that at least. Sighing and faking unease, I scuttled in Harry’s direction, soon cautiously opening the door and poking my head around the corner to see that he was already looking right at me like he’d been waiting for me to show up, sat on one of the splintered tables they had outside, feet resting on the bench attached to it, hands in prayer against his lips. “M’sorry.” He spoke instantly. “I dunno why I get like that.” I stepped outside, the door closing slowly behind me as I walked over to him. “You don’t have to be sorry.” I told him, nonchalant. “You get like that because he’s a prick.” I saw his smile as I stopped right in front of him, glad to see him looking so calm and composed, to see his body almost relax with every step closer I’d taken. “You handled it well.” I nodded. “Don’t let him get to you. He doesn’t know you, Harry. He’ll say anything to feel better about himself, it’s his own issue, not yours.” Although he didn’t look quite convinced, he did look as though he was happy to hear it, happy that I was there saying what I was so confidently. I wanted to lean in and kiss him, but I didn’t quite trust that Niall wasn’t behind me spying on the two of us. Harry tilted his head a little, narrowed his eyes. “You know me well, don’t you? You know how my head works.” “I like to think so.” I looked up and shrugged, smiling modestly. “It’s nice. I like it.” He lowered his hands to take hold of me, grasping his fingers around my own, his lips creating the most perfect smile. And I think that was one of the main things that managed to make him feel better that night, that maybe made him feel better in general; the thought that I knew him so well, that I knew things about him that most people didn’t, that I knew of both his good and supposedly bad qualities, and I was there holding his hand regardless, accepting him and being with him and supporting him. It was another reminder among many that nothing really mattered other than me and him, and as long as we knew how we felt, any other opinion or doubt didn’t matter. All that mattered was us.

#THIS IS A LONG ONE PHEW #happy reading #HBS32 #1dff

[nerds4life]

2 winners and 3 losers from One Direction’s solo albums

The boys have all gone in different … directions … since their indefinite hiatus in 2016. Some are better than others.

By Alexa Lee (Jan 31, 2020, 9:00am EST)

A decade — yes, a decade — ago, a teenage boy band by the name of One Direction was formed. After auditioning as individual singers on the British musical competition The X Factor, Niall Horan, Liam Payne, Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, and Zayn Malik were thrown together into a group by TV personality Simon Cowell in 2010. And thus, One Direction was born.

While the group only placed third on The X Factor, their time on the reality show was just the beginning of their global takeover. Over a span of five years, the group released five albums, did four world tours, broke numerous Billboard 100 music records (including ones previously only held by the Beatles), recorded a documentary, and even released a perfume.

At the same time, the five members also became the basis of adolescent crushes and fervor for many years to come. Thanks to their individual quirks and calculated branding ploys, each boy quickly became an archetype for a different high school crush: Niall was the adorable friend, Harry the artistic boy next door. Zayn was quietly mysterious, while Liam was extroverted and jockish. And Louis? Hmm, well — Louis was also there.

For those five years, the One Direction boys seemed like they were untouchable. That is, until Zayn left the group in 2015 to embark on a solo career, and, a year later, the remaining band members announced an “indefinite hiatus.”

Four years after One Direction announced its hiatus, each of the One Direction-ers have begun their own solo careers. It’s the first time any of them have recorded without each other, and the first time they’ve performed solo in front of an audience since being on The X Factor as teens. Their solo albums, good or bad, reveal how each individual wants to reintroduce themselves to the public, and how they’re attempting the complicated leap from adolescent pop star to independent adult artist.

Now that Louis Tomlinson has dropped his first solo album, every former One Direction member has released at least one solo project. (Harry and Zayn have each released two.) And there are some very clear winners and losers among them. Here’s how they stack up against each other and what each one tells us about who these boys are now that they’ve spent some time apart.

Winner: Fine Line by Harry Styles

Watching Harry emerge triumphantly, hair and culottes billowing, with the title of Most Popular and Critically Acclaimed Ex-One Direction Member is not unlike watching a long-awaited prophecy finally fall into place. Ever since One Direction first stepped into the international limelight, interviews and press circuits saw that Harry was different from his fellow bandmates. He was offbeat but cool, disheveled but sexy.

And in 2017, when he released his debut album named — what else? — Harry Styles, Harry established himself as worthy of all the hype from his years in the band. A brooding rock record filled with anecdotes about all the sex he has and heartbreak he’s felt, Harry Styles reintroduced Harry to the world as an indie songwriter, David Bowie fanboy, and charismatic lover. And with his next, more experimental 2019 album, Harry takes all these elements of his identity a step further, securing his spot in the popular music landscape as a modern rock star.

Harry released Fine Line at the end of last year, interrupting winter’s dreariness with bright, dancey songs about all-consuming yearning. The lyrics of “Adore You” and “Watermelon Sugar” conjure images of summer fruits and summer loves, and both songs set the perfect soundtrack for encountering a crush at a party, or at least fending off seasonal depression. And on “Cherry,” his transportive and melancholy ode to an ex, listeners get a glimpse at genuine heartache from Harry. Despite having built a career out of belting love songs, Harry has never before sounded this vulnerable in his music before. “Cherry” shines a light on the vulnerabilities of a seemingly invulnerable star and brings a touching depth to Harry’s music that was previously absent. Fine Line is the most adventurous and enjoyable of the One Direction members’ solo efforts, and it’s sure to convert even the most crotchety boy band skeptics into believers.

Winner: Flicker by Niall Horan

As a member of One Direction, Niall was beloved — but not for being the band’s breakout star or its scene-stealing performer or even its biggest personality. Niall’s greatest charm, and the primary allure of his 2017 album Flicker, is instead seeming like an ordinary, likable guy. The human embodiment of a chill night in, Niall projects affable, regular-guy energy, but in a more palatable way than, say, Ed Sheeran. He’s a man who, after being part of the most popular boy band this side of the millennia, can still convincingly seem like he’s bemused by his fame and wealth. Niall likes Nando’s, and he likes to golf on the weekends. It’s easy to imagine him as one of those people with the uncanny ability to put horses at ease simply by murmuring the dulcet opening bars of his hit single “This Town” and running his guitar-worn hands over their hides.

Niall brings this same aura of safety and coziness to Flicker, where he strums his acoustic guitar and sings earnestly about the mundane highs and lows of falling in love. His songs are emotionally and musically safe — the most upbeat tracks, “On the Loose” and “Slow Hands,” still retain a mellow, unhurried cadence, and sad songs like “Paper Houses” veer away from raw grief or anguish, opting instead for lyrics that just barely skim the surface of sorrow.

Is it always good when an artist’s best quality is being inoffensive and never taking risks? No, but perhaps in the swirling political and social chaos of 2020, it’s what we need. Niall is a calming lighthouse in the stormy sea of life, and we would be fools to let him out of our sight.

Loser: Icarus Falls by Zayn Malik

Writer Allison P. Davis once described Zayn as someone who “sings about sex like it’s this thing he just heard about on a Jodeci song.” It’s this image of Zayn that echoes in my mind whenever I think about his couple’s photoshoot with model Gigi Hadid, or the boyish pirate-themed pub in his backyard, or his many, many selfies featuring a tortured grimace and 5 o’clock shadow. Despite his reputation for being the quiet, mysterious band member, in his post-One Direction career, Zayn has revealed both his passion for sensual R&B, as well as a powerful lack of convincing sexual energy.

Davis’s one-sentence character study is also a devastatingly apt summary of Zayn’s second album, which came out in 2018. At nearly an hour and a half, Icarus Falls is a boring, corny exploration of what happens when a too-handsome man ensconces himself in cologne and longing. Chock full of weak lyrics (e.g. “That’s how I feel the soul inside her body”) and dull, forgettable beats, the album has neither the playfulness nor sufficient melancholy to breathe life into Zayn’s sensual aspirations, and the end result is unrewarding.

The disappointment of Icarus Falls is worsened by the fact that Zayn’s debut album, Mind of Mine, was so much better. Mind of Mine’s intriguing blasé attitude was an exciting change of pace from Zayn’s demeanor in One Direction, when he was obligated to sing very un-blasé songs like “What Makes You Beautiful.” Although the 2016 record also frequently stumbled when it intended to seduce, it showed signs of artistic promise that make Icarus Falls seem like dull anticlimax, with a mere two exceptions. “Let Me” and “Entertainer” are soothing tracks in which Zayn vows to shower his lover in devotion and luxury items, and they’re the only songs that come close to the groovy fun of his last album. For listeners who are unable to let go of Zayn’s undeniable vocal chops and moody flair (me), these quality songs are exasperating reminders that Zayn is wasting his potential as well as everyone else’s time.

Loser: LP1 by Liam Payne

For many years, Liam seemed poised to stay in the “normal guy” lane with Niall, often playing the band’s cheerful jokester in music videos and interviews. Because of his jovial stage presence and photogenic, symmetrical face, many people — Liam included — thought he would follow the footsteps of another boy band pop mogul, Justin Timberlake. Recently, however, Liam’s public personality has begun to curdle slightly, in the form of controversial Instagram posts about his personal wealth, dating and impregnating the judge at his X Factor audition, and regrettable jewelry he calls the “Payne Chain.” Today, Liam seems less like a new Timberlake and more like a second-rate Bieber.

