#apart from dylan i guess but i grew away from him in later years

[varadasethus]

Ryan in a recurring role in 2024 is literally a dream come true

#i know where I'd rather he has a recurring role in but I'll take it! so joyfully! #and another period drama? so so good #a period detective drama at that! #need him to be the killer #unfortunately everyone i ever really cared about on casualty is gone #apart from dylan i guess but i grew away from him in later years #still! #another show both ryan and louise will have been in and I'll watch only for them

[captainshyguy]

not to be a little melancholic but i've been thinking a bit about all the people that have come and gone in my general social circle like. not just irl, but online too. the close friends, who eventually left, and the ones on the outskirts, but were always there. at least, for a time. the people you never quite talked to, but were in your bubble, in your life, if just for a bit. the people who will only be icon, words on a screen to me. the people who will forever be 14 in my memories, because its all i have of them 

its just...its weird yknow? not even getting into social circles from school, friends you grew apart from, friends of friends of friends in your class that you had an odd connection with

but online its like. i’ve been in a few online communities in my time. the penguins of madagscar community on fanpop, one for the same fandom on deviantart, the agents of shield one here, then the maze runner, then star wars, then mario, then star wars again...i’d say ‘and hollow knight now’ but lets be honest, i haven’t made....many friends or even mutuals through it solely X]

i guess my point is like. all of these communities were different people. and over time, whilst i’ve generally stayed put (until i was physically the last one left, and jumped ship, like fanpop) people just. they left yknow? maybe it took a couple of months, maybe a couple of years, but they did, and its such an almost...odd thing to experience

im not saying people cant leave, not at all but it just made me think how many people i’ve known, how many i’ve been friends with, how many existed in my orbit. how many i only have pieces of. and i guess...how many people’s orbits i was in. the person i was in the past lives on through each and every one of then, and i have no idea what stuck. what’s their ‘luke’ memory, their takeway. heck, some of them wouldn't even have it by that name. 

one thing im glad about in a way is like. from each of the communities that like. meant something to me, i managed to grab a few people almost. a few that also dug their heels in, a few that are still in my orbit, however close or far, but they’re there. they’re posting actively or somewhat actively and i know where to find them. and thats nice 

it just makes me wonder sometimes yknow?? how many people currently in my circle, currently in my orbit, will eventually leave one day? who will stop posting, who’s icon i simply will never see again.

i do hope, with all my heart, that all the ones that i fell out of touch with are doing well 

(im musing about specific people under the read more, WILL get long kjdfhnd) 

from my primary/secondary school i dont have anyone exactly. the closest i have is one guy i was pretty fond of but not like. romantically. i follow his youtube and whilst i dont really watch the videos seeing his face pop up every now and again is nice. but man i do think back on those secondary school friends. funnily enough by the end whilst i liked my “official” best friends i honestly ended up more fond of others. sarah, priya, shriya, zarah, zi yu, kyle. danny, introducing me to treasure planet, hiding away with him and his friends to watch films in forgotten rooms when it was near the end of the year, then liam, of course, man..its weird he was my best friend in the first few years when i moved there, then we got put in different classes so we just didnt see eahc other much. but that fondness was always, always there. god, and jake....i wonder if he thinks back fondly to the two of us pretending to be transformers. i wonder if im still jazz to him. god, and then sophia, just, not even hanging out but having our little ‘hot buttered toast’ song. i hope thats the memory she has of me. (i haven’t even listed everyone from this part, and i couldnt! it was a 7-8 year period of my life! right during my brain developmental stages!!)

its weird i was in love with ryan for nearly three years. a lot of those memories are soured knowing one of my friends spread it around school and everyone secretly knew, (and looking back i was way out of his league like, morally lol) but still. maybe once or twice a year i’ll dream about him, and for a brief moment, im there, sitting with him in geography as he shows me magic tricks, during that period i do genuinely think he liked me too (before it wore off for him lol) and im still in love. 

from college, man....ewan was like. i have a feeling he was leading me on since he had a girlfriend lmao, and was just flirting for fun bc he saw i was shy and was trying to get me to react, but it never felt like bullying yknow? i dont think he was actively trying to make fun of me. so i dont know, it was nice, it felt nice and it still kinda does. 

khairun.....im so glad i still have her. i’m still a little gay for her. i remember sitting with her on the bus, riding for hours as we were on the geology trip, and she would ramble about the game of thrones video game and she’d squint so happily and her eyes would sparkle. she talks about dark souls now and i only see her messages, but i can still feel her enthusiasm. or tanisha and fatima, my other geology friends, my maze runner friends. seeing the scorch trials with fatima in the cinema. joking about newt and thomas with tanisha. sitting around the table with my actual friend group, in the big lounge chair reading the tolkien dictonary, joking about the flash with bindiya. sleeping around maddie’s house and playing would you rather. 

heck, i didnt even touch on teachers!!! teachers i connected with so much on a genuine level!!! mrs chambers, mr hauge, mr wrght, miss lloyd, mr hutchinson, miss petra, mrs young! mrs mohammed, mr santa maria, mr longdon, miss langley, mrs maize, miss davies. i know with teachers, the kids must start to blur together at a point. but i just....i hope, at least. with those first two, they’ll remember me, just a bit. i keep having dreams where im in my old school, and i try to find them., i’ve found mr hague a few times. but until about a month ago, whenever i got to geography, miss chambers was never there. im glad i finally found her. 

then fanpop...lexii, having the same birthday as me, talking with kait and roleyplaying as penguin ocs in high stakes situations. dating dylan fkjdngjdh, rigging the club’s presidential election. its weird, i dont have a lot of memories from this time. just....just people? people posting their ocs, people drawing ech others ocs. kaitlyn, anya, kait, dylan, lexii, imaneasel, mya, peacebaby, madascargirl, kate, starslight, imogen, tressa, sammi, crystal, cc, syliva, jasmine, hikari, amber,  yellow, steff, lilly, blue, richard, monique, sharpey, hannah, icicle, ratking, cian i- god, there was so many of us. theres more, i can think of more names. there was so many

anya did what i did pretty much and went to deviantart then kinda dug her heels in and didnt leave, though i don think she’s more active on toyhouse. and yet, i still see her art there, so its nice. having her throughout the years has been nice, watching as both of our art improves. she’s always been a bit ahead of me. then cian i’ve been talknig with pretty much every day for about 6 months now, thats been nice 

and then here, man! the agents of shield fandom! man! i dont remember a lot of names honestly besides the ones who stayed, and sam. i hope sam’s okay. y’all who stayed, who are still mutuals, the hm....five of us i think? though the one ofy’all i was closest to isnt around as often X[ but still. im happy y’all are here 

some of y’all that have been around long enoguh will know i was best friends with kacie for a while. from....i think that was my brief stint in the dan and phil fandom. she. well. she’s okay, the last i heard of her. but my overtalking screwed that up i think. my last message from her, a few years later, was amicable at least. i still feel awful about that if i think on it too hard

i think i only picked up ronan from the maze runner, at least, that i talk to, yeah, right, there’s two others that are still about but i dont think we’ve ever held a convo X] 

and u current peeps! from mario, star wars and.....im not quite sure where for some of you! i love u all! especially y’all that have been around forever, just, liking each others posts every now and again., i dont know how many people you all follow, but i follow less than a 100. i might only be a blip on your radar, but i like seeing y’all, genuinely. thank you for being in my orbit. i hope i’m a comforting or at least. nice reliable presence in yours, for as long as we all stick around.  

#and i just. i could go on!!! i could!!! so many peopek from school i knew even if just a tony bit #peopel in my classes whos last names are starting to escape me but the firsts are still there! #the people who's names are all but gone #but the faces are there #i just....god #where you make friends and go through school you meet so many people #so many!!!! #and then online friends and communities just expands on that exponentially!!! #so many people!!! #so many people live inside me!!! #and im a bit in love with a franction of them! just from the memories and nostalgia! #[insert quirrel voice here] all tragedy erased...i see only wonders #well. mostly gfkjdhndhjkfhdf #luke rambles #a BIG BOY RAMBLE TODAY MAN #i just. #this was on my mind all last night when i was trying to sleep #i am a little afraid of losing close communities im in now im not gonna life #*lie #but im hoping i can keep close with people from each for the long haul #becuase like. im not leaving tumblr until this palce suhts down dkjgnkgsgd #same with discord #with deviantart

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Some Dylan and Soup - Part 5 - The love of soup

Part 1 is here folks. / Part 2 is here folks. / And part 3 here! /  Here’s part 4!

Summary: Facing the consequences of the kiss, I finally talk to Dylan. Will soup be able to save me? 

A/n: After months. Finally. This is it. @mf-despair-queen series with Dylan and soup. Last part. I hope you didn’t forget about this hihi. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1638

Three days. It’d been three days since I had taken my courage and kissed the man I loved. No, it wasn’t that. It’d been three days since I finally accepted my feelings for him, and that I had shown him... physically. I didn’t know what went through my head when I decided to kiss Dylan with an unexpected intuition and unequivocal love.

Madness, maybe. I had to admit, I was a little crazy about him. But not in the drastic sense. It must have been years of loving him in the depths of my heart without ever allowing love to come out. So when I finally realised the truth, it all came out at the same time in an explosion of confetti and affection. In any case, I didn’t know if I had done well. If I regretted my gesture, or would do the same if I could go back in time at that precise moment.

So many unanswered questions.

Three days later, and no news from Dylan. It's like he never existed. If it wasn’t the many photos of us in my phone or the more than 7 years of strong friendship with flaws – all friends have some, exactly like couples-  I would have had really believed Dylan O’Brien was only an unknown actor. However, nothing previously had justified three days of total ignorance.

And it depressed me terribly.

Three days later and I was still in the same pajamas watching the same TV show in the same sofa while eating the same thing. Soup. My soup diet was obviously not acceptable as a meal for breakfast, lunch and dinner, so I had to take something else with it. Yes, three days off is good for relaxing, but I didn’t put my nose out. I only got up from the couch to go to the bathroom, to eat, to shower or to go to sleep. The outside world seemed so far away when the protective bubble of my fandoms protected me.

So when knocks were heard at my door, I immediately started to panic. Jumping on my feet, my blanket fell to the ground, and I stomped in trying to get to the front door as quick as possible. And I crashed to the ground like a vulgar potato. Annihilated, I remained motionless for a moment, waiting for the sounds, waiting for them to knock again.

Knock Knock knock

There was someone there. Part of me was hoping it was Dylan, that he came to tell me he had time to think about what happened, and that his feelings were the same. Another part of me didn’t want it to be him. Because, whatever he would say to me, I wasn’t ready to hear it. I may have ruined our friendship forever. Just the way everything had ended, me running away from my own home after the kiss, him doing nothing to stop me. And when I came back home, more ashamed than ever, he was gone. I didn’t try to call him to explain, I just couldn’t without my heart beating wildly in my chest. He didn’t call either.

Pathetic.

Knock Knock Knock Knock

Getting up slowly, I stared silently at my door, cursing his invention. If only it were transparent, I could know who was on the other side and stop stressing! But no, I had to get up, walk, and look through the little hole. So much effort for so little. Sighing, I got on my feet and stalked towards my enemy, aka the door. My footsteps made no sound on the floor, and for a moment I thought I was a real ninja.

It was only in front of it that I noticed the silence. No more knocks, no voice, nothing. Intrigued, I put my eye against the hole and looked, but saw no one, only the empty and dirty hallway. I opened the door slowly, the creaking sound making me wince.

There was no one.

I was about to close the door when something white caught my attention, a piece of paper taped to the wood. A letter, which bore my name. I removed it and went back inside, put my back against the closed door and let me slide to the ground. I could recognize it from a thousand. With his fast curves, the special way of writing the M ... it was Dylan's handwriting. He was the one who knocked. My heart pounded as I continued to stared at the paper, indecisive, hesitating to look at what was written. The lump in my throat made my saliva hard to swallow when I tried, and I opened the letter.

"I have to see you. Join me at the cafe at the corner of the street. I'll be waiting for you all night."

The panic came over me as I took a look at the clock on the wall. My heart jerked in my chest. Raising my arm, I sniffed myself and pinched my nose. I didn’t have much time and refused to make him wait. Yes, I was afraid of what he wanted to tell me. But I had to face the facts, living in denial, not wanting to know, was rotting my life. Getting up, I put the letter on the table and went to the bathroom to get ready. While the hot water ran on my head, I began to think at full speed in all possible scenarios. What he wanted to tell me, if it was positive or negative, if he was angry at me, if he still wanted me as a friend ... Million of emotions swept through me, my head was spinning, my belly writhed with anguish. Fearing I was taking too long, I cut the water and got out of the shower. Once dried, I dressed quickly, grabbed my keys, and left my apartment.

It was cool outside, and the wind against my skin gave me goosebumps. I shivered, bringing my arms against my body. In a hurry, I didn’t take the time to dry my hair that was now soaking my shirt. Apprehension and nervousness was all that went through my body right now. And when the coffee sign appeared before me, everything turned into fear. But it was when I saw him, sitting at a table at the back of the cafe, a steaming cup in his hands, that the hurricane of emotion grew worse. I watched him for a moment before getting in, savoring this moment as if it was the last time I saw my best friend.

Taking a deep breath of cold air that did me more harm than good, I pulled out the coffee door. The bell above rang, and the few guests in the establishment looked up at me, including Dylan. When his beautiful golden eyes landed on me, I froze and stopped breathing. Everything seemed to slow down, as if the world had stopped turning just for us. My friend waved at me and I went to his table with my head down, unable to hold his gaze any longer. As I sat on the chair, I took the opportunity to wipe my hands against my pants.

"Do you want to order something?" Dylan broke the silence. His voice brought me back from my thoughts and I raised my head to finally look at him. "Soup, maybe?"

"Dyl ..." I mumbled, my heart hurting more and more every second that passed. "Just tell me what you have to say." Not knowing what to do with my hands, I put them on the table and waited. Silence joined us at the table, and I began to regret everything. Regret the kiss, regret to have come, regret--

"I, I have to tell you something." Looking up, I plunged my eyes into my friend's. He was red-faced and avoided crossing my gaze. Tipping my head to the side, I waited. "Since you kissed me ..." That's it. He was going to talk about the kiss. He was going to tell me that wasn’t a good idea, that we shouldn’t be friends anymore. Closing my eyes, I waited for the words difficult to hear to reach me. "I only think about doing it again."

"... What?" I abruptly opened my eyes and closed my mouth before he could see me drooling in surprise.

"These past weeks together made me realize that I feel something for you. That's more than ..." Seeking his words, Dylan stared at his hands before resuming. “Friends. But I don’t want to lose what we already have. I mean… It’s not like that would change but…” He was so cute looking for the right words to say, I couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on my face. "Say something, Mal..."

I couldn’t believe it. Dylan had feelings for me. He loved our kiss. He wanted to do it again. If I hadn’t been in a public place, I think I would have cried. Or I would have swept everything that was on the table and kissed Dylan until I ran out of breath.

"I don’t know what to say ..." I bit my lip, unable to put my ideas back in order. Unable to think rationally. Dylan was there, in front of me, so close. The heat also rose in my face. "My house?" I proposed. The confidence used in this simple sentence succeeded in capsizing my whole heart. I really said that? The look Dylan gave me made my situation worse. Lust. Envy. Desire. I had to be redder than a bowl of tomato soup.

It was like a dream. No, better than a dream. We went back home. I'll let you guess what happened next. A mix of cuddles, kisses, soup ... and very adult stuff. But that's a story for another time!

#some dylan and soup #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien series #dylan o'brien fanfiction #dylan x reader #dylan o'brien x reader series #imagine dylan o'brien #series dylan o'brien #some dylan and soup series #some dylan and soup fanfiction

[sexysneeze]

Liv and Dylan - First Date

Olivia wasn't one to get nervous before dates. Typically she knew her date well and didn't put much pressure on a first date. This was different though. Today she was meeting Dylan, a boy she had matched with on tinder. She felt silly following through with it but she also couldn't shake the crush she had formed. Dylan was an engineer and seemed to be a total dork, just her type. As she stood in front of the mirror she clipped her curly hair back and gave herself a smile. If she told herself she was confident she could be confident. She looked herself up and down one more time before turning the light off and heading for her car.

Olivia pulled up in front of an apartment building near NC States campus. She was about to text Dylan that she had arrived when she saw someone waving to her out of the corner of her eye. She looked up and saw a handsome young man standing on the side walk. She had only ever seen a few pictures of him but she was pretty sure it was Dylan waving at her. She smiled and took a deep breath before turning her car off and climbing out.

