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lebrookestore · 3 years

Text

tape 5: play

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x reader

Themes: angst, ex! au, college-ish au, small town au. It goes back and forth a lot

Warnings: heavy angst, bittersweet ending, swearing, its very sad, chenle is a jerk

Wc: 6k

Playlist: 2 kids by Taemin, Gone by Rosé, Instagram by Dean, I still do by Why Don’t We, Believed by Lauv

Taglist: @danishmiilk @channoticedmeuwu @chicksung @1-800-seo @blueprint-han @jenosslut @cupidluvstarrz @kkakkdugi @sweetlyjaem @vera-liscious @leetaeyonglover @kunrengui @unknown5tar @kisshim @intokook @mrkcore @coco-riki

Summary: A year after your boyfriend moved away, you find yourself sitting in your room with five tapes, earphones, a cassette player and what you hoped, and feared, was closure.

Authors Note: hello! this fic was supposed to be a small blurb but then i got inspired and lo and behold its a full fledged fic! I can’t believe I wrote this in two days sdfjfjkfjk. Feedback would be very much appreciated for this, since I’ve never written anything like this before ;-;

Midtown, almost got a place out of midtown, Instead I took a plane out of this town, And missed out on us

It was a sunny Saturday morning, as you pulled into your driveway, coming back from the store.

Parking the car and getting the bags, you walked up to the door, knocking it and waiting. You were met with your mother’s smiling face as she took one of the bags of groceries from you.

You lived in a small sleepy town, and attended the college there as well, which meant you still stayed with your parents. You were fine with that, you liked living there, and you could forgo the stress and anxiety of having to re adjust to a new place.

This was your home. It always had been.

Of course, you had been on holidays to other places, you had visited the other town, but when it came to it, you had always found yourself back where you started. There was no other place for you, there never would be.

It was the truth, but it held something bitter.

Then again, you had enough going on already, with being in your freshman year, straight out of high school, college life was very different. You had been to a total of two parties so far, courtesy of your best friend— Lia— dragging you with her.

You had enjoyed them, but it wasn’t something you would voluntarily participate in again.

The workload was something that had definitely changed, bogged down with mandatory lectures and assignments, tests popping up like a bad smell, you had more than enough to occupy you.

“Something has arrived for you!” Your mother said, almost excitedly, “It’s on the table.”

You helped her put away the groceries, walking to your living room, eyes falling on the package sitting on the table. It was somewhat shabbily wrapped, with tape haphazardly stuck on it to keep it together, and a tag pasted on the top.

Picking it up, you pass it from your right hand to your left, feeling its weight, reading the little tag. It held your address, your name and another name you hadn’t seen in almost a year.

Your mind ran at a hundred miles per minute, wondering why it was here, why his name was on it. It made no sense to you.

“Darling? Are you okay?”

Your mothers voice snapped out of your reverie, nodding slowly, “I’ll be in my room, finishing off a project”, you said carefully, trying not to show any sort of emotion as you climbed up the stairs of your house, two at a time, making sure not to drop the package.

Closing the door, you place it on your bed, reading over the tag again, a bitter taste filling your mouth. A name you hadn’t thought of in a year coming back now. It was so random, so absolutely unnecessary.

You curled your fingers around the messy brown paper, tearing it open as your mind reeled. The crackling sound filled the silence as the contents of it make itself known to you.

A shoebox.

It’s dusty, a dark blue colour with a line of red running at its side. There were two holes on either end, lined with metal piping and you could just about make out the nike symbol on the top. You brushed your hand over it, the dust coming off easily and sticking to your fingers.

Why would he send you this?

His name sticks out on the tag like a sore thumb, reminding you of what you lost, mocking you. Always content with where you are, hmm? His voice comes back, as clear as day. It’s as if he’s standing there, giving you his chesire cat grin as he spoke the words.

Zhong Chenle.

Lifting the lid off the box, you’re thrown into confusion. A cassette player, a pair of earphones, and five tapes. Picking up the player, you smile briefly at the dramatic set up. He could’ve called you, or sent a message, so why did he take the pains of sending you something as old and unnecessary as this?

Then again, it had been a year since he stopped picking up your calls, since you stopped trying to call him. A year since all contact had been cut off, as if he had never existed in the first place.

Sometimes you wondered if Chenle had been a hallucination. An imaginary friend.

Friend.

The questions filter in. Why? It had been a year, so why had he sent you this now? You had finally told yourself you were over it, that you didn’t need an answer, but somehow as soon as you did that, you found yourself sitting in your room on your bed with what could be it.

The tapes were numbered in permanent marker in his messy handwriting, from one to five, indicating the order in which they were to be listened to in. You picked up the first, slotting it in the player and waiting.

You didn’t know what you were waiting for.

You pressed play. There was crackling, but only for a moment, until it went silent. Maybe this was all a mistake, maybe this wasn’t even happening. Maybe-

i] tape 1: you deserve to hate me

Hey

His voice cut through your spiraling thoughts as you froze in place. He sounded the same as you last heard him, a little muffled due to the recording but the same. At the same time he sounded like a stranger. There was silence for a moment again, before he spoke up.

This is stupid isn’t it?

You felt the urge to answer, but your mouth went dry. It had been so, so long, and even though you had adequate time to get over him, it suddenly felt as if you were treading unfamiliar territory once again.

I-I don’t know why I’m doing this. I think it’s because I feel so horrible, I need an outlet. I guess speaking it into existence and recording it makes is my outlet. Making it all real.

But that’s fucking terrifying.

You don’t think you’re following, confused once again.

Y/n

You hear him take a deep breath right after your name, and it sends a chill down your spine, hearing him say your name once again. You had almost forgotten how it sounded.

I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this, or listen to it. If you don’t I’ll actually be glad. You don’t deserve to, I’ve been a jerk to you. I’m sorry. I hope you hate me, I definitely deserve it.

I’m moving in two months.

The realization hits you, this had been recorded a year ago as well, two months before he left without a word or warning. It was old, he was here when he recorded it.

You didn’t quiet know how you felt, not yet anyways.

And you won’t know until I’m gone.

I’m moving to Korea, and I refuse to tell you, even if it makes me the bad guy, even if it feels worse, because that’s my dream.

I got signed by a record label after sending them that demo I did —remember it? We both went to the studio together, you listening outside as I sang. You were right by my side, all the time.

Except now when I record this, except when I leave.

I refuse to tell you, because the moment I do I know it’ll be real, realer than it is now as I say it. I don’t want to see the look on your face when I say I’m going, I know it’ll make me want to stay, but I don’t want to stay.

You knew exactly what he was talking about, you could recollect that day clearly. There was a small studio a little outside the town. That day, he had booked it for two hours to record a demo, his singing mentor with him and you tagging along.

It had always been like that, the two of you against the world, until, of course he left.

I physically can’t stay, I hate it here Y/n. It’s not for me, I want to get out, that had always been the plan. I want to get out and be free, I want to achieve my dreams. Maybe it’s selfish, maybe I don’t deserve a minute more of your time, but I want it all.

That’s why I’m not going to tell you —so I can have it all, at least until I don’t have you.

But you, you don’t deserve this, do you? Of course you don’t, but I suppose you’re the one with the shitty luck, you’re the one who ended up with me and now I’m going to hurt you.

He laughs a dry, breathy laugh. It was half hearted, as if he was trying to get himself to believe the situation was funny.

It’s not your fault I-fuck I’m sorry.

You heard a click and the tape died off, he had stopped recording there. The first tape was finished, and honestly, you didn’t know how to react. One part of you wanted to feel nothing, you wanted to put the player and the five tapes back into the box and send them away, or lock them in your closet to never find them again.

But the other part of you wanted to know more. You wanted to know how he felt, what went through his mind during that time. You wanted to know just how you lost Chenle, the first boy you ever loved.

Suddenly you felt overwhelmed, vulnerable almost. It was as if someone had opened up an old wound and left it open.

You got to your feet abruptly, pulling the earphones from your ears and dropping them on your bed, taking a step away and blinking rapidly. You couldn’t get caught up in the past, you couldn’t put yourself through that again.

But it was hard when the past was in your present.

Wasted, and all of my regret, I can taste it, If I had a time-machine, I would take it, And make it back to us

That night you couldn’t sleep.

The box sat on your desk, right next to your laptop, staring at you. You turned around on your bed, looking the other way, only to be met with the white of the walls.

You never liked the colour white.

It was too plain, too open for interpretation. It never had a solid answer. You liked stability, you wanted something permanent. You were the type of person that needed that reassurance.

Perhaps that’s why you were happy where you were, you didn’t find the appeal in starting over, because that meant nothing was certain. You stayed where you were because everything was already laid out for you.

It was like a colouring book in your little town, the lines all set out, everything drawn for you. Change meant you had to sketch everything from scratch. What if you messed up?

Needless to say, it was a good thing you weren’t an art major.

“This is ridiculous”, you whispered to yourself, sighing at the fact that you were now talking to yourself. You rolled over so that you were lying on your back, staring at the ceiling. The glow in the dark stars shone with their dull green light. You remember the day you had put them up, with Chenle.

You shared a lot of memories with him.

“Fucking hell”, you hissed, sitting up, swinging your legs off the edge of your bed and walking to your desk, sitting on the chair. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you picked up the second tape, inserting it in the player and putting the earphones on, waiting for it to begin.

ii] tape 2: milk before cereal

I know I’m making some terrible decisions, I really do, but if there’s one thing I stand by, its the fact that milk definitely goes before the cereal.

Why am I talking about this?

Well, because today you came over, Y/n, you came over and the two of us were watching a movie, and in the middle of it, you decided you wanted to have cereal, specifically frosted flakes.

So what do we do? We have cereal because I can’t say no to you. You’re welcome by the way, honestly, I deserve the boyfriend of the year award.

A moment of silence.

No I don’t. I really don’t.

You bit your lower lip, shutting your eyes. It was the way he switched, the way his demeanor changes so suddenly that made you want to scream. Sometimes it felt like he was telling a story, one you knew and loved.

Only for the next moment to bring you down to reality, reminding you that all stories don't have happy endings.

Anyways, we got the cereal and you objected when I put the milk first, saying that it was wrong, but how? In what way? Here me out Y/n, I shall tell you why I’m right, even If I’m not actually talking to you.

You couldn’t help but scoff at this, shaking your head at Chenle. He had always had a flair for being dramatic in the littlest ways possible. It was endearing.

Putting the cereal first means it sits in the milk for longer! If you put the cereal last, you can have it crunchy! Isn’t that ten times better? Unless you’re one of the devils spawn and like soggy cereal. If so I’m hypothetically breaking up with you right here right now.

Ah...bad wording. I keep forgetting I have to break up with you. I don’t want to, is that selfish?

You deserve the truth, if only I was strong enough to give it to you. Staying silent is so much easier.

It’s not lying, not completely anyways. I’m not lying if I don’t tell you at all. I suppose it’s a half truth then, with the truth hidden in plain sight.

*click*

Lying. That’s what he did, even though he spent the last few minutes of the tape trying to justify it, he lied. He trampled all over your heart without a single warning.

You had trusted Chenle, having known him since you were thirteen. He had completely destroyed that trust. Something like that couldn’t be fixed so easily, not even if he had sent you these tapes.

Then again, you didn’t know why he sent them.

You retreated to your bed, turning away from the tapes, the words and memories they held, facing white once again.

You had met Chenle when the two of you were thirteen, in eight grade math. The boy was failing the class, and one day you found him sitting early morning in class, with his head in his hands as he groaned over some sort of equation.

You had offered to help, and the smile he gave was the brightest one you had ever seen, he was practically grinning from ear to ear. That was the beginning of your friendship, and the two of you were inseperable.

Ninth grade it was confirmed that the two of you were best friends, sitting together, complaining about teachers together, going places together so your parents didn’t need to tag along.

In your last year of high school the two of you started dating, and when you had told your parents, they were ecstatic, confessing they had always thought the two of you would end up together.

He was always there for you, every time you needed him. You could give him a call and he would be outside your door. If you were feeling insecure or scared, he was always there to hype you up.

You had been best friends before, you were lovers then, and it was amazing. You loved everything about being with Chenle. You loved everything about him, from his toothy grin to his obnoxiously loud laugh.

You loved the way his eyes sparkled when he had an idea (which, for the most part, were absolutely terrible. Needless to say the two of you got in trouble a lot), when he sang for you when you stayed over, the way he would always make sure you were never cold.

You loved him.

It was written in the stars, you were meant to be, it was the perfect combination. Chenle was the right person for you- the perfect person.

A year later you woke up with him gone, no texts, no warnings. He had just gone, leaving you alone.

Right person, wrong time.

Monday came around sooner than you thought it would, the weekend passing in a blur as you walked out of your first class, spotting Lia leaning against the wall outside your class, scrolling through something on her phone.

She was an exchange student, not originally from your town, but had fit right in. Sometimes you wished you could be like that.

“Oh! You’re out! Listen, there’s a party on Friday and you’re coming with me”, she stated. It wasn’t a request, it was a fact, you were to go with her. In her own words, ‘if I didn’t exist you’d probably have no social life.’

To be fair, she wasn’t wrong.

You nodded defeatedly, walking with her down the hallway, “I assume you want to go because of the cute new guy?”

She glared, but didn’t refute your accusation, “His name is Mark”, she said, “And that is none of your business.”

You snickered, “Oh it so is, you like him don’t you? Is this going to be another one of your crushes?”

Lia was notorious for having a new crush almost every week, being a very flighty person, her mind changed before you could even say her name. This was a bit of a problem, considering you went to her for advice a lot.

Her indecisive nature was not the best for that.

She rolled her eyes at this, “He’s cute, why not? Wonder if I can get him to dance with me at the party. You’re going to be my hype woman-”

“And the sober buddy?”

Lia ignored that.

“Also there’s this new singer”, she said, handing you one of her earbuds, “apparently he came from here!”

Taking one of the earbuds, you were hit with a familiar voice. It sounded amazing honestly, catchy, everything a song needed, but it was the voice that hit you. You didn’t even need to ask Lia for the singer, swallowing the lump in your throat and glancing at her phone, which confirmed your suspicions.

Filling with some sort of dread, your hands immediately went to hold your hand, specifically the bottom where the cassette player and the tapes were. You had been carrying them around with you, as if scared they would disappear if you left them alone.

“Isn’t he good?”

You nodded, not daring to answer as you bit your lower lip, “Hey Lili, I need to use the washroom so see ya later”, you said, handing her the earbud and taking off in the other direction, pushing open the doors to the washroom and getting into one of the stalls.

You had stalled listening to the next tape all Sunday, you didn’t even know why, but hearing him sing, that fact that he had actually made it, it struck something in you. You wanted to feel proud of him, but all you felt was bitter.

Was it a coincidence that this new singer had come out- Chenle himself- right when you received the tapes?

Pushing the top of the toilet down, you took a seat, taking the player out and plugging in, you pressed play for the third tape, waiting for it to begin playing.

tape iii] ill miss our dates

Remember when we went for that field trip? Ninth grade? We sat in the back of the bus together avoiding the stares of our teachers when they told us to sit down?

Then they pulled us apart? Yeah, mean fuckers.

Anyways, that’s not what I wanted to talk about, I just felt like reminiscing for a sec there, but today we went of a date! Well, I mean we got ice cream and then went to the park, but hey, it was fun.

You smiled. He had always jumped from one topic to another without any meaning to either. Sometimes it was a frustrating habit, (you had been on the receiving end of these useless conversations several times, which ended with you glaring at him exasperatedly), but for the most part, extremely comical.

I’m going to miss that. I’m going to miss you. Your little smile — have I ever told you just how pretty your smile is? Your eyes light up and crinkle at the sides and its something I don’t think I’ll ever forget, even when I’m gone.

You clutched the cassette player, marveling at the irony. He was talking about your smile, but why did you want to cry?

It’s a month left now, and I want to make the most of it. Tomorrow I’m taking you to the amusement part and then next week I’m surprising you with dinner. I guess doing things for you —for us — makes me feel better, like I’m compensating.

You deserve the world Y/n, and I want to see that world while you’re happy where you are.

You don’t deserve having to deal with me.

*click*

Your eyes burned, because you remembered each of those events. You had been so happy, so overjoyed at them. They burned with tears because there it was again, that reminder that you were destined to be stuck right where you were, because you were that idiot who was content.

But if someone, anyone, asked you at that very moment if you were happy, the answer would’ve been an outright no.

1 YEAR AGO

“Hey Chenle?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you want to leave?”

The boy thought about this for a second, before smiling wistfully, “Don’t you want to know how it is outside home?”

“But everything I need is here.”

Your eyes held a question, you were genuinely baffled by his reasoning, the way he was so stuck of getting out. You studied your bewildered expression, shaking his head. “You’re lucky”, he said finally, “You know exactly what you want.”

“Of course I don’t, but I know what I need Chenle, and that’s all around me.”

He shook away his other thoughts, “Hey maybe we’ll go exploring the world together some day.

You blinked, “You want me there with you?”

He nodded, grinning widely, “I want to take you along, Imagine, it’ll be fucking awesome, and hey this time there will be no teachers to separate us. We can even stand in the bus-if we’re taking a bus, that it.”

You laughed, “Maybe”, you mused, looking back down at your phone, “While I don’t exactly see the appeal, it would be fun to be with you.”

Chenle’s smile faltered, but he didn’t let it fall completely, wrapping his arms around you and sighing, closing his eyes and whispering something just loud enough for you to hear.

“Maybe.”

Why did it feel this way?

Chenle was right- you didn’t deserve this, you didn’t deserve to feel this way at all. It had been a year, so why did it affect you?

Why was it all happening at once?

You clicked your tongue, eyeing the player with contempt. You felt pathetic for being curious, for still feeling so attached to old news. It wasn’t as if it was going to change anything, so why?

Why did you still want to know?

Curiosity killed the cat. You wondered if knowing would somehow kill you.

No one was at home currently, so you sat in the living room on your couch. The items you were trying so hard to ignore were sitting on the small table in front of the couch, as if waiting for you to pick them up once again.

You wondered if you should tell Lia and ask her opinion about the situation. She may not be that helpful, but hell, she could help you burn the tapes if worse came to worse.

Sometimes you wished you had never met Chenle, that your history with him could be erased from your memories. You wished it never existed because fuck, it still hurt.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and pressed play.

tape iv] firsts with you

Do you remember our first kiss?

We were eighteen, in my room, playing Jenga. That was a year ago, oh god, I can’t even imagine, how has it been a year? You were wearing one of my shirts and jeans, your hair was in a ponytail. The two of us were sitting on the carpet on my floor.

You had successfully gotten one of the wooden pieces out of a risky area of the tower, but then it was my turn, it feel to the ground, destroyed.

I blamed you, and you laughed, and our banter continued. We argued and at one point I started tickling you to get you to shut up, because honestly-Jesus Christ Y/n you’re fucking stubborn.

Anyways I ended up on top of you and the two of us were laughing. You looked so pretty, hair messily scattered around your face as you attempted to get out of my hold.

I leaned down and kissed you.

Your throat closed up as he spoke. Your eyes stung and you raked your hand through your hair, biting down on your lower lip. The way he was speaking about it, as if he would do anything to go back, it struck something in you.

Because if you had the chance, you would go back as well.

You tasted like that strawberry chapstick you liked to wear. I could tell you were surprised, because you didn’t kiss me back for a good two seconds —which, by the way sent me into a panic for a moment there.

But then you kissed me, and fuck, it was like everything had stopped. I couldn’t think for a second, it was like the world had started spinning around me, and the only thing that was keeping me grounded, was you.

Was it supposed to hurt like this?

You sucked in a sharp breath, fingers fisted the material of your shirt as you tried keeping your composure. You didn’t want to cry, but he was making it so, so hard for you.

You remembered how it felt when he kissed you, you were legitimately so confused, was he really kissing you? Your best friend, the boy you had loved quietly for so long, kissing you?

Chenle was your first kiss, and it was the most perfect first kiss you could have ever asked for, even if you were on the floor, with random Jenga blocks scattered around the two of you.

The smile you gave me after I pulled away, I wish I could remember it forever. It was goofy as you burst into giggles, and asked me, “What was that for?”

I blinked in surprise, wondering how you seemed so normal, when for me everything had changed. I had kissed my best friend, the one girl I care the most about.

I must have looked like a tomato oh god.

Instead of waiting for my to answer, you sat up, pulling me into another kiss. This time it was me who was unprepared. The kiss was messy, it had no structure or plan, but I realized in that moment, that I really liked kissing you, and I wanted to do it more often.

You became my girlfriend.

The wistful tone he was using was starting to affect you. You had loved Chenle, almost too much. You could almost feel that nostalgic happiness you felt that day when he kissed you for the first time, the disbelief and joy that wrapped around the two of you.

A wave of sadness followed that nostalgia.

Our first date was so fucking awkward. We were at that little cafe you loved, you ordered a cheesecake and I got a smoothie, and then we sat in silence for a good five minutes.

It really shouldn’t have been that painful, considering we knew everything about each other already, then again that might be why it was awkward, I had nothing to ask you about.

So naturally I brought up school and that started it, the two of us complaining about the amount of assignments we had, and Mrs. Choi’s annoying squeaky voice- I swear to god that woman took a second for each word.

But I digress.

Slowly our conversation felt normal again, it was just us, eating cheesecake and drinking smoothies, together.

That wave of sadness crashed down upon you like a tsunami, trying to snuff you out. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, you were struggling to keep yourself together. You were struggling to stay afloat, you had lost any leverage you had that was holding you up.

You couldn’t fight the waves.

My flight is in two hours. It’s four in the morning and we’re about to walk through the door and get to the airport, but I wanted to talk to you once again, even if we’re not really talking.

I’m pathetic.

You’re sleeping, in your bed at your home, you don’t know I’m going because I’m the coward that refused to tell you the truth. I’ll be gone by the time you wake up and then you’ll know.

You’ll know how much of a waste of time I was.

And then you were angry.

You were angry because he had no right to just come back into your life like this, no fucking right to make you cry. He wasn’t even here, but somehow he had managed to make you fall apart just with his words, with his voice.

He had no right to tear your world apart, the little composure you had standing. You had finally accepted the fact that he was gone, you had moved on, and even tried to forget.

But here he was, making sure you could never forget.

You hated how selfish he was, how absolutely fucking oblivious. He had no clue, not even one as to how you felt when he just disappeared from your life, as if he never existed. He had broken you and here he was, breaking you again.

With trembling hands, you stopped the tape from playing any further, angry tears making their way down your face as you flung the player across the room. You had no intention of listening any further, you didn’t want to, you didn’t care.

Closure hurt more than him leaving.

You buried your head in your hands, letting yourself fall apart, but just this once.

tape iv] continued [unheard]

I’m sorry Y/n. I’m so fucking sorry.

You don’t have to believe me, because I’m leaving anyways, so I suppose that cancels out my apologies huh? I’m the worst person you ever met. I’m not stopping, I’m not going to leave you a text.

Because I don’t want to hurt you anymore.

I’ll be gone before we could ever be.

Should’ve believed in us, while we existed, cuz now the whole things fucked, and just a figment of my imagination

Time heals all hurt, and reminders bring them back, cutting through your skin like a knife, making you bleed.