Liam’s debut album LP1, released in December 2019, follows a similarly cringy trajectory. Boosted by Chainsmoker-esque beats and sleazy lines about “[doing] your ass in the car,” Liam’s music is a bold statement separating himself from the sound of One Direction, but it’s not for the better. At one particularly low point, he leers at and fetishizes his partner’s bisexuality in the song “Both Ways.” But even on tracks without pointedly offensive lyrics, Liam’s bravado comes off as corny, and he fails to utilize his sonorous voice’s full strength. Each song on LP1 sounds like a mishmash assembly of smash hit ingredients, but the final product can’t quite stick the landing, and songs blur together in a haze of tropical synth and repetitive melody.

It’s not all bad, though. Tasteless songs aside, it’s hard not to listen to LP1 without admiring Liam’s unwavering audacity. Not everyone has the bulwark of confidence required to sing lyrics like, “I just wanna have fun and get rowdy / One Coke and Bacardi, sipping lightly,” or release a song called “Hips Don’t Lie” that’s neither a Shakira cover nor good. While this album is not the radio-ready bop collection that Liam was perhaps hoping it would be, LP1 is, above all else, unapologetic about what it is.

Loser: Walls by Louis Tomlinson

In a recent interview with the Guardian, Louis says, “[Niall’s] the most lovely guy in the world … Zayn has a fantastic voice … Harry comes across very cool. Liam’s all about getting the crowd going, doing a bit of dancing … And then there’s me.”

Louis’s self-deprecating remarks reflect the popular perception of him as the forgettable, “other” member of One Direction. Sadly, his same failure to assert himself as a unique public figure and musician is the downfall of his album Walls, which struggles to sound memorable despite being the solo album that most closely resembles One Direction’s former sound.

Louis is the last member of One Direction to release a solo album, largely because he put off recording music for an extended amount of time after the death of his mother and sister in 2016 and 2019, respectively. Given this context, it’s not surprising that Louis’s music is steeped in solemnity, whether he’s nostalgic for an old relationship on “Too Young,” or openly grieving the loss of his family on “Two of Us.”

Unfortunately, Walls feels like a confessional series of diary entries set to drums and tinny acoustic guitar, and while the frank intimacy is a refreshing contrast to, say, Liam, ultimately the album feels lackluster and sonically generic. Soft guitar and even softer vocals accompany lyrics about longing — for someone, a feeling, a moment in the past — making Walls feel like a pale imitation of One Direction’s booming rock-inspired pop rather than an entity of its own. In his first attempt to separate himself musically from the group, Louis once again blends into the background.

Not everyone is better off alone [insert pun about One Direction becoming Many Directions].

The transition from boy band member to adult man solo artist is not an easy one. The scramble to assert oneself as a legitimate, relevant musician can be full of pressure, and not everyone walks away with equal amounts of fame and success. In the case of One Direction, the majority of these underwhelming solo efforts suggest that, as much as the members have striven to express their individuality, their biggest legacy will probably be being part of a group. (Unless we’re talking about Harry Styles, that is.)

#mine #ot5 #ride or die together #and discuss #ot5 reunion

[dippedanddripped]

A Q&A With Keary Kase On Pioneering Hip Hop In Portland

Trenton, NJ born rapper Keary Kase is now pioneering hip hop from Portland, Oregon. After having been involved in a Nike ad campaign that featured him on Billboards across the US, Keary’s singles began to top the radio charts. He began to work with artists like The Wutang Clan and producers Bosko and Non-Stop Da Hitman. Most recently, he partnered with Adidas designers in Portland to develop ‘Reder’ – an athletic apparel brand with focus on CBD delivery systems for athletes who are recovering from injuries.

We had the chance to sit down with Keary Kase to talk about Portland’s thriving hip hop scene, his Nike campaign, and what fans and followers can expect in 2020.

Tell us a little bit about the hip hop scene in Portland. We’d love to know more!

Portland hip hop has so many facets, I’m not sure where to begin. We do have a solid foundation of originals, like Mic Crenshaw, Cool Nutz, Mellenium (Kenny Mack), Maniac Lok, Bosko, Vursatyl, X-Kid, DJ Wicked, Pete Miser and myself, who are still active.

Having strong artists, who have made careers in Hip Hop, as role models and idols allows the kids to aspire to become musical artists. Without these examples, the endless call to normalcy and job security (which we all now know is B/S) by pretty much EVERYBODY, would lead these young Ore-guns to self doubt and failure.

Mike Capes, Swiggle Mandela, Drae Steve’s, JR Patton and Keith Canvas are a few Portland artists to check out.

Right now, a lot of artists are showing support to the BLM movement using their voices to speak, rather than rap to those participating in protests, rallies and such.

How do you feel being originally from the east coast has affected your musical style?

In my embryonic years, I saw myself as an east coast rapper. I felt like, with the exception of rappers like Ice T, Too Short, NWA and The DOC, west coast rappers were mostly basic compared to east coast rappers. They had KRS, Big Daddy Kane, Slick Rick (my favorite golden era rapper), Special ED, Kool G Rap & Polo, RAKIM!!! Plus WBLS used to play all the hot new shit off the block.

I was enamored by east coast swagger and tone. The slang and accent was natural for me because my entire family spoke with it. My ability to slip in and out of the style made me different in Portland.

In the early 90’s I started spending time in LA. I was slanging FIMO beads to tourists at Venice Beach in the daylight and going to clubs and shows at night. I met this dude named Self Jupiter at this summer festival called The African Marketplace, where I was selling jewelry and celebrating my black youth. Jupiter was a member of a rap group called Freestyle Fellowship. He gave me a tape. After I listened to it, my entire opinion of west coast hip hop was turned upside down. I witnessed west coast rappers like Volume 10, WC, Divine Styler, Cypress Hill and E40 change the game. I became influenced by them and my style was set free. I became open to all influences, no matter if they came from the east, west, northwest, midwest or south.

Tell us more about the Nike ad campaign you were featured in. How did that come about?

One day I was leaving my boy Tommy Hestmark’s studio in downtown Portland. I was walking down the street with my back straight and my chest and chin up, as all men and women should. This guy approached me and said “excuse me, can I talk to you?” I looked at him sideways and he says “no, no. It’s just…. Your face is CRAZY!” I squinted as if to say “do you hear yourself fool?” He pulls out a card and explains that he owned a modeling agency and he thought my look was money. He asked me to call to schedule a test shoot. I called and scheduled the shoot. When I went there, he asked me if I was wearing boxers. I confirmed, then he asked me if I would take some test shots in my boxers. I’m thinking this dude is either going to proposition me for sex or he wants to see if I can be the next face of Calvin Klein. I gambled on Calvin Klein and agreed to take the pics. We walked into a hall and he said “you can get undressed here,” then walked away. So there I stood baring all that my boxers would not cover, with my clothes in a small pile on the floor. I heard footsteps, then an attractive woman appears holding a camera. It was his wife. She told me where to stand , took a couple quick pics and said “Keary, you’re a machine,” then allowed me to get dressed and walked me out.

A few weeks later they called me back and said a photographer knew of me and wanted to do a martial arts shoot. There was no pay, but the photographer was well known and really good. I had no portfolio, and no published work so this was an opportunity to do TFP to add to my comp card.

The photographer, Marcus Swanson, wanted me to do a flying sidekick, which is a classic taekwondo photo kick. When I got there, there was nowhere to get a running start so I improvised and pulled it off. While I was there, a Nike scout was lurking. As I was leaving, Marcus’ assistant, Amber Geiger, mentioned a potential shoot for Nike and asked if they could do a quick polaroid. Snap snap and I was out. A few months passed by before I got a call back from my agent about the shoot. In those few months, I became a black belt, won a gold medal at the the regional national qualification tournament in the black belt dividion, then a silver medal at the US National Championship, and was leaving in a few days to go whoop everybody’s ass at the invitational US Team Trials. It didn’t play out that way but I believe being so active in the few months between the martial arts test shoot and the paid shoot is what influenced their decision to go with me for the ad campaign. We agreed on a date and time, after my return, for the shoot.

When I got back, we did the shoot. I thought it was going to be light work but it was brutal. Modeling is hardcore. I remember seeing myself on a billboard for the first time. It felt like a distant relative to masturbation. I also remember it taking forever to get my money. Agencies can be gangster. I had to make some very firm promises before I got the check. After that, our relationship became square.

You have worked with several platinum artists and producers. Do you have any memorable stories about your experiences that you’d like to share?

Hmm. I don’t like to deride or D-RIDE anyone, but there was an interesting encounter with a Wu-Tang Clan member named Cappadonna. Cappadonna, Killa Priest and a small crew they were touring with were staying at my house when they stopped through Portland. My roommate, MyG,  was helping them do some business in Portland while they killed time before their next tour date. At the time, we had a lil 5 bedroom spread with 2 recording studios in it, so we let their whole crew crash at the spot. The house was already like a revolving door for whoever was on tour in the NW. Artists could come through while in town and collab, get local pub through us and be blessed with some Oregon grown greeneries for the road.

So this was the first time we met (Cappadonna & I). I was taking acting classes at the time so I was gone when they pulled up. When I got home after class, Cappadonna was in the booth. I walked in the room and he started talking wild like “aye yo break that nigga watch!…stab that nigga!” I’m standing in a room full of dudes, with New York energy, that I don’t know, so I assumed he was talking about me. I dip out to my room and get a screwdriver just so I have something in my hand incase things go left. A few minutes pass, then MyG tells Cappadonna to move on to the next part. At this moment I realize he’s in character and not talking about me at all. Killah Priest enters the room. We introduce ourselves and dap up. He asks me what I do and I tell him that I’m in acting school. When Cap comes out, KP says “this is Kase, he’s an actor.” They gave each other a look that, to me , expressed what he spoke as “this is Kase, he’s a fake nigga.”