"Hey Liv, it's nice to finally meet you!" Dylan said as Liv walked up.

"Hey, nice to meet you too." Liv said with a smile.

The two stood for a moment awkwardly, not really sure what to do next.

"So, I was thinking we could go to this coffee shop that's supposed to have really good churros." Liv said, trying to break the tension.

Dylan visibly relaxed, "That sounds great, I love coffee!"

Liv unlocked her car and the two climbed in. As Liv pulled away from the curb she turned down the music so the two could talk. Over the course of the date they both relaxed, becoming much more comfortable with each other. While they didn't attend the same universities they found that they could relate to each other on many different levels due to their shared major. By the time they were ready to leave the coffee shop Liv felt like she was talking to someone she had known for years.

Dylan got buckled and then turned to look at Liv, "I've had a really great time today."

Liv smiled and blushed slightly, "I have too, I'm really glad we did this."

"I was wondering if you'd want to maybe keep it going for a bit longer?" Dylan asked cautiously, not wanting to be over eager.

"I'd love to." Liv responded, watching as Dylan let out a breath, "What do you want to do?"

"Ya know, I've been living in Raleigh for two years for school but I've never been to the botanical garden."

Liv laughed, "Ya know, I've been living in Raleigh for twenty years and I've never been to the botanical garden."

"Well looks like we are both incredibly overdue for some botanical garden exploring!"

"It appears so. Let's go!"

With that Liv started up the car again and they were on their way.

The two had been walking through the gardens for no more than five minutes when Dylan started sniffling. He was 99% sure he had taken his allergy meds that morning but his nose begged to differ. Olivia was doing her best to pretend to not notice his condition. The two continued into the expansive gardens, chatting about their summers. The further in they moved the more obvious it was becoming that Dylan was not doing well. She felt bad, he was clearly suffering but was too embarrassed to say anything. She decided to try and find some privacy for the two of them before the situation grew out of hand. As she looked around she spotted a covered seat in the distance.

Doing her best to be nonchalant Liv spoke, "Hey, that's a pretty pond over there. Do you want to go take a look?" She pointed off to near the cushion where a small pond was in front of a large field.

Dylan looked up with watery eyes, "Sure, let's go check it out."

The two made their way down a path and approached the pond. They stood looking around for a minute before Dylan tried to speak, "This uh-heh this is very nice."

Olivia blushed and nodded, "Do you want to sit down for a minute?" She gestured to the seat behind them. Dylan turned to look at the cushion, noticing that there was a large canopy that would block whoever was sitting inside from the walking trails. Relieved he agreed and sat down, scooting as far into the enclosed area as he could. Liv followed suit and the two sat in silence for a moment.

Dylan sniffed, trying to keep his nose from running as the tickle grew. He tried not to think about the sneezes that were bound to come. When his breath hitched her tried to hide it from Olivia. Then he realized he had another growing problem he needed to hide. He carefully drew his knees up  to his chest to hide his growing member.

Olivia stared forward, out of the canopy across a field of flowers, trying to pretend she couldn't hear Dylan's breath hitching. Every few seconds he would sniff and quietly gasp, his breath stuttering as he tried to let the air back out quietly.

Finally Dylan couldn't take it anymore. He knew he would sneeze soon and he had become painfully hard. He couldn't stop himself from needing to announce his impending sneezes, "I'm s-sorry, I uh-hih I huh I need to sn-sneeze heh really bad-badly."

Olivia barely stopped herself from gasping, she breathed in slow and let out a a stuttering breath. " You don't need to apologize." She said. "Just let them out." She added, praying that he would. Her entire body was on fire and she could feel a warm blush spreading across her cheeks.

Dylan took in a huge breath and pulled his arm up to cover his face, he stayed frozen for a moment. Then he let his breath out slowly pulling his arm away just to yank it back up a second later. "Hehtch! Tch! Tch!"

Olivia began to bless him when he buried himself into his elbow again, letting out another string of desperate sneezes. Olivia looked on the whole time, her breath caught in her throat. When he finally stopped sneezing she had to carefully let her breath out, keeping herself steady as her head swam.

Dylan closed his eyes and quietly let a moan out into his elbow, pressing his legs together to put some pressure on his throbbing dick. He opened his eyes to look up at Olivia to see if she was completely disgusted with him. Instead he saw a girl that in any other instance he would be sure was ready to cum.

When Olivia noticed Dylan's eyes on her she quickly tried to straighten herself out, mumbling a blessing. She glanced up to meet his eyes as he stared at her intently. Her face was on fire, she was sure Dylan had figured her out. She was trying to come up with some sort of explanation for the fire in her cheeks when Dylan spoke.

"Uhmm, Olivia?" He began cautiously. He had never met anyone else with his fetish and was sure he was mistaken in assuming she was as turned on as he was at the moment.

"Yes?" She asked, hoping to God he wasn't going to ask her why she was being so weird.

"Have you ever heard of 'SFF' before?" He asked, he figured if she didn't know what he was talking about he could just lie and say he had seen the acronym before and was curious. Instead Olivia's head shot up and she stared at him with wide eyes. She would only react that way if she knew what the letters stood for.

Olivia was in shock. She'd had this fetish her whole life, known about it for almost eight years and she had never heard of someone finding someone else in real life with the fetish. People from the forum met up occasionally but never had it happened organically. There was no way this could be real, no way he shared this with her.

Before Olivia could respond Dylan took in a deep breath and let out a surprise sneeze. He hadn't felt it coming and didn't have the time to turn away from her. Instead it sprayed out, hitting her chest and arm. The mist settled on her skin as she let out an involuntary moan. Dylan brought his hand up to catch the next three sneezes that rocked his frame. When he was finished he pinched his nose, trying to clean himself up. Olivia realized she could no longer hide how she had been feeling.

"Bless you... I guess that answers your question." She said, sitting up straighter to try and feign confidence.

Dylan looked at her for a moment, sure now that he had finally found someone he could truly be himself with. He decided he had to make a move, he let his legs fall and leaned closer to her. He reached out with one hand and cupped her cheek, looking into her eyes before leaning down to kiss her. Olivia responded, meeting his lips with pressure, deepening the kiss. It only lasted for a few moments before Dylan quickly pulled away, wrenching his body to the side to let out three harsh sneezes. When he looked back at Olivia she was staring at him in awe.

"Next time, don't turn away." She said before bringing him back in for a kiss. Dylan's hands found Olivia's hips as her hands cupped his face, sliding into his hair. The two pulled each other closer, trying to find as much contact as possible. The next time Dylan had to pull away he buried his face in her neck, soaking her skin with his sneezes. Olivia tugged his hair, moaning as she felt the sneezes all through her body.

When he pulled back to look at her she swallowed and swung her leg over his, straddling him. They both groaned as their bodies fit together, causing friction where they so desperately craved it. Dylan drew Olivia back into the kiss as she ground her hips down onto him. He bit her lip, scratching up her back. The two continued to kiss, their bodies falling into a rhythm.

Dylan drew back again, looking up as his breath hitched. His chest heaved with every breath he took in, half relaxing as he let it back out. Olivia watched on as this happened four or five times , it was clear the sneeze was stuck. She caught his eye and held up her pinkie, silently asking for permission. He nodded to her, squeezing her hips as he thrust up against her. Olivia raised her hands, gently cupping the back of his head with one as the other gently stroked his nose. She used her index finger to run down the length of his nose, gently circling his right nostril. She leaned forward, licking up his septum. Then she pulled back and carefully inserted her pinkie into his right nostril. First, circling around the outside and then placing the back of her nail against the top, inside wall. She gently drug her finger down, lightly scratching at the wall of his nose. As she pulled her hand away she looked on, enjoying the havoc she had just created for him. One last time, she leaned forward, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose before he fell helpless to the sneezes.

Olivia ran her fingers around his neck, digging her nails into his back as he began his fit. Dylan squeezed Olivia's hips tightly, pulling her down on him as his sneezes thrust his hips forward. The first one he let loose hit Olivia square in the face with a powerful spray. They then sprayed out across her chest, arms and face as his head bobbed up and down with each sneeze. "Hetchoo! Hi-ketch! Hesh!" Each one had it's own unique sound and each one was felt through both Olivia and Dylan's bodies. After seven or so sneezes Olivia could not hold back, she drug her nails in deep and bit into Dylan's neck, trying not to cry out as she came. Dylan felt Olivia's grinding intensify as she came, her hips pushing down hard, moving in circles against him. He groaned as he thrust up into her losing it. Each sneeze seemed to send another jolt through his already sensitive dick.

The two came down from their orgasms, leaning against each other in exhaustion. Dylan continued to let occasional sneezes out against Olivia's back. She drew her nails up and down his spine as she let out shuttering breaths trying to steady herself. After several long moments she finally pulled back.

She looked at him and smiled as she cupped his cheek, "That was a hell of a first date." she said and kissed him.  

He grinned and responded, "Eh, I think I've had better." He laughed as she groaned and shoved him, swinging herself off of his lap.

Olivia reached over to her purse, pulling out several tissues, passing a few to Dylan. The two quietly cleaned themselves up, realizing that they had made quite a mess. When they were finished they gathered their things and began the walk back to the car. As they walked they both laughed to themselves, smiling at what had just occurred. Olivia reached out and took Dylan's hand in hers. He squeezed her hand and then looked over at her.

"Hey Olivia, I know this is a first date and all...and it might be moving a little fast. But I'd love to be able to call you my girlfriend."

Olivia smirked, "Keep that up and you can call me whatever you want."

#sneeze #sickfic

[dobseventeen]

A New Beginning (Part 6)

A/N: I’m not sure why, but I really love this chapter? No specific reason, I just really enjoy it. Shoutout to the various anon’s who encouraged me to get this done tonight, you da real MVP’s. ALSO HUGE SHOUTOUT TO @veronicarapp because she is literally the inspiration for the reader’s friend “Sammy” that is introduced in this chapter. Like she is 100% Sammy. She’s also my tumblr bff, so it just makes sense, right? LOVE YOU BITCH. Anyways, I hope you guys like this chapter and are overall liking the direction I’m taking the story. Feedback is always appreciated!

Word Count: 5,246

Warnings: None really? (Cussing, kissing, fluff)

Summary: Y/N finally tells someone about her time spent with Dylan before they spend yet another evening together in LA. 

Previous Chapter: Part 5

Next Chapter: Part 7

You awoke to the sound of your phone ringing. You groggily lifted your head and looked around the room, trying to get your bearings. How long was I asleep? You were relieved when you saw that the sun was still shinning brightly through your hotel window. Your phone kept blaring its obnoxious ringtone, demanding that you answer it. You reached over to grab it from the bedside table, hoping you’d see Dylan’s name on the screen. 

Incoming call from: Sammy 👯

You smiled at the phone when you saw your best friend’s name. You and Sammy met your freshman year of college, randomly, while walking to the same party. To make a long story short, by the end of the night you were both shoving shots down each others throats and claiming that you’d be in one another’s weddings, even though you had only known one another for four hours at that point. You couldn’t have been more right though. Sammy had been there for you through everything; the little fights you had with your ex, the nights you took down way too much tequila, your break up, and your decision to finally move out west. She was your rock through and through, and you were certain you wouldn’t be where you were today without her spunky-ass. 

“Sammy! Hi!” you exclaimed into the phone.

“What’s up, bitch? You wanna tell me why I haven’t heard from you since you landed in Cali?!” she playfully barked at you.

Before you could give her an explanation, she continued, “Let me guess, you met some dreamy, LA guy who has been taking up all your time during the day, and then ramming you into his headboard at night?” 

You couldn’t help but let your mouth fall agape at her almost perfect assumption. Leave it to her to be able to know what you were doing without sharing one word with her. 

“Y/N/N? You there?” she asked.

“Yeah sorry, I, uhhh, I’m-” you stuttered. 

“OH MY FUCKING GOSH YOU MET A GUY.” she practically yelled into the phone. 

Your face grew red instantly, making you thankful that she was on the other side of the country and couldn’t call you out on it. 

“Okay, yeah, I may have met a guy the first night I got here...” you spoke coolly, trying to play it off the best you could.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?! What the fuck?!” she was now more excited than anything, and you felt bad for your downstairs apartment neighbors back home who were inevitably hearing everything she was screaming into the phone. 

“I’m sorry, Sam! I didn’t keep it quiet intentionally, I’ve just been with him... well, a lot.” you said hesitantly, knowing you were about to get the third degree. 

“Oh my fuck, okay, okay. Before I start prying all of that out of you, how did your interview go? Did you bomb it so you can stay here on the East coast with me?” she joked. 

You chuckled, “Nope, I landed it! I got the fucking job!” you were now the one screaming into the phone.

“That is so awesome, Y/N!!! I’m so happy for you, even though that means you’re leaving me.” she fake pouted. 

“You know you’ll be able to come visit whenever you want, and I’ll be home all the time to see everyone.” you reassured her.  

“I know, I know. Now, on to more important things; who the fuck have you been spending all your time with?!” she playfully shot at you.

“Okay, Sam, I’m going to need you to stay calm and not freak out, okay? Because if you freak out, then I’ll freak out, and I can’t afford to do that when I’m about to hangout with him again in a few hours.” you said in an authoritative tone. 

“Oh my god, is it a celebrity? HAVE YOU BEEN WINED AND DINED BY A CELEBRITY? Holy fuck!” she exclaimed.

“SAM! Chill out, okay? I’m not going to tell you until you’re calm.” you laughed at her.

You heard her take a deep, audible breath, “Okay, okay, I’m calm.”

You were now the one taking in a huge breath, since you hadn’t told anyone about your time with Dylan yet. This was about to make it real.

“Sammy... It’s Dylan O’Brien.” you said blankly, trying to fight the smile that made its way onto your face at the mention of his name aloud. 

The line was quiet. 

“Sammy, are you ther-” you were interrupted.

“OH. MY. GOD. Are you fucking serious right now? You can’t be serious? Dylan fucking O’Brien? The Maze Runner? The American Assassin? STILES STILINSKI?” she yelled into the phone, her voice laced with shock. 

“Yes, I am so serious. He’s fucking amazing, Sam. I’m not sure how I got so damn lucky, but I’ve been with him everyday since I got here.” you explained, failing to hide the giddiness in your voice. 

“TELL ME EVERYTHING.” she deadpanned back to you. 

At the same time, you heard a ding on the line, signalling a new text message. You removed the phone from your ear to look at the screen and saw Dylan’s name. 

“Y/N? Don’t you dare leave me hanging like this.” she warned.

“Sorry, I got a text, Sam, look ca-” you were interrupted again.

“IS IT FROM HIM?” she shouted. 

“Yes, it’s from Dylan. Look, Sammy, I promise to fill you in on all of the details later, but I have to start getting ready for tonight.” you said clearly, hoping she’d understand.

“Okay, okay, Y/N/N. I get it. You go be with an incredibly sexy movie star, while I sit here in our apartment watching Friends for the millionth time. But, Y/N, promise me you’ll be careful? The last thing you need is another prick to come in your life and mess it all up, I don’t care if he’s some big celebrity.” she said with an assertive tone. 

“I promise, Sam. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Love ya bitch.” you said in a sweet voice. 

“Love you too, homie!” she fired back.

Before you could take time to reflect on how much you appreciated your best friend for looking out for your well being, your phone dinged again with another text. 

Dylan O’Brien: “Hi Y/N! 😘 Finally done with my meetings for the day.”

Dylan O’Brien: “Hope you’re prepared for the most basic date of your life tonight. I really pulled out all the stops for this one!!!”

You chucked at your phone. You weren’t sure what he meant, but you were excited to find out. He could literally take you on a walk through Burbank and you’d be in heaven. You felt a strong surge of confidence as you typed your reply. 

Y/N: “Hey, Dyl. I can’t wait to see what you’ve got up your sleeves for tonight, you never fail to surprise me! How did your meetings go, babe?”

You instantly threw your phone onto the bed, cursing yourself for calling him “babe”. What the fuck is wrong with you? Before your anxiety could consume you, you phone dinged from under the comforter. You breathed a sigh of relief when you read his response, a warm feeling replacing the icy cold anxiousness that was previously coursing through you. 

