#i live with flatmates currently. 3 of them originally but 2 now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonprincess92 · 5 years

Photo

One, two, three...

Jyn is terrible at Salsa. Cassian teaches dance for a living. Bodhi ships it.

(AKA: the Salsa AU that I am 100% going to regret posting but #yolo).

Read on AO3

Chapter 1

If she’d had her way, Jyn would be at home wrapped up in a blanket burrito with tea and three seasons of Victoria.

As it was, her feet were involuntarily tapping to the beat of the music that she couldn’t understand, too hot and too tired to even try and stop it. The Muddy Farmer was always a pulsing mass on a Friday night, a wave of heat that managed to sit low over the dance floor even if it was blowing a gale outside. She still didn’t understand why an Irish pub hosted a Latin dance night of all things, but there were stranger things in the world, she supposed.

“Come onnnnn,” Bodhi had practically whined earlier that evening, attempting to forcibly unroll her from her blanket burrito. “I need a partner to dance with!”

“You know I’m shite at Salsa and half the bloody class goes out to Muddy Farmer every week,” Jyn had argued right on back. “There will be someone you know there.”

“Look,” Bodhi had huffed. “You and I both know that as soon as Luke arrives you can go home.”

“Oh no,” Jyn had shaken her head. “You said that last time, only I was forced to stay because you were too chicken to ask him out for the tenth time!”

“It’s HARD, ok?”

“He literally told you he had a crush on you.”

“…still.”

Yes, still. She still somehow ended up here, on the edges of the crowd and watching Bodhi and Luke tear up a storm across the floor. Luke Skywalker’s perfect blond hair whipped around as he span, almost blurring as Bodhi led him through the crowd. Some heads still turned at the sight, but most of the social scene was used to the two dancing by this point, not to mention that the well known masters, Baze and Chirrut, still came out every once in a while as well. The couple had been the original ones to get Bodhi into Salsa in the first place, Jyn naturally being reluctantly dragged along behind him as the dutiful best friend/roommate.

(Sometimes life just threw you curveballs).

She took another gulp of her beer, watching the steps, turns and dips. There was everything from beginners just learning to cross-body, to seasoned veterans who could spin no less than five times in a row. She could barely hear herself think over the live music, it thumping and rattling in her eardrums. The scent of greasy pub food hit her as the guy next to her at the bar ordered a basket of chips and she debated the merits of getting some herself versus just going home. She’d been here long enough now that she could probably get away with it, and Bodhi barely noticed anything when he was dancing.

Though the chips really did smell good…

In the end, the decision was made for her when someone accidentally stepped too close and shoved into another dancer. Chips went flying as they stumbled right into Chip Guy, nearly throwing him off his stool. Jyn debated the morality of eating the chip that had landed on her chest for a hot second or two, before deciding to go with the conscience and toss it aside so that she could offer to help him up.

“I’m so sorry!” the dancers exclaimed several times over.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Chip Guy insisted, somehow taking the battering with a smile. “Not the first time I’ve been danced into.”

“You all right, mate?” Jyn asked him.

He glanced over at her as the dancers went back to their partners. “I’m fine,” he insisted once more. “although I might need some help eating these now, my friend is weird about eating things off the floor.”

“Just don’t tell him, who has to know?”

He thankfully laughed a little, offering the basket up to her. Figuring it would be rude not to take one at this point, she quickly shoved a chip into her mouth, suddenly wishing that she’d actually made an effort to look decent that night, rather than stubbornly remain in her dirty jeans and t-shirt combo. The guy looked vaguely familiar, which was confirmed when he then asked her,

“I think I’ve seen you around, what’s your name again?”

“Jyn,” she said around her chips. “I’ve seen you too, I’m pretty sure.”

“I’m Cassian,” he replied. “Sorry if I’ve told you before, I’m pretty bad with names and there’s a lot of people–”

“Oh god, don’t even worry about it,” Jyn insisted. “You don’t need a name to dance so I forget everyone pretty much as soon as they introduce themselves.”

He smiled in solidarity. “I know a lot of faces, and I know a lot of names, but I’m at the point where I don’t know which name goes with which face.”

“That’s exactly it.”

“You don’t come out often, right?”

“Nah, only when the flatmate drags me,” Jyn gestured across the dance floor. “Do you know Bodhi?”

“Oh, THAT’S Bodhi!” Cassian said, face lighting up in recognition. “I’ve actually spoken to him several times! Good guy, although I had no idea what his name was until now.”

Jyn found herself wanting to laugh a little, which was clearly the strangest sensation she could ever feel on a Friday night when she should be at home alone with her historical dramas. She certainly knew of Cassian before now, even if she hadn’t ever properly spoken to him before. He was apparently from Mexico, he was pretty damn cute and he was insanely good at Salsa. She had danced with him a couple times as they’d all switched partners during the classes that Bodhi had forced her to do with him, and she could remember the way he had shaken her hands, claiming that she was way too tense, and how he had taught her how to switch the tension to her arms so that her frame stayed locked and easy to lead. He had been easy to chat to and easily her favourite to dance with…

But the thing with favourites is that she wasn’t the only one. Cassian insisted on her continuing to help him eat the contaminated chips and she noticed the eyes from across the pub, people wondering and craning heads, trying to figure out who she was and why she was the one who got to sit and eat with Cassian the Infamously Amazing Dancer. She tried to focus on what she was saying, answering her question of what she did as a job, instead of acknowledging Bodhi who was practically hollering at Luke at the sight.

“It’s not that interesting,” she tore her eyes away. “but I’ve got good work colleagues so it’s not too bad.”

“Are you kidding? It’s so cool you work in a police station!”

“Admin doesn’t solve murders, remember?” she said.

“Still,” Cassian pointed out. “You’re Gina from Brooklyn Nine-Nine.”

Jyn nearly choked on her chip.

“I don’t – I don’t think I’m quite like Gina,” she coughed. “Although to be fair, she is an inspiration to all.”

“I love that show.”

“Me too,” Damn it, she was smiling too much. Their basket of chips was nearly empty now as she asked, “So what’s your job?”

“I teach dance.”

“Never would have guessed that,” Jyn said, dryly.

Cassian laughed (god, he was cute when he laughed). “Not just Salsa, other styles too,” he added. “I actually mostly teach kids classes, although sometimes I help out with the adult ones if there’s an instructor away or an uneven amount of people or something.”

“I bet there are kids even better at dancing than I am.”

“There are some kids better than me,” Cassian pointed out. “Still… I think we demolished these chips, by the way.”

She glanced down at them. “Oh, definitely. Your friend won’t be pissed we ate them all?”

“He’ll be pissed, he’ll get over it. Want to dance?”

“Oh–” Fucking shit. He was holding out his hand and jumping down from his bar stool and suddenly she wished she hadn’t eaten quite so much. “but we just ate–”

“We’ll burn off the calories.”

“I’m honestly shit at Salsa, like I could barely keep up with the beginners class–”

“If I do my job and lead you properly, then you’ll be fine I promise.”

Jyn reluctantly slid off her stool. “And if you fuck up?”

Cassian smiled.

“I’ll buy you a drink to go with the chips.”

She… couldn’t argue that.

So despite her better judgement, she ended up taking his hand and following him to a relatively spare space within the dance floor. She hoped to god that Bodhi wasn’t still witnessing this because she would no doubt never hear the end of it, although it was kind of the least of her worries. There were too many things cycling through her head to pay attention to much else. She prayed that she didn’t fuck up her ankles in these heels, she hoped that no one accidentally stood on her or that she didn’t crash into anyone. Hell, she begged to all the primordial forces out there that she didn’t just fuck up in general.

At least the basic step she could do.

Cassian held her hands as she concentrated on getting the beat right – 1-2-3, 5,6,7 – and she could feel the sweat starting to gather at her hairline already. She practically held her breath during the first turn and he shook his head once she was back facing him once more.

“I can practically feel the anxiety coming off you,” he pointed out.

It was always hard to talk on the dance floor, what with the cacophony of the live band, people talking, glasses clinking and bar stools scraping. However, Cassian had made the effort to yell over it all and so she felt compelled to reply.

“That is a skill I am proud of, I’ll have you know,” she yelled back.

He just snorted. Instead of stepping forward he stepped back on the next bar, moving them through an open break turn and not even pausing before swapping their hands and leading her through a cross-body turn. “See?” he pointed out once she had thankfully not keeled over. “It comes naturally, you can do it!”

Ok, maybe a part of her knew it.

She knew she wasn’t absolutely completely fucking terrible, as she was determined to make it seem. She wasn't great either, but after a few of the beginners classes she had found herself picking up the rhythm. She struggled with anything fast, but eventually learned how to make her steps smaller and tighter. She wasn't bad…it was just hard to not compare herself when she was fully aware of the fact that she was currently partnered with an actual goddamn dance teacher. He moved into a close hold, hand curving up to rest between her shoulder blades as he swept her around and she tried to ignore the heartbeat currently slamming in her throat. This was supposed to be fun. She was supposed to be swept up into the music, uncaring of those around her, just moving and feeling. She could be fun, goddamn it! She supposed the tension in her arms was good at least for something as he continued to lead her this way and then that, changing the line depending on the crowd. With so many people, it was impossible to not stand on someone occasionally. She ended up half gasping, half laughing when Cassian lead her in a cross-body turn and she ended up slamming right into someone she recognised from Bodhi’s dance classes.

