#i ALWAYS try to keep myself humble related to dog things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wexhappyxfew · 3 years

Note

Shannon! I have a question for today, it might be a little broad, but how did you come up with Natia’s character? :)

AMY!!! hello! sorry that i have *just* gotten to this as my weeks have increasingly gotten insanely busy between my job starting back up, school, college stuff, and ap exam chaos as well haha! i did this at about 11pm(?) and i'll be queuing it up for the morning for you, but outside of tumblr, i've thought a lot about this question and what i really wanted to include in this question. having almost spent 10 months spent writing and developing natia to who she is today makes a whole lot of stuff move through my brain when i go back to my developing stages for her! thank you for the question (and the broadness, never fear, i absolutely love it!)

Natia's character really came from the idea of just wanting to really push myself out of the box and *out there* to see what I could do. And I will say Landslide is one of my most *out-there* projects in terms of content - I mean we have Death as a personified character, crazy Agent Mortem, all these past connections to Natia? It's chaos haha! But, I had experimented previously with a partly Polish-OC, Hazel Parker of "The Soldier of Stars", and from that, I went, well there's no centrally focused Polish OC yet that I have seen (this was back in like June-July 2020 mind you, so there probably has been Polish OCs created since this time!!) and I had always felt that the Warsaw Uprising was inherently important! I also read up on the Polish Resistance and how they were the most effective resistance group of continental Europe during the war, with ultimately the Warsaw Uprising being their last final push that did sort of end that.

Something I've really enjoyed about creating Natia's character was putting a great focus on her flaws. Now, her strengths are just as important - she is a great soldier in the field, she's highly intelligent and can make quick decisions on the fly, she withholds a lot of strength when it comes to situations where she needs to focus, she's observant, and she keeps herself fairly humble when not bursting at the seems. She doesn't let herself get stepped over very often (unless it's Mortem) and if anything she will insert herself, and show what skills she has, but she won't go overboard. She's also passionate about her country and her people and she always has something to fight for and even when she feels all hope is lost, she withholds a tiny little sliver no matter what, even if she doesn't feel it. But her flaws I feel are a massive part of her character. She's stubborn, she won't let people help her, she has trouble expressing emotion, she numbs herself more often than not to not feel the pain that she is supposed to feel, she blames everything on herself, she gets hot-headed quite easily, and grows to the point of nearly irrational at some moments in time and even will let her emotions get the best of her in times like this. But that makes up who Natia is as a character and who she is as a person in general.

But even with the strengths and flaws of her character, it makes her very much still a human being. And that was one of my main goals when creating Natia - make her human enough to make that angst HURT, but make her human enough that when you see her succeed or even the little wins here and there, you want to cheer. Because those are human moments. And I know this sort of character creation is not for everyone, but for me over the past near-year, this has been one of my favorite things about creating Natia because I've found myself able to relate to her even though I'm so vastly different from her.

I did some research on a British-Polish SOE Agent, Krystyna Skarbek otherwise known as her alias Christine Granville and I took a few liberties from this amazing woman and used it on Natia. But things such as Agent Mortem, Death/War connection and the eventual introduction of another character Solomon Campbell (who will be in Part 3), as well as the Resistance group of Part 1 and her siblings and parents, are all more of my own ideas and connections!

Something I have had a LOT of fun doing is showing that even though on the exterior Natia seems cold-hearted and dark and numb, and whatever other *cold+dark* ideas can be thought up, she is very much underneath -- not that. We can see how much evidently she cares for someone like George Luz; I mean even Joe Liebgott has pointed it out to her. She always is just trying to do her best and do what is best in the situation - no longer it is about what is good or bad anymore to her, it's about doing what's best in the situation for the time being, and I really love that aspect of her character a lot! We can see that when the war ends, she wants to live on the English coast, far away from war all alone with a dog and even a little goat in a seaside cottage. She grew so attached to the word AWOL after Joe Toye came and sat with her that night in Holland and they talked for once about something other than war. She even withheld her name, her nationality and just about everything else to keep the idea of the cold-face agent she thought she was up so the men of Easy Company don't have to know the real her. But -- was it to protect her...or to protect Easy? All these little ideas I threw in there to show that she is actually, very, compassionate in many ways, and caring and attentive and observant of the men and women she works with.

I really try to show that Natia listens when she listens to someone speak and she observes and she pays attention more than anything. And she ends up, holding information like that close to her and finding comfort in it.

My goal with Natia was to show that there can be a balance to "the bad-ass fighter" idea who fights for what she believes, but also remain human as well. We can see how much things affect her, especially the loss of friends. Of course, she doesn't show this to other people, but to use as readers, we see this and we see her occasional breakdown - and in a way, she continues living on their legacies because she listened to what they had to say. For example, Zdzich told her to not let the war overtake her, and throughout the story so far, we've see her sort of repeat this to herself in various ways. Because Zdzich meant that much to her. She's lost so much by this point in war that almost it's so sad to see that she, from what we all know of BoB, still has to go through so much, but at that point, she's fought so much, that all she can do it keep pushing on with it.

I think one of the most interesting moments from writing Natia was when the first few chapters were actually uploaded on platforms and there was someone really coming after Natia for her decisions and for this, that and the other thing (amy if i vaguely remember i think you remember who this person is as well because you clapped back at them once, and man your response was GOLD!!!). One of those things was Natia's approach with food (TW: mentions of struggling to eat with food, references of depression and struggling to eat, mental health issues relating...) and the person who commented would always be saying something about how she needs to eat, and she needs to remain strong and she needs to snap out of it with her depression and all this other stuff and to be honest, I sort of sat there for a moment like??? But there's reasons WHY she's not eating? Why she's holding back? (And of course ones I had mentioned so...) But let's move on.

Mental health was a prevalent thing in World War 2, though it was not looked upon fondly and Natia essentially does have depression as well as a border-line eating disorder. And so when the comment said that she had to snap out of it, I don't know it sort of off-put me because I have family with both those disorders and they've had treatment for it for years and you can't just snap out of it. I really tried to stress that 'the snapping-out-of-it" does not work, and the person kept firing back a bit at it, so I just moved on from it and ignored it. Natia's struggle with eating, as one can see, also comes from the heavy guilt and grief that is slowly uncovered throughout the story of what Natia has done and what has happened throughout the course of the war to her. Natia's number one thing she constantly does and has now become the focus of many character relationships with her (ie Doc Gene Roe) is the clenched fists, that she squeezes until they bleed and eventually need wrapped up by the Doc. Something she also refuses to accept she has a problem with. As we can see, acceptance is a concept she struggles with more than anything and something she will essentially have to learn to simply, accept.

That's just sort of one of the many bits of information about her character that I added, especially in society today as mental health is so important and so I just wanted to share a bit of the backlash I got from someone for it. But I guess that's life, but I'll continue to write Natia Filipska as an OC who does struggle with depression because of her life in war.

Natia's character and her story is probably one of the most complex characters and stories I've written and crafted and created and I'm just extremely happy with how she ended up coming out in the end! I'm about to go and do some writing and editing for her and it's just so exciting writing her because of all these various levels she withholds and she slowly lets uncover as the story unfolds! I just love it! OH - and we can't forget about the infamous mentions of the piano....yep that'll be coming up soon haha!! <3

THANK YOU FOR THE QUESTION AMY!!! IT MEANT SO MUCH!!!! just getting to talk about Natia a little bit and her character and what my mind set was creating her - it means so much. my mindset with her is somehow always changing and shifting as she goes through her character arc throughout the story and how her developmental shifts and it's just something i really love and enjoy more than anything!!! <3 so thank you for letting me just talk about it for a little while as well as my thoughts and opinions, it means a lot :)

#character analysis #natia filipska #agent fidel #landslide #bob fic #band of brothers #band of brothers fic #OC #band of brothers OC #thank you amy!#this was very fun to put together i will say!#tw: mentions of depression/slight eating disorder #ALL QUEUED UP !!!!

19 notes · View notes

snowspryte15 · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on Cruella

Let me ask you a question:Have you noticed the increase in stories about making villains more relatable to us, and even giving them something that seemed to be lacking in all the fairytales we all know so well?

Something like humanity?

Here’s the thing: no one is truly born evil, and to quote a line from Once Upon A Time, “Evil isn’t born; it’s made.” Perhaps the baddies were actually good people who were capable of being happy, finding love, and living their best lives. But unfortunately, a chain of events or even people who wronged them would lead them down a dark path that is often very hard to come back from. In other words, the stories and characters we know isn’t always black and white. (See what I did there?) You can say whatever you want about making villains relatable or even showing sympathy to them, but I stand by my humble opinion that the updated version of the fairytales and stories we grew up not only gives us a glimpse into the heroes and making them more like us, but also the villains because their more than just the 2D stock characters we grew up with over the years. In other words, it gives everyone more DEPTH. The same is true for Cruella. I realize many of you are starting to (if you aren’t already) get tired of films making the villains more relatable or even giving us a villain to show sympathy for. And I get that. But let me ask you this: is the world we see today always black and white to you? Should it always has to be good vs. evil when there are layers underneath the goodness and the evil that’s in this world? Should we automatically assume that all of the bad things that happen on the news are caused by bad people? I think you know the answer to this: no. We’re all capable of being good people, no matter what society tells us. But the fact that we’re all born to be originals and not copies of another individual but being told that we have to be “perfect” or “thin” or “beautiful” or “handsome” or any of those labels is what draws people to the dark side, and that includes giving into power, greed, malice, and hatred. And here’s something else to think about - we’re always told by those around us, whether that’s our loved ones or complete strangers, to hide what makes us unique or even brilliant because it may not sit well with everyone. That’s another reason why some people go towards the dark side. And on another level, they use what makes them unique to stand out in not-so pleasant ways, instilling fear into others by what they say and do. Both cases aren’t right, not by a long shot. Now do you see why not everything is black and white? It’s hard to take the animated films we grew up and breathe new life into them while keeping these thoughts in mind. Especially if we were taught at an early age who’s good and who’s evil, and that the baddies aren’t deserving of our sympathy or even redemption. I don’t know who exactly started this tradition of taking the fairytales, animated classics, and other stories we all grew up with and add more dimension and humanity to each of the characters, including the villains. But I’m glad they did. It gives us something to think about and makes us see that we have a little bit of evil inside of us. I may be in the minority when I say this, but movies and shows like Once Upon A Time, Maleficent, Ever After High, Descendants, and Cruella fascinate me because it allows me the chance to see how capable the villains are to being good people and their external and internal struggles to keep the goodness in their lives while navigating through all of the bad things and people that come into their lives which sets a course towards their villainous nature.

At least take into consideration the hard work the authors, screenwriters, and creators put into formulating the question “what if...” and how much fun they have breathing new life into these characters we grew up with and how much of ourselves we can see in the villains, no matter how much we try to deny it. There, I said it. I may once again be in the minority when I say this (it seems to be a theme lately on Tumbr, which is quite sad), but I enjoyed Cruella immensely. The acting, the costume designs, the hair and makeup, the songs... It was just bloody brilliant. Both Emmas - Emma Stone and Emma Thompson - played their parts extremely well. Ms. Stone navigating through her internal battle to be a good person while facing a conflict with the bad side was a wonderful site to see. And Ms. Thompson, I mean, come on. She’s just fantastic all the way around. To play a narcissist isn’t easy, but she makes it look so simple and enjoyable. I commend both of their performances in this film. And let’s not forget the rest of the cast - Joel Fry, Paul Walter Hauser, Emily Beechan, Kirby Howell-Baptiste, Mark Strong, Kayvan Novak, Jamie Demetriou, Andrew Leung, and John McCrea - such an outstanding ensemble! In the theatre, you know a show is fantastic because of its ensemble. The same applies in the movies as well. They may not get recognized as much as Emma Stone or Emma Thompson, but it was such a joy seeing these talented performers play their parts well, and the depth they played at was a joy to watch. Let’s talk about the costumes, hair, and makeup. This film better get awards for all of those areas (or at least nominations) because the designs and styles were truly epic. It’s hard to get the fashion of the times right without extensive research and a little bit of creativity and imagination thrown in for good measure. But Jenny Beavan and Nadia Stacey deserve all of the praise and accolades for rocking out the 1970s with boldness and some pretty wicked designs. I’ve noticed skimming on here the discontent many of you have for portraying Cruella as being a villain we should have sympathy for, especially since she wanted to skin Dalmatians for a coat. That alone should be cause for her to not be worth an ounce of sympathy, and I understand that. As an animal lover myself, I’m inclined to agree with you. But I’m going to let you in on one spoiler that I ask you take into consideration: no Dalmatian dogs were killed or skinned in this movie. I repeat: no Dalmatian dogs were killed or skinned in this movie. And here’s something else I want you to be on the lookout for should you decide to watch this film. During the end credits, there is a special message out there for those of you who are thinking about owning a dog: “Every dog deserves a loving home. If you’re ready for the commitment of pet ownership, please consider visiting your local animal rescue to find the right pet for you.” That message alone speaks as to how far we’ve come in society, and here’s why. Whenever we see movies or TV shows that feature dogs and cats, particularly puppies and kittens, we tend to rush out right away and getting them because they’re so adorable. But when they grow up, we tend to let them go and leave them in some unpleasant places. And organizations like PETA beseeched the film and the company to take a stand and use their voice to encourage adoption of pets in shelters and rescue centers and not pet stores. Apparently, the film and the company listened because they put this message during the end credits. Well done. I may not be able to convince you to go see this movie or give it another chance if you already saw it, nor should I try. But I do want you to take into consideration the amount of updated versions of the stories we all know and love, and how much the authors, screenwriters, and other creative types are bringing in humanity and depth to these characters. We’re not 2D characters like the heroes, heroines, and villains are often seen as in the original stories, so why should they be treated and seen as such for generations to come? We’re more complex and layered than seen in fairytales and animated movies. Also, I don’t think these stories where the authors give villains a chance to experience goodness before they became bad or even blurring the lines between good and evil are going away. It allows us as human beings to see and try understand that we’re all capable of being good, but it’s the events and people who come into our lives that shake things up and even brings questions of whether we’re truly good or evil that sets us down a path we alone can walk. And more importantly, it gives us as the audience a chance to see a little bit of ourselves in these characters, even if you don’t relate to the villains at all. I suggest you stop griping about the rise in updated versions of the films, TV series, and book series of the original classics and accept that they are here to stay. I’m not saying you should read or watch them if they’re not your cup of tea, but at least try to understand that things were NEVER always black and white, especially where fairytales, animated films, and even more stories are concerned. At least try to understand that part, okay? Is that too much to ask? I’m not here to change your mind. I realize I can’t do that. So many of you are so set in your ways and opinions, and all I can do is pray for you. But I am here to share with you my thoughts on Cruella and how the updated versions of these stories are here to stay, whether you like it or not. And I’m also here to try to help you see that these stories allow us to see a little bit of ourselves in these characters we grew up with, even if it’s through a new set of eyes. You are welcome to disagree with me, or even not say anything at all. But all I ask is that you be respectful of my opinions and what I have to say. I will not tolerate any hate speech or disrespectful language. You do that, and I will block you. If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything. It’s that simple, and yet it’s so hard, especially on Tumblr. I hope I didn’t take up too much of your time.

#disney cruella #emma stone #emma thompson #jenny beavan #nadia stacey #what if #villains #brilliant #bad #a little bit mad #opinion #bekind #be respectful #costumes #hairandmakeup #101 dalmatians #dalmatian #something to think about

17 notes · View notes

justfinishedreading · 4 years

Photo

The Diary of Adam and Eve by Mark Twain

Spoilers (Sort of)

Before reading this book I had never read anything by Mark Twain, but I had heard that he was a great comedic writer and I was looking forward to my first experience of his writing. The Diary of Adam and Eve is his somewhat comedic and satirical version of the biblical legend, told in diary entry form, alternating between Adam and Eve. It’s important to explain that The Diary of Adam and Eve is not actually a single work of fiction; during his lifetime Mark Twain wrote seven short texts on the theme of Adam and Eve, published in different literary journals. These texts focus on different ideas within the context of the legend and do not always follow the same storyline or describe the same events in a consistent way.

The first text contains ‘Extracts from Adam’s Diary’ and ‘Eve’s Diary’, we’re first introduced to Adam (of course), he talks about the arrival of a curious and chatty creature who calls herself Eve. Adam is a solemn and territorial recluse; his diary entries are brief and mostly talk about how annoyed he is that Eve keeps hanging around him and thwarting his frequent attempts to run away. It is Eve who introduces the word “We” to Adam, before her, the possibility of the concept of a collective never occurred to him.

Eve’s diary entries are much longer and philosophical, in them she questions the existence of the creatures in the garden of Eden, their nature, and her own existence and feelings. She examines lions and tigers and tells Adam she believes their teeth look like they were designed for killing and consuming flesh, yet these animals currently eat grass and flowers. Adam tells her that animals killing each other would bring Death to the garden, which is something that has not yet happened. Eve’s observation is telling us that if animals were already “designed” this way, to inflict death, then it is with the anticipation of an event the creator already knows will happen. According to the Bible, Disease, Pain and Death were released onto the world once Eve and Adam ate the forbidden fruit, however if God’s world was already designed and created in preparation for such an event, was it ever Eve and Adam’s fault for disobeying an order given by a being who already knew the order would be disobeyed? With time recluse Adam warms up to Eve, although he doesn’t seem to have many redeeming qualities, one thing I will say for Adam is that I don’t recall him ever even thinking about blaming Eve for their “downfall”.

There are some amusing scenes in this first set of texts, for example Eve gives birth to Abel while Adam is away travelling, when he comes back Eve explains nothing and Adam is perplexed by the baby and keeps trying to conduct experiments on it. He is also obsessed with trying to capture another one from the wild. Twain gives both Adam and Eve a child-like wonder and amazement at the world and entertains us with stories of Eve trying to fetch stars from the night sky and wondering who stole them when day approaches.

Eve is convinced that she is some sort of experiment. The way the story of Adam and Eve is interpreted is usually that Adam was made in God’s image, God then took a rib from Adam and made Eve, therefore Adam is closer to God, and Eve is somewhat inferior because she is a copy of a copy. But if we think about what happens with anything that is created, the first creation is never the best version, usually with each new creation it is better than the last, it is improved. In this light we can view Eve not inferior to Adam but superior.

Eve tells us that she sometimes acts silly, or she conceals things from Adam in order to save him from feeling embarrassment, she realizes that he lacks some of the abilities she has and she does certain things to dumb herself down in order to not hurt his pride. This is something many women can relate to, myself included: needing to tip-toe around some men who have fragile egos and high tempers, this is one of the amazing things about this text, it was written a century ago, and by a man, and yet it is refreshingly feminist. We’re currently going through another feminist revival, and during a time when a lot of machismo and sexual harassment by celebrates is being exposed on social media, and we are losing faith in men in the public eye, it’s hopeful to read a work like The Diaries of Adam and Eve and find a male voice not blinded by ego, not threatened, but with an understanding nature.

Regarding humour, there are certain jokes that aren’t very funny, that are baffling and which I can only presume are related to some event or common joke specific to the time and place Twain was writing in. However there are other amusing scenes, for example interactions with dinosaurs are always funny, in this text and the others we see that Twain has an interest in science and the scientific method, the existence of dinosaurs is proven and Twain is not about to leave them out of Eden, so we get Eve trying to ride a brontosaurus, he “followed her like a pet mountain. Like the other animals. They all do that.” Eve, bright as she is, is also humble, she notices that several animals, particularly the dog and the elephant seem to understand her, and talk, but she does not understand them, and in this case they must be her superiors. In a later text Adam and Eve find a pterodactyl. They name him Terry.

This first section ends on a bit of a sad note, Eve theorizes why she loves Adam, that it is not a product of reasoning, she naively states that she would still love him even if he abused and beat her, words which made me very sad to read. In the end she says she is “only a girl, and the first that examined this matter, and it may turn out that in my ignorance and inexperience I have not got it right.” It is a true portrayal of First Love, of thinking that it’s noble to love someone even if they hurt you, and yet Eve has the wisdom to perceive that her understanding of this may change with time. In a later text Eve describes meeting Adam for the first times and thinking he must be some sort of reptile based on how emotionless and inactive he was.

From Adam’s analysis of their love we have simply, and touchingly, these few words written on Eve’s grave: “Wheresoever she was, there was Eden.”

The above points all relate to the first text in this collection, and it was the one I liked most, the one that gave me what I most expected. I would have loved a full novel written in this style, with themes and events expanded upon, but I can understand how it would have been financially and socially damaging for Twain to write such a book in the early 20th century American south, the novel would have ended up banned and part of book-burnings by religious groups across the country, then and now. It’s a shame, there’s are so many good ideas here, surely somewhere someone has written a novel on Adam and Eve – I should do some research on this.

Now regarding the other six texts, they all have differing tones, they were clearly written with specific different themes in mind, written as one-off literary amusements, imagine the opinions section in a newspaper, with articles bouncing off ideas contemporary to the time. I’m just going to mention a few aspects that I found interesting without really describing each individual article.

Eve writes “For we were children without nurses and without instructors. There was no one to tell us anything.” Throughout all these texts by Twain, God is absent, we hear Adam mention once or twice that he was instructed by God to not eat the fruit, but that’s it. Later when Satan appears, Adam and Eve are full of questions. In this imagining of Eden there is no dialogue between God and Adam and Eve, and before those of you who are more religious rush to protest, why should Twain not write their relationship as it currently is for so many of the Christian faith today? Sure there are some who say they speak to God, have a special relationship with him, but for the vast majority there is no clear two-way conversation going on. As Eves says, they were left alone, they discovered, HAD to discover, things by trial and error.

There’s a moment when just before eating the fruit, Adam and Eve have a discussion about what is Good, what is Evil, what is Pain, Disease and Death. Since they have experienced none of these, since they have seen none of these, they have absolutely no concept of what they could mean. How do you explain colours to someone born blind? So, whilst they were warned that eating the fruit would release a bunch of these (completely unknown) concepts, they decide to go right ahead.