Dylan O’Brien: “You’ll like what I have planned. Well, at least I think you will. I’ve been paying close attention to you over the last few days, babe. My meetings actually went great for once, making me that much more excited to come pick your cute ass up 😉”

You were still slightly in disbelief that you were already at this level with someone you had met only three days prior, regardless if it was Dylan O’Brien. Pet names never really became a thing until at least a week after knowing the guy. Sex definitely didn’t come along until at least the third date. You knew Dylan wasn’t a bad guy, hell he seemed like a great guy so far, and all you wanted to do was stay in this state of bliss with him forever, but you knew you needed to be smart about this. You didn’t regret any of the things that had happened thus far, but you needed to remind yourself to not get too caught up in it all. The last thing you needed to deal with was another broken heart, especially in a city that you couldn’t even officially call home yet.

Y/N: “Well, what are you waiting for, O’Brien? Me and my cute ass are waiting on ya 😉”

Dylan O’Brien: “How about I come by around 6 to pick you up?”

Y/N: “Sounds good, Dyl. See you soon 😘”

You hadn’t even checked the time since you woke up from your nap. You figured it was still early afternoon, 3 pm at the latest. Wrong. You did a triple take when you looked down at your watch. 

“5:11 PM?! WHAT THE FUCK!!” you said aloud.

You immediately went to the shower, completely pissed that you let yourself sleep that late. What the fuck Y/N? Now you’re going to look like shit for your date. Smooth. He’s never going to take you out again because you chose to sleep your life away! You continued ranting to yourself as you quickly showered and pulled yourself together. By the time the clock read 5:45 PM, you had already dried and styled your hair into a cute, low ponytail, lathered lotion across basically your whole body, and finished a majority of your makeup. All that was left was to pick your outfit and apply some lipstick. You were eternally grateful that he told you to dress comfy casual, because you were running out of going-out outfits that you packed for your week-long trip. You settled on a pair of denim shorts, clad with fashionable holes, a simple black tank top whose straps criss-crossed in the back, and your go-to pair of grey low-top converse. As you were applying a thin layer of pink lip gloss, you heard a knock at your door. A smile instantly spread across your face when you saw Dylan standing on the other side. 

“Hey, Dyl.” you said bashfully, still getting used to his captivating presence. 

“Hey, gorgeous. You ready to go?” he said with a wink as he extended his hand out to you. 

“Yepp, let’s see what you have in store for me tonight, O’Brien.” you teased as you gave his hand a small squeeze, him leading you down the hallway. 

You were driving down one of the main strips through LA, all the windows down in Dylan’s Range Rover, hand in hand with him, as you were both all but screaming the lyrics to “I Like Me Better” by Lauv. The sun was just beginning to set in the sky, casting a beautiful orange hue over the city. You began thinking to yourself about how sincerely happy you were in the moment. Not a care in the world, just you and Dylan, hand in hand under the sunset, singing so obnoxiously you could’ve laughed about it for hours. This must be what it feels like to be purely and genuinely happy. 

You leaned up to turn down the radio, Dylan instantly jerking his head in your direction. 

“What do you think you’re doing?! The best part was coming up!” he playfully barked at you. 

“Sorry, Dyl! I promise we can listen to it again. But I need a hint as to where we are going, the excitement is killing me, dude!” you exclaimed, leaning your head sideways towards him, your Ray-Bans covering your curious eyes. 

“Trust me, where we’re going isn’t that exciting at all, but I know you’ll like it. So, sit back and sing with me until we get there!” he said as he leaned forward and turned the radio back up. He flashed you a huge smile before he began his next Grammy-worthy performance for you. You threw your head back and laughed at his goofy personality, knowing you would’ve sat in his passenger seat forever just hearing him sing to you. 

“Oh my god, are you serious?!” you shouted as he flicked on his right turn signal, preparing to pull into the drive-thru of the one and only, In-N-Out. 

Dylan laughed before diving into his explanation, “Last night you said that you’d be more than happy if an In-N-Out was on top of that cliff and that you didn’t need a five course meal, so I’m taking you up on that.” 

You picked up his hand that was interconnected with yours and brought it to your lips, giving it a delicate kiss. 

“You’re something else, you know that?” you said, your gaze darting between his caramel eyes and his alluring lips. The second the SUV came to a stop, you leaned up and enveloped his lips into a quick but passionate kiss. You both smiled into the kiss as it broke, and looked deeply into one another’s eyes. 

“I know it’s not a typical place to go for a second date, but I promise I have more planned than just fast food hamburgers.” he said sheepishly.

“Dylan, it’s perfect. I love it because you actually listen to me and what I have to say. Like, you actually pay attention to me.” you said in a reassuring tone.

No one had ever listened to you or paid attention to you to the extent that Dylan had. First, he noticed the thing you had for looking at views and landscapes the day he drove you home from lunch, which led to your first real date. You always had an earnest appreciation and curiosity for your surroundings, whether it was a beautiful sunset, or some side street in the middle of LA.  Now, he had listened to something you had casually uttered while you were busy taking in the view of the LA skyline from that cliff for the first time. 

“I don’t understand how anyone could not listen to absolutely everything that leaves your mouth.” he said simply, flashing you a small smile. He seemed that he wanted to say more, but stopped himself. You were both then interrupted by the waitress taking your order. 

Dylan ordered your food and pulled up the drive-thru window. The waitress let out a small scream because she instantly noticed Dylan. Without hesitation, he reached over and reconnected his hand with yours that was resting on the center console, silently claiming you as his. The action made your heart flutter, even if it was only directed towards this random In-N-Out employee. 

“OH MY GOD YOU’RE DYLAN O’BRIEN!!!” she shouted as he traced his thumb over your hand. 

“Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you!” he spoke with such pure generosity. It warmed your heart to know that he genuinely cared about his fans. 

“I seriously love you SO much! Could we please take a selfie really quick?” she asked in a gawking tone. 

Dylan let out a small chuckle, “Of course we can!” 

The waitress angled her phone in a way that caught the two of them in the picture, with Dylan slightly leaning out of his window, an adorable smirk plastered across his face. You leaned back in your seat, not wanting to ruin the picture for the young girl. 

“Thank you so so so much, Dylan! I’ll have your food out in one sec!” she spoke nervously, obviously not expecting to meet a movie star at work today. 

“Well aren’t you just so sweet to your fans?” you cooed, having a new admiration for the man next to you. 

He let out a small laugh, “I owe everything to my fans, the least I can do is be nice and take a quick picture. I wish I could do more honestly.” he admitted.

Before you had a chance to reply, he spoke again, “She didn’t get you in the picture did she?”

A small pit in your stomach formed. Did he not want to be seen with me? 

“Uhm, I don’t think so. I leaned back and tried to get out of the way.” you said lowly, averting your gaze from his face to the control panel of the Rover. 

“Okay. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to keep you a secret or whatever, I just don’t want the paparazzi to get a hold of it and drag you into something you aren’t ready for.” he explained reassuringly, noticing your personality shift. 

“I get what you’re saying. Make sense.” was all you could murmur. You weren’t sure how you felt about that aspect of this new “relationship” or fling or whatever you wanted to call it. You totally understood where he was coming from and you appreciated that he wanted to look out for you, but a part of the whole ordeal stung, and you weren’t exactly sure why. Your thoughts moved away from topic once the waitress handed Dylan your food and he began driving away. 

“Now where?” you said, trying to break the awkwardness of the previous conversation. 

“Haven’t you learned by now that I’m just never going to tell you? Everything is a surprise with me, gorgeous.” he said, turning to flash you a toothy smile. 

“Ughhh, you kill me, babe.” you said before realizing the words that had left your mouth. Your eyes instantly got wide and your cheeks turned red. You were completely embarrassed at your lack of filter as you stared straight through the windshield, looking at the passing streetlights. 

Dylan noticed your bashful reaction and placed his hand on the exposed skin of your thigh, “You’re so cute... babe.” ending it with a charming wink. 

You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, thankful that he wasn’t weirded out by your new nickname being said aloud for the first time. Your sense of relief was accompanied by the Rover turning into a small gravel driveway, located about ten minutes from the main road you were just cruising down. You couldn’t tell where the path was leading, which instantly reminded you of the woods from the night before. 

“You sure you’re still not planning to kill me in the middle of the woods, O’Brien?” you said jokingly.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. At least not until I know the PIN to your bank account.” he said as he turned the SUV sharply.

“HAHAHA you’re so funny!” you said obnoxiously, finally taking notice of where you were headed.

About one hundred yards in front of you stood a ticket booth with a huge silver screen located some feet behind it. A drive-in movie, how much more romantic could this guy fucking get? 

“You really are one of a kind, aren’t you?” you said, a delighted grin resting on your face. 

“You make it easy, Y/N. You’re always so excited anytime I do something to surprise you, it makes me want to do cute shit like this for you everyday.” he said sweetly with an honest tone. 

You turned to face him as you rested your head against the head rest, “I’m not worthy of you.” you spoke softly. You were only half serious. Maybe. 

“You’re crazy if you really believe that.” he said, leaning over and giving your forehead a gentle kiss. You brought your hand up to cup his cheek, and as he began to pull away, you leaned up and connected your lips to his. He mirrored your actions and brought both hands up to hold your face as he fell deeper into the kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, seeking an entrance. You turned your head to the side, allowing his tongue to move rhythmically with yours. He tenderly bit on your lower lip, eliciting a breathy moan from you, that was lost in the depths of the kiss. As you both broke apart, you looked deeply into his whiskey eyes that were now gleaming from the moon and stars that covered the sky above you both. You silently thanked the guy who invented the sunroof. 

“Let’s go get our tickets, babe.” he said, winking at you as he stepped out of the car. 

You both walked hand in hand to the ticket booth, arms swinging like you were school children going to recess. You could get used to the feeling of his hand interconnected to yours, giving you a sense of comfort you hadn’t felt in ages. 

“So what are we seeing, Dyl?” you asked, knowing damn well you’d sit through any movie as long as you were by his side. 

“Well, there are two really good drive-in’s around here, each playing a different movie. The other one is uhm... well, it’s playing The Death Cure. And I didn’t want to spend our second date watching me.” he let out with a chuckle. 

You giggled at his shyness, “I totally would’ve been okay watching you on the big screen, but I get why you didn’t want to. I’m seriously happy watching whatever.”

“I’m glad you understand, some people don’t get it. Not only is it kinda weird to watch my own movie on the second date, but it’s also still kinda... hard for me to watch.” he admitted, lowering his head. 

“What do you mean?” you questioned, having no clue what he meant by that. 

“You don’t know what happened?” he was genuinely shocked and relieved that you weren’t aware of his accident. 

“Nope, I have no clue what you’re referring to... but I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk about.” you spoke lightly, not wanting to seem like you were prying. 

“No, no, it’s okay, It honestly nice to know that you didn’t already know about it.” he admitted. 

He continued, “Well, the reason it took The Death Cure three years to come out after The Scorch Trials is because I got banged up pretty bad while filming it.” 

“How bad is pretty bad?” you said, looking at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. 

He pointed to the scar on the right side of his nose, “You see this right here? Long story short, I was doing a stunt on a moving vehicle and it all went wrong. I had to have facial reconstructive surgery. It was a huge mess and it’s taken me a long time to come to terms with it.” he seemed more solemn and withdrawn than you had ever seen him, and the sight broke your heart. 

“Oh, Dylan, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like... You’re such a strong person, not only for being able to overcome that and continue on with the movie, but in general just being able to have a recovered and have such a good grip on it.” you said openly, hoping he’d understand just how serious you were in the moment. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze as you both continued towards the ticketing booth. 

“Thanks, Y/N/N. I really appreciate that. It was tough, but I made it through and I’d like to think I’m doing better now.” he said, giving you a reassuring smile. 

“You’re doing great, Dyl. I don’t know all the details, but you’ve already done so much since then, including American Assassin, finishing the Death Cure, and landing this new role that you’ve been negotiating. You’re amazing, please don’t ever think anything different.” you confessed, meaning every single word. 

Dylan knew in that moment that he needed to keep you around as long as he could. Most people simply react to his accident as “yeah that really sucks, can I get an autograph?” or they will completely downplay the severity of it, making him seem like he’s overreacting. You were one of the few people who genuinely respected his healing process with it and recognized how difficult it was to come back, even if you barely knew any details. 

“Now I’m pretty sure I’m not worthy of you.” he said, looking down at you through his sunglasses appreciatively.

You gave him a light nudge with your hip and a wink, “Whatever you say, O’Brien. By the way, you wanna tell me why you’re still wearing your sunglasses? It’s 100% nighttime now.” 

“Unless you want to share me with any of my fans that might be here, I think it’s best that I leave them on until we get back to the car.” he explained.

“Ahh, makes sense. It’s going to take me awhile to get used to the fact that you’re a celebrity, or whatever.” you said nonchalantly, rolling your eyes jokingly. 

“You’re fucking kidding me.” you exasperated as you read the marquee above the ticket window.

“TOP GUN?! This is one of my favorite movies!” you exclaimed, giving Dylan a bright smile. 

“I had a feeling you were either into 80′s movies or Tom Cruise, so it was an easy choice compared to, well, my movie. ” he said while reaching for his wallet. 

“You know me so well, babe.” you said giving him a wink. You were surprised how much easier the pet name rolled off your tongue this time around. 

At the same time you reached up and gently grabbed his arm, “Dyl, please let me pay for the tickets. You’ve already done so much for me this week.” 

He creased his eyebrows at you, but stepped aside and let you order the tickets. You leaned up on your elbows at the ticket booth window, slightly sticking your butt out and moving it back and fourth slightly, giving Dylan a show. You heard him mutter something behind you. You looked back with a devilish smirk across your lips, he rolled his eyes at you playfully and threw his head back while running his hand through his hair. Mission accomplished. 

You both now sat, cuddled on a blanket beside his car. Your head rested on his chest and his hand traced up and down your back as you watched the classic Tom Cruise movie. You couldn’t help yourself from quoting every other scene. You were slightly worried you were being annoying, until Dylan starting doing it along with you. You both erupted into laughter anytime you’d both say the same phrase at the same time. Both of you were truly in a state of bliss that you never wanted to come out of. 

“You know they’re making a Top Gun 2?” he asked.

“Uhm yes! I’m overly obsessed with this movie, so when I found out there was a sequel in the works, I basically died. They’re taking forever to get it figured it out though.” you said, feigning anger.

“If I tell you something do you swear not to tell anyone else?” he whispered, even though there weren’t any people within thirty feet of you. 

You were instantly filled with curiosity, “Yes, I promise!” 

You were now sitting up, looking down at his perfect face, the moon casting a beautiful glow over his features. 

“Well, my manager may or may not have scheduled me an audition for one of the leads in it.” he said coolly, trying to play it off like he was sly. 

“DYLAN. YOU’RE KIDDING. You better not be messing with me!” you deadpanned. 

He laughed aloud at your intensity over the topic, “I promise I’m not messing with you! It’s still very much in pre-production, but I’m definitely interested. So we will see.” he revealed with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“I’d literally KILL to see you in one of the flight uniforms they wear.” you teased as you returned your head to his chest. 

“Well, some day you just might.” he said giving your shoulders a light squeeze, pulling you closer. 

Before you had the chance to continue the conversation, Dylan’s phone began ringing in his pocket. He quickly reached down to grab it as you retreated from his embrace. He sighed when he read the contact. 

“I’m so sorry but I have to take this, I’ll be right back, okay?” he apologized as he started walking away from you, his hand running through his hair nervously. You waved him off, giving him an understanding nod. Your mind began to wander, coming up with different scenarios that could be playing out in the phone call. 

From the distance you could hear Dylan whisper-shouting into his phone. “No, I’m not okay with that. That is not what we discussed earlier.” 

You didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he was making it hard with the volume he was using, “We agreed to wait two months, I don’t understand what the issue is.” 

The conversation continued for about a minute longer, and the only other thing you heard before he returned was “Okay, well I guess I’ll just have to deal with it and figure something out. Thanks, talk to you tomorrow.”

He seemed visibly more tense when he returned to the blanket, his hand still avidly running through his hair. Your heart sank a little at the sight. You hated seeing him anything less than happy. 

“Is everything okay, Dyl?” you questioned, a hint of nervousness in your voice. 

“Yeah I’m okay, just some work stuff. No big deal, I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” he said, giving you a half-hearted smile. You could tell there was more to the story, but it wasn’t your place to pry, so you let it go. When he sat back down, he put both legs on either side of your body and wrapped his arms around your shoulders and chest, pulling you into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck. You were relieved that he was still wanting to be in the moment with you, regardless of whatever news he just received. He pressed a soft kiss into your hair and you fell further into him, loving the feeling of being wrapped up in his strong arms once again. 