“Oh, shit!” she mouthed to Cassian once the initial apologies were over.

“You ok?”

“I am,” she answered. “I don’t think my shoes are. Shit, do I actually have a dent in it?”

They took a moment to pause and glance down at where the other woman had literally stomped down on the back of her heel. Sure enough, running her fingers over the dance shoes that she had bought second hand online she could feel a dip. She grabbed his hand without thinking to ensure that he could feel it too, and she gripped his arm to keep her balance as she stood up on one foot.

“You have battle wounds now,” he teased.

“I guess so–”

She hastily cut herself off as the latest song apparently finished and her yelling was suddenly much louder as the music faded. The crowd cheered and they both clapped politely, several people leaving the dance floor, others coming to join. It was a mass of movement and Jyn hovered awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what she was supposed to do now. Etiquette said that they should thank each other for the dance before going and finding someone else, but some weird part of her knew a fucking vibe when it saw it, and wasn’t denying that it wanted to stay. For a wild moment it looked like he wanted to stay too, but unfortunately the next song that was strung up sounded off, and it took her several moments to click.

“Oh,” she screwed up her face. “this isn’t Salsa anymore, is it?”

“No, this is Bachata,” Cassian nodded.

“Christ,” she sighed. “I don’t know how to Bachata at all.”

“Do you know the basic step?”

Jyn cringed at the memory of the one Bachata dance she had attempted, the last time she had been dragged out social dancing alongside Bodhi. Thank god it had been with him. If it had been with anyone else she might have died of mortification, but remembering how she had awkwardly attempted to move her hips the right way made her want to throw up a little.

“It’s 1-2-3-hip or something, right? Or is it a tap, I can’t remember–”

“It just depends on which style you’re using, but honestly,” Cassian shrugged, tugging on her hands once more. “Just move your body, and you’ll be great.”

He started moving then as if to prove his point in the basic side to side motion that Jyn had to actively think about in order not to mess up. All around them, couples were already pressing up against each other’s bodies, rolling and grinding. Jyn was pretty sure that wasn’t the traditional Bachata, but then again much of her internal meltdown was probably because she was certain her hips just simply didn’t not move that way. She didn’t even realise how much she was glancing around anxiously until she caught Bodhi’s eye only several couples away. Now dancing with a girl that she recognised from classes with long brown braids, he mouthed at her in astonishment,

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

“I DON’T KNOW.”

“THAT’S CASSIAN!”

Thanks, mate. She had no idea.

She was pulled away from the non-verbal conversation when Cassian lead her into what was probably one of the most simplest turns she’d ever had to do and yet she still somehow managed to botch it. Stepping with the wrong foot, she ended up on the wrong timing and exclaimed in frustration,

“Sorry! I told you I don’t know what I’m doing!”

He stopped them. For a moment her heart pounded, sure he was about to politely call it quits and send her packing across the dance floor so that he could sweep up some other woman into his arms… except instead, he steadied her with his hands sliding down to her hips.

“You think you’re terrible, fine,” he started to grin. “Crash course in Bachata.”

He started counting. His hands moved her hips with the beat of the song and shit, if she had blood, it was currently rushing to her face. Was anyone watching this? Another quick glance around however showed her that Bodhi had apparently already moved on and was now totally absorbed in having fun dancing with his friend and that literally no one else gave a shit. While a little disappointing to know no one cared, it was also admittedly… liberating to know that she could thrust her hips as awkwardly as she liked and no one would make fun of her for it. It took a while, but soon they were adding in the footwork and then her hands were being picked up again, the two of them finally having found their rhythm.

“That’s it!” he said, happily.

She wasn’t quite sure how the knot in her throat managed to dissipate (and to be honest, she didn’t think it was going to entirely go away) but she did feel a hell of a lot better than when she had first stepped out onto the dance floor, and that said something. This time when Cassian led her in a turn, her feet automatically kept up the rhythm and she found herself with her back to him, arms crossed in front of her as he kept a hold of her hands. 1-2-3-tap, 1-2-3-tap…

It was slower than Salsa, which helped, not to mention less spinning like a top and more turning within his arms. When she was eventually brought back around to face him, he span himself before moving in and bringing her into a close hold. Jesus Christ. This close, their legs overlapped to avoid their knees banging into each other, and it may or may not have been causing a slight heart attack, she still wasn’t sure. They moved in a 360, around and around until she was let go and allowed to breathe again.

Maybe it was her mind just wrecking havoc inside her, but it almost felt lighter inside the pub now. She supposed it was the atmosphere of connecting with the person in front of you and tuning out the rest, or at least it was certainly hard to concentrate on anything else. She could imagine that drink Cassian had promised her, imagine that they danced together every weekend, that his hands sliding against her hips were familiar to her and that the chest she was pressed against was always warm and solid. She felt like she could let go and just fucking dance, and she wondered whether maybe he could feel it too. She was pulled into his body once more, his arms lifting hers up before his fingertips traced back down her sides. She slung her arms around his neck, her body settled firmly on his thigh. After a moment he bent her back so that she swung around, Jyn letting her head tilt back so that she could see the ceiling of the pub and the ends of her hair brushed against his arms. Pulled back up, she smiled into his shoulder.

He must have recognised the song enough to know when the end was coming. After feeling his leg sliding between hers, after swinging her hips in time with his, he eventually turned her around and with her back pressed to this chest, brought each of her arms up and over his head. Leaning to the side to see her, Jyn realised that he had ended their dance with perfect timing, left standing with their noses inches from each other, hands still clutched in his behind his head as they struggled to breathe. Jyn might have ignored all the polite claps and cheers for the band, might have even had the guts to say a giant fuck it in her head before closing the distance between them –

– when suddenly, her phone started buzzing in her pocket.

“Oh – shit, I’m sorry–” She pulled away and he hastily snatched back his hands, taking a step back. One glance at the caller made her stomach sink. “Fuck – I have to answer this – but thank you for the dance and the chips, it was really good! The dance, I mean, the chips too but the dance was – fuckity fuck–”

She made for the exit before she could glance back and see what was no doubt utter bemusement left on Cassian’s face. She hit answer on the way, finally speaking once she was outside the pub and out on the cold city street.

“Hey, Papa,” she said, wrapping her spare arm around her like it could retain the heat of the dance floor. “what’s up?”

“Jyn! My darling daughter–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Despite her slight disappointment, she smiled a little at hearing her father’s voice. She also heard rustling and clicking, along with Galen cursing under his breath every now and then.

“You aren’t busy, are you?” he asked. “I know it's kind of late, I can call back later or tomorrow even–”

“Nah, it’s fine, I’m just out with Bodhi,” Jyn immediately said. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m grand – got the new T.V. finally!”

“The T.V. you’ve been meaning to buy ever since it went on sale two months ago, you mean?” Jyn teased.

“Har, har, you know how I am with crowds,” her dad scoffed. “I’m just trying to connect it now, but turns out it’s harder than I thought. There’s so many damn cords and – shite – I’m no good at this sort of thing at all! Technology was all your mother’s territory–”

She just knew what it must be like, her dad sat in the middle of a pile of cables, pretending to be ok with the fact that he didn’t have a wife to help him with this kind of thing anymore. He had been doing reasonably ok since the funeral – or rather as ok as anyone would have expected him to be – but he still called every day and there were still moments Jyn knew he was really only calling because he needed to have her near, rather than because he actually needed her help. She closed her eyes a moment, making the decision before her mind could consciously think about it.

“You’re terrible, Papa. Need me to come help?”

“You wouldn’t help an old man, would you?”

“I’ll be there soon,” she told him.

She hung up quickly so that she could give Bodhi a call to explain. He eventually picked up in the bathroom, still not entirely quiet, but at least able to hear what he was saying. “I gotta go help my dad,” she explained. “You all right if I leave?”

“I’m totally fine – are you, though?”

“Oh, you know,” she let out a long breath. “I think I might have to take up Bachata lessons again, mate.”

“I fucking saw you dancing with Cassian, SHIT, Jyn!” She could just imagine Bodhi practically hopping up and down in glee.

She smiled despite herself.

“Shit sounds about right.”

#rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fanfic #dailyrebelcaptain #therebelcaptainnetwork #rogue one #rogue one fanfic #ro fanfic #my fanfiction #the salsa au #that yall all know exactly what it is based off #DON'T JUDGE ME #i hope you all like it!!!#pls reblog me 😄

73 notes · View notes

uglypastels · 6 years

Text

When You Say Nothing At All - Tom Holland movie AU (1/3)

(a/n) First story on the new blog!! I’m scared.

This story is a Notting Hill AU. I have always loved this movie and when I recently rewatched it, I really realized how cheezy and pretty fanfic-y the plot it...so I decided to actually write a fanfic. The story is in a movie-turned-into-book format, so it is literally inspired by the movie. So, I do not own, nor claim any of this story as my own. Already putting it out there.

Alrighty then, here is part 1. I am not sure if I will actually post the other parts, because I’m not so sure if this is really that good. I also haven’t exactly finished the rest and it takes a loooooong time to do so. Tell me if you want to read the rest.