A week later, you found yourself sitting in your favorite cafe, the same cafe Chenle talked about in the last tape. You ordered a cheesecake and a smoothie, inserting the fifth and final tape into the player.

The last time you did this, you were left hurt and distraught, promising yourself you would never go back to listen to him again. You had put the shoebox in your closet, hiding it behind your clothes that hung from the rack.

Yet here you were.

You didn’t bother finishing the fourth tape, you didn’t see the need to.

This tape, you observed, was newer looking, with less scratches on the plastic, even the marker on the side looked more recent, a little rushed if you went into detail.

The cheesecake and drink arrived, and you took a bite, pressing play.

tape v] play

Hey.

He sounded a little different too, older perhaps. His voice was smoother, but he sounded unsure of himself. It sounded as if he was trying to figure out how to approach the topic. He was being cautious.

It’s been a while. I...I don’t know why I’m doing this. There’s no point- you’re not even here. I found these stupid tapes yesterday in my dorm when I was cleaning out and gave them a listen.

Silence.

I envy you, Y/n. I wish I was like you, happy wherever I was. But I’m not, and I probably caused you great unhappiness while trying to search for my own- but I was happy with you, so happy it was ridiculous.

I sabotaged that.

You sighed, realizing you felt nothing. You were tired of crying over Chenle, you were done doing that. Instead you felt empty, like you had been tired out, like it didn’t matter anymore. At this point you were to get it over with, to finish it off on clean ending note.

My song comes out next week, and it’ll be done. I’ve made it Y/n, I’ve gotten to where I wanted to be, the place I had worked so hard to get to. I’ve sacrificed so much for this and it’s all been worth it- except one thing.

I don’t expect you to listen to my song, I just wanted to tell you. I..I hope you’re proud of me. Even if I was a jerk, I hope you can be proud, at least a little bit, because then I’ll have finally made it.

I miss you.

The same words are at the tip of your tongue, I miss you, I miss you so fucking much, but they never came out. They didn’t have to, it would be useless. He would never hear them.

Instead, you swallowed them back down.

And even though I made fun of you for staying home, I hope you’re happy like I am, I hope we’ll meet again one day. If we do I challenge you to a game of Jenga, loser buys the winner ice cream.

I-fuck this is the hardest part- but I hope you’ve moved on. One of us has to.

*click*

You don’t take the tape out of the player, you don’t touch it at all. You feel oddly calm as you take another bite of your cheesecake, savoring the strawberry reserve that it came with it. You could almost imagine yourself at eighteen again sitting opposite your new boyfriend.

You missed it, the memories that came along with it. That was it, you missed the feelings you had.

But you were okay. You would be okay right where you were, because that’s where you belonged. It hurt, yeah, but it had hurt back then as well. Now it was just a dull ache, all that was left was regret.

Regret that it didn’t work out, regret over unspoken words and unnecessary pain.

A familiar song filled the cafe as you smiled somewhat sadly, leaning back in your seat and closing your eyes.

“I’m proud of you Chenle”, you whispered, “Because you did what I couldn’t”

You left the cafe a little later, with the cassettes in your bag, an empty plate and the smoothie sitting on the table, untouched. After all, that smoothie wasn’t for you.

There was nothing to wait for anymore. You had loved and you had lost, Chenle was a stranger with your secrets and a familiar voice and that was it.

You had forgiven him a long time ago, even without him being deserving of it. Now with all the loose ends being tied up, it felt like you could finally let go of him, you could finally move on.

And forget.

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fairyoftbz · 3 years

Text

Tournesol | Changmin

🌻 pairing: shy florist!changmin x fem!reader (briefs mentions of barista!Jacob & tattoo artist!Kevin) 🌻 genre: fluff, slow-burn, strangers-to-lovers (?) 🌻 word count: 3.1k 🌻 synopsis: you are new in town so you decide to explore a bit of your neighbourhood. You never knew that the flower shop down your street would change your life in a good way. 🌻 requested? : yes, thank you so much! ✨ 🌻 A/N: here comes my first ever post for my first personal project! thank you to the anon who requested this and i hope you’ll like it! constructive feedback is always welcomed in my dms or my asks! I will write the English translation of the French word I used in that way. PS: If anyone wants to be tagged on my future posts for this project, please let me know !!

Locking the front door of the brand-new apartment you had just moved into, you pulled down your light coat’s sleeve after dropping your keys in your little cross-body bag. You walked down the few flights of stairs that separated you from the entrance hall, quickly checking if you had any mail and walked out the door as it was found empty.

Today was your lucky day because the wind stopped blowing right before you woke up, and the sun decided to show up as you were enjoying your breakfast, making you finish it on the little balcony right outside your living room. You couldn’t ask for a better start of the day, the light mood and warm atmosphere bringing nothing but a huge smile on your face.

You greeted the old lady with a wave and a bow as she was swiping the entrance of the bakery, wishing her a great day as you kept your route.

Two weeks ago, as you were moving in, the baker happened to be with her son and some of his friends, and instead of helping her serve the bakery customers, she sent them over to your place as she knew who you were, since you visited her place in a rush the day before. She seemed to have the gift of the gab because she was quick to ask if you were new around the neighbourhood. You remember being surprised by her behaviour and politely answered, but you were glad that you had this conversation with her. You weren’t even halfway through your move that the 4 boys appeared in the entrance hall, offering their help. Feeling a bit suspicious at first, you kindly refused, but when one of them offered you a smile extremely similar to the baker and introduced himself as her son, you finally gave in and accepted their help.

The amount of time you had planned for your move got reduced by almost three thanks to them. They followed your orders like no one else, and once they were done moving the boxes around the rooms and left, you quickly went to the local convenience store you had spotted at the other street corner and bought 4 bottles and some chocolate for them. You walked by the bakery the following day, and the son happened to work here, replacing his mother while she was at a doctor’s appointment. He was touched by your small gifts, and he made sure to call his friends to come over and get them while you slipped away from the bakery to go to IKEA. Before you got to leave, he advised you to take a few walks around the neighbourhood to get to know your surroundings. You wished you could have followed his advice earlier, but you were busy with moving in and get ready for your interviews that could lead you to potential jobs.

But today was the weekend and you decided to take some time for yourself and follow the advice of the baker's son. It was a beautiful day, and you had planned to make the most of it to get familiar with your neighbourhood.

Your area was surprisingly calm to be in the middle of the city, but you weren’t going to complain since it was something you were dying to have: a friendly, quiet neighbourhood. The nice smell of the bakery lingered around you as you walked past the building, following you until you turned at a corner, leading you to a new, unknown street. Some shop windows were beautifully decorated, and you mentally took some notes of the various local shops that could become potentially useful one day. You walked past a china shop, staying for a few seconds to admire the detailed and precise work displayed in the window display. Offering a smile to the young lady inside the store, you walked away and looked around, noticing something that caught your attention on the opposite pavement. You quickly checked as no car drove by and crossed the street, smiling as two shops were the polar opposite of the other. The flower shop in front of you was sweet, it smelt delicate and chic, just like flowers. The walls were covered by some off-white roughcast, adding a soft touch to it.

A few meters away, on the left of the flower shop, was a tattoo parlour. You giggled as you noticed the cliche that emanated from the two places. The parlour was covered in black, with a Gothic, biker style, posters of metal and rock music pasted around the walls, hardcore music blasting from the speakers, completely contrasting with the softness and the sobriety of the flower shop. A tattoo artist appeared behind the counter that was situated next to the window and your eyes widened, trying to quickly count the number of tattoos and piercings that was decorating his body. A single front piece of hair was dyed blond among the other jet-black strands, his warm smile standing out from the rest of his physical appearance.

You turned your head to the side as you focused on the flower shop, its atmosphere suiting you better despite the next-door shop spiking up your interest. You smiled at the yellow Beetle parked in front of it and pushed the door open after a few seconds of consideration, a small bell tingling as it hit the glass door.

The smell of pollen and freshly cut flowers welcomed you in, the intensity of the colours making you slightly dazed. They were all gorgeous, the arrangements giving you an impulsion to buy a bouquet of each flower they had in store, but that would never happen.

“Welcome!” a voice from under the counter greeted you, a man appearing behind it a few seconds later, secateurs in hand. You smiled as you greeted him back, charmed by how similar he was to his store, soft and friendly. He stayed behind the counter, watching you walk around his shop, all of his other activities and tasks were instantly forgotten as soon as you stepped a foot inside his store.

Changmin was amazed by your smile, finding you incredibly beautiful, his heart hammering in his chest at the sight of your admiring smile creeping across your lips. He was dying to talk to you and get to know you, but he knew himself, he was most likely going to make a fool of himself if he ever dared to exchange some words with you. He was already pleasantly surprised that he had managed to welcome you without getting in a muddle or stumbling on his words.

With a slightly shaking hand, he diagonally cut the end of the red roses resting on the counter. He couldn’t help but glance at you, which you didn't notice, luckily for him. However, by paying too much attention to you and your gorgeous smile, he began to cut the stems a little too rapidly and too high, alas once pinching a piece of skin between the pruning blades, making him jump in pain and let go of the gardening tool. Changmin stifled a groan of pain and rushed into the back office, looking for the first aid kit. He hurriedly found a sticking plaster and wrapped it around his cut, pressing on the wound to ease the pain and get back to work as quickly as possible.

As he reappeared in the doorway that separated the back office from the front office, he heard the bell above the door chime again, signalling your departure.

His shoulders subsided and he watched you walk away with a disappointed pout. He sighed in sadness and pushed the roses away, nervousness and guilt fuelling his mind and regrets.

"Shit," he sighed, picking up the wilted petals of a few roses that were littered on the floor, shoving them into the front pocket of his apron. He blamed himself for not having spoken to you to at least know your name. Quickly, Changmin walked around the counter to door, showing the “now-closed” store sign as remorse flooded his veins. He let his feet guide every single one of his moves, now finding himself in the storeroom. He took a pencil and his notebook sticking out of his bag before returning to the counter.

Closing his eyes, he tried to remember your face and began a sketch. He erased a line, then two, then several, feeling the frustration overcome him as the portrait did not correspond to what he had seen a few minutes earlier at all. Changmin had a perfect image of you in his mind, but maybe the stress of forgetting you or his shaking hands prevented him from replicating your gorgeous face on paper.

Completely unaware of what was going on behind those four walls, you kept on walking around the neighbourhood until your feet hurt and decided to go back to your apartment.

The next morning you enjoyed the rays of sunlight that your curtains had failed to filter for a few minutes, smiling shyly as you remembered seeing the florist appearing in your dreams. He was here, you recognised his face, but you couldn't hear what he was saying. He sounded extremely sincere and filled with love, but it was probably just your lonely mind playing tricks on you. You decided to get up, a sudden urge for pastry invading your thoughts, your stomach growling at the sudden idea. After dressing appropriately for going out, you walked through your doorstep and walked leisurely to your favourite bakery. The baker was sitting on a chair on the small terrace of her shop, sipping tea with who appeared to be her husband.

"Morning Sir. Ma'am," you bowed, greeting them warmly, the baker hurriedly setting down her tea mug to gently grab your wrist. "Dear, this is the young lady Jacob and his friends helped move in the brick building, around the street corner that I told you about. Remember that?" she explained to her husband, who took the time to swallow his sip while nodding. "Ah, the bottle of wine and the chocolate," he says looking at you and you smiled, as it was your turn to nod. "That's right," you stated, holding out your hand for him to squeeze, which he did delicately. “Thanks again,” you told them, and the baker waved her hand in front of her face, a genuine smile on her face. "Oh please, don’t worry about it, it's okay," she declared, and you thanked them again before entering their bakery. Jacob was behind the counter chatting with an old lady who seemed to waylay him. He noticed you and apologised to her, seeing him sigh before greeting you. Jacob was a sweet man, always ready to help everyone and too nice to say no. Talking and getting to know him was a piece of cake, he was so nice to hang out with and a gem to have around.

"Y/N, hello! What can I get you?" he offered you a beautiful smile, which he got from his mother, noticing another time the striking similarity with the old woman on the terrace. "I'm going to get a baguette and one of those," you say, pointing at a pain au chocolat sprinkled with powdered sugar in the little window that separated you from the young man. He smiled and grabbed a metal clamp, placing the pastry in a paper bag. Typing a few things on the machine, you handed him a banknote and he gave you back the change, along with your pastries. You thanked him and started to leave when a familiar figure stood at a table against the window.

Changmin was quietly drinking his coffee when he heard a conversation start from outside the window. He almost spat out the liquid he had in his mouth when he saw you talking with the owners of the bakery, his eyes widening at the sight of you. He pursed his lips to stifle a smile and continued to drink his coffee, tapping on his phone screen. His heart was hammering harder, faster, in his chest as he tried to keep a low profile, lowering his head in case you were to curiously look around the place. He sighed through gritted teeth when he heard your complicity with Jacob, feeling a touch of jealousy pinching his heart without intending to. Changmin nervously finished his cup of coffee in one sip, the warm liquid burning his throat, not bothering looking up. Stuffing his phone in his jacket pocket, he was ready to go when he saw you still in the store, immediately freezing as his brown eyes met your sparkling ones.

"Hello!" you told him with a smile, waving discreetly with one hand while the other clutched the brown bag against you. He blinked several times, your beauty and kindness bouncing around his skull. He answered you with a brief, serious nod and walked away without even saying goodbye to his friend behind the counter. You watched him leave out the window before turning to Jacob, who was looking at you with a thin smile on his lips. "Did I say something wrong?" you asked him, and he exhaled a laugh through his nose, shaking his head from side to side. "Not at all. Changmin is just a very shy person sometimes," he said, and you nodded, still a bit confused from the florist's behaviour, but you said nothing and walked out of the store after wishing for a good day to Jacob. The latter smiled as you walked in the opposite direction from Changmin, greeting another customer as he understood his friend’s behaviour.

A week passed and it was time for you to start your new job. You had used up a good chunk of your last salary to pay for furniture and taxes which you barely remembered the names of, so you needed to have a new entrance of income. You applied to a real estate agency that wasn't far from where you live, as a financial chief director, exactly what you worked at in your previous city. You had to walk past the florist to get to your new workplace, but the florist was the only closed shop on the whole street, which surprised you. You had the opportunity to talk a little more with Jacob, and he had confessed to you that Changmin loved his job and was a flower enthusiast, which confirmed your concern when you didn't see his store open.

A smile grew on your face at the end of the day, when you took the same path as this morning, seeing the shop illuminated. When you had assembled your furniture, you remembered that you wanted to decorate your apartment with more greenery and flowers. Seizing the opportunity that the florist was still open, you pushed open that same door you had walked through a few weeks ago, the same wonderful smell and tinkling bell welcoming you inside.

You noticed a brown chunk of hair behind a large, flowered wall, immediately recognising Changmin's slender figure. You heard him clear his throat as he hummed a tune, arranging a bouquet.

Changmin heard a customer walk into his store and finished his bouquet of sunflowers and red roses before revealing himself, his eyes opening widely as he discovered your innocent smile and your office outfit. The pencil skirt and beige suit you wore made his heart fuzzy with warmth, his mind only filled with how pretty you looked.

“Good evening,” you greeted him, and he nodded, swallowing his saliva before answering you. "Welcome," he said, his husky, uncertain voice melting your heart. He managed to smile, finding dimples growing in the corners of his mouth, he was handsome when he was smiling with reddened ears. "I would like to know if you have any flowers or plants to recommend to decorate my apartment," you clear your throat before telling him your request. "May I ask the colour of your walls?" he asked in a hesitant voice, looking everywhere around the shop except you. "White, cream, and some in greyish tones as well," you explained and he nodded mechanically, looking through his stock.

"I can suggest you some dried pampas grass with cotton stems. It's... quite sober and low maintenance," he walked around the counter and you followed, his hands grabbing a few stems which he gathered under your nose. You liked the harmony of the two plants, you already had an idea where to put these at your place. "I like them a lot, I'll take a bouquet," you stated, and he nodded, giving you a small smile as he walked over to the cash register. He remained motionless for a few seconds, his finger hovering above a key. You saw him take a deep breath before disappearing into the back office, making you frown for an instant.

Changmin reappeared a few seconds later and you looked at him in shock, expecting everything but this. He held out an arrangement of sunflowers and roses in front of you, the warm tones of yellow and red reminding you of the summer warmth.

"It's for you," he said, holding your gaze, the tips of his ears turning a crimson red. You remained a few seconds dumbfounded in front of the bouquet, not knowing what to do. "For me? But in what honour? I don't deserve it," you stated but he insisted with a nod, so you shyly took the bouquet and gave him a big smile, your heart pounding. "That's so sweet, thank you very much," you told him, plunging your nose into the flowers, the scent of the two flowers blending beautifully together. He seemed to be breathing again when he discovered pure happiness in your eyes, giving you a big smile as well.

“You are as radiant as a sunflower, I… I wanted to gift you some,” he confessed, and you were touched by his words. “And the red roses… well, I don't think I should draw you a picture,” his voice trailed, and you were both embarrassed, but you could still feel some connection emerge between you two. Looking at the flowers again, you noticed a small card hanging at the base of the bouquet, and you flipped it to read it.

"A date to celebrate my arrival here?" you asked, surprised he knew this information about you. "Only if you want to, of course. I accidentally overheard your discussion with Mr and Mrs Bae, I thought it would be a good opportunity for me to show you around the city," he scratched the back of his neck, an embarrassed look painted on his face, apprehensive about your reaction. "With great pleasure," he looked up and sighed in relief, making you smile at his behaviour. "Saturday morning in front of the bakery, is that okay with you?" "It's perfect." He smiled while nodding, his brown eyes lingering into yours for seconds that seemed to last forever, but he didn't feel so intimidated anymore.

He almost felt confident, and that only sounded promising for the days to come.

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aconstellationofmemories · 4 years

Text

Of Nightmares and Promises Chapter 2: Gray

Note: This oneshot in Gray's POV, a follow-up to Juvia's oneshot, unexpectedly took me 7 months to complete. More than half of the draft had already been written; I could have posted it earlier with some addition; but I felt that it lacked something. Or perhaps I was afraid, since I was still a new writer back then. In any case, I'm satisfied that my writing has improved tremendously since.

Dedicated to @allie-and-her-fandoms, who was a major source of motivation to write this continuation. Here's a surprise for you girl. I hope I didn't disappoint you.

Next one in this collection of oneshots will probably be Laxus'. Expect some angsty Miraxus coming up!

Word count: 1.5k.

Read this on AO3.

Chapter 1: Juvia

-----------------------------------------------------

Quiet sobs.

The steady beat of the rain tumbling onto the pavement.

Soft whimpers.

The sorrowful symphony slowly filtered into Gray’s sleep-fogged brain and roused him from his slumber. What’s happening? Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his puzzled gaze instantly landed on the sparkling droplets of water on the window. They slid down helplessly despite the slight friction between their liquid body and the glass panel, leaving behind only disjointed parts of their body in their slippery descent.

It’s raining, he thought sleepily. There was a nagging familiarity about the natural event, almost as though it was teasing him to guess its hidden meaning. However, at such a godforsaken hour, he had neither the mood nor the mental capacity for such trivia games. If the heavens wished to weep and cause a phenomenon known as rainfall upon earth, then they could weep all they wanted. He wasn’t going to give up his precious sleep to spend the night contemplating the mysteries of the universe. Closing his eyes, he turned to lay on his side as he tried to resume his disrupted sleep.

Then it dawned on him.

It was soft, almost inaudible even, but he was almost certain his ears weren’t playing with him – there was a muffled sound of someone crying.

Wait. Rain...

Juvia.

The realisation jolted him awake – any trace of sleepiness now completely gone – and he hurriedly glanced over to the other side of the bed. In a subconscious gesture to either comfort or protect herself, the water mage lied curled on her side in a fetal position. Her face twisted in anguish. “Gray-sama...” his name fell upon her lips in between her strained sobs.

He gently nudged her. “Oi, Juvia.” No use – she showed no signs of waking.

“Juvia tried but she failed,” she whispered, pain lacing each word.

His heart constricted in his chest to see her in this broken state. She was the one experiencing the nightmare, but it hurt him to witness it.

“Wake up and it’ll be fine,” he urged her.

“Juvia is so sorry...”

What was she dreaming to feel sorry for?

Gray pushed aside the stray locks from her forehead – her skin was wet. It was that moment that he noticed she was sweating profusely. Whatever she was dreaming about, it must be intense to invoke such strong reactions from her. Tears silently rolled down her porcelain cheeks. Despite his attempts to pull her from her nightmare, she was lost to him in a torturous realm – one he was all too familiar with.

“Wake up, Juvia,” he pleaded her. It was killing him slowly to see her tormented and being powerless to do a thing.

The ice mage prided himself in having a cold, impenetrable heart. Much like his ice creations, it was solid and incredibly resistant to outside influences. Her cries, however, felt as though someone placed a nail on his heart and pounded mercilessly to create fractures. With each broken call for him, the fractures cracked open.

Just like how Juvia once told him that he kept the rain away, he yearned to prevent her liquid sadness from flowing down her face – now and for as long as he can.

Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned in and placed his lips on her tear-stained cheeks.

Drip.

A tear escaped from the corner of her eye and trailed down.

“Gray-sama.”

Kiss.

His lips caught the elusive tear before it could drop.

“Shh. It’s okay.”

Drip.

No matter how many times she fell apart, he would always be there to catch her.

Kiss.

Down to the last teardrop, he erased their existence with each gentle kiss.

Pulling back, his concerned gaze scanned her face for any signs of distress. To his relief, her features seemed to relax. The iron vise around his heart loosened its grip. His chest immediately felt lighter.

For the first time since he woke up, he could take a breath without feeling strangled.

Lying back down on the bed, he angled his head to watch her. The warm glow of the streetlamps cast a soft spotlight upon her, highlighting her angelic features. Her sapphire tresses was splayed out on the pillow underneath her head. They reminded him of a curved wave frozen in time. He gently pushed back the stray locks on her forehead. She was ethereally beautiful. His heart squeezed in his chest as he took in the sleeping beauty before him. As someone who only experienced heartache all his life, the ice mage didn’t think he was worthy of someone so beautiful and pure.

All I do is scar her.

His gaze dipped down to her abdomen – to where she sacrificed her life for him. The evidence of her suicide was well covered by her nightgown, but he could picture it all too clearly in his mind. Jagged lines winded up and down to narrow peaks, its almost-circular trek engraved forever on the right side of her navel.

Gray wasn’t ashamed by scars, nor did he feel the slightest disgust towards them. His own body exhibited the permanent mark of several scars from years of battling as a mage. None of them bothered him; whether they were large or small; wide or narrow; he only demanded that they were visible to the world.

But Juvia...it didn’t sit right with him for her to have them. Not that he thought they marred her beauty – hell, she was pretty no matter what. It was the history behind the engraved remnants of her sacrifice which troubled him.

If only I was stronger then...Juvia wouldn’t have had to kill herself.

It was my duty to protect her, to keep her safe.

He clenched his fist as an avalanche of failure crashed over him.

And I failed in both for Juvia.

For his entire life, all the people dearest to him had been snatched away. It didn’t matter how strong they were; one by one, they ceased to exist on the physical plane on earth. Though the abrupt conclusion to their story played out in different scenarios, they all shared a crucial common factor – their untimely deaths were all because of him.