Granted, I’ve been a skater since day 1, so I understand that some black people (especially at the time) associate being a black skater with being less black or more white. With that in mind, I let what he said breeze by.

After we blessed up, we got to the business. Bosko had let me hold a beat that I wrote a sticky verse to; Cappa liked it so I let him put a hook on it. Me and KP did a DOPE song on a track that this dude named Smoke produced. It sounded like some official Wu-affiliate shit. MyG lost the session so none of that material was ever released.

The next day the energy still felt suspect. Like they thought I was a suburban negro, lol. I took them to the block, which is now gentrified, but was still hood at the time. Cappa called my whip a 666. It was the same Denali XL with the same 26” Trump Spinners that was in the video for the song he was promoting at the time, but mine was cleaner. It seemed like he felt a way about it. We went to my mom’s restaurant, where Cappa requested a Psalms verse from my mother. She said “how about a Revelation,” and laced all of us.

I dropped them at the barber shop to get faded and bladed. When they came out, the energy was different. Cappadonna got in and said “you know your hood and your hood knows you. He said you put your moms in that restaurant, didn’t you?” I just looked at him and put my hand out. We dapped up and the respect, which was first being given by me and received by him, suddenly felt mutual.

Cappadonna is a wise dude and a beast MC. I asked him questions related to his lyrics. He explained to me what “God Degree” and “7:30” meant and told me the story of the origin of his name. You might be able to detect that I’m most definitely still a Wu-Tang fan, although I liked his earlier work. KP knows what I mean by that.

Tell us about your involvement with the CBD industry and your views on how it can be a therapeutic tool for people?

CBD is my go-to treatment for a number of conditions. If I am anxious, I use a non-psychoactive tincture. This gives me a general sense of well-being, without making me feel altered or high. I feel like myself on a good day. If I need to restful sleep, I employ a cannabinoid rich CBD blend that allows me to drift off into REM without jumping up 100 times to make sure the garage door is closed (or whatever). Using CBD is like taking premium vitamins.

In 2019, I started a company called Nina Botanica with a material designer who works for Adidas in Portland. I began researching how to use compression technology as a CBD delivery system for athletic injury rehabilitation. There are some products on the market that offer a similar product, but none that fully address the issues of muscle strains, tears and associated pain that can knock an athlete off of their game. What sets us apart is, our CBD compression system has a lifetime guarantee. You can use it until you’re tired of using it.

We also designed a pod based delivery system, called the NINA , with Shenzen based technology company Smoore. The smart hexagonal pod + cartridge system uses inductive charging in place of the industry standard USB to power up.

Due to COVID-19 and our current bout with systemic racism, the techy products will be in preliminary production until mid-late 2021.

Tell us about your latest project “Craze”. Who is involved and what inspired it?

I was a week back on after being off music for years. Just getting my lungs back, not planning on dropping anything yet; just warming up. An artist named Uneek, who had been my mentee for several years, reached out. He was talking about how he blew all of his savings on medical expenses for his seed and how William, Lil Willi and Big Bill were all coming for him at once. He had just got robbed in Atlanta, so he was shy about who he could trust in Portland.

Uneek asked me to help him to rebrand himself and act as a manager, as I did in the beginning of his career. Since he had just found the strength to come out about his sexual identity, he wanted to look to the LBGTQ community for support. Since that was outside of my sphere of influence, I decided to help him generate some traffic in his home studio, offering tracking and mixing as an engineer. I told him we could put out a mixtape to re-introduce him to his followers and the rest of the world. I got 15 tracks from  producers, Sixteen and J Doe. I wanted to see how serious he was about his career so I told him to put hooks on  all 15. He would send me a rough lyric or melody, then I would write or rewrite the lyrics then massage the melody and coach him on how to execute it.  After he did it, I would chop it and arrange it in a Logic, while I was on the road.

Once the mixtape concepts were in the bag, I told him we needed a real record to kick it off. There was a lot of material in his catalog, but nothing that sounded like a hit single to me.

He got a track from this lil dude named 64 and put a hook on it that had us laughing. He was like “yeah this track sound like something Da Baby would get on.” It wasn’t my style, really, but I kept getting drawn into the drums. I let the first line go off the top then it seemed like the rest of the lyrics were just there. We called it “She A Thot.” It dropped on all platforms back in April of this year.

Craze, the follow up single, manifested itself off of the vibe we were on after “She A Thot” dropped. 64 had sent us a 3 pack of beats so it had some of the same feel as the others, however, the “Craze” beat was much more elegant than the other two.It was like the bigger, sexier, more mature and pondering sister of the “She A Thot” beat.

When I started writing, I felt the beat asking me to confess. It was saying “tell your truth, Kase.” The melody in my head was so balanced that I just let it drive through the first verse. I remembered, as a young man, being so caught up in hustling that I lost my compassion for people. I reflected on how I had spent the last decade, since my first daughter was born, re-approaching life with more compassion.

Whatever you have done in your past does not define you. But sometimes it’s good to talk about it. Black  people have traditionally been afraid of counseling or therapy. Mostly because of our trust issues with the people providing those services. I strongly suggest talking to someone about the things that trouble you. My uncle Jeff calls it “dumping.”

Music is my therapy. Dumping is my new craze.

What artists are you listening to right now and why?

I like listening to new music. I’m listening to Lil Durk, Pop Smoke, Amine, Jack Harlow, etc. But that’s like research for me. I like to see and hear what the big dogs are investing in. But right now, I’m developing a K-Pop artist, so I’m listening Big Hit Entertainment’s people. I’m about to go over there and liberate some musical slaves. (*artists)

But I still listen to Sade.

What’s next for you in 2020? What can fans look forward to?

I’m dropping a mixtape later this month. I may be doing a record + video with Compton artist, AD in the next few weeks. We’re still working out the details, but he’s doing real good right now.

Other than that, I’m developing a young K-Pop idol named Kiari. That genre is making big waves. I’m also looking at television as a next play. I have a pocket ace in the Chinese market that I’m keeping tucked. Oh I’m doing business with China.  Sorry Chump…I mean, Sorry Trump. No, wait, I had it right the first time.

#keary kase #pdx hiphop artist #pdx artist #portland oregon #music blog

[9hiddenshallows]

"Dad lived his life through me. I’ve never thought that. The more accurate version of events is that I have lived my life through him."

09.10.19

BEWARE! SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!

A drum, a drum! Macbeth doth come! Yes, Chris’ latest project appears in that chapter entitled “Fall and rise”. The fall refers to the one he experienced during his third performances as Macbeth. A nasty fall that had caused him to be taking painkillers for the next thirty performances. When I saw him on stage back in May 2018, he probably was still taking them. Poor man. However, what we retain the most about this chapter is the presence of his late father. Ronnie Eccleston, gone in 2012, appeared to his son as he was stepping on stage as the leading role of the new RSC production of Macbeth. It was the first time Ronnie ever appeared to Chris since he was gone. This fall was painful and humiliating, but it was also a kick in the ass: he had to move on and keep playing. He shouldn’t dwell on it… and stay on stage next time. Chris then writes something that is very true for a lot of people out there: his father was living his life through him. Ronnie couldn’t get the life he wanted because of the times, because he had responsibilities, and he could see his son succeeding on fields he could never access sadly. To which Chris retorted that it was actually the reverse, that he was living his life through his father. The importance of Macbeth in Chris’ life is explained in that chapter. When he was in Salford Tech, he played Macduff and toured in several towns. It was a small part but he got his first rewards and good critics. That’s also with that role that his teacher realised that Chris wanted it, that he was made for this career. And with that career, he was doing an homage to his father and becoming the man Ronnie would have loved becoming. This reflection on theatre brings him to speak about his taste in music and how his parents and his brothers had influenced him. Alan and Keith were influenced by the most famous artists in the pop and rock worlds when Ronnie was more into Sinatra and soul music. Chris was a fan of Bowie, but not to the point of following his fantasies. He loved the man, the values he was standing for but he was turning to punk and black music. The latter is his favourite still to this day. He declared it during the New York Comic Con panel. What he loved the most in this music is the messages it delivered. The music was defining him, defining his father. As many of us do, he was a hardcore fan, spending money in singles and albums, in concerts. He knew all the songs by heart and even changed his physical appearances slightly to be like his idol, Rod Stewart. Remember the blonde strands of hair from his early beginnings? You got it. There is also a working-class habit often mentioned in the chapters – in this one and in previous ones: the habit of going in pubs to have a drink and listen to that music. His parents were doing it, his brothers were doing it and now he carries on the tradition with his own mates. I fancy a beer now, don’t you?

#Daily Eccleston #Christopher Eccleston #Literature #Reviews

[thereseoutspoken]

10 things I wish I knew (and told myself) at 20

20 is still a very young age

When I just became 20, I felt like I was a full grown woman, for the very reason that I was already out of my teenage years. I felt like I was already mature, and independent, and I felt like I should be serious with my life because I am already old enough. I couldn’t say these assumptions were all wrong. But I wish I could have told myself that 20 is still a very young age. It was an end chapter for my teen spirit, but twenty is only the beginning of a new one. Basically, at this age, you shouldn’t feel too old yet. Yes, you can still play dress ups on Friv, feel giddy over a childish crush, not know how to use the ATM machine, and still want your mom’s assistance during dental check ups. You have your entire life ahead of you to grow and learn. Right now, at twenty, just take things slow.