This is a re-post, because I am an idiot with anxiety and deleted the first one accidentally

word count: 10,281

warning: swearing, sexual themes, SPOILERS for NOTTING HILL

part 2

Tom’s POV - 1999 - London - Characters are in their late 20′s

Of course, I have seen her films and always thought she was, well, gorgeous, but, you know, a million and million miles from the world I live in.

The world he lives in, which was here, Notting Hill. His favorite part of London.

Just as he did every day before going to work, Tom took a morning walk to enjoy the bizarre atmosphere that this region had. Like any other weekday, the market was spinning with people, where every fruit and vegetable known to man was sold and men were yelling: “Rock hard bananas, five for a pound!” To his right was the tattoo parlor, where a man stepped through the door, looking rather confused at the new addition to his body. He looked as if he had just woken up on the couch that was inside and Tom wondered if he remembered why he had gotten “I love Ken” tattooed on his arm. He also wondered who Ken was and if he knew that his name was now permanently written on this blokes’ arm. Opposite the tattoo shop was the radical hairdressers, where everyone came out looking like the Cookie Monster, whether they wanted to or not. Just like the poor girl in the purple denim jacket.

Even though it was early in the morning, there were people everywhere. Tom was glad it wasn’t the weekend where from the break of day hundreds of stalls appear out of nowhere, filling Portobello Road, right up to Notting Hill Gate and wherever you look thousands of people are buying millions of antiques, some genuine, and some not quite so genuine.

Lots of friends have ended up in this part of London. For example Tony, who Tom could see talking to some delivery men, a bundle of fish in his hands. Tony looked rather happy with his new buy. Tom waved at him, hello, but his friend didn’t see it. The architect turned chef had been busy for months with his new restaurant, which he invested in with all the money he ever earned.

That was pretty much all of Notting Hill, where Tom spend his days and years. In the small village in the middle of the city, in a house with a blue door that he had bought together with his wife who had left him after four years for a man who looked exactly like Harrison Ford. Which was ironic, because this was where he now lead a strange half-life with a lodger called:

“Harrison!” he yelled as he opened the blue door and almost immediately fell over a bike. Harrison ran down the stairs into the kitchen which was at the end of the corridor in which Tom stood right now. As usual, he wasn’t wearing anything but some khaki colored underwear. He didn’t want to think about if that was the original color.

“You couldn’t help me with an incredibly important decision, could you?” he said in his thick accent.

“Is this important in comparison to, let’s say…” Tom started thinking as he walked to the kitchen to put down the loaf of bread that he had bought earlier. “Whether they should cancel Third World debt?”

“That’s right. I’m at last going out on a date with the great Janine and I just wanna be sure I’ve picked the right T-shirt.” He started explaining. Tom was turned with his back to him and couldn’t help but smile at the difference in their priorities.

“What are the choices?”

“Well, wait for it,” he said and ran back upstairs to his room. Tom waited as he put the bread in the toaster, taking his time. By the time he was done and in front of the stairs, Harrison was already running back down, pulling down the shirt. It was a slightly too big white t-shirt. It would have been fine if it wasn’t for the huge text that said: “I LOVE BLOOD” and the actual sticking out fish head in the middle of his torso in the pool of red.

“First, there’s this one,” He flicked the fish head, making it bounce back and forth, and made a little growl, “Cool, huh?” Tom stared at the shirt for a little bit, trying to figure out the right words to say to his flatmate. “Yeah, it might make it hard to strike a really romantic note,” he suggested.

“Point taken. Don’t despair.” Harrison ran back up the stairs, still talking: “if it’s romance we’re looking for, I believe I have just the thing.” Tom highly doubted it. He looked for some yogurt in the fridge while waiting for Harrison to get back.

He came back, with a now much tighter fitted shirt. The message was very simple: “GET IT HERE” together with a big black arrow pointed at his crotch.

“Yeah, well, there again, she might not think you had true love on your mind.”

“Right.” He seemed to understand but clearly didn’t have the same feeling about it as Tom did. “Just one more.” He ran away once again. Tom smiled to himself and walked back to the kitchen, grabbed something extra for his yogurt and then heard it was time again to take those three steps back to the stairs: “True love, here I come.” Harrison sang happily. Tom watched him run down those stairs for the tenth time and pulling down, another, white shirt over his upper body. Tom put a hand over his mouth at the sight of it. It was better than the last two options. Still not good, but better. The words “You’re the most beautiful woman in the WORLD” were surrounded by big red hearts. Harrison looked at him, awaiting an answer.

“Well, yeah. Yeah. that’s, that’s perfect.” he managed to say without laughing.

“Great. Thanks. Wish me luck.” Haz still looked at him waiting.

“Good luck.” He walked back upstairs with big steps of pride. When he had turned around Tom could see the message written on his back. “FANCY A FUCK?” He wanted to say something but thought better of it. He had to get to work.

It was just another hopeless Wednesday, as he walked a thousand yards through the market to work. Work, by the way, was the little travel bookshop “The Travel Book Co.” which, well, sold travel books and to be frank, didn’t always sell many of those.

The store, just like the door of his house, was blue. The big window displayed a number of books that were for sale and two globes, in case it wasn’t clear to anyone that it was travel books that they could find here. In front of the window, outside, stood a small table on which more books were displayed.

“Morning, Martin” the small bell above the door rang as he pushed it open. The smell of old books was immediately present.

“Morning, Monseigneur,” said Martin as he was looking through some papers. He handed Tom the post and bills of the day. He knew what awaited them next. It was time to count up the sales. He walked up to the desk and pulled out the rest of the papers and a calculator. He dreaded this part of the day, that is why he had early on decided with Martin to do it in the morning. This way it would be over quickly, at least.

“Classic,” he sighed as the last numbers popped up on the small screen. “Profit from major sales push, minus £347.” He shared a look of disappointment with Martin and then wrote the sad number down in the notebook in front of him.

“Shall I go and get you a cappuccino?” Martin suggested. “You know, ease the pain a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah. Better make it a half. All I can afford.” his friend and employee laughed awkwardly. He just smiled, both of them were trying to ease the pain currently with some horrible humor.

“Get your logic. Demi-cappu coming right up.” He glanced at Tom and then walked to the door. The bell rang again as he pulled the door towards him. His green cardigan disappearing behind the corner as he walked to the small coffee house a few doors away. Tom wondered what he had done to deserve him in his life. Such a good person. Martin could easily find another job, a better job, but he didn’t want to leave his friend.

The moment he left, someone walked in. Tom barely glanced. The only thing he saw was a blur of black and white. The person carefully closed the door behind them. He looked again, feeling something familiar about them as he looked more properly. He couldn’t exactly place it, but it felt like he had seen the stranger before. Maybe she had visited the store earlier this week? Or the week before?

She was wearing a black, leather jacket over a plain white shirt. On her head, a black hat, with brown hair under it, and her eyes were covered by dark glasses. She walked over to the first bookcase and started to look around, every now and then pulling out a book and paging through it. From the position Tom was in, he could only see her shoulder properly, moving as she placed a book back in its original place.

“Uhm, can I help you at all?” he asked. The woman peaked out her head from behind the shelves, looking a bit startled. At least he assumed so, as her eyes weren’t visible through the glasses.

“No, thanks, I’ll just look around.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. The American accent clear. He knew that this was a bookstore and people often tried to be quiet. But there was literally nobody else there except for them.

“Fine,” he said a bit dazed off. He still couldn’t place that face or that voice for that matter. He was sure he had at least heard her before but much louder. Not in the bookstore, then. She walked to the other side of the shelf, facing away from him. Now he could have a little more proper look at her… or at least her back. Her shoulders were small, in a cute way. Her jacket oversized. From the way the top of her head reached a certain height of the shelves, he could assume that she wasn’t much shorter than him. He could also see a bag hanging off of her other shoulder. As she was looking through the books, she momentarily put her shopping bags on the ground.

She pulled out a book from the shelf, Tom could read the title, the Turkish Delights, from where he was standing behind the desk. He had a great urge to say something to her, only he didn’t know what. As he looked at her go through the book, he blurted out: “That book’s really not great.” She turned her head in his direction. “Er - just in case browsing turned to buying, you’d be wasting your money.” he laughed nervously as he was clearly rambling on. She just smiled weakly. Letting him dig himself deeper into embarrassment. “But if it’s Turkey you’re interested in, this one,” Tom picked up a copy of a book that lay next to him on the desk, “on the other hand, is very good. Uhm...” he had no idea what to say, but she kept looking at him and he felt the need to keep talking. Her stare was getting a bit too much for him so he looked down at the book. “I think the man who wrote it has actually been to Turkey, which helps. Uhm, there’s also a very amusing incident with a kebab… which is one of many amusing incidents.”

The beautiful stranger (because she was definitely beautiful, there was no denying that) smiled and said: “Thanks, I’ll think about it.” She already looked away, putting her attention back to the book she was holding, but his tongue slipped up again and the rambling continued.

“Or, in the bigger hard-back variety, there’s…” He looked at the bookcase behind him. While he did, his eyes slipped down to the small tv screen next to it, where he could see a man putting a book down his trousers. “I’m sorry, can you just give me a second?” He put the book down and walked to the back corner of the store, that was separated by a wall and slightly bigger shelves.

“Excuse me,” he said. The man popped up from behind the books. His eyes were wide, his hair all over the place and the shirt untucked messily. “Yes?” he asked.