Involuntarily, the final memories of his loved ones came flooding back – the disbelief, the immense despair, and the hopelessness – they all hit him like a train wreck.

His father, previously the strongest man in his eyes, now lying immobile in the destruction left by Deliora.

Ur’s motherly smile when she bid farewell to him as ice engulfed her mortal body.

Her daughter, Ultear, trading her priceless youth for him to be granted a second chance at life.

Juvia’s lifeless body, cold and unmoving in his arms.

The tsunami of his painful past threatened to wreck him and drown him under in their onslaught. His tensed muscles began to tremble from the effort of controlling the turbulent emotions which the flashbacks had evoked.

You killed them, a voice hissed inside his head.

He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to block them out – the memories, the self-defeating voices, the fears – all of them. I’m not there. I’m not there anymore.

When he opened his eyes, his gaze landed on the soundly asleep form of Juvia. Her lips were slightly parted as she breathed in and out slowly. The nightmares had stopped tormenting her. Seeing her resting peacefully – and breathing – calmed his frayed nerves considerably. His ragged breaths began to slow.

She’s still alive. Here, with me.

The ice mage carefully wrapped his arms around her as he pulled her in close for an embrace. Instantly, she instinctively leaned into his warmth and pressed her face into his naked chest. With that simple trusting gesture, her own warmth spread deeper into his chest to envelope his heart.

For hours, he was content to simply hold her in his arms as she slept. She even snored lightly at one point; this he would never tell her. He couldn’t complain, not when the greatest thing to had ever happened to him was lying in his bed.

He didn’t sleep a wink that night.

Not from her snores, but from the thoughts that raced through his mind and the plans he dared to envision – all of which involved a particular sapphire-haired woman. His dreams splashed every inch of his greyscale mental landscape with bright, invigorating colours of spring. Like the plants which grow from the emergence of the sun after the rain, the seeds of his wishes quickly sprouted to form endless possibilities together with her.

In the near future, they wouldn’t just be mere visions his mind conjured up. No – he would make them materialise into the real world.

When dawn arrived with its hopeful transformation from darkness to light, the ice mage was set with his conviction.

I don’t deserve you, but I will become a man worthy of you, Juvia.

Placing a chaste kiss on her forehead, he sealed his unspoken promise to her.

I’ll keep you safe.

#gruvia #gray fullbuster x juvia lockser #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #fairy tail #gruvia fanfic #angst and comfort #my fanfic #took me longer than expected #7 months!!#but happy that my writing has improved a lot #even though this may not be my best work

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.15

“Lance, it’s Keith. Are you in there?”

Hours. Lance had spent hours staring at his ceiling. He’d climbed into his wardrobe, grabbed his box of death soil, and cried himself to sleep. When he’d woken, he’d crawled over to his bed, his box of death soil sitting on his chest with his left hand resting on it as he stared upwards, simply laying there pretending the world outside didn’t exist

“Pidge called the home phone, she saw you’d left your car in town... I don’t know if you want to arrange a pick up, but it’s there”.

Keith being nice didn’t feel right. He didn’t like it all. He appreciated honesty and and Keith honestly hated him. Him being nice meant he was lying through his teeth

“Lance?”

Answering Keith felt like too much effort. So his car was in town, then that meant all he had to do was go pick it up. He could do that. That would mean he wouldn’t have to be home with “Keith the Liar”... That wasn’t being fair. Keith hadn’t... he was making an effort. He was doing the best he could under the circumstances. Keith had human emotions, so trying to get on fell within that range, but if you care for someone that makes killing them all that harder to do. Lance didn’t want to burden Keith with his death, nor did he want to burden Shiro the same way... This was why mixing with humans just wasn’t a done thing.

Climbing to his feet, Lance walked over to window, undoing the latch, a strong breeze filtered over his face as he looked downwards. Fuck it. Going out the front door wasn’t an option, so jumping out the window it was. It’d hurt, but he’d heal. The walk into town would give him space to breathe

“Lance?”

Yep. Fuck it.

Rolling his right ankle, Lance had barely limped around the side of his house and onto his drive before his escape was interrupted. Night was starting to fall, the air growing moister as the cicadas chirped away. Walking at night had never lost its charms when it came to thinking. He didn’t believe that vampires some how gained mystical powers from the moon like werewolves did, but it definitely gave him a pleasant buzz enough kind of buzz

“What the hell?!”

Jogging up along side him, Keith sounded annoyed

“Go back to the house, Keith”

“Did you jump out your window to avoid me?”

Talk about being sprung, Lance pushed down the discomfort of his ankle, speeding up his step, which Keith annoyingly kept up with

“Why would you jump out the window?”

“Why does anyone go around jumping out windows?”

“You could have come down the stairs”

Lance huffed, wondering if Keith intended to walk the 10 kilometres to town with him

“Then jumping out the window to avoid you would have been ruined... a bit like this”

Picking his pace up again, Keith jogged forward, standing in front of Lance

“Why are you being like this?”

“Like what?”

“This! What did I do now?”

Lance rolled his eyes

“Why do you think this has to do with you?”

“Because we’re the only two people in the house. If you’re upset, it has to be because of me”

Fuck. What was he supposed to do with that?

“And if I say it’s not you, it’s me, will you listen?”

“You’re acting weird and I don’t understand”

“You haven’t known me long enough to know when I’m acting weird”

“I heard you on the phone this morning, then you were crying, and now you’re jumping out of windows. I don’t understand it”

“Even vampires have shit days. You humans don’t have the monotony on that”

“That was more than a bad day...”

“You’re not being... you’re not acting right”

“Oh, please tell me how I act? Could it be that you have no fucking idea what’s going on in my life and insist that you’re some goddamn vampire that I apparently sired? No eres un vampiro! Non sei un vampiro! I don’t know how many other ways I can fucking say it, but you’re a human. You’re a human I’m sending back to stay in town!”

Keith clenched his fists, Lance not sure if he was going to cry, or if the hunter was going to punch him in the face

“That’s not what you said last night”

Lance waved his hand dismissively

“Blame it on fatigue or whatever excuse you need. You’re here to kill me. Don’t go blurring that line any more than you already have”

“You’re the one blurring lines! I don’t understand any of this!”

“Welcome to the club, sorry, we’re fresh out of jackets and medals, but I might be able to swing a free set of steak knives in used condition”

“Fuck you! You don’t know me, you don’t know the shit I’ve been through! You weren’t there when Adam...”

Keith shook his head

“I don’t owe you anything. I can’t believe I was thinking there was more to vampires than what I’d see, but you’re all a bunch of dicks. Go die in a ditch for all I care”

Shit.

“Keith...”

“Save it Lance. You don’t want to help me. You don’t want to explain anything you don’t want to talk about. You’re not the one going through changes. You’re not the one having nightmares and waking up in a cold sweat with your body aching. You’re not the one getting headaches and you’re not the one stuck feeling the changes I’m going through. No. You’re the one who lies to my face. Your just like every other selfish undead fucker who can’t keep their promises”

“You’ve been sick because you poisoned yourself. You clearly have some kind of trauma thanks to Shiro’s partner Adam”

Keith couldn’t hide the surprise on his face

“What the fuck do you know about Adam?”

“What Shiro told me”

Not much at all. He’d done the math and now he was getting to the answer. Adam was Shiro’s partner that’d been killed, and for reason Keith felt guilty for whatever happened... maybe not guilt... maybe anger with anything less than human that’d do whatever had been done to Adam

“If you know about Adam, you should understand”

Lance had the feeling if he said he didn’t know anything, Keith would clam up and leave him in peace. But being a grade A arsehole to Keith took up too much energy. He didn’t want to know Shiro’s secrets, but he did. He didn’t want to know Shiro’s secrets because Shiro had dropped the “Matt bombshell” on him, but he did

“I’ve heard it from Shiro’s perspective, not yours”

“It’s the same thing”

It definitely wasn’t the same thing unless they were into that kind of a relationship

“Shiro was in love. You weren’t”

“What does that matter?! They fucking turned him! Shiro nearly lost his goddamn arm because Adam didn’t show his true colours! Shiro said he was... he was dead before he even got back... he dealt with it”

Keith’s repeated paranoia made sense now. Adam hadn’t been “noticeably” turned. Shiro had thought he was human, not knowing that Adam was no longer than man he’d once been. Keith was scared that he’d been turned and that he was headed down the same path as Adam. He was scared that he was going to lose his brother, and what would happen if his brother lost him

“You’re not to blame for what they did”

“I didn’t...”

“You can’t be superman, Keith. You can’t be in a million places at once. You didn’t know. You couldn’t have known. If Adam was already turned by the time Shiro returned, death would have been a release. We vampires have egos. That’s why we don’t last. That’s why our kind goes insane. You live to watch everyone you love die. You form bonds, only to have to break them because you don’t want the people around you to think you’ve lied to them the whole time, to think none of it was real. It’s not fun and games being like this. We never forget. We remember turning. We remember every single second of it. Your brother lost his lover and you want someone to pay. You want to kill everything you can, because you want to spare others that pain. Well guess what, you’re in pain too. You carry those deaths. You’ve seen shit you never thought possible and you’ve seen the fucking worst of it. That’s why you’ve got a chip on your shoulder, because they hurt your family. I don’t know if Shiro lied to you. I don’t know if Adam really was alive, but if they starved him after the turn, the fact your brother is still alive is something amazing. This life fucking sucks, and for your sake, I hope you find your way out of it. I live in penance for my sins, the sin of being this thing. I try to help as many kids as possible not feel even one scrap of what I did when I was a kid. Ever since you crashed into my life I’ve been going crazy. I feel like I’ve been turned over again, because you’re the first person I’ve ever drank from, and if you weren’t dying, I wouldn’t have done that. I can see right now you want to deck me, so if it makes you feel better, throw that punch”

“Don’t talk at me like you know my life!”

“I don’t and I don’t want to! When you move on, I’m the one who’s going to be stuck here wondering you’re still alive! In 50 years I’m still going to be wondering because I can’t get you out of my head! You’re going to end up dead, Keith. Long before your time of you keep throwing yourself into things head first!”

Keith took half a step back, looking down to the gravel beneath their feet. Adam was a sore topic for the man, and he didn’t know what kind of parents just let their kid run off and do dumb shit like becoming a hunter, but Keith seemed the kind whose home life seemed rocky at best. Raising his head, the hunter locked his eyes on his

“Then teach me”

What the what now?

“Huh?”

“Teach me! You’re a vampire! Teach me!”

Lance was the most unvampire vampire he knew

“Teach you what?”

“How to be stronger”

The what now? Keith was already physically strong, it was the mental side of things he needed to work out. He needed to clear the fog of anger when he fought and to think about the bigger picture

“I can’t teach you”

“Bullshit!”

“I can’t teach you”

“I have to be stronger. I have to get stronger! I’m all Shiro has and you have to help me”

“Then for Shiro’s sake, I’m going to recommend therapy. Your body isn’t the weak, it’s your mind”

“Then fucking teach me!”

“I can’t teach you!”

Lance didn’t get his rocks off working out. Training and teaching seemed like so much damn effort. He was old. He wanted to potter around in his garden and enjoy naps in the sun with his cat. He was starting to get another headache all over again, and for some unknown reason his heart felt like it was racing with the desire to do something

“Then fight me! Right here!”

“I don’t want to”

“Why?! Why are you being like this?!”

“Because I’m not to blame for your trauma. You have shit to work out in that thick head of yours. You’re so filled with anger that you’re going to get yourself dead. I doubt that’s the kind of life Adam would have wanted for you. I doubt Shiro wants to bury his brother because you let your anger get you killed”

“I have to become better! I have to protect him!”

“You can’t protect anyone if you can’t protect yourself first”

“That’s why you have to teach me!”

Lance shook his head

“I don’t have to do anything, other than to get my car that your brother decided he couldn’t be bothered returning”

“Shiro would have left it there so he wouldn’t be followed back to you!”

“Then maybe you both should have left when I told you to. Now get out of my way”

“No”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Either you fight me now, or you agree to train me”

“I’m not doing either. I’m going to get my car, then I’m going to drop your idiot arse off back in town”

“Fine! I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone!”

Lance sighed at Keith. What he needed was for someone to reach out and take his hand... but that someone couldn’t be him

“Keith, everybody needs somebody. That’s how life works. You need someone who will lift you up and support you, like Shiro. You need someone who isn’t me. I’m nothing more than a vampire”

“That’s why... that’s why I need you to help me. I need to be better”

“Idiot. You’re already good enough. Try making some friends and you’ll see. Bonds and attachments hurt, but good things come too. Having friends is fun. It’s okay to rely on other people”

“Like you rely on Hunk and Pidge. You haven’t even told them the truth”

“Because the truth would put them in danger. My time with them isn’t a lie. I never thought I’d find two friends like them, no matter how long I lived. But our time as friends has a limit and until then I want to enjoy myself with them as long as possible. Go back to the house and cool your head”

“But... I...”

Lance wanted to reach out and ruffle Keith’s silky black hair. He wanted to do something to take away the heaviness of his words. But Keith forming some kind of attachment would only hurt both of them. It was better to sever the tie before it even began

“I’ll see you later”

Pidge and Hunk were waiting in his car for him. They’d set themselves up in the back, playing uno and getting crumbs from their snacks everywhere. Noticing him first, Pidge threw her hand down, clambering out the back to throw her arms around him

“You fucking afk jerk! Where were you?!”

“Busy. You know it is, just another fun filled day being a lawyer”

“I tried calling you!”

“I broke my phone. I’m okay now”

“Good! You scared me. You didn’t even like call me back”

Lance wrapped his arms around Pidge, resting his chin on the top of her head. He wasn’t sure how much trouble he could have gotten himself in the last 20 hours, but he’d obviously scared her

“I’m sorry Pidgeon. I see you and Hunk let yourselves into my car”

“What kind of idiot leaves his keys on the front tyre? That’s like asking for it be stolen”

“I know. I’m the biggest idiot around”

“You are. Now, where’s Keith?”

Pidge stepped out of Lance’s hold to peer around him

“Keith’s back at the house”

“Why?”

“Because I had a few things to do in town? He’s stuck waiting until his brother can come pick him up”

“Soooo, he’s like free tonight?”

Lance groaned

“Pidge, noooo”

She was definitely scheming something he wasn’t up for

“I think you mean, “Pidge, yes!””

“Nope. I definitely said no. Whatever it is, no”

Pidge crossed her arms with a huff

“You haven’t even heard what I’m about to say”

“That’s because I know you’re always scheming in that evil genius brain of yours”

“I am not! But anyway, you know how they let us use the visitors centre... well, apparently someone saw an actual ghost there today! They called me and asked if we can come back”

Lance looked past Pidge to where Hunk was now shuffling the uno cards

“Did she tell you?”

“Yep”

“And did you say no?”

“Yep”

“And she didn’t take no for an answer, did she?”

“Nope”

“Piiiiiidge. You’re going to give him nightmares again”

“It’ll be worth if it we can capture it on film! Anyway, so, like, we’ll go back to your house, pick Keith up, then come back and get my stuff, then we’re all going to go film a ghost!”

Because seeing Keith so soon wasn’t going to be awkward as fuck...

“I don’t think Keith will be interested”

“Of course he will be! He might as well have “I want to believe” tattooed across his forehead”

Keith did believe... it kind of went with the territory

“Pidge...”

“Ah, ah, ah, nope. This is your punishment for making Hunk and I worry about you. And I’m totally driving”

“Not in this life time. God... you really want to do this, don’t you?”

“Yep”

“And Keith has to come?”

“Yep”

“And you’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

Pidge beamed, knowing Lance was such a pushover that she could basically ask him for anything her mischievous little brain thought of

“Nope”

“Fine. Fine. Tonight, only. If we don’t catch a ghost, you’re in trouble, missy”

Pidge threw her arms around Lance again

“You’re the best! Let’s go get Keith!”

Ugh... Nope... Lance hoped that whoever was keeping track of his cosmic record was noting down that this was under pressure and he thought it’d be best to leave Keith alone. He’d told Keith to go find some friends, but now it seemed his friends we’re pretty set on making friends with Keith, taking away the whole “finding” part. Personally Lance couldn’t provide Hunk and Pidge with any higher recommendations that didn’t sound really fucking creepy, bordering on obsessive, and stalkery, he knew the best points of both of them, and their not so best ones, but he didn’t want to go recommending them to Keith because they were supposed to be his friends, and he was supposed to be getting rid of Keith... Fucking humans made things so damn complicated.

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lilith-lovett · 5 years

Text

Found Families - Home is Where the Hart is - Chapter Nine

A new chapter has arrived, initially I was dreading writing this chapter but I actually got it done in only a few hours and it is a pleasant mix of overbearing fluff and painful angst which seems to be my specialty. I am going to apologise in advance because it gets worse before I gets better but it will get better for Logan, I love him to much not to give him at least some happiness. Just need to get through a truck load of angst first. So hope you enjoy and I really live reading all of your nice comments so thank you.

Masterlist

Summary: Logan has another encounter with Madame Claire and Patton has a very important conversation with his children.

Word Count: 4952

Warnings: Child abuse, past child abuse mentioned, anxiety, self-deprecation, disordered eating, food mention, blood mention, physical description of injuries, bruises, knife mention, vomiting mention, panic attack mention, self esteem issues, therapy mention, death mention. (This is a dark one so please be careful when reading and if there is anything I have missed please let me know)

Logan lead Patton down the hallway, winding through corridors, paying no mind to the children who stood by and gawked. Sharing disbelieving whispers between each other as they passed them. Patton ignored them also, far to excited by the prospect of meeting Logan’s teacher who they discussed regularly, Logan speaking very highly of her. He was glad Logan wasn’t entirely alone in his place, happy he had someone to confide in and support him when he himself couldn’t. Encouraging Logan to open his heart and allow the real Logan who had been hidden away for so long to make an appearance. Patton was eternally grateful to her for not believing in the lies spread about him by the other matrons, for supporting his intelligence and not squandering his wild spirit.

They eventually stopped in front of a door. Logan knocked, three times, three repetitive raps of his knuckles and the door swung open to reveal a young woman. Not much younger than Patton himself, dressed modestly in a brightly coloured, blue and yellow chequered patterned dress which fell to above her knees, a silver chain settling daintily on her chest. Raven locks scraped back, styled into an up-do secured with bejewelled hair pins. The corners of her mouth stretching upwards into a grin, emitting an friendly and welcoming aura as she welcomed the pair into her equally as welcoming office.

“So this is the man I have heard so much about?” She said closing the door behind her. Patton’s stomach fluttered. Logan had talked about him.

“All good things I hope,” Patton joked releasing a little chuckle as Logan’s teacher did the same. That was a good sign.

“Of course, I am Maggie Blair. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” Maggie said extending a hand out toward Patton who took it graciously.

“You too. My names Patton Hart and I assure you I have heard nothing but good things about you from Logan also,” Patton responded flashing a smile in Logan’s direction who quickly averted his gaze, a rosy flush visible on his cheeks.

“I’m pleased he thinks so highly of me,” Maggie said leaning back casually against her desk. “Now, there is much I would like to discuss with you. Logan could I have a moment to speak in private with Mr Hart?”.

Logan after a brief moment of thought and a final glance between the pair, nodded before turning and exiting, closing the door with a soft click behind him. Maggie gestured Patton to sit and he collapsed into a pile of pillows which decorated the well-worn armchair in the corner of Maggie’s office. While she perched on her desk, feet barely scraping the floor beneath her. Her former light-hearted expression had shifted, being replaced by a much more serious one but it hadn’t lost any of its former warmth. And Patton knew immediately what it was she wished to discuss with him. Logan.

“He has been so much happier since meeting you,” Maggie said with a smile, glancing towards the closed door where Logan was presumably waiting.

“I’m glad, he deserves some happiness after everything he has been through,” Patton replied he could feel the tears building up behind his eyes. No child deserved to go through what Logan had and Patton was determined to give him the childhood he never received, no matter the trials and tribulations it took to get there.

“I suppose you have heard about his past then?” She asked her tone dropping as she broached the serious subject.

“Yes, one of the matrons told me a little of it,” Patton said remembering what Mrs Davis had told him and what he had researched on his own, as the case had been almost entirely televised because of the high-standing of the accused, but he refused to press any further until Logan was ready to tell him in his own time.

“Then you know life hasn’t been easy for him, I want nothing more than for Logan to be taken away from this place and brought into a loving home but I cannot do it myself as much as I would like to,” Maggie admitted scrubbing a hand underneath her eyes, wiping away tears which had escaped from her eyes rolling down her cheeks. “Please take my number, call me if you want some real information about Logan or if you want to check up on him. You’re a good one Mr Hart, Logan deserves someone like you,”.

“He deserves far more than I can give,” Patton replied drawing his phone out of his pocket to receive Maggie’s phone number, giving her his in return. “ And please call me Patton,”.

“Thank you for not giving up on him, Patton,” Maggie responded stretching out her hand once again and again Patton took it, smiling warmly as she dried her eyes and allowed Logan to return. His gaze shifted between to pair, surely attempting to deduce the nature of their conversation but she merely smiled at him which received a ghost of a smile in return. “Now Logan, once you say goodbye to Patton you come right back and tell me all about your day out,”.

Logan nodded in response once again leading Patton through the winding corridors, now free of children, presumably having found something much more interesting to occupy their time, before returning to the foyer. Patton exchanged pleasantries with Mrs Davis at the front desk, assuring her he would be making another appointment to see Logan very soon but he had an important conversation to be having with his own children first. As Logan stood-by, clearly raking his brain for the correct words to say.

“Thank you Patton, for allowing me to accompany you on your outing. I am truly grateful for the experience,” Logan said. Seriously could he get any cuter? Patton internally squealed.

“Aw you’re welcome kiddo, now I promise I will see you real soon,” Patton replied once again reiterating his promise before forcing himself to turn and leave, waving to Logan from behind the panel of glass until he disappeared from view.

The moment Patton turned the corner and vanished from Logan’s visual range, he ran immediately back to Maggie’s office, to relay to her every individual detail of his day out with Patton; showing her his own copy of The Murder of Rodger Ackroyd, re-telling every one of his awful puns, illustrating the astounding beauty of the Planetarium, of each twinkling stars as it travelled across the projected sky, entire galaxies awash with colour, a simple explanation could never do it justice. He told her of their conversations, dissecting every one of their interactions throughout the course of the day; from Patton’s insistent compliments, him listening intently to Logan’s passion-induced rambling about space, the fragile bond of trust established along the way.

Logan talked and talked and talked. He talked until his cheeks hurt from overexertion and his words came out in breathy pants and his stomach growled ferociously, snapping him out of his hyper-fixation. He internally winced at his own lack of self-control. He should know better by now to keep his damn mouth shut. No one wanted to hear him babble on about his feelings. Why couldn’t he just be normal? He bowed his head in preparation of the inevitable punishment or groan in frustration, followed by the reiteration that nobody wanted to listen to him ramble on but it never came. Logan risked a glance upwards to witness, not the agitated expression he expect but Maggie, a smile with a brightness comparable to that of the sun on a hot summer’s day stretched across his lips, deep creases forming in her corner of her eyes and the sheen of unshed tears present in her mossy green eyes.

“Wow, it certainly sounds like you enjoyed yourself,” Maggie said extending her hand to ruffle Logan’s hair, he shifted out of her range, shooting her a half-hearted scowl which she responded to with a chuckle.