As much worry and annoyance was running through Dylan’s veins from his phone call, all of it seemed to drift away the second you were in his grasp. He was so thankful for you in that moment, even though you had no idea what was happening. You would know soon enough though. 

The ending credits began to play and everyone in the drive-in lot began to pack up. You began to pull away, but your movements were restricted by Dylan’s grip on you. 

He leaned in towards you, “Can we just lay here for a few more minutes?” he whispered. 

“I’d love that.” you said sweetly as you turned and pressed a small kiss into his bicep that was just to the left of you. You weren’t lying either. It felt like everything you had ever wanted or dreamed of existed in this moment with him. Every wish upon a star or birthday candle was for this moment to simply come to fruition. Every stupid boy you’d ever had to deal with before this meant nothing compared to bliss that you were currently enveloped in. All you wanted was to lay there with him all night, feeling his chest rising and falling behind you as he breathed in the smell of your floral shampoo. 

After a few minutes Dylan spoke up, “You ready to get out of here, gorgeous? I want to show you something.” he hummed into you ear. 

“I’d go anywhere with you, Dyl.” you cooed as you pressed a kissed onto his hand. 

He sure hoped you meant that. 

Next Chapter: Part 7

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[troublemakerfiction]

24.

Millz

“Why does it seem like every time everything is going peaceful for me some other shit pops up?” I asked Darnell while I got dressed.

We were in my room while Dyce, Darius and Zaria were in the living room watching TV. Darnell was taking the boys out with her until my opening later, so I could go and see what’s up with this brother situation. I could’ve gotten Cameron to take them since he got uninvited when he tried to come for my parenting skills. It’s petty but I don’t care; he got too disrespectful and I’m not about to clink glasses with this nigga like we’re cool.

Today I was meeting my brother Dylan for the first time and I was nervous as fuck. I’ve been an only child for the last 25 years and now out of the clear blue sky I have two little brothers. It’s like my life can’t be calm for a minute, it’s always some extra shit going on.

“I’m surprised you’re not upset. You hate not knowing something.”

“I know, I thought I would be but after thinking about it I’m good. It’s not like my dad knew and didn’t say anything. I’m just happy they’re boys, I don’t need a sister.”

“Of course not, you love being his only daughter.”

“Exactly; and I’m not ashamed to admit it either.” I know it sounds childish as fuck but I really have no desire to have a sister. I love being my father’s only daughter, I don’t need another me walking around somewhere.

“That’s a damn shame. So where are you meeting him at?”

“The waterfront; I was going to give him my address so he could come here but I don’t know him like that so that has to wait. We need to work towards that.”

“At least you know you’re not the only one with twins.”

“Right, now I’m wondering where that gene came from.”

“I think grandma’s father was a twin. I heard my dad say it before.”

“Well that would explain it because I was shocked as shit when I found out I was having twins. I have twin boys, now I have twin brothers. That shit is weird.”

“So if everything works out fine what are you going to do?”

“I need to find out what Dominic is locked up for. He’s 19; he shouldn’t be in jail and on Rikers Island at that? Nah I’m not feelin’ that idea. I know grandma got a lawyer for him but the muthafucka is obviously bullshit so I’m going to put my lawyer on it and try to get him out. I’ll be damned if my brother is on some Kailef Browder shit.”

I don’t know much about prisons but I’ve heard real life horror stories about Rikers Island and I don’t want my brother there. I don’t want him in jail period but Rikers is probably one of the worse places he could be. I don’t want him being fucked with and dealing so much bullshit that he feels like he has no other option but killing himself.

“Well you know we got you, and I got the boys so don’t worry about it. I’ll drop them off at my mother’s house later then I can go get ready for your opening. You look cute, if he wasn’t your brother the little nigga would’ve probably hit on you.”

“Shut up Darnell,” I looked in the mirror at my outfit and smiled at my reflection. I was cute, not showing much, keeping it simple. I was meeting my brother, not going on a date so I had to dress like I had some sense.

I grabbed my purse, sunglasses and keys then walked out to the living room. “Darius, Dyce, y’all better be good okay.” I told them before kissing their foreheads. I looked at Zaria and ran my hands through her curls. “You too little Mexico.”

“Millz, don’t make me hurt you. Stop calling my daughter a damn Mexican.” Darnell said as she came in the living room behind me.

“What? She looks Spanish, I’m just saying.”

“She looks like me.”

“You say that like you don’t look like a Mexican too.” I laughed at her.

Darnell gets pissed off if you joke about her being some sort of Spanish.  She says it’s annoying that she constantly has to defend her blackness. I could understand why it’s annoying but it’s funny because she really does look Hispanic. I know I’m not dark brown my damn self but you can see my ass is black. Darnell looks like she was born somewhere English is the second language.

“I’m going to fuck you up, shut up.” She punched my arm.

“Alright I’m playing with you damn, heavy handed ass,”

We all left my apartment and she took the kids with her while I headed to the waterfront. Being that it was only a few blocks away from my house I decided to walk. When I got to the waterfront which is pretty much a boardwalk, I took a seat on an empty bitch that was closest to the Hilton hotel.

“Millz?” Hearing my name I turned around and saw the same boy from the picture Vick showed me standing there. I got up and faced him smiling.

“Hi, Dylan right?”

“Yeah,” He smiled back. For a minute we just stood there looking at each other. It was awkward as shit, but I figured it would be.

“Are you hungry?”

“I mean, I could eat.”

“Alright come on, we’re going to the Hilton for lunch. My treat, we have a lot to talk about and I need a damn drink to handle this shit.”

I grabbed my purse off the bench and we walked over to the hotel going up to the lounge area. We found an empty table next to the window that showed the best view of the New York City Skyline.

A waiter came over and gave us a menu then walked away. I looked through it for a minute then closed it looking straight Dylan. He must’ve felt my eyes on him because he looked up from his menu.

“What? Is something on my face?”

“No, I’m just looking at you. Did you know about me before now?”

He sat his menu on his lap then looked at me. “Yeah we knew, we’ve always known we had a sister.”

“I figured that. Alright, you have to understand something; I thought I was an only child up until two days. If I had known about you, trust me I would’ve been around. Why didn’t your mother bring you around? I’m a little confused as to how she told you about a sister but never reached out to our father.”

“I don’t know, she hasn’t really explained that to me. She brought us up here when we were nine years old so we could finally meet him. Before that she always told us about him, about how he was a good man he was just always busy and working. We were excited to finally meet him, and we get up here and she finds out from her cousin that he was dead.”

“Damn,” I shook my head. “I know that had to hurt,”

“It did; you get so excited about meeting this man that you never met but for some reason you love and respect him. He was like a God to us and we had never met him but our mother built him up so much that we grew to love him. It’s fucked up we never met him, that type of shit fucks with you.”

I let out a light chuckle because I was mind blown. The same way he talked about my father is the same way I felt about him.  My father was the most important part of my life, the closest person to me. It’s crazy that he could feel that way about him even though they’ve never met. I need to have a conversation with his mother because I have some questions.

The waitress came over interrupting my thoughts ready to take our order. We both told her what we wanted and she walked away with a smile.

“What is Dominic locked up for?” I asked Dylan. I wanted to know what type of person we’re dealing with here.

“They’re trying to pin a murder on him, but he’s innocent. He was with me the day it happened, I’m trying to get the courts to understand that but they keep trying to say a different story. They’re talking about it’s a witness saying they saw him there. We don’t even know who it is.”

“Alright when is his next court date?”

“They keep pushing it back.”

“Alright so I’m going to get my lawyer on it. I don’t know who grandma got y’all but they’re bullshit because this taking too god damn long. Do you have proof he was with you that night?”

“Yeah we went to the movies and out to eat with his baby mother and my girlfriend.”

“He has a baby mother? How old is his baby?”

“Armani just turned four years old and Amaya is three.”

“His kids are the same age as mine. Y’all are six years younger than me, what the hell is wrong with y’all?”

“Don’t say y’all, I don’t have kids.” He laughed.

“Good, don’t have none for a couple of years. Tell me something though; what is Dominic into that would even put him in the position to catch a murder charge?”

“I guess you can say the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.” He said.

I knew exactly what he meant; Dominic had his little ass out there selling drugs. I wish I could say I was surprised but I’m not.

“For how long?”

“Since we were 13, he hooked up with some old nigga named Manolo.”

“Manolo? The fuck type of name is Manolo?”

“A corny one that’s what; but yeah he hooked up with that nigga. Even before that he was acting out and it started after we found out about our father’s murder. He just did a complete 180 and became a different person. It started with him fucking up in school. Then he started staying out late and shit. My mother tried to get him under control but it didn’t work.”

“How is his temper?”

“Fucked up, you look at that nigga wrong and he’s swinging on you.”

“Damn, he’s his father’s son and definitely my brother.” I shook my head. It seemed to me like Dominic was just like my father too. “What about you, what are you up to?”

“I play basketball for Rutgers.”

“Really? That’s good, are you any good?”

“Good enough to get a full scholarship.”

“You’re on a full scholarship? Wow, that’s what’s up. I want to know the dates to every game when your season starts. I mean, that’s if you want me there.”

“Yeah I definitely want you to come.”

“So if you have a full scholarship that goes beyond you just being good at basketball. That means you keep your grades up too. How is that you stayed in school and stayed on the right track but he went in another direction?”

“We needed money and he felt like it was his responsibility to get it. Staying in school wasn’t just because of me; he wouldn’t let me do what he did. I tried to get him to let me do it too, I felt like I could have his back. Nobody is going to watch out for him like I would so I wanted to be there but he wouldn’t let me. My mother worked all the time and she did her best but when you have two boys that’s growing out of sneakers and clothes every few months and bills to pay that shit is hard to maintain.”

“So he helped take care of y’all?”

“Yeah, then Amari was born and he started going harder. It was like he had tunnel vision, his eyes were on the money and getting as much of it as he could. I don’t know what he was doing exactly, but I know that he has at least two hundred grand put away.”

“So why did you need help getting a lawyer for him?”

“We don’t know where it is; only he does and he doesn’t want us using it for him.”

“Do you go to visit him?”

“No, he calls me and we talk when we can but I don’t have the transportation to get there.”

“Well I want to visit him, so you’re coming with me when I go. Also, I need to speak to your mother because I have some questions.”

“I’ll let her know,”

“So where is this girlfriend of yours and his baby mother what’s her story?”

“They’ve been together since freshmen year of high school. She and the kids live with my mother.”

“Why?”

“When he got locked up, there was no money coming in so no rent was being paid. She had to move out so she moved in with my mother.”

“Hmm, okay.”

I had my own personal thoughts about that and they weren’t good ones so I kept my mouth shut. I don’t want to judge the girl but if your kids are three and four years old, that’s old enough to be in school which means you have time to go get a damn job. Something tells me she’s not the brightest crayon in the box.

“My girlfriend goes to school with me, she’s plays basketball too.”

“Well I want to meet everybody including my nieces and that will be happening soon. I need you to tell your mother that too.”

“I will. Have you read the letter Dom had sent for you?”

“No, I wanted to meet you first. I’ll read it when I get home.”

“You need to, it’s very important that you do.”

“Okay,”

We continued to talk about his life and how they grew up while we ate lunch. By the time we were done we exchanged phone numbers and went our separate ways. I told him I could just walk to get my car and drop him off where he needed to go but he said he was fine so I went home.

As soon as I got in the house I got Dominic’s letter and opened it. I took a deep breath and unfolded the paper then began to read it.

What’s good Millz, I know this shit is random because you didn’t know about us. My mother wanted to tell y’all about us for the longest time but she didn’t want to disrupt anything. Then when we found out our father was dead she knew you would probably be going through hell so she didn’t want to come out of nowhere presenting two brothers on you. Now that I look back on it I think she should’ve just bit the bullet and told everybody the truth. Maybe shit would’ve been different.

I guess at this point it’s no secret that I’m locked up. Let me start by saying I am muthafuckin innocent. I’m not a saint but I didn’t commit a damn murder and I’m getting out of here so I can continue to take care of my family.  I don’t know if you met Dylan yet or not but if you have I’m sure he gave you the rundown about me.

Finding out about our father’s murder fucked me up. I spent my whole life waiting and anticipating the day I could finally meet my father and when I was about to I get told he was murdered. That shit pissed me the fuck off. I was angry for a long ass time and I acted out because of it. Part of acting out got me introduced to the wrong niggas and I ended up getting into the streets. I have kids to provide for so I’m not apologizing about shit but I just need you to understand that shit. I’m not a fucked up person but I’ve been through some fucked up shit.

That’s not the point of this letter though. I’m writing you to let you know that even though I’ve never met you or our father I love both of y’all. My mother told me all about him, about how even though he was bat shit crazy and had anger problems he was a good man that had to do some bad things to provide for his family. I guess you can say the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree because look where the fuck I’m at.

It’s all good though. I don’t want you thinking we’re coming to y’all for money or for clout because that’s not the case. We wanted to reach out a long time ago but for some reason we never had the courage. When I got locked up I needed a lawyer, so my mom told Dylan to find our grandmother and he did. I know I’m not in a position to ask you for anything because you don’t know me but I’m going to do it anyway. Until I get home look out for my family, make sure they’re good. I’m not even worried about me I just need to know that my kids, my girl, my mother and Dylan are alright.

I would say that’s all I need from you but I really need you to come see as soon as possible. Not just because I wanna finally meet you but I really need to talk to you. I have something to tell you about our father and why he was killed. I know who did it.

As soon as I read the last sentence of his letter it dropped from my hands. My heart started beating so fast it felt like it was about to fall out my chest.  He was nine years old when my father died, how does he know who did it? All type of questions was running through my mind. Ten years later I was about to find out who killed my father and I was getting the information from a brother I had no idea about.

What type of Shonda Rhimes, Lee Daniels shit is this?”

Imani

Walking into Royals hair salon and barbershop I went straight over to my stylist and one of the managers of the shop, Tai’s station and gave her a hug before sitting down in her chair. Tai, who was recommended to me by Darnell, has been doing my hair since I started coming to this salon early this year and she kills it every time. She’s so good at what she does that have to make sure I’m here on time for my appointments because she’s booked out the ass all the time.

Royals is one of if not the best black hair salon in Jersey City. Everybody that works in the shop are top notch stylist, makeup artist, nail techs. To make it even better there were five barbers working there also so they had a big male clientele too. All in all Royals is the shit, and I don’t plan on switching salons anytime soon.

“What’s going on med school?” She joked as I took my hair out of the ponytail it was in.

“Nothing much, getting myself mentally prepared for school. I know it’s about to kick my ass.”

“Yeah but it’s going to pay off in the end so you’ll be good. What are we doing to your hair today?”

“Not extensions this time, I just need a silk press.”

“Did you wash it already?”

“No I didn’t, is Dana here?” I asked about my favorite shampoo girl. I loved when Dana washed my hair because she knew exactly how to do it. The water was always the right temperature and she wasn’t all rough, some of these bitches will damn near pull my hair out.

“Yeah she’s over there, go ahead she’s free.” I got up and went over to shampoo bowls where Dana was.

After she washed and conditioned my hair I went back over to Tai’s station and sat down. She didn’t start on my hair but instead stood in front of me. I looked at her confused and she motioned her head to the station that was across and a few chairs down from hers.  I looked over and rolled my eyes when I saw Kason’s ex Heaven sitting down. If her being there wasn’t enough she was sitting in Star’s station.

Star is like a mixture of Wendy Williams, and The Shaderoom. All she does is gossip and try to start shit. I’ve gotten into it with her a couple of times because she has a bad habit of talking about people I know when I’m here.

When I first started coming to this salon she was cool; annoying as shit but cool nonetheless. One day she was talking about this nigga that played her for some Spanish bitch and it turns out she was talking about my brother.

Apparently when Haze first started talking to NuNu he was fucking around with Star. Once NuNu found out she gave him an ultimatum to either drop all of his hoes or she wasn’t fucking with him. Of course he dropped his bitches and one of those bitches just so happened to be Star.

As soon as she said his name I interrupted her and let her know that’s my brother and you’re not about to sit here and talk about him like he’s a dog or some shit because he did what all niggas are supposed to do once they get in a relationship. Drop the groupies. Star didn’t like that I checked her and since then it’s been some tension between us.

The fact that she has this Heaven bitch in her chair is annoying because I know it’s some mess involved. Like I said, I’ve been coming here for a year now and I’ve never seen this girl here. Now all of a sudden she’s in this salon and just so happened to be in Star’s chair? I can smell the mess about to start.