“Bad news.” Tom crossed his arms and looked at him.

“What?” The man looked very confused and startled. Tom pointed at the corner of the ceiling. “Er -We’ve got uhm, a security camera in this bit of the shop.” The man still didn’t seem to understand as he asked: “So?”

“So, I saw you put that book down your trousers.”

“What book?” He was changing his weight from one leg to the other, making it even more obvious that he was anxious. Tom sighed, pointing at his crotch and saying: “The one down your trousers.”

“I don’t have a book down my trousers.” His words were slightly slurred, making Tom worried that he could be drunk or high. He looked away from him in frustration.

“Right, I tell you what, uhm, I’ll call the police and uhm, what can I say, if I’m wrong about the whole book-down-the-trousers scenario, I really apologize.” Tom was not sure if it had been possible, but the stranger’ eyes widened even more.

“Okay. What if I did have a book down my trousers?” Tom couldn’t believe this guy. Was he so drunk, or actually just that big of a moron?

“Well, ideally, when I went back to the desk you’d remove the Cadogan Guide to Bali from your trousers and either wipe it and put it back, or buy it.” He smiled at the drunk idiot. “I’ll see you in a sec.” he left him back there and walked back to the desk. The girl in the leather jacket was now standing there too. Tom had heard footsteps so he already expected it. “I’m sorry about that.” he walked behind the small piece of furniture. She was looking down at her book.

“No, it’s fine. I was gonna steal one but now I’ve changed my mind.” She smiled and Tom couldn’t help but laugh slightly. He glanced back at the tv screen to check up on the weirdo.

“Oh, signed by the author, I see.” she glanced at the front pages of the book. It made him look up from the screen.

“Uhmm, yeah, couldn’t stop him. If you can find an unsigned one, it’s worth an absolute fortune.” She puffed out a laugh. Right then the man from the back of the shop walked up. Tom was about to send him off when he approached his other customer. “Excuse me.”

“Yes?” she looked a bit uncomfortable at him.

“Can I have your autograph?” he handed her a piece of paper. The girl looked unsure at him and then around for something to write with. Tom gave her the pen he had in your hand: “Here.”

“What’s your name?” She asked. Her tone was very monotone and he knew that, really, she didn’t want to do it.

“Rufus.” He rolled on the back of his feet like a child, scratching his patchy beard. Tom watched the girl in the leather jacket scribble down a few words on the paper. It took him some time to figure out the words as he had been looking at it from upside down, but once he had it, he let out a little snort. She handed the paper back to Rufus. He, apparently, still couldn’t read it because he asked: “What does it say?”

“That’s my signature, and above it,” she pointed at the top of the old paper, “it says, Dear Rufus, you belong in jail.” Rufus clearly didn’t seem to get it because he smiled and said: “Good one.” The girl gave him a smile that was the equivalent of an eye roll and turned to you. Rufus asked again: “Do you want my phone number?”

“Tempting, but no.” there was a silence. Rufus started walking away. Tom just stood there, trying to comprehend what had just happened. This girl was famous, he knew that. He had seen her before somewhere, but where?

“I will take this one.” she pushed the book a bit towards him and that got Tom out of his frozen state.

“Oh, right, right.” He opened the book to check the price, “So, well, on second thoughts maybe it’s not that bad after all.” He ticked in the numbers into the machine, the paper started printing. “Actually, it’s sort of a classic, really. None of those childish kebab stories you find in so many books these days.” He tried to joke. It didn’t work as she handed him a banknote without a reaction except for a polite smile. It was more than the prize, so he started to look for the correct coins to give as change.

“You know what, I’ll throw in one of these for free.” He showed her a book that just happened to lay nearby. He wished he could sink underground, or at least that she would say something back. Still, he couldn’t manage to close his own mouth: “Useful for, you know, lighting fires, wrapping fish, that sort of thing.” She finally managed to break out a smile. He packed the two books in the basic orange-brown bag and handed it back to her.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Pleasure,” he replied. Both of them smiled politely and she started to walk away. Soon that bell rang again and she was gone. Tom was alone in the store. The confusion now spread over his features. Who was she? Why did she feel so familiar? Should he have asked her for a signature too?

His legs moved him towards the table in the big space at the front of the shop. He wasn’t sure why he walked there. Maybe to get another glimpse of her? But by the time he got to the window, she was already gone. There was another movement on the street, though. The green cardigan and brown tie flopped around Martin as he walked back. Two cups of coffee balanced on top of each other in one hand as he tried to open the door with the other.

“Here we are. Cappuccino, as ordered.” he put one cup in front of Tom, who still looked out the window in a daydreaming kind of way. Only he wasn’t daydreaming. He knew that the girl was actually real. Only, who was she?

“Thanks,” Tom said as he watched the other man sip from his hot drink. Still, the thought of the girl was in his mind. Was it her? But what would she be doing in Notting Hill? Still, it couldn’t be... “I don’t think you’ll believe who was just in here.” Martin looked up from his cup, eyes full of excitement, but the excitement that could also be anxiety.

“Who?” His head shot towards the window and then back. “Was it someone famous?” Now that Martin had said it out loud, the idea seemed too crazy to be real.

“No, no, no,” Tom changed his mind.

“Would be exciting though, wouldn’t it, if someone famous came into the shop?” He was about to put the cup back up to his lips when another sentence formed: “Do you know, this is - this is pretty amazing, but I once saw Ringo Starr.”

“Where was that?” Tom asked curiously.

“Kensington High Street.” there was a scratch in his excitement. ‘At least I think it was Ringo. It might have been that man from Fiddler On The Roof. You know, Toppy.” He scratched his nose.

“Top-ol,” Tom corrected his friend. The story seemed more and more unlikely to have happened, but it was still rather enjoyable to listen.

“Yes, that’s right. Topol.” Martin drank some more of his coffee. The small amount of it was already mostly gone as he had to work for it to get into his mouth, Tom started thinking.

“Actually, Ringo Starr doesn’t look at all like Topol.”

“Yeah, but he was quite a long way away from me.”

“So actually it could’ve been neither of them,” Tom suggested. There was a silence.

“Yes, I suppose so, yes.” Another silence between the two men.

“It’s not a classical anecdote, is it?”

“Not a classic, no. No.” They both agreed on it and once again, another silence fell as they both sipped from their incredibly small coffees. It was gone in less than two sips.

“Another one?” Tom asked once they were both finished. Martin sighed deeply, looking down at his paper cup. Then, a spark lit up in him as he changed his mind: “No! Let’s go crazy. I’ll have an orange juice.”

As Martin was the one who had gotten the coffee the first time, it was only right if Tom bought the juice now. He stepped outside and started walking right. Behind him, there were two men trying to lift up a big painting that would be sold in the new Panton Gallery that would open soon opposite of the bookshop.

Once in the small coffee shop, which was really a sandwich shop, Tom ordered the orange juice and a something more for a second breakfast. He hadn’t gotten to eat as much as he had liked since Harrison kept on nagging about his upcoming date with Janine. While he waited for his order, he looked around at the already well-known to him purple walls and the new advertisements that were stuck to the notice board. There didn’t seem to be anything interesting.

“Okay, thanks. Bye-bye.” The clerk gave him his drink and sandwich.

“See you later,” Tom said and made his way back outside. It was crowded in the sandwich shop, with people sitting at all the tables, of which a few barely fit in the space by itself already. Outside, there were also some people sitting and enjoying their food and drinks.

The sun hit Tom in the eyes as he got out. He followed the collection of small trees that stood in front of the unused garages all the way to the corner of the street. The sun was even brighter, making Tom look away.

Suddenly he felt something solid against him, scaring him a bit and spilling the orange juice in his hand everywhere, including on himself and the girl he had just bumped into. They both exclaimed in shock. The girl, unfortunately, had caught most of the blow of the cold beverage. Her white shirt now mostly bright orange.

“Shit! Bugger!” Tom threw the cup and his forgotten sandwich on the floor.

“Oh my god!” The girl from the bookshop was still in shock from the sudden cold that hit her in the chest.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He repeated himself. He had a tissue in his pocket and took it out to wipe off the possible. “Here let me…”

“Get your hands off!’ She shrieked. There was a little laugh hidden in there. Tom understood that the move wasn’t very appropriate. He could see a few people around them give him a few strange looks.

“I’m really sorry. I… live just over the street.” He pointed out front of himself, in the general direction of his house. The girl was trying to get any juice she could, off of herself and her bags. “I uhm, have water and soap. You can get cleaned up.” She didn’t seem to be very enthusiastic about the idea.

“No thank you. I just need to get my car back.” She shook off some last drops from her hands and started to walk away, looking around for (probably) her car. Annoyance was very clear in her tone.

“I also have a phone. I’m confident that in five minutes we can have you spick and span and back on the street again.” He realized quickly how that sounded. The girl had turned around to look at him. “In the non-prostitute sense, obviously.” She was still mad and didn’t want to laugh, but when she had turned her head away, he could see the corner of her lips go up just a little. She brushed off some hair that had stuck to her cheek.

“All right,” She gave in, but not completely yet, “Well, what do you mean “just over the street”? Give it to me in yards.” Tom wasn’t sure how many yards exactly it would be to his blue door, but he gave it a shot: “Uhm, eighteen yards. That’s my house there with the blue front door.” He pointed again to his door The girl turned around to look for herself. She looked very hesitant but agreed to it in the end. Probably because the now sticky shirt was getting uncomfortable.