Logan released a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding at her positive reaction. Feeling the weight lift from his chest and the tightness within his throat subsided as words began to build up once again, waiting with anxious anticipation for permission to be expelled and a nod from Maggie gave him that permission.

***

“Now Logan, as much as I would love to keep talking to you. I think you have dinner to be getting to,” Maggie said halting Logan in his re-telling of all of the new titles he had discovered at the book-store. Had it really been so long? Logan glanced towards the small window located at the back of Maggie’s office, noticing the single stream of sunlight filtering through the curtain and the settling sun as it began to disappear into the horizon.

After Logan said goodbye to Maggie, he made his way to the dining hall where the majority of the other children had already gathered, tucking into their own merger meals, not sparing a single glance towards Logan as he searched for an isolated table. Locating one in a back corner, tucking into his own plate of food, chicken and vegetables in order to quell the hunger which had been building over the past hour. Cutting and organising it until it was acceptable to eat, flipping through the first few pages of his brand new book but instead of focusing on the story he allowed his mind to wander. Reflecting on the day spent with Patton, it had been perfect. Logan couldn’t think of a better word to describe it.

Logan continued to reminisce until only he remained - under watchful gaze - in the dining hall. He had paused in his consumption a quarter of the way through his daydreaming session, momentarily forgetting his meal but it had grown cold and he discarded the rest. He prepared to retire to his room, hoping it would be long before Brandon and his posy returned from the common room. Granting him peace and quiet to read his new book.

But fate was rarely ever kind to Logan and not long after leaving the dining hall encountered Madame Eliza, a murderous glint present in her eyes and a sinister smile stretched across her lips as she caught sight of her victim. Logan’s breath caught in his throat as he raked his brain for an excuse, in effort to escape but was seconds to late when she seized his wrist, her grip tight enough to bruise and dragged him along behind her, without another word.

The silence was deafening.

She deposited him in her office, slamming the door behind her, the room shuddering with the force of it, the lock sounding with an stomach-churning click provoking him to flinch. Logan kept his trembling hands hidden by behind him back, attempting to conceal the paralysing fear mounting within his chest, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip in order to maintain his appearance of composure. The metallic taste of his blood filling his mouth. But he knew his efforts were all for naught. Madame Claire saw right through his weak façade, a devilish grin stretching slow across her lips, taking pleasure in Logan’s distress even emitting a curt bark of laughter at the sight of him. Routed in place. Unable to move. To shout out. To defend himself as approached painstakingly slow. Dragging out each step, the heel of her shoe scraping against the wooden flooring, seemingly growing in size as she moved like a predator across her office until she was within touching distance of Logan.

“Now dear Logan, do you know why I brought you here?” Madame Claire asked clamping a hand down on Logan’s thin shoulder, wincing in pain as she dug her thumb into his collar bone. Her touch, though cold, seared through his thin shirt blistering his skin. Sending chills throughout his entire body but he did not struggle, knowing well the immense pain she would inflict if he did.

“No Madame,” Logan whispered, his quivering voice barely audible, coming out in raspy pants as if a giant pair of hands had forcefully torn open his chest, seized hold of his lungs and were painfully squeezing the air from them.

“What was that!” She exploded. She dug her fingers into Logan’s hair and yanked, jerking his face towards her, flaming red with rage. Logan yelped at the sudden pain, fear completely taking over as the tears he fought so desperately against flowed down his cheeks, only intensifying Madame Claire’s amusement.

“No, Madame,” He choked out, louder this time before she eventually released him with a sharp shove, sending him scrambling for the nearest surface to steady himself, his legs far to weak to support themselves.

“Pathetic boy, you know what you did. Has your time spent with Mr Hart blinded you? Your disrespect shall not go unpunished” Madame Claire growled seizing a hold of his wrist and shoulder once again, pressing his body into the desk, the sharp edge slicing into his lower back. “Though I will admit, it has been amusing watching you pine over Mr Hart. Still holding out hope that someone will want you?”.

Logan’s brow furrowed. What was she talking about? Patton liked him? Didn’t he? He had mentioned - on returning to the Orphanage - having had met with Madame Claire. What had they discussed? What had she told him? Had she turned him against the prospect of continuing to meet with him? Did Patton hate him and only indulged him on their excursion out of politeness? Logan had expected this from the beginning but the confirmation weighted heavily on this shoulders and the salty tears which had only just stopped seemed to build up again. Patton’s frequent visits had become an integral part of his week. Could he simply return to the crushing loneliness he lived in before?

“What,” Logan whispered as Madame Claire’s smile grew.

“Oh you poor, stupid boy. You didn’t know. Mr Hart doesn’t care for you, he doesn’t love you. He only visits you out of pity which is certainly more than you deserve. No one could ever love you and don’t go forgetting that now,” She said a sickly sweet smile stretching across her painted red lips, a smile which could fool even the most suspicious of people but Logan knew what that smile meant. “Do I make myself clear?”.

“Yes, Madame,” He answered the response falling automatically from his lips as he lowered his head in defeat, preparing himself to face the punishment. After all he deserved it.

“Good, now where were we. As yes I remember, you need to be taught a lesson boy,” She jeered tightening her grip on him until he audibly winced, pain shooting throughout his entire body but he knew this wouldn’t be the end. It never was. But he never fought back, never told anyone. His last remainders of hope of the pain ever ending slowly dwindling into the great, black nothingness.

***

Logan’s punishment had lasted far longer than previous and once he was finally released he painfully limped his way to the bathroom, where he promptly lost his breakfast, lunch and dinner to the toilet. Despite his desires to simply curl up on the cool bathroom floor, he compelled himself up and into the dormitory where the rest of the boys had already retired to their beds. Collapsing into bed came as a bitter-sweet relief. On one hand it gave his legs a well deserved break from standing for hours on end and the warmth provided by his blankets proved comforting but yet there was no possible position to could sleep adequately in without aggravating his newly administered injuries. Covering not only the back of his thighs but a splattering of bruises climbing up his back, deep purple rings around both wrists stretching along his forearms and biceps, a severe clicking of his right shoulder joint sending excruciating pain shooting through arm with every sharp movement and the most traumatic the miniature nicks of a pocket knife staining his shirt red.

After twenty minutes or so of struggling to find a comfortable position. Logan gave up. Curling in on himself despite the agonising pain this caused and silently sobbed into his pillow. Begging, praying for an escape for someone, somewhere to come and safe him. To take away his pain, to hold him tight and tell him everything would be alright. But things rarely ever worked out for Logan.

From Pattoncake

To Emmy-gem - I plan to tell the kiddos about Logan tonight. Wish me luck <3 <3 <3

From Emmy-gem

To Pattoncake - Good luck Patty. Tell me how it goes. <3 <3 <3 <3

From Pattoncake

To Emmy-gem - Will do. See you later <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 (I will not be outdone :) )

Patton set his phone down on the counter, inhaling once before exhaling. This was it. He was finally going to tell them about Logan. He had written a script and everything, planning out everything he was going to say, to prevent either Roman or Virgil from panicking. Roman didn’t take the news of adopting Virgil and Dee particularly well and ended up locking himself in this room for a full three hours before Patton managed to coax him out with the promise of a movie night, of all of his personal favourites but it didn’t prevent him from despising his new brothers the moment they officially met, especially Virgil.

Their arguing was constant. Clashing personalities resulting in pointless arguments, bickering and cruel nicknames. Patton was already on edge from progressing from one child to three and his sons non-stop squabbling certainly wasn’t helping, but over time their relationship improved. Connected in their shared passion for the arts and their love of Disney which prompted several intense yet not anger-fuelled debates every movie night. Discovering they weren’t so different after all. Developing from sworn enemies to fast friends but it wasn’t until Roman witnessed one of Virgil’s more severe panic attacks he fully accepted him as his little brother and swore a unbreakable oath to protect him. Though they are now more tolerant of each other because of them nicknames have become a staple within the Hart household. Some of Patton’s personal favourites are: Princey, Sir-Sings-a-lot, Hot Topic, JD-Lightful and my chemically imbalanced romance just to name a few.

It wasn’t only Roman’s reaction Patton was worried about. Virgil’s mental health, though improving, was incredibly unpredictable and had been the cause of many sleepless nights for them both, especially in the beginning. Despite Virgil having been officially his son for almost three years, he still had his days when his anxiety took over, filling his head with ugly, nasty thoughts. Those days when he begged Patton to send him away, screaming he was bad luck and would only cause hurt in the end. Those days were the worst. He couldn’t take away the years of torture he faced or the evil thoughts which infiltrated his mind. All he could do was hold his son close as he cried, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, telling him again and again how much he loved him until the thoughts eventually quietened and he fell into a deep and hopefully dreamless slumber. Though now, attacks like that were uncommon but not unheard of. How would Virgil react to Patton’s news? He had been making a lot of progress with his new therapy plan and Patton didn’t want to ruin all of his hard work but he couldn’t put off the conversation any longer.

Patton paced the length of the living room, waiting in anxious anticipation for Roman and Virgil’s return from school. Paper in hand, where he had carefully written everything he wanted to say. He recited the speech over and over again to Dee, who sat swaddled in blankets playing with his stuffed toy snake, blissfully unaware of Patton’s inner turmoil. Patton felt like he was back in high school, the night before a big presentation, practising his delivery over and over again to his stuffed animals, trying to commit it to memory.

After ten minutes or so Patton eventually gave up, stuffing the speech into his pocket and collapsing onto couch allowing Dee to clamber into his lap, burrowing his face into Patton’s chest. Patton smiled at the sight, pressing a chaste kiss into Dee’s unruly mop of dark curls.

“What should I do Dee Dee?” Patton asked the toddler. He didn’t expect an answer, so he wasn’t surprised when Dee merely stared at him be until his face split into a toothy grin and pressed a wet kiss to Patton’s nose causing Patton to giggle at the affection.

“An excellent idea Dee. I will attack them with kisses,”Patton exclaimed pressing kisses to Dee’s chubby cheeks as he squirmed and squealed in delight.

The pit of anxiety which had been building in his stomach since arriving home had eventually began to dissipate, as the impending conversation fell deep into his subconscious in favour of watching cartoons with Dee. Until the bus arrived and the nervousness returned but he swallowed it down smiling warmly at his children as they walked in, bickering as per usual. This was it. He was going to do it.

“Hey kiddos, how was your day?” Patton asked as he usually did.

“Perfect as per usual my dear padre,” Roman exclaimed striking yet another dramatic pose as he discarded his bag and threw himself rather theatrically onto the couch, Virgil following suit, curling into his corner on Patton’s left.

“Surprisingly okay actually,” Virgil admitted with a shy smile, allowing Dee to crawl from Patton’s lap into his own.

“Virgil, did you actually say something positive about school. Aw kiddo, I’m so proud of you!” Patton squealed wrapping Virgil into a bone-crushing hug despite his half-hearted groans and squirms in protest.

“Yeah, yeah get off,” Virgil muttered finally freeing himself of Patton’s grip. “Don’t get used to it, I have an image to maintain,”.

“Don’t worry Virgil, you’ll always be my emo nightmare,” Roman said crawling across Patton’s lap toward Virgil who promptly kicked him in the face. “Hey ouch!”.

“You deserved it Princey,” Virgil quipped sticking his tongue out at Roman who returned the gesture as Patton giggled at the interaction.

Patton truly loved his famILY. But if he wanted to introduce a new member, he needed the approval of his children. The conversation was unavoidable now.

“Hey kiddos, can I talk to you about something kind of serious?” Patton asked his previously light-hearted, jokey tone disappearing from his voice which didn’t go unnoticed by Roman and Virgil evident from the changes in their expressions. Roman sat up straight, cheeky grin falling from his lips and Virgil curled in on himself, pulling his hoodie tighter around his thin frame and a visible tremble in his figure tips.

“Is someone dying?” Roman blurted out.

“What no…” Patton began.

“Are you dying?” Virgil interrupted his voice shaky and his expression laced with fear.

“No, no, no one is dying,” Patton reiterated watching the relief pour into his sons faces. “But, there is something I want to talk to you both about,”.

“What is it?” Roman questioned leaning forward in anticipation, while Virgil shrunk back hugging Dee closer to his chest.

“I am planning on adopting another child,” Patton said quickly, breathing a sigh of relief as he did. “But I wanted to tell you both before anything was finalised,”.

Patton sat back, attempting to gauge their reactions as both were silent. Roman uncharacteristically so. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few minute before anyone said anything.

“Are you…are y-you replacing us?” Virgil stuttered his voice barely louder than a whisper.

“No, no, of course not. Nobody is being replaced,” Patton exclaimed hoping to expel Virgil’s spiralling thoughts before they triggered a panic attack. “No one could ever replace you, my dark strange son…and my darling Prince,”.

Roman jolted at the mention of his nickname, he had previously been staring into his lap, refusing to meet Patton’s gaze as Virgil spoke the question he presumably was also thinking. Patton took Roman’s fidgeting hands into his own, rubbing comforting circles into his palms and forcing Roman’s eyes on him.

“Roman told me something similar the day I told him about you and Dee,” Patton said with a warm smile. After Patton managed to coax Roman from his room, all those years ago, he admitted his outburst was because of his fear of being replaced but he quickly dispelled those fears and Roman begrudgingly agreed to meet with Virgil and Dee (which didn’t go entirely well). “But I promise you no one is being replaced,”.

“Then why? Aren’t we enough?” Roman pleaded becoming visible frustrated. This situation had been what Patton had feared, broaching this topic, knowing both Roman and Virgil’s history with trust and self esteem issues.

“Of course you are but there are so many children stuck in care homes and orphanages. I have a chance to make a real difference in this child’s life, granting them a life and a future they never would have had otherwise,” Patton explained knowing they would understand both having lived in and gone through years in the system themselves. “And I think you’ll both really like who I’ve met,”.

Silence enveloped the room once again. Virgil had shifted out of the corner, his shoulder nuzzled against Roman’s - an action Patton would have squealed at in better circumstances - and Dee remained in his lap, blissfully unaware of the situation. While Roman sat slumped over, hands still firmly clasped within Patton’s, both deep in thought.

“Alright fine. Tell me more about this kid, they must be really cool to get you this happy,” Virgil said eventually with a sigh.

That Patton could do.

Patton talked on and on about Logan. About his extreme love of space, his obsession with detective novels, his adorable bouts of excitement at the mention of one of the subjects he was passionate about. He relayed in detail their interactions, every conversation, every debate about anything and everything. But not mentioning anything regarding Logan’s upbringing or past without his consent.

“He also told me today that he would be willing to meet you, if you would like to?” Patton asked hoping and praying for the answer to be yes, bringing him one step closer to Logan officially becoming a part of the family but completely prepared to give them more time.

“I’m down, he sounds kinda cool,” Virgil admitted with a nonchalant shrug and then all attention was turned onto Roman.

“Ugh fine, if it will please you I shall do my princely duty and meet with him also,” Roman said after a prolonged silence, striking another of his royal poses, swiftly returning to his energetic self. “But he sounds like a total nerd,”.

“Yay, I’m so happy!” Patton exclaimed dragging all three of his children into a crushing bear hug, two much more willingly than the other. “Thank you for giving me the most wonderful children in the world!”.

“Okay, okay. Get off!” Virgil groaned finally escaping from the confines of Patton’s but a small smile was visible on his face.

“Aw come on Charlie Frown, you love us really,” Roman teased still firmly wrapped in Patton’s arms.

“In your dreams Princey,” Virgil quipped. Provoking their light-hearted bickering with some new creative nicknames thrown in.

But Patton didn’t care. Everything was finally falling into place. His little family may soon be introducing a new member and though they weren’t the most conventional of families, to Patton it was perfect.

To Patton his famILY was perfect.

Notes: I tried really hard to find good nicknames for Patton and Emile, Patton’s was easy but Emile’s ended up being a lot harder so I ended up choosing something related to Steven Universe (which I haven’t actually seen beyond a few episodes please forgive me) so if anyone has any better ones I would be grateful. Now why does Roman (a twelve year old) know about Heathers? My answer is I really like the JD-lightful nickname so I am using it. Lastly I really like some of the dialogue in this chapter especially between Patton and Maggie, so I am actually kind of proud of this one.

Tag list: @i-do-not-dislike-fudge @poems-art-darkness-n-more @alex-cain @amber1594 @darkrainbow333 @falseh0od @lovingcreatorstrawberry @mason-does-a-thing @callboxkat @tacohippy56900 @anxiousangel121 @comicsimpson @harrypotternerdprincess @cobythinks @whatschooldoesntteachyou @fandomkitty8

Please if you would like to be added to the tag list or have a question about the series please do not hesitate to ask.

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teaandgames · 5 years

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Yakuza Kiwami 2 Review (2017 - 19)

I feel like sequels give developers a bit of a chance to go crazy. I was talking to a friend about this when we were playing through the new DLC for Borderlands 2. Borderlands, the original, was silly but fairly reservedly so. Borderlands 2 was absolute nuts. As is the case with Yakuza. Yakuza, and subsequently Yakuza Kiwami, had a fairly straight laced plot. Yakuza 2, and Kiwami 2, have the fanbase and scope to make it a little more crazy. I’m talking punch-a-tiger-in-the-face crazy.

And yet it works. Yakuza has always been a little silly in its side content and one of the biggest problems was how it didn’t quite fit into the seriousness of the main plot. Now the plot’s got aboard the crazy train, I feel like it’s gelled with me a lot more. There’s still a semi-serious core, with some proper character development going on with Kiryu, but it knows when to have a laugh. Couple that with an impressive engine change and you’ve got one hell of a sequel, even if it does spend a bit too long wasting my time.

Yakuza Kiwami 2 opens with the Tojo clan on its knees. Kiryu and Nishikiyama’s antics in the last game cost it a massive section of its family, not helped by the fact that Majima has buggered off too. As a result, they’re in danger of crumbling, which means rival gangs are getting hungry. In order to secure their future they attempt to ally with another clan, the Omi Alliance. Unfortunately, their resident dragon, Ryuiji Goda, isn’t happy with that and kidnaps the Omi Chairman, sparking off a web of double-crossing and intrigue. And silliness, of course. There’s a sense of over-the-top here, especially when a giant golden castle rises, quite literally, out of the earth. It’s full of ninjas and tigers.

Ninjas aside, as a core plot, it’s pretty good. The chairman’s capture gives Kiryu a core goal to work towards and the antagonist is set up from the get go, giving lots of opportunity for neat twists. More subplots get brought in too, as foreigners from a Korean mafia start to meddle in Tojo affairs as retribution for an event that happened a few decades ago. It’s a bit more involved than in the previous games and Kiryu actually has some sense of direction this time around. It feels less like he’s being batted around by other characters.

He also goes through some actual character development, something that was lacking in the previous games. His gruffness, with occasional moments of heart, was beginning to get a little stale before but the loss of his best friend, and his regret over his Yakuza years, actually begins to show here. You really feel for the guy. Side characters too feel fleshed out. Kiryu’s sidekick and love interest, Kaoru Sayama, is great, as well as being a total badass. That seems to come with the territory in this game.

The story does have a tendency to meander around a bit though. At times you take the kid from the first game, Haruka, around town with you, where she wants to eat like seven meals in one night. It’s kind of cute but an unnecessary distraction that’s stitched into the main plot. There’s already enough side content as it is, one more piece wouldn’t hurt. Or perhaps it would, because a lot of the side content is relegated to filler. The sports games get you more heat actions, which is nice. But the big ones like the Cabaret Club, which returns from Yakuza 0, end in nothing but a slight paycheck. It very much feels like I’m wasting time on them, they need to filter back into either the plot or the character levelling.

Still, there are a few mini-games I like and those are the ones that let you hit things. The Coliseum being a prime example. You and an unlucky bastard sealed in a cage. Sometimes it's electrified. These fights are the best way to showcase the new and improved engine. Kiryu’s heavy backswing has been replaced with a punch that can wrap a grown man around a lamppost. Ah, ragdoll physics, how I love you. It was quite a shock to kick someone and see them fly across the street. Hilarity aside though, the engine makes fights feel a lot smoother and your blows feel heavier too. Heat actions remain the same, though with a few new ones to try out.

The added bonus of this engine change is that Kamurocho and returning town Sotenbori both look amazing. They glisten in the rain; a wonderful blend of dark colours penetrated by neon. I’m beginning to love walking around Kamurocho. It hasn’t changed over the course of three games and that’s a good thing. It’s beginning to feel like home; I know street names now without having to look at the little marker. It’s always nice when a series hits that level of familiarity.

Honestly, I think Yakuza Kiwami 2 might be the best Yakuza game so far, even if it is technically a remake. It has none of the dissonance that plagued Yakuza 0 and Yakuza Kiwami and the new and improved combat is a definite bonus. I think I’ll always look at Yakuza 0 most fondly, as it was my first, but technically speaking, Yakuza Kiwami 2 has the edge. Plus we can punch tigers in the face, a fact that I will not stop repeating. All of the madness and punching comes to a satisfying conclusion, even if it does pull a bait-and-switch right at the very end.

It also has a growing reliance on Quick Time Events, which is something I’ll have to watch out for as the series goes on. We've reached the end of the Kiwami remakes now, with further games hesitantly planned for remasters somewhere down the line. I like this series so much, though, that I’m tempted to get a PlayStation just for them, which is saying something. Yakuza Kiwami 2’s excellent combat, decent story and shiny new engine has reaffirmed my love for the series. I might just play through the New Game Plus modes to continue scratching the itch. Back in a bit. Pros -Great new engine making everything look and feel nicer -Core combat remains great -Kiryu gets more development -Decent story running throughout -Fully embraced its silliness Cons -The side content doesn’t really yield anything -Keeps interrupting the plot Yakuza Kiwami 2 Developer: Ryu Ga Gotuko Studio Publisher: Sega Release dates: December 7th 2017 (PS4, Japan), August 28th 2018 (PS4, Worldwide), May 9th 2019 (PC, Worldwide) Play it on: Windows, PlayStation 4 Played on: Windows

#Yakuza #Yakuza Kiwami 2 #Yakuza Kiwami #Gaming #Video Games #Tea And Video games #Action #Sandbox #Article #Review #Sega #Ryu Ga Gotoku #Windows #playStation 4

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bbnyu · 4 years

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It’s always difficult to say goodbye to things like this.

A baby sprout, who had been planted as the smallest of seeds and had begun to slowly flourish, slowly bloom, as time and nurturing energy coaxed it out of the soil and into the light. So much potential, so much possibility; what would it have looked in the dazzling sunlight, at its prime? I see a dusting of light pink at the edges of its core, hinting at something soft and lovely and intimate. Such possibility, but something I can only imagine, now.

I think back to when we first spoke, at the excitement and joy of our conversations. You were so nice and so pleasant, and you were Cantonese, like me; we grew up in such a similar culture. We were the same. I always wanted to hear from you. I spent hours talking to you; curled up on the stretcher, the dim light filtering past the curtains. I remember typing up long stretches of messages and the pleasant surprise when I got your messages back at such a late hour. We are so similar, I thought. We would get along well, I thought. You were always my favourite out of them all.