“Listen, I need you to keep calm and whatever you do, please don’t call any of your family members down here. I don’t need the shop fucked up, Rome will lose his shit.” Tai said talking about her boyfriend, who owns the shop.

“I’m not calling anybody I’m good. As long as they don’t say shit to or about me I’m good.” I told her. I wasn’t about to act an ass in here, I’m not big on making a fool of myself. What I was going to do was tell NuNu to come down here just in case some shit popped off and these hoes tried me.

“Good let me start your hair so you can out of here.” Tai went to her original place behind my chair and started on my hair. I pulled my phone out and sent NuNu a text letting her know what was up and where I was. She immediately hit me up telling me to call her if they tried something.

“Imani you look cute today, I love those shoes.” The other manager Samaya complimented me while she stood at the reception desk doing something on the computer.  “Where did you get them?”

“Thank you, I got these at Neiman’s. I only went in there to find an outfit for Millz’ opening tonight and ended up with these too. Speaking of her opening, y’all are coming tonight right?” I asked Samaya and Tai both.

Tonight was Millz’ grand opening for her Interior Design company and I was excited for her. I know she’s been working her ass off the last few weeks just to make sure everything is right.

Tai and Samaya were both invited because Tai does Darnell’s hair, and Samaya does our makeup whenever we need her to. In my personal opinion both of them were the best in the city as far as hair and makeup go.

“Yeah, you know she wants me to do her makeup so I’ll be there. I have to be by her house at five o’clock as soon as that bitch finishes your hair we can both head over that way.”

“She could’ve come here and had you do it and get her hair done.” I said knowing damn well that wasn’t happening.

“Nah,” Samaya shook her head making me laugh.

Millz wasn’t bringing her ass down here at all. It would be a shit show if she did. Two girls she knows for a fact Prophet cheated on her with still work here, and a couple of his employees if you can call them that; frequent this salon. The way her mouth and temper is set up, it would be nothing but drama if she came down here. To avoid drama they just make house calls when it comes to Millz and sometimes Darnell depending on what she has going on.

“I don’t see why she can’t come here; she’s too good to bring her ass to the salon?” Star griped.

“No she’s not too good but I don’t need her in here beating people’s asses. She doesn’t have to come here if she doesn’t want to.” Samaya responded to her.

“Whatever, y’all act like y’all scared of her whole damn family. They’re not shit to be afraid of.” Star complained some more.

“You sure you want to test that theory?” I asked getting her attention. “Don’t talk about my family. I’m sure you weren’t complaining about us when my brother’s dick was in your mouth.”

“Alright everybody relax. Star you need to stop with your salty ass. Just stand there and do what you need to do.” Tai told her.

“Y’all always kissing her ass,” Star rolled her eyes.

“Ain’t nobody kissing ass you just look and sound stupid over there pressed as fuck for no reason.” Samaya snapped at her.

“I’m not pressed all I’m saying is she thinks she’s better than everybody. All of them do and it’s annoying.”

I ignored her and started scrolling through instagram. I wasn’t about to argue with a bitter Betty, there would be no point in that. If she wants to think I feel like I’m better than her, then that sounds like a personal problem.

The whole time Tai was doing my hair they weren’t talking about anything of importance; as soon as she started to wrap my hair these hoes decided to get messy.

“What’s good with you and your old nigga?” Star asked Heaven.

“Nothing much, he acts like he doesn’t want anything between us but we’ve been chillin’ lately so he must want something.” Heaven answered. I looked over at the both of them and this hooker had a smug grin on her face.

“He probably just has a distraction, but you never forget your first love so don’t worry about it. He’ll come around.” Star responded before chuckling.

“Do y’all have something you want to say?” I asked them. “You clearly want my attention so bad, now you got it. What’s up?”

“This is a conversation between two people. You can mind your business.” Heave said smartly.

“I don’t give a damn who you were talking to. I know who you’re talking about and if you don’t want a problem I would advise you to shut the fuck up.”  This girl was really trying it right now and she was going to be in for a rude awakening.

I’m a quiet person, I don’t mess with anybody I stay in my zone and mind my business. I still let slick shit slide because I’m not beat for the drama, but one thing I don’t tolerate is bitches being on or even talking about Kason a certain way. This broad was really pushing it talking about him knowing damn well I’m sitting here.

“You sound really insecure right now.” Heaven started to laugh.

“I’m far from insecure; however I am annoyed with you sitting over there talking about my nigga like I’m not going to pick up on it. I graduated college with honors bitch and a 3.8 GPA; I’m far from stupid so I know exactly what you’re trying to do and trust me sweet heart you do not want to go there with me.” I told her in a serious tone.

At this point I was pissed off. I do not play when it comes to Kason. I don’t like to fight but I will slap a bitch for that one.

“You need to talk to your man because the nigga sure doesn’t act like he has a girl when he’s around me.”

“Bitch bye you just said he doesn’t want shit from you but now he acts like he doesn’t have a girl? Like I told you thirty muthafuckin’ seconds ago I’m not stupid. Watch your mouth, I’m not about to slap you in here because I respect Tai and Samaya but you’re really pushing it.”

Heaven started laughing took the cape from around her neck and stood up. I couldn’t help but laugh because what exactly was that supposed to do? Scare me?

“Why are you standing up like you wanna do something?” I asked.

“Listen, I don’t know what your issue with me is but me and Kason have history. I was there with him through shit that your rich stuck up ass can’t even fathom. So, If I want to talk about him I can and you’re not going to do shit about it.” She said with her hands on her hips.

I looked at Tai and told her to take my cape from around my neck; she did and I stood up. I didn’t say anything to Heaven; I just went to where she was standing and slapped her. Instead of hitting me back she went straight for my hair and tried to pull me to the ground but it wasn’t working. All the while she was yanking my hair I kept swinging. I was getting her from the left, right and even got a few uppercuts in.

We were going in for a good minute before we finally got pulled apart. Heaven was on the ground slowly being helped up by one of the barbers. I was still mad as shit so I picked up my high heel clad foot and kicked her ass dead in the face.

Before my foot could even hit the ground good Tai was grabbing my arm and pulling me out the door with my stuff in her free hand.

“That wasn’t necessary you fucked her up already!” Tai shouted at me.

Seconds later Samaya came outside with her phone in her hand. “That heel must’ve scratched the shit out of her because her face is bleeding like crazy. She’s probably going to need stitches. Star is calling the ambulance for her.”

“Damnit Imani, why did you do that shit man?” Tai asked.

“I told her to shut up and she got up like she wanted to do something. It was either hit her or get hit first and that wasn’t happening.”

“I get that but now the bitch might be getting stitches and look at your fuckin’ face.” I took my phone from her and opened my camera up so I could see my face.

I instantly got mad all over again because I had scratches on my face. They weren’t so bad that they would leave scars but just the fact that my face was like this pissed me off.

“You need to go before Star hype her up to press chargers or something.”

“I am, I’ll see y’all in two weeks.Thank you for doing my hair even though that bitch fucked it up some.” I told Tai who laughed at me.

“All you have to do is brush it down and you’re good.” She combed my hair down with her fingers while I went through my purse for my wallet. I paid her for doing my hair and told her I would see her later before heading to my car.

When I got in my car I called NuNu putting her on speaker phone so I could talk while I drove.

“What’s good Mani, you getting ready for tonight?” She answered the phone.

“Tell me why I just had to beat this bitch ass in the hair salon.” I said, not even bothering to answer her question or say hello.

“Who? That Heaven bitch?”

“Yeah, she was in there running her mouth about Kason trying to be funny so I slapped her ass. “

“Where are you now? Are you still there?”

“No I’m on my way home and if Kason is still there I’m going off on his ass. This bitch was in there saying he was chillin’ with her and shit.”

“She could be lying; you just said the bitch was trying to be funny. Don’t take the word of a bitch, especially a pressed bitch over your nigga. If you want to ask him about it, fine but don’t go in there beastin’ over nothing.”

“I’m not beastin’ over nothing but I do know that this bitch isn’t just mad for no reason. You telling me he’s not around her at all yet she’s in her feelings enough to come at me on some bullshit? That doesn’t sound right,”

“You’re right, it doesn’t. I’m just telling you not to go in there on some crazy shit. I know how you get when it comes to that nigga and I also know that he’s not about to stand there and let you talk to him crazy. So, I just want you to get yourself together and actually give him a chance to explain. Don’t go accusing,”

“Whatever I hear you, I’m about to pull into the garage I’ll talk to you later.” I ended the call with NuNu as I pulled into the parking garage and went to my normal spot.

When I got up to the apartment I heard the TV in the living room on so I went in there first. Kason was sitting on the couch watching ESPN while Trouble sat on the opposite couch smoking a blunt.

I dropped my purse and keys on one of the empty chairs then went and stood in front of his face. He looked up at me confused then stood up and grabbed my chin.

“What the fuck happened to your face? You get in a fight with a cat on some shit?”

“No I got into a fight with your ex bitch. Are you hanging around her or something?” I asked him.

“Aww shit,” I heard Trouble try to mumble. The nigga can’t whisper for shit.

“The fuck is you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about, that bitch Heaven! Have you been around her? Don’t fuck with me Kason, I’m dead ass serious don’t do it.”

“I’m not doing shit. How the fuck did you even see her and what happened?”

“If you avoid my question one more time, I swear to God.” He was really starting to piss me off. I know he heard me ask him if he was around that bitch and he’s sitting here acting like he didn’t hear what the fuck I said.

“You need to calm down aight, let me explain what’s going on.”

“I don’t want an explanation right now I want you to answer the damn question. Were you around her, yes or no?”

“Yes I was around her bu-“ I put my hand in his face cutting him off.

“But nothing, that’s all I needed to hear.” I went to leave the room but he grabbed my arm.

“Wait, it’s not even how you think it is.”

“Kason, I need to start getting ready. Get the fuck off my arm,” I snatched my arm out of his grip then went to the bedroom slamming the door behind me.

I wasn’t in the mood to here an explanation about him and that girl, the fact that he was even around her period had me pissed off. I don’t care what the fuck is going on, I should’ve known about the situation as soon as he even spoke to her about anything. If she didn’t do that dramatic bullshit in the salon today I wouldn’t have known anything. He clearly wasn’t going to say anything so fuck him and that stupid ass explanation.

The rest of the day I pretty much ignored Kason’s existence. He tried talking to me but he got ignored every single time. The whole car ride to the opening was silent, and when we got upstairs to Millz’ office I immediately walked away from him and busied myself.

It had to be at least 50 people walking around. I recognized a few people we all knew mutually but for the most part I didn’t know anybody there besides the niggas I’m related to.

I was standing by the window just looking outside when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and smiled when I saw it was Millz who was trying to get my attention.

“Congratulations!” I squealed while I gave her a hug. She had finally made it to her opening after having all of her guest wait about 45 minutes. It’s a good thing she had plenty of alcohol and food or people would’ve been mad.

“Thank you,” She said when I let her go. “It looks good right?”

“It does, really good.” Millz’ office was the shit, everything about it was perfect. The decor was on point, she had all of her employees here talking to people. Pictures of the work she did on houses in Virginia were hanging up for people to see. She had her shit on point. “You look great too; that ponytail is everything. Tai and Maya hooked you up I see.”

“They definitely did and they also told me about what happened today. We’re going to talk about the ass whoopin’ you gave out later. I’m proud of you though, that’s what the fuck I’m talking about. Start beating on these bitches and they will leave you alone.”

“I’m not about to fight every girl in the world for no reason. I don’t like doing that, I’m not you.”

“Alright, I’m a little violent. Oh well; too bad so sad. Anyway get a drink and mingle because that’s what I’m about to do.  Have fun okay, where’s Kason?”

“Somewhere around here, I don’t know and I don’t care.”

“Hmm, we’re going to talk about that later too.” She winked at me before walking off into the crowd.

I grabbed a champagne glass off a tray when a server walked past me and went over to where my NuNu, my brother and everybody else were standing around talking. As soon as I walked up they all stopped talking and looked at me.

“Can I have my face back? Damn,”

“Eww, who pissed in your cheerios?” Darnell asked me.

“Nobody y’all were just staring at me like I was the topic of your conversation before I came over here.” I answered her.

“You were; I was asking this nigga.” She pointed to Kason, who was standing right next to her, “What’s wrong with you. You’re walking around with your face all balled up.”

“Nothing is wrong with me Darnell, damn drop it.” I snapped at her. She raised her eyebrow at me then started laughing.

“Okay, hold this.” She gave her glass to Xavier, grabbed my arm and pulled me to the bathroom. “Listen, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but your tone is a real problem for me. You don’t want my problem to become your problem so watch that. What’s going on with you?”

“Why don’t you ask the nigga that has me pissed off?”

“What did Kason do?” She folded her arms across her chest waiting for me to answer. I gave her the whole rundown about what happened at the salon and what I found out.

“Star is still messy I see; that bitch doesn’t get enough.” Darnell shook her head in disgust.  “So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,”

“Have you let him explain?”

“No, I haven’t spoken to him since earlier. what is there to explain? I should’ve known from the jump.”

“You still need to let him tell you what happened. You just said you don’t know what to do I’ll tell you what you should do. You need to let that man explain what happened and what the situation is. You never know, it might be something understandable.”

“I don’t care what it is, he should’ve told me.”

“You’re right, he should have. You still need to let him explain what it is. Do that when y’all get home though. Keep your relationship problems at home. When y’all are in public, nobody should be able to tell that y’all are going through it.”

“I hear you. Are we done with this little meeting?”

“You’ve been around Millz too much lately. Come on,” We left the bathroom and went back over to everybody.

“Where the hell did y’all go? Dropping off and shit, you missed my damn speech.” Millz said to us when we got close enough.

“My bad we were talking. I’m sorry, you can tell me what you said later.” I told her.

“Girl bye, what happened though? Somebody needs to get slapped? Wait nah, she did that earlier. My girl, kicking bitches in the face. You’re finally learning.” Millz said with a smile on her face.

“You have some issues.” Vick shook his head.

“I know right; speaking of issues. I met my brother today, well one of my brothers and I found out some heavy shit so we have to discuss that. Not right now because this is about my money, but we will be talking about it. I’ll let y’all know when, but until then I need to go finish mingling. You come with me,” She grabbed Trouble’s hand and walked off.

“Y’all peep that they’re matching?” NuNu said and I chuckled. I did notice that Trouble and Millz are matching. Taking their time my ass, those niggas are together.

Once Millz’ opening was done we all said goodbye to each other then left. When we got in the car Kason didn’t put the keys in the ignition or anything he just looked at me with a serious expression on his face. I tried to ignore it but after five minutes of him doing nothing but staring I finally got annoyed.

“Can you stop staring at me and drive?” I said while looking at him.

“Oh so you’re finally saying something to me?” He let out a bitter chuckle. “You funny,”

“How the fuck am I funny?”

“Who the fuck you cursing at?” He looked at me like I had two faces. “I let that shit slide earlier because I understood why you were mad but that shit is a wrap. Watch who the fuck you talking to like that aight, for real.”

“Just drive Kason.” I waved him off. I wanted to curse his ass out but I wasn’t even about to go there with him. It would just make him go from 0 to 60 in 2.5 seconds.

“Nah, I’m not moving until this shit is cleared up. We’re not doing this bullshit all night, so what the fuck do you want to know?”

“Why were you around her and what for?”

“Alright before I go there I’m going to give you a quick back story. Heaven is adopted, and she doesn’t have the best relationship with her birth mother. I don’t know why, and honestly I don’t give a damn. They don’t really get along but she loves her mother. I ran into her a few weeks ago and she was telling me about how her birth mother was in the hospital and she needed help with the bills. Before you even let that inner Millz that’s living in the back of your head out let me finish.”

“Fine, go ahead.”

“She told me about her mother, I blew it off because Heaven likes bullshitting. She actually showed me proof and showed me the medical bills and asked me for help. She was there with me through some shit before so I helped her out and gave her the money. I did go by the hospital like twice when she was there just to check in on her and that’s it. Nothing else happened, I never touched her, I never did anything with her. I never even let her think something was going to happen.”

“Why didn’t you tell me as soon as it happened?’

“Trying to avoid this shit right here. You think I want to go back and forth with your ass? I already knew you weren’t going to be here for it so I didn’t say anything. Now looking back on it that was stupid, but I promise you nothing went on with me and that girl.”

I didn’t need to look at Kason’s eyes to see if he was lying because I already knew he wasn’t. The bitch said it herself that they never did anything before I checked her. I wasn’t worried about him cheating on me but the secrecy shit is what irked me.