They walked in silence to his house. Tom prayed that Harrison had cleaned up at least a bit before he left to go see Janine. That was not the case.

“Come on in. I’ll just, I’ll just…” he ran in front of her into the corridor to clean up as much as he could before she could see the mess that the house actually was. There were old pizza boxes everywhere, shoes lying around in the middle of the floor. On the table lay plates from yesterday's breakfast. He didn’t know where to put them as the sink had been full for over four days already.

“Uhm, right. Right.” The girl was still at the door. “Come in. It’s not quite as tidy as it normally is, I fear.” He hoped she would believe him. “But the bathroom’s on the top floor. And the telephone’s just up here.” he showed her up the stairs and behind the wall. Even with a gigantic orange stain on her shirt, she still looked very well put together. She looked down at her bags, not sure what to do with them.

“Here, let me…” he took them from her and put them next to the stairs. She slowly walked up, not sure where to go next.

“Round the corner, straight on - straight on up.” She disappeared on the second part of the staircase. The time she was gone, Tom took to tidy up a bit more. He cursed Harrison for leaving it such a mess. He had clearly left him a message to clean up this morning. He started to gather around plates and cups and threw them next to the sink. There stood an old pan of baked beans too, he tried to throw it out, but the beans had gotten cold and hard and wouldn’t budge from their container.

He was about done swiping clean the table when he heard footsteps upstairs. He looked up. The girl looked stunning. She had exchanged her simple black pants - white shirt combo with a two-piece black sparkling ensemble… was he using that word correctly, he didn’t know for sure. The crop top and knee-length skirt showed her midriff perfectly. She was still wearing her oversized leather jacket and her beret and glasses were now gone. Tom could finally see her face properly. He couldn’t believe it. It was actually her!

They shared an awkward smile and Tom felt again the need to say something: “Er -” She let out a small sigh, looking a bit annoyed. It threw him off a bit. “Would you like a cup of tea before you go?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Coffee?”

“No.”

“Orange juice?” She gave him one of those are-you-kidding-me looks. “Probably not.” He felt like he owed her something. “Uhm, something else cold?” He went over to the fridge to look inside. She was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Coke? Water?” He looked around some more. There wasn’t much else in the fridge that he could give her. “Some disgusting sugary drink pretending to have something to do with fruits of the forest?”

“No,” her voice came out as a whisper.

“Would you like something to eat? Something to nibble?” What was wrong with him? Those were not words you should say to strangers. “Apricots soaked in honey? Quite why, no one knows, because it stops them tasting of apricots and makes them taste like honey, and if you wanted honey you’d just buy honey instead of apricots.” He pulled the glass jar out of the fridge. He needed to have something in his hands or at least something else to look at except for her.

“But nevertheless, there we go, they’re yours if you want them.” He showed her the jar full of honey covered apricots.

“No.” It was the millionth time he heard her say it.

“Do you always say “no” to everything?” He was thinking out loud. She looked around, thinking about her answer and then said, with half a smile: “No.” Tom closed the fridge. “I’d better be going. Thanks for your, uh,” She was looking for a word, “help.”

Tom leaned against the fridge. “You’re welcome. And may I also say, um, heavenly. I’ll just take my one chance to say it. After you’ve read that terrible book you’re certainly not gonna be coming back to the shop.” He looked down at the ground.

“Thank you.” She actually smiled.

“Yeah, well, my pleasure.” He smiled back. The girl now turned around and made her way through the tight corridor towards the door. Tom followed her.

“So… “ They stood next to the door now. “It was nice to meet you.” Looking at her, he had no idea what he was doing. He could feel his hand run through his hair as he said: “Surreal, but nice.” She just smiled, glancing at the door. Tom pulled at the lock and opened the door for her, saying a quick “sorry” for making her wait. She walked out without saying a word and he closed the door behind her.

“Surreal, but nice? What was I thinking?” he whispered to himself, in case she could still hear him through the heavy door. He was already walking back to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. He didn’t want the person to wait, so he jogged back to the door and opened it. There she was again. Her sunglasses back on her face. She smiled widely and said: “Hi.”

“Hi,” Tom replied, not expecting to see her again.

“I forgot my other bag,” she explained.

“Oh, right. Right.” A part of Tom was happy that he could see her again, but another was disappointed that she only rang the doorbell to get her bag. He let her back in. He walked to the chair he had put the bag on before and could hear the sound of the door closing. When he got back to her, she stood next to Harrison’s old bike. He handed her the bag and she mumbled “thanks”.

Now they stood in silence again. She smiled and Tom could see her eyes glance down at his lips. So, he did too. Her lips were getting bigger, no closer. He wasn’t sure how that was possible. And then, he could feel them on his own. She put an arm around his neck to be even closer to him.

Tom couldn't move. His arms were on his side. It was a very simple kiss, but it lasted ages. Only when they needed to breathe, did she pull away. Very slowly. She took a step back. Tom didn’t know what to do. He had never been in a situation like this before. To be kissed by a girl he had just met? It was surreal! Surreal.

“I’m very sorry about the surreal, but nice comment. Disaster.” She kept looking back between his lips and his eyes.

“That’s okay.” She focused on his eyes. “I thought the apricot and honey thing was the real low point.” Tom laughed. They looked into each other's eyes in silence until the clattering of the doorknob broke the moment apart. She turned to look what it was, and so did he. Tom knew what was next to come.

“Oh, my god! My flatmate. I’m sorry. There is no excuse for him.” he quickly apologized for Harrison’s sake before the blond opened the door. The two watched the door open and Harrison walked in. Half a smoked cigarette still in his mouth. He was wearing a brown shirt, probably from the female section, that was two sizes too small and blue jogging pants, which were so low that half his ass was falling out. He walked past them, not even acknowledging their company. Even though they exchanged “hi”s.

“I’m just going into the kitchen to get some food.” He shouted through the house as he walked. “Then I’m gonna tell you a story that will make your balls shrink to the size of raisins.” He heard the fridge door open.

“Probably best not to tell anyone about this.” She raised her eyebrows, implicating what they had just done.

“Right. Right, no one… I mean, I’ll tell myself sometimes, but, don’t worry, I won’t believe it.” She smiled and the two of them walked to the door. He opened it for her one more time and she walked through.

“Goodbye,” she smiled. Tom could only make out a small “Bye.” before the door was closed. He leaned his arm against the lock and, just, stood there for a moment. Trying to comprehend what just happened. He had kissed (Y/F/N)! The (Y/F/N). The biggest up-and-coming actress Hollywood had to offer. How? What had he done to be able to say he kissed… no, she kissed him.

“There’s something wrong with this yogurt.” Harrison shook Tom out of his own thoughts. Tom looked at the small container. “It’s not yogurt. It’s mayonnaise.”

“Oh, right. There we are, then.” and he took another full spoon of the condiment into his mouth. “On for a video fest tonight?” he suggested with his mouth full. Tom was barely listening. The kiss still fresh in his memory. “I got some absolute classics.”

Tom wasn’t sure if Harrison was joking him, because the first movie he picked was one of hers. Gramercy Park, it was called. Her face was on the cover of the movie, together with some bloke named Matthew Modine. It didn’t look great, but Tom didn’t have anything else to do, so he agreed on watching it.

“Smile,” Modine’s character begged hers in an art gallery. For some artistic decisions, the movie was black and white. Tom couldn’t understand why. The two characters walked around, looking at the paintings in the room. He couldn’t remember why they were there, he wasn’t really paying attention to the movie itself, honestly. Just her. He still couldn’t believe it that he had met the beautiful girl on the screen. Of course, her hair was different, but for the rest, it was definitely her!

“No.,” she said.

“Smile,” Modine repeated himself. He had done it already four times. Each time as annoying to watch.

“I’ve got nothing to smile about.” the two sat down on a bench that just happened to be in the otherwise, furniture free, gallery.

“Okay, in about seven seconds, I’m going to ask you to marry me.” the two characters shared a look. Then, (Y/N) started smiling.

“Imagine,” Harrison spoke up. In his hand a piece of pizza that had been hanging there since three scenes ago. “Somewhere in the world, there’s a man who’s allowed to kiss her.”

“Yeah, she is…” Tom couldn’t look away from the small tv screen, “fairly fabulous.”

____________________

Tom stood in his bookshop. As usual, it was empty, except for one man. He had been standing around for a few minutes already. In the middle of the shop, just looking around himself. “Do you have any books by Dickens?” he finally asked. Tom looked up from his inventory.

“No. No, I’m afraid we’re a travel bookshop. We only sell travel books.” The man didn’t seem to understand. He didn’t look exactly to be well. A bit pale and dried up. His suit also looked slightly too big for him.

“Oh, right. How about the new John Grisham thriller?”

“Well, no, because that’s a novel, too, isn’t it?”

“Oh right.” His eyes looked a bit glassy as he continued to gaze around the room, nowhere in particular. The man sighed deeply. “Have you got Winnie-the-Pooh?” Tom was officially done with this individual. The knew that Martin should be there somewhere, so he called out: “Martin, your customer.” Martin, this time wearing a big red cardigan, purple shirt, and a blue tie, popped up from behind a wall. He definitely had not heard the conversation Tom had with the man because he pleasantly asked: “Can I help you?”