The first time you suggested we meet, I was in the middle of a late lunch with my dance team. Of course I would meet with you, you were the one I wanted to meet the most. I had coloured contacts on and I worried you would find them terrifying and unnatural so I took them off in the car as I waited for you. I fussed over my make-up in the backseat. I fidgeted with my shirt. I worried I would smell funny because I’d gotten quite sweaty while filming and I didn’t have any perfume or cream to put on. But when we met, you did not seem to mind, to feel disappointment at who I was. You were so tall and your face was so handsome behind the mask, I felt the world go fuzzy around the edges. And you were so easy to talk to, quiet but also capable of carrying a conversation. My heart soared and I knew this was what I was waiting for. You were who I was waiting for. When you spoke Cantonese clearly and accent-free, I thought all the stars had aligned and this was it. Your imperfect teeth made your face more charming and I was amused by your inability to make eye contact for over two seconds.

I remember getting dinner with you - Japanese curry. You picked me up and I was so nervous; when you put your arm around my headrest to reverse, my heart pattered. I didn’t have to worry though, you spoke and our conversation flowed like we’d just seen each other in real life yesterday, with no breaks, and laughs littered throughout the drive. We spoke of family, of kids, of the future. Our thoughts didn’t align completely but you listened to me when I spoke, instead of brushing me off.

In the dark, there seemed to be something electric between us. I was painfully aware of how you sat, how close you were to me, but how much we didn’t touch. You didn’t enjoy physical proximity and were a germaphobe, you said. You avoided my hand when I reached for the popcorn. But you leaned close to murmur in my ear during the movie and I thought you shifted closer as the movie progressed. In the car, you started to tease me, to roast me, and I noticed that you weren’t afraid of eye contact with me anymore. You held my gaze, demanded my gaze, and made butterflies soar in my stomach. You touched me voluntarily, for the first time. We made a pinky promise and you wouldn’t let go, despite driving, and I was warmed by our growing attraction. You made me feel like we developed a deeper connection, like we were heading down the right path. We were going slow, but that was okay - as long as if we reached the destination, I’d be okay with stopping to smell the flowers.

I was so touched when you drove specifically out of town to see me. You were swamped with work, as usual, but you braved the tedious drive for me, and only me. You drove back the moment I left. It was then that I realized that love languages were true and different in all individuals. I felt honoured and warmed that you would do so much for me. Ask to call all the time, even when you were busy. Ask to see me almost twice a week. Rearrange your schedule around mine. You even brought me to your house and showed me your guinea pig. I felt things were getting serious.

But there was someone else, doing equal if not similar things to make my heart jump, to make me blush, to make my eyes light up brighter than the stars in the sky. He moved fast and secured our relationship early on; our chemistry developed quickly from there and became simply more. I still felt soft and affectionate towards you but that was nothing on the pleasure and the tranquility I felt with him, like we were meant to be together, as two halves of a whole. I knew it had more to do with what you were doing, as opposed to who you were. Your face pulled me closer as I felt your personality and words distance me; you were always so sweet and kind but there was something missing. We were not a good match.

We are not a good match.

And for that, for my relationship, I said goodbye to you. I dragged it out as long as I could but you were so devoted, so sweet; how could I lie to you, only to deliver the death blow later? Like leading a pig to slaughter? And so I called you. And you took it beautifully. You did not fight, you did not cry, you did not shout. You were only as practical and abrupt as you usually were, hanging up as soon as the point had been gotten across. I hope I did not hurt you too much, you never truly told me how much you liked me. I hope you find love, wherever you go, and I hope you find happiness. I know we will never see each other again, which I find is one of the sadder parts. Our sprout, ripped clean out of the earth, never to be seen or planted again. Only an empty hole where all our previous happiness, joy, and affection had been devoted to. Empty. Bereft. But I understand that is your way of moving on. And so will I.

So this is me saying goodbye. Goodbye forever.

#2020 #201023

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james-tiernan · 4 years

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WEEK 3- WRITING FOR PERFORMANCE.

Q1- DRAMATURGICAL CHOICES IN OUT OF THE WOODS.

When talking about this pieces dramaturgical choices, the moments that stood out for me were mostly visual. The piece is set as if we are watching through somebodies phone. They are using an app, something similar to ‘Snapchat’ where people communicate via small video conversations. The people that he’s communicating with are shown on the left hand side of our screens. When he sends a message to them their profile and picture lights up and sits at the top left. This is to show us as audience members, who precisely is getting the message. These profile pictures give us a direct sense of those characters he is talking to. The first character we are introduced too is his daughter. Her profile photo is a blonde haired girl, smiling ecstatically at the camera. This depicts her character as one who gives our main character strong positive emotions of happiness, love and affection. The next character we are introduced to his mother. In contrast to his daughters profile picture, his mother has a rather unflattering photo. She has a pale white face and is frowning rather than smiling. This gives connotations to the audience that this person gives our main character negative emotions. To further this point, our main character says during the piece: “I chose him over you didn't I?” This line is said through tears. This shows how our protagonists character has been made to make some hard and hurtful decisions because of his mother. As an audience member, these two different dramaturgical techniques of language and visual representation in media form have come together to tell me about a character who has not yet said a word.

In terms of urgency, I think that its best created via the tempo of which the videos have been edited together. There is never a pause between videos, the change from one conversation to the next is rapid. The topic also shifts quickly too. You can tell this is a successful attempt to increase the tempo and thus increase urgency as the play still flows effortlessly and we are always intrigued. I think the tempo actually helps keep the audience on its toes and always wondering what he is going to say next.

Q2: Dramaturgy in: Where I Go (when i cant be where i am)

This piece offers more of an audio based experience in comparison to Out of The Woods. The piece is all about how a woman deals with her mental struggles. There is nothing physical causing her pain, however, these mental struggles she faces actually causes her physical pain. Because this pain is not caused by something physical, it is hard to put into words what she feels. The playwright has tackled this by using audio and imagery to show us as the audience what this pain looks and feels like. The imagery and audio play with our senses.

In terms of audio, there are many moments where we listen to the woman talk normally. She talks to us sometimes as if we are hearing her stream of consciousness come straight from her mouth, no filter. Sometimes she talks to us as if we are the person she talks about. She directly addresses the camera and speaks to us through the screen. This confuses us to what part we play as an audience member. Do we play that person she talks about, or are we just there to observe and listen. Our confusion reflects the characters mind-state too. She tells us, “I fucking Love you”. Then, a second later she says “I fucking hate you”. Another audio technique that is used to portray the characters pain is the reverberations and repetition of words, phrases and sounds. The reverb and echoes are unsettling to us viewers. We aren't used to hearing them, they sound almost alien and as our brains don’t quite understand what they are, this unsettles us, the unknown. Especially when these noises are sharp and loud. The repetition works the same way. We aren't used to hearing people repeat over and over and over in random situations. It’s unsettling to listen too.

The piece also uses imagery. The images within the piece are often distorted. They are distorted in many ways. One way was that our main character was talking but one moment her mouth was moving fast and the it would slow down, barely moving at all. This really resonated with me. I have experienced something very similar to this before having one of my epileptic seizures. The world slows down and the speeds up rapidly without warning. It’s as if you have a bad internet connection with the world around you. Another successful technique that was used, was when they overlapped two video images. This was usually used when the two images were the main characters face, overlapped with a carpet, or a corner of a dark room. The random spaces would usually have a dark colour. One that sticks out for me is the red carpet and a close up of the main characters face. For me, the colour red represented pain. Although you could not see the pain happening. It was there.

Q3- David Lane Essay. What Is Dramaturgy for me?

I look at the mapping of the play, the logic it has: what are its rules, what are its organising principles… I think about plays as a universe….everything in a play is there to exert some kind of force or pressure on another element somewhere in the play….whether that is an object, an idea, a line of dialogue, a gesture, everything in the script has an active purpose…an object exerts a pressure on character….location on person…..there is a dynamic universe of elements whizzing around, knocking together. I aim to learn the language of the play.- David Lane, Progressive Dramaturgy.

This passage from the David Lane essay really grabbed me. I loved the thought of thinking about each play as its own little universe. Like our universe, everything happens for a reason. The flap of a butterflies wing in Africa can change whether it’s sunny or rainy in London. Each and every single thing that happens on stage, happens for a reason. Everything you see or hear has a motive or reason for happening or being there. Dramaturgy aims to make sure that this happens. It makes sure that nothing on stage is happening for no reason. If there is something there, and it portrays little or no meaning, then either find it a meaning or get it out. Without a dramaturgist, plays may become filled with various misleading factors. For example, I saw an amateur production of the play “100″ in Swansea, South Wales around 2/3 years ago. There was a scene where Alex and his girlfriend , Nia , were recalling one of their loving memories. I remember being confused as to why the primary lighting colour was green. To me, green showed envy and disgust. Surely a warmer colour like red would have suited the moment better. I lost track of what was going on on-stage because i was too interested in this lighting choice. Now I recall this memory, I think about the differences that this play may have had, had it had a dramaturgist. My confusion may have been avoided.

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unkindnessofone · 7 years

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5SOS. Rooms You’re Tall In

It’s up! This was a much tougher one to write. I thought I knew where it would go, I had so many notes, but here we are. I would love to hear some feedback. Sending this one out as a thank you to the darling @gotsbadblood. They are always encouraging and supportive. I appreciate it. Also if you love Taylor Swift, it’s a blog worth checking out.

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They had been there before together multiple times, but this felt different than following their parents around for their respective vocations and seeing Parisian life from the safety and comfort of their parent's laps. He was travelling the world as an actual musician, making money for his songs and hearing people that weren't from his neighborhood being impacted from feelings and words that had been produced by his fingers and mind. Then there was her, studying in the city to become a chef, being screamed at in a language she hardly understood while prepping plates for some of the most appetizing food she had ever seen. She wasn't Luke Hemmings daughter when she had her culinary whites on. He was still trying to shake off the shadow of his dad as it danced behind him every time he stepped on stage.

Taking her bohemian dreams to a different level than she had been able to back home in Sydney, Penelope skipped steps on her way out of the subway pit as found herself in a more touristy part of town. She held the crochet strap of her usual purse over her chest as the bottom of her elephant pants, coloured teal, mustard yellow, and a rich purple, dragged delicately over the dirty street. Her eyes were tired, the bags beneath them almost matching the colour of her lightweight pants, but she had taken today as her first day off of work since moving to France. She couldn't spend the Saturday sleeping in and losing out on time with her best friend. Penelope walked straight into the hotel lobby as if she belonged there like any other guest and headed to the stairwell. Connor had texted her his room number and it would have been easier to take the elevator, br she had been surviving off butter, sugar, and jam. Besides, walking up the stairs felt exciting since her doctor and parents had banned almost every other physical activity.

"Hi, rock star." Grinning from ear to ear, Penelope mustered up some energy from the vitamin she took upon leaving her place as soon as Connor threw the door open, his hair as light as it had ever been and terribly curly. As if they had a mental countdown between them, they hurried to hug one another - laughing as they did.

"God, I missed you." Hugging her tighter, shaking at her touch, Connor moaned into her ears that were poking him back with her gold conch shell studs his mother had made for her. "You smell like...thyme? Is that thyme?" Chuckling, he asked as she started to slip out of his arms.

Penelope lifted up her arm and smelled her elbow before yanking on the collar of her plain white t shirt and sniffing it next. She was low on laundry. From living on her own, she was learning she hated to do laundry.

"Honestly, I smell like a pantry now. It's just my life." She shrugged, smacking her arms against both her sides. "I brought you something." She raised his brows with peaked interest as she unzipped her purse and reached around into its contents, producing a small jar of mixed berry jam. On the tightly sealed gold label, she had stamped 'Penelope Hemmings Jam' with a small conch shell in black ink.

"Thank you." Connor held it in one hand, admiring her self made label and leaning in to hug her again, using one arm this time.

"So you can taste home wherever you go."

"I have something for you too." He held his hotel room door open wider for her, allowing her in as he stepped through to where his suitcase was resting open on the queen sized bed.

Fidgeting with the fabric of her pants, Penelope looked around and the room and concentrated on nothing. It felt uncomfortable to be alone in his hotel room. Connor was her best friend and they had been countless hotel suites together, but last time they had seen one another they had kissed. She wasn't sure if that had stopped meaning anything or where they were at yet. Over texts neither of them had brought it up.

Penelope leaned her shoulders against the wallpapered stripes and watched him. He looked stronger somehow which made little sense to her as they hadn't been apart very long and she followed his life closely online. Penelope chalked it up to her head. She was trying to learn French and cooking with a permanent concussion, maybe it was making a mess of the way she saw things even a guy she knew better than the instructions to the perfect pancakes.

"Here you go." Standing up straight again, Connor offered her a closed yellow envelope with her nickname written across it in his forever clumsy penmanship. "Four tickets to the show tonight."

"I can't believe I am going to see you live in an arena tonight." Grinning, Penelope took the envelope and then held her arms up above her head to shake them around with wiggling excitement.

Laughing, Connor stepped in to hug her again, picking her up and twirling her around which invited high volume laughter from his favourite girl. He snuggled his face into her neck, breathing in her new scent, but when he went to part his lips slightly and leave a kiss behind he was surprised that she leaned her neck and head away. Connor took the cue and politely put her down on an end corner of the bed.

"So are you best friends with your idol now? Or one of them." Penelope teased while leaning back comfortably onto her flat hands. Everyone knew that as much as he was inspired by the opening act, Ashton Irwin was Connor's truest idol.

"Paul is cool." Humbly, Connor informed her. "He's living up to my expectations, but he definitely is more quiet and distant than I thought he'd be, ya know? With how crazy he is on stage."

"People are full of surprises." She mused even though more often than not, Penelope found herself guessing what was about to happen before it did and being correct. She was a good judge of character and she figured that came from meeting so many people at once constantly as a little girl on tour. One had to learn fast who was good and who was just pretending.

"Like Molly." Connor mused with a wiggle of his brows, sending them under his mess of curls that were someone else's nightly problem now.

"I can't even imagine your Dad's face." Penny shook her head, eyes shut with disbelief. A dedicated cheerleader of a father, Penny imagine her Uncle Ash still hadn't picked up his frown from the floor since finding out Molly had been arrested.

"They were way more upset she was in a relationship and didn't tell them." Honestly, Connor had been bummed out that his sister didn't confide in him either. He laid down on his back on the bed next to Penelope, hanging his legs off the edge.

"He's really hot." Pen mentioned casually. When the news filtered through the many group chats, Emmeline had taken it upon herself to send everyone pictures from the Internet of Molly's rugby beau, Flynn O'Malley. Connor stared at her blankly, absorbing her comment and trying not to expose how much he didn't care for it. It had always been him obsessing over girls and Penelope blowing off the advances of everyone. Connor wasn't sure he had actually ever heard Penny call someone that wasn't on TV hot before. He knew now that it didn't make him feel good.

"I guess." Connor tried to laugh it off, staring at her blond hair from where he laid like it could tell him a thousand secrets. "I got to go to a radio interview and sound check in a little but. How's your French? Can you translate for me?"

"I could, but I'm not going to." There was nothing about a life that mirrored her dad's that interested Penelope. She wanted to stray as far away from living beneath a microscope as she could. Sometimes she considered using one of her middle names or her maiden name in place of ' Hemmings' just so she was less traceable. Penelope knew how much that would hurt her father though. They had talked about it. "People would start rumours I was your girlfriend if I showed up at interviews and your show with you." Penny laughed awkwardly.

He wanted to ask her if that would be so bad, but Connor wasn't sure his singer-songwriter could take the answer, "Is that why you're bringing a bunch of friends tonight? You don't want anyone getting ideas?" He asked instead.

"I'm just proud and I want to show the people I'm close with here to see my best friend and all can do." She was staring down at him with her usual loving eyes, but the sun bleeding through his balcony window illuminated her to look like his own personal angel.

"You're the best." His hand reached to cover hers over the bed as they both shared smiles from one another. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." She had been so busy in her new life that e didn't occupy her thoughts constantly, but once a day when she was sitting on the train or learning a new French phrase, he popped into her mind and lingered.

Connor wanted to pull her down. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and moan how much he craved her over and over into her hair and neck. She was keeping her distance from him though and he knew he would pummel some guy who made her uncomfortable. Connor would never forgive himself if he was that guy.

"You're coming to the party tonight after, right? I want you to meet some people. They hired a bassist for us and he's so dope. He's from South Africa and might be completely insane."

"Can't wait." Penny joked. "I want you to meet my friends too." Along with her, she was bringing some of her petite Paris family that she had naturally put together. Alexandra, Cerise, and Jules. "They're excited to meet you as well. I've been playing your music for anyone who will listen." Her cheeks blushed a mauve tone which felt unnatural since very little made her nervous. "You should probably get ready, huh?" She knew he had a busy day ahead and was just fitting her in for a sliver of time this morning.

Like a child, he whined, "I don't want you to leave." It was the same way he felt when she was packing for France ages ago.

"You got to go be the Connor, the Rock God. I have no choice, I'm just a lowly culinary student." Penny fished her hand out from under his, beginning to slouch her way off of the bed entirely. She still had things to do on her day off as well. Nobody was trying to interview her, but she had research for school and she planned to cut her own hair in the bathroom before going to his concert. Plus she had to go to the open market to pick up more ingredients for homemade jam and salsa. Canning had become a fun past time to do in her tiny kitchen with friends. It was a love second to surfing. Nothing would ever replace a board and waves for Penelope Hemmings, but staying up in her kitchen until 4 in the morning in her pajamas with good music playing and fruit in a pan could tide her over.

"There is nothing lowly about you." He said with great conviction, his eyes screaming his opinion as a promise to her as he took her hand again. "You're the amazing Penelope Hemmings."

After wishing Connor luck, Penelope let herself out of his suite. His lips had tainted her as she said goodbye with their knees knocking. Penelope felt like there were too many things to consider. She was falling in love with her new life and her independence. He was on tour and had always taken up with other girls. She imagined he was meeting so many different bodies now that his career was on it's launching pad. Of course, there was also the new people in her life to think about as well.

As she squeezed between two doormen squabbling in French, Penelope reached into her purse and pulled out a bent thin paperback to read on the subway along with her cell phone in its Australian flag phone case. She had missed two texts from her friend, Cerise. The first one in French and second translated to English. The two girls had paired up on the first day of class and became fast friends over their mutual disdain for the know-it-all guy who sat two stations ahead of them.

"I will see you there." Excitedly, Penelope texted back and tossed her phone back into her purse before heading to her subway stop. Somehow, Cerise had managed to score a brunch reservation at Cafe Lola and it was on Penny's long list of places to eat it mostly because of their lemon curd that was apparently the perfect balance of tart and sweet. Penelope was starving anyway. Today was going to be perfect.

As soon as she pulled the black glass door open to the busy spot, Penny was greeted by cutlery clanking against plates and chatter so frequent that it was just static around her. It reminded her of being in the restaurant kitchen just without the heat and pressure. Penelope loved when she was in the middle of chaos which was strange given how little interest she had in drama. It was just that when she was surrounded by noise and movement she felt closer to the feeling of surfing. She was tranquility in something made without control. It was thrilling.

Her eyes scanned around the room for the vibrant red pixie cut she sat beside every week day in class. Instead, she spotted Jules sitting by himself with a cup of coffee and a kindle in front of him. He was waving at her up high by the time she linked her eyes to him. His smile sent her waking by the hostess stand and through waiting groups of patron.

"Salut, Penelope." He stood up and greeted her with a hug, one hand resting on her back. She loved the way he said her name in Picardy influenced accent. It always sounded like he meant to say 'antelope'.

Penelope kissed around the stubble on his cheek before taking a seat right beside him, the spot across from her vacant for their third.

After exchanging pleasant how are you's en Francais and flagging down a server to order a lemonade for Penny, the Australian-American reached into her purse and retrieved the paperback that she had tucked back in after reading it on the subway. Jules turned off his kindle and moved it to the side, leaning in to give the beautiful girl his full attention.

"I like this one better than The Three Musketeers." She told him, flipping through a couple dry pages of Gaston Leroux's 'Le Fantôme de l'Opéra.' with Penelope being the type desperate for adventures, Jules had assumed she would love The Three Musketeers, but she had texted him somewhere around chapter two giving it five thumbs down emojis. Penny found the page that she had drawn neon orange highlighter marks on with his permission. It was his clever way of helping her with her French. He gave her books to read and asked her to keep track of the words she didn't know. She had gone from requiring him to read her whole pages while she cooked him dinner in her suite to just needing help with a few words every couple pages or so. Penny dragged her nibbled finger nail to the word and tried to read it before noticing Jules was rubbing at his right knee.

"Are you alright?" Even though she could say it French, she said so in her native tongue to better express her concern. Jules would have detected it in the way she leaned in and dropped what she was doing.

"I love that I can still get you with that." Chuckling, Jules tapped at his prosthetic leg and watched Penny relax with a sigh and fix him her meanest mug that was cuter than it was cruel.

They met at the tapas restaurant they both worked at. Jules played piano with the jazz band and met Penny while rushing through the kitchen late for a gig. He had snatched a piece of baguette she was using for a bruschetta platter and found his chin at the tip of her sharp blade until he put it back down onto the surface. It wasn't until she was mixed up with directions on how to get home that they found themselves talking and getting to know one another better. He fit in with her friends from school because he was relaxed and the girls were wild. He had quickly become a very close friend. One of the only people she actually liked talking to about her surfing accident.

"You're a gomer." Her Aussie accent shone as she rolled her eyes at him and leaned back into her book, turning it around to show him the words she was struggling with. She often looked them up on her own, but it was nice to be with a local that she trusted and have him show her better pronunciation and how to use the word.

"Did you have a nice visit with your friend?" Very interested, Jules asked while leaning in and looking at the book he lent her. She was at the part where Christine and Raoul were hiding from the Angel of Music in the roof of the opera house, vowing to protect one another and love each other for eternity.

"Yeah, it was quick. He has press and stuff." Penny shrugged. "But it was really nice to see him. He gave me the tickets for tonight. Thanks again for coming." She liked spending time with Jules and, like her, he had a true appreciation for live music. It wasn't just about screaming and having drinks for him which Penny liked because she detested both.

"This word, bagarre," With a clean fingertip he poked under the word she had highlighted. "It would be like...how do you say?" Jules bit down on his bottom pink lip, a small scar in the middle that she had noticed as soon as they met. "It's like a duel, but less formal. A brawl!" As he was talking, he figured it out. "Raoul would step outside of himself and brawl with them phantom in order to look after Christine if he needed to." Jules didn't even realize that he had begun to use his hands in front of him to explain the story.

"That's what I thought." The rest of the sentence only made sense that way, but it was still helpful to hear her friend say the word aloud. "Bagarre." Penny repeated and celebrated mentally when he shot her a thumbs up, a gesture he liked because it seemed American.

"C'est bon! Oui." Celebrating with her proudly, Jules reached over and squeezed her arm right before her lemonade was set down in front of them. Penny would have watched his hand over her if the server hadn't shown up. She peeled her eyes off of his hands that were strong and worn out from a lifetime of playing music so she could order a tray of pastries for the table. She hadn't forgotten how badly she wanted to try their lemon curd. Penny nodded her head into her shoulder and watched as Jules watched her, the arrival of her French friend who reminded her so much of Emmeline interrupting their sweet, but nervous silence.