“You should’ve told me from jump. Don’t keep secrets from me.”

“I’m not, and I’m done with Heaven trust me.”

“Well you need to tell her that, no more communication after this shit. If you want to help her mother out some more, I don’t care. I have a heart, and her mother isn’t the guilty one so I’m not going to make you stop. Do you have to give her any more money?”

“She told me yesterday she needed a couple more stacks. I was going to drop it off tomorrow and be done with it.”

“Good. I’m going with you. It’s a good thing she won’t have to go too far to visit her mother in the hospital.”

“What you mean?”

“She was there earlier; I kicked her in the face with my heels on.”

He shook his head at me while laughing. ”I see that crazy Diamond shit is finally coming out.”

“It had to kick in at some point.”

The Next Day

“Why are you dressed like you’re ready to fight?” Kason questioned me while we were on the elevator.

We were finally at the hospital so he could give Heaven’s dumb ass this money. He was also going to make it super clear that she had no chance in hell to get anywhere near him again let alone getting back together. I decided to be nice and let him finish handling her mother’s medical bills but this shit was a wrap after today.

“Sneakers mean I’m ready to fight? Kason shut up. If I was going to fight I would’ve been wearing sweats or something, I’m cute today. The fuck?”

“I’m just saying; that’s not really your style.”

“Well I didn’t feel like getting dressed up. Let’s do this and get it over with so we can go eat. I’m hungry.” We got off the elevator and walked down the hall.

“Room 508,” He said as we went past different rooms.

“Does her mother know you?”

“Nah I never met her, I just drop the money off and go about my business.”

“So how do you know what room?”

“She told me because she wants me to see her mother but I never did. I don’t forget shit so,” he shrugged. “Here it goes, you coming in?”

“Hell yeah,” We went into the room and I instantly got confused when I saw who was lying on the bed. “Wait, is this the right room?”

“Yeah this is it; I’m leaving the check on right by the, bed fuck it.” He was about to walk over to the bed but he saw the bothered look on my face and stopped. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Kason this has to be the wrong room. This is not her mother.”

“What are you talking about Imani? This is the room number she gave me. How do you know this isn’t her mother? You don’t even know the bitch.”

“I don’t know that bitch but I know this is not her mother because this is my mother.”

“Hold up, what you say?”

“This is my mother Kason,” I went into my purse so I could get my phone and call my father but the sound of the door opening made me turn around. When Heaven’s eyes landed on me I could see the anger flash across her face.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She barked at me. I wanted to laugh because she had gauze on the side of her face and I knew it was because of me. Oh well, she shouldn’t have started some shit with me.

“No what the fuck are you doing here? How do you know this woman? You’re so crazy that you wanna stalk a bitch I don’t even talk to?” I said. How the fuck did she even find my mother and why is she even using my mother as a pawn to get some damn money.

“Fuck you talking about? Nobody is stalking you.”

“So you just so happened to show up to the same salon I go to on the same day as me? Yeah no, you were stalking then and you’re stalking now. I know you want him back but bringing my mother into it?”

“Your mother? Bitch I don’t even know your mother, what are you talking about?’

“Hello! You’re standing in her room, this is my mother.” I said and her eyes got big as quarters.

“Oh my God,” she mumbled before covering her mouth. Confused, I looked at Kason who was just as thrown off as I was.

“Heaven what type of games are you playing man?” Kason questioned her.

“I’m not playing games nigga, what the fuck I look like going through all this bullshit with hospital bills to play games?” She snapped at him.

“So what are you doing here then and how do you know my mother?” I folded my arms across my chest waiting for this answer.

“I’m not here because of you, this really doesn’t have shit to do with you. I’m here because I’m supposed to be here. This is my mother.”

“WHAT!” Kason and I shouted at the same time. I looked at her then back at my mother. What the fuck?

[disappearingground]

Jenny Lewis Starts Over

Rolling Stone March 5, 2019

After saying goodbye to her mother and a 12-year relationship, an indie-rock icon finds a new clarity in art and life

By Jonah Weiner

There are 19 white stickers arranged across Jenny Lewis’ fridge. Each one carries a stamped date, the logo of Providence Holy Cross Medical Center, the word VISITOR and, in Lewis’ handwriting, a different beguiling little phrase: I taught him how to 2-step; Rosey posey put your snake finger on; You are a sunshine in a fruit. “Every day that I visited my mom in the hospital,” Lewis says, “I’d get one of these and write down something she’d say to me. She got more and more psychedelic as we kept upping the meds, and she’d say the most amazing things.” Lewis points at one — Glue me to the ceiling so you never leave — and sighs. “She had liver cancer. From untreated hepatitis C. She was a lifelong heroin addict and also mentally ill and . . . just a really sad situation.”

It’s a drizzly evening in early January, and Lewis is at her home in Los Angeles, drinking gamay wine and discussing things she’s never discussed publicly before. Some listeners over the years may have noticed scattered allusions in her songs to her mother’s troubles and the painful outlines of their relationship. In 2002, on an early album by her first band, Rilo Kiley, she described a mother who was “insane and high.” In 2006, on her debut solo album, Rabbit Fur Coat, she sang, “Where my ma is now, I don’t know/She was living in her car, I was living on the road/And I hear she’s putting that stuff up her nose.” But Lewis has always been careful to let these lyrics speak mostly for themselves. When people ask about them, she’s frequently emphasized that the line between memoir and fiction in her songwriting is a slippery one. “Sometimes I don’t even remember what actually happened,” she says now, “and the song takes on its own life.”

On Lewis’ new record, On the Line, her mother appears again. This time she is in a hospital bed “under a cold white sheet,” and there’s no fiction at work. The earliest sticker on the fridge is dated August 20th, 2017, and by the end of October, at age 70, Linda Lewis was dead.

“We were estranged for 20 years, so this was the first time we’d hung out in two decades,” the 43-year-old singer-songwriter continues. “She was very sick, but I think she held on so we could have time to reconcile, and it created an opportunity for forgiveness. She didn’t have to say, ‘I’m so sorry’ —she said it by saying, ‘You’re a sunshine in a fruit.’ That was her way of saying ‘I love you.’ ”

Lewis started out as a kid actor, appearing on Eighties-era sitcoms like Life With Lucy, opposite Lucille Ball, and in movies like Troop Beverly Hills and The Wizard, opposite Fred Savage. By her twenties she’d all but quit acting and become a burgeoning indie-rock icon instead, known for her clarion voice, her killer ear for melody and her knack for evocative storytelling in a tweaked Americana style. Whereas Lewis’ last musical project, an ad hoc collaboration from 2016 called Nice as Fuck, was stripped down and upbeat, On the Line contains the most lush and melancholy music she’s ever made. The album has a grand rock sound — stately pianos, swelling strings, fuzzy electric guitar. Lewis cut its 11 songs at the venerable Capitol Studios in L.A. over just a few days last year, but she began writing them in this house in 2014, not long before her 12-year relationship with the Scottish-American musician Johnathan Rice deteriorated. She finished writing them after her bedside reconciliation with her mom.

Lewis gives the fridge a final look before turning out of the kitchen. “I wonder how long I’ll leave these up here,” she says.

Addiction, sobriety and self‑medication are running themes throughout On the Line. There are references to red wine, weed, grenadine, heroin, bourbon, Paxil, Marlboros, cognac, Candy Crush and, on the song “Party Clown,” a hallucinogenic Fuji apple. “Somehow I think the worst one of them all is Candy Crush,” Lewis says with a grin. “My mom started taking heroin when I was two or three, probably. So, growing up like that, there’s a realization that nothing is for free, and everything catches up with you — if you try to numb out, eventually you’re gonna have to face whatever it is you’re running away from.” She pauses. “I don’t have any judgment about it. Even with my mom: She did whatever she had to do, and she wasn’t able to kick it. Most people don’t make it out of heroin addiction. I don’t really blame her for it.”

Wine in hand, wearing a satiny cowgirl shirt and a bandanna tied around her neck that’s nearly the same shade of red as her hair, Lewis shows me around the house. Situated near leafy Laurel Canyon, it was built by a Disney animator in the Forties, and his touch is everywhere — delicate, hand-painted flowers on a wall here, trompe l’oeil flagstones on the floor there. In the living room a projector is playing the X-rated 1968 film The Girl on a Motorcycle, which stars Marianne Faithfull and is alternatively titled Naked Under Leather. Lewis has been on a leather kick recently, she says, showing me a photo-heavy 1977 book called Hard Corps: Studies in Leather and Sadomasochism that she recently scored on eBay. “I keep my whips and chains out in the pool house,” she says with a cackle.

Off the living room is the wood-paneled chamber where Lewis rehearses and writes. There’s a drum kit, a Wurlitzer organ and a little gas stove in the corner. Outside, near the pool, there’s a koi pond and a rose garden, all of it put in by the animator. Down the hall, there’s a roller-derby-themed pinball machine from around 1990 that periodically flashes the words WINNERS DON’T DO DRUGS in LED lights. Opposite the pinball is an enormous old promotional cutout for The Wizard, depicting Savage as an adolescent wearing a Nintendo Power Glove and an adolescent Lewis in acid-washed denim overalls. “This was at the movie theater in Van Nuys where I grew up — my mom made me go in and ask for it,” Lewis says. “My sister had it in storage, then had it framed for me and rented a truck to bring it over here. I wasn’t OK with this for many years, because early on in the history of my band, people would yell video-game references at me from the crowd. Now I just can’t believe that this is part of my weird story.”

She says she loved being on Hollywood sets as a kid, for complicated reasons. “I guess I liked being in that environment because it wasn’t home — it was this pretend-family vibe. My dad wasn’t around, so every time I got a job I kind of fell in love with ‘my father’ on set. I would just want that relationship.” (Her real-life dad, a musician named Eddie Gordon, was absent for most of her life, though he came back into Lewis’ orbit shortly before his own death, playing harmonica on her second solo album, 2008’s Acid Tongue.) Lewis’ off-set life in that era was consistently chaotic: “I think my mother was selling coke in the early Eighties,” she says. “She may have been Ricky Nelson’s dealer. And she was using the money I was making and parlaying it into her business. I’d come home from school and there’d be racks of fur coats, Krugerrands, boxes of Vuarnet sunglasses. All these bulk items in the house, drugs cooking on the stove, people coming in and out. Really interesting characters. I remember we had a Honda Civic, and one day it disappeared. Years later, I learned that someone had torched it as a warning to my mom. There was crazy shit going on.”

Lewis says that her elder sister, Leslie, became something like a proxy mother to her in their actual mother’s stead, and when Jenny co-founded Rilo Kiley with some L.A. buddies in the late Nineties, “that was my first chosen family.” Over the years she’d host jam sessions at home, inviting over members of like-minded acts such as Haim, Dawes and Conor Oberst, here and elsewhere in L.A. “I’ve always brought that jam vibe with me wherever I go,” Lewis says. “I feel compelled to play music, to play with people, or I’ll go crazy.”

In 2015, having split up with Rice for reasons we don’t get into, Lewis went to New York, crashing at the empty apartment of her friend Annie Clark, a.k.a. St. Vincent. “I couldn’t stay in this house,” Lewis says. “Johnathan and I were basically married. When you’re with someone that long, you share consciousness with them. I didn’t finish any of my stories — Johnathan finished every story for me. So part of the reason I went to New York was to find my inner monologue. I wanted to know what that voice was.”

The result, some three years later, is On the Line. Lewis made it with a particularly impressive surrogate family whose members included not only Beck and Ryan Adams, with whom she’d worked before, but also an older generation of studio pros: Rolling Stones producer Don Was, Heartbreakers keyboardist Benmont Tench, session drummer Jim Keltner (sideman for John Lennon, Bob Dylan and Steely Dan) and — to her delight and surprise — Ringo Starr. “He was cool — he just showed up one day with a smoothie and did double-drums with Jim on two songs,” Lewis says, adding that she’s not totally sure why the former Beatle came aboard. “I think Don Was showed him some of the songs, invited him to come down, and he was into it.”

[Editors’ note: This story went to press before the February 13th publication of a New York Times report on accusations of sexual misconduct by Ryan Adams. In a February 15th tweet, Lewis made the following statement: “I am deeply troubled by Ryan Adams’ alleged behavior. Although he and I had a working professional relationship, I stand in solidarity with the women who have come forward.”]

A decade-plus into her solo career, Lewis found herself trying new things in the studio. Keeping things spontaneous was a priority: She recorded all her vocal tracks live while playing her instruments, rather than tracking them in later. When Beck inserted a bit of placeholder Auto-Tune on a song called “Little White Dove,” Lewis decided she loved it and kept it in unchanged. (It reminded her of the Detroit rapper DeJ Loaf, whose single “Try Me” Lewis adores.) When it came to mixing, she says she took inspiration from Kanye West’s Ye — clearing out the midrange, focusing on the low end and the highs.

She sits on an oversize armchair in her living room and looks around the house. These days she splits time between L.A. and Nashville, where she jams with a whole other group of friends, including Karen Elson. Three years since her breakup, Lewis says, “I know how to take care of myself. It’s been really lonely, and really hard at times, and to go through the stuff with my mom alone—”

She starts to cry, untying her neckerchief and using it to blot her tears. “This is why I wear a bandanna,” she jokes. “But that’s the thing: I had to visit her, then come home and be alone and process my life with her.”

On the wall in front of her, Marianne Faithfull is making love to Alain Delon, but Lewis isn’t paying attention. “Life is crazy, but it’s incredible,” she goes on. “How amazing to see someone pass over. It’s magical. It’s the most intimate. It’s like a poem, and you don’t know the last line until you get there. But you show up.”

#publication: rolling stone #album: on the line #year: 2019 #mention: mother #mention: hospital #mention: drug addiction #mention: mother's death #mention: songwriting #song: little white dove #song: party clown #mention: child acting #person: johnathan rice #mention: father #mention: new york #mention: st vincent #mention: breakup #person: ringo #person: sister #mention: home

[excerptsfromunfinishednovels]

Excerpts From Unfinished Novels #10: The Seven Minute Duties of Reaper #357

Genre: fantasy, slice-of-life

Warnings: depressing thoughts about life and existence, existential crisis, implication of animal abuse (it’s not described), some strong language

Word Count: 4,228

Summary: After years of guiding human souls through their final seven minutes, Charlie – Reaper #357 – has become incredibly cynical about their job and life itself. Something needs to change for them or they might just lose their mind.

Excerpt is from the start of the novel

“Wha…what happened?” the young man asked groggily, pressing a hand to his head. He blinked and winced at the bright light around him, and looked around himself. “I was in my car, there was a crash…am I…am I in heaven? Are…are you an angel?”

“Not exactly,” Charlie replied, the boredom already evident in their tone.

They genuinely considered making up some sort of elaborate story about what they were, about the afterlife, forgiveness, nirvana, a higher plane of existence, but ultimately dismissed the notion. Management would not be pleased.

“I am a reaper; number 357 to be exact, and I am here to take you through your life.”

“My life?” The man paused and stared in to space for a moment, realisation slowly dawning over his face, his eyes widening in response. “Oh God…I’m actually dead aren’t I?”

“Almost.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your body is dead…and your mind is following. You have seven minutes left, and in those seven minutes I will take you back through your life so that your soul will be cleansed and ready for whatever comes next.”

*

“Whatever comes next?” the woman asked nonplussed. “What do you mean?”

“Well whatever happens once you die.”

“What will happen?” the woman asked, her voice filling with fear.

Charlie shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea. I think it’s whatever you want to happen; heaven, reincarnation, nothing. Anyway,” they said, clapping their hands together, “we need to get started. Chop chop!”

*

“I…I can’t believe I forgot about Steve,” another woman said hollowly as she watched the memories from her early twenties play out in front of her. “He was my best friend and I…I just forgot about him…How did I forget about him?”

“You grew apart, different paths, you met a woman, he met another woman, relationships took over, etcetera etcetera,” Charlie sighed. “It happens.”

“I just didn’t think it would happen to me…”

*

The man cried as he watched his younger self, stupefied from alcohol, throwing up in the middle of the living room before engaging in a verbal screaming match with his partner.

“I was such a shit,” he sobbed. “I can’t believe I put Jamie through that…they were so good to me and I…Oh God!” He completely broke down and reached out blindly to Charlie, burying his face against their chest.

Charlie sighed a long-suffering sigh, and patted his back murmuring, “There there.”