A ring of the bell above the entrance made Tom turn around. It was probably just the strong wind that had been roaming around the street the whole day because there was nobody there when he looked. What he did see, was a double-decker bus driving in front of them right then. On there, the advertisement for the movie HELIX. He knew it would be coming out in cinemas soon, but that was about it. As the bus moved along, he saw her face. Of course, she would be the star of it. There almost hasn’t been a movie without her for the last two years.

It had been two days since the orange juice incident, Tom felt like he couldn’t avoid (Y/N). Her perfect face was everywhere. It was sad because he knew that in reality, he would never see her again.

The next morning Tom was making his way up the stairs, to the bathroom, when Harrison came walking downstairs. For some unknown reason, he was wearing Tom’s red scuba gear. His flatmate walked past him with a nonchalant “Hey” and left Tom confused on the stairs.

“Just, incidentally, why are you wearing that?” Tom asked at the breakfast table. He was looking at Harrison who stood by the (still very full) sink eating a bowl of cereal, a cigarette between the same fingers in which he held the spoon...

“Combination of factors really,” he said as he ate. “Uhm, no clean clothes…”

“There never will be, you know, unless you actually clean your clothes.”

“Right,” he nodded, “Vicious circle.”

“Yeah.” Tom agreed.

“And I was, like, rooting round in your things and I found this and I thought: Cool.” Tom looked at Harrison properly. Cool, was not a word he would use. The scuba-suit was definitely one of the less extravagant pieces of wardrobe Harrison has ever worn, but it was still a scuba-suit.

“Kinda spacey,” he added.

It was a Saturday, so the two men decided to do what they usually did when they didn’t have plans. They went up to the roof. It was a very pleasant spot where you could look out on the city, without the city looking back at you.

Tom sat down on a chair, under a parasol, while Harrison lounged himself on a slightly higher bit of the roof, next to the flower pots of which the residents had died many moons ago. He lay down on his side.

“There’s something wrong with the goggles, though.” Harrison tried to adjust them to his face.

“No, they were prescription,” Tom explained, not looking up from whatever article he was reading.

“Groovy.” Harrison sat up.

“So I could see all the fishes properly.”

“You should do more of this stuff.” He adjusted the goggles again. Tom doubted if his friend over there could actually see anything through them whether or not he moved them around in some way.

“So, look, any messages today?” He put down his article on the small table next to him.

“Yeah, I wrote a couple down. Harrison got up and walked over to another piece of the roof, where his own set of table and garden chairs stood. It was fully in the sun and Harrison often, unfortunately, lay there naked. Hoping to get a tan someday.

“So, there were two, there were two messages? Right?” He watched as Harrison walked over to the other chairs and sat down, putting his feet up on another chair in front of him. He pulled down the goggles so they would hang around his neck. “You want me to write down all your messages?” He waved with his cigarette as he talked.

Tom didn’t understand how he managed to live with this idiot for this long. He also didn’t understand how he had not yet bought an answering machine. Massaging his temple, he asked: “Okay, Who are the ones that you didn’t write down from?” Harrison took a swing from his cigarette and thought for a moment.

“No, gone completely.” But immediately after that, he remembered again: “Oh, no, there was one from your mum. She said: don’t forget lunch, and her leg’s hurting again.”

“No one else?”

“Absolutely no one else.” Tom looked at Harrison for a moment, ready for him to add something to his sentence. But he only leaned back relaxed in his chair. After six seconds, Tom gave up and went back to the article he was reading. Of course, right at that moment, Harrison started talking again. “Though if we’re going for this obsessive writing-down-all-the-message thing, some American girl called (Y/N) called a few days ago.” Tom’s head shot back up. She called? How was that even possible? He wanted to play it a bit cool. “What did she say?” he asked.

“Well, it was genuinely bizarre. She said: Hi, it’s (Y/N). Then she said, Call me at The Ritz. And then gave herself a completely different name.”

“Which was?” Tom dragged him on.

“Absolutely no idea.” He took another breath of his cigarette. “Remembering one name’s hard enough.” Tom groaned in frustration and got up from his slightly uncomfortable chair. He made his way downstairs, to the living room-study where the phone was located. He had to look for the telephone book to find the number for the Ritz. Of course, it was hidden underneath a pile of Harrison’s dirty clothes.

Once he had the number for the hotel, he ticked it into the machine and waited for the other line to answer. It soon did. A man asked him who he wanted to speak to. Tom knew that it probably wouldn’t be (Y/F/N). It was probably the name that she had left with Harrison… which he forgot. He tried anyway. The man said that there was nobody staying here under this name.

“No, I know that. She said that. I know she’s using another name. The problem is she left the message with my flatmate,” Tom looked at Harrison who very calmly and casually sat down on the couch in front of him and opened up the newspaper. A new cigarette in his mouth. “Which was a very serious mistake. Uhm…” he didn’t know how to explain it to the man on the other line. “Imagine, if you will, the stupidest person you’ve ever met. Are you doing that?”

“Yes, sir, I have him in my mind.” he heard.

“And now double it. And that is the, what can I say, the git that I am living with. And he can’t remember this other…”

“Try Flintstone,” Harrison said. His voice sounded very nasally because he was wearing those goggles again. Tom looked up at him in complete disbelief.

“Sorry,” he said to the man from the hotel. “What?”

“I think she said her name was Flintstone.” Tom rolled his eyes. A cartoon character? Really? But he had no other options, so he took his shot in the dark: “I don’t suppose Flintstone rings any bells, does it?’ He was expecting the man to laugh at him, but instead, the man said: ‘Well, I’ll put you right through, sir.” He couldn’t believe it. While the line was being switched he tried to think of what he should say. That was cut short when her voice was heard. “Hello.” He put the phone back to his ear.

“Hi. Sorry. Uhm…It’s Tom, Holland.” He wasn’t sure she would know who he was.

“Yes?”

“We… I work in a bookshop.” He sat down, not sure his legs could hold him up during this conversation. He wasn’t very hopeful that she remembered who he was. But she did. “You played it pretty cool there, waiting for three days to call.”

“Oh, no, I promise you I’ve never played anything cool in my entire life. My flatmate, who I’ll stab to death later, never gave me the message.” he tried to explain himself. She didn’t say anything. This was his chance. “I don’t know, perhaps… uhm, I could drop round for tea later or something?” She didn’t say anything for a while.

‘Things are pretty busy here. I might be free at around 4:00.”

“Right. Right. Great.” They said their bye’s and he could hear the other line hang up. He held the phone in his hand for a second or nine before putting it down. He looked at Harrison, who had put down his paper and took a long swing from his cigarette. Before blowing out the smoke that had built up in his lungs, he put the goggles back over his eyes. Tom could suddenly see smoke coming out from underneath the goggles.

At around 3:30, Tom decided to leave the house. Not only have at least ten minutes to spare in case any traffic came up but also because he was starting to get tired of Harrison blowing smoke in his goggles and then yelling that his eyes burned.

He took the bus. Getting out as quickly as possible. He crossed the street and looked at the entrance of the Ritz. He had never even been close to the building. With his lower than low income, he didn’t exactly feel worthy to be around it.

Walking in, a whiff of richness could be felt. It wasn’t very pleasant. He had walked to the front desk and asked in which room “Miss Flintstone” was staying and then headed to the elevators. The man had said to go to the fortepiano and to the right. So that is what he did.

A man in a black suit walked in with him. In one hand he was holding a briefcase and in the other a cup of coffee.

“Which floor?” Tom asked.

“Three, please.” That just so happened to be the same as his. The doors closed and they were ascending. Not much later the elevator stopped and they got out. Tom glanced at the little navigation sign on which it stated which rooms were on each side of the corridor and made his way to the right. The man took a bit more time doing so but followed him in the same direction. He walked behind him until the very end of the corridor, all the way up to room number 38, the Trafalgar Suite. Before Tom knocked he turned around to the man. “Are you… sure?” Was he here too to see (Y/N).

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, Sure.” He smiled. Tom knocked on the door. They waited for the door to be opened. Even though the other man stood a good distance away from him, Tom still had the feeling he could feel his breath on his neck. He felt very uncomfortable. Who was he? What was he doing here?

The door suddenly opened, revealing a woman around his (and maybe also the other man’s) age. Tom had never seen her before. She was barely looking at them, too occupied by whatever it was in her hands.

“Hi. Hi. I’m Karen.” Karen handed him a booklet, on which a the same picture was that he had been seeing all over town recently. It was (Y/N), in her futuristic bob-cut, from her new movie HELIX. “I’m sorry, things are running a little bit late. Here’s the uhm, thing. Do you wanna come this way?” She went back inside.”Through here.” Not knowing what to do, Tom just followed and so did the ginger man. There were many other people in the room. All looking like they have been waiting for a while, all holding the same booklet that Karen had given to him. Tom finally understood what was going on. This was a press conference.

“So what did you think of the film?” Karen clicked her pen, ready to write down their words.

“Yeah, I thought it was fantastic. I thought it was Close Encounters meets Jean de Florette.” the ginger man said. Karen smiled satisfied. Then the two of them looked at Tom, expecting him to add to it. He did not know what he thought of the movie as he had not seen it, nor - honestly - was he actually planning on seeing it. Because he had to say something, he choked out: “I agree.” The man nodded approvingly and swung his coffee cup back to drink the last bit of his drink.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get down what magazines you’re from.”