     2. Taking risks is different from gambling. Avoid the latter.

I have been told countless times by friends (and even the guy I fell in love with) that I should learn how to take risks. I should have listened. At times I am such a coward for not even trying. So yes, I should have listened when they said I should take some risks. But when they told me to take risks even though things are uncertain, I’m going to get hurt, or even if it’s not worth it, I disagreed. Know how to take risks… and when to take risks. Sometimes taking risks even if it’s not worth it could lead to so much pain, which also requires a great amount of time for healing. You could have used the time for healing for waiting on something you could have deserved at the right time, but instead you used it for risking on something uncertain and unworthy (At least there’s the learning part, though). So I tell you this: learn to take risks at the right circumstance. Do not gamble on ambivalence.Because part of taking risks is knowing (and internalizing) what’s at stake.

      3. You will fall in love with the wrong person and you don’t need to force them to be the right one.

Part of growing up is learning to open your heart to love. And part of loving is welcoming the pain, and accepting the things that are beyond our control. Sometimes, when we fall in love, we set aside their bad qualities because we love them. Sometimes it gets toxic and the hurt never stops yet we remain because again, we love them.

We just love the person so much that we want to make them better by changing them, or we change for them to adapt to their standards. But that shouldn’t be the way it is. If you want to change, do it for yourself and not for others, the same way change should transpire to them. It’s not your role to change who people are. More than that, you can’t make them right for you when they are obviously the wrong one.

I get that it’s not love if it doesn’t hurt, but if it puts you in agony more than it makes you feel safe and secured, then it’s not the love you deserve. Self-worth over feelings. At all times.

That’s why when you fall for the wrong person, don’t force them to be the right one. You’ll just end up draining yourself because you will be the only one left trying to keep the relationship together.

    4. As much as you will gain new friends, you will also lose some and that’s okay.

Every year I meet new people who, in the long run, become friends. That didn't change when I was 20. I established such awesome relationships with new friends and it felt so good—extending my circle a little bigger. But as much as I gained new companions, I also lost some. Some were because of big fights, others were just…well, we simply grew apart and realized we didn't need each other for our personal growths. At first I felt disappointed that it had to end that way. But then a vlogger said in one of her YouTube videos that “you don't grow up if you don't lose friends.” And I started to think that yes, she was right. In order for you to grow, you have to let go of what's keeping you from being a better version of yourself. If your relationship with anyone gets toxic, drop it. If it's not doing you any good anymore, calmly walk away. Part of growing up is letting go of what's hindering you from flourishing. Just be thankful for the ones who stayed and bid your silent farewell for the ones who left (or needed to leave).

    5. Start planning what’s next for you

You don’t need to figure everything out all at once. Life is still a blur at 20. But that shouldn’t stop you from envisioning what’s next for you. Commonly, at 20, people are already looking for a job, planning out their career path especially after graduation. I couldn’t say I wasn’t pressured looking at my friends being busy making resumes, travelling to different towns, being  wanted by two or more companies, and there I was… not knowing what to do with my life.

I don’t regret where I’m at in life right now. But if I could turn back time, I wish I’d have made concrete plans for my future self. 

    6. Try something new, even if you start out being bad at it.

I am always known for being a writer. If my name gets mentioned to people who barely know me, they usually say “you know, the journalist” or “the writer-slash-editor from Crusader”. A part of me is happy and proud that I have already established that image for myself. But somehow, I wanted to do new things. I wanted to branch out from writing because I felt like writing was the only craft I knew what to do; so I delved into photography. I always had a thing for good photos and also aspired to shoot such epic sceneries or emotions. I didn't have the equipment though, so I just borrowed from friends. I had a couple of photos published in the official page of the student pub, and also had several shoots with friends. But I knew I wasn't that good yet. I still had a hard time with the camera settings, my photos get blurred most of the times, and I still had a lot to learn. But the worst thing about exploring new things is being discouraged to excel at it. I have been told I am not considered as an artist, or that I should just stick to writing, or I should stop feeling like I'm an artist. Aside from the fact that my skills in photography aren't really that exceptional to be worthy of a handshake or an “artist” label, I gave up on photography because the people around me didn't believe in me the same way I put myself down for not being good enough.

And that was one of my regrets. I should have told myself that “hey, it's okay. You are still a beginner. Allow yourself to learn and improve.” I focused too much on my insecurities and other people's comments that I had to let the craft go. But now, I will pursue it once more.

You, wanting to learn more is okay. You, starting out as a loser is definitely normal. But you, surrendering because you feel like it's not for you just because you suck at it or people discourage you, is undeniably unacceptable. You do you. Soon you will be great at it and you will thank yourself for not giving up.

    7. 20 isn’t always sunshine and rainbows. Bask in the rain, overcome the storms.

The day I officially left the teenage life, I asked 20 to be better. 19 was rough for me, so I hoped 20 would be a lot easier, with a more stable emotional and mental state. Buuuutttt, I was wrong. It was actually pretty worse. Right now I’m just laughing at those struggles, but back in the day, I didn’t even know how to make it through the storm.

Needless to say, if 20 was a weather, she’d be a moody bitch, because it wasn’t consistently bad. There were also good days where I was thankful to just relax in the pouring rain or be happy because of the sunshine that reflects my soul. Actually, this doesn’t only apply when you’re 20. You can experience hardships and get through with it at any age. And that’s what makes surviving beautiful— you get to witness seasons and the weather change, and through it all you can finally say, “I made it past the gloomy days.”  

    8. Start being extra responsible.

I always wanted to work in Manila, but my parents do not quite agree with that plan. My mom would say things like, “Who would take care of you there?”, “Are you sure you’re responsible enough to live on your own?”. When I get sick or fail to do what she instructed me to do, she’d say, “See? You don’t even know how to take care of yourself.”, “You can’t be that irresponsible when you are in Manila.” So I thought about it for a long time. I know I am independent. But am I responsible?

I changed my goal from wanting to prove my mom that she was wrong, to proving myself that I can make things work on my own. Now I do things that adults do, like getting a TIN card, or spending for myself with no allowance from my parents. Maybe these are just little things, but they are stepping stones to being a responsible adult.

You have to think like you’re preparing yourself to live in Manila or any place far from home. Imagine how you can handle things without their financial support or physical guidance. Not only will you learn not to rely on them all the time, you’ll also grow and learn new things that can help you in the long run.

    9. Invest on things that you feel would help you be better.

Being 20 for me was full of negativity. A lot of things made me feel bad, and in result I got emotional and would often cry. But I learned that just like medicines, there are things in life that could relieve you from pain. All you have to do is invest on the ones that could make you be or feel better. In my case, I invested more on my spiritual growth. Some of you may not be (so) religious, but trust me when I say you have a God you can rely on. If you lift your inhibitions and worries to him, he will lighten your load.

Another thing worthy to invest on is self-care. I have been such a mess and would often cry in desperation because I didn't know how to get rid of the emotional pain I was feeling. But a good friend of mine, Winstar, made me a pinterest board full of tips on how to handle anxiety and execute self-care. It was great being reminded that I had to make myself better and I had to focus on my well-being, too.

    10. You are at your own pace

There are times when I can’t help but feel jealous over people who, at such a young age are already successful. While I’m just at home scribbling on my laptop, other people my age are already making a name for themselves. Some are already full-time employees, or opening their own businesses. Others are on their way to law school or med school.

On the contrary, I also have friends who are still starting out with their plans in life. Some friends would tell me, “You’re even lucky you’re done schooling. I’m not even graduating yet.” or “You’ve reached so much in life, while I haven’t even achieved anything yet.”

And it became clear to me: we’re the ones making competitions for ourselves with others. Perhaps the system and the society is pushing us to be this and that, to achieve this and bring honor to whom. But we’re only putting so much pressure on ourselves trying to race with the progress of others when in fact we have our own pace.

So what I have learned from all of this is: focus on your growth, your progress, your own fulfillment. Others may already be at their 4th lap while you’ve just started the engine. But so what? Others’ finish line is not your finish line.

You haven’t found the right career yet? You’re extended in college? Others are already getting married but you’re still single? That’s perfectly fine. Just continue the drive and soon you’ll get there.