*

The woman’s life finished, showing her lying in bed with her children and grandchildren around her. As it faded to black, she fell to her knees, and Charlie smiled in anticipation of the happy tears that would surely follow. It had been a good life, one that was quiet and full of love and family. One that so many of their previous cases had been missing.

“I…God there are so many things I would do differently,” the woman whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

Charlie’s face fell and they uttered a flat, “What.”

“Did you see my life?”

“Yes; what was wrong with it?”

“It was so boring! I didn’t get to travel, I gave up on my dreams of art school, I never had a passionate love affair, I didn’t do anything! Well I can tell you, it’ll be different the next time around,” she said, her eyes manic. “I’m going to make sure I do all the thi-“

The woman’s voice cut off as Charlie waved a hand through her, and she faded silently into mist, the colour draining from her as she did. When she had completely disappeared Charlie sighed and muttered, “That’s what everyone says.”

They finished everything up, resetting the room back to its usual appearance; blank walls with only a simple table and chair in the corner. They sat down at the desk, opened the file on it and documented the seven minutes as they had occurred, along with the reactions of the client. Charlie ended the report with their recommendation.

‘Through the expression of their regret the client has demonstrated that although they have failed to grasp the beauty of the life they lead, they have in fact cleansed their soul by understanding what it would take for them to truly appreciate the life they are given. My recommendation (pending the beliefs of the client) is reincarnation.’

Charlie rolled their eyes as they wrote their recommendation; if they were allowed to be completely honest they would recommend that every person who expressed regret with a perfectly decent life lead be sent on to the next stage and not be given another chance. However, it was policy; if a being expressed genuine regret and remorse over their actions they would be allowed another chance.

Another chance to mess it up and regret their every decision yet again.

Report done, Charlie signed the document, closed the file and took it out of the room to hand over to the filing clerk. That done, they made their way to the lunch room for a well-deserved break. That woman had been their twentieth “seven minutes” that day and they were feeling completely drained from the repetitive cycle.

*

“Hey Charlie, what’s up?” one of his co-workers Dylan called out as they entered the room, waving them over.

“Nothing much, just had yet another client who had lead a perfectly lovely life which they then expressed all sorts of remorse and regret over every decision they’d ever made,” Charlie replied in an irritated voice.

“I feel you,” Bridget, who was sitting beside Dylan, said sympathetically as she poked at her jelly. “I had to recommend reincarnation for every single one of my clients today. Still,” she added brightly, “it’s worth it when you get someone who’s truly happy and at peace with their life and is ready to move on.”

“Oh yeah because that happens all the time,” Charlie snorted in reply.

“It does happen.”

“How many times has it happened with you? Because I can tell you that out of the thousands of clients I have had, only ten of them, TEN, have been ready to move on. Humans,” they declared decisively, “are compulsive moaners and begrudgers – nothing’s ever good enough, and even when they’ve had a brilliant life all they can focus on is how much better it could have been. And it doesn’t matter how many lifetimes they’re given, they will never change.”

“Wow, cynical much?” Dylan deadpanned.

“You would be too if you worked with humans.”

“Maybe; I guess we’ll never know,” Dylan replied with a lazy grin.

“I’m going to get some food,” Charlie huffed, turning and walking away.

By the time they returned to the table Sam was sitting with Dylan and Bridget, chatting animatedly with them, a cup of tea in one hand and a sandwich in the other.

“Hey Sam,” they said as they took a seat. “What pronouns are you using today?”

“Hey Charlie, it’s she/her today,” Sam replied with a smile. “How’s your morning been?”

“The usual; yours?”

“It was okay. I had a seven-year-old who died from lukemia, and a toddler with a brain tumour. Mainly happy memories though, and they were very peaceful in the end after our chat,” she told them, a sad smile on her face.

“I would take a thousand moany adults over guiding one child through their life,” Bridget said, and Charlie nodded in agreement.

Like many other reapers, they had applied to work in the paediatric section of the Seven Minute department; the case-load was smaller and you got to spend more one-on-one time with the clients making sure they were fully cleansed and at peace before being sent on. However, they had been rejected and sent to work in the adult section, the reason being that they had overly-sympathetic tendencies when confronted by emotional scenes, while at the same time lacked the ability to effectively communicate with younger clients. It was probably for the best; Sam had told them about some of her more difficult cases when they’d gone for drinks together after work, and all it had taken was the word ‘neglect’ for Charlie to start tearing up.

“I wouldn’t; guiding a young person through their final stage is an incredible privilege and an honour,” Sam replied, “even more so when they’ve had a difficult life. That’s when they need you most.”

“Well fair play to you because I couldn’t do it,” Bridget said, and finally started to eat her jelly.

Charlie quickly finished eating and stood up. “I have a few follow-up reports to catch up on, I’ll see you guys later.”

“We still have half an hour left before lunch ends; come on, stay and chat with us,” Dylan protested.

“Sorry guys, I want to try and get out of here on time for once.”

“You know there’s more to life than reports.”

Charlie laughed, a single snarky ‘ha!’ and replied, “Not in our line of work there’s not.”

“We’re still up for drinks later right?” Sam asked them as they stepped away from the table.

“Sure thing; swing by my office when you’re done.”

Charlie waved and walked off, dumping their empty tray by the bin as they exited the room. They grabbed a coffee, headed to their cubicle, put on their headphones and let the dulcet tones of Einaudi wash over them as they tackled the pile of follow-up reports they had let build up over the week. Ten minutes before lunch ended, they grabbed the files for their afternoon clients and quickly flicked through them. The majority of them were older, in their sixties, seventies, and eighties, but there was one person who had died in their twenties, and one in their forties. They were most definitely not going to be easy. A bell rang, signalling the end of the lunch break and announcing the five-minute warning for all reapers to get to their rooms to meet their first clients.

*

“Why did you decide to be a reaper?” Charlie asked Sam when they were half-way through their third drink of the evening.

Sam stared thoughtfully into the distance for a few moments before finally replying, “I’d just watched my life, and it was fine, nothing special, but I’d had a family and a dog and I’d volunteered in my community working with teenagers, showing them that you can be black and be successful and that education is important. I remember that, once the memories of my life had ended, I just thought that I didn’t know if there was any point in me living another life. Not in a depressed or apathetic way, just in a, ‘I’ve already had a good one, why push my luck? Why run the risk of being reborn as a terrible person?’ Which is probably really selfish; I’d done some good work in that life, and I probably should have gone back and hoped that I would do more good work, but I was afraid of all the ways I might mess things up, all the potential regrets I might have. And I didn’t want it to end either, I just…I wanted something different. So I asked my reaper about what they did and when I heard about the programme I volunteered straight away.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Not in the slightest. Yes, I’ve seen some horrible things, and yes there are nights I cry myself to sleep over the lives some of those poor young people have had to endure, but I know I’m helping them to find peace. Do you regret becoming a reaper?”

“Sometimes. A little,” Charlie admitted, staring down into their drink. “I wasn’t a bad person when I was a human, but I wasn’t a good person either. I left India as soon as I could to find a better life in England, and I got a job and a house and a dog who I loved, and I had friends who I loved and I let myself be sucked into the whole middle class bubble of ignorance. I let people think I was a player because I couldn’t face trying to explain to them that I’m aromantic, I never corrected anyone on my pronouns even though it made my skin crawl every time I heard the words ‘he’ and ‘him’ and I never once gave a thought to doing anything to support the community I knew I was a part of. I just thought, ‘what was the point of me? Why should I be allowed another life?’ So I said I didn’t want to be reincarnated, but that the idea of everything just ending terrified me, so my reaper told me that if I wanted to, I could become a reaper. It sounded like a good idea at the time; I’d have a job, something to do for as long as I wanted, and I’d keep my memories so I could finally work up the courage to start being myself. It was great at the time, really brilliant, and I got to change my name and tell other reapers about myself, meet everyone in work and make friends and finally be comfortable with myself…but now… I was always a bit cynical about life; what was the point in doing anything because nothing ever changes, blah, blah, blah. It was one of the things I wanted to change about myself, and I thought that it would, I thought I’d get to see all these different lives and help all these different people and it would be so clear that things do change, only they don’t! They don’t change – everyone makes the same mistakes and has the same regrets, and I don’t…I don’t know if I can be a reaper for much longer,” they finally confessed, their voice full of anger and misery.

Sam had listened attentively as they spoke, humming along and throwing out the occasional, ‘yeah.’ When they had finished speaking she sighed and said, “Oh Charlie,” and Charlie absolutely refused to look at the sympathetic look they knew was on her face, or listen to the pity in her voice. Instead they gulped down the rest of their drink and then stalked over to the bar to get more.

“Have you thought about going to a different section of the department?” Sam asked once they had returned with another round of drinks.

“I can’t go to any of the other sections; I’m not suitable,” Charlie replied bitterly. “I’ve thought about going to a different department, maybe just doing intake processing or dealing with recommendations…but the idea of that makes me feel even more miserable. I need…I need something different. Like something outside of work. Something to give some sort of meaning to my existence.”

“Have you thought about dating? Not like, romantically, but maybe something like a queer-platonic relationship?”

“No, I have literally no interest in that sort of thing,” Charlie replied, shaking their head. “Maybe I need like a hobby or something; I don’t really do much outside of work.”

“That’s probably a good idea; there’s lots of stuff that you can do,” Sam said eagerly. “You could come with me to kickboxing.”

“No thanks,” Charlie replied with a grimace, and then quirked their lips and added, “I was thinking more along the lines of knitting.”

“Whatever helps you out.” Sam shrugged, and then held up her drink. “To finding meaning.”

*

“What do you mean I’m dead?!” the man yelled at Charlie as the end of his life played out before the two of them. “I thought I was in a coma, I thought this was some sort of ‘Christmas Carol’ thing, I thought I’d have another chance!”

“I told you from the start, I’m a reaper and I’m here to guide you through your life.”

“You didn’t explain it properly,” the man argued, tears streaming down his face.

“I did; you didn’t want to hear what I was saying,” they replied firmly. “I’m sorry Mr. Parsons, but you are dead.”

“So that’s it? That’s it?!”

“It depends. You may be born again into another life, or yes, this may indeed be it.”

“I need to be born again, please, I’ll do anything, I need another chance,” the man begged as he fell to his knees. He grabbed Charlie’s trousers and clutched them as he continued to speak through his tears. “This can’t be it; I made so many mistakes. I promise I will do better, I promise I will learn from this, I promise I will -”

The man disappeared in a haze of mist and Charlie continued to stare at the spot where he had been only moments before. A drop of water hit the ground as the room around him went blurry, and Charlie suddenly blinked in surprise as they registered the tears that were welling up in their eyes. They quickly wiped them away, sniffed, and then set the room back in order before sitting down to finish the report.

‘I would strongly recommend reincarnation for the client; he clearly has learned much that will assist him in his next lifetime. This should ensure that he is fully satisfied the next time he enters the Seven Minute department.’

The last report of the day done, Charlie quickly sent it to filing and gathered their things. They had found a notice for a beginner knitting class that met Wednesday evenings and wanted to give themself plenty of time to get to the yarn shop where it was held. Charlie made sure they had their supplies, took a moment to panic over whether or not this was a good idea, reassured themself that it would be fun, and then walked to the exit.

“Charlie! Oh brilliant, I’m glad I found you!”

Charlie groaned and turned to see Dylan running towards him, a file in his hand. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah um, could you do me a favour? I would have asked Sam because she has clearance but she’s already left. I’ve got a date that’s supposed to start in half an hour and I’ve ended up running really late with my clients – there was a parakeet this morning that was being really difficult. Anyway, I have one more left but if I start I’ll be late for my date and I really really like this girl and I want to make a good impression, so could you please take this client for me? Please?”

“What? Dylan, I’m not qualified to work with animals, I’m not cleared for it.”

“No it’s fine, I’ll give you my pass card, and I’ve got the file here. Look it’s a dog, a family pet, died at ten so it must have had a pretty good life. It will be fine, you just sit with the dog, watch the memories, give it a cuddle afterwards and then write the report like you would for any other client. When you finish the report leave it on the desk and I’ll write up my recommendation and hand it in for filing tomorrow. It’ll be easy and you would be really helping me out if you did this.”

Dylan sent Charlie his best puppy dog eyes and Charlie felt their resolve immediately crumble.

“Ugh, okay fine,” they snapped. “Just this once though, and if it gets out you’re taking full responsibility.”

“Yes yes, great, thank you so much,” Dylan cheered, pulling Charlie in to a hug, which the other reaper half-heartedly returned.

He pulled back and handed Charlie the file and his pass card. “You’re a star; I will buy you many many drinks next time we’re out.”

“And chips and curry sauce afterwards.”

“You got it.” Dylan threw them a wink and then rushed off to grab his things and leave.

Charlie waved him off, sighed, returned their things to their cubicle and then headed off to Dylan’s office. They knew that this was a really bad idea, that they and Dylan could get in so much trouble if anyone found out, but it would just be this one time, and Dylan had assured them that it would be easy. Besides, Charlie hadn’t actually been around a dog since they’d been alive themself; it would be nice to get to cuddle up to one for a few minutes. That thought firmly in place, Charlie let themself into Dylan’s office, set the file on the table, checked the name of the dog – ‘George’ – and put the pass card into the slot.

The dog slowly materialised in front of them, his form starting off wispy and in shades of grey, before becoming more defined and solid, colour flooding over his body until he stood in front of them, his tail wagging. He let out a small bark and cocked his head to the side, and Charlie stared at him in slight confusion. George was a small black-and-white dog, looking like a cross between a collie and a terrier, and he was smiling that goofy lopsided smile that Charlie had seen on other dogs. However, he only had one eye, half an ear was missing, and he was painfully thin. He didn’t look like a family pet…Charlie double checked the file and saw that George had been owned by a family, the Smiths, up until he died. Maybe he was a rescue dog?

“Hey there buddy,” Charlie said softly as they crouched down and extended a hand out to the small dog.

George flinched and backed away. Charlie sat cross-legged on the ground, keeping their arm out and waited patiently while George stared at him curiously. Eventually the little dog moved forward and sniffed at Charlie’s hand, moving forward until he was nuzzling Charlie’s chest while Charlie petted his head and scratched behind his ears. When they felt confident that the dog felt comfortable with them, they scooped him up into their arms and stood up.

“Right then boy, let’s have a look at your life eh?”

George yipped and licked Charlie’s face. Charlie laughed and pushed a button on the wall. The room darkened and then suddenly expanded outwards in a burst of life as a room came into view where a mother was laying with her tiny pups. Charlie watched as George was taken from his mother far too early, and passed in to the eager eyes of a smiling child who hugged him close all the way home. They smiled as they watched George and the girl grow up together, practically inseparable as the years went by. The smile started to fade when the girl and her mother died, and George was left alone with the father. By the time George’s life came to an end, showing the thin, battered body lying in a heap on the ground, Charlie was sobbing their heart out and clutching George to their chest while the little dog whined and licked their face.

“You poor thing,” Charlie sobbed, cuddling the little body. “You poor, poor thing. How could he have done that to you? How could you endure it for so many years? Oh it’s not right, it’s not fair!”

They cried and cried until they had nothing left to give, and slumped in a heap on the ground as the room returned to normal, feeling physically and emotionally drained. The sobs slowly faded away and Charlie continued to hug George close as he licked their tears away. Eventually Charlie pulled away and looked down at the little dog, who stared back up at them, wagging his tail and grinning with his tongue lolling out. He barked and butted Charlie’s chest with his head, and Charlie laughed and ruffled the fur around his ears and neck.

“How could anyone mistreat you so you precious little thing. I promise you,” they said, leaning down so their forehead was pressed against George’s, “if he gets assigned to me, I’ll be recommending him for nothingness, rules be damned.”

Charlie hugged George one more time, then placed him on the ground and stood up. This was when they were supposed to send Charlie on, write the report and leave it for Dylan to deal with tomorrow. This was when they were supposed to put what they had seen behind them and head out for their knitting club, when they were supposed to get out and try and find something just for them.

They couldn’t do it.

George cocked his head to the side, and any resolve Charlie had managed to build up immediately vanished.

They sighed miserably, said, “Oh fuck it,” and scooped George up in their arms. They placed a hand against the dog’s forehead and transferred just enough life essence to him so that he could remain corporeal and stable. They placed the dog on the table, opened the report and quickly filled it in, finishing at the point when George’s life had ended. What they were supposed to write next Charlie had no idea, so they left it as it was and closed the file. They grabbed the pass card and file in one hand, scooped George up in the other and left the office. Charlie sprinted to Dylan’s desk, dropped his things on the table, and then made their way to their own desk.