"I'm here and I'm hungry." Kissing Jules cheek first, Cerise exclaimed as fast as she could in French before rushing over to greet Penny with a kiss as well. While Cerise put herself together in her spot, stripping off her pink jean jacket and talking about her morning, Penelope watched Jules listen. His side profile was what had caught her gaze and daydreams in the first place. She was confused. He was very much her first real crush from the excitement that tickled her stomach when he texted her to the nerves that took over her mind when he waved 'bonjour' when he saw her at work, but then there was Connor. He had lusted after her for so long, written songs about her, and they kissed before she left in front of so many people. Did she talk to Connor about a long distance relationship or did she keep dreamed about the French jazz musician with eyes that she swore had flecks of 24 karat gold in them.

*************************************************

Penelope hadn't been wrong about her day. It started with a tight squeeze from Connor Irwin, followed by pastries that lived up their rave reviews, a little time sitting on a bench in Rene Binet garden with Jules, both of them reading their respective books while wishing they brought sweaters. Autumn was fast approaching. She went home in a dream-like state, having a little cheese and jam while cutting her split ends in front of her perpetually foggy bathroom mirror.

She wasn't used to the confusion that seemed to swirl in her brain like creamer freshly poured into morning coffee. She felt like a moron the way her mind was drifting between imagining a hectic life that mirrored her parents with Connor Irwin and an easy melody with Jules where they could cook, dance, and create together. Penelope used to roll her eyes when her friends would stress about boys, but she was reading her textbook with her French to English dictionary on her bed and wondering what Connor's mouth between her knees would feel like it if the way Jules said her name would feel as good as it sounded.

She was thankful when Alexandra texted her that she was on her way so they could get ready for the concert together. The two girls who worked in the male dominated kitchen could gab together about other topics. Alexandra dreamed of running her own catering business in the South of France, only working for the most elite events, and her dreams helped Penelope figure out where she wanted to take her new skills. So far, Penelope Hemmings just really liked making jams and salsa. It wasn't exactly a launchpad for a real career.

Once in her favorite sweater, a blue and white check pattern that her Grandma Christie from her mother's side sent her, and slipped into a very worn out pair of black jeans, Penelope was ready to spend the night with both boys who were holding the logical side of her brain captive. She rested her butt on the edge of her claw foot bath tub and braided her friends hair, breathing in the third cigarette Alexandra had lit in the last fifteen minutes.

"I listened to your friend's music the whole way here." The older girl spoke after her drawn out inhale, her thick almost black hair being massaged by Penny's nimble fingers. "I don't know him, but does he write about you? I felt like his songs, some of them, they were about you." Alexandra had obviously figured out that the tune 'Penny and Me' was all about her new beach loving friend.

"I think so." Forever modest, Penelope explained. They didn't have a deep enough friendship yet for her to be forthcoming. They usually just talked food and work. "We grew up together, you know? Our dads are best friends, they were in the same band. I don't think I had a day without Connor until I was, like, four." It was a slight exaggeration, but they did spend more days together than apart for most of their early years. It wasn't until they grew into preteens that they started to choose to run in the same circle.

"It sounds like he loves you." Alexandra let the cigarette smoke curl upward as she glanced behind her to inform Penny. She wanted to see her reaction even if it was lackluster. "Do you love him?" She inquired as soon as she turned her head again.

"I didn't think we were going to talk about guys..." Nervously, Penny chuckled back. "Weren't you going to give me a recipe for some kind of bore entree?" Penelope was obsessed and wanted to soak in all the different techniques and meals she could.

"I will." She rolled her eyes. They worked together, there was time to teach the blond how to make a bore lasagna. "Do you love him or do you still have, what do you call them, giggly eyes for the drummer?" Alexandra had been working with Jules since she was hired over a year ago. He didn't ever register in her world though until she investigated who the guy walking Penny home every night was even on the evenings he didn't work. Girls had to stick together and look out for one another, she figured.

"Googly eyes!" Loudly laughing with her head back and her blond hair falling to the dimples above her butt, Penelope taught her. She supposed that giggly eyes still described her as well. "I don't know, Alex. I wish I did. I've never been in this situation before."

"Wait!" Letting her second braid come completely undone as she yanked it from Penelope's hand, Alex looked up with an enlarged stare and almost blew smoke right into Penelope's almost nude face. "You're a virgin?!" It was a real plot twist for Alex. She just assumed that the daughter of an Australian rock star with legs as long as pi in its entirety would have banged out a boyfriend and a few wild strangers in-between.

"No more. I'm not talking about this." Penelope drew her line in the sand. She readjusted her almost straight hips on the bath tubs edge and took to her friends hair again. The girl who was once known for how laid back and chill she was (like ice cubes in a finished glass of iced tea) was flustered and embarrassed. She felt like every time she entered a different room in Paris she was finding a different part of herself. It was the biggest adventure of all and she was not impressed with it.

*****************************

She was blaming it on her busy mind, but Penelope felt lost in the crowd during Connor's act at the Paul Shimnowski Band concert. She had no idea how many concerts that she had attended in her entire life, all of them she had loved, but this one she wanted to sit out. She had arrived so excited with her hair falling Cher style down her back and her phone ready to take a hundred pictures a second. Instead, she felt the headaches that she suffered randomly since her accident come on the moment she was a part of the large crowd in the concession areas. She followed Alexandra and Cerise, staying next to Jules as they squeezed through to find their floor seats. Maybe, it was because all of Connor's shows she had attended up until this point had been small venues, local ones that she had seen other decent and not-so-good bands in. This was a stadium. This was the kind of show she grew up watching her Dad put on, but of course, more folksy. The smell of weed lead the vibe of the entire show. She usually danced freely at Connor's shows. She was his biggest fan and former number one merch girl after all. She would raise her tanned arms above her space buns and turn her body in every direction she could without colliding with anyone, but not tonight. Tonight, she hugged her chest and watched her friend with a tight lipped smile. The kind that silently shouted, 'I am not okay'.

Connor looked every bit like his father with his mom's chin and jawbone. Somehow he managed to hone his mother's poise and grace while still embodying his father's goofiness and charm. It made it hard to pull your attention away from him when he was practically making out with the microphone and his hands were massaging the instrument he was playing, seducing the crowd by gyrating to his own songs. It could not be denied, as far as Penelope could see, Connor belonged to the stage. He always said he was born to play music for the world and she hadn't ever doubted him. Now she knew that nobody would be able to. The crowd around her was reasonably new to Connor. He had been relatively unknown outside of Sydney until Paul Shimnowski took him on tour, but she could hear over 5,000 other voices singing along to the song, 'Slipping Away', a ballad he wrote about her, about being with someone else and wishing he was with her, a song that Penelope had heard over a hundred times, but she couldn't remember any of the lyrics. Her head knew the words, her mouth was well acquainted with them, but her brain refused to connect them to her memory. It even struck her as a surprise when he whispered her name into the microphone, singing out loud how he felt clearly, 'Penelope she sleeps so soundly, somewhere in her bathing suit...'. She had heard the line before, even recalling the first time he played the song for her in his parent's backyard while she scratched at one of his big dog's ears, but the words were lost in the fog her head produced.

To her left, looking for sanctuary, Penny looked over at Jules by her side. He was standing still, just watching Connor with a contented look blanketed by a blue glow coming from the stage they were near to. She moved her attention down to the military green chinos he was wearing. She could see at the bottom of one pant leg the fabric outlined his metal prosthetic. He had opted to wear it over his one that better resembled a limb for reasons she knew not to be her business. The sight of his prosthetic, though covered, was a source of comfort to Penny and she leaned into him, knocking her arm against his and gaining his attention for herself.

“You're the Penelope, right?” Jules asked right in her ear, still saying her name how he knew it to be pronounced and not how Connor had just sung it. He had found her to be a small recurring theme in Connor Irwin's songs especially the sappier ones.

“Indeed.” She brought both palms to her chin as if to frame her face for him before laughing gently. “Connor invited me to an after party. Do you want to come?” She knew Alexandra couldn't because she worked in the morning and Cerise was all, but seething that she couldn't because she had obligations with her own boyfriend and his very religious family that attended church every Sunday.

“I'm going back to the restaurant.” Jules explained with a half-frown. Music was his life, just like it was Connor's, and even though he would gladly take any night off for a concert or if Penelope needed him to, he loved going to see his friends play and always wanted to find an opportunity to jump in and jam. He knew he wouldn't make it to the place they both worked at until nearly 11 pm, but he also knew that his seat behind the kit would always be warm and welcoming to him.

“I didn't know.” Penny shrugged. She didn't know which event she wanted to be at more, Connor's after party or her work where Jules would be playing with the rest of the jazz group. She felt obligated to Connor's since she had agreed to be there that morning.

“You'll be okay?”

“Oh yeah, I'll be fine. I just thought it would be fun for you to come too.” She knew it would be. He was a simple calmness that her life was missing. He chased adventures and liked new experiences as much as she did, but Jules was older by a year and needed time to lay in bed and relax. He forced Penelope to just slow down sometimes.

** * ** * ******

Still hugging her chest, Penny waited backstage against a cold white brick wall that she had once leaned against before as a three year old, waiting with a stomach ache for her Aunt Grace to take her back to the hotel for a medicine and a long nap. The way her Uncle Michael told the story was that she ate too much stinky French cheese and threw up everywhere, but the truth was just simply that she had a terrible stomach ache and both her parents were working their respective on-the-road jobs.

Penelope waited behind hoards of people. Some speaking French, but most gabbing back and forth in slang English. She wasn't invisible, eyes looked her up and down, but no one engaged with her, so she kept to herself. In her purse, she still had her copy of The Phantom of the Opera if she really needed it. From over top of a small balding man and very angry looking woman, she spotted Connor's sweat slicked forehead. Penny stepped forward in a lunge movement and waved. He was in the middle of being spoken to by two people at once, but as soon as Connor spotted her, he dove between his new manager and a label executive to talk to her.

“You were out of this world!” With delight and honesty, she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck as he twirled her around.

“You're here.” He moaned against her cheek with a smile that almost broke free from the confines of his face. “You're stunning!” Connor was never light on compliments around his favorite Hemmings, but since they kissed, he felt better about always saying how he felt and right now he felt that she was the most beautiful girl he had seen all day. “Where are your friends?” He looked around, certain that he had given Penelope more than enough passes to come see him backstage without any hassle.

“They all have cooler lives than me.” She excused, as if going to an after party for a concert wasn't anything to write home about. “You're stuck with just me.”

“I'll take you.” Connor threw his arm around Penny and started to walk her closer to the people he now shared his life with. “What did you think of the show?” Her opinion was the only one that truly mattered to him.

“I think you look like a young Ashton Irwin. It was so bizarre.” Penelope tapped both her cheeks with her open palms as she looked up at Connor. “Like, I'm not sure if you're my Uncle or not.”

“Don't be sick.” He playfully shoved her away just to pull her back with the same arm he draped around her like a useless scarf. “Did you like some of the new stuff? I'm just constantly trying out new material. Paul thinks it's the best way to figure out new music, play it live in front of as many people as you can and gage the reaction.”

“It was cool. You're getting kind of Dylan-ish.” Well acquainted in the world of music even though she didn't feel like she had much artistic talent herself, Penny critiqued him. “But like both his eras, you know? Folk and electric. I dig it.”

“Awesome.” Connor tightened his arm around her, bringing her in closer for a hug. He led her into his dressing room where his two best music buddies from back home were packing up their instruments. “I'm just going to get changed. You cool to hang with the guys?” He asked, but Penelope had already escaped his grip and was sitting on a coffee table next to a bowl of pretzels, talking to the guys she knew from spending all her free time at the Wax 'n' Wake by the beach back in Sydney. Connor watched as she easily made herself fit into any room effortlessly. He wondered if his new schedule would change how he felt for her, but his feelings were strong as ever. She was still the image that waltzed through his mind when he was working on new music or the voice he wished he could hear after a particularly challenging day.

** ** ** ************************************************

Outside, where the air was crispy through a hollow wind that was announcing October was just days away, Penelope was dressed perfectly in her cozy sweater and jeans. Inside of the club, she was cooking like one of her first attempts at baklava. It turns out hotter doesn't always make something cook faster. Penny excused herself from the booth that Connor and his ban were occupying, squeezing her way past two very drunk and very French girls to make it to the stairs. She didn't realize that Connor was following behind her until she almost slapped his face off by whipping the smoking door open and shut.

"Are you okay?" Once outside, relief from the heat and noise greeted Penny. She moved away from the group of smokers huddled by the door and stood out in the open, admiring the street lamp between limp orange leaves in the trees. "I didn't know you were behind me."

"It's okay. I didn't need my nose anyway." Wiggling it theatrically at her, Connor teased. "Are you doing okay?" He never quite knew where she stood on parties and clubs. She was a teetotaller which changed her experience from other people throwing back shots and sipping on mixed drinks. Even before her accident, Penelope didn't have any desire to drink. Still, Connor remembered Penelope as a staple at almost every beach bonfire or high school party he went to. She was always there with her usual cooler than the rest smile and the straps of her bathing suit top poking out of a neckline.

"Yeah, I just couldn't breathe." Fresh air had become a requirement in Penelope's recovery. She spent her first few lunch hours at school walking outside around the building, breathing in the air, and she liked to keep a window of her bachelor suite open at all times. It helped her keep her mind clear or, at least, she felt like it did. "You seem really in your element. I can tell you're happy." It was nice to not have to check. With her brothers and Emmeline, she had to check, but Connor's joy stretched through him. It practically screamed into a room.

"I'm even happier that you're here." Connor moved in close just as Penny was lifting up her arms to tie back all her hair, allowing a cool breeze onto her neck and her small chest to press against his. He had no complaints about the movement. "I wish I had more time here. You could show me around or I could see your apartment." He tightened his hands together behind her back, right where her dimples were. "We don't have a day off til Lyon and I'm assuming you wouldn't skip school on Tuesday to hang out there with me."

She was shaking her head before he even finished speaking, "As much as I plan to go there, no way." If she missed a day of school, she missed an entire lesson. Culinary school was fast and Penelope wasn't as whip smart as she used to be. She really had to focus now where she could slack off before. "No." She finished the same sentiment. Somehow, and she wasn't quite sure how, Penelope's hands had left her hair and were both laying flat against his chest which made him flex out of insecurity.

"I understand." He nuzzled his head closer to hers, making their conversation private from even the prying ears of the breeze around. "We will just have to take advantage of tonight then." It was only half past eleven anyway. Connor kissed her forehead and then her cheek. It felt safe and comforting. Penelope felt drawn in, but stepped back anyway.

"Do you want to just go and hang out in my hotel room?" Connor asked and tried to follow her eyes that she was now hiding from him. It wasn't the first time someone had asked Penny back up to their room, but it was the first time she was tempted to agree.

"Connor -" She sighed out his name with frustration. It confused him even though she meant to direct it at herself. Penny had a hand on her forehead and her heart in her throat. "Con, I don't know what to do." He was her best friend and she didn't want to start keeping secrets from him now.

"We don't have to go to the hotel. I didn't mean that in a pressure filled way." Right away, he hurried to defend himself. "We could just, like, catch up or watch TV."

"No, I'm not upset about that." She assured, her hand still massaging sat her temple. "I like you. There's a part of me lately that would love to go back to your hotel room." Enlarging Connor's pupils she surprised him. He instantly cleared his throat and fidgeted his arms at the sound that she had thought about being with him. "There's a part of me that thinks nobody could ever see me the way you do, but..."

"But?" He was stunned she could follow both those reveals with a 'but' and his voice showed it.

Penelope stared at him, her hands finally both at her side, as she tried to read her own racing thoughts. They were four steps apart from one another and Penelope swore she could hear his nerves beating beneath the thin material of his black shirt, "I like someone else too." Like it was a sin, she admitted it, flicking the words out from behind her teeth at his frozen face with the tip of her tongue.

It was obvious he was disappointed as his head instantly fell and a few of his lazily tamed tangles of hair fell free. Penelope figured other girls might apologize in this situation, but she didn't. She made a point not to just apologize unless she was sorry and she was not sorry for how she felt for either Connor or Jules. It was nearly autumn, the wind was cold, but she was slowly burning in the parking lot with Connor almost on fire just steps away from her. Their silence was aching and she could hear it's melody like someone slamming on out of tune piano keys.

"It's that guy in your photos?" It took Connor a minute, but eventually he figured it out. He followed Penny's photo page online closely and the only two photos he hadn't liked was one of her in her white coat at work sitting with Jules in the walk in freezer of the restaurant and the other was just of Jules eating her jam with a large spatula on her balcony. Every other picture, he laughed and admired before giving it a heart tap.

Penelope only nodded in response. She wanted to be truthful, not hurt him.

"The guy with one leg?" It was obvious to Connor that the picture of them in the freezer, Jules in shorts, that he had a prosthetic limb.

"Yeah. His name is Jules." She didn't know if Connor would want that detail, but it came out of her anyway.

"You brought him to the show?!" For a second, Connor felt stung, but he puffed out his chest as he told himself that he had put on a great set. "Wait, he's the drummer at your restaurant." It was coming together quickly now that Connor had the perimeter of the puzzle pieced. He remembered in one of their earlier phone conversations that Penny had mentioned she made friends with a musician, a drummer at the place she was working at, and he was going to show her around Paris. Connor had felt jealous initially, but when she never brought him up again he figured that it was nothing. "He's a musician." He didn't like that for some reason. Maybe it was because he didn't want to have anything in common with her crush or it was because he felt threatened. Connor was on tour and this guy worked with Penny night after night.

"I've never known you to be into somebody." And he had known Her forever even when went through a phase where she wore a lollipop body mist that made her smell like sugar cane. Connor was flabbergasted. "I really thought tonight was going to go different. Honestly, I thought we would just pick up where we left off." Connor really did imagine Penelope's hand in his and the two of them kissing backstage, their young blood rushing around as she finally let herself be with him.

"You want to be together while you're flying around the world?" It was Penelope's time to be surprised though she supposed she shouldn't be because Connor was always fanciful and believed in fairy tales. They were different that way.

"Yeah. Why is that so bizarre?" She had a crooked smile on and her head was posed to the side, asking him to be real.

"It would never work." Penny had gone over the situation in her head plenty of times. She was in school and couldn't visit him whenever and he was on tour and couldn't stop by Paris whenever he felt like it. They could never be there for one another. Right now they were too restricted. Plus, she didn't know Connor to resist the attention and affection of girls who were fans of his music.

"And it's different with Jewel - ?"

"Jules." She corrected before he could continue.

"He plays music too. What is it just because he wasn't good enough to tour?"

"Okay, easy, you're not David Bowie." Penny pointed out with her face holding a frown. She really didn't want to upset Connor, she just didn't want to lead him on either. "And Jules is really talented. There's a lot of talented undiscovered people, you know that!" It wasn't that long ago that he had been recording music in his bathroom and wishing someone would give it half a listen. "I really like both of you." She didn't even know if Jules had any feelings for her, she just knew thinking about him made her feel like there was a ticking time bomb inside of her.

"He has one leg!" Connor laughed as he raised his voice.

"So?" She couldn't believe he was bringing that up so she made sure to narrow her eyes into him and step closer, letting him know just how crazy she thought he was being. "You have dirty blond hair." She said to try and show him how moot his point had been.

"Well, come on, Pen, what's so special about him? I've never known you to be into someone."

"He gets it."

"It? Gets what?" Connor squinted to better follow her. "I get you."

"He gets what it's like to have your whole world change from an accident." Sighing, Penelope told him with some embarrassment. She hated having to admit that things were different for her now.

"Wait..." He put up both his hands and waved them in front of himself as if it helped him understand what she was saying. "You have a crush on him because he's disabled?"

"Okay, fuck you." Penelope said it like she was wishing him good luck. It was simple and sincere. On her toes, she moved forward to rush away. She didn't know where she was and she couldn't remember where Montemare was from where they were standing, but in that moment, she thought being lost would be better than arguing with someone she trusted to never hurt her. Her blond hair whipped behind her like a reptiles tail as she stalked away. She could hear Connor's voice painfully calling her name, pleading, as his feet shuffled closer. Penny inhaled deeply and ignored her instinct to keep walking when she spun around. Their chests were so close to colliding that, out of reflex, Connor jumped back.

"You being cheesed right now is so hypocritical!" She threw her hands down in fists as she shouted into him. "I like both of you a lot, yeah, that sucks, but you dated your way through your yearbook in high school while writing songs about me the whole time!" In case e had forgotten, which he hadn't, Penny reminded him with one large breath.

"I didn't think I had a chance with you." With Penny, she was a mermaid-like angel and, around her, he was just a human with all his flaws. Connor softened, guilt leaking into his previously burning throat, Penny wasn't finished though. He had crossed a line and poked a button. He had never seen her so wound up before and he hated that it was him who had made her feel so awful. He wished now that he could step back five minutes into the past and try to handle his emotions differently.

"You know your parents and their perfect freaking marriage that you're lusting after? You are never going to have it if you don't like yourself on your own first. I was figuring out who I was then I had my accident and I had to figure myself out all over again. I'm not going to apologize for not having time to be your girlfriend and groupie because I was too busy figuring out who I was!" Her own impulsive foolishness had ripped memories and cognitive skills from her and Penelope was very proud of how hard she worked to become someone she liked again.

Connor has never heard Penelope raise her voice. Any time she had been cross before, she played it off cool as a cuke. He had seen her unleash a little on her younger brothers before, not him. It stung and Connor wanted to sit down on the curb and cry. Instead, he ran all his fingers through his hair aggressively holding the ends down and trying to keep from coming undone in front of her.

"Alright, so let's pretend there's no Jules. It's just you and me, you still wouldn't believe we could do it while I'm touring?" He couldn't change Penelope's heart. If she had feelings for two people than Connor couldn't yell at her until he got his way. "No chance?"

"I just don't see...how." Down at the tips of her scuffed up white canvas shoes, she said quietly before looking up to notice how little he cared for her response.

"Why?" Thrusting his chin forward, he asked assertively. "What? You think I'm going to be like your Dad?"

"What?"

"You think I'm going to stay out all night and get fucked up? You think I'll get caught with hookers -"

"That was a rumor and you fucking know it!" Like they were guitar strings, he was playing with her nerves now.

"Whatever. You think I'm going to cheat and not come home just like him."

"He didn't cheat on my Mom!" Penelope growled. She had asked her mom point blank once if he had and she promised that he never did.

"You're still the same little girl who got teased in kindergarten because her dad was in the papers and on TV! You are scared of being happy with me because of my job. Admit it!" Connor huffed at the end. He was out of breath as it has run away with his mouth. Neither of them were used to behaving this way especially with each other. "Penny, what I should have said -"

"Get fucked, you gomer." She didn't let him correct himself. Penny dragged her spiteful glance away from him and began to walk away. She figured she would walk until she was on a Main Street and then take the last subway home. Her emotions were so heightened that she couldn't think straight. Penelope stiffened up her mouth and fought with herself before taking her low battery phone out of her purse and calling her mom. She didn't know what she would say, but she hoped it would center her. It was almost ten in the morning back home on the next day, she assumed her mom would be up running errands or getting breakfast with friends.

She nearly broke into tears when she heard the groggy voice of a freshly awaken Luke Hemmings pick up. It played back every horrible thing that her best friend had just said. Penelope pulled her face away from the phone and checked that she had actually clicked on her mom's name.