#writing #creative writing #narrative #self love #self care #20 #life #literature #better #lifestyle #advice #wordsofwisdom

[ray-dog-67]

The Replacements - Bastards of Young (SNL 1986)

The Replacements were a band, who, early in their career played a ferocious style of punk, then segued into a straight-up pub rock n roll band. Led by rhythm guitarist Paul Westerberg, the tone of the songs became more in line with the singer-songwriters he admired. Early adherents of the group would yell “sell-out” but the band, whose first record, Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash, was released in 1981, soldiered on, their recorded output’s sound getting more polished and refined with each release. Finally, in 1991 the group called it quits. Up to that point, with varying degrees of quality, The Replacements released 8 LP’s; 4 of them on the major label Sire. Critics generally loved them, and indie rock fans gravitated to the group’s wild, even bizarre stage antics, and heavy drinking—of course, they all loved the tunes, but the craziness, especially exhibited by lead guitarist Bob Stinson, quickly thrust the band into legendary status. All of the members, drummer Chris Mars, bassist Tommy Stinson (Bob’s much younger half-brother), and Westerberg, were from the Minneapolis area which, at the time the band began, was not necessarily known for its punk/indie rock scene. For fans and rock connoisseurs on the coasts, Minnesota was a backwater, the rise of Prince was still a little way off, and Bob Dylan was more identified with New York than his home state. Part of the band’s repertoire consisted of songs like “Gary’s Got A Boner,” “Tommy Gets His Tonsils Out,” “I Hate Music,” crazed, punk-fueled, juvenile rippers that could get a basement party quickly moshing, pogoing, and throwing beer. As time progressed Westerberg’s songwriting would become more mature with tunes like the tender ballad “Skyway” from 1987’s Pleased to Meet Me, the sad, desolate “Unsatisfied” from the band’s 1984 album Let It Be; a song that pre-dated the grunge of the early ’90s. The Replacements were losing some older fans but gaining new ones. Contemporaries of R.E.M. The Replacements were part of the pack of indie rock bands who leaped to the major labels, but, unlike the quartet from Athens Georgia, The Replacements would never be able to score the huge hit or extended record deal, owing to their abhorrent behavior, and inner demons. When most people associated “college rock” with bands whose member’s image was nerdy, scholarly even while playing a style of pop that was jangly/folksy The Replacements were blue-collar, disheveled, even a bit clueless, no wonder I loved them so much. The span of their career proved to be that the band was a little ahead of their time, I think had they started in the mid to late 80’s they could have rode the wave the Seattle scene, scoring bigger hits, filling larger venues, while the record companies showered them with cash and incentives…or maybe not, The Replacements could never get out of their own way, but they would have an effect on indie rock for years, they were revolutionary in a manner that is hard to define. Author Bob Mehr’s well-researched Trouble Boys the True Story of The Replacements does an exemplary job of telling The Replacements’ rough, hardscrabble, emotional, tale.

Mehr begins the book with guitarist Bob Stinson’s funeral, in 1995, 4 years after the band called it quits. Stinson had been dismissed from the band at the end of 1986’s Tim tour was replaced by Bob “Slim” Dunlap, an acquaintance of the band. From there Mehr’s narrative begins with chapters dealing with each band member’s history—Chris Mars being the exception, he gets a few introductory paragraphs at the beginning of chapter 6. Through extensive interviews with family members, friends, and former band members Mehr is able to shed some light on the causes of The Replacements legendary dysfunction. This is not a fan’s glorification of the “rock n roll” lifestyle but rather a written expose’ of the childhood traumas suffered by the Stinson brothers. Paul Westerberg, a nerdy yet irascible teen, father is an alcoholic with a rather cynical, grim outlook on life. Chris Mars seems to have the least troubled upbringing, has musical and artistic yearnings, traits that get one labeled an outsider in most Midwestern communities. Trouble Boys tells the story of 4 boys, really, Tommy was only 12 when he started playing bass in Dogbreath, the first incarnation of The Replacements, who have somewhat similar backgrounds, who came together to form a rock group, even though they each had different tastes in music, temperament, and notions of how the band needed to conduct its business. The hard life caught up with Bob, his booze and drug addiction, did him in, his body couldn’t take it anymore, in a way he exemplified The Replacements, even though he was not a constant member. His style of guitar playing was fast, wild, usually performing on stage in a dress, diapers, or completely nude, a lover of prog rock a counterpoint to Westerberg’s more contemplative, singer-songwriter approach. The funeral is the perfect place to start, Bob Stinson remains a focal point of sorts, throughout the book.

By the mid-’80s The Replacements became indie rock celebrities, garnering some critical acclaim, major label interest, and a glorious—although completely fucked-up, performance on SNL, early 1986. Usually, this is when the story begins to grow stale, but Mehr does an excellent job chronicling the group’s interactions with major players in the record industry, while Westerberg is tasked with writing the always elusive big hit. Bob Stinson, a smart affable character when sober, was a major source of tension for his brother Tommy, Paul, and Chris, but his dismissal didn’t seem to put the band on the proper footing for success, the heavy drinking, and abhorrent behavior continued. Dunlap, whose family were successful lawyers and journalists, had a wife, 2 young children, and a 16-year-old daughter, was something of an anomaly within the group, his role, and contribution somewhat less than the elder Stinson. Still, he could keep up with the drinking and maintained a caustic attitude toward producers, managers, and Sire’s staff. Hotels, buses, venues were destroyed, while insults were lobbed at fellow rockers, chemicals never far from the band’s grip, that was the major label existence of The Replacements, by 1991 everyone had grown tired of it. Recently, there have been some reunion shows, but they were half-baked, with no intention of returning to the old days. Chris Mars was fired from the band before 1991’s All Shook Down tour, Dunlap suffered a stroke in 2012, hitting his head while falling to the floor.

After the breakup, Mehr follows the former bandmates solo projects, marriages, without losing any of the story’s traction. Sometimes a book, toward the end, can feel hurried, in need of an editor’s red-inked pen, this is not the case with Trouble Boys. The reader gets a glimpse of life after a band has broken up, and the realities of receiving unemployment checks, telemarketing jobs, or just simply hanging out with the family is a nice bookend to the chaos, anarchy of a signed, performing rock band.

Trouble Boys chronicles a time of popular music that was very different from our current environment, even though it really wasn’t that long ago. This book describes a band who redefined the term “underdog” who never had great success, but had a huge effect on rock’s direction, especially the mid 90’s Americana movement. Trouble Boys is full of insight, information, with concise prose, a pleasure to read, one of the best rock books I have ever read, and not because I was a huge fan of the band.

[toogoodmusic]

THE TOO GOOD TEN with Drew William

The Canadian Football Player and up and coming singer-songwriter Drew William follows up the early 2021 debut EP Room with the latest Message In A Bottle EP.

While playing music in coffee shops and restaurants for the past few years the athlete took advantage of the canceled football season last year to really dive into his musical passion. Now with six songs released, William has proven his ability to pull at your heartstrings with raw and honest songs that while personal to him can be healing and relatable to anyone who listens. A genuine level of intimacy blossoms in every song that gives way for his music to be both enjoyable alone or with close friends and family.

The latest EP release continues that level of intimacy that his fans have come to expect.The two song project features a brand new original release, “California Coastline” that gives ode to William’s home state while also paying respect to a song close to the singer’s heart with a cover of Post Malone’s “A Thousand Bad Times.” Find out more about Drew William and the latest EP by checking out his Too Good Ten below:

1. Starting from the beginning, when did music start for you? How did you realize you wanted to make a career out of it?  

DREW WILLIAM: The beginning is in a one bedroom apartment on Morley Ave. Some discreet little red building in a town most of the world has never heard of; Winnipeg, MB. I picked up the acoustic guitar three years ago in that apartment and have played it every single day since. I came into music naturally. Playing for friends, playing open mics, playing restaurants, pubs, and now going for it in the real music world. Have my first full-set show at Burt Cummings Theatre on April 20th. I feel this is my first big stepping stone.

DREW WILLIAM LIVE STREAM ON RED TIE LIVE’S FACEBOOK ON APRIL 20TH @ 8:00pm EST / 5:00pm PST. CLICK HERE TO WATCH.

2. You were born in California, went to college in Minnesota and now live in Canada. How have those three experiences make their influence into your music? Any of the (3) stick out as being most influential? 

DW: I like the surfer rock style a lot, that nostalgic almost drunk atmosphere that it places you inside. And when I moved to the Midwest it was a lot more folk and ballads. I guess I kind of have two sides to myself: this very twenty-six year old feeling his way through life and this old soul that feels like it’s already made the mistakes and is trying to come out and wisen me up. It’s an interesting mix of the two.

3. Congrats on the release of the debut EP, Room. What was the biggest learning from putting together and releasing a debut EP?

DW: To trust in my gut, and to not be so critical on myself. I knew that mixing and producing my own music was a risk, because It was a lonely venture into a world I was just learning about. I knew that I might not have the skills of a veteran who has been doing it for years. But at the same time, I wanted to enter music absolutely as myself. From the get go I wanted to share myself; no matter how rusty or beginner that sounded. I look at all this as a growth of music and a growth of self. I’m having to learn to let go of a lot of insecurities and fears, and for that I have to thank my own music.

4. And now fans have an additional taste of your music with the release of the Message In A Bottle EP.  What’s the EP title mean to you?

DW: “Message in a Bottle” came to me from a line in the lyrics: It says, “On that California Coastline / We’re fire and rain at the same time / I found a bottle on the sea / With a message on the inside / Is a tale about a lost love / From a boy who held these memories.” It’s this goodbye to a past version of myself, to the old loves and it’s this intimate goodbye because it’s more than just memory it’s a part of soul, too, that no longer serves. 

So the throwing of the bottle is this closure; a letter written and sealed by the same person. An opening up and a goodbye. This seems to be what growth feels like now. Maybe that will change in appearance, or feel differently, I’ll find out. But for now, this feels like a goodbye to an old self, with a mindset of growing up whilst not losing that child inside that makes all of this fun and freeing. 

5. You’re not only a musician but also a wide receiver for the Canadian Football League team Winnipeg Blue Bombers. How do you balance being both an artist and an athlete? What’s the biggest challenge of pursing both careers? 