Some other humour to note: Eve writes “the ability to spell correctly is a gift; that it is born in a person, and is a sign of intellectual inferiority. By parity of reasoning, its absence is a sign of great mental power.” As someone with a level of dyslexia myself, I welcome this thought. A good story from Adam is when he and Eve asked Noah what happened to all the dinosaurs? “he coloured and changed the subject.” After some persuasion he blames it on his sons for not carrying out their duties correctly, he then says that the dinosaurs and some other animals were left behind because they knew they would be needed for fossils one day… and also there were some miscalculations regarding the ark…

Amongst the jokes and the theological theories, there’s also commentary on the current state of affairs: Eve muses that the human population is too great in number and will consume the earth to devasting effects. This written by Twain a hundred years ago. Wow, what would he think if he saw us now?

There is a truly gut-wrenching and touching moment when Adam and Eve experience Death for the first time; Cain and Abel fight, Abel is hit, but none of them know what death is, they do not recognize or understand the moment he dies, instead they take him to his bed and wait, and wait, for Abel to wake up. All they comprehend is sleep, and therefore they presume that that’s what’s happening. Eve writes of spending hours by Abel’s side, covering his cold body with wool in a futile attempt to warm his body. There’s another diary entry describing her anguish as Eve begins to suspect that this might be what Death is.

I’d like to end with a small but significant sentence, Adam writes about Eve: “She was never able to keep her composure when she came upon a relative; she would try to kiss every one of these people, black and white and all.” Apart from the fact that all other people of colour are ignored and humanity is basically divided into just white people and black people, and that nowadays the need to specify black and white people in such a sentence almost has the oppose effect and actually sounds racist, but given the time, and the fact that Mark Twain was born in the south, it is a sentence that has good intentions behind it, it is a sentence that is saying: we are all relatives of Adam and Eve, independent of colour. We are all family.

Review by Book Hamster

27 notes · View notes

shewantedtobeasecretgirl · 4 years

Text

The Backstage Pass (Out)

Hey everyone... this is still not an update of Do You Wanna Dance? but another pathetic attempt of me to provide you with PJ-related reading material... Sssooo, there was this post of @gardenofstoney... and I’ve always taken tags verry seriously. I felt addressed since the situation she described sounded absolutely like a perfect fanfic material so I ended up playing with the idea. One thing led to another and a Stone Gossard one-shot happened, which I hereby share with you (with her and @mookiebaelock’s consent). Disclaimer: may contain traces of Jeff Ament!

Ps. I solemnly swear I get Judy out of the shower soon.

„Are you sure you don’t want to move towards the side of the stage? These Vedder-fanatics seem pretty dangerous, I’m not sure I want to be here when they go wild…” Mel asked fidgeting with the setups of her professional camera.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m fine here…” Maggie answered leaning her forehead against her arms that were resting on the barrier. She was dog-tired; she and her best friend, Mel were cueing the whole day to get there at the show of their favorite band, Pearl Jam. Actually, Pearl Jam was their second favorite band but it was the rock group that brought them together. They saw each other’s introduction in the “Pen Pal Wanted” column of Footsteps, the band’s fanzine and the rest was history... And finally, they were there, standing at their precious front row places, waiting for the show to begin…

They agreed on standing in front of the center of the stage since they both had different preferences… Mel was dying to make close shots of her bassist crush (and maybe steal a few smiles and glances from him), while Maggie was interested in the other side of the stage… to be more accurate, in the person who regularly ruled it. Stone Gossard. The absent-minded, aloof alien who played the rhythm guitar parts and who, unfortunately, wasn’t the most responsive member of the band. He was said to be a sarcastic, hilarious and nice guy but at shows he just… didn’t give a shit about the crowd. He was usually absorbed in the songs, following the rhythm with his entire body, marching to the beat or just bobbing his head… but that was all. No interaction, no communication, just the chords. If Maggie had been alone there, she would have picked his side and stayed there as if she had been pinned to the ground… but Mel wanted to stand near Jeff so they made a compromise. Of course, Mel tried every kind of dirty trick to lure her closer to Mike’s and Jeff’s territory and Maggie begged desperately with her irresistible sad puppy face to move in the other direction, after all, if the mountain won't come to Muhammad… and Jeff would bounce around, anyways, she argued. But neither of them could convince the other one so they were stuck in front of the place of Eddie Vedder and they knew they would have to fight hard to be able to keep their position.

“You will defend me, I know.” Maggie cuddled to her friend, letting herself be pulled in a bear hug. She was short and slim, the top of her head barely reached the level of the tall Mel’s chin, that’s why they often joked about themselves being two dogs coming from different species but being allies and best friends forever.

“I’ll defend you just… not now, oh my god, ohmygod, they’re here, that’s him!!!” Mel suddenly let her go frantically taking one picture after another of her main target.

“Okay, I can’t win against Jeff Ament…” Maggie shook her head with a forgiving smile only to discover the object of her admiration appearing on the other side of the stage, walking around with a deadpan on his face. She couldn’t help chuckling when she noticed he was wearing a black socks-dress shoes combo... with light brown shorts. She’d already got used to these weird testimonies of his terrible fashion sense but he always managed to surprise her with a newer unacceptable outfit.

When the singer finally showed up too, the crowd moved forward, pressing the girls against the barrier… and from that moment on, they only had some rest during the slower songs. Not that they wanted to complain, they were singing along the lyrics, screaming, laughing, crying or just squeezing each other’s hand making sure they were not dreaming, they were finally together, having the time of their life, really living their favorite songs. Mel was overly contented with seeing the bass player’s manly moves in the tight tank top he was wearing and the passionate solos and dazed-off moments of Mike pleased both of them too, even if they were within the spitting range of Ed. But as time went by, they both started feeling the depressing thought that this would be over soon, even if they tried to fight against it by bouncing and screaming twice as intensely as before…

When Stone started playing the opening chords of State of Love and Trust, the crowd went completely nuts and Maggie had to tighten her grip not to be drifted… the pressure behind her eased for a second but at once, she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head and lost the touch with the outside world…

***

Mhmmmm… what are these bright lights? I must have died and got in that shining corridor about which people who experienced clinical death always tell…

“Jesus, I go blind…” I mumble… or am I just hearing my own thoughts? Shit, this splitting headache, I’m definitely alive, I must have fallen asleep after taking in my migraine pill.

“Do you prefer low light?” a nasal male voice asks and as I look around, I find myself lying on a couch but I’m not in my own apartment, I don’t know this place. Oh, so I’m in a dream, nice, let’s see where it’s going…

“Yes, please!” I groan covering my eyes.

“Clouds roll by… sorry, bad joke, here, is it better his way?”

I take away my hand from my eyes and let them adjust to the pleasant half-light provided probably by a standing lamp somewhere out of my sight. When did I learn how to change the setting of my dreams? Cool… The owner of the voice takes place opposite me only to make me realize, I’m in a Stone dream, moreover, this time it’s a new one.

“Are you okay?” he’s checking me with the inquiring but still expressionless stare of a toad.

“More or less…” I mumble helplessly. Interesting, I’ve never had such a vivid dream about him, it’s somehow different, like I was in charge, I’ve never felt like this before while dreaming… Familiar melodies provide the musical accompaniment, I have to listen for a few bars until I recognize Yellow Ledbetter… but he’s here… and the music comes from…?

“Are we… at a show?” I ask suspiciously, I’m afraid that despite the realistic surrounding, it’ll turn into an incoherent screenplay written by my subconscious.

“Yes, we are…”

“But how come you’re not playing? You should be on the stage with the others…”

“I don’t feel like playing… I mean in that song, I have basically not much to do, I strum the same chords as Mike, it’s boring. At sound checks, sometimes I beg until I can play the drum parts, I’m a desperate drummer but I love it. But the rhythm guitar part is just… nah. Plus, I had to pee, anyways.”

“Fair enough.” I snicker. He’s such an awkward dork, even in my dreams. “Well, that happens if a musician is too busy with drinking beer at gigs instead of playing”.

“Excuse me?” he startles offended. That’s my favorite thing in dreaming, I can do and say what I’d never dare in real life.

“Do you think we don’t notice when you’re just fudging, walking around with the guitar and use the change of amplifier setups as an excuse to take a few sip of your booze? That doesn’t really count as musical contribution.”

“Ugh, busted. I try not to drink before the show though. Right as soon as I get onstage I start drinking. But come on, I never belch out of key, what’s this if not musical humility?”

I snort shaking my head and keep grinning from ear to ear. If he’s such a hilariously funny guy in my fantasy, how adorable he can be in the reality… I know he used to be an annoying, sarcastic little shit but when PJ got really successful, he mellowed down and made himself to the main target of his irony… The mixture of this down-to-earth humbleness and calm confidence was one of the main reasons why he became my favorite member in the band; in the band that only consists of great, relatable people, by the way.

Maybe I should use the occasion to have a chitchat with him, I could ask him questions about stuff I’ve always wanted to know… even if the answers are only the products of my mind…

“Do you see the world in yellow?”

Okay, maybe that’s not the best start but the colored lenses of his spectacles somehow distracted me and it just slipped out. He reacts with that short, amused eyebrow twitch I love… good job, Maggie.

“It’s a good question! It’s funny, nobody asked that before… but to answer it, I do, it’s like being trapped in that moment of sunset when everything is glowing in that golden light… but to be less poetic, it makes everyone look as if they were Lego figures, they have yellow head, y’know…”

The mentioning of my favorite toy brings back old memories about the times when I was building my own town with eclectic houses that served as the scene of the made-up action stories crafted by my cousin and me.

“I you were a Lego figure, you’d be a bad boy.” I remark with a timid smile and try to ignore the fact that my cheeks are in flames.

“Only if I were a Lego figure? That’s offensive. I was the member of the gang Newton Street Boys. We were the most dangerous guys on whole Capitol Hill, we terrorized the district by taking protection rackets from kindergarten pupils. They were scared to death when we showed up riding our bikes, I liked the banana-seat ones with the high handlebars - maybe a card in the wheel could have been part of it.” he chuckles playfully. “Anyway, why a bad boy?”

“It’s because of the scruff.” I giggle and reach out to pinch his neck but he leans away.

“Please don’t touch me.” he grunts.

Hey, brain, we had an agreement: if I behave decently enough in real life, you won’t throw any obstacles in the way of my naughty tendencies at nights. So if I want to touch Stone’s perfect neck, I’m gonna to do it. Period.

“I said no!!!” he repeats this time angrier when my fingers approach his skin again. What the hell???

“Sorry. I… I just wanted to say that there were those bearded figures… and you could get them mostly from the pirate or the police station series.”

“You mean they had an attachable Lego beard?” he inquires confused and excited at the same time; I’m sure he’s already forgotten the embarrassing intermezzo and is now desperately trying to recall the look of the little yellow dudes.

“Haha, no, it was just painted on their face. There was the moustache, the regular beard and the scruff that basically meant black dots on their face. And the scruffy guys always played the role of the bad boys in my stories. You know, the bank robber, the fleeing prisoner…”

“… the fucked-up musician… we should definitely have a Lego party once!”

“We should…” I repeat and we’re smiling silently at each other for a few seconds… I clear my throat and swallow hard since my mouth got completely dry, shit, it must be that damn gum-shield I have to wear at nights to prevent myself from gnashing.

“You want some water?” he asks walking to a fridge standing at the door.

“Fuck, yes, I’m dying of thirst.” I moan and I mean it.

“Here.” he hands a small bottle to me while he opens a beer can. I rather don’t make any remarks, the show is over, after all… But now that I think into it, maybe the other band members will show up too… I can’t wait!

I lower my head and press the ice cold bottle against my forehead. It feels incredibly good, that blinding pain is still pulsing in my head. As I direct my gaze onto the ground, I can’t help laughing again when I spot his dress shoes and the black socks tucked into them. The hem rolled down around his left ankle making the socks look like they were unmatched.

However thirsty I am, I can only take small sips since I’m already snorting at the next part of this weird vision.

“Anyway… before the others would arrive, there’s one thing we have to discuss.” I begin when I finally manage to force my facial muscles into a serious expression.

“Something that stays between us? Like a dirty little secret?” his face lights up with a boyish smile.

“Kind of, if your socks are dirty…” I roll my eyes. “It’s the footwear.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Of course yours, mine is normal. Matching boots, a totally adequate choice for a rock concert. But yours is just… criminal.”

“Don’t be rude with my shoes, they look good and they are comfy as fuck!” he circles with his feet comically.

“They do but man, look in that mirror!” I point at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. “You look like the mixture of an elementary school boy and a bachelor dressed by his mother. Shorts with dress shoes? How? Why? It’s an obvious no-no!” I scream.

“I have only these ones, sneakers and flip flops with me, which doesn’t leave much variation.” he shrugs briefly.

“You should have chosen the sneakers… as for the “f” word, I’m not even willing to pronounce it.”

“I always wore hiking boots in the earlier times, they were the most comfortable choice but they weren’t compatible with the heat on stage. And then, I got introduced in the magical world of orthopedic sandals but the band somehow vetoed them, I don’t really understand why... I was only allowed to wear them between shows and at soundchecks but at gigs, I had to wear the boots… Once, before a show, maybe in Atlanta, I can’t remember exactly, the sole of my boot separated so I could only wear my sandals… the guys freaked out about my velvet shorts-sweatpants-white socks-sandals outfit and obliged me to wear Jeff’s shoes during the show.” he recalls but I can barely listen to him, his hand talk and the fidgeting alien fingers are definitely more appealing than the image of Birkenstocks worn with socks.

As my eyes are glued to him, I involuntarily start playing with my hair but my fingers land in something sticky. I check them and glance at him helplessly, as if he could help me find out why blood is the next nonsense feature in this scene.

“Fuck, why didn’t you tell me earlier that you’re bleeding?” he shouts and rushes to the fridge.

“Because I didn’t know…” I mutter and can’t form further coherent sentences since he steps back to me with an ice bag and presses it to the back of my head… and he keeps standing opposite me with his arms laced around my neck. I’m desperately trying to look at the ceiling, the ground and the four walls at the same time, anywhere but him…

“This is too embarrassing, I want this to finally end… this is terrible.” I whisper in pain, fixing my gaze on the ugly shoes and working on calming down my hyperventilation with all my nerves.

“Hey, I just wanted to help! Just for the record, we don’t often let passed-out fans in the backstage, you were in bad shape and…”

“No, I mean, thanks and all but this dream… it’s going nowhere, it was funny but you entering into my personal space creates a tension that needs resolution, like a hug or a kiss or anything, this makes just no sense!” I blurt out, basically arguing with myself, the director of the movie.

“What? That doctor could finally arrive, you must have a concussion!” he gently tries to push me back onto to the couch but I shake his hands off me.

“What doctor... wait… the pain… the blood… is this… real?” I flail still hoping he doesn’t exist and suddenly disappears or turns into my real crush or Edge from U2 or whatever.

“You got hit with by a half-empty beer can and you passed out so the security personnel fished you out of the crowd. Since I came back anyway, I suggested that they should lay you down here until they get a doctor. You got a backstage pass by passing out. A backstage pass out.” he tries to ease he situation with a pun but I’m not really in the mood.

“No… the scruff… the shoes… the ki… I can’t believe I said all this bullshit, this is worse than a nightmare…” I bury my face into my palms completely mortified and stumble back towards the couch dizzily. Suddenly, I hear a familiar voice… Mel!!!

***

“I’m not going to repeat this again, my best friend is in that room so if you won’t let me in immediately, I’m going to fuckin’ sue you!!!” Mel pointed with her index finger outraged at the huge guy standing in front of the door of the dressing room. Actually, instead of suing, she wanted to headbutt him in the chest but she knew it would feel like running into a concrete wall. She’d already been arguing with him for like fifteen minutes but the guy was just standing there with folded arms, stoically bearing the threats and the various spells casted on him by the furious girl.

“Hey, Ernie, I think you can let her in, her friend has just woken up, it’d be better if she’s with her when the doctor arrives…” a top of a head with ruffled hair peeked out of the door. The security guard obeyed and silently stepped aside.

“Maggie!!!” Mel shouted and tossed the young man in the door away to get a free way to her friend. “I was so worried about you!!!” she captured her into a rib-breaking hug.

“I’m… I’m okay… Stone took care of me…” Maggie mumbled against Mel’s chest trying to point at the guitarist under her friend’s arm.

“Stone???” Mel screamed making both of them turn around without breaking the hug.

“Yup.” the guitarist waved clumsily with one hand at her, digging his other hand deeply in his pocket.

Maggie managed to tiptoe enough to rest her head on her friend’s shoulder, which allowed her to saw the door opening… only to recognize the other members of the band arriving back from the stage. The small group was guided by Jeff who stopped at the door exchanging a surprised look with the embarrassed guitarist standing in the room.

Maggie started silently shaking of laughter because she could already imagine what’d happen next…

“Uhm… Mel… I’m choking… please let me go…” she acted patting her friend’s back a few times. “I think you should turn back… slowly…” she recommended biting her lips to hide her amusement when she pulled away to see the girl’s reaction.

“Why… what…?” Mel looked back over her shoulder and… due to the bassist’s excellent reflexes, she didn’t land on the ground but in his arms. Jeff stared shocked alternately at the unconscious girl and the other ones, begging for help with his eyes.

“Jesus, not again… “Stone sighed facepalming.” She’s yours, I’m out.”

21 notes · View notes

zelvyth · 4 years

Text

From a very young age it was reinforced that my ADHD was a disability I was meant to overcome rather than a tool I could use to better myself. I didn’t even know that I had been diagnosed, and that my mother had chosen not to medicate me, until I was partway through highschool. By that point I had already begun to give up on ever truly “making it” in life. The hurdles I needed to overcome had demoralized me to the point of near total apathy. Between my sexuality and early coming out in a small town highschool, and my various mental health problems, I felt like no one in the world saw things from my point of view. The last blow to my self esteem came when my grade 12 english teacher, the true decider of fate to any young person, told me my final thesis on Lady Macbeth being one of the greatest example of the flaws in Machiavelli’s “The Prince” was brilliant, but due to formatting and scattered grammar issues, she could give me no higher than a 60%. After years of getting consistent high 90’s in my english classes as well as other subjects, I had failed this extremely crucial essay due to the idiosyncrasies of the most frustrating language known to humankind. I passed that class with a 68, and felt like my fate was sealed. No chance at getting into any University in the country without redoing 5 months of work because one person believed that following the rules was a more important indication of intelligence than original ideas and the ability to make an argument. It crushed me. I admit that I didn’t put in the effort, but I had spent my entire life being told I was incredibly intelligent. It was the one thing I held onto. I felt betrayed by the education system. Though it was also due to many other factors at the time, this contributed to the second of my four suicide attempts. Today, I reject that philosophy.

When a person with ADHD is thinking, they connect ideas in their heads much faster than the average person. It can be confusing and disorienting to the people around them. I constantly have to explain how I got from point A to point B because the points connect automatically in my head. It’s exhausting, so I frequently do not bother to try. It’s extremely helpful when crafting an argument, however it can be debilitating in many aspects of modern life. Things the average person doesn’t think about, can be crippling for me. Without a true passion towards something, my ability to focus becomes hazy and my thoughts become scattered. I spend the majority of the day stuck in my head having conversations with myself instead of doing “normal” things with my time. I have spent my life being told that ADHD is my weakness, today I can tell you with the utmost certainty that it is my greatest strength.

When the international pandemic of the respiratory disease “Covid-19” truly began and the world went into full nationwide lockdown, the bistro that I had, for the most part, happily been employed at shut down. After 8 years of honing my culinary craft certain that my skills, though undervalued, would always be needed somewhere, I was out of a job. Indefinitely. So was most of the country that worked with their hands or, in some capacity, physically with other people. Unless you were able to conduct business through zoom conferences or were a suddenly “essential” employee like a fast food worker, you were left with little to do but sit and think or try desperately to distract yourself from the increasingly troubling world around you. Luckily, to my surprise, the conservative government had pledged to keep us all fed and watered as best they could. What deeply worried me was the knowledge that my friends south of the border, through no fault of their own, and already mostly furious with their government, were not being treated with the same bare minimum of respect. I knew it was a recipe for true disaster and widespread civil unrest as early as march.

I watched while the culture of social media, at least from my own lgbt bias, slowly started to shift and I picked up a lot of the big picture through memes and personally shared anecdotes. Celebrities were being ripped apart as they tried to get our attention again from their huge mansions while people sat at home worried about how to feed their children. Using insensitive phrasing like “we’re all in this together” when they undeniably weren’t. It quickly became a social caste system. The desperately poor trying to creatively make money any way they could. The often needlessly endangered. And the upper class for whom, little had changed besides the inability to do whatever they want at any given time. The lines were very clearly drawn. While the rich bemoaned their accessibility to haircuts, the poor argued with landlords about rent. All the while another group was frequently paid minimum wage to work on the proverbial front lines; flipping hamburgers, being yelled at by the rich because you were out of everything with the supply chain so damaged, or literally saving peoples lives. The anger and frustration quickly took over nearly every form of social media. Subtly, but day by day it grew. There was only so much one could do from inside their apartments, and globally, the havenots found solace and comfort with one another. The narratives of meme culture, which had matured and specialized far beyond the early days of “lolcats” and “trollface” comics, became almost exclusively about mocking the rich and their inability to deal with slight inconveniences.