“Time Out.” the man said.

“Great,” she noted the name, then looked up at Tom, “and you’re from?” Tom was very much freaking out. He was definitely not from any magazine. He can’t even remember the last time he read one. He tried to look around unnoticed for some inspiration. Thankfully, on a small table nearby, there was a whole pile of magazines. Hidden behind a vase of flowers. It was the only option he got.

“Er- Horse & Hound.” The man next to him smiled impressed. Tom smirked back. Karen wrote down the name too. As (Y/N) had said that they could meet up today, he assumed that she was expecting him.

He cleared his throat: “The name’s Tom Holland. Actually, she might be expecting me.”

“Oh, okay.” She didn’t sound very impressed but went along with it. “Take a seat and I’ll go check.” Karen smiled and walked away. The ginger man still stood by him. He pointed at a small couch and asked if they should sit down. They did so. As they walked over to it, the man started a conversation: “I see you’ve… I see you’ve brought her some flowers.” he pointed at the small bouquet. Tom had completely forgotten about them. It was rather pathetic now that he thought about it. He started laughing: “No. These are.. for my… grandmother. She’s in a hospital down the road. Thought I’d kill two birds with one stone, you know.” The man nodded.

“Sure, right. Absolutely, yeah.” Tom turned around slightly, hoping the conversation was now over. Unfortunately, for him, it was not. “Which hospitals that?” Tom wanted to tell the man to mind his own business but thought it would be quite rude to do so.

“Do you mind me not saying? It’s a rather distressing thing, isn’t it?” he was impressed by himself, really. “The name of the hospital kind of gives it away.”

“Absolutely. Sure.” the man agreed. Tom thanked him with a “Cheers.” There was a very awkward silence between them. Tom did not know if this was much better than the conversation.

“Right, Mr. Holland,” Karen popped up through the crowd of journalists from a different corridor than into which one she had disappeared, “If you come this way.”

“Right.” Tom got up. He walked over to Karen who showed him towards a room a bit away from where everyone was standing and waiting. “You’ve got five minutes.” She opened a door for him and walked away. The room was oval shaped. Very roomy and very classy. The beige color of the walls was repeated in the furniture, ceiling, drapes, and carpet. Parallel to the door was a big window looking out on the city. In front of it stood (Y/N). she had her back facing him but turned around the moment he walked in. Just like the last time he saw her, she was beautiful. Even with the light making her only a silhouette. She walked away from the window with a big smile. Tom could now see her more properly. Yes, she was beautiful. Dressed in a full suit, including a tie, she showed all the power in her that the world needed to see. Her hair was tied back in a slick ponytail.

“Hi.” He said. She responded with a simple “Hello.”

“Uhm, I brought these, but clearly…” he looked around the room, where gigantic bushes of flowers stood in every spot that fit.

“No, they’re great. They’re great.” She smiled and took them from him. Tom didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry about not ringing back.” he apologized when she put down the flowers on the table in front of them. “The whole two-names concept was totally too much for my flatmate’s pea-sized intellect.”

“No, it’s a stupid privacy thing. I always pick a cartoon character.” thankfully she didn’t seem to be very angry at him, technically, ignoring her for three days. “Last time I was Mrs. Bmbi.” she laughed at her own choice. The door of the room closed as a man stepped in, making them both look away from each other. The man was older, already at the point where his barely-there hair was completely white. He was wearing all black, so Tom assumed it was some type of security.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you.” (Y/N) smiled at the man, who brought his attention to Tom.

“And you’re from Horse & Hound?” Tom just nodded. “Good.” Then he turned around and started going through some papers.

“Is that so?” (Y/N) smiled, probably holding in a bigger one underneath it, and sat down on the big couch. Not wanting to be inappropriate, Tom sat down in a chair next to it. His eyes were still on the man. He couldn’t have the conversation he wanted to have, while he was there. They would have him kicked out before he actually asked anything.

“So..uhm, I’ll just fire away, then, shall I?” he looked unsure at (Y/N), who glanced at the man in the round corner of the room and smirked. She waited for his first question.

“Right...er- The film’s great.” Always a good way to start, he thought. “And I just was wondering whether you ever thought of having more, uh, horses in it?” The man cleared his throat. It was unsure if it was towards Tom and his ridiculously idiotic question, or it was actually needed. Especially, that he didn’t even seem to be paying attention, as he was checking her mail. (Y/N) answered as she glanced over at him: “Well, we would have like to, but it was difficult, obviously, being set in space.” Tom seemed to blank out for a minute. At this moment he felt like a bigger idiot than Harrison.

“Space, right, yeah. Yeah, obviously very difficult.” The door opened again and the man left. Tom didn’t even wait to make sure he couldn’t hear them. “I’m so sorry. I arrived outside, they thrust this into my hand.” he showed her the movie booklet that he had earlier on put down.

“No, it’s my fault. I thought this would all be over by now.” she sighed. “I just wanted to sort of apologizing for the kissing thing. I seriously don’t know what came over me.” Tom could feel the smile on his face slowly lower itself. He didn’t know what he had expected from this conversation, but this somehow was not it. “I just wanted to make sure that you were fine about it.”

Tom froze for a moment. Of course, he was fine about it. The kiss was amazing. He knew that he probably should say it out loud too. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Absolutely fine.” He had to play it cool, though. Once again, the heavy door opened and closed. The bold man came in again.

“Do remember that Miss (Y/L/N) is also keen to talk about her next project which she is shooting later in the summer.” He walked over to them to pour a glass of water for (Y/N). Tom was sure she could perfectly well do it herself and that there was no particular reason for the man to be there now.

“Yes, excellent. Excellent.” He did not want to talk about her next project, but since the man was still there, he had no other choice. “Any horses in that one?” She looked at him with a sad smile. He knew very well that this attempt at an interview was not going great at all. “Or hounds for that matter?” he added quickly. “Our readers are equally intrigued by both species.”

“It takes place on a submarine,” she explained disappointedly.

“Oh, well, bad luck.” he glanced over at the man, who did not seem to be very keen on leaving. “But if there were horses in it, would you be riding them, or would you be getting a stunt-horse-double-man-thing?” he could hear the man walk away with a sigh, opening the door, and closing it behind him.

“I’m a complete moron, I apologize.” he took a deep breath. “This is very weird. It’s the sort of thing that happens in dreams, not in real life. I mean, good dreams. It’s a dream, in fact, to see you again.” He looked away, not believing what he had just said. Her next words were soft, almost a whisper: “What happens next in the dream?”

Her smile took his breath away for a moment there. Once he managed to talk, he thought for a moment. “I suppose that in the uhm, dream, dream scenario, I just change my personality,” he wished he was more confident around her, less of a bumbling idiot. “Because you can do that in dreams and uhm... “ They were looking into each other's eyes. Tom was not sure if she was actually moving closer to him or he was just imagining it. “And walk over and kiss the girl. But…” they both started to lean in. This was happening. Now he was prepared. He could do it.

The only problem was, it was not happening. The old security man came in through the door, making Tom and (Y/N) sit up and look away from each other. Breaking any tension there was between them.

“Time’s up, I’m afraid. Did you get what you wanted?” Tom wanted to punch the stupid grin off of his face. Of course, he didn’t get what he wanted. But he had to keep calm.

“Nearly. Nearly,” he said, fidgeting in his chair a bit.

“Well, maybe just one last question,” he smirked towards (Y/N). It was very unnerving to look at. She smiled and said: “sure, sure.” The man left again. It was all very annoying.

“Are you busy tonight?” Tom asked when the door clicked in the lock.

“Yes.” She simply stated.

“Right. Right.” He understood. Of course, the biggest movie star in Hollywood would be busy. She doesn’t have time for him. What was he thinking? There was a silence between them. Very awkward.

“Come in,” The man walked in, This time followed by a Clark Kent looking type. (Y/N) got up, so Tom assumed it was really time to go for him. They politely shook hands and she said: “Well, it was nice to meet you.”

“Yes, and you.”

“Surreal, but nice.” She smirked. Tom laughed at the comment. It will haunt him for the rest of his life, probably.

“Thank you,” he said, “You are Horse & Hound’s favorite actress.” the comment made her laugh out loud a little. “You and Black Beauty tied.” He wished he could kiss her, but the men next to them made it impossible. So, he walked away. Not looking back. He was not exactly pleasantly surprised to see the ginger man standing outside. When he saw Tom, he told whoever he was talking to on the phone, to hang on.

“How was she?” He asked interestedly.

“Oh, um…” the question threw him off a bit. “Fabulous.”

“Excellent.” they were about to part, but the man stopped him again. “Wait a minute, she took your grandmother’s flowers?” he looked confused. So did Tom. Grandmother’s flowers? What was he on about? Then he remembered his poor excuse.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s right. Bitch.”

“Mr. Holland.” It was Karen, coming out of a corridor. What was it now? Couldn’t he just leave? He was fine, honestly. “If you’d like to come with me, we can just rush you through the others.”

“The others?” Karen walked away, but Tom stood still in his spot. What others? There weren’t any others for him. Just (Y/N). Karen didn’t stop or respond, so he had to follow her. The woman leads him into another room, where a gentleman was seated.