"Penny? You okay?" Luke checked the time on his wife's phone as he had reached over her side to pick it up. She was in the shower. "Penny, its like midnight there. " He forgot that she was going to Connor's show that night.

"Dad, I'm lost." She hated admitting defeat. Her frustration with herself was evident.

All at once, Luke panicked, but he chose to take a deep breath and follow the advice of Penelope's doctor and therapist. He couldn't always spring into hero mode. He had to let her learn.

"Okay, that's okay. Can you call an uber to where you are?" He inquired, sitting up and adjusting his wife's pillow behind his back for support.

"I think I'm in a park. We went to a club to celebrate after Connor's show and...and I left..."

"Without your friends?" He didn't hide that he didn't like that.

"It's a long story, Dad." Her sigh was long and held its exasperation until the end. "I know that I'm in Passy which is, like, less than a half hour by car to my place." He was glad Penny knew that because he neighborhoods of Paris were simply French words to him. "The subway station is by Radio France." She didn't know why she knew that, but at some point someone had mentioned that to her and it stuck in her brain. "I don't know how to get there."

"Walk North, Penny." Luke coached her while reaching around to find his phone somewhere in the bed sheets. It was right beneath his pillow. He pulled open Google and began to search on the map for Radio France. Once he had the address, he opened up his GPS app that he used to track all three of his forever wandering children. He found Penelope quickly and changed what he told her, "I'm sorry, Penny, turn around and go straight. I'll stay on the phone til you get to the subway or in a cab." He didn't prefer either. Luke just wished he could drive her around himself.

"Thanks, Dad. I knew where I was and then I couldn't remember. It's been really good though until now." She had Jules to walk her home from work, but she really didn't need him to anymore. She just loved being alone with the drummer and all the tattoos that decorated his arms like lights and bulbs on Christmas tree.

"Are you alright? You could go back to the club and get a car."

"Yeah." Hearing his voice was giving her something positive to focus on. It made her feel closer to home even though they were just over the phone. "Maybe, I should. I just want to be home."

"You will be on December 24th." Luke reminded her while laying back down, feeling calmer now that she did.

"I meant my apartment."

"I know, I'm just teasing. We miss you." He told her that almost every day. "You close to the club?" He couldn't tell that on his phone app.

"Yeah, like, a minute away."

"Just take an Uber, Pen. I will wire you some money."

"I'm fine for money, Dad." Penelope was very proud of the fact that she supported herself. She could never be like her friends who lived off their parents back accounts. Still, Luke always helped her. It was one of the only ways he felt like he could help her from so far away. "I'm here. I'm at the club." She was standing right in the back parking lot where she and Connor acted like children fighting for no reason, but because their emotions demanded it. Connor wasn't there anymore and she assumed he had gone inside with his heart racing and hands playing with his hair.

"Okay. You feel okay?" He didn't want to patronize her and ask her to do some of her memory exercises, so Luke found a more vague way to investigate.

"I'll be fine." She wasn't about to vent to him about how Connor hurt her heart.

"Okay. Love you, Pen. Call anytime." He always reminded her that she could.

"Dad?" Penny didn't want him to hang up just yet.

"Yeah?"

Sometimes, to help her recollection, Penelope would walk herself backwards through her day until she was the place she needed to remember. Right now, she was in the parking lot where Connor made her feel as small as Daphne Hood was.

"You were a good Dad. I know you were away a lot, but I still liked having you as a Dad." Penny nodded and swallowed hard, telling herself as much as she was telling him.

"Thanks." Luke ignored that she used past tense and softened. He had been criticized harshly by people who knew him and many who didn't, so hearing from one of the kids he raised that he earned a passing grade was as comforting as the blanket he was half beneath. "I love being your Dad." He informed her as she approaches the first cars outside of the front of the dance club.

"I'm going to go. Goodnight. Well, morning." Once he said goodbye back, Penelope hung up and put her phone back into its bag.

In an effort to save money and work out some of her conflicting thoughts, Penelope requested for the Uber driver to drop her off on the same block as the place she worked at. It was only a ten minute stroll to her home from there and she wanted to stop in to check her upcoming schedule for the rest of the month.

Penelope squeezed in through the kitchen door where four line cooks were smoking and swearing about the busy night they were in the middle of. When the band came on and the cocktail specials were announced was when people started to pour in. It was a very popular after hours spot for their strong drinks and a generous tapas.

Penny wiped off her shoes on the rubber mat and went to the wall by the office. She could hear the music playing, almost recognizing the staccato song playing. Right away though, Penny knew Jules wasn't on the drums. She checked to make sure she was given the day off before her upcoming exam and then forged forward through the boiling and hectic kitchen. Her eyes checked over moving shoulders as she glanced at different meals being prepared or plated. There was always an opportunity for her to learn. All around her, she heard her name and greeting. She felt better already. This was her makeshift home, this was her out of town family.

She moved closer and closer to the perpetually swinging door that separated the fun loving atmosphere for the dining room and jazz club from the stresses out sweat and swear zoo that was the kitchen. As soon as she had curled one hand around it to push it partially open, a waitress she recognized as Ismay flew by with an empty tray and an annoyed expression that could staple itself into anyone's mind. Penny glanced around the busy room and found Jules right away, sitting on a bar stool with an old fashioned and keeping the beat of the song with his hand on his knee. Due to enjoying the band, he swung slightly on his chair and waved over his head almost as soon as he spotted Penelope. He thought about nodding at her to join him, but it struck him as odd that she had left her friend's party and he could tell that something had happened. She was wearing a face he hadn't seen on her before and, while he thought she was ethereally beautiful, he did not particularly care for it. So Jules carefully hopped off the stool and moved to her. Penelope came out of the kitchen entirely, standing behind the bar in her casual wear.

"Why did you leave?" Jules inquired, leaning into the small bar door that came up to his waist and kept them apart. "Were you not having fun with celebrities?" He couldn't resist teasing her, wiggling his brows as he asked. Jules was not impressed by fancy things and name brands. He grew up with a single mother and modest means between himself and his older sister. He played music and worked as a doorman at Le Royal Monceau. Sure, he had dreams, but he was never impressed by anyone who flashed their success and wealth around. Jules just wanted to be happy right before he fell asleep at night.

"No." Penny sighed and rolled her eyes halfway at the thought of it. "It was weird. I'm going to home now, I just needed to check the schedule."

"Want a walking buddy?" It was a term she had coined for him around the third time he escorted her back to her apartment.

"No. I got it." She was worried about getting lost again, but Penelope really did want to be by herself.

"Okay. Well I'll see you...mercredi?" He could never remember the days of the week in English. Jules hoped to see her before, but he knew that was when they would both be working together. He had picked up the habit of checking her schedule.

"Yeah." Penny promised. "Thanks for coming out with me tonight. Did you like the show?" She realized she hadn't asked after the concert.

"Yeah, it was good. Both acts were good." He admitted while waving his hand back and forth to gesture that they were really just 'okay'. Jules wasn't a big fan of folk or pop music. He grew up on jazz and classic since that was what his grandfather that they lived with played. He was the man who taught Jules everything about rhythm and built him his first drum kit. "It was weird watching someone be so in love with you in front of all those people." He half-laughed through his awkward honesty. "Did you two date?" She had always just referred to Connor as her closest friend, but the performance has all three of Penelope's French friends wondering if they had once been more.

"No." She shook her head and reached around to tighten her ponytail. "We kissed once." She said and instantly wish she hadn't. She looked down into her purse to check the time on her phone noticing that it barely had any battery life yet. She was sitting at an uncomfortable 3%. Penny missed that Jules scrunched up his nose at what she said.

"Do you like him?"

Penny puffed both her cheeks out and let them deflate with a long exhale at his question, zipping her bag back and wondering for a second if her feelings for Connor had changed after their fight.

"I have." Realizing it was a strange way to answer, Penny shrugged. "We sort of fought at the club and we've never fought before." Penny explained to Jules, wrapping her fingers around the bar door again. "I don't know."

"What did you fight about? Was it bad?" He wished his English was better or that her French was more extensive in times like these. Jules felt like he couldn't be as good a companion to her when their was a language barrier between them. He didn't realize his hands had curls over hers, but Penny had and she could not stop looking at them.

"It was just bad because it had never happened before." She spoke directly to their hands. "I hurt his feelings and then he hurt mine back." She supposed that she really just described every fight throughout history, but she wasn't quite feeling as smart as usual tonight.

"What did you say?" In a joking manner, Jules scolded her. He narrowed his eyes in and shook his head very slowly.

"You really want to know?" She asked before realizing that she didn't know if she wanted to honestly tell him.

"Of course." Jules laughed and squeezed her fingers under his tenderly. He couldn't imagine her saying anything that he couldn't handle. His bet was that they just misunderstood one another or that her friend was too drunk to think before speaking.

Penelope tightened her throat which made Jules chuckle at how strange it looked and she tried to come up with a lie. She tried to reason with herself and remember how to be the cool girl that she was known as back home on the beaches of Sydney.

"I told him..." Penny looked up into Jules eyes, but that made the truth harder to share somehow. "I told him...I said...well..." She was embarrassed by how tongue tied she felt and just spat it out, "I told him I like somebody else too."

"Okay." Like it was nothing, Jules accepted with a casual smirk that shrugged above his chin. "So he feels a little crushed. Anybody I know? Someone in your classes?"

"You." She had come this far. There wasn't much point in beating around the bush now. Penny sometimes wondered how different things would be with Connor if he had come out and admitted to liking her instead of just trying to tell her through poetry.

Jules hands loosened on hers and his eyes lightened as he gave her a smile she interpreted as pitying.

"Okay, so I'm going to go jump in front of a car." Penelope uttered a sentence she had heard Emmeline say a dozen times before when she didn't get her way. The words didn't feel right in her mouth, but she pushed open the bar door and tried to squeeze past him. Jules tugged on her wrist, but she yanked it away.

"Penelope! Penelope!" He chased her through the kitchen. After she pushed open the back door, she turned and stopped him from going outside with her. He looked concerned and as if his mouth was full of a hundred things to say.

"Don't. It's okay!" She put up her hand to stop him from coming closer or uttering a word. "Cause I like you both and I don't know what to do. So you don't have to say anything and make it more weird." She really needed to work on her eloquence.

"Can I, please, walk you home?" Jules genuinely wanted to and took her hand in his to try and make that clear.

"I'll text you when I'm there." Penelope just assumed he felt obliged to make sure she was safe. She took her hand back and ran into the night, his eyes watching until she became a dot as dark as the sky was.

****************************

After plugging her phone in and taking a pear from her bottom fridge door, Penny ran a hot bath. She soaked in the bubble free water and watched her skin grow red from the heat. It was comforting and removed how perplexed, hurt, and rejected she felt. Penelope only ate half of her pear before her stomach couldn't bare anymore. She felt too upset and her stomach couldn't handle another bite. Once she was starting to drift off into sleep, she rose out of the bath tub and drained the dirty water. Penelope wrapped herself in her favorite multi-color striped beach towel from back home and picked up her phone from in the dry sink since she used it as a DIY speaker for the Soft Cell songs she was playing to drown out the furious pain from the evening. She noticed that she had four texts and read them as she dried off.

"I'll be in Paris soon. MAKE TIME FOR ME AND ROMANCE MY PALE ASS!!!" Emmeline sent with a string of bright coloured emojis that had nothing to do with her sentiment.

"Are you home safe? You didn't text." Jules wrote about twenty minutes after she arrived at her building.

"I'm really sorry, Pen. :(" Connor had sent around the same time as Jules.

However, Penelope only concentrated on her dad's message.

"Your mum and I are really proud of you. Nice to start the morning with your voice."

Once dry, she put on a pair of sweats and a stained 5SOS shirt from their first headlining tour way before she was born and slept on her futon. She was exhausted so she didn't even bring it down from its couch form. Penelope texted no one and fell asleep wondering where her perfect day went.

#5sos au #5sos series #5sos imagine #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings one shot #penelope hemmings

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manuskrip · 6 years

Text

Goodbye Asian Beauty Standards

I was born in a region where their people’s beauty standard is everything i’m not and where physical does matters. and the fact that i’ve never been successful in my own love life.

My first ex boyfriend cheated on me and my first love treated me like a shit. And this of course the start of how my insecurities and super low self esteem came out. As a girl, it is not so easy for us to accept and realize and be grateful with the beauty we have in our body when….

when you were born in Asia.

When you were born there, all the things you could probably think about soon as you’re a teenager is how to look (at least) okay everytime-everywhere start from the head to toe. But as i grew up, i realized, that I was probably raised in a very wrong state of mind. That beautiful is expensive. that beautiful is white skin, thin lips, slim body, and make up. It’s not a big thing if you can find “beauty skin care’ everywhere on the streets in Asia, let’s say, in my country, Indonesia. It’s crazy to see how it is in Korea where people are allowed to have plastic surgery here, plastic surgery there. slimming pills are made and even worst there are some people who’s trying to be an anorexic because they wanted to look like barbies. Vegan is more like a trend, and fake face in filters are bombing social media.

meanwhile… there’s thousand people who were born unluckily under the standards they saw on the TV. but hell, if we think about it, is it really about people who were born unlucky because they don’t fit the standards or because they were born around judgmental asshole’s circumstances?

so lemme tell you one story.

I am 21 years old girl who has a tanned or let say sun-kissed that’s not so respectable in Asia. My lips are thick (maybe not as sexy as Angelina Jolie’s) and has 2 colors (even worst). i don’t have slimmy-stick-anorexic-posture of body. i mean, with everything i had, im way too far to be able to be called “beauty” according to Asian beauty standards.

And my bad experiences with guys really convinced me how i feel like i don’t deserve being happy with just being myself. I feel like no one will look at me like i really am and will like me despite all of my physical appearance.

When i was still in junior high school, a dad of a friend of mine even called me nisa monyet -- means nisa monkey. And sometimes people (few of them) made a joke about me because i was so brown. they called me “nisa hitam” = “nisa black” which kind of confusing since i’m not even black.

When i was in senior high school i had my (i guess) 17th birthday and i remember my close friends gave me a very big black doll. And they (auf jeden Fall) refer it to me cause i’m ‘black’ and fat. i accepted it of course, it was a gift, and it was the only way to be polite. but yeah it was kind of hurting. even if thats what they called joking.

When i was in studien-kolleg a friend of mine was drunk and all of sudden texted me calling me ‘nisa miskin’ = ‘nisa poor’. Poor like literally poor who doesn’t have money. Cause that’s how people in my country sees through their glasses, that poor people has black skin, that if you’re black or brown, you will be categorized as poor people that never taking care about themselves. So as we know, drunk people always talk what’s on his mind, so he might as well labelled me as one. since i was a kid, i’ve already been used to people who underestimated me.

those people who says bad words to me might be just joking, but those people never know how such mean words could affect another people’s life.

The thing is, this whole time, i’ve never lived in a year where i will feel confident about myself. i did have a massive lack of confidence. For years, for more than 7 years i feel like i’m ugly. Isn’t it so pathetic?

I tried to, alright, accepting myself and i was for several years focusing on something else. Focusing on me and things that i like. ever since then, i started to close my self, and to close my feelings. i started not to care about everybody else who’s in the end will not going to appreciate me because, i dont know maybe they’re ashamed having me as girlfriend or whatever. I cut the words “boys” and “boyfriends” and “love life” from my dictionary. and i’m getting used to it. i’m getting used to be all by myself. And i’m ready to move, into another place, in a hope that people don’t see me only through their eyesight.

and then i moved to Germany. first year was not as good as i thought it would be, but still, it was a lot more better. i don’t have to follow the beauty statement like in my home country. i can be the person i want to be, and no one cares about how i look like. and this way i feel grateful to finally be able to appreciate myself more, to appreciate the simplest things in life, appreciate my skin colour, my eyes, my hair, my capability to adapt, my capability to live alone, my money, water, foods, everything, even to appreciate my own flaws. i learned a lot of things i would probably wouldn’t care about when i just stayed in a cave where people throw me shits because of the things i couldn’t choose before i was born.

but yeah many people think studying abroad is so easy and exciting and luxurious, and cool. but darling, life is sadly not like a movie. People see less about how it is to live abroad cause social media --Instagram-- shows them so much lies. but no i won’t talk about it now. i will elaborate more about this topic in another page.

back to where we were before, so yeah i started to piece by piece building my own relationship here. which also makes me think about writing it down. Friends, relatives, and boys.

with a less capability of speaking germans and culture shock of course its a hard thing to do. at first it didn’t really work out. dealing with your own norms that your parents have been taught you this whole 20 years and thinking about how to fit in. the first six month was okay, i was still trying something new, i was still feeling the euphoria living in a cool country. but i can say the next sixth months after was the hardest time. i started to realize that i might be hated here. i closed my self even more. i mean i do have lots of friends but they’re all mostly just slightly/superficially know me. there’s still no one i’m comfortable to be my own self with. there’s still no one i would like to tell my both sad and happy stories. the study is getting harder, the weather is getting worse, the purse is getting slimmer. my life is like so monotone. going to the Uni everyday, studying at night, doing Lab twice a week, cleaning up my room, cooking, partying on the weekend. that’s all. there was no sparkle that at least lighting up my life. Besides, my family is so far away. So there’s nothing really made me feel happy. and i felt so empty. and then i started to think about boys.

surprisingly, i’ve been dating a few western here. or precisely, Germans. it was so various, i mean i met lots of guys with different backgrounds. i once dating an athlete who happened to be my own senior at the University, once dating a racist capitalist, once dating a nice innocent happy go lucky guy, once dating a broken yellow fever, once dating a rich business man with mercedes benz, etc etc. but it was all turn out just like a speck in the dust because once again, its really not so easy to find a person you can really get along with, when you live in a place where the people don’t speak your language, don’t do your culture, don’t understand your jokes, and don’t have the same experiences like how hard and struggle it is to live like this.

until i met this beautiful and stupidly smart master graduate french, who turned out to be my highlight of the year and to be a person who brought more lights in to my darkness. To be my current boyfriend.

I don’t get what he sees in me. and i guess i never will. However, it’s the start of a better Nisa. I probably would never recognize it if my friends hadn’t tell me . She said that i’m now being more confident and comfortable about with self.

This might sounds so lame but for the first time in my life, i feel like i’m beautiful with all of the things he does. And i’ve never had such thing before because no one has ever made me feel like i do. He made my flaws seems like they’re not. He made me finally found out, that this whole time, my perspective was wrong, that i was being so ungrateful with what i have, that Asian Beauty Standards are bullshit.

Great news for today: i find my old friend again; confidence.

furthermore, among thousands of citizens in Stuttgart, i think i found a best friend. and i’m sure that the story about him will still to be continue.

but now i’m proudly say, Goodbye Asian Beauty Standards!

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gheysnakeredacted · 7 years

Note

All the asks :3c

Das a lot AND answers all my other ones

(Warning, gets depressing at some points)

Sunrise or sunset?

Sunrise!

Are you mentally ill?

I mean, I haven’t been diagnosed(yet) but I have a feeling I might have some form of depression. (I’m going to see a doctor soon for sure at some point to test this out) and possible ADHD

Are you physically ill?

Does back pain count?

What is the most expensive thing you have bought?

My entire Disney trip that I paid out of pocket

Do you have a job?

Yes! I have two!

Are you in school?

Are you a dropout?

Nah

Are you in college?

Introvert or extrovert?

Somehow, I think i’m in-between. Depends on the day.

What do you think when you look at your body?

Big, has weird ass teeth.

What have others said when they look at your body?

Soft?? idk they say im pretty but only at me eyes.

Do you have a particular song that you feel deeply?

Young and Menace by FOB and just, I have a lot but that is just what i’m hyper-fixated on now (and Fever The Ghost which is a really good animated music video)

Talk about a time in your life where you have felt most alive?

Uhhh probably the last time I went on vaca to NH. Good times.

Are you confident wearing a bikini?

Nah. I’m not even confident wearing a one-piece.

Can you look people in the eyes while talking?

Most of the time, but sometimes I can’t.

Has anything terrible happened to you?

Let’s just leave it at ‘yeah’.

Has anything wonderful happened to you?

Yee

Favorite part of your personality?

idk I’d have to say how I can make people laugh really easily?

Least favorite part of your personality?

hyper-sensitive to everyone’s emotions which sucks at points because it can really effect my mood

Favorite part of your body?

Hands?

Least favorite part of your body?

idk?/

Favorite quote?

“The first and simplest emotion which we discover in the human mind, is curiosity” - Edmund Burke

Do you have friendships with all genders?

Yeah Do you have a good relationship with your father?

So and so. I love him but sometimes he needs to just, chill.

Do you have a good relationship with your mother?

Absolutely not!

Do you have a good relationship with your siblings?

I mean, my brother hates me unless I buy him food and my sister tries to hard but I think its not on the hate or good.

Have you ever been hurt physically or mentally by a family member?

Both.

Have you ever had a near death experience?

No?? not that I can think of at least.

Do you know anyone who has taken their own life?

Yeah but I didn’t know him well.

Have you ever tried to take your own life?

Fortunately no. I haven’t gotten the energy to do such things which is good.

Biggest lie you have told?

Me telling my parents I’m straight when they asked me about my relationship with another girl.

Do you follow any conspiracies?

nah

Do you believe in a New World Order?

sure if it makes all this shit around me just Stop.

Do you respect your government and the way your country is run?

What government?? I got no government or President at the moment. Just a monkey and his underlings of death!

Is there currently any strife in your country?

Take a wild fucking guess.

Have you ever been displaced within your country?

All the time my dude.

Are your friendships healthy?

Yeah I’d say they’re good! (unless i’m unintentionally being bad to my friend then idk that just egh)

Are you currently fighting with a friend?

Noep

Are you jealous of a friend? Why?

I’m jealous of my friend going to this art school I wanted to go to because I have no money to go but its not their fault. I just wanted to go with them.

Do you believe in the Illuminati?Do you think any celebrities are associated with the Illuminati? Who?

Nah.

How can people tell you are nervous?

Don’t make eye contact with me at all.

How can people tell you are sad?

Cracking of the voice.

Do you ever express your true feelings?

Most of the time I don’t have a filter so yeah. I do a lot.

Regrets in your life?

Not drawing more.

Achievements in your life?

Some of my art got put on display at my college’s art gallery so that was nice. And I bought a car.

What did people say about you in school?

Gay? Gay.

What did you say about people in school?

I don’t know any of that drama. Not a fuck.

Is there something you have never told anyone?

Yeah I guess.

Have you committed an illegal act?

noep

If you had two days to spend one million dollars how would you spend it?

Pay upfront my dream college tuition then pay for a small cozy house and then give the rest to my friends/family.

What were your aspirations at age 5, 10, 15, 18?

5 I can’t remember, 10 I wanted to paint clouds for a living, 15 I wanted to die, and 18 I wanted to move out of my house AND die.

Describe your first kiss? Was it how you imagined?

Messy and clumsy. Did not expect, after living in my heterosexuality household, for it to be a girl.

Growing up were you in a wealthy, average, or low income household?

Average, low income, then average again.

Are you from a broken marriage?

Yes.

Have you been raised by a solo parent?

No.

Do you know both your parents?

No.

What colour eyes, hair and skin do you have?

My eyes are grey, my hair is dirty blonde, and my skin is pale.