Nearly every month of 2020 was a new major nationwide crisis and people had little else to do but talk about it or ignore it. The year kicked off with serious threat of a third world war because Donald Trump was tweeting intentionally inflammatory remarks towards the fascist leader of North Korea. All while nearly the entire country of Australia was ravaged by forest/bush fire. January saw a clearly corrupt president unbelievably not be impeached. Sparking outrage among, in my humble opinion, any sane individual. This also exposed, to anyone who knew all the facts, that the systems to hold those in power accountable was clearly broken and corruptible. Towards the end of January, beloved basketball player Kobe Bryant died in a horrible helicopter accident involving his daughter. Late February leading into early March was when global fears over Coronavirus began to be taken extremely seriously by every government in the world, the exception being the United States and the Trump administration. By late April, the country had over a hundred thousand dead, and nearly a quarter of its population out of a job. The irony of this, is that the calls to reopen the country didn’t come from those that had lost their jobs, but the upper class that had grown restless deprived from their usual comforts. Meanwhile we openly mocked them on instagram, tumblr, and twitter. Trying desperately to make light of a horrible situation and bring at least a little levity to their lives. News that a new breed of dangerously fatal hornets had migrated to North America was derided as a filler episode. One of my personal favourite takes on the year as a whole so far was a comparison to the four horseman of the apocalypse. January representing War, February representing Pestilence, March representing Famine, and April representing Death. In fact a lot of meme culture started to take on an extremely apocalyptic vibe. The message for many was clear, and depressing.

Then things started to happen really fast, so fast that for many it would make your head spin looking at it from the outside. It began with a video featuring a white Canadian woman from Waterloo named Amy Cooper that went viral across the globe. In the Ramble area of Central Park in NYC, this woman was filmed by a clearly peaceful, yet insistent, black man named Christian Cooper, no relation, asking her to leash her dog. This is a bylaw of the area. The woman refused and began to become very distressed, roughly handling her dog by the collar. She started dailing 911 and accused the man of assaulting her to the dispatcher. What many understood about this act, and rightfully called her out in outrage over, is that she was using her knowledge of how police handle black people in America to threaten this mans life over leashing her dog. She has been fired, and the shelter has taken her dog back.

Two days later, as I was travelling to my family’s cottage to “get away from it all and unplug”, a friend sent me a snapchat video from Minneapolis. It was on fire. I immediately did everything I could to try to find out what had happened. That, is when I saw the video of 8 minutes and 46 seconds of a police officer with his knee on the neck of another human being. This did not shock, nor suprise me. I had followed the many accounts of police killing people on video since 2014 when I was 16. When the Ferguson protests over Michael Brown’s killing by police officers were broadcast over most of the developed world. I had seen little change, despite Barrack Obama being President. This continued to happen for the next 6 years, though there were no more protests. Some of the people of those original protests that started the Black Lives Matter Movement, went missing over the next several years. Mainly those that had been photographed.

George Floyd’s death, I feel, was the straw that broke the camels’ back. Which is how anyone who has personally experienced police mistreatment and injustice would understand watching that video. A societal contract had been broken. And Minneapolis started to burn down the city that would let this happen to their friend, their neighbour, their father, their brother, and most importantly, their son. The words that chilled me to my very core… And continue to make me cry when I think about. Continue to make me want to punch every cop I run into.The words that have caused me to continue having this argument every day with everyone I know. The words that make me want to scream and rage and burn that country to the ground…. “Mama”

In his dying breaths this man called out to his mother. Who had died 2 years earlier. Who could not come save him. The police officer casually, with his hands in his pockets, knowing he could get away with it, murdered that man while he called out for his dead mother. Suffocated him to death in the middle of a global pandemic driven by respiratory disease. If I had been in Minneapolis that night, I would have helped burn it to the ground.

Something I didn’t expect happened then. Something I didn’t expect when I saw the fires and the rage from mostly black citizens of the city. As I watched Fox News try to turn the story into a conversation about rioting and looting rather than Police accountability. Other peaceful protests started up in other cities. My entire social media feed from multiple sources was filled with people discussing their anger and vowing to protest it. I don’t like to admit that I didn’t see this coming. But on May 26th, as I ravenously tried to keep up from the comfort of a cottage on Crystal Lake Ontario, a spark of hope for humanity that I had lost a long time ago started to ignite.

Something interesting happens when you get most of your information from social media. It either makes you hyper critical of everything you’re told and willing to research anything important, or it makes you willing to believe anything your friends tell you. As the protests kicked off in major cities across America, after months of inactivity, my ADHD kicked into high gear. I used every neuron of my brain power to follow the protests from as many different angles as I could. Most importantly, I followed the story from the people who were at them. That’s what growing up in modern society makes you do. After months if not years if not decades of being lied to for personal gain constantly. It makes you pay attention to the people who have nothing to gain.

I got back to my appartment from my cottage a day later, still glued to my phone. Barely talking, barely eating, barely sleeping. I watched police officers in riot gear throw tear gas into peaceful protests in every city in America. Tear gas, by the way, is an international war crime in combat situations. I watched media with an implicitly right wing bias condemn the protests. Convincing people that looting was worth a war crime. I watched it work. It worked with my own father. It did not work for me. I watched the news from political biases of both sides but took most of it with a grain of salt. That’s what I had been taught to do from as young as 14 by the world I grew up in. The news could give me general information. However, the story was on the ground and I knew from experience that people would try to bury it so I had to watch it as quickly as possible. I watched friends of mine in the states get tear gassed and beaten while exercising their first amendment rights. I watched the news condemn the protests. I was horrified. I watched the peaceful protesters of police brutality in New York get beaten and gassed from a minimum of 30 different perspectives of the people I knew and trusted, and those I didn’t. I watched the peaceful protestors in LA get beaten and gassed from the same amount of perspectives. I watched them throw flash bombs and shoot rubber coated bullets into the faces of my friends in every city in America. I watched the President of the United States order the peaceful protestors in front of the White House to be beaten and gassed so he could have an awkward photo-op with a fucking bible. I watched this for a week straight from every angle available. Day in and day out. Every hour I was conscious, I watched fascism try to grab power in in every city in America. I watched people in powerful positions deny it.

It wasn’t just paying attention to the protests and the news of them explicitly. I wasn’t just filled with horror. I was also watching something wonderfully unexpected happen. I watched my black friends, my gay friends, my asain friends, and my intelligent friends, begin to weaponize social media. I watched them beg all of their friends to do the same. So did I, even though I felt like there wasn’t anything I could really do from cozy liberal Waterloo. I watched us all turn the algorithms against the people who made them. I did everything I could to make sure you couldn’t turn away. I told my gay white friends condemning the actions of protestors that his rights came from a riot. I watched them shrink in fear of my voice. My father told me I was getting caught up in left wing rhetoric. I tore his arguments to shreds. He told me broad angry statements don’t do anything. I told him broad angry statements create the conversation we’re having. Resistance is a highway with many lanes, and I knew my lane.

You grow up, especially in my age, especially when you’re gay, especially when you are exposed to a lifetime of stories of rebellion against tyranny, hearing about the power of resistance. As I marched in Waterloo with over thirty thousand people I didn’t know, I realized that I have never truly understood that power. How it surges through your body like electricity as you scream until your voice is hoarse. It’s a high better than any drug known to man, than any pride parade where I was pandered to by corporations for hours. It took my fear, and my anger, and my helplessness and turned it into raw power exploding from my body. I continued to watch people I knew deny reality.

The protests grew. They spread across the world like wildfire. I went to facebook, a place I avoid because I don’t agree with the majority of people on it, and told anyone who would listen to me that this is what Pride means. What it truly means to be proud of your community. Not a rainbow flag in a store window, not a corporation asking you to buy it’s rainbow backpack. But turning apathy in face of evil into raw unbridled electricity. I watched the protests spread to Montreal and Toronto, I watched the police mishandle things there too. I watched violence perpetuated by the state against my friends, people I’ve known for years. The power I felt merely grew. It grew with every flash grenade and bullet and tear gas canister shot at my friends. It will not subside till this is over or until I die. I’m going to spend the next decade giving up the comfortable life of good food, great drinks, and fantastic company that I found in the restaurant industry. I’m going to spend a decade getting my Law degree to fight for every last one of us in the courtroom because that is a place I can make it count.

Today is June 8th of the year 2020 and I began writing this piece at Noon, it is now 4:11 P.M. I have done zero editing and I refuse to. I submit this as my revised final essay. I want to know when you got behind the protests. Because if it was as you were reading this, I deem you unworthy to judge my critical thinking skills. If it was yesterday I think you should be ashamed of yourself. I was with them from hour one. You should have been too. How dare you spend years teaching children about racism and oppression. How dare you tell me that I’m not worthy of higher education in any form. Telling children that wikipedia is unreliable as a source is idiotic, it’s one of the most peer reviewed encyclopedia’s to ever exist. How dare you tell me and the young adults you teach that you don’t give out scores higher than ninety percent. What is the point of forcing teenagers to write in cursive. Why must I live the experiences you write about in your precious properly formatted essays. In this country a 68 is two percent shy of getting into any University. It’s sentencing an intelligent person with an array of disabilities a life of believing they have no power. Despite my own mistakes at the time and the amount I have grown as a person since, I will hold you personally accountable for that.

As a closing statement, to every English teacher in this province, no, to every English teacher in the great country of Canada. Think very hard about when exactly you put your full support behind this movement. Because your curriculum is outdated, and absolutely useless in the real world. And your racism is showing.

Post Script.

There is no bibliography of unbiased sources because all sources are biased. You have a supercomputer in your pocket and this should all be public information. Look it up.

#blm #nojusticenopeace #adhd #adhd brain #protests #canada #manic

11 notes · View notes

introvertguide · 4 years

Text

Bringing Up Baby (1938); AFI #88

The current film on the AFI list is touted as the most screwball of all screwball comedies: Bringing Up Baby, (1938). It is a film that was adapted for the screen with the great Katharine Hepburn in mind. According to the writers, it fit her personality and sense of humor well and, with the addition of a lovable Cary Grant, was the perfect comedy vehicle. And audiences at the time hated it. It was a total flop during its initial box office run, director Howard Hawkes was fired from the studio, and Katharine Hepburn was labeled box office poison to the point that she had to buy out her contract because the studio would not give her any more work. Now the film is celebrated as favored comedy from the old Hollywood era. AFI listed it as the #88 greatest American film and the #14 best comedy film. So is this movie any good? Audiences in different eras disagree so I wanted to find out for myself. First I want to do the usual review of the plot (although this is a screwball comedy and it isn’t intended to make any sense) so let’s get the bold warnings out of the way...

SPOILER ALERT!!! THERE REALLY ISN’T A LOT TO SPOIL IN A SCREWBALL COMEDY BUT I DON’T WANT TO GET YELLED AT!!! PER USUAL, YOU SHOULD JUDGE A MOVIE FOR YOURSELF SO CHECK THE FILM OUT BEFORE READING FURTHER!! Alright, moving on...

The film begins with a bumbling paleontologist named David Huxley (Cary Grant). He is a man consumed by his work, yet he is somehow engaged to be married to a woman that is seemingly obsessed with taking second fiddle to his job. For the past four years, he has been trying to assemble the skeleton of a Brontosaurus but is missing one bone: the "intercostal clavicle". He is also tasked with impressing a potential patron named Elizabeth Random (May Robson), who is considering a million-dollar donation to his museum.

The day before his wedding, David meets Susan Vance (Katharine Hepburn) while attempting to solicit donations from the lawyer of Ms. Random. Susan callously plays the wrong ball which distracts David from attending to his potential patron and then she stubbornly wrecks David’s car while she tries to get to her own vehicle. Later that night, she distracts David again while he attempts to have a drink with the man from the golf course and the encounter ends up with both characters tending to ripped clothes in public. Susan seems to like to cause trouble and believes that her traits are fun. These qualities soon embroil David in several frustrating incidents.

The next day, Susan's brother Mark has sent her a tame leopard named Baby from Brazil. Its tameness is helped by hearing "I Can't Give You Anything But Love". Susan ignorantly thinks David is a zoologist and manipulates him into thinking she is being attacked by the animal. He does not call the police but goes to Susan and she bullies him into joining her in moving the leopard to her country home. Complications arise when Susan falls in love with him and tries to keep him at her house as long as possible, even hiding his clothes, to prevent his imminent marriage.

David's prized intercostal clavicle is delivered, but Susan's aunt's dog George takes it and buries it somewhere. When Susan's aunt arrives, she discovers David in a negligee. To David's dismay, she turns out to be potential donor Elizabeth Random. A second message from Mark makes clear the leopard is for Elizabeth, as she always wanted one. Baby and George run off. The zoo is called to help capture Baby. Susan and David race to find Baby before the zoo and, mistaking a dangerous leopard from a nearby circus for Baby, let it out of its cage.

David and Susan are jailed by a befuddled town policeman, Constable Slocum (Walter Catlett), for acting strangely at the house of Dr. Fritz Lehman (Fritz Feld), where they had cornered the circus leopard. When Slocum does not believe their story, Susan decides the best cover would be to tell the police that they are members of gang. This distracts the police long enough to allow her to escape to go and find Baby to prove she and David are innocent. The potential patron Ms. Random comes to the jail to free Susan and is embroiled in the plot when she talks about her leopard and is locked up. Eventually, the lawyer/golf partner shows up to verify everyone's identity. Susan thinks she found the correct leopard but unwittingly drags the highly irritated circus leopard into the jail. David saves her, using a chair to shoo the big cat into a cell.

Some time later, Susan finds David working on his dinosaur skeleton alone. He was dumped by his fiancée because of Susan and he is now single. He did not get the donation but finds that Random gave the money to Susan and now Susan wants to donate the money to the museum. David confesses that his time with Susan was the best time he has ever had and that he loves her. At this point, Susan inadvertently destroys the dinosaur that David has worked on for 4 years because she won’t listen to David’s warnings. He gives up and kisses Susan, resigned to the life that will come with loving this woman. The end.

After watching this film, I did some research and I can see why Hepburn was labeled box office poison following this movie. She apparently ruined many of the takes for this film which cost a lot of money. What is more, the director and the lead actors had overtime clauses in their contracts so everyone was paid about double what was initially agreed upon because of the actors fooling around. The film might have broken even or perhaps had a modest gain, but Hepburn caused extra costs to the production to the point of major financial loss. This was a point of lean times in America, so an actor that commanded hefty pay, caused expensive delays, and did not draw in a big audience was poison to a studio. She obviously went on to do great things for film and this work was eventually embraced by audiences, but Katharine Hepburn needed to be humbled and the reaction to this movie did just that.

I was surprised that there was a real leopard (tame of course, but still) on set with the actors. There were some shots in which the actors were filmed separately from the animal and everything was overlaid, but there were many scenes with the actors directly interacting with the leopard. Most famously, Hepburn’s character was talking on the phone while the leopard walked around her legs and the animal started to get rough with her feet. If you watch Hepburn’s face closely, she is not smiling but has darting eyes watching closely over the big cat. Apparently, the leopard lunged at Hepburn at first meeting and she did not really like the animal.

So let me get to the point of my personal feelings about the movie. I have watched it twice for this review: once straight forward and once with commentary by Peter Bogdanovich. I have looked at the reviews as well. It didn’t help. I and both my parents hated this movie. We have watched 41 movies on the AFI top 100 so far and this has been unanimously our least favorite. We do not like screwball comedies and this is famously “the most screwball of all screwball comedies.” I will not say that this film is bad because it obviously has a ton of fans, but I subjectively hated it. Let me explain before I get the hate mail.

Susan Vance is my kryptonite. She is a bullying socialite that does not care about anyone but herself and only does what she wants. She is manipulative towards a guy that just wants to build his dinosaur, and she wrecks his relationship, affects his job, ruins his car, endangers his life, and destroys his work. For some reason, in the movie world he falls in love with her for it. Susan Vance is the kind of person that has affected people negatively since forever. I guess it is funny because it is relatable? “Yeah, I have had my life ruined by human bulldozers like that. Wouldn’t it be funny if that person took a personal interest in plaguing me at every turn?” I am an introverted nerd and I have been harassed by the Susan Vances of the world. I don’t find them funny and actively avoid people like Susan Vance. I don’t want to see them in my movies, especially as the hero/love interest.

What hurt me was that Katharine Hepburn was apparently like this in her behavior at the time. She would talk off camera during filming and ruin takes. She would ad lib lines that she thought were funny and goof around with Cary Grant costing the studio hundreds of thousands and lots of lost time. It sounds like she was simply oblivious to the efforts of others. Her behavior as an actress and the character in the movie should not be rewarded. In film world, this bull in a china shop still gets her man. In the real world where a nation is recovering from a devastating financial crisis and facing a possible world war, nobody wants to see that garbage. As was appropriate, everybody got fired and the audience did not want to shell over their money. I am glad the film flopped and say it was deservedly so.

OK. I got that off my chest so let me now set aside my personal bias and answer the standard questions more objectively. Does this film belong on the AFI 100? Yes. It is maybe the best example of the screwball comedy of the 30s and, according to the Bogdanovich commentary, is a great example of the quick pace dialogue with double meaning that defined the time. I also think it is good to remember what happens when actors completely disregard their employers and their audience. Even the great Katharine Hepburn had to make a comeback when her audience turned on her. The placement of the film very low on the list seems appropriate to me as well. So then...would I recommend it? Subjectively, heck no. I found the movie frustrating to the point of being angry. Objectively, yes. A lot of people find whacky antics funny and any fan of shows like The Honeymooners or I Love Lucy and movies with The Three Stooges or The Marx Bros would likely enjoy this film. It has a 90% audience rating on Rotten Tomatoes and Roger Ebert called it one of the 102 movies to see before you die since it is a perfect example of the genre. It seems like a movie most people would enjoy. Let me back pedal slightly and note that I have full respect for people who enjoy the film and I am glad cinema brings you some laughs. However, I hate the film with a passion and never plan on watching it again.

#bringing up baby #katharine hepburn #hollywood elite #over budget #susan vance #cary grant #screwball comedy #30s #old hollywood #afi movies #introvert #introverted #leopard #howard hawks

19 notes · View notes

chickenscratchxx · 4 years

Text

gen Z blm movement rant

By: chicken.scratch

Let me preface this rant first off by stating that I have no dog in this fight. I don't indulge politics. I don't indulge Donald trump. I don't indulge any government related issues. Why you ask? Getting involved in politics is highly addictive. Hunter S. Thompson is quoted saying that it is "better than sex". My dislike for politics had humble beginings that stem from my AP gov teacher giving me C, due to a clash that happened a couple months prior to finals. I'm an asshole so when you say something boneless that offends my peers and I and that which involves our pot smoking habits, be ready to go on the defensive, because Jordan is coming at you thirty eight hot. So lets dig in.

These days it seems that you can't get away from racial issues. Everywhere you go. Whether its social media, TV, YouTube, even three blocks from my house there is constant protesting. I just keep my shades on, headphones in, and grab my pack of cigs and leave. Now you can look at that and say "Fuck you Jordan your white. You have no idea what its like to be oppressed ". I would agree with you. The only oppression I have ever seen is the unpopularity involving my writing. Yet this post has nothing to do with either white black or yellow. It does however have everything to do with trends and how they can take your power without even knowing it. But for the sake of a current event we are going to use the blm movement.

The first time the blm movement took presence in my life was after the Trayvon Martin murder. At the time I was to ignorant to take a side. My parents raised my little brother and I with hardly any conditioning on race, sexuality, or political points of view. They are two true free spirits who always believed their greatest parenting lessons stem from unconditional love. So as long as I have been walking this earth, color was just strictly a color. Nothing more. Nothing less. To this day I have never looked a persons skin color and seen demographics, income levels, prejudice is non existent.

Today as I scroll through social media at least fifty percent of all the content I see involves; cop arrest gone wrong, blacked out photos, and Becky flipping birds to a row of cops trying to enjoy their food. The interesting thing about all of these post is that seventy five percent of the people posting them are white. It is one massive conglomeration of people who have no first hand experience with issues that they are talking about.

This blm movement reminds me of the still present juul/vape movement. Millions of young Americans are now addicted to nicotine because social media made it cool. I myself am addicted to nicotine. I smoke a pack a day and vape nearly a pod a day. But I'm a fucking junkie and I tell you right now I fucking hate smoking. It will take me out of this world one day. Yet I've accepted that. That was a lie I thoroughly enjoy smoking. The packing of the freshly wrapped pack, the lighter, and the chain smoking. Use what I love about smoking as a metaphor if you will. Gen Z loves the freshly wrapped drama, the violence, and the non stop continuum of the back and forth arguments between antagonist and protagonist. So the next time you're on YouTube, grab a bag of popcorn and get comfortable because it is nothing short of the Roman gladiator era of pleasing the people with a distraction to keep their thoughts off how shitty their actual life is. Now every time I drive through Atlanta and someone is pulled over there is an entire social justice pose just waiting for the other shoe to drop and the cop do something he shouldn't be doing.

This concept of distraction is also at large with the covid-15. I've had session plenty of women who tested positive within a susceptible period of time. I don't have it. Now by no means am I a conspiracy theorist but the idea of distraction gives a sense of purpose to our lives. Life is boring for the heard if there is nothing to be concerned about. We live in a world of fear. So every time you post something about civic or the blm movement just know that you're feeding the beast. The beast is whatever is trending on Twitter in this moment. The beast is as fluid as water and has the appetite of Godzilla. It feeds off negative energy and pushes you, my mom, and Becky my next door neighbor all into a defensive lets retweet the negativity instead of finding a solution mode. Its a cheap purpose to some idea that is going to be stamped over by a even dumber idea in a matter of days. So if you're one of the people searching for social injustice every single place you go, FUCK YOU. But you make my job fun so more power to you.

-yours truly

2 notes · View notes

mina-van1104 · 4 years

Text

🌊Waterfall hike with my beautiful 🌸mom & fifth (5th) time up here in Carson on my mom day’s off work yesterday. Then biked 🚴‍♀️in Carson City yesterday, Sunday. Afterwards hungout with the family with my Father & 1 of my aunts, my dogs, cat, & rabbit. Keep the earth clean.

🌎Climate change is real. Nature & animals are most important. Some animals will become extinct one day because of peoples’ carelessness & climate change.

Also like I said I was BORN & raised in Nevada (Amricans) family lived in Nevada for forty-one (41) years, SOME (not all of you) usually from out of state need to be nicer or get the f*ck out if my city-most of you CALIFORNIANS & only the NEWER neighbors are such nuisances in Nevada! You guys are jealous, so shut up of get out of my beautiful city & stop ruining with the bigotry & racism.