DW: This past season was cancelled so it became a focus point to work on my music. This year as we anticipate a season, I have to tread carefully because it’s something I have never done, two things simultaneously.  I used to believe these two worlds had to be separate, music and football. But it has proven to be quite the contrary. It has opened the doors for my music to be heard, and I will continue to see them as supporting roles in my life.

6. As an athlete is it tough for you to show a more vulnerable side through your music? 

DW: It is. I’ll be straight up honest. There is a lot of insecurity on a football team. Egos, hyper masculinity, these things exist everywhere. But there are guys who are so much more than this sport. I hope to be an example to kids who are afraid to show their emotions, show them that you can be so many different things in life and still maintain your truest essence. I just live passionately, whether that’s on the field or on stage, I’m putting it all on the line.

7. Do you have any funny/fun/weird fan interaction stories you can share? 

DW: I was supposed to play this little curb-side concert, this family won it in a little raffle I held and when I showed up it was just one couple. The wife was wasted and the husband was 30 years older than her. Their son came in and out of the room where I half heartedly played for them (he was schizophrenic but was the most normal person in the house). And then there daughter came up from the basement wearing all leather like she was about to hit the corner. She was probably thirty-five, filming me on her phone.. I was very weirded out. The wife had made bacon pirogi's for me. I told her I was a vegetarian. She didn’t understand why someone would do that…. And she kissed me on the cheek when I left. I was very disturbed ha-ha.  

8. If you could headline a music festival – which one would be the dream festival? And who would be your choice for the other (2) acts that would headline the other two nights of the festival?

DW: I really think me, The Lumineers and Ziggy Alberts could all put on a nice little folk fest. I wanna play the Red Rocks Amphitheatre in CO. Just an unbelievable venue. Not sure if there is a festival there though! I’ll go to anywhere that will take me at this point!

9. If you could only listen to (5) artists for the rest of your life who would they be? 

DW: So basically my life anyway? Ha, I kid I kid. Truthfully: Mt. Joy, The National,  Angus & Julia Stone, Cat Stevens & Zella Day

10. What’s the rest of 2021 look like for Drew William?

DW:  A whole lot of learning, relationship building, collaboration, and diving deep inside and bringing out The best and truest art. I can feel my life changing before me, it’s frightening but exhilarating. Ready for this ride!

We’re ready for that ride as well! Shout-out to Drew William for hanging for this Too Good Ten. Keep updated with Drew by following along with the links below and be sure to tune TOMORROW, April 20th @ 8:00pm EST / 5:00pm PST right HERE. 

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The Too Good Ten interview series is dedicated to giving you a quick glimpse at some of the freshest voices in music. Ten Questions. One Artist. Too Good. Let’s go.

While The Too Good Ten is dedicated to just highlighting ten questions from an artist, Too Good Music was lucky enough to score an additional two questions from Drew...check them out below:

BONUS QUESTION #1: Congrats on the new releases of “California Coastline” and the cover of Post Malone’s “A Thousand Bad Times.” What surprised you/or what might people not know about the process of covering and releasing your own version of another artist’s song?

DW: The part I was focused on was really making it my own version. Something people know but don’t know, so it feels like an entirely different ride. I wanted also to pay my respects to the song. It meant a lot to me. I’m sure it helped a lot of people. It’s also a message I needed to hear, especially now. We all need this reminder. We’re all feeling something right now, no need to hide that. This is a very hard time. But we are resilient people and it’s been a gift to witness and a gift to make music that continues to carry this message of resiliency and strength.

BONUS QUESTION #2: Your Quarantine Campfire series on IG live – where you perform, do Q&A’s and bring along friend’s and guests – is awesome. How’d you come up with that concept and would be a dream guest on the series? 

DW: This was an extension of the in-person curb-side-concerts I was doing throughout the summer. Creating an intimate and safe place to share music, highlight some local artists and just have fun with the community. Man… My dream guest. Probably Zella Day cuz I got a lot respect for her music and I once saw her sing “Man on the Moon” on YouTube, all acoustic, and I was blown away. It would hit perfectly on my quarantine campfire.

#music #folk #guitar #acoustic #blog #music blog #the too good ten #interview #interviews #drew william #singer #songwriter #winnipeg blue bombers #football #linebacker #zella day #post malone #winnipeg #athlete #toogoodten

[takemedancingmaine]

16

My heart is in my throat. My pulse is thundering through my veins, echoing in my ears and with everything I have in me I fight to keep my breath steady.

The world feels like it slows down for a moment. It's as if I'm moving at my normal speed while everything and everyone else is moving in slow motion. Everything aside from Jack turns fuzzy.

He's standing in front of me, a wide smile and his dimples flashing. His hair is windswept, or rustled from his fingers running through it--either option is entirely plausible. He's got on black jeans and clad in an incredibly soft looking jumper that's a bit big for him.

He looks quite fit.

My mouth goes dry.

I remind myself to smile at him, instead of just staring, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. Very attractive, Wren.

His eyes relax into his smile when he sees my own smile grace my face and he gestures for me to walk toward the counter to order.

"How are you doing?" He asks. "Have you settled into your job yet?"

He remembered. Well damn.

"I'm alright," I nod. "I've grown quite accustomed to my new job. Everyone tells me I'm getting on, so I assume I'm doing something correctly."

He chuckles as we stand in line. "I'm sure you're doing very well."

"I don't know," I shrug, ready to get into it. "I couldn't even keep up with Charlie's project assignment this morning, so I doubt I'm really keeping up with the news," I step up to order before he can form a rebuttal.

After I order, in the split second before I can hand my card over Jack steps up to order, too.

"I'll pay for hers as well," he tells the clerk, who shrugs and takes down his order.

We move toward the counter where our food will be out shortly and he gives me a curious look.

"Thank you for paying," I say quietly, my nerves still on edge at his proximity, the image of him winking at me in the pub last week sending a shiver through me before I regain myself and centre back into the present.

"O'course," he smiles and bites his lip. His beard is filling in nicely now. It had been slightly scraggly before, but now it's full. It makes me curious though, his ginger beard is much darker than his hair. I know it's usually a case of slightly different colours--when Liam's not shaved his face is covered in almost black scruff--but something about the lightness of his hair versus the beard has me squiggling my eyebrows in curiosity.

I wonder how that beard would feel under my fingertips.

Jesus Christ, Wren. Get it together, I chastise myself.

What would it feel like against my cheek, my lips-fucking hell you stupid bugger, stop this train of thought, please!

Jack's raised an eyebrow at me, I realize when I finally make it back to reality.

The curious glint is still in his eyes.

"Did you learn anything from the project?" He teases now.

I flush a bright pink colour and lower my gaze to my feet.

"No," I shake my head. "All I learned is that my six-year-old nephew is going to grow up to be smarter than me and his dad combined."

Jack laughs at that. I look up to see his head thrown back and the joyous sound fills the café. It's absolutely lovely, that sound is. I want to hear that all the time.

"His dad's a lawyer, right?" Jack asks.

"He is," I nod. "He had some mediation or something to be at this morning so I got to help Charlie with the project while he skipped out."

"Oh, so you were a babysitter and a tutor today?" He asks with a smirk.

"No," I shake my head again. "I was the sitter, but Charlie was the tutor," I explain. "He absolutely knew more than me. Even after I used my phone to search things."

"Y'know," Jack gives me a smirk that has me all kinds of nervous, "I honestly feel that way every single day with these kids."

"That cannot be true," I give him a look.

"It is," he says earnestly. "I feel like I cannae keep up with everything they know. One told me just yesterday about this new Mars rover project. I had no idea some of the stuff he was going on about," he explains.

I end up giggling. "Maybe you picked the wrong profession," I tease.

"Oh, I absolutely should've been a footballer," he nods. "I was quite good as a young lad. I definitely made a mistake going to uni," he goes right along with my teasing.

I bite my lip to keep from giggling, but some giggles slip out anyway. He gives me some side-eye but is forced to look away when our food gets placed out on the countertop.

He grabs the tray and carries it for us back to our small table in the corner.

I pour my tea while he asks another question.

"D'you spend a lot of time with Charlie, then?" He asks I can tell by the way he won't meet my eyes he's referring to time after what happened to April.

"I always have," I say by way of smoothing that gap a bit. He's offhandedly trying to ask if I took care of Charlie for Liam.

I'm not offended by the question, for myself or Liam. It's natural to be curious since a lot of my life revolves around Charlie and Liam. Especially since my taking care of Charlie was a result of how we'd met in the first place.

"His mum and I were close as well. We weren't mates or anything until she and Liam got quite serious, just as Li was applying to law programs, but I had a key to their house long before anything happened. Since then I've just been trying to help out more so than before."

Jack's eyes are on his tea until I start speaking again.

"Besides, Charlie is the coolest kid," I shrug when his eyes meet mine, the blue swirling around his irises like oil paints on canvas. "Who wouldn't want to spend time with that little nugget?"

The question is rhetorical, but Jack smiles, a quiet chuckle slipping past his lips. "No," he says, "I love spending time with him. He's got quite a vivid imagination."

I smile, my cheeks pink again. "He really does," I nod.

We fall into a comfortable silence as I start nibbling on my blueberry scone and I look out the window to see that it's started to rain lightly, umbrellas beginning to pop up all along the sidewalk as people continue on their way unperturbed.

"You were going to be a footballer then?" I ask with a smile.