Have you abused drugs or alcohol?

What languages can you speak?

Just English.

Do you conform to your societies standards?

To get paid? Yeah.

Do you cry often?

No.

Do you tell people what you think of them?

Only when its my close friends and its just sappy compliments.

Are you comfortable accepting compliments?

I guess, sometimes I feel as though I don’t deserve them though.

Are you comfortable giving compliments?

ABSOLUTELY!!!

Is any mental illness hindering your life?

My depression sometimes makes it hard to drive without being constantly bombarded with intrusive thoughts.

Is any physical illness hindering your life?

Nah.

Do you keep up with current events?

So and so.

What’s the latest news in the world you have heard/read?

Protests against nurses in Boston? idk what it was about though since I saw it briefly while I was at work this morning.

What have you done today?

I got up at 5 am to go to work, then got home to draw a little, and now i’m spending my time doing this.

Do you sleep well?

Sometimes.

Do you sleep badly?

Most of the time.

Have you ever hurt anyone because you were hurting?

Yes.

Has anyone ever hurt you because they were hurting?

Super yes.

Have you ever had to end a friendship/relationship? Why?

Yes I had to end my relationship with my best friend when I was young, because of our parent’s disputes.

Have you ever stopped someone from hurting themselves?

Yes..

Has anyone ever stopped you from hurting yourself?

No.

Do you like your laugh?

idk.

Are you preparing for an apocalypse? And what kind?

no not really.

Do you have any funny family stories?

One time I found a garter snake in my old house’s yard and began to run around the adults carrying it. There was a lot of screaming.

Are you religious?

Not really.

Do you like to watch true crime shows or movies?

I watched a lot of CSI:Miami and Criminal Minds when I was younger :D

Are you interested in cults?

Nope.

Would you like to raise a family in your country?

Maybe.

List some things you wanted in your childhood but never got?

Confidence.

Is there a large age gap between you and a sibling?

Uhh the biggest age gap I think is my brother which is 9 years.

Are you from a blended family?

Yes!

Do you believe in marriage? Why/Why not?

I only believe in marriage if there is good communication and a good understanding of each other.

What is the nicest thing anyone has said to you?

One time, this little girl came up to the window and she said I was beautiful. I almost started to cry. (and like, my friends complimenting me that makes my day too)

Do you keep a journal?

I used to! Don’t got time for that now!

Would anyone be hurt by reading it?

I mean second hand embarassment if you read my old one.

Do you have children?

Have you been pregnant?

No!!

List your favorite movies?

The Iron Giant, Scooby Doo and The Cyberchase/Alien Invaders, The Lego Movie, idk just a lot of movies.

List your favorite people?

uhhh my friends, just. All of them? Too many to name but I love them all.

Talk about the birthmarks and scars on your body?

I have a crescent shaped scar/indention on my face because I rammed myself into a coffee table when I was young.

Do you look after yourself?

Lol no.

Do you put yourself or others first?

Ye!

Are you happy today?

Sort of.

Are you loved?

I think so?

#kiku answers #/negative #at some points #;w; thank u

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scottyunfamous · 7 years

Text

#RunningWilde Ch. 19 | Beautiful Ruins

Not about to see your light

But if you wanna find hell with me

I can show you what it's like

-Mother

Danzig

The silver Jaguar lay on its side tarnished and crumpled, the roof caved in and the wheels still spinning as if the car itself was unwilling to accept the fate that awaited it. The gas tank spouted fluids onto the tarmac, the oily consistency making iridescent rainbow colours shimmer as the puddle grew under the flashing headlights, while the alarm screamed. The steam turned to smoke.

Vince beat his fist against the deployed airbags; they were only making things worse, taking up room in the vehicle and making it harder to escape. He was lying on the side closest to the ground, while Ava's body hung unconsciously in mid-air, supported by her seatbelt. The turbulent rolling and flipping of the car had shattered all of the windows and had left tiny shards of glass embedded in her face, making her skin glitter like a Cullen in the sunlight.

Vince struggled to unlock his seatbelt to find that it was jammed. If he couldn't free himself then there was no chance that he would be able to save his daughter. All of this had come down to saving Ava and now, the moment he had her back he could lose her all over again. The thought made his already erratic heart, stop, start and slam against his ribcage and at that moment he knew that it would hurt him too much to live if she were to die. Those three days that he'd spent trying to figure out the best way to get her back had been hell, but he'd done it, he had pulled out all the stops to make sure she was safe again, so she couldn't die here, not after every law he'd broken in her name, not after all she'd been through.

He pressed two fingers against her neck and was relived to feel a pulse. "Ava, honey, can you hear me? Baby, I need you to wake up." She didn't respond. He grabbed her shoulder and shook her, desperately begging her, "Baby, please wake up." Still he got nothing.

He tugged the seatbelt but it wouldn't move so he tried to press his feet against the floor of the car hoping that if he applied enough force and turned his frame at the right angles, that he could slide himself out of it. Nothing happened. He tried again and again but it didn't feel like he was trying at all, in fact he didn't feel anything. His clear blue eyes grew to the size of whirlpools as they fell to his legs. He tried again. "No," he breathed, "No, no, no. NO!" He grabbed them, digging his fingers into his thighs eager to feel even the slightest nuance of pain, but he might as well have been grabbing someone else because the feeling would have been identical. He felt more nothing. "NAAAAOOOOOOO," he howled, slamming clenched fists against the numbed flesh.

He looked back at his daughter and his heart began to fall to pieces as the realisation that there was physically nothing more that he could do, set in. He couldn't move, she wouldn't wake up, and the pungent smell of the smoke rising out of the engine was starting to filter through the air vents in the dashboard. He ran his hand over all of the tiny black shutters that he could reach, pushing them closed to buy them a little more time. Taking in a lung full of smoke, Vince leant closer to the shattered windshield and yelled out of it as loud as he could, "HELLLLLP! SOMEBODY HELP US. PLEASE, HELP!"

The heavy sound of steel toed boots thudding against the tarmac approached the wreckage as Vince drew another toxic breath to scream. He froze. There beyond the smoke, through the broken windscreen, stood Aiden Michaels, staring him down with lawless and unforgiving black eyes. In his panic Vince had forgotten all about the other driver, but now that Aiden was there he wondered why he didn't put two and two together sooner. The impact of the crash had been too perfectly timed to be an accident.

"Michaels, you bastard!"

Aiden raised his pistol in front of him and let the first bullet fly right at the edge of the growing puddle of gasoline on the ground. The iridescent liquid rainbow tremored just before the flames consumed and blazed the trail all the way to the car. The first explosion used up the small remainder of the gas in the tank, powerful enough to make the hood fly off and slow the incessant screeching of the alarm and dim the flashing of the lights until the fire spread and both ground to a halt.

Vince more than made up for the burning silence with his desperate cries for mercy. Aiden had planned to make him burn alive, but the pitiful sounds that the kingpin was making were quickly grating on his nerves. He raised his pistol again, holding it steady with two hands as he squinted through the flames. He pulled the trigger.

Sweet silence.

Aiden watched the car burn with peaceful satisfaction. Fire rose up from beneath the bonnet and the smoke grew thicker and darker, billowing, swirling, twisting and clawing at the night sky, hiding the stars from sight. He'd warned Lockewood what would happen if he crossed him. He'd warned him that both he and his darling daughter would die at Aiden's hand should Keegan not be returned to him. Aiden was a man of his word.

And then she began to wake up.

The moment those startling autumn eyes regained their focus, they locked onto Aiden, wide with panic. There he stood, just beyond the smoke and flames, watching as the metal prison around her began to pop, and whirr, and melt as the sweltering heat reddened her skin beyond its usual rose gold glow. Ava screamed and clutched the straps that kept her suspended in mid-air afraid that with the rising temperature that they would soon melt away and drop her.

"Dad, what's happening?" She looked over to her right to see her father motionless and bleeding out from a hole between his eyes. "Oh no." Ava reached out and pressed her fingertips against his cheek. Even with the heat he felt cooler to the touch than he should, "Oh no. You're not dead. You're not dead," she whispered. Her temples started to pulsate and her throat began to close up as her vision of him blurred. Her tears splashed against the side of his face and he didn't even flinch. "Dad? Dad, wake up. Please, wake up." She shook him gently, "Please..." She knew he wouldn't 'wake up', but she couldn't bear to entertain the thought of it. It was the scariest thing in the world for Ava to acknowledge that mere moments ago he was there, and that between the time of her closing and reopening her eyes that he was gone. "Dad? ...Oh God." He was gone. They had been driving down the road and she had said the worst thing she could possibly say to him -she'd wished him dead, and now her words had been brought to life and she wished she could take them back. "Oh God, no."

The fire rose higher and the smoke surrounding the car was beginning to sear Ava's throat, snapping her out of her mourning and bringing her back to the direness of the present. She looked back out of the windshield at the stoic man with flames reflected in his empty black eyes. "Aiden!"

Aiden dug his heels into the floor and clenched his fist around the handle of his gun. Vince robbed him of much more than he could stand to lose, on this night. The only solace he had was keeping his word and returning the favour. This was for his peace of mind; the repayment for his little brother's life and the love of his life. An eye for an eye would ease the suffering to come.

He took a step back and raised his gun once more as he squinted through the flames at her. It would be a shame to see her disappear, but he would do her this kindness. He curled his finger around the trigger.

"AIDEN, NO! PLEASE!"

Her eyes looked like bonfires from where he was standing; bright and filled with the kind of wild light that had drawn him to her in the first place. His arm trembled. Aiden gritted his teeth and concentrated.

"Please, Aiden. Please don't do this."

He squeezed his eyes shut. All he had to do was pull the trigger. He tensed his finger and readied himself.

The remaining headlights on the car popped and shattered, sending a mixture of clear and coloured glass flying as the electrical circuits behind the bulb sparked glittering embers. The fire was now right up against the broken windscreen, taunting Ava with licks of amber. She howled and pressed her back as close to the back of the leather passenger seat as she could.

Aiden's hand shook harder. He'd never make the shot. Sighing, he lowered his hand, turned on his heels and walked away. It would all be over soon anyway.

"NOOOOOOO!" Ava's howling turned into spluttering as the smoke travelled directly into her airways. It was so thick that it turned her tears sooty, and soon his retreating frame would be out of sight.

She couldn't breathe.

She couldn't breathe and the world was turning as dark as his eyes.

"Why won't you save me?" she sobbed.

Aiden frowned; why would she ask that of him? Didn't she get it yet? Aiden never had any intention of saving her, he'd only ever meant to ruin her, and the only think that kept her halfway safe was gone now.

With every step he took he could hear her fragile voice crying out for him, "Save me, save me, save me," ringing in his ear. Aiden couldn't save anyone. He couldn't save his brother, he couldn't save Ash, and if he so much as attempted to save Ava, he knew that he would keep her, and that was just as bad as letting her burn, because men like Aiden shouldn't keep beautiful things...

He ran back to the car.

"Fuck!" He had to hurry. Soon the fire blossoming under the hood of the Jaguar would be too much and the real explosion would come, and if that happened then no one would make it out alive.

Aiden pulled the neckline of his t-shirt up over the lower half of his face, covering his mouth and nose to lessen the amount of smoke he was set to inhale, and moved to the underside of the vertically position vehicle. The car was sweltering, the metal almost too hot for him to bear but he'd made up his mind that he would get her out of there. He would do his best to save her. He lodged his boot on top of one of the pipes, grabbed onto another higher up, then proceeded to climb up onto the passenger side. He tried to peer through the black smoke, "Ava-Marie, I'm here," he shouted over the rumbling crackle of the flames. He could faintly make her out her shape but she didn't look good. Her body was slumped back into the position it was in when she was unconscious, mouth open, head lolling to the side and absolutely no idea of how close she was to catching fire. "Fuck," he cursed again. Now it was going to be even harder to get her out, which meant that it would take longer than Aiden intended, and with the fire rising, time was most definitely not on their side.

Aiden reached inside the broken window and flipped the lock, and then with a deep grunt he grabbed onto the handle and yanked as hard as he could on the severely dented car door. It cracked open and the smoke billowed out even faster, making his eyes sting and water profusely. With no time to undo the buckle he grabbed Ava by her arm with one hand, and then with the other he took his mora knife blade and sliced through the seatbelt straps. The moment the straps came free her body shifted downwards to where her father lay dead against the floor. Aiden quickly tucked the blade back into its sheath, grabbed her with both hands and hoisted her up.

He set her down against the backseat doors, leaving her legs dangling over the edge, before he jumped down and tugged her limp frame into his arms. "I've got you, Ava-Marie. You're going to be okay," he said sweeping her legs up so that he could carry her. He cradled her against his chest, "You're mine now."

Aiden took off as fast as he could, away from the car and down into a nearby alleyway. He ducked behind a dumpster as the night lit up with a horrific explosion of fire, metal and the remains of Vincent Lockewood. The sound thundered through the atmosphere like a warning; the head of The Syndicate was scattered across the streets of the city he once owned and now the hierarchy of the underworld was hanging in the balance. The police would be there soon, and once they figured out what happened and who it happened to, every news outlet would be on the scene to document the sudden demise of who the outside world knew to be the multi-millionaire club owner, and that would alert every major cartel that the top spot was theirs for the taking if they wanted it bad enough. No one was safe —the war Aiden wanted to avoid was coming whether he liked it or not, and once they found out that it was him who permanently removed Vince from the throne, he would be their primary target. He needed to get away from the crime scene and fast.

Aiden propped Ava up against the side of the dumpster and took her bloodied, soot covered face in his hands, "Ava-Marie, can you hear me?" The only response he got was her harsh and wheezy breathing. He pursed his lips then slapped her face, "Ava-Marie!" Ava frowned and made a groggy, groaning sound. Aiden frowned back at her. She didn't look like she would come around any time soon, and he'd rather not hit her again.

Sirens sounded in the distance and small tittering flocks of people began to gather at the scene, gasping and taking pictures and videos of the wreckage on their camera phones. Aiden slung Ava over his shoulder and quickly carried her through the alley and onto a quiet side street, pulling at the levers on the boot of every car he saw until one popped open.

He set Ava down again then ran his fingers along the inside of the trunk door until he located the emergency cord. He yanked on it and the backseat fell forward. The police sirens were getting louder. Aiden crawled in and headed straight for the driver's side. He slotted the tip of his blade into the screws on either side of the cover underneath the steering wheel and loosened them so that he could pull it away. He quickly removed the wiring harness connector then yanked out the yellow and brown wires, stripped back the insulation covers and tied them together. He crawled back out and got Ava, laid her on the floor in the back, pulled the boot shut then jumped back into driver's seat and connected the yellow and brown wires the red one. The car started perfectly. Years of practice had made Aiden a pro. He put his foot on the gas and drove away from the area, smirking at the spinning red and blue lights that bounced off of the buildings on the other side of the block as more officers arrived.

Aiden headed south and called Dougie.

He picked up on the first ring. "Aiden," he sounded relieved but not surprised.

"Meet me at the back end of Drury Lane. When you get here tell the rest of them to stay put, I want to speak to you alone. Bring the money."

Dougie took a pause then said, "Okay. We're on our way."

Aiden pulled over to the side of the road and waited in the shadows for Dougie to arrive. Soon after, the blacked out SUV rolled silent around the corner and Dougie jumped out of the front seat with the briefcase in his hand. Aiden exited the stolen vehicle and walked towards him.

"What's going on, A?" he asked, handing over the briefcase.

Aiden didn't look at his friend as he put the briefcase on the hood of the car, "Get a bag."

"Aiden_"

"Get a bag, Dougie." Dougie raised his chin but didn't say anything more. He walked back to the SUV then returned with one of Stone's duffle bags. Aiden unclipped the briefcase and began loading half of the money into the bag. "This is for you guys to do whatever you need to do with it until I get back."

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know yet." Aiden continued piling wads of cash into the bag. "Did they get Ash out?"

Dougie gritted his teeth, "Yes. She's in the other truck. They're in their way to the hospital."

"Good. Get Baby to make her funeral arrangements. How's Trish and Jamie?"

"They're fine. They're safely in the panic room."

"Tell Driver to take them to my mother's house."

"We can't have them so local."

"We can't have them so far away either. A lot of shit's about to happen so I need everyone to stay together."

"And what about you?" he frowned.

"I have to go. I need to lay low for a while."

Dougie snapped the bag shut before Aiden could put another load of cash in, forcing his friend to look at him. He looked tired; not the kind of tired that could be cured with sleep, but the kind that made him look older than he was, as if he'd aged ten years over the three days of hoping and waiting to see Keegan again. His eyes had dark circles beneath them and his jaw was tense and set in a deep frown like he would forever be disappointed at the world and was pressing his teeth together so hard to keep how he truly felt about those disappointments from slipping out before he was ready. Dougie sighed, "Aiden, I know losing Keegz is hard, but you can't just piss off by yourself. You need to be with your family and we need to be with you."

"This isn't about Keegan. I'm trying to protect you, all of you."

"And I'm trying to protect you, but I can't do that if you're not here."

"I don't want you to! I killed Vince Lockewood, Dougie. Once word gets out that he's dead it won't be hard for The Syndicate and whoever else is associated with them to figure out who did it, and they will come after me with everything they've got. I don't want to bring that down on any of you. You guys and Jamie are all I have left..." Aiden looked away and clenched his jaw, "I don't want anyone else to die because of me, so I need you to hold things down until I'm back. Now stop fucking around and open the bag."

Dougie opened the bag up and let Aiden finish loading the money inside of it. "I don't understand. These are mobsters that we're dealing with and now that Vince is gone it's open season for the top spot on the food chain; our whole team is a threat. If they're gonna come, they will come after all of us anyway, so you might as well stay."

"I told you, I can't," Aiden growled.

"Why not?"

"Because you have a better chance of survival without me. Fuck, Dougie! Have you heard a word I've said?"

"I have, and it's not making sense." Dougie narrowed his eyes, "What are you not telling me?"

Aiden kissed his teeth and snapped the briefcase closed, "Doug, I gotta go. Just do as I said." Aiden walked back to the stolen car and opened the door.

Just before he could slip away Dougie called out, "Where's the girl?" Silence hung in the air and Aiden gripped the roof of the car. "Aiden, where is she?"

He could lie and say that she had died too or that she'd escaped him and no one would be any the wiser. "Why?"

"Did you kill her?"

"No."

Dougie raised his eyebrow, "Then where is she?"

"I don't know. I let her go."

"You did what?" Dougie stormed towards the car. Aiden threw the briefcase down and walked out to meet him before he got too close. He couldn't risk him seeing Ava lying at the bottom of the car because then saving her would have been all for nothing. Dougie would shoot her on sight. "Are you fucking crazy? She's going to talk and you'll get locked up or you'll end up dead. Is that what you want?"

"I'm Aiden Michaels; when am I not at risk of getting locked up or ending up dead? Back the fuck off, all right; she's one girl and she didn't need to die."

"It's not about whether she needed to die or not it's about covering your tracks, Aiden, you know that. FUCK," he boomed. Dougie gripped his head, "I never should have let you touch her."

Aiden's eyes widened, showing more white than black and he clenched his fists, "What did you say?"

"I said I should have never let you touch her. Ash may have been a fucking head case, but she was right about that —you couldn't handle it. I should have stopped you."

"Stopped me? Stopped me?" Aiden shoved Dougie's wiry frame back. "You can't fucking stop me from doing shit," he shoved him again, "I RUN THIS. I'M THE BOSS, NOT YOU!"

Dougie threw up his hands. Aiden was clearly upset about more than what Dougie had said. He still hadn't dealt with his feelings about Keegan and Ash yet, so this was just an excuse to let some of his frustrations. "A, chill."

"No," he shoved him even harder, "Don't talk about me like there's something wrong with me."

"I never said there was. I don't give a fuck about how you like to fuck; shit, I tie bitches up too sometimes, but it clouds your judgement, and you know that. That's why you didn't get rid of Ash even after I warned you she would fuck you over, and that's why you let the girl live. It's only a matter of time before she does too."

Aiden kissed his teeth and turned back to the car, "Whatever."

"Wait! What about Keegan? We have to bury him."

Aiden stopped walking. The things that he didn't want to feel were slowly eating through his mental blocks and his heart was starting to ache around the edges. Dougie was right; he had to bury his brother and suddenly all he could think about was a closed casket full of pieces of Keegan being lowered into a whole in the ground, and a gravestone with two dates too close together to be considered a full life. He swallowed the lump forming behind his Adam's apple and sped up, as if getting away from Dougie would help him get out of his mind. "Make the arrangements and I'll be there."

"You're not gonna do it yourself? He's your brother."

Aiden jumped into the car. The ache was spreading and the dark thoughts were leaking out, "I can't Doug, I just...look get my mum to do it."

Dougie furrowed his brow, "Your mum? Aiden_"

"I'll be in contact." He slammed the door shut, sparked the wires to start the car up again and raced down the road out of sight.

Dougie got back into the SUV and handed the duffle bag to Stone. "Okay, let's head back to the compound."

"Where's Aiden going?" Mighty asked frowning at his laptop.

"He said he's laying low for a bit. I think he just needs some space."

"He can't need that much space if the Lockewood girl is with him."

Dougie spun around in his seat and looked back at Mighty, "What?"

"He pinned his tracker to her, right?"

"Yeah..." Mighty turned his laptop around so that Dougie could see the pulsating green outline of the inside of a car with a man in the front seat, and a map in the bottom right-hand corner following the route Aiden just took. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Hello, my name is Emily Watts and you are watching BBC London News.

Following the destruction of Aldwych station last Friday, police have revealed that the event may have lent itself to what appears to be a gang related incident, which journalists are now calling the Aldwych Station Massacre.

Paramedics were called once investigators were able to get inside of the historic building and found thirty-two people dead - thirty-one of them with gun wounds and one man brutally beaten to death.

Around the corner from the station, the vehicle of affluent business man, Vincent Lockewood was found. Police arrived on the scene after receiving multiple calls of from panicked onlookers. The car was burnt to a crisp with Lockewood still inside. Forensics say what was originally assumed to be a tragic accident does not actually appear to be so. During the autopsy they found a bullet identical to those found in twelve of the victims of the Aldwych Station Massacre, lodged into the front of Lockewood's skull.

There were witness reports that a black man was seen fleeing the scene with a passenger that he rescued from the wreckage, described as a young biracial woman in her early twenties. There has been no sighting of either of them since the incident.

The investigation is still ongoing and police are eager to get to the bottom of the incident. In other news..."

Max clicked the TV off and threw the remote down. He was relieved to know that Ava was still alive but the fact that Michaels had her made his temples pulsate with rage. Now that Vince was gone and his brother was dead, lord knows what he would do to her.

He was going to get her back, if it was the last thing he did.

***

There you go, now you know how to break into a car and hotwire one too. It's like info-tainment :D

So Aiden's all messed up (well more than he was before) and has fucked off with Ava, Dougie knows that Aiden lied to him about her, and Max is on a mission to get her back (it's all so very exciting!). What do you think is gonna happen next?

If you like it, pleasecomment, share and use the #RunningWilde hashtag on Twitter.

Fancy your steamy romance more visual? Watch the complete first season of my hit web series, Unfamous (as seen in Teen Vogue) click the image below:

Thank you for reading, gorgeous xx

#running wilde

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