How dare those out out of staters move to my city like that when I am the TRUE Nevadan & family lived here literally for 41 (forty-one years) & my immediate family living in same house for thirty 30 years before I was even born.

How dare those out of staters ruin my city. To all the ignorant/bigotted newer neighbors who moved in my city- this is MY city so don’t you dare think you could say anything indecent & attack our house just because we are obviously way better than you guys! We’re successful & beyond above you guys.

To the newer neighbors/bigotted/racist people belittling & bullying someone does not make you look better, it makes you look like a stupid low life loser & we don’t have any low lives nor losers in our family & nor do I hangout with any low lives or losers. Teach kids to never encourage racism & stand up in anyway against racism. Teach them never be quick to jusge someone by how they look or what different langauges they speak. Had enough of SOME of those out of staters!! Well anyways, was a good trip to Carson to escape chaos though. Nevada will always be my home though.

They need to make a law in Nevada that only people who have family in Nevada, born in Nevada, or have family who lived in Nevada for more than ten years can move to Nevada!! No more people from out of state can move in! Those out of staters literally almost always causing trouble & I’ve had enough!! 👊🏼 Glad I don’t have any losers in my family & that we’re not fake like some people in Nevada & in life. Spread kindness. Also, please keep wearing masks & wash hands frequently with soap. Hope y’all have a good day. 💕💯

•

*Nevada BORN & Raised & some of my big families living in Nevada for 41 (forty one) years now with mixed family of Asians/ Caucasians with American Veterans🇺🇸, Doctors, acupuncturists, News Reporter, Nurses in our- blood-related family & family in-laws, & mixed Asian/small portions of European Descents,etc., it’s not Democrats Versus Republicans & it’s not about which party winning, so do what’s right for ALL people & do not vote for Trump. * Please vote for Biden (A genuinely good person & very well-educated).

I’m also here reminiscing things I’m proud of: Like I said, with my 2 college degrees, Bachelors Degree I graduated with & 2 extra medical licenses, & me always being an overachiever before most people my age before 22 years old in many different areas of life, compassion & being respectful to ALL people is the most important!

Reminiscing that I received 2 athletic scholarships & did Cross-Country & Track 6 years straight & was always on Varsity. I still compete in 5Ks & half marathons. Also gymnastics/dance singing since I was 4! Very proud of all my accomplishments/awards in life! Always will! 👊🏼 Always stay positive what ever happens.✨

For those of you who know me well, I've been singing since I was 4. From elementary school singing choirs to Honors Choir to trying out and making it in "The King and I" musical at Reed High School (May 2001) when I was 8 years old.

From talent shows to 3 years of being in Auditioned Women's Choir Prima Voce in High School then made it into UNR's University Auditioned singing choir, Chamber Chorale. I am so proud of myself! Those were wonderful and fun memories. I will always love singing! Always and forever!

I’d like to repeat, I was Nevada born & raised, Like I said, I was literally born on Election Day (on the year a president was elected on the day I was born. I’m 27.💁🏻‍♀️-it was President Bill Clinton). Also on my birthday November 4, 2008, 💙Barack Obama (one of the best presidents) was elected president on my birthday.

Remember to never encourage racism. When you witness any racism, stand up for them in some way. Don’t be ignorant. Be kind to one another & never be quick to judge someone by how they look. Trump is the one who escalated all the racism- please vote for BIDEN whether you’re a Democrat or Republican.

⁣⁣# Selfie 📸 # Waterfall # hiking # Splits 🤸🏻‍♀️🤸🏽‍♀️ # nature # biking # Biden2020 # PostUniversityGraduates # PostUniversityOfNevadaGraduates # StayPositive 🌸 # athletic # NevadaProud # NativeNevadan 📸 # NevadaBornAndRaised # HomeMeansNevada # Nevada # UNRnevadaAlumnaMay2016🎓 🐾 # NevadaAlumni # PostUniversityGraduate 🎓 # WolfPackAlumna 🐾 # BachelorsHealthSciences # PublicHealth # Nurse🐺 # 2CollegeDegrees # 2ExtraMedicalLicenses # AllAccomplished 👊🏼 # AlreadyAllAchieved # TrueAccomplishments # integrity # honesty # humble # kind ✌🏼 # RenoBornSparksNative @SparksNevada @ CarsonCity

2 notes · View notes

mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

Always family; John Deacon x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Hello all, I just wanted to share with you all ANOTHER Queen fic. Now this one here is pretty long so I’m sorry not sorry for the longness of this fic but it had to be done. Thought I’d dip my toe into the platonic Queen fics (besides my Rock Angel series) since requests will open up soon. I just want to catch up on all the requests that came to me over Winter break that the anons have been waiting so patiently on before I accept any new ones. So in this fic you the lovely reader are the cousin to this Disco man, but you both act more like brother-sister as you will soon see. Hope you all enjoy this little fic :)

Warnings: Family abandonment (IF THIS TRIGGERS ANYONE PLEASE DON’T STRAIN YOURSELF TO READ IT), angst, swearing, fluff, Paul prenter (Ugh) and the loveable and NASTY QUEENIES :) Enjoy my lovely darlings ;)

Taglist

@geek-and-proud

_____________________________________________________

*Nov. 1974, Live at the Rainbow*

It was another successful concert at the Rainbow theater. Queen had once again performed a killer performance, and Brian now finally feeling better after his hepatitis scare knew he was ready to get back on stage and he performed his heart out to make up for what he had to miss while in the hospital.

The three main lead vocalists Freddie, Brian and Roger were heading towards their dressing room when they noticed someone sitting outside the door of their dressing room. She appeared to be about 15 possibly 16, had long (h/c) with platinum blonde highlights. She wore a white crop top shirt, black leather jacket, denim blue jeans and high-heeled boots similar to what their bass player always wore.

They also took notice around her neck was a camera and she was also fiddling around with it, instantly knowing exactly how to operate it. Freddie turned to Roger and teased out.

“Look Roger darling, the girl you ordered finally came.” Roger hit Freddie’s shoulder and told him to fuck off while Brian walked up to the girl and asked.

“Excuse me?” She looked up from her camera and they also saw that she was blowing up a bubble from the gum that she had been chewing. She deflated the bubble as Brian said, “Can we help you?”

“Oh sorry I was just waiting for Deacy.” She responded before going back to her camera.

“You know John?” asked Roger.

“Do I know him? Of course I know him he—oh I get it. Typical Deacy, never likes to talk about me to his friends, thinks I’ll embarrass him or something.” She started off before trailing off into a teasing tone. The three Queen members were still confused to just who exactly this young girl was. She then gestured to herself as she continued, “I’m (Y/n) Deacon, Deacy’s cousin.” She then dug into her jean pocket and innocently held out a packet of gum as she said, “Gum?”

*My POV*

Hello people and beyond! The name’s (y/n) Deacon. I was born March 7th, 1959. And before you ask, yes I am related to John Richard Deacon bass player of Queen. He’s my older cousin but if you ask me he’s been more like a brother to me than my cousin.

In fact it was Deacy who got me interested in electrics, so much so that I’ve taken photography classes in school and then once I get into University I hope to major in photography. In fact the camera I always carry with me around my neck, Deacy actually got it for me three years ago on my 13th birthday.

I had heard about his little band from aunt Lillian and of course from my friends. Now that Queen is starting to gain that spotlight of fame, I took the first bus I could in order to check and see if my dear Deacy hadn’t forgotten about me.

I was now sitting on the couch in the guys’ dressing room, Freddie was sitting close to me and I spoke up.

“Okay see that’s where I draw the line with cats, I mean c’mon who would want a hairless cat? It’s like you just turned a cat inside out and said, ‘here’s your new baby’. Plus if you leave it in the winter it’ll turn into a cat-cicle. But if you leave it out in the summer heat then it’ll be a sunburnt naked mole rat.”

“Brian, Roger make note of this that we are keeping this girl because she gets cat logic.” Freddie claimed as he wrapped an arm around me bringing me close in a one armed hug. I smiled and blushed slightly hiding my head bashfully. We soon heard the door open and finally entering inside the dressing room was the Disco man himself.

“Deacy darling you’ve got some serious explaining to do.” Freddie proclaimed as if he were giving a proclamation. Wide-eyed and startled like a deer in headlights he looked between his bandmates and that’s when Brian spoke up.

“Like why you didn’t tell us about your cousin?” I then made myself known by waving to John and telling him hi. Finally taking notice of me, Deacy smiled and came over to me while I met him half way and the two of us hugged each other after not seeing him for a good couple of years now.

“What are you doing here?”

“What you didn’t think I’d miss the opportunity to miss my cousin performing on stage and finally get to see what all the fuss was about, now did yah?” I teased as I playfully shoved him.

“Did my mum drop you off?”

“Well actually I sorta begged her to get me a bus pass here to London.”

“You mean to tell me you came here all by yourself?” he demanded.

“Deaks I’m not a little girl anymore, I can take care of myself.” He sighed and said as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

“I know you can, you know I just worry about you. Old habits die hard you know?”

“Gosh Deacy, who would’ve thought you were so overprotective? And here I thought you were the docile one.” teased Roger.

“Piss off Roger.” Defended Deacy.

“So (y/n), I’m just looking at these photographs of the concert and they are really good. Did you always want to be a photographer?” Brian said trying to change the conversation.

“Thanks Brian. And to answer your question not always. But I got interested in it at around 10 maybe 11 years old. It just started off taking pictures of the family dog Buddy and some birds, a few family outings but then when I turned 13 that’s when my interest in photography began to rise. In fact Deacy gave me this exact camera and showed me how to work out all the technical stuff with it for my 13th birthday.”

“I must say these are impressive. I would’ve thought a professional would’ve taken these.” Stated Roger as he picked up a photo.

“Aww come on you guys…..”

“No we’re serious (y/n) dear, you’ve got a gift.” Freddie said.

“That’s what I’ve always been telling her.” Said Deacy with a warm smile as he playfully ruffled my hair. I smiled at them and thanked them.

For the rest of the night I got to know the rest of the members of Queen, not just as rock stars, but as my cousin’s best friends. Most people know them as these four handsome young men trying to become famous rockstars, but I got to know their true selves. Brian the smart astrophysicist interested in all things regarding the universe who made his dissertation about stardust.

Roger who is known to most as the ‘heartthrob, womanizing, air-headed and stubborn drummer’ when actually he’s an intelligent person who first started off with dentistry (to which both Deacy and Brian teased him about) but then changed his profession to biology. The first drummer to ever truly tune his drums before playing them.

And of course the front man Freddie Mercury. Most people think he’s always the extravagant person both on and off stage, when in reality he’s just a humble, loving human being who studied design, loves cats and has his insecurities just like everyone else.

I knew from that night that I was going to see these boys not just as my cousin’s friends, but also an extended family.

3 years passed and any chance I got I would visit the boys during holiday breaks or stay with Deacy during the summers. I even got the chance to go with them to Rockfield farm when they recorded “A Night at the Opera” because I was assigned a summer project for my photography class. And when EMI saw my pictures, they actually hired me an internship with them to be the band’s official photographer.

Now that I am done with high school, I’m just waiting for the autumn to start so that I can officially start my University career in photography. The boys have definitely given me good practice for my camera work, doing pictures both on stage and for behind the scenes whether through the tours or them in the studio recording.

They’re rowdy and silly but it’s awesome to see them work and I actually get to see the genius machine that is Queen on how they create their music.

We were currently in the studio and the boys were recording their newest song “We are the Champions”. I was getting the best pictures that I could that the record company was asking for me. Some of the pictures included them in the booth rehearsing, or Freddie along with the sound technician at the sound table messing with the buttons and track, getting it to fit his vision.

Since they were on a strict deadline to get the song recorded, it meant more hours in the studio, hours that not even I could last very long with. I yawned softly when I felt a tap at my shoulder. I looked up to see Deacy standing beside me.

“You ready to head home?” I yawned again and nodded tiredly. “Alright missy, let’s get you home and into bed.” I moaned tiredly and raised my arms out and said.

“Carry me.”

“Are both your legs broken?” he teased. I let out a tired whine.

“You’re mean Deacy.”

“C’mon you get up. I know you can do it.”

“Too tired to get up.” I groaned.

“Then allow me your royal majesty.” I heard Freddie say as I was then picked up princess style and I wrapped my arms around Freddie’s neck. “That better darling?”

“I love you Fred.” I stated bluntly.

“You’re going to spoil her too much Fred.” Deacy said.

“Oh come off it Deacy, she’s a darling and she’s been working so hard she deserves this.”

“Yeah Deacy, I deserve this. Why can’t you be more like Freddie?”

“Because I know when to set limits for you.” I stuck my tongue out at him and then I was carried out of the studio and placed into Deacy’s Volvo. Deacy followed suit and we all bid each other a goodnight and soon Deacy pulled out of the parking lot and drove us back home.

We both entered quietly so that we didn’t wake up either Veronica or baby Bobby. Deacy and I kissed each other goodnight and I went to my guest room and got out of my jeans, didn’t even bother to get out of my shirt and just plopped on my bed and went to sleep.

The next day was like any other day, the guys had just gotten done finishing the final touches to “We are the Champions” and we were all celebrating. Roger uncorked the bottle of wine and poured the guys a drink while I got some non-alcoholic cider, but I knew that Roger would let me sneak in a sip of wine when Deacy wasn’t looking. As we were all gathered around just sharing stories and what not, it was then Paul came in and said.

“Freddie, boys there’s someone here to see you.” Roger and I looked at each other and he muttered.

“Hopefully the police to take him away for being an utter annoyance.” I snickered softly which made Paul glare at me and that’s when he said.

“Come on in Mrs.” And soon walking into the studio was someone I thought I’d never see again. My body tensed up and my heart sunk, it felt like I had gotten punched in the gut and had all the air knocked out of me as a blast from the past came back and stood before this very room.

Her familiar (h/c) now shorter than I remembered but she still kept it the same style, her (e/c) looking right at me. She looked a bit more run down than from what I remembered, probably got involved in drugs since that’s the big thing nowadays.

“Hello (y/n).” She started off. I stood up and just glared at her. “God you’ve—you’ve grown up so fast.” She tried to lighten up the mood. Really? How dare she come back after all these years. In fact how did she find out where I was? I walked out of the room avoiding another glance at her and slammed the door loud behind me.

*John’s POV*

“So…..where are the groceries?” I demanded.

“John please—”

“No, no I really want to know. Because you’re finally here, but I see no groceries.” I stood up and continued as I walked up towards her, “I mean that’s what you said when you dropped her off with mum, your sister. But news flash Katherine. You’re 15 years too late!” I now stood face to face with her, hell I almost lost my composure and wanted to hit her so hard.

“Whoa, whoa Deacy take it easy! Take it easy!” Brian said pulling me away from her.

“Deacy darling you’ve never acted this way before, just who is this woman?”

“Unfortunately she’s my mum’s younger sister. My aunt……”

“(Y/n)’s mother.” She finished.

“No, no, no! You lost that right when you abandoned her that day!” I snapped.

“Deacy calm down, calm down.” Brian said as he placed his hand to my chest trying to get me to calm down, but at this point I knew nothing would.

“Why are you here? How did you even know she’d be here?” I demanded.

“I’ve known how close you both were when you were kids, so I figured that she’d be with you. And when I heard about where Queen does their rehearsals I thought I’d get clearance, thanks to Mr. Prenter, he allowed me to come and see her.”

Bloody hell of course Paul would play a part in this. He’s always hated (y/n) hanging around, talking about her like she was a distraction from the band. Of course (y/n) never took anything lying down.

Much like Roger, hell in fact all her life when she needed and wanted to, she could be a right up trickster. Her pranks were always over the top but brilliantly planned and well executed.

I would know because I was unfortunately a victim to some of those pranks, but then again I also helped form some of those pranks on say like heart-breaking, back-stabbing boyfriends, stab in the back best friends, you know those types of people.

I then left the booth and tried to find (y/n). I searched and searched but I couldn’t find her anywhere, that was until I heard sniffling from the janitor’s closet.

I pressed my ear against the door and I knew without a doubt that (y/n) was behind the door. I lightly knocked on it and she stopped crying and choked out.

“Please go away.” I knew words wouldn’t convince her to come out, so I did the next best thing that always seemed to at least put a smile on her face, even when I couldn’t see it.

I went into the next room and managed to find some paper and a pen and I raced back towards the janitor’s closet and wrote something down on the paper before sliding it under the door.

*My POV*

How could she? How could she suddenly decide to show up after all these years? How the hell did she even find me? I kept crying all alone in the janitor’s closet, having the broom against the handle so that no one could come in. I heard a knock so I just told whoever it was to go away.

I heard footsteps walking away so I figured they got the message, but then I heard footsteps again and then something was tossed underneath the crack of the door. It was a piece of paper. I slowly crawled up halfway out of my spot to grab the sheet of paper and unfolded it to see a very familiar little rhyme.

Oh won’t you come out little Dale.

Don’t you weep and tell me your tale.

Deacy. Whenever I was so upset that I would hide away in either a closet or under the sink, he’d always write me a silly but comforting note that always first opened with those two lines.

Sometimes that was all it took for me to open the door and talk to him, other times we’d just pass notes back and forth between the door until I was ready to come out. Since there wasn’t a writing utensil at all in here, I was forced to remove the broom and slowly open the door.

The first thing I saw his hand being held out for me to take. I slowly reached my hand out from the door and took his hand. He always knew that whenever I got this upset to never push me. I felt his thumb rub and stroke over the top of my hand, his other fingers gently intertwining with my own in various different ways trying to give me the best comfort he could till I finally had the courage to come out.

Finally I opened up the closet.

I immediately hugged Deacy and he hugged me back and I whimpered out.

“I’m sorry I pulled a Roger move.”

“Shhhh. It’s alright my little nightingale. Unlike Roger’s temper tantrum over a strange car song, you have a better excuse. I’m so sorry love I had no idea it would be her.”

“I know you didn’t have anything to do with this. It’s just—”

“No I know. I know. Believe me love, I gave her a piece of my mind after all these years. All for you.”

“Why couldn’t you have been my real brother Deacy?” he softly laughed and said as he stroked through my hair.

“I may be your cousin by blood (n/n). But to me you’ve always been the sister I’ve always wanted. And that’ll never change, you hear me?” he cupped my face into his hands. He wiped my tears as I nodded and hugged him, burying my face into his shoulder. “We’ll get through this together dove, just like we’ve always done.”

Days passed and Deacy made sure that if my mum came anywhere near me trying to start a conversation, either he or the lads would come in and save me with a ‘task’ to do, just to spare me more agony and pain, especially since she kept coming over to the studio every day and was always in the same room as I was in.

However one day when guys all had to record their parts for a new song, I was looking at all my photos when I heard her voice say.

“(Y/n)?” I froze and turned around to see my mum standing there, blocking my only exit. I stood up and said.

“Stay away from me!”

“Please just hear me out, please! Give me 2 minutes.” I looked down at my watch and said.

“1.58” telling her that her time was ticking.

“I know that—I haven’t been the best mother. After your father left us I thought I could do well by you but I guess I was wrong. I never left you because I didn’t love you, I left you because I loved you too much to put you in what I was living under. I could barely keep the mortgage on the house, we would’ve been homeless. I couldn’t do that to you. I thought that by leaving you with my sister, you’d get a better chance. Much more than you could have with me.”

“Then why didn’t you visit me? Why didn’t you call?” I asked as tears filled my eyes.

“I was a mess I—I got into some serious trouble and had to try and work them out. If they found out I had a child, then they’d use you against me. I couldn’t let them do that. But I do have something to show you,” she dug into her purse and pulled out a photograph. She walked up to me and held it out for me. “Look at this picture, just look at it.”

I looked between her and the picture until I finally took it and turned it over and was shocked to see what the picture was.

It was a picture of me at my secondary school decathlon. It was the championship competition and I had gotten the last question correct which made our school the first time in decades win a decathlon.

“You—you were there?”

“Yes, you were always such a clever girl, I knew if anyone could get your school the win it’d be you.” I just stared at her in shock, even though I hadn’t seen her since I was a child, she still was there watching over me. “I—I got more pictures like that in the apartment that I’m stay at, if you’d like you could come over and see them.”

“Really?” she nodded with a soft smile. “And I was also wondering that after you’re done with work, do you—wanna get a drink or something? Coffee? Do you like coffee?”

“I love coffee.” I said.

“Great, I know this one coffee shop in downtown.”

And for the first time, I was starting to slowly reforge a bond with my mother.

As the weeks passed and the two of us got to know each other a little more, hanging out after work, going to the clubs, and going to the mall shopping for clothes. Of course I had to buy them but hell we were using Deacy’s card and he didn’t seem to mind at all. So long as we didn’t go crazy and spend all his hard-earned money at once.

And true to her word, my mum did in fact have pictures of almost all my main important events that have happened in my life. My first swim team competition, my school play freshman year, even my high school graduation.

Every important even, she was there.

One day she had came over to Deacy and Veronica’s place and we were both sitting on the couch. The two of us laughing and looking at all of the photos I’ve taken since I’ve been with the guys, explaining each and every picture.

“There us at Rockfield farm studios, Roger was messing around with the chickens, which I told him not to, then next thing he knew the rooster was chasing after him for over 15 minutes.”

“Wow, I must say these are probably the best taken pictures I’ve seen, you’ve really got a gift.”

“Yeah, Deacy says that all the time.” She sat there silent and she said.

“Hey how do you feel about road trips?” I looked at her and said.

“You’re looking at someone whose toured with the biggest band all over the world. A simple road trip wouldn’t hurt me. You—really mean it? You and me?”

“If you’re interested. Just you and me poppet.”

“I am…..mum.” She smiled and for the first time in a very long time, my mum embraced me. I smiled and wrapped my arms around her and hugged her back.

“We’ll go first thing in the morning.” She told me and I nodded.