Jack's eyes light up and he leans forward eagerly. "I was going to play for Scotland," he tells me. The excitement palpable, almost visible in the air surrounding him, as if out of nowhere I've come to possess synesthesia and can see his aura shift colours.

"Oh, really?" I ask, looking down at the pastry, his aura almost too much.

"M'not joking," he tells me, his eyes on mine when I look up again.

I raise an eyebrow.

"Okay, so I never got that far, but eventually, maybe, I could have played for Scotland," he shrugs.

"What made you become a teacher then?" I ask, curious.

"I was actually pure rubbish at football," he smirks.

I roll my eyes.

"And so you went to school instead," I finish.

He nods. "Exactly," he finally looks up into my eyes again, his aura bright, his oil painting blue eyes swirling. He may be rubbish at football, but clearly, he loves it.

"No, I became a teacher because I had one when I was younger, Mr Wiles, that absolutely inspired me, so here I am," he says.

"Here you are," I give a nervous little smile with a small gesture towards the café around us.

"Right," he smiles back at me. "I'm with you, having a nice brew and getting mentally prepared to view some art."

"You don't have to make the art part sound like I'm dragging you to a monthly meeting of the ignorant tight-arse club," I tease and then my cheeks flame when I remember who I just said that to.

I close my eyes and lower my head toward the table before I hear his laughter. Again, I'm drawn to it, but I keep my head down.

"I'm-I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I didn't mean to make it sound like that. I'm not dreading it. I promise," he manages through his laughter.

"It's really not bad," I grumble but look up anyway.

"I don't know why I said it like that," his cheeks tinge pink under his beard. "I like art. I wouldn't have agreed otherwise," he adds quickly. "I just want to be in a proper mindset to appreciate it when we get there rather than just stroll through and not think anything of it."

My own embarrassment fades slightly, but I can still feel it tingling in my nerve endings.

"If you do end up hating it though, could you pretend to like it? The gallery is run by my flatmate--some of the work is hers, even--and it might be a bit awkward if you end up thinking it's rubbish," I bite my lip.

"Scouts honour," Jack nods.

"Thank you," I manage to whisper as I bring my mug to my lips and take a sip, the brew relaxing me a bit.

I've noticed that I'm not stuttering or speaking in half sentences so much around him. Instead, I'm just throwing up a  bit of word vomit and dealing with incessantly pink-tinged cheeks.

I don't know which I'd rather deal with, to be honest. I'm much more used to not being able to speak rather than not being able to hold my words back. This is weird for me. Awkward either way, but I don't know which I'd rather. The evil I know and am used to, or the evil I don't and am not used to.

"Did you always know you wanted to be a journalist?" Jack asks as I nibble a bit on my scone.

I nod quickly before managing to swallow my bite.

"For the most part," I say quietly. "There was a brief period where I wanted to be a trapeze artist."

He raises an eyebrow at me, his eyes dancing behind his cheeky smile. He doesn't say anything though. He knows I'm getting him back for the footballer comments he'd made.

"No, I always knew. There was a bit in secondary school, when Liam was just starting college, that I thought I might want to go into a more stable career field, like law or even teaching," I give him a nod, "but I couldn't shake my ability to write stories and articles, my willingness to disseminate information that matters."

"How'd you get the job at the BBC?" He asks, seemingly genuinely interested.

I think about what Piper said the other night. He asked me out. He wants to see where this could go with me. He honestly wants to get to know me. At least, that's what she'd said.

"One of my professors at uni helped me to get an internship there for class credit. I mostly just refilled coffee cups and made sure the printers had enough paper," I sip the last bits of my brew.

"After I graduated, they took me on as a paid intern, y'know, to do all the boring things like fact-checking other journalists' stories and vetting their sources. I only stepped up minutely in pay and in responsibility," I add and pour another cup from the teapot, adding my two sugars. "From there, two years ago, they made me an actual reporter. I did a lot of stories that would be found buried deep on the website, buried on page twelve of the paper where no one would read them."

"Why is that?" Jack asks.

"The things I would write about were front-page news in importance and context, but were never high in interest-level demographics," I shrug. "It's fine. I'd long since gotten used to it. And they were the news stories I wanted to write. I knew what I was getting into."

"And now you're in a broadcast newsroom, right?"

I nod before responding, but he opens his mouth again before I even finish forming a thought.

"Sorry, 'm just genuinely curious," he tells me. "My job is the most basic out there, and your job is groundbreaking and cool and I genuinely want to hear all about it."

I bookmark his thinking being a teacher is boring to come back to later before I start talking again.

"It's okay," I tell him. "Apparently the EP, the executive producer, of the BBC nightly news hour segment for 8-9 every weeknight had been reading some of my work and thought it would work really well in broadcast format. He said something about my sources and connections being important to the job as well," I say modestly.

I don't have to act modestly. I only know some corporate lawyers through Liam, the definition of know being used quite generously. Basically, I just know their names. I didn't really build up those credentials through years of hard work. They just happened.

"God, that sounds so cool," he breathes out in excitement.

"It's really not that different," I tell him. "Obviously the pace is quicker, but it's pretty normal as far as jobs go at least."

"I deal with six-year-olds every day for eight hours a day," Jack shakes his head. "My job is always keeping me on my toes, but comparatively it's much more normal than yours."

"I don't know," I smile, "the leaves Charlie and I picked up today--the ones that I still cannot pronounce--are far from normal."

"Oi!" Jack calls but flushes bright pink under my gaze and my teasing words.

17

The rain hasn't let up, but it's not that bad, so after assuming Jack that I'd be fine to walk in it for a few blocks, we pulled our hoods up over our heads and made our way toward Piper's gallery.

We each had a paper cup filled with a replenished brew in our hands and despite the weather, we weren't walking at a ridiculous pace. Just sort of making our way, not lackadaisically, but not rushing.

"Did you and your brother plan on getting out of Birmingham then, or was it just a coincidence that you both ended up in London?"

"I never said-" I give him a funny look but he cuts me off.

"Your accent," he clarifies with a smirk and a small shrug.

I roll my eyes. "It just sort of happened. He found a law firm here and I've been here since I went to Kings for uni. And if you want to get specific, we're actually from Small Heath."

"Isn't that where Peaky Blinders is based?" He asks now.

I snort. "It is," I nod. "If only my backstory was half as cool," I say.

"You excited for the new season?"

"'M worried," I admit. "I know every season looks dark when they roll out the preview, but this one looks filled with disparity."

"Honestly, I'm scared as well," he tells me. "I love the show, but there are some decisions I'm not too fond of..." He trails off when he has to skirt through some people going the opposite direction.

He shakes his head at the gruffness of the group that passes and sidles back up beside me.

"We're only right here," I point as the gallery comes into view.

"Just when I was thinking the rain was getting a little heavier, too," he pulls his free hand from the confines of his pocket before he grabs the door to ColourOpticTrip™️and we escape the rain and cold, our cheeks pink as we push our hoods back.

Jack scans the open room, taking in the white walls, the dark wooden flooring, and the photographs adding colour and contrast everywhere he looks.

To his credit, he does actually look like he's enjoying his preemptive scan.

My attention is called away from his face as I slip out of my jacket and Piper comes out of the black room behind the front desk. Her steps falter when she realises who it is that's come in, but she recovers quickly.

There's a little buzzer back there that alerts her and the owner--if by chance she's in--to anyone coming into the gallery. Piper's got her classic weekend attire on, nothing out of the ordinary as she strolls around the desk to make her way toward us; Jack still looking around in interest.

Her grey Eagles concert tee is tucked into her black skinnies and her feet are adorned in (my) black Chelsea boots. My brown ones are already on my own feet. That sneak. I cut her a glance, but she doesn't notice, she's busy looking at Jack until she comes to a stop right in front of us.

"Admiring anything in particular?" She queries as Jack's attention snaps back from an enlarged print of a rainy Camden Town, only a few blocks away from our flat, to meet Piper's gaze.

"I'm just glancing around so far," Jack smiles politely at her, "but that print is quite interesting."

Piper nods and crosses her arms over her chest, leaning her weight on her right foot and swaying a bit to look at it. "I'm actually just working on editing another version of that print right now."

"That's yours?" Jack asks, his blue gaze going back to the print before meeting Piper's eyes again. It's not quite surprise colouring his tone, but intrigue and fascination.

She smiles at him. "It is," she extends her hand. "Piper," she says. "Nice to finally meet you, Jack."

I cringe internally, and perhaps a bit externally as well. The way she said 'finally' makes it seem as if I've been talking about and pining for him for far longer than I actually have. I hope more than anything he didn't catch that use of the word.

He probably has caught it, but I still hold out hope.

"Ah," Jack shakes her hand and smiles at me as he figures out just who Piper is. The blue oil colours lightening with his own enlightenment in regards to the situation. I blush furiously under that gaze and shift my eyes to the floor. Not before Piper's smug filled look gives me pause, though.

"Nice to meet you as well, Piper," he gives his charm to her--not that he has to try, it just seems to ooze from him--and honestly, if Piper didn't know any better in regards to the situation, I know she'd already be thinking of ways to get him into her bed. As it is though, she keeps her flirting to a minimum. I appreciate that fact.

"Well," she gives me a look I can't quite decipher and opens her arms to the gallery, "I'll be back here." She nods toward the desk. "If you'd like I can take your macs and hang them on the rack as well."

Unceremoniously, I take my wet mac and plop it into her arms, earning me a glare and some under the breath mumbling about how I'm such a twat. I bite my bottom lip to stop my smirk.