“Be quiet,” they pleaded with George as they threw their coat over him in a poor attempt to hide him from any late workers.

They grabbed their bag, looked around, and then walked as quickly as they could out of the building.

Thanks for reading excerpt #10 from the Unfinished Novels! If you’ve enjoyed what you’ve read, please show your support by liking and reblogging, I really appreciate it all! If you have any comments or questions I’d love to hear from you!

Slán!

C.x

#excerpts from unfinished novels #writerscreed #reaper #short story #creative writing #lgbtqia #writers on tumblr #my writing #death #dog #reincarnation #existential crisis

[extroversive-introvert]

Addressing (and Aggressively Assaulting) Sacred vs Secular Again

PREFACE

Last month my youth ministry hosted its annual conference (my final one, perhaps ever, thanks to my migration) and on the second night had the supposedly “controversial” decision to host an afterparty with a DJ, playing EDM tunes you’d typically expect to hear at a nightclub. A lot of people have come up to me on separate occasions over the course of December and January asking for my thoughts on it. I decided to pen a 3,500+ word collegiate essay so I can redirect future enquirers to one place.

The Radio Game

I once played a “Christian or secular” game among friends in my religious circles, where a short excerpt of music is played and someone has to guess whether it’s secular or Christian music. The most accurate guesser wins. This is surprisingly easy for me. Especially radio stations. It’s easy to spot a Christian station far before any Christianese is said to confirm it.

At gut level, I find something very disingenuous about so-called Christian music. Country, pop, rock all have distinguishable sheens; the Christian variation is blander. The vocals are hot in the mix because the words are important. Much like country music, the compression style and Nashville tones are there but the delivery lacks the humanness and soul country has. You might get what I mean by fake emotion. There’s something more believable about a whispery promiscuous voice promoting drugs and sex on CHR top 40 stations over the voice that copies the style while putting Jesus lyrics to it. It’s not even the style of lyric that bothers me, but that I  don’t believe the singer is feeling the emotions that would lead to that kind of singing. It’s the same weird uncomfortable feeling when somebody belts a really loud, obviously fake laugh.

Marketing Zombies

Example, I grew up with pop punk bands like blink-182, Green Day, Linkin Park, and My Chemical Romance. The problem with Christianising is that emo music isn’t simply reducible to certain grunge tones and heavy power chords. There are emotions intrinsic to the genre that make the soul of the music. You can’t remove anger from the screaming and have it still be screamo. You can’t remove the bass-heavy pulsing and alternating tremolo tones from EDM trance music. You can’t take away the mixolydian chords and spontaneous comps and  raw organic atonalism from jazz. It’s the soul of that music, good or evil is immaterial; it’s simply the soul. So when you remove the soul from music and transplant the body parts (chord progression, instrumentation, dress, lights, look, basically everything but the soul) and parade it with more “positive, edifying” lyrics masquerading as Christian music, what you get is a musical zombie. It looks human, walks, talks, resembles humans, but isn’t. It’s a zombie without a soul, using a human body for its purposes.

This is my primary indicator every time I play the “Christian or secular” music game. I gaze into its eyes to see if it has a soul or not. It takes me no more than a few seconds. The industry is and has been broken for a long time. We call it “Christian contemporary”, but it’s not based on Christianity, but more so in marketing. Which I’ve also studied in depth.

When the foundation of the market and music you are trying to make is pretense, it’s very hard to be honest and successful. There is an unspoken assumption from most of us that we really want the people on the stage or on the book or album cover or on the radio need to have it together more than we do. Because we are messed up, we need them to be a sort of saviour and hope for us. The result of this is that it’s often the people who are really good at pretending that they have it all together that make it to the stage and the book or album cover and the radio stations. The interesting thing about massive Christian music tours is that most stages are in mainstream venues: clubs, theatres, etc...

But to me, the sad part is the empty bar each night. Even though these shows were all sold out, I would imagine that the bartenders at all those clubs were like “oh man, Christian night… that means no tips for me.” I know some promoters would buy out the bar so there wouldn’t be any liquor sales at all. I’m not saying that I wished that everybody was getting hammered at the show… but for crying out loud, buy a beer. Or heck, if you don’t drink alcohol, buy a Coke.

But here’s what’s weird about this situation. I bet you if you took all of those Christians that came to the shows and split them up and had them go to “secular” shows, A LOT of them would have bought a drink or two. It’s the fact that there is this assumption among all of the Christians there that having a drink at a Christian event is sort of a taboo thing to do. Why is this?

It’s certainly not because of the Bible. Jesus’ first miracle was turning water into wine at a wedding. And not just any wine. The kind of wine that made people think they saved the very best wine until the end. And you preachers who pervert the holy writ of Scripture with your own extremely biased interpretations, here’s a newsflash, people at parties don’t think the best wine is  your Sunday morning “non-alcoholic Ribena/grape juice”. Religious people didn’t call Jesus “a glutton and a drunkard” because He ate communion loafers and grape juice all the time.

And here’s the thing. I drink socially. Shocker. I don’t even drink very much. I’ve never been drunk in my life, and I’m not advocating that people should just be foolish with their drinking or eating habits. But for the love of my sanity, this whole spiritualising of alcohol being an inherently bad thing is bloody annoying. If I didn’t know Jesus, I’d have probably dropped an f-bomb where “bloody” would be. It’s mostly just a Western thing, by the way (as well as places where America has exported these ideas with our missionaries). If you go most other places in the world, or anywhere else in history for that matter, Christians drink alcohol. Ever heard of this thing called Communion? You know, the bread and the wine? That’s a pretty big deal in Christianity. Jesus didn’t pour out a cup of grape juice.

So Christians that would normally buy a beer don’t because they are in the Christian concert. Christian bands that smoke (more than you think, if not most, do) have to duck into back alleys as to not offend anybody. I personally think smoking is stupid. But I think it’s stupid because it smells bad and it kills you. But I don’t use my religion as a moral high horse self-righteously judge other people about it.

Rather than just being honest about where we are at and what we all struggle with though, we look to our gatekeepers to believe and live morally vicariously for us. That way we feel better about being part of the system of good, and the moral brokenness in our own lives is repressed like the fear of a child with her security blanket that is never faced down and eviscerated, which eventually develops unchecked into a more demonic stronghold in later years of adulthood. This sort of two-faced dishonesty is at the heart of much of what I and so many others find so repulsive about much of modern Christendom.

Actually, you know what the alcohol nonsense is based on? MONEY.

The traditionalists in the Baby Boomer pioneer generation are the people that give the most money to Christian organisations like religious media outlets. And these people grew up in a time where alcohol was seen as a taboo social reality. Just like dancing or playing cards or what they used to call “mixed bathing” (swimming). It’s based in an era of post-World War II prohibition. These are old American values we’re dealing with, not Christian values. It’s the old American people that have money that the Christian organisations are paranoid of offending. So they create an environment where drinking is seen as pure malice and wickedness. If you want to start a televangelist ministry or apostolic network, you can’t have it known to your donours that your staff likes to go out for drinks at the bar after work. So you implement rules for them. Do you know how common this is? Do you see the irony of this? If you had been a disciple of Jesus and drank some of the wine of His first recorded miracle with him, you would be fired from a lot of the churches in the country. Shame on us.

The point is, the way the industry labels things as Christian and sells them to you is more to do with marketing than Christianity. They market the cornucopia of historically religious, western values, and cultural boundary markers that created the sectarianism of Evangelical subculture, setting “us” apart from “them”, which makes us feel safe and righteous, while making the gatekeepers rich.

It’s also strange to me when people call those who deviate from the mainstream to stay true to their artistic integrity as “creative”. Artists like Gungor, David Crowder, or John Mark McMillan. Why do we feel it necessary to say that? Notice no one really says that about other types of music. In reviews of certainly authentically creative bands like Radiohead, Bon Iver, Sigur Ros, Bob Dylan, Owl City, Sufjan Stevens, Explosions in the Sky, Jamiroquai, rarely do you see the word “creative” pop up. No one goes to an art gallery and says, “wow that painting is so creative”. Why? Because art is intrinsically creative. Why else would it be there? Its very nature is creativity. It’s like telling me “I love your house because it’s so architectural.”

But when someone in the Christian industry takes their art seriously, everyone loses their collective shit over “how creative it is”. It’s almost like a person living among zombies for years sees an actual human being and exclaims, “look how clean his face is, there’s life for once”. It’s sad that the idea of creativity is so foreign to the Christian music industry that we have to actually point out when someone sees art as art and not zombie propaganda.

Does “Christian” music really exist?

Furthermore, one of my biggest pet peeves is the existence of so-called “Christian music”. Why do we call it that? Music can’t be “saved”. When I hear those songs, it’s not like I can give an altar call for the songs to walk to the front and receive Christ, then baptise them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and partake of communion together with them before I listened to them. Why is Christianity the only religion that has their music segregated by faith rather than genre? Why is it that every time I go to the iTunes store, I don’t see a Muslim section, a Buddhist section, an atheist section, an agnostic section? I can’t be the only one who finds it weird that all music is genre-divided, except for Christian music, which is separated by religious worldview.

I formally indict both Christian and non-Christians: on Christians because we like to retreat into our own subculture, and non-Christians because Jesus followers don’t have a voice in the industry at large.

The whole secular-sacred bullshit (yes, I said bullshit and I’ll say it again. Bullshit. Fight me.)  came from Greek philosophy, which distinguishes things of the body as evil and things of the spirit as important. God never made things to be inherently evil. He didn’t create everything so they’d be “Christian or not”. He created molecules and said they were “good”. It’s only when sin corrupted humanity’s genome, that the violation of our design spawned evil in this world from the tainting of our nature.

People talk about “sinning against God” by listening to and endorsing secular music. But as His image-bearers, we should reflect a proper image of the creativity of God. When we make bad things, we are reflecting a false image of God’s nature. If the Creator Himself is your dad and you have His DNA and you suck at creating, I would consider that a greater sin against God.

You are saying God’s a copycat, when He isn’t. You are saying God is cheesy, when He isn’t. You are saying God doesn’t believe in the excellence of all things, when He does. You deceive yourself.

Yeah, I went there. Fight me.

Jesus in your average Bangla worker

Why is it that art in the church traditionally is only a stained-glass portrayal of Jesus’ crucifixion? Is there no such thing as art in the Christian world outside of salvation? Can art just speak for itself as something beautiful and true and still reflect Jesus? 1 Timothy 4:4 states “For everything created by God is good and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, for it is made holy by the word of God and prayer.” That means God should get a lot more glory for things than we are willing to give Him credit for. If we only acknowledge Him for overtly Christian things, we are glory thieves. He wants EVERYTHING. When we bite into food, it’s an opportunity to praise God for taste buds and the pleasure of the ability to eat. When we listen to good music, it’s the same for the sheer creativity of forming something from nothing, similar to the story of Creation itself. When we see His handiwork in the sky or in nature or in general, it’s the same.

Another noteworthy thing: Peter was a fisherman. Paul was a tent-maker. Jesus was a carpenter.

How strange is that? Jesus literally made things out of wood all day. He wasn’t a temple rabbi, but a wood craftsman. An average, blue-collared, 9-to-5 layman. Your average Bangla worker. How sobering the thought is of how quickly we would pass Him today if we saw Him on the street. Excepting vocations that violate Scripture (like prostitution or sorcery), most Bible-time followers of Christ retained their jobs. If a blacksmith became a Christian, he stayed a blacksmith, just a blacksmith to the glory of God.

Paul repeats it numerous times in Ephesians and Colossians, but for example’s sake in 1 Corinthians 10:31: “So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it for the glory of God.” Note that there’s no codicil that states “only if that eating or drinking is done in an outrightly Christian way like communion or after-church potlucks”. We should not consolidate God’s glory to explicitly “Christian” things, because we owe Him more praise than He is due. God gets glory for everything, and every tongue will eventually glorify God, be it through His grace or His justice.

When non-Christians speak the truth

In Acts 17 before the Areopagus council, Paul quotes pagan poets Epimenides and Aratus: “For in him we live, and move, and have our being: as certain also of your own poets have said, ‘For we are also his offspring.’” to prove his point. 

How many of you today would rebuke Paul for quoting secular philosophers instead of the Torah? Truth is truth no matter if it comes out of the mouth of a donkey, a philosopher, a newscaster, a sinner, the president, or a prophet of God. In fact, if we are being transparent, a lot of times when we reject truth coming from non-Christian sources, we’re trying to vindicate ourselves by justifying our disobedience in spiritualising our dysfunction.

If we are so picky about secular-sacred over music, why don’t we apply it everything else to maintain our consistency? Imagine you’re in the ICU at the hospital. How awkward would it be if you told your doctoral team that’s about to operate on you and save your life: “are you all Christians? If not, you can’t perform surgery on me!” That’s stupidity. We judge doctors based on their field of expertise. Either the doctor is good at medicine or not. And you can give God glory and praise when you walk out of the operating room healed because He has uniquely anointed the doctor with a gift in order to bring Him praise, whether the doctor is Christian or not.

The same goes for art and music. It’s not about a piece of work being “Christian” or not, but about being authentic, beautiful and excellent. Paul states in Romans 11:36 that “from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be the glory forever.” This means God is glorified in everything He creates. Does this mean everything has to be received and accepted? No! That’s why Scripture is the litmus test - does it hold up? Does it line up? Does it reflect God’s character in Jesus?

Creation Mandate or Salvation Mandate?

God cares about every domain of life - science, arts, government, culture - it’s all His. He wants redemption in those fields, and He redeemed us that we might redeem them in His name. We are created to cultivate, not just talk about religious things all day. Jesus makes it very clear He came to build His Kingdom. This isn’t just a consecrated clique, but a lifestyle entirely encompassing every realm of society. If we don’t realise it’s about the redemption of not just people but the entirety of creation, we’ll reduce church doctrine to escapism rather than restoration. Music is God’s. Sex is God’s. God invented them and called them good. Creativity is the wisdom of God manifest.

The issue with our subculture is that our art and glorification of Jesus weakens when we lose our sense of comparison. This happens when Christian musicians aren’t shooting to be the best musicians, but the best Christian musicians. The standards are lowered. Art can speak for itself. It’s a reflection of the creation mandate, not the salvation mandate. Rather than making Christian music, we should make music with a Christian worldview, much like how atheists, Budhist, and others do when they make music. There is nothing about music that is inherently Christian; it’s the worldview in the music that has the potential to be.

When we privatise our art to a nonexistent “Christian” sector, we see churches feeling the need to be relevant rather than just using their gifts to reflect who God is and what He is like. That’s the root of the seeker-sensitivity issue everyone seems to be losing their collective religious marbles about. And the problem with that is that it makes us cheap copycats of what our culture already does. This puts us decades behind “secular culture” because rather than setting precedent, we’re riding their coattails hoping to recycle intact scraps for ourselves. That’s not redeeming. That’s stealing. And if you want to have a taste of your own religious medicine, what does the Ten Commandments say about stealing?

The Laziness of Escapism

The problem with counterfeit art and Christian subcultures is that it tells a sinful lie about God. When we become lazy and only copy other art to make it Christian, we are essentially saying God is a cheap copycat and a fake who requires culture’s creativity. If God is Creator, aren’t His people supposed to be the most creative? When we make art and engage culture, what kind of picture and message are we giving the world about God? How would that convince them that God is better?

The truth is, God is a God of excellence. He accomplishes things above and beyond, lavishing excessively and adding subtle nuances to bring His name glory. When Jesus spoke to Peter about starting the church, He said “the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” The crazy thing about that statement is that gates don’t move on their own. For them to “not prevail”, something has to be charging them, because in the militaristic sense of the word, they are a defensive structure. Jesus is implying that the Church will storm the gates of hell, not fleeing in the opposite direction. We should be engaging and infiltrating and repelling the realms of darkness as a powerful offensive. He doesn’t commission us to retreat, escape, and cling to each other because the powers of hell chase us in the domain of secular music and evil movies. No, He says infect every domain in life with His grace as radioactive contagions.

There is no divide between secular and sacred, and we completely miss the point of worship when we insist on it. God created everything, so something doesn’t have to be explicitly Christian. We judge things based on beauty and truth. God owns truth. He has a monopoly on truth. As Christians, we should be setting the bar for good art and culture, not sequestering ourselves away into our pathetic little sectarian subculture and copying the art we call is "the devil's work" in order to "Christianise" it and make it palatable for an audience who won’t see art for art, as art regardless.