*John’s POV*

Seeing (y/n) hugging Kathrine like that made me feel so on edge. In fact this entire time she’s been here I’ve felt this sickening feeling that history was going to repeat itself.

“Deacy?” I turned to see Brian standing behind me. I had invited the lads over for supper and just so that way Katherine would be outnumbered should she try anything.

“If you’re going to tell me to stop spying on them, you might as well leave now.”

“You know—maybe she’s really trying to change. Maybe she did try to come back and patch things up with (y/n).” I turned to him and snarled out.

“She had 15 years to do that, don’t you think if she really cared about her own daughter she’d have come sooner?”

“I know Deacy and I’m not jumping to any conclusions yet but, from what I’ve seen so far. (Y/n) seems to really want to be with her mother. Maybe you could try to let go of the past and see that Katherine is seemingly wanting to change. At least do it for (y/n).”

“Everything I do is for her. I just—I just don’t want to see her get hurt again. For three years when she was first dropped off at my home, she always asked me ‘when’s mummy coming back?’ At the end of the three years by the time I was a teenager I just snapped and told her that she abandoned her. I felt awful in the way I had to explain it, took me over a week to finally get her to talk back to me. And I don’t know what’ll happen if she tries to leave her again.”

“I know mate, I know.” Brian wrapped an arm around me trying to get me to cheer up as I watched with a heavy heart as Katherine and (y/n) were planning out their summer road trip.

It was early the next morning, I woke up to the sounds of Robert getting fussy and felt Veronica stir beside me.

“I’ve got him love.”

“But you took care of him last time.”

“For you my darling, I would always take care of our children if it meant you could still sleep.” I kissed her temple down to her neck before getting up and heading over to Robert’s room. “Alright my boy, what’s going on with you hmm?” I picked him up and he babbled.

“Hungwy dada.” Since Robert couldn’t quite get his R’s right they always sounded like w’s. I smiled and said as I picked him up and held him in my arms.

“Okay buddy, what shall it be today hmm? Cheese on toast?”

“No yucky dada.”

“How dare you! Cheese on toast is a wonderful dish, you take that back mister man.” I teased as I began to tickle his sides making him laugh. He squirmed in my hold and that’s when I saw the silhouette of aunt Katherine walking down the stairs.

I narrowed my eyes and peeked out of Robert’s bedroom door and swore I saw a suitcase in her hand. I told Robert to go over to our room and stay with his mum while I went down to see just exactly she thought she was doing.

I silently walked down the stairs and saw her with the suitcase and she was about to grab her purse when I stopped her and said.

“Going out shopping again, Katherine?” she froze in her spot and turned around towards me and said.

“John I—I didn’t expect to see you up so early; I would’ve thought the tour exhausted you out.”

“Oh it did, but then again when my child needs me I’m always there for them. So where is it to this time?”

“Actually it’s not what you think. Work called in and I’ve got to check in on some things.”

“And what about the big road trip you and (y/n) had planned? Hmm? Were you going to let her in on your business?” I snapped.

“I was actually going to have you tell her for me.” She said. I rolled my eyes and turned away from her shaking my head.

“I knew it.” I muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“You almost had me convinced. Almost I mean you finally convinced (y/n) but not anymore! I knew you could never change. You abandoned her once before and I knew that if you ever came back into her life again, you’d do it all over again!” My voice raising up louder and angrier than I ever thought I could go.

“John?” Veronica soon came down with Robert in her arms and the lads were right behind her as well, probably hearing my yelling.

“Jeez Deaks its barely 7 o’clock, what the hell is with all the yelling?” Questioned Roger.

“Katherine’s leaving (y/n) again.” I stated. They all turned to her and Veronica said.

“Is this true Katherine?”

“And it gets better, she’s wanting me to tell (y/n) the road trip they both planned out together is cancelled instead of telling her herself.” I made sure to point out.

“It’s just business Veronica dear, if you were in my shoes you’d do the same. I promise I’ll keep better in touch this time.”

“Took you 15 years just to get back in touch.” I said. Seeing the look on my wife’s and my friends’ faces they finally got to see what I had seen all those years ago. From what I had told them, now they finally got to see it. Veronica holding our son walked up to her and said.

“Katherine, if you walk out of (y/n)’s life now…..don’t you ever come back.” With that she walked back up the stairs passing the guys. All was silent before I spoke up.

“May I have a moment alone with her?” I could already feel the tension from them. I knew the guys were just as angry as I was because they cared for (y/n) as much as I did, even after knowing her after just 3 years. I heard them walk away until finally it was just Katherine and I in my front hallway. “Sit down.”

“I don’t have time for this John—”

“I said sit down Katherine!” I snapped as I finally turned back towards her and just saw her back as her hand was on the doorknob ready to walk out. She sighed heavily and walked right past me and sat down on the living room couch.

I walked over toward her and sighed heavily and finally spoke my mind.

“You know; (y/n) was doing just fine until you showed up. But now that you’re back, you have responsibility for her.”

“Look I came back for her—”

“Oh bull. BULLSHIT!!” I yelled at her. “(Y/n) is not some purse that you hang up on a rack and then pick her up whenever you’re ready to use it. Her life goes on! She’s not supposed to be there for you, you’re supposed to be there for her!”

“You get off my back! YOU THINK I WANTED THIS?! IT JUST HAPPENED!!!” She yelled at me as she stood up. Her breathing was sharp and heavy as she tried to explain her reasoning, “After Derek left, I tried my best but it was just too much and I—”

“CUT THE RUBBISH! ALRIGHT! CUT IT!! Cause I’ve been there! But I didn’t run out on Veronica. I was there for her every day because that’s what a real parent does.”

“A real parent!? Fine. Then you’re a better father than my good-for-nothing man was. Hell John you must be better than any man in the world must be! The one in a million golden boy!” She cheered sarcastically. I shook my head at her and turned away from her. “Now are you going to tell (y/n) or not?”

“I’m not gonna do your dirty work for you.”

“Fine. I’ll—I’ll call her from the road then.”

“Yeah you do that.”

“I will.” She then walked out and that’s when we both heard (y/n)’s voice call out.

“Mummsy.” Katherine stopped in her tracks as (y/n) stood in front of me setting her bags down as she said, “You ready to head out?” Katherine turned towards (y/n) and put on that fake persona act and said as she walked up towards her.

“(Y/n) love glad I caught you. Umm…..some business came up that I gotta handle, so we’re gonna have to put our—trip on hold. You understand right?” (Y/n) was silent for a moment before she finally said.

“Yeah, yeah I understand.”

“Oh that’s great, I promise you I had no intention of having this come up.”

“No yeah I understand.”

“And it’ll only just be for a couple of weeks….well maybe even longer.”

“I get it, it’s fine. It’s fine.”

“Look I’ll call you next week and we’ll iron out the details then, okay?” (Y/n) nodded.

I could tell from the second she got the news that (y/n) was heartbroken and I feared that she knew Katherine’s real reason for leaving. She tried to pull off an understanding smile and voice but I could hear the cracks in her voice.

“It was great seeing you again poppet.” Katherine said as she reached out to her but (y/n) shrugged her off as she said.

“You too—Katherine.” She spat out her own mother’s name icily as she stared right at her. Katherine knowing that she had lost her only child once more, sighed solemnly and left without another word, turning her back on (y/n) once more.

“I’m sorry love.” I heard a choked out laugh and that’s when (y/n) said.

“No this actually works out perfectly I mean with the tour about to resume I can get back to practicing before University starts and—”

“(N/n), you don’t have to pretend around me. It’s okay to be angry.” I assured her.

“Mad? Why should I be mad Deacy? I mean at least she said goodbye this time, right? Hell at least this time you won’t have to hear me complain ‘when’s mummy coming home?’ I’m not 4 years old anymore, I can handle it. I—just wish I didn’t waste my damn time building this fucking scrapbook!” She then pulled out from her bag a photo album and glued onto the cover was a recent picture of her and Katherine together.

With all the pictures she’s taken over the years, (y/n)’s other hobby included scrapbooking. I saw that it had been completed decorated and detailed, almost like a professional had made it. She set it down on the table and just glared down at it.

I slowly walked up to her but kept to her space because I knew it was only a matter of time before she would break down and I didn’t want to overwhelm her.

“Darling, you know that if there was anything I could do to make this better—”

“No, no, no, no this works out for the best,” she said as she came up to me looking me right in the eye. “I mean it’s her loss anyway I mean I learned how to ride a bike by myself. Yeah sure the boys laughed at me but I got back up and showed them a thing or two about riding didn’t I?”

“Yes you did love bug.” I said with a fond smile remembering that day.

“And there was a hell of a lot of stuff I did without her. I learned how to shave, how to drive, I got over my first crush and date without her, I did prom without her, I had fifteen great birthdays without her! That bitch never even sent me a damn card. TO HELL WITH HER!!!” She turned and screamed at the door.

God she’s always tried to remain so optimistic about life and everything around her. Always tried to remain strong after being abandoned by both parents, she always tried to go on every day with a smile and a laugh but now she was finally letting all that pain out like a dam bursting.

Hearing her sharp breaths and the tremble in her voice just broke my heart.

“I never needed her then, and I’ll never need her now.” She snapped as she walked away. I softly spoke her name as I reached out and touched her arm. That’s when she turned around and said.

“Nah you know what Deacy? I’m gonna get through college without her. I’ll get my dream job without her. I’ll find me a good guy to be with, and then I’m going to have a whole bunch of kids. I’m gonna be a better mother than she ever was because there’s not a fucking thing she can teach me ABOUT HOW TO LOVE A CHILD!!!”

Her eyes were red from the tears pooling in her eyes and her face morphed from pure rage to brokenhearted with a snap of a finger. It was almost like she had de-aged right before my eyes and was back to being that three year old girl that I once held in my arms whenever she cried about her parents.

“Why didn’t they want me?” At this point I couldn’t hold back anymore.

I immediately wrapped my arms around her and held her as close and as tightly as I could as I felt her wet my shoulder with her tears. Her sobs pierced the room as I felt her go limp against me. The two of us slowly collapsed to our knees but not once did I let my grip on her go loose. I kept hold of her as I rubbed her back and whispered words of love and comfort in her ear.

*3rd Person POV*

Unaware that in behind the door that led to the dining room, Freddie, Roger and Brian stayed and overheard the entire conversation. And overhearing their favorite girl break down like this, broke all their hearts. Freddie wiped away his tears that were flooding down his face, almost ready to break down the door and just hug his little camera girl.

Brian who standing behind Freddie had a hand on his shoulder but he too had tears streaming down his face. While Roger who was had pulled up one of the dining room chairs just a couple inches away from Fred, his back turned towards the door.

He was a mix between pure anger and heartbreak. He wa tempted to knock over the china cabinet but also just break down into tears at hearing his partner in crime cry this much. Never had he heard her make those sounds before and it just hurt him to the core.

Back with John and (y/n), she had finally managed to cry herself to sleep. Deacy slowly picked her up bridal style when the guys decided to come into the living room and the second John saw their red, teary eyes, he knew that they had stayed and overheard everything.

“You heard it all I assume?” John asked more as a statement than a question.

“We didn’t mean to impose John.” Said Brian.

“It’s fine, beats having to tell you guys and having her relive that pain and exhausting myself to repeat the same story.” He said as he looked down at his little cousin. Roger came up towards Deacy and stroked (y/n)’s head.

“The poor dear” Freddie said solemnly.

“Guess you were right about her Deacy.” Brian said.

“There will be plenty of time for ‘I told you so’s’ later, right now I should get (y/n) back into her room so she can get the proper rest she needs.” Deacy then took his cousin upstairs and placed her back in her bed.

He tucked her in and brushed away the hair from her face and lightly kissed her forehead before leaving her room to head back downstairs.

As time went on and it was around late afternoon the guys were still hanging around John’s place, agreeing to stay until (y/n) woke up so that the five of them could have a talk. Veronica who was currently walking up the stairs to check up (y/n) muttered to herself.

“Oh I hope she’s okay.” She got to the door and lightly knocked on it and said, “(Y/n), (y/n) love it’s Veronica, may I come in?” She heard nothing. She knocked again and said, “(Y/n)?” when she didn’t get a response, she opened the door to see a shocking sight.

The bedsheets had been turned over and the bedroom window was open, the curtains blowing with the wind.

“Oh no, John!” she cried out as she raced back down the stairs. The boys heard footsteps running down the stairs and when they saw Veronica, the first thing they saw was her frantic state. John immediately went up to his wife holding her arms and said.

“Love calm down, what’s going on?”

“(Y/n)’s is missing.”

“What? What do you mean missing?!” demanded Roger.

“I went to check on her but when I opened the door she wasn’t in her room. The window was open and—” without getting another word, the four bandmates raced up the stairs to see that Veronica was telling the truth. She came up behind them as Deacy and Brian raced towards the window and looked down.

“She must’ve scaled down using the pipes along the house.” Suggested Brian.

“My darlings, her bag is gone.” Freddie stated as he stood by the closet and sure enough the bags that she had used for the upcoming road trip were gone.

“She could be anywhere by now.” Brian said but then I snapped.

“She could be out of the country for all we know because we don’t know how long she’s been gone for!”

“Deacy calm down.” Roger said.

“I swear if anything happens to that girl, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Don’t worry darling we’ll find her.” Fred assured me as he placed a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll turn London upside down if we have too to find her.”

We then split up into teams. I called my mum first to take care of Robert and watch over him then once she took care of him Veronica and I checked in the square, Fred took the studio, and Brian and Roger took the park.

It was an endless search trying to find her, and I pray to God we find her alive. It would be dark soon and all the freaks and psychopaths love to come out at night.

*3rd Person POV*

It was hours into the search and sunset would soon be near and still no one had found any signs of (y/n). After search the studio, Fred decided to help Brian and Roger in the park while Deacy and Veronica tried the mall, hoping that maybe (y/n) had gone inside since it was getting dark soon.

Fred and Brian teamed up together to search one side of the park while Roger was near by the lake searching on his own. It was then he took notice of something underneath the bridge nearby. He quickly ran towards the bridge and low and behold he had found (y/n).

She was huddled under the bridge, her knees tucked in close to her body sniffling softly. Roger took notice of the tearstains on her face and he felt his heart break once more. He cautiously approached her and knelt down beside her and softly said her name.

*My POV*

I sniffled and felt more tears run down my face. I thought that I had finally found a place to cry in peace without risking anyone coming near me and asking questions when I heard the familiar soft, spoken voice of Roger Taylor say my name. I jumped up but then groaned and turned my back on him.

“Oh god…..”

“You know you really gotta pick your hiding spots. I mean seriously you have no idea how many people could see you—”

“Why are you here Roger?!” I snapped.

“We’ve been scouring the entire town looking for you (n/n). You gave us all quite a scare.” He said. I didn’t respond to him, just scooted as far away from him as I could and put my bag between us giving me that extra space I needed. “You wanna talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. My dad never wanted me, my mum never wanted me, nobody ever wants me.”

“That’s not true—”

“Open your eyes Roger!” I snapped at him as I felt a new wave of tears hit me. “All my life I’ve had to hear all my friends telling me what great parents they have. You know my dad fought in Vietnam, my mom’s a real estate’s agent. My parents help support me. Well—both my parents never wanted me! Yeah I had Deacy and aunt Lillian but they are just my cousin and aunt. It’s not the same! My whole life I had to be loved by someone whose not my parent and I hate it! I hate it soo much!” I lowered my head choking on my sobs.

It was then I felt Roger’s arms wrap around me and I felt him place my head over his heart, each beat of his heart trying to soothe my tormented mind. He stroked down my hair and he said.

“Do you remember back on Ridge farm when Brian took us all out to that one area of woods to see the stars? Paul forced himself into the getaway, so to mess with him you filled his bag with rocks and used that lizard you came across to put on his bottle as well as on his head.”

“And then it crawled into his mouth.” I finished.

“Yeah pure stroke of genius.” He chuckled. “(N/n), you may think you’re unloved, but that is absolute bollocks. You are loved. By Deacy, Brian, Fred, me, Veronica, hell even Miami. We all love you, and if anything had happened to you, we wouldn’t know what to do.” He wiped the tearstains away from my cheek with his thumb before lifting my chin up to face him, forcing me to stare into his baby blue eyes. “The only one who doesn’t deserve to be loved and wanted is your mother. Anyone who could play you like that, has no right to be called a parent. You are way out of her league.”

“Then why would she come back pretending to care?” Roger just looked at me sadly and he said.

“I wish I had the right answer. But I can tell you this; you’re sweet, you’re kind, smart, beautiful. You’ve got more sass in one finger than Deacy will ever have in his entire body. And it’s like you said one day in the way off deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep.” I laughed softly as he kept repeating the word deep at least four more times before continuing, “distant future, you’ll become a mother yourself and I know that you’ll be twice the mother than your own was.” He tucked some of my hair behind my ears, revealing them before gently cupping my chin between his thumb and index fingers.

“How is it that a dentist ends up being wiser than both the astrophysicist and electrical engineer?”

“I was never a dentist and you know it.” He said as he playfully squeezed the tip of my nose shaking my head which made me laugh again as I pushed his hand away making him laugh softly. He then leaned forward and placed his forehead against mine.

This was a special little thing that Roger loved to do with me. It was our own secret little comforting mechanism. I was actually the first one to do it to him when he once had a breakdown after a show. He just seemed so peeved about something that the lads almost feared that he’d throw out another telly set. So I took the risk and took his hands in mine and just placed my forehead against his and just held that position till he calmed down.

From then on, whenever one of us was mad or upset, the forehead touch helped bring the other back to Earth. He then wrapped his arms around me giving me his famous bear hugs. His hand stroked down my hair as his head now moved next to mine while my head rested against his shoulder and the two of us sat there for a while in silence.

“C’mon kid, let’s get you home.”

“I don’t think I can.” I muttered sadly.

“Why’s that?”

“Deacy.” I simply answered. Roger separated from me and he said.

“He’s not mad (y/n)…..”

“You don’t get it, you may have seen John Deacon the man who can crumble you down with just two sentences, but you’ve yet to see what happens when he redirects that anger and mixes it with overprotective behavior.”

“Love, he’s been worried sick about you. He needs to know that his little sis is safe. I know I would.” I sighed heavily and said.

“But what if he does get mad?”

“I’ll talk to him. If anyone knows a thing about overreacting it’s me.” I smiled softly and that’s when Rog stood up and held his hand out for me to take.

“You promise to have my back?”

“Partners in crime till the very end. Just like those two cats in that poem you like so much.” I smiled up at him and took his hand and he helped me up as he took my bag over his shoulder and had his free arm wrapped around my shoulder as he guided me back to his car and he drove me back to Deacy and Veronica’s.

*3rd Person POV*

The sun had set about 5 minutes ago and with almost everyone back at John’s place, no one had found her. John who was running his hands through his hair frantic with worry as his wife tried to calm him down.

“Maybe we should call the police.” Suggested Brian.

“No need Brian.” Roger’s voice soon spoke up as he opened the door. Everyone turned to see that the drummer had finally came back.

“And just where were you all this time Roger dear?”

“Bringing back a lost lamb.” He then gestured with his arm and soon walking in cautiously was (y/n). Immediately everyone began crowding around her asking her questions about where she was and why she ran away like that.

Sensing his partner in crime’s nervousness and anxiety he told everyone.

“Guys, guys back it up. Don’t crowd her all at once.” John who merely stood there by the couch in shock to see his cousin alive and well. Roger looked to Deacy and pressed his hand to (y/n)’s back. She looked up at him and he nodded to her and she cautiously walked towards her cousin, like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs.

“Where did you find her?” asked Freddie.

“At the park underneath the Churchill bridge. Poor girl was crying her eyes out.” Roger whispered. Veronica ten decided to allow her husband and (y/n) to have some alone time so she guided the boys into the kitchen for a proper meal after their long search while she called Lilian to tell her that they found (y/n) and that she would pick Robert up in the morning.

(Y/n) stood in front of her cousin. John looked down at her before finally raising his hands to cup both sides of her face to lift her face up so that he could get a good look at her.

“You’re not hurt are you?” he asked. With a shake of her head, Deacy sighed with relief and immediately embraced her before openly weeping into her shoulder. She hugged her cousin back whimpering.

“I’m sorry I ran away. I’m sorry Deacy, I’m sorry.”

“Shhhh, you’re home now. Safe and unharmed and that’s all I care about now. It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay dove.” The two cousins kept hold of each other trying to draw strength from each other knowing that they were going to get by and be okay.

213 notes · View notes

mariosomething · 5 years

Text

MISTAKES I MADE AS A COMIC OR NOTICED AS A BOOKER...

(NOTE: Never say never, but I can’t imagine getting back on stage again. However, now that comedy is returning to clubs--and potentially booming here in Austin--I think this is worth repeating. Especially #15. Enjoy!)

So, I might be hopping on stage again for my own, personal reasons. Number one being distraction from the crushing loneliness that comes with self-employment. Woo! On the first page of my newly-purchased comedy notebook, I started making a list of things I don’t want to do this time around. The comic I don’t want to be, should I continue performing. Getting in my own way with unfounded beliefs about my abilities or lack thereof. I will—NO DOUBT—repeat some of the following blunders out of muscle memory, and if you catch me doing so, by all means, call me out! In no particular order:

1- Worrying about who’s heard this bit before. One cure for this is to never stop writing new stuff. Also, it’s the JOB of a comedian to repeat the same shit with the same zeal and sincerity for different crowds…crowds that probably don’t attend comedy shows as often as we perform on them.

2- Worrying about making the comics laugh. This is still the hallmark of a great comic to me…the person we’ve all seen before but stop the chit-chat when they get on stage. It’s the opposite of a “crowd-pleaser.” In a perfect world, I can please both—as some do—but ultimately, we don’t get paid to make the back of the room laugh. If I’m building a half-hour, those comics may ‘check out’ during my set, and that’s to be expected. If I concern myself with their approval, I’m ignoring the audience, and by extension, disrespecting them. THEY bought a ticket. They deserve my best attempt.