"If ya don't mind," Jack says politely as he slips his mac off as well before handing it over to Piper, who is much more prepared for his interaction than mine.

"Not at all," she gives him a smile before shooting daggers at me and heading away.

Jack has sweater paws, I realise as we begin to walk through the gallery, heading upstairs first. It's so endearing that my cheeks flare as I watch him while he gazes upon the art. I've seen most of the work before, excluding the newer exhibits downstairs, so I've got more attention placed upon him than the room.

We've since finished our teas and when I come back from throwing the cups in a bin I catch myself gazing at him again.

I'm so in awe of him as a person. The most interesting part though is that he finds me interesting. Something about me compels him, which is absolutely nuts.

I know because of Melissa and the praise I get for my work that I need to hold myself in higher regards, and honestly, I do. For the most part.

The thing I don't understand though is that around Jack I've not really done anything to capture his attention. I don't understand what I should get his attention for. Perhaps there's something in my subtlety in regards to my personality.

Just as I'm thinking about how lucky I am that I'm on a date with Jack, with a human being that seems kind and interesting and worth spending my time with, Jack glances my way, catching me watching him--for the second time.

I blush furiously and close my eyes with a sigh. There's nothing else I can do, really.

Jack chuckles a bit beside me. I feel his gaze burning me and I slowly open my eyes to see him smirking at me.

"What?" He asks.

I bite my lip and shrug, I honestly feel like I've forgotten what words are and even if I remembered there's no guarantee I'd be able to pronounce them.

"Wren," he prompts, his gaze expectant. My name on his tongue gives my stomach a flutter. "You can tell me," he adds. "Have I got something on my face? Did I knick myself shaving?"

His hands go to his beard, he runs them over his cheeks and I smile and shake my head, "No, no. Nothing like that."

"What is it, then?"

"I was just looking," I lower my gaze from him to my feet. "Curious as to why someone would be willing to spend time with me when I've hardly given him reason to."

Fuck.

I did not mean to say that. Shit.

First, I can't remember how to speak and now I end up just saying whatever comes to me. What kind of cocked up karma is this?

I sense him as he shifts closer to me, see his feet as they come to rest right in front of mine. I can smell him, something minty and something outdoorsy mixing together. He overpowers my senses.

Then I feel him. It registers in my mind that this is our first physical contact. He's got his index finger under my chin, nudging it up so that my gaze is on his own again rather than our feet.

My skin under his touch feels like it's on fire. I feel the energy radiating off of him with how close he is. I'm struggling to breathe as he looks at me, his eyes so sincere as he bites his bottom lip and swallows hard.

Oh my god, his lips are so very pink. Shut up, Wren, I chastise my thoughts.

"You're an enigma," he whispers. "Admittedly, you're sexy as hell," his eyes flash and my breathing hitches. "But you're quiet and shy," he pauses, "I can tell because you blush like it's your standard state and I have this inexplicable urge to see it more and more. I don't know how I can explain it. Clearly, you're much more adept with words than me, but I just know I have to find out more."

I'm speechless. I'm barely breathing. Oh my god.

"Plus," he licks his lips and smirks, "your use of grammar just now was a huge turn on."

I blush, but let out a small laugh, his thumb stroking my cheek.

"There it is," he uses his free hand to point out my blush. "And, you've talked about me to Piper, so I know you feel something, too."

I want to groan in my displeasure, but I hold it back.

"Was really hoping you didn't catch onto that," I grumble.

He laughs, the sound making me flutter.

"I could tell," he leans in to whisper in my ear, his breath tickling my neck before he pulls away and lowers his hand from me, instead, he offers me his hand to hold.

"Shall we see some more art, now?"

I place my hand in his, take a deep breath, and nod.

"I'd love to," I tell him.

18

"I'll see you again soon then, right?" He asks, his hand still in mine as we stop just outside my front door.

Piper won't be home for a while, and I'm so ready to just lie down and process my day, process what's happened in my life to get me here. As much as I don't want to end my time with Jack, my brain is drained and I'm in desperate need of a recharge.

The rain's stopped and the air is heavy and smells like damn asphalt mixing with the crisp scent of fall. Our fingers intertwined are warm, our noses and heels are chilled, but we're smiling at each other.

"You will," I nod. "I had a wonderful afternoon. Thank you."

"The pleasure was mine, Wren Kearney," he leans in then, swiftly, and caught off guard I freeze. He kisses my forehead gently and untangles our fingers to brush some of my hair from my face.

"I'll call you," he steps back and smirks. "Have a g'night," he skips down the two steps from the stoop to the street and turns for the briefest of moments to wink before he begins to walk away.

My jaw drops open. Literally pops open. I can feel where his lips were on my forehead, can still feel the warmth of his fingers in between mine, can still smell him. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"Fucking hell," I gasp out as I fumble with the keypad and let myself in, climbing up the two flights and then wrestling my keys from my pocket, dropping them twice before managing to unlock the door and slip inside.

I gently kick my feet from my boots and hang my mac back up on its peg by the door. Without even a second thought I slip myself into my bed and close my eyes.

Naps can be severely underrated.

Sleep doesn’t come to me just yet, though. Instead, I’m rolling through scenes of the afternoon, over and over and over again of what I said, didn’t say, what I did and didn’t do.

That’s when the thoughts drift to Jack entirely. The way my name sounds coming from his mouth, his dimpled smirk, his overwhelming scent that almost hypnotized me, his blue eyes that I would let drown me given the chance to do so. I think of his laugh that I’ve grown quite fond of, like a little melody I cannot manage to banish from my subconscious that when heard in real life sends a thrill through me.

The way he licked his lips when he was so close to me, the feeling of his hand on my face. The warmth of his fingers in mine.

I think about how I found out he’s from Oxton, a small town outside of Edinburg in the Scottish Borders. How his older sister Lily is a social worker and how he doesn’t like her new boyfriend even though he seems perfectly fine. It’s a principle that he has to dislike him.

Lily had moved to London to follow her last boyfriend and when that ended Jack was just graduating uni in Glasgow. He’d moved in with her, into what used to be their apartment in order to keep a close eye on her after that. He’d found the teaching job and had been there since.

He was happy here, but he missed Scotland. That much was evident just by his tone of voice when he talked about it.

As I feel myself drifting, my eyes closing, my breathing slowing, all I can see behind my eyes is his face, all I can feel is his warmth, and all I can hear is that melody of his voice, his laughter, until I’m unconscious.

“Get up, you little cunt.”

“Get fucked,” I growl out as Piper bounces onto my bed, crawling over me and falling into place beside me, leaning against the wall as she pokes me in my midsection over and over.

When I open my eyes she’s got this cheeky grin on her face and I shove her before covering my face with my pillow.

“No!” She protests and yanks the pillow from me, her hair slapping me in the process. “You have to tell me everything.”

“You better have something to give me in return for this dissection of my life you’re about to take from me,” I glare at her.

“There’s a brew and some chocolate biscuits waiting for you on your nightstand and I just put a lasagna in the oven for our dinner. You’ve got fifty minutes before that’s ready, so drink your brew and spill it all.”

“You’re so pushy,” I grumble.

“You love me,” she winks.

“I do,” I nod and then shove a biscuit in my mouth, chewing slowly in order to draw out her wait a bit more.

She rolls her eyes at my tactics and sighs loudly.

“Alright, alright,” I blush and launch into my story, starting with Liam being late and sending my nerves into overdrive.

When Piper is satisfied—I’ve left out the bit where he kissed my forehead and winked goodbye—is right about when the timer for our dinner goes off. I don’t know why I’ve left it out, to be honest. I just think that maybe I wanted to keep that bit for myself, keep some of what was my budding relationship with Jack just between me and him. I can’t really describe the feeling, but I knew I was right in keeping it private.

It made me smile—the thought of him that close. I wanted to have something of my own from today to relive until next time.

“What’re we watching?” she asks while she scoops out slices for each of us and I set up pillows and blankets on the couch before scrolling through our Netflix queue.

“How does Rogue One sound?” I ask.

“Diego Luna?” she asks back rhetorically. “Yes, please.”

“Predictable,” I scoff but thank her when she sits down beside me and hands me my plate.

“You love me, babe,” she shoves her shoulder into mine and we start to eat after I hit play.

“You were right, by the way,” she turns to me after an action sequence had calmed down onscreen.

“Right?” I ask.

“Charlie’s teacher, Mr Lowden,” she smirks devilishly, “he’s fit as fuck.”

I blush and hide my face behind a pillow as she laughs to herself.

When I get up to replenish our brews I check my phone. There are two texts: one from Liam that’s telling me about some festival at Charlie’s school next weekend and the second is from Jack.

My heart races as I open the text, but a smile breaks over my face as I read it.

Jack: Is tomorrow too soon? — Of course not. But how about we get drinks when you get off work Tuesday?

I bite my lip and reply.

Wren: Meet me in the lobby of the BBC building at 9:15.

His reply is instantaneous and I feel a flutter when my phone lights up again.

Jack: See you then. Remember to bring those blushing cheeks of yours that I like so much.

I close my eyes and set my phone down before rejoining Piper on the couch, cuddling closer to her as she’s since taken the blankets from me. I can tell she knows something, but she doesn’t ask, so I don’t offer anything as the movie ends and we each head off to bed.

#hmd #Hand Me Down #chapter six