3- Starting your act with a risky joke. Are there exceptions for these “rules” of mine? Absolutely. But they are just that…exceptions. This one always drove me nuts when I ran the Velv. Especially when the rest of one’s act is relatively benign! Would you lead with your “crazy” on a first date? Talk about all of your flaws on a job interview? Or with music you like…if I wanted to get you into Tom Waits, I’m not gonna recommend The Black Rider—an album only die-hard fans might appreciate. I’d start with something accessible, like Small Change or Rain Dogs. Get them on your side first with your palatable stuff, then give ‘em what you want. (Now go listen to Tom Waits’ Small Change and Rain Dogs.)

4- Worrying about looking stupid. This is the big one for me. Even though I KNOW the audience WANTS us to look foolish; even while I KNOW they want us to be both vulnerable and confident about it, I have a crippling fear of embarrassment. And this is NOT a good quality for any comedian. I learned that words account for only 7% of communication. The rest is body language, facial expressions and tone. I’ve always hidden behind my words, and have given up on bits that require me to be more animated. So dumb. Which leads me to…

5- Not doing enough ‘act-outs’ in bits. When I watch amazing comedians, they all have this in common. They perform or act-out dialogue. More show than tell. They don’t just recite jokes or one-liners. Even Steven & Mitch & Todd do/did act-outs in their own, low-energy styles. When you start looking for them, they’re everywhere. So much rolling, sustained laughter derives from act-outs. They don’t have to be BIG, they just have to be well-delivered.

6- Writing what I think they might like, not what I like. Another big ‘duh’ but worth repeating. I fell in this trap on the road. I was lovingly told to “write a dick joke already!” when I was a new, quasi-clever comic. And man alive, did I ever make up for it! Some may have had a fake nose and mustache, but they were dick jokes nonetheless, and I wasn’t proud. But they got laughs, and more laughs meant better comment cards, which meant return visits. Awesome way to remain a road comic…shitty way to evolve or get industry to pay attention. It’s also a fast track to burnout. If you’re not doing stuff you like, resentment builds and ambition wanes.

7- Not having goals. A new, tight 10 minutes is my goal today. If that goes well, a new 30. Then maybe an album. When I DID have things to strive for, they “magically” happened. I kept comedy goal lists on my wall, and most came to fruition. Then I got in my head and stopped making those lists. The more I was learning about the biz, the more inadequate I felt. I stopped writing, stopped going to mics and eventually stopped touring. With no new goals, I lost steam and confidence. I was a competent middle, but a spotty headliner…THAT is my ceiling for now. I’d love to be a rock-solid, reliable closer with at least one killer album to show for it. It’s feasible, but I need to start with that initial aim of a new, polished, consistent 10 minutes that I like.

8- Not watching more pros. Something that baffles me about so many new comics. You have the option to catch A-list comedians for FREE at Cap City, your home club, etc…why would you not take advantage? You learn by watching pros, even if it’s what NOT to do. Or what’s being done to death. You can learn structure, pacing, opening and closing. I used to watch comics I knew I wouldn’t like, but came away with respect for how they did things. People forget or don’t know that the late, great Bill Hicks used to be a clean-ish, set-up/punch kinda comedian. He learned the rules so he can break them effectively. Even at his viscous best, he was still super-polished. It’s respect for the craft, dammit. All of your heroes have it.

9- Getting jealous of your friends’ progress. There is sooo much leap-frogging in this business, there’s no need to denigrate yourself for not keeping pace with a peer. “Comedy is the closest thing there is to justice,” according to Colin Quinn, and I 100% agree. If you’re funny, consistently funny, you will get work. Period. When producers run and book shows, they want reliability more than anything. There is no island of misfit-but-actually-brillant comedians out there, waiting to be discovered. Funny gets noticed by EVERYbody. If you’re not getting booked, start looking inward. Seriously. When Cap City demoted me from headliner, I didn’t fight it. I thought they were right to do so because I knew my 50 minutes was about 15 shy of reliable material. Challenge your beliefs about your own act. Maybe you’re better than you think, but maybe it’s just the opposite. It’s worth asking, “What am I doing wrong?” if you’re having trouble getting past open mics. Maybe you are indeed funny, but still too green or inconsistent. Maybe you had a bad showcase set and your friend killed. Your friend may get Montreal before you, but you might get a manager first. You just don’t know! Keep plugging away, because there’s too much out of your control.

10- Not being humble. Jeezus H. Christmas, where did all of this unearned confidence come from?? Not only will I never relate to this, I will continue to chastise and scoff at it. Don’t assume your shit is crushed fruit, especially when you’re new. Don’t trash talk other comics, it WILL bite you in the ass eventually. Or immediately in some cases. Don’t think you’re immediately entitled to the same things that other comics took years to obtain or achieve. There is always something to learn, even from people you disagree with…it’s the definition of being open-minded. There are comics I detest personally, but goddamn if they aren’t great performers/writers. And I’ll probably get push-back for this, but I never called myself a “comedian” until I was able to quit my day job. Until that happened, I was just a dude who “did comedy.” I wanted to earn that title, don’t you?? Skip the business cards and build your act.

11- Not taking chances on stage. I’ve heard from too many comedians that if you’re always killing up there, you’re not taking chances. When I booked a room, I wanted to reward comics who tried new stuff every open mic, or was tweaking it. If a comic kept going up with well-worn bits, I ignored them for a few weeks or longer, even if they got laughs. It’s open mic, the point is to experiment! When I worked the road, I stopped doing mics when I was back in town. Big mistake. I was afraid to try untested jokes in clubs on the road, and too lazy or complacent to take chances at open mics. I stunted my own growth.

12- All agenda, no punchlines. I remember watching a well-known comic in NY struggle with Jesus jokes. He could NOT have been in a more welcoming arena for such, but he wasn’t funny, just angry. So he said, “Oh, I guess you guys don’t like religious jokes,” To which my friend replied, “We do! We keep waiting for one.” I think comedians can be the most insightful people on the planet, and the great ones don’t berate, they put funny first. It just makes sense! If you really really really want your message to be heard, then it’s in your best interest to make it funny. Funny cuts through. Or maybe you just wanna use the stage as a soapbox, in which case, quit comedy.

13- Not presenting both sides. I once told an established headliner he couldn’t return to the Velv, despite the numbers. In fairness to us, it was Valentine’s Day weekend, we were packed anyway. He never gave me a chance to explain why, but here’s why: he was too angry about women and wasn’t self-deprecating enough to balance it out. Conversely, I had a female comedian come through a couple of times, and the bulk of her act is male-bashing, BUT, it’s tight and well-crafted and funny as shit…AND she sprinkles in enough self-effacing humor so as not to divide the crowd. If the guy I banned was her parallel, I would’ve re-booked him. But I’m a freak about balance. While I don’t believe ANY person or group of people is above criticism, you can’t just point fingers at others while patting yourself on the back.

14 - Not putting more of ‘me’ in my act. Trends are fun as a reference, but full bits built around them have a tiny shelf life. It’s fluff and filler at best. Relationships will never be hacky. Aging will never get old. Folks! We all have specific quirks or approaches to life in general, why not explore those approaches? That’s when a ‘comic’ graduates to ‘comedian.’ When they stop saying funny things and start saying things funny. Not my line, but damn accurate.**

15- Knee-jerk hating and never asking WHY? Okay, this one’s a personal lament. When I found comedy, I found harmony. Anyone funny was welcome. I didn’t see us as men or women or gay or straight or black or white, we were comics, and I fucking loved it. We were equals from every walk of life, and no jerks allowed! I found a circle of curious, liberal-minded pals who were always asking why. Friends who would call out each other’s bullshit or hypocrisy or bad bits, then laugh about it at Mugshots. Friends who preferred brutal truth over blowing smoke. It was bliss for someone who values sincere feedback and funny, earnest people. Comedians we respect and adore are always challenging norms of behavior and tradition. Pryor, Chapelle, Carlin, Rock, of course, but even Larry David, who’s the king of offending people by rejecting small, societal niceties.

I’m starting to see too much division and moral cowardice in comedy--on and off stage--and this is antithesis to its value, in my opinion. Everything I hated about high school. Cliques and whispers and spiteful exclusion. I will echo what I wrote earlier: NOBODY IS ABOVE CRITICISM. This is the salty to the sweet of “Everyone welcome.” Comedy is a LOT of failing, tons of real-time rejection, and that SUCKS. But if you think it has anything to do with anything but your act, you’re not asking Why. It’s easier to say, “Well, it’s clearly ‘cos I’m ________.” Really? Maybe it’s ‘cos you’re not funny, or not funny YET. Maybe it’s because you haven’t written a new joke in months, or refuse to change the ones that never work. Maybe you think there are no rules to comedy, and you can just get up there and people will love you because so-and-so does it that way. Maybe you don’t have so-and-so’s natural talent or likability. Or work ethic. Or self-awareness. If your first response is to blame a crowd, a booker, society, or whatever, ask yourself: are there successful comics who look like me? Why them and not me? What are they doing differently? My first guess is: they’re addicted to the craft so they keep their head down and write and tweak and fail and ask why and learn from mistakes. Stop complaining and start paying attention. At the end of the day, you and you alone are responsible for your career. If you believe women aren’t funny, I pity your ignorance and sheltered life. If you think men have it easier, tell that to the thousands of male comics who go nowhere in this business.

Maybe I’m an idealist hippy dippy doofus, but I believe that what we admire about others is pretty universal stuff. Regarding comedy, we all like someone who’s fearless on stage. Confident but not cocky. Capable. Quick. Genuine. Someone who keeps writing and honing their act. Someone who connects with people. Someone who comes back once a year with 30 new minutes. Someone who plows forward, not consumed with the opinions of others. Are these gender or race-specific qualities?? Hardly. And when you’re a top shelf, A-list comedian who’s paid their dues, it’s all preference at that level. It’s Gin vs. Vodka vs. Bourbon vs. Tequila, no one is “better” than the next. Maria Bamford is Bill Burr is Dave Chapelle is Carrot Top. They’re all pros who never stop working.

I’ll leave you with this…Comedy is a powerful and special thing, and I’ve always been crazy-grateful to be part of this tiny, uniquely rewarding world. Even if this experiment crumbles after a few months, even if I can’t vanquish some personal demons, it’s been a pursuit I’ve yet to regret. If you’re just starting out, or five years in, or going on the road, relish every minute. Meet all the people. Make all the friends. Get over your fears, get over yourself and get better. xoxo mario

**This is how I first heard it. Comic/comedian or vice versa. You get it. Though I personally feel that “comedian” sounds more like an official title, while you can’t spell “comic” without “mic.” Just sayin’ is all.

#standupcomedy #comedy

2 notes · View notes

the-trth-untold · 5 years

Note

now its ur turn. do all of the sweetheart asks.

god jsjsjhdjk im just letting u kno these answers r gonna be BORING but hhhh THANK U

1. Talk about your first love.

i’ve never been in love, never been in a relationship before. BUT i can vaguely remember my first crush back in 2nd grade. all i can remember was that his name was kyle and he was the only boy who ever spoke to me and my brain just went !!!

2. What’s the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard in your opinion?

Break My Heart Again - FINNEAS or What Was Our Love All About - Adrian Milanio and Marylou Villegas

these are just two that i can think of there are A LOT of beautiful songs

3. How’s your heart feeling right now?

fine??

4. What kind of self care is your favorite to do?

i dont really do any self care things??

5. What’s your skincare routine?

i dont do any skincare routines either... ik im a monster

6. How did you get to be so beautiful?

u must be blind if u think that

7. Do you have any stuffed animals?

i used to have over 50 stuffed animals, i would always place them all over my bed neatly but i got rid of them now :(

8. Best trip you’ve ever been on?

Myrtle Beach, SC because it was my first vacation spot and i was so happy seeing two dolphins close to the shore

9. Favorite thing about your room?

the color of my walls and blankets lol mint green and peach colors

i dont have anything cool in my room

10. Opinion on love?

i mean, it’d be nice to experience it some day and i hope i do but right now im content being by myself

11. Are you affectionate?

if i know you very well i can be, if not im very awkward and will barely make any eye contact with you

12. Who do you look up to?

i look up to people who have struggled a lot in their life, people who can be optimistic in any situation

13. Favorite poet?

i dont read much poetry, but i loved reading some things Emily Dickinson has published

14. Song that makes you happy? How about one that calms you down when you’re in a bad place?

honestly any disney song makes me happy! im a huge disney nerd and listening to any of those songs makes me feel nostalgic.

when im in a bad place, any slow, ballad sounding song can calm me down

15. Do you play an instrument?

i played the flute in middle school but dropped it after less than a week LOL

16. Do you do art? Using what (pencil, watercolor, etc)?

i like doing digital art but im not good at it and i dont have adobe illustrator anymore so i haven’t done anything recently

17. Do you dance? What style of dance?

i cannot dance and no one will make me

IM TOO EMBARRASSED EVEN IF IM ALONE HAHAHA

18. What’s your zodiac sign? Do you believe in astrology?

im a libra

i somewhat believe in astrology, i know there’s more to it than just your sun sign and there are different placements that make you different from the stereotypical traits people use for each sign

a lot of the “things about each sign” can be used for anyone because the responses can be very vague and many people can relate to

19. Favorite old film?

too many

the shining, the breakfast club, carrie, pretty in pink, etcetcetc

20. What’s your hairstyle?

idk its a mess

curly/wavy and i have hardcut bangs

21. What weather is the most beautiful, in your opinion?

fall weather, where its like 50 F (or 10 C for all u weirdos out there), cold enough to put on a flannel and boots

22. What upsets you most about the world?

i only have two hands but there are so many cats and dogs. i cannot pet all of them. (IM SORRY THIS WAS UR ANSWER DASHA BUT IM KEEPING IT ITS SO CUTE AND FUNNY AND I RELATE)

23. Are you in love right now?

24. Do you have a crush? If so, talk about them!

i dont have a crush lol

25. Do you have pets? Talk about something sweet about them!

yes!!! i have two gorgeous puppies!!! if u wanna check them out u can follow my instagram i post them all the time @ the.moon.atomic

they’re such dorks but they fit my household idk how to describe it they just belong in my house hahha

26. Do you have a lucky number?

i dont really believe in lucky numbers

27. Have you ever wished on a star? What about on a fallen eyelash?

no, and i never heard about wishing on a fallen eyelash haha

28. Do you believe emoji spells to work?

no???????? i dont even know what that is

29. Do you believe in magic in general?

30. What’s the most beautiful thing in life, In your opinion?

when people finally stop hiding their true selves, show their real smiles, and laugh so hard they snort

idk i just love people, well, most anyway sjsjhzjdsk

31. Opinion on the color pink? What about baby blue?

love them

theyre such pure colors and they just remind me of newborn babies hahaha

32. What instrumental sound is your favorite?

piano definitely

33. Do you like the sound of wind? What about the sound of rain?

yes! yes to both! i love rain more though, sorry wind

34. Who makes you happy?

my friends, family, and my mutuals

35. What makes you happy?

listening to music

36. Imagine your ideal life, the life you wish to make, what will that look like?

ohh well i’d be living on germany for starters hahaha

id like to have my own house, maybe living with a best friend

definitely like 5784538902 cats and dogs, i love them

at some point id like to have a relationship LOL

37. Do you wear makeup? If so what’s your favorite type of makeup or specific makeup product? Favorite store to buy makeup?

only on rare days ill put on makeup, i only use eyeshadow, liner, and mascara and ive never gone to a store thats just for make up, i just go to a pharmacy lol

38. Do you wear dresses? If so what’s your favorite dress you own?

only if i absolutely have to, the dress i wore for my senior pictures is my favorite

39. Ever been heartbroken? How do you deal with it?

noo, ive never been in a relationship

40. Who’s your closest friend? What do you love about them?

i kinda really dont have one, not irl anyway

@neo-bangtan @mini-pretzel are my closest friends online, i love everything about u guys

41. Introvert or extrovert?

introvert

42. Do you like MBTI? What’s your MBTI?

im isfj

43. Would you be a fairy, a mermaid, a vampire, a siren, or an angel?

uh idk?? i wouldnt want to be immortal so

44. What’s the best song a friend has ever introduced to you?

acid jazz singer - the fratellis

45. Parlez-vous français?

no my french sucks

46. Most beautiful place you’ve been to?

honestly i cant think of any place pennsylvania sucks ahhaha

47. Where/when do you truly feel at home?

home...... my bed...... LOL

48. Does smiling put you in a better mood? Try it right now, you’re smile is gorgeous!

only if im not looking at myself lol

49. Favorite shoe you own?

slip ons or my new balance

50. Can you walk in stilettos? Do you like them?

N O i am so accident prone i can barely walk barefoot without tripping

51. Do you feel loved?

kinda? sometimes?

52. How do you express love to those you care about?

just giving them a hug lol or saying i love you

53. Favorite term(s) of endearment?

no ones ever called me any but i like baby, im a simple girl

54. Most romantic thing someone’s ever done for you?

nothing?

55. When is the happiest you’ve ever been?

meeting new people who share the same interests

56. Are you happy right now?

im pretty neutral atm

57. What makes you smile?

really awful jokes that ARENT EVEN FUNNY AND TALKING DASHA AND KARINA

58. Do you laugh a lot?

i guess??

59. What’s your favorite kind of aesthetic?

soft vibes i guess haha

60. Do you want to marry for love or for some other reason (like money)?

i dont see myself marrying but if i would it would definitely be for love

61. What would your dream wedding look like? Do you want to get married?

i dont really want to get married, most of the time it ends in divorce and theres just a lot of paper work and its a hassle i dont see a point in it

62. Favorite flower?

hydrangeas

63. Favorite artist?

edgar degas

64. Favorite music artist?

bts lol

65. How kind do you think you are? Is kindness important to you?

i try to be kind to everyone, i dont know if others perceive me that way but i think kindness is very important to me

66. Ever made a playlist for someone?

once and i loved it, pls ask me to make a playlist for u

67. Do you have anything you do to physically comfort you when your sad? Such as a favorite blanket? Or a relaxing bath?

music and a soft blanket

68. Early bird or night owl?

early bird

69. Morning routine?

wake up, look in the mirror, look away from the mirror, go back to bed. (AGAIN THIS IS UR ANSWER DASHA BUT IM KEEPING IT HHAHAHAHA)

70. Night routine?

shower and watch netflix until i fall asleep

71. What is the most lovely quality a person could have in your opinion?

being humble

72. Do you cry often? Does crying help you get the emotions out? Do you feel better after?

yes yes and yes

im such a cry baby i will cry at everything if u yell at me or if disappoint u im so sensitive

73. Do you like hugs?

yes but i dont receive many hugs

74. When was the last time you kissed someone?

never

75. Are you small or tall?

small, 5′4 or 164cm

76. Do you like wholesome memes?

who doesnt

77. Favorite thing about the past?

anything that makes me feel nostalgic

78. Do you ever wonder about the future?

yes

79. Have you ever lived in a different country than you currently live in?

nooo

80. Do you like plane flights? Airports?

ive never been on a plane

81. Sunrises or sunsets?

sunsets

82. The beach or a forest?

beach

83. What time of day do you tend to be in the best mood?

when im sleeping lol

84. Do you push yourself to act together and in a good mood even when you aren’t?

i try to

85. Favorite kind of tree?

what kind of question is this i dont know anything about trees

86. Do you care about the health of the Earth?

i want to but i dont do anything for it

87. What did you like most about your childhood, if anything?

fieldtrips in school

88. Do you read a lot? What’s your favorite book?

i try to read more, my favorite book is more happy than not

89. What are you most nostalgic for at the moment?

disney, i just put my christmas tree down and the ornaments are disney characters

90. What’s your favorite personality trait you have?

honesty i guess?

91. List at least ONE thing you love about your appearance.

my eyes

92. When was the last time you truly felt calm, without much of anything to worry about?

after i bathe

93. Do you worry a lot?

yes all the time

94. The dazzling lights of the city or the relaxing countryside?

dazzling lights of the city

95. Ever changed the shoelaces on one of your shoes? For what reason?

96. Favorite pastry?

??????????? i dont know??????????

97. Do you like doing little acts of kindness?

YEAH

98. How’s your day/night going?

fine so far, i dont have to work today so im just chillaxing

17 notes · View notes

happy-meo · 6 years

Text

Masquerade IV: The Dark Side (Jin x Reader x Tae) Part 1

While love may bring out the best in us, it could also bring out the worst.

And so the last saga begins...

** If you haven't read them already, please read the following BEFORE starting this story: Silver Spoon, Masquerade I, Masquerade II, Masquerade III, Masquerade 3.1 & 3.2 drabbles **

Summary: You were never lucky in love. Through disastrous dates, consistent unrequited crushes, and broken relationships, you've constantly been searching for someone to give you genuine love and romance. And through it all, one person had remained your constant shoulder to lean on. Although you had never seen his face, he had given you a sense of confidence and a place of comfort in Club Masquerade. The more times you've failed in love though, the more you realized that may be no one would ever choose you. However, one fateful encounter, thanks to your dog, made you want to hope one more time. Did fate bring you to the one who would finally end your streak of being broken-hearted? Or had the right guy been with you all along?

Jin x Reader x Tae (ft. previous Masquerade characters, Silver Spoon characters, & Got7 Jackson) Fluff, Smut, Angst, Romance Host Au, Cook!Jin, Vet!Tae, Bartender!Tae

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 (Finale)

A/N: And the new series is back! Thank you everyone for waiting so patiently! Sorry for the time lapse without updates. As I said, I experienced a little bit of a writer’s block, and I really wanted to this final installment justice. I had planned this series all together in the beginning, and I hadn’t expected so many people to love and anticipate the Masquerade series, so THANK YOU SO MUCH for allowing me to write all four parts and related Silver Spoon <33 ENJOY!

Most people were brought up with the belief that being humble was respectful and how they should always act when receiving compliments. So much so that most people feel bashful when accepting praises; so much so that they begin to doubt compliments and any positive outlook on themselves, to the point where they begin to downplay their own strengths and focus on their weaknesses.

But that wasn't the case with Jin.

It was a meeting of Heaven and Hell when you first met. He was a ball of positivity and warmth, while you were cold and desolate. In your fit of desperation, you had run into Club Masquerade for relief, for any inkling of being loved, for comfort.

And in his own odd way, Jin gave that to you.

"Wow, you're a hot mess." He had chuckled as he grabbed your hand to lead you away from judgmental eyes.

Your make-up was trailing down your cheeks, your hair was unkempt, and your eyes blood-shot from crying. It was another cliché story of being cheated on and dumped. Another episode of not feeling good enough.

"I want a different person." You thought he was making fun of you.

But he smiled as he led you into a room and stated, "Why? Because I called you hott?"

"You said I'm a hot mess." You repeated.

"Why do people automatically think that's a bad thing?" He laughed as he threw his jacket around your shoulders. "I think you're quite beautiful right now."

You blushed and averted your eyes. "Stop lying."

"Not anyone can rock smudged make up and crying their eyes out, while still managing to look good." He handed you tissues and a mirror. "Unless you're me of course."

You looked at him incredulously. "You wear make-up?"

"No. My face was sculpted by the gods." He stated seriously with a shrug. "I meant I make every emotion look fantastic."

You couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculousness.

"Ah, there's a smile." he grinned as he knelt in front of you. "Everyone should technically have a mask coming in here, but we'll keep this a secret between us."

And your gray world gained a little more color when Jin came into your life.

You had worked in the Seoul branch of the Min Company for years, seemingly as a shadow. You had been one of the only ones who saw Mr. Jung for who he really was in the beginning, while others gossiped about his crabby personality. You knew there was more to him than that. But your crush was quickly hurtled towards the amicable and openly flirtatious Mr. Park. Although he claimed to have a girlfriend, you couldn't stop your feelings. Even if you felt ridiculous, you wanted to be close to him, wanted to get to know him.

Then he brought his girlfriend to the company party and to say you were crushed would be an understatement. You left the party early and ran to Club Masquerade once again.

But you continued to persist, hoping that he would notice you if you made yourself ever so present in his life. And that's when you decided to frequent the cafe where he always got his coffee from, something you had noticed from close observation.

"Mr. Park?"

Jimin turned, surprised.

"Oh my gosh. Hi!" You spotted his girlfriend at the counter. "Mr. Park's girlfriend! I can't remember your name."

"I never gave it." She mused. "How can I help you?"

Jimin burst out in laughter at her snark reply, but he played it off as a cough. You knew better, but you tried to save your face.

"He always came in with this brand of coffee so I wanted to try it for myself." You explained unnecessarily. "I didn't think he'd be coming here to see his girlfriend every morning! How sweet!"

"Yes, very." She curtly agreed. "What will you be having today?"

"Oh right. Whatever Mr. Park gets here." You blushed.

"Coming right up." She smiled warmly.

Your eyes followed Mr. Park who floated to where she was and they began bickering about something. Your lips turned downwards at the sight, wishing it was you he was close to instead. Then you straightened up when his gaze landed on you.

"See you at the office." He pointed at you and you couldn't help but beam, excited that he didn't forget about you.

His girlfriend then handed you your order and whispered, "You should give up. You're not his type."

You looked at her alarmed. How had she been able to tell from the few minutes you had been standing there?

"Well if you hurry you could probably walk with him to the office." She batted her eyes innocently. "Tell him his girlfriend sent you."

You blushed and sprinted out of the cafe, immensely embarrassed. Were the two of them just toying around with you?

So in an effort to get over your crush on unavailable Mr. Park and not make a further fool of yourself, you attempted to date around again, which hardly ever ended well. You fell too hard, too quickly, and always landed flat on your face because of it.

Receptionist pressed her earpiece as you once again rushed into the Club, distraught.

"Jin, your next client is already waiting for you in the room. Looks like another one of her dates went badly so come with the full break up kit."

"On it." Jin hurried out from the back worriedly.

And you constantly wondered when Jin would get irritated and tired of you coming in like this.

But he never did.

In fact, you weren't sure how it happened, but Jin became one of your closest friends.

"Yo." Jackson came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Jin raised an eyebrow as he was putting on his nightly face cream. "Jackson, what did I say about running around naked in the apartment?"

"I'm not naked!" He pointed to the towel. "My goods are covered."

Jin shook his head. "What'd you need?"

"I was just wondering about that customer you have that's always bawling her eyes out." Jackson plopped down on Jin's bed. "Why do you keep her?"

"What do you mean?" Jin questioned.

"I mean, you were a Consoler type until J-Hope graduated. That's the type of Host she wanted. But now you're our best Gentleman persona. Shouldn't you let a full time Consoler handle her?" Jackson asked.

"Mmm..." Jin hummed. "She was my first ever customer, and we've developed a bond of trust. She's been rejected by so many people --"

"Clearly." Jackson snorted.

Jin glared at him and Jackson looked away guiltily.

"I just don't want to be one of those people." Jin stated. "She's really cool when you get to know her."

"Bro, you've got balls." Jackson chuckled. "First, you're the only mask that uses his real name, and now you're the only mask that's taking on two roles. Respect."

Jin smiled. "Well, I didn't want to develop some 'fake' persona. I always want to be myself in everything I do."

Jackson nodded, "Props man, props."

Jin spun around, "How does it feel being the top Aggressor now that Nochu graduated?"

Jackson stretched. "It's a workout since his customers transferred over to me, but it's been good. The ladies love The Wang."

Jin burst into laughter. "I still can't believe you chose that name."

"What?" Jackson bellowed. "It's catchy. And joke all you want, but it makes perfect sense in the situation. Besides, you love puns so out of all people, I expect you to appreciate my genius."

"I do. I do." Jin waved his hand. "Now get your naked butt out of my room."

"Again, I'm not naked." he pointed. "There's a towel over The Wang's wang."

Jin cracked up, and Jackson, quite satisfied at making his roommate laugh, waltzed out of his room.

"Oh. Can you bring home left over bread and pastries from your store?!" Jackson bellowed.

"We never have leftovers though." Jin smirked proudly.

"You know what I mean. Steal some!"

"I can't steal from my own store. Pay me!" Jin answered.

"Fine! Just bring some! I've been craving them."

Jin grinned. "I told you you'd get hooked."

"I'd totally date you if you swung that way." Jackson replied.

Jin rolled his eyes. "Sure, sure."

"Hey, remember I made you into the city man you are now?! You need to appreciate me more!"

Kim Seokjin, the eldest son of a farm family, had arrived in Seoul after much contemplation and much inspiration from his beloved sister, Farm Girl. He had watched all his younger family members steadily achieve goal after goal of their own accord. He had been envious of their ambition, their intellect, and their passion, but had simply felt content in helping out on the farm for the longest time. It had been a set path for him after all -- to take over the family business. He didn't think of anything else.

But he soon began feeling left behind, stagnant, and aimless. Until Yoongi gave him a cookbook. A gnawing feeling of wanting more had always been present inside him, but as he held the book and as he began trying new recipes, learning more about the world of cooking, he realized what it was he wanted to do.

And so, he began confiding in Yoongi about his ideas and thoughts, to which the younger was supportive, encouraging, and helpful in providing valuable insight into what he needed to do to bring his aspirations to fruition. Later on, he gave Yoongi a letter with his well thought out proposal to open his own shop in the big city. He, too, wanted to chase his passions and try to achieve his dreams of making his small shop well-known, attending a prestigious culinary school, and maybe even becoming head chef of a restaurant.

But he had refused any monetary help from his future brother-in-law. He wanted to find success with his own hands and his own efforts. Instead, he asked Yoongi to reach out to any and all of his business partners, and send his proposal to them to get someone to sponsor, invest, and support his idea. Lo and behold, through the sea of rejections, one person signed the proposal and gave him a chance to open up a small bakery. And so, he immediately left for Seoul to find himself and his dreams.

Luckily, when Jin had reached out to Namjoon for possible places to stay in Seoul, Namjoon mentioned one of his closest friends was looking for a roommate. And not seeing any reason to refuse splitting the rent and having an immediate friend in a new place, Jin accepted.

"Wow, you're handsome. And tall!" Jackson gushed as Jin first stepped foot into the apartment. "But dude, your clothes...I know holes and stitches are in style, but we need to get you a make-over."

"What? Why would I need a make-over? My face is already handsome." Jin argued.

Jackson cracked up for a good five minutes. "I like you, Kim Seokjin. Namjoon said you were interesting and charming. He was definitely right."

He shook Jin's hand. "I'm Jackson Wang. And as your welcome present, let me please help you change your wardrobe so you could do your handsome face justice. Okay?"

Jin's lips curled up, "Well, I can't refuse if you're offering so adamantly."

Jackson laughed, "Just between me and you, it's Namjoon's card."

The two cackled all the way to the shopping district. And it truly was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

"Jin. Jin. Chef. CHEF!"

Jin was brought out from his reminiscing by his assistant, who was looking at him scoldingly with her arms crossed. "Can you please save your inner monologues for another time? It's almost opening time, and we have to finish two more batches of fresh bread!"

"Oh right, right." Jin chuckled. "Thanks, Crumbs."

She frowned at his usual nickname for her.

"What?" he grinned. "Did you like Ppang-Ppang better?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "There's an insanely long line outside already."

"What would I do without you?" Jin tilted her chef hat playfully as she huffed.

She chucked flour at him. "This is YOUR shop. Can you take it seriously?"

Jin laughed, "Everything will work out, Crumbs. I say it every day, and I've never been wrong."

She exhaled and went back to rolling dough. "Whatever you say, Boss."

Jin patted his hands on his apron and got to work as well.

Crumbs or Ppang-Ppang, to which Jin thought he was cleverly punny for making those nicknames for her, had been with him since the beginning. When he was just setting up the bakery, he was looking for assistants who could help him bake various pastries and bread. Since he was an unknown brand name, not many applicants came in. Those that did try however couldn't handle the speed, efficiency, and delicacy he expected in the kitchen. Then Crumbs waltzed in and was the perfect assistant. She was quick in the kitchen; she had her own flair, the passion to experiment with new flavors and ingredients, and on top of that, she was clean, organized, and determined to make each batch as delicious as the last. She was a blessing for which he was grateful for everyday. He knew that without her, his shop would be difficult to manage alone.

"You want to work the cash register today?" he teased.

She scrunched her face, and he chuckled.

"You just want me to say your face attracts more customers so you should take the register." she retorted.

"And yet, you still said it." He sung as he skipped outside to open up.

"Make sure you don't have flour on you!" she called out.

"Flour won't stop my beauty!" he bellowed.

"Oh boy." She simply sighed as she waited for the last batch to finish in the oven, listening to the excited bustling of the shop. "We need to hire another cashier if this keeps up."

"Oh, isn't he so handsome?" The customers gushed as they eyed Jin at the register while they chose their delicacies.

"I wonder if these people come here for the pastries or for the eye candy."

Jin beamed at the familiar voice. "Hoseok!"

"I come here diligently every morning, just for you my dear friend." Hoseok smiled as he placed his choices on the counter. "I got a bit more today 'cause Jimin keeps eating it when I turn around or leave our room for a second."

"Still the same, that Red Mask." Jin snorted.

"Oh? You're here too?" Jungkook appeared and hugged Hoseok from behind.

"Don't you have patrols to run in the morning?" Jin scowled at Jungkook's presence as he rung up the two's orders.

"My girlfriend asked me to buy her some so I'm stopping by the office to give it to her. She said it reminds her of home for some reason." Jungkook shrugged. "This is addicting, Jin."

"In that case, grab some extra for her." Jin smiled warmly. Jungkook looked at him skeptically at his softened tone. He coughed, "I mean anyone who could put up with your arrogant self needs some extra bread in her life."

Hoseok snorted. "On the contrary Jin, Jungkook becomes putty when it comes to women in the 'real' world."

"I'll have to see this for myself." Jin chuckled. "I can't imagine it."

"Next time you two go to the gym, put him right next to a female and you'll see him panic." Hoseok pointed.

"I've gotten better!" Jungkook argued.

"Oh right. Where's your mystery assistant? She's the one that makes the special bread of the day you said, right?" Hoseok questioned.

"Yeah. She's shy so she's always in the back thinking of new specials." Jin chuckled. "She never wants to be up here."

"Well, send her mine and Silver's compliments. Yesterday's special was amazing." Hoseok gave a thumbs up.

"I'll let her know." Jin grinned proudly.

"Well, good luck. I'll catch you at the gym later." Jungkook waved.

Hoseok and Jungkook chummily exited the bake shop, their handsomeness capturing many of the customer's attention.

"They're taken ladies and gents." Jin commented with a chuckle. "Sorry."

There was a collective disappointed "Awww" within the store.

Jin yawned as he was about to close up for the day, but his eyes bulged out as he spotted you running into the store, disheveled, and wet from the pouring rain.

"I'M SORRY! I KNOW YOU'RE CLOSING!" You heaved. "I ran here after work because I woke up late and didn't have time to wait on the line this morning, or else I would've been late and--"

Jin simply smiled and flipped the sign to "Closed". "I'll get you your usual."

You blinked, surprised. "You know my usual?"

Jin blushed as he hurried to grab what he knows you usually get. "Um, I know all my regulars' usual orders."

"I'm sorry. I'm soaking and you're going to have more work to clean up..." You mumbled shyly, standing awkwardly at the entrance.

"No, come in. You'll help the floor get wet so you're saving us an extra step." Jin grinned and beckoned you over to the register.

You would be lying if you didn't find him attractive, but other than the usual small talk, you hadn't gotten to know the cute baker. Maybe it was a good thing you had woken up late today. He was kind, friendly, and funny. And just for a bit, his attention was solely on you. But you wished you weren't soaked like a wet dog during this opportune moment.

Timidly, you shuffled to the counter to pay for your order.

"Just heat it up before you eat it. And if you want --" he pointed to the umbrella by the door. "--take my umbrella. I wouldn't want you getting sick."

"Oh no." You gushed. "I couldn't. What about you?"

"I'll be fine. I don't live too far. I'm sure you have a long commute." he stated.

"How'd you know?" You blinked.

"Oh. Um..." Jin averted his eyes, mentally kicking himself. "I mean some people who live close by could wake up late and still have time to wait in line, so I just assumed you lived far since you couldn't stop by before work."

Your lips curled up. "You're good."

"I threw in an extra pie in there." Jin winked as he handed her the bag. "For your commute."

You grinned. "Thank you."

"Take the umbrella. Soggy pastries won't taste good." he urged.

You chuckled. "I mean if you put it that way. How can I say no?"

Jin smiled.

"I'll return it in the morning. I promise." You bowed as you scurried giddily out of the store.

Jin sighed and slumped over his counter.

"You're such a creep." Crumbs stepped out of the kitchen.

"Why were you listening?"

"Not like I have anything else to listen to in the kitchen. Rising dough isn't exactly noisy." she snorted. "Then I heard your ridiculous statement of knowing everyone's usuals."

Jin huffed.

"So I'm guessing that's the chick you're banging even though she has no idea what you look like?" Crumbs started cleaning up.

Jin coughed at the sudden attack, "How do you remember everything I say?!"

"Maybe you should be careful who you're around when you get drunk after work." Crumbs chuckled. "Luckily it was only us 'cause all your friends are coupled up, except for you."

"You're not either." he pouted.

"By choice." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I'm perfectly content being single."

Jin scoffed.

"But someone looks like he's developed a crush on his client." She playfully gasped. "How tragic."

"Shut up." Jin shook his head. "It's not a crush. I just have a soft spot for her. She's been through a lot."

"Whatever you say, Boss." Crumbs smirked.

"It's NOT." Jin argued.

"Why're you such a baby?" she retorted. "And what're you going to do without an umbrella, Mr. Smooth?"

Jin pulled out his cell phone. "I'm going to call Jackson."

"Ugh." Crumbs groaned. "Please wait until I get out of here."

"Don't take it personally." Jin laughed. "He professed his love for me after seeing me naked one time. I'm sure your cooking skills amazed him into proposing."

"Every single time?" She shook her head. "And you gave him my number! I don't appreciate that!"

"I swear I didn't! He took it from my phone!" Jin responded.

She huffed.

"You want a ride home? Jackson said he'll drive us." Jin grinned.

Crumbs contemplated.

"You know you're going to give in. You don't pass up a free ride home ever." Jin pointed out.

She sighed, "You're right. Fine. But I'm sitting in the back."

Jin giggled, "I promise, he's harmless."

You sat in the subway, grinning widely at your stroke of luck. Although it wasn't much, you confirmed that the attractive baker knew you existed and even trusted you enough to lend you his umbrella. Holding the bag to your chest, you inhaled to try to hold in the butterflies fluttering around your stomach. But instead, it rumbled, signaling that it was hungry after your long day. You received odd looks from the other passengers. Looking down, you reached into the bag to quell your hunger so as not to disturb anyone with your noisy stomach anymore.

You smiled at the pastry you held, remembering your encounter with Kim Taehyung, the fantastic vet, and the man who had given up this exact pastry because you clumsily dropped yours. You had taken initiative to see him again, only to find that he was one of the head surgeons of the animal hospital now, so it was rare for him to just take check-up appointments. But you had caught glimpse of him in passing, and he was even more shockingly gorgeous than you remembered. His hair was slightly longer than when you first had bumped into him, and since he had just gotten out of the surgery room, it had been swept up to reveal his forehead.

But sadly, you hadn't been able to see him since. You would often wonder how he was doing and if you would be able to run into him coincidentally again.

"Um are you just going to smile at that, or are you going to eat it?" One of the passengers spoke up.

You turned red as people chuckled at the person's comment, and at your odd behavior. Squishing your body as small as possible, you started eating your pastry, extremely embarrassed.

"Hey!" Jin kissed you as you entered Club Masquerade.

You smiled as your hands slotted into his. "Hey."

"As requested, the room is set up as a casual living room." Jin bowed as he gestured for her to enter the room.

"You never disappoint me, Jin." You grinned.

"Only the best for you, of course." he chuckled. "So I see you had a good day since you aren't whining as soon as you come in."

You pushed him playfully. "I don't always come in here whining."

Jin gave you a knowing look, and you conceded. "Fine. I often do."

"I'll take it." He settled beside you. "Since you're in a good mood, what would you like to do?"

You hugged him and lay your head on his broad chest. "Just...maybe stay like this."

Jin's lips curled up as he rubbed your back. It always amazed you how he had come to know and understand you so well.

"Jin?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think some people are meant to be alone?"

He hummed, "I think some people choose to be alone, because it's not something they prioritize or want in life. I don't think anyone is meant to be alone. People are social creatures after all."

"I hope you're right." You nuzzled closer to him. "Why aren't you taken yet? I feel like girls would fall at your feet."

Jin chuckled. "I guess the right one hasn't come along for me either. Plus I haven't really been looking."

"Oh? Why not?" You glanced up curiously.

"Mmm I don't know. I guess I've always had the mentality of 'if it happens, it happens'?" he shrugged.

You sighed. "Lucky. I have the mentality that if I don't do something, it's never going to happen."

Jin nodded, "I guess there are some things that won't happen unless you make it happen and grab hold of it."

"But sadly, sometimes people take advantage of your obvious interest." You frowned.

"Hey, you're a courageous woman. Take pride in that." Jin complimented.

"I don't know about that..." you mumbled.

Jin clicked his tongue. "What did I say about taking compliments?"

You smiled, "Thank you."

Jin nodded in approval. "Better. Not many people can take the leap like you do. So even if you failed a few times, at least you tried and took the risk. You'd be surprised how many people are stuck in 'what ifs'."

You lifted your head up to stare at him. "I never thought of it like that."

"Aren't I great?" he teased.

You smacked his chest. "You, sir, need to wait for compliments instead of giving them to yourself."

"It's my charm." Jin grinned.

"That's true." You straddled him and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Are you stuck in a 'what if' now?"

"Mmm..." Jin leaned forward. "I'm wondering 'what if I wanted to kiss you right now? Would you kiss me back?'"

"That's not even a what if." You chuckled as you captured his lips with yours. "It's a certainty."

Jin grinned as he unbuttoned your shirt slowly. "And what if I wanted to make you feel even better than you do right now?"

"I would welcome that openly." You whispered as you helped him undress you.

Jin peppered kisses throughout your entire body, not sparing any part of your skin from his large, plump lips. Jin was the one person who had always been there for you, even when you had bared your soul, when you were at your most vulnerable. His touch was always careful and tender, and for the moment, you deluded yourself into believing he loved you. You knew he cared for you deeply, that you two had developed a bond, but another part of you wondered how much of it was his job and how much of it was real.

But you let yourself fall into the delusion, because it was so much better than the reality that awaited you outside of Club Masquerade.

So you reveled in the way his hands roamed your body, the way with each thrust, both of you would moan with pleasure, perfectly in sync, perfectly connected. You pulled him deeper into you, wanting him to fill you up, and he obliged, pushing in as much as your walls allowed him to and with a little more force; his lips never leaving yours unless it was to gasp, groan, or moan. When you came, your entire body was filled with immense jitters-- butterflies-- your heart soared, and your mind was blank from all thoughts except for how fantastic you were feeling. It was absolute bliss.

And it was always bittersweet parting from him, from your little haven away from the cruel world. But it also made you wonder how long you would be content with this transient type of relationship. As constant as Jin was, you knew he wasn't yours.

"Bundle up. It's chilly now." Jin tightened your scarf around your neck.

"Thanks." You smiled as you pushed out your lips. Jin chuckled and knowingly gave you a chaste kiss to bid you goodbye.

"Get home safely." he waved.

You stole another kiss from him before scurrying out the door.

You shivered as you felt the brisk night air. Dogs were heard barking in the distance and your mind was whisked back once again to thoughts of Taehyung. Even though you only spoke to him briefly, something in your heart stirred in that moment in time. You snorted. There you go again, falling for someone you hardly knew. Would he even remember you? Would he even want to see you again? You exhaled as you pulled your jacket closed.

A gust of wind knocked your hair into your face and you flailed around trying to regain your vision. Once you were free from your entangled hair, you realized you were standing in front of a building by Club Masquerade you had always passed but never took a good look at. You moved closer curiously at the bright neon sign, and the seemingly packed venue, wondering what it was exactly.

Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks and whipped your head towards the window as you spotted a familiar figure pass by. Rubbing your eyes, you prayed you weren't hallucinating. You gasped as Jungkook came into view as well, both of them carrying trays of drinks and laughing at something. Pressing your face closer to the window, it became more evident that the person who had caught your eye was, in fact, Kim Taehyung.

You had found him.

PART 2

159 notes · View notes

piahautea · 6 years

Text

Appreciation Post: My Lovely Barkada

I’ve always been the stick-to-one type of friend.

Back during the first two years of junior high, you’d only see me with just one friend. One lunch buddy, one fair week constant, one automatic partner, one let’s-go-to-the-library-during-intrams-instead co-lazy bum, one companion and one everything. But never really the more meaningful ones like: a confidante, a tell-me-your-secrets-they’re-safe-with-me type of chill, a laughing comrade or a wingman /pagdating sa mga crushes na iyan/. That was until I met each of the cartoon people above.

This post is dedicated to them. The not-so-small barkada I never thought I’d have. They've also been so supportive of my blogging ever since and I want y’all to meet them! Somehow you may also try to see a part of yourself in them with their little intro’s /but that's only if you want to/.

A little disclaimer by the way: Their art banners are filled with silly deets about them while their actual descriptions are a lot graver; although, it's still sounding a lot like silly Pea wrote them, aye.

This is Leila. Leila’s been one of my best friends since 10th grade. I never thought we’d be in the friendship situation we have now because I only thought surface-level bros were all we'd ever be. But, nah. What are those for anyway? She was the quietly-acing-my-way-in-the-honor-rolls type. And, well, I was trying so hard to be that student. But we just randomly sparked up a convo about my blog and her love for Niall Horan and then she became my confidante in an instant with her shipping me so hard with a Tumblr boy that I used to like. In the things I thought highly impossible for myself, she believed I could turn them around in my favor and she stood there behind me with her hand on my back. She’s the best. I still wish she'd become a doctor, even though she's already faced towards a different track.

This is Margaux. When she spots you and you tickle her fancy, she’d probably talk to you. Basically, that's what happened to us. We were just batchmates in the same baking class. That changed when we bumped into each other at a charm store; she saw me first, tapped my back and said, “Hi!” like it’s nothing. Post the little meeting and the year after, we became classmates. And then I knew that smiling was her best asset and her laughter was her best type of music. She’d made me cookies and a chocolate-mint birthday cake for my 18th because that’s her. You hear little words and phrases like pastries, being top-level artsy, beauty queen pageants, genuine grins, dressing up for fun and you got it. That’s still gonna be her.

This is Froilan. If you know me well enough, you’d know that this dude’s been one of my constants since the beginning of time /‘di naman haha since 9th grade lang siguro/. You'll see him almost everywhere I go and part of almost everything I do. We’ve also been constantly teased by past classmates about us having that chemistry and that maybe we were already secretly a couple. All I can say is, nope. We’re merely bros. I love him, though. In the gayest way possible. He’s amazing in general. He loves getting and slaying the D so much. Drawing, dancing and designing *wink wink*. I’m never afraid to be myself when I’m with him and for that I’m eternally thankful. He’s also my punching bag hehe he enjoys the force of my knuckles kissing and smashing his fudge brownie skin /poetic/.

This is Nesli. She’s the first friend I’ve ever made in our circle. We’ve been together since the 7th grade and mutually sworn to be each other’s best friends during 8th grade. She’s also one of my confidantes. And the one who’s literally seen me in the good, the bad & the ugly and has still loved me no matter what. She has a heart large enough to fit in giraffes, all her favorite Filipino & European dishes, historical fiction books, her family, her art, her hoes and all her other friends. She’s my happy pill, tbfh. She’s going to make it big in the animations field or in any other field because she’s that flexible. She can write, draw, paint /in both the common mediums/, care for wildlife and humanity vividly. It's such a cakewalk to believe in what she's capable of because when she dreams, she dreams with her eyes open and with stellar passion running freely in her veins.

This is Brian. He’s one of my sister’s former tutees. I’ve heard stuff about him being sassy and loud /which he was/, but our friendship was a bit like of a plot twist. An unexpected thing. Although believe me when I say this: my sister predicted that we’d be the best of friends in the future. And she was right about it. 9th grade and I can still fondly remember it all. We’d sit in a corner where people weren't around to sing Defying Gravity because it was his fave and I was his fave duet partner, too. Sooner or later, we begun that singing routine. He easily became the person I’d always wanna sing with and now he’s worked his way to get into theater by switching schools for both SHS and college. I love my theater geek friend /who apparently knows how to get wasted now/. And I miss having to deal with him and his antics everyday.

This is Gia. Being friends with her was also an unexpected one. She’s quiet and was only the closest to Cather /you’ll get know her later/. We’d never really had those talk-talks until the final years of junior high. She lent me her copy of To Kill A Mockingbird and it opened me to widen my reading choices. We also discovered each others’ love for indie/alternative rock music. She loves Nirvana, blink-182 and The Killers and it killed me. I’d also boast to those who love her brother’s band from the indie OPM scene that I’m friends with the vocalist’s baby sister because Hello? it’s not everyday you get to be friends with someone who has blood thick and rich of musical notes and art. She's an epitome of those two things.

This is Mika. Mika was Froilan’s friend first. And then she randomly talked to me in class and we became instant friends who loved hugging each other. She’s the type to get crafty and make you keychains or little drawings of your favorite things for Christmas or your birthday. She’s the sweetest soul and she likes to share stories with you; it doesn’t matter how long you’ll chatter with her. She’s also super smart! She helps me with all the Math help I needed back when we still had to take Math. You would just never see an honor roll without her in it. And yes, she had a phase with Big Time Rush back in junior high. But now, it seems like she’s also been bitten by another Kpopper /probably a friend from outside the circle/. She's the kind of treasure I'd like to keep with me anywhere I go.

This is Carmela. This one’s another plot twist kind of friendship. Like Margaux, she’s also extremely loud and friendly. Like randomly-popping-into-your-face kind of friendly. She’s chatty but it’s a reasonable kind of chatter. She also dances like a pro. I envy her grace on the floor and the flat stomach she'd cultivated out of that. We may not have the same amount of time as we had before but we see to it that no matter how busy we are, we’d never fail to exchange short stories and warm hugs when we see each other. Also, yes, she is my co-bully when it comes to Froilan. Everything she does to put him in artless misery cracks me up every time /that’s how we roll/.

This is Seline. I’ve only known her this year but since then, she’s already been one of my closest friends in class. We just vibe well and we could talk about anything in the pop culture spectrum or just anything Tumblr and art-related. I love how her mind just works like a charm and concocts puns real quick. I love how she'd update me and tell me stories about her dogs and their newborn puppies because we share the same love for these critters and it just makes me giddy every time. Because of her, I’m starting to rethink my stances on animated films /because I’m not big on those/. She makes some of the greatest digital artworks I’ve ever seen and I can’t wait to have more cafe adventures with her and our other amigos and to visit her in Benilde by the time we reach college.

This is Cather(ine). Like Nesli, we’ve been friends since 7th grade and best girls since the 8th. She’s the cutest /next to my spot/ in the group and makes equally-adorable reactions to everything she sees. It kind of takes her a while to do almost everything she has to do but it adds up to how she handles anything with the utmost love and care not anyone would ever spare time for. She's also loud whenever she opens her mouth to speak /e.g. when we're in the car and it's quiet, she would completely ignore the silence and start a quickfire with her words but that's okay because she can never be irritating to me at all/. I love her that much. I hope she’d find solace in the fact that she’s a bright, bright kiddo who would slay any scientific fate she’d choose. I’d always have her back as she's always had mine.

When we met, it suddenly just made sense to meet altogether, too. It wasn't like our personalities were so similar with the other that we just had to gather around a campfire and talk about starting a tribe or something. Our personalities differ; but in such a way that we complement each other, filling gaps that needed a little something of this or that. But about the tribe thing, yes we do gather. Annually. For Christmas. And it has to be in a different house each year until we get to be in everyone's humble abodes.

Ladies & gents, this is my second ohana. My very own battle cohort. Top 1 in my small list of kada’s. My most favorite non-blood related people in the universe. I used to be a stick-to-one kind of person. Now, I'm mostly a stick-to-ten.

#friends #personal

34 notes · View notes

easyfoodnetwork · 4 years

Text

Food, It Turns Out, Has Little to Do With Why I Love to Travel

It’s the people that make a place — but these days, human interaction is hard to come by

I used to love to travel. I’d wander through new cities for days on end, eating and drinking (but mostly eating) in four-seat izakayas, farm-driven pizzerias, southern seafood halls, and boat noodle cafes, talking to locals and walking for miles. Restaurants have always been my joyous entry point to a place and its people. The food, I thought, was what made me love to explore the world.

That slowly fading memory — what it felt like to discover a new city, stomach first — is what excited me about going out on the road again, which I did a couple months ago, driving from Los Angeles to Corsicana, Texas and back, stopping to eat in places like Albuquerque, Amarillo, El Paso, and Phoenix.

Let me be clear: I absolutely would not and do not recommend frivolous travel. In my case, a looming publishing deadline on The Bludso Family Cookbook is what sent me on the long, not-so-winding road to Texas in the midst of a global pandemic, where I would be staying with my longtime friend, mentor, colleague, and big brother Kevin Bludso. Once there, we would be cooking, writing, recipe testing, interviewing, living together, and, in all likelihood, drinking a fair quantity of brown spirits at the end of each night (please, someone get that man a Hennessy sponsorship).

I’ve spent the better part of the last 15 years working in the food industry in one capacity or another. I’ve been a bartender, server, chef, culinary director, restaurant consultant, cookbook author, and food writer. My plan since last year had been to continue writing and consulting on the side, but also to finally open my own restaurant. Nothing extravagant. Something small and intimate. A humble, comforting place of my own — clean and well-lit, a true neighborhood restaurant where people can get to know each other, where the food and the service is unassuming and genuine, something with no desire for expansion or duplication. I consider myself unbelievably lucky that I didn’t open a restaurant right before the pandemic hit.

Instead, I’ve spent the last several months at home, making a quarantine cooking show with my wife called Don’t Panic Pantry. It’s been a good distraction, but I thought a work-related excuse to drive through the American Southwest and its expansive desert would be a cleansing, meditative, soul-resetting break from what I’d begun to think of as perpetual purgatory.

I took every precaution. A nasal-swab COVID test right before I departed. I also hopefully still had antibodies (my wife and I both had COVID-19 way back in March). It was, at the very least, the polite thing to do: Get tested before joining someone in their home for two weeks.

I had planned on driving straight through Arizona from LA, avoiding anything except gas stations until I made it to New Mexico, surviving on a sturdy mix of cold brew and air conditioning to keep me awake. I’d never been to New Mexico before. I’d pored over Instagram photos of chile-drenched Southwestern Mexican food, enchiladas oozing with melted cheese, their red and green chile sauces popping with Instagram photo-editing exposure. My usual pre-trip Google map was loaded with thoroughly researched restaurants along my route. In earlier times, I’d have peppered each map point with essential info like hours of operation and must-order dishes; now, I was looking up intel like outdoor seating, takeout quality, and, most crucially, whether or not a place had managed to stay open at all.

I had slowly but gradually heaped unreasonable expectations on a green chile cheeseburger.

I left with a bullish heart. But each stop to fuel up took away a notch of my optimism-fueled excitement and replaced it with caution. Each person in a mask made me a little more depressed; each person without, a little angrier.

Ten hours in and I had made it to New Laguna, New Mexico. I stopped at Laguna Burger, an iconic mini-chain inside of a gas station. It’s a fast-food place to be sure, but according to old photos online there used to be stools set up against the counter, and even a couple of tables and a few chairs. Those are, of course, gone now — pushed to the side of the room and leaving in their place a vacuous emptiness, even for a gas-station dining room. The staff was nice but appropriately wary. I did not partake in the self-serve Kool-Aid pickle jar. I got my food and then sat in my car, emotionally deflated and no longer very excited to eat my first-ever green chile burger — something I had wanted to try for years.

Ordering a burger at a place like this was supposed to be a tiny gateway into the culture and personality of the place, however small that sampling was going to be. There is an emotional atmosphere, a vibe, that’s specific to each and every restaurant, and I had perhaps never been so truly aware that such a thing existed until I noticed it had been zapped entirely from this one. In its place was a blanket of nervous, sad precaution — added to, I’m sure, by my own nervousness.

So I sat in my car with my sack of food, gloomily disappointed even before the first bite. They forgot to salt the fries and it felt oddly appropriate. In this moment, to no fault of the restaurant itself, the food didn’t matter. It couldn’t have. I had slowly but gradually heaped unreasonable expectations on a green chile cheeseburger, wanting it to justify a 12-hour drive and to somehow soothe an anxious mind. But the food, it occurred to me, wasn’t what I was after at all.

Later on, in Albuquerque, I picked up a four-pack of beer from Arrow Point Brewing and received the now familiar and appropriate treatment: measured, cautious polite gratitude. It was a transaction, appreciated by both sides, but with a higher degree of precondition from both sides as well. I followed it up with a takeout bag of enchiladas and a taco from the beloved and iconic Duran’s Pharmacy, taking them back to the motel room I checked myself into earlier. It was 5:30 p.m. The enchiladas had sloshed in the bag. I took a bite and understood: It was comforting, but not nearly enough. Like being single and reconnecting with an ex, only to both immediately discover that there’s nothing there anymore — two empty vessels with no connection beyond a memory.

I took a sip of beer and fell asleep for an hour. When I awoke the city had turned dark and I knew there was no point in going anywhere. The world felt dystopian and deflated. I’d left my redundant, loving, comfortable bubble to experience life alone on the road, and all I wished was that I was right back there with my wife and my dog.

When my wife and I had COVID-19, we lost our sense of smell and taste for a bit. It was, as my wife put it, “a joyless existence.” Now I had my taste back, but somehow the joy of eating was still gone.

The enchiladas, in a box, alone, on the floor of my motel, were just enchiladas. Because here’s a thing I’ve come to understand of late: context really does affect flavor. A place, its atmosphere, the people within it, their mood (and ours) genuinely change the way things taste. A restaurant lasagna has to be twice as good as your mother’s — or that one you had on that trip to Italy — for it to remind you of it even a little. A rack of smoked pork ribs will never taste as good on a ceramic plate atop a tablecloth as it does from within a styrofoam box on the hood of your car, downwind from a roadside smoker. I hope that I never find out what Waffle House tastes like while sober, eaten in broad daylight.

So as it turns out, when it comes to my lifelong love of food and travel, the food might not have mattered — not to the degree I thought it did, anyway. Not without everything that goes along with it. The surly bartender in the dark room who fries your chicken behind the bar at Reel M Inn in Portland while a guy two seats down makes fun of you for being from California is a huge part of why that might be my favorite fried chicken in the world. The friend of a friend who abandoned his family (thanks Marc!) to drive a stranger, me, around Toronto for two days and show off the city’s outstanding versions of goat roti (from Mona’s Roti) and bún riêu cua (from Bong Lua) makes me realize that yes, the food is outstanding, but that it’s the people — excited to show off their hometown, its restaurants, and their community — who make travel worthwhile.

Would Tokyo be my favorite eating city in the world if my now-wife and I hadn’t befriended two total strangers in a six-seat dive bar, knocking back cocktails until we both threw up, only to come through to the other side fully bonded over late-night grilled pork skewers with another stranger who gave me his business card and said that he had been eating in this stall for over a decade? What is a bar without a bartender? It’s just, well, being home.

The restaurant business can be both horrible and wonderful. It pays poorly, it requires incredibly long hours, and in many instances, you are going broke while making food for people who complain that it’s too expensive. But it is, as Anthony Bourdain often said, the Pleasure Business. It has always been a place for camaraderie, human connection, and community. Those were the things that made the nearly unbearable parts of our business worthwhile — and that connection, when you can have a genuine one between staff and customer, is what I think everyone really, truly wants out of the transaction. Those things still exist, I suppose, but all at arm’s length, or across an app.

I still eventually want to open my own restaurant. I think. But maybe I just want to open my memory of what it would have been in a different, earlier world. I don’t want to be a dinosaur, yearning for the good old days. But I also don’t want to live in a world where a third-party tech company stands between the restaurant and its customer. I don’t want someone to visit my city and think that a robot delivering them a sandwich is the best that we have to offer. I don’t want to have to download an app to order a cup of fucking coffee. Human connection, it turns out, is essential too, and we need to find a way to make it a part of our essential businesses again.

So what, in the midst of a health and humanitarian catastrophe, can we do? Well, we can decide where we spend our money. We support human connection and small businesses. We pick up takeout with our own hands from the places and the people that we love (safely, responsibly). We know that it is just gauze pressed against an open, oozing knife wound, but we try anyway.

So we travel because we have to, whether for work or as a needed break from monotony, and we reset our expectations, we open ourselves up to receiving that connection, we seek out the places that are adapting and we smile through our masks, and ask each other how we are doing, if only to show that somebody cares.

When I eventually made it to Corsicana, Texas, hoisting a large bag of dried red New Mexico chiles, I was greeted with an engulfing hug by Kevin Bludso; it was the first truly comforting thing that happened on the whole trip. I melted into the arms of my friend. I was back in a bubble, connected to something.

I spent two glorious weeks in that bubble, taking turns doing Peloton workouts and then drinking vegetable smoothies, before recipe-testing dishes like Fried Whole-Body Crappie and Ham Hock Pinto Beans; researching Kevin’s family history and then, true to form, sipping rye (me) and Hennessy (him) before I had to head home. Kevin’s food was outstanding, but it was made all the better by the time spent together cooking it. So when I readied myself to get out on the road again, my expectations had changed. I knew the food alone could only do so much.

This disease has been a reflection and amplifier of all of our weak points — and the restaurant business is certainly no different. This industry was already ripe with flaws. It has been teetering on the brink of a seismic shift for years — COVID-19 just accelerated it, and all the platitudes, Instagram stories, and false optimism won’t fix anything. But there have always been bad restaurants as well as good restaurants. I suppose it’s no different now. Yet it is maybe just a little bit harder to give and to be open to receiving the human connection that makes the whole experience worthwhile.

I hope that I never find out what Waffle House tastes like while sober, eaten in broad daylight.

I hit the road early, and after about 10 and a half hours, fueled by caffeine, Christopher Cross, and Bonnie Raitt — with one depressing pit stop in El Paso at the famed H&H Car Wash, where an old curmudgeon out front insisted I take off my mask before going inside — I arrived in Las Cruces, at La Nueva Casita Café. I called ahead, hoping not to have to wait so I could just grab my food and get back on the road. My guard was still up, but then the woman on the other end of the phone was so charming and kind that I was immediately disarmed. She graciously steered me toward the chile relleno burrito (“it’ll be the easiest one to eat in the car”). A few minutes later I came inside to pick up my food and the two women behind the counter were, frankly, a delight. I paid, and was promptly handed my food and thanked with genuine, casual appreciation for coming in. The burrito was excellent.

Bolstered by the kindness of strangers, I drove another five and a half hours into Phoenix. As a bit of an obsessive pizza maker (I had the tremendous fortune to train with Frank Pinello of Best Pizza in Williamsburg, and also had a hand in helping to open Prime Pizza in Los Angeles), I was here to try the new 18-inch New York-style fusion pie by the great Chris Bianco at their Pane Bianco outpost on Central.

Just as at La Nueva Casita Café, the staff was friendly, genuine, helpful, and kind. In retrospect, it took so little but it meant so much. When I expressed a need for caffeine, they sent me next door to Lux Central for a large iced coffee, where the barista talked to me from a responsible distance, wished me a safe drive, and gave me a free blueberry muffin. Even eaten in my car, Chris’s pizza was truly outstanding — crisp, thin, and pliable, successfully pulling off the New York-modern Neapolitan (ish) fusion that, in lesser hands, turns into an 18-inch bowl of soup.

I drove the last six hours home, finding myself encouraged by these final two restaurant experiences, excited by what the best in our industry are still somehow capable of in spite of everything. It was, frankly, inspirational to find genuine interaction, care, and kindness in this new reality.

It reminds me of my mother, actually. I remember when I was a kid, she would pick up the phone to call a restaurant, or Blockbuster Video, to ask them a question. I would always hear her say something like: “Hi Randy! How are you today?” and I would say, “Mom! Do you know him?” and she would shake her head no. Then she would say, “Oh that’s great to hear, Randy. Hey listen, what time do you close today?” My brother and I used to make fun of her for that — for forcing this connection with someone she had no real relationship with beyond an exchange of services. Now, I plan to do exactly that, whenever and wherever I can.

Noah Galuten is a chef, James Beard Award-nominated cookbook author, and the co-host of Don’t Panic Pantry. Nhung Le is a Vietnamese freelance illustrator based in Brooklyn, NY.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/34Oc66Q https://ift.tt/34RJ8TD

It’s the people that make a place — but these days, human interaction is hard to come by

I had slowly but gradually heaped unreasonable expectations on a green chile cheeseburger.

I hope that I never find out what Waffle House tastes like while sober, eaten in broad daylight.

Noah Galuten is a chef, James Beard Award-nominated cookbook author, and the co-host of Don’t Panic Pantry. Nhung Le is a Vietnamese freelance illustrator based in Brooklyn, NY.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/34Oc66Q via Blogger https://ift.tt/314xEef

#Blogger #cooking #Eater #food #recipes

0 notes