“Mr. Holland is from Horse & Hound,” she told him and walked away, but not before gesturing to Tom to sit down.

“How ’s it going?” the man asked. They shook hands.

“Very well. Thank you.” Tom was going to pass out. He couldn’t interview him! And Karen had talked about others. That was definitely plural. Was he expected to talk to the whole cast? He couldn’t.

“Have a seat.” They sat down. Tom was ready for the next hour of torture to begin.

-------

Should I write and post more of this story? Do you want to be tagged? Any other request or comment?

64 notes · View notes

daggerzine · 6 years

Text

Coming up for air….Phil Sutton of the Pale Lights opens up.

A few years ago I began hearing the name Pale Lights in NYC indie pop circles. Then, leader Phil Sutton was nice enough to send me a package that included the band’s terrific debut LP, 2014’as Before There Were Pictures, plus a single and a cd by his other band, Soft City (see below). Well, I had been playing that Pale Lights record constantly until earlier this year when Sutton and Co released their as good/maybe better sophomore effort, The Stars Seemed Brighter released at the tail end of 2017. Listening to the records it seemed like Sutton wasn’t just some newcomer on the scene and as it turns out he’s not. He cut his teeth (into fangs) in DAGGER favorites Comet Gain back in the early 90’s and then with some other bands in between. In his music you’ll hear the classic songwriting style of The Smiths, Felt, Orange Juice, Go-Betweens, etc. A breezy pop sound that Sutton and Co. make seem effortless. Honestly, The Stars Seemed Brighter might by my most listened to record this year so far. These days the lineup of Pale Lights seems pretty solid with bassist Maria Pace, drummer Lisa Goldstein, guitarist Andy Adler and keyboardist/vocalist Suzanne Nienaber (who also plays in the Great Lakes) and Sutton singing and playing guitar as well. Phil took some time while healing up after an illness and was more than happy to elaborate on my questions. Take ‘er away, Phil! (**also, if you happen to be in Brooklyn, NY on 8/4/18 try and catch their show with The Essex Green and Adeline Hotel at the Knitting Factory- link at the bottom of the interview).

Pale Lights gettin’ some sun (L-R- Andy, Suzanne, Phil, Maria and Lisa)

Where did you born/where did you grow up?

I was born in Germany, an army brat for the first ten years of my life. When my Dad left the army we settled in a village in Oxfordshire. I ended up in London as soon as I could manage it, via a shortish stays in Banbury and Oxford. The village, which I for the most part hated, was inspiration for the Pale Lights song, Coming Up For Air, which gets it’s title from the George Orwell novel, which is about someone returning to their childhood home, a village in Oxfordshire.

Whar was the first instument you picked up?

Drums, playing for Comet Gain, in 1992. Well, I say drums, I didn’t own a kit until 1995. I was always borrowing one. I didn’t pick up a guitar until I was in my 30s. I think it shows!

What was your first ever gig?

The first live music I ever heard was Ultravox, at the Oxford Playhouse. I went with a schoolfriend. We had gotten the tickets about 8 months before. The BMX Bandits were playing the same night, but I had committed to Midge and the boys. It was pretty terrible. The set ended with the band all standing in line playing bodrums. Not very synthesizer-y. The woman next to me spat in my ear as she screamed “Go Billy!” when the Billy Currie caught a violin shown to him by a roadie to play the solo in Vienna. It was pretty swish, but seemed…not cool. My next show was, I think, The Soup Dragons with The Thanes, a great Scots 60s inspired garage band. Then it was, I think, Felt with the TVPs and many, many indie pop types after.

What was your initial entry into the world of indie/punk music?

Comet Gain was my first band. David, the groups founder, was my flatmate. He asked me to drum, even though I couldn’t, and I said yes, because I think it was me or no one. I didn’t really learn to play drums until after I’d left! We made a series of terrible DIY tapes in his bedroom which were sold in the Rough Trade shop. Comet Gain completists go nuts for that stuff.

I’d heard you were in Comet Gain. What year was that? How long did your tenure last?

I was in Comet Gain from 1992 to 1997. I played on the first 2 LPs, and a bunch singles, compilation songs, and a couple of BBC sessions, one for John Peel, and one for the Evening Session. I left when the original lineup split and played drums for Velocette. I did a couple of singles and a Peel session with them, before I left to form my own group. Even though I quit the group, Comet Gain were super important to me, and together with the whole riot girl movement shaped how I think about music, if not directly (I’m really not very punk) then at least in spirit, that isn’t sexist, cliched, macho. The idea of being independent, DIY, creating art that tries to be about something. I always try and play in mixed gender groups, for instance. For me music is more interesting when it’s not a boys club. I’m still a big fan of Comet Gain’s music. It was sad that the first lineup was too dysfunctional to stay together (mostly because we were two groups), but Comet Gain improved by leaps and bounds when the focus shifted solely to David’s song writing. I think their last LP was their best.

The Soft City (that’s Phil far right)

In between Comet Gain and The Soft City (I know , a looooong gap) what bands were you in?

I formed Kicker with Jill Price (then Jill Drew), Andy Jones, and Laura Bridge (Harper Lee) in 1998. We were joined later by Jax Coombes (Comet Gain, Velocette), Beatrice Hatherly, Cat Cormack, and Ben Phillipson (18th Day of May, Comet Gain, Bonnie Dobson’s band). Kicker was the first band where I wrote and sang (sometimes). Jill was the main singer. I’d been fired by Velocette, and decided to start my own band so I couldn’t be fired. But I had to write some songs! So I did. I couldn’t play an instrument, so I sang the songs to the others, who worked out the chords, etc. We did OK, got played by Peel and the other BBC evening types, recorded a couple of albums for the London label Track and Field, and played a lot of shows. We were label mates with people like Essex Green, The Projects (for whom I played drums for one LP), Ladybug Transistor, Great Lakes, Tom Paulin, The Loves, Saloon. Lots of great bands. Kicker split in 2007 when I met my wife and immigrated to the US. I was strumming a Kicker song called Blue the other day, which I’m thinking of playing out at some point. David (Comet Gain) told someone (not me) that it was a proper song. Which I think it is.

Tell me about the Soft City? Were you mostly the drummer? Is the band still together?

When I arrived in New York City I didn't know many people. Kevin Pedersen, who runs What’s Your Rupture? was a good friend I’d met through his love of Comet Gain, and was a real good host, introduced me to some lovely people, including Andy Adler, and I got to know Gary Olson. I wanted to start a new group, so pretty much put together Kicker USA, The Soft City. I put an ad in Craigslist, and it was answered by Jason Corace, who made records as A Boy Named Thor, and Dora Lubin. I say Kicker USA because it was mostly me writing the songs (Jason wrote some too, which I think may have been superior songs! Plane In The Sky from out 7” EP is lovely), and I played drums too, although I was writing on the guitar by this point. I decided not to sing though, to give the audience someone to focus on. We played our debut show at the Cake Shop, at the NYC Popfest 2008. It was great! We had already recorded our album, I think. Or had nearly finished it, maybe. Kyle Forester, who we met through Gary Olson, played bass and keys on the first record. Incidentally Knight School played that show, and Lisa was their drummer I decided that if I stopped playing drums, she would be The Soft City’s drummer. It was kismet! Or something… The Soft City made an LP for Plastilina Records, and an EP for my own label, Calico Cat. The Lp bombed, but the EP sold out. C’est la vie! Turner Stough joined us for the EP as bass player. Jason then got tenure in Baltimore, and Andy Adler and Lisa joined.

When did you move to the states? Was it right to NYC or did you live anywhere else?

2007. I’ve always lived in New York City, in Manhattan, then Brooklyn, and now Queens.

Pale Lights debut from 2014

When did the Pale Lights come together? How did the current lineup come about?

Dora left NYC in 2011, so The Soft City stopped. I decided I wanted to sing again. The first The Soft City release was recorded in the UK just before I left, as a sort of demo, a 3 track affair. It got released by Roque Ruiz’s Cloudberry Records. So I started Pale Lights, initially with Lisa and her friend Maria Pace, and very soon after Andy Adler joined. We recorded our first EP pretty soon after that, with a librarian friend, Brooke Watkins on keyboards. One of our earliest shows was the NYC Popfest, in 2012. Comet Gain played that year, so we got to hang out I had a ball!

Tell me about the recording of the latest record, The Stars Seemed Brighter. How did the recording differ from your debut?

Perhaps not that much? I think it’s a stronger set of songs, maybe. We recorded with Gary Olson at Marlborough Farms, and Kyle Forester did the keyboards. The main difference is that Suzanne Nienaber joined us and now sings on all of the songs. Maria’s bass playing has come more to the fore too.

What about your recent tour of Germany, did you get sick? Were you able to play any of the shows?

Yeah, I got sick right at the last minute. I delayed my flight, but it was no good. very sad about that, as we had been planning it for months. The group was already there, so, with a little persuasion from our label boss, Ronny at Kleine Untergrund Schallplatten (KUS), Suzanne was persuaded to sing lead vocals. She did a great job. The group was joined onstage in Augsburg by Kenji Kitahama, who’s currently in Clay Hips, Friedrich Sunlight, and The Golden Eaves, and Shaun Charman, who plays in Jetstream Pony, our label mates. (Shaun was in the Wedding Present and The Popguns). They’re from the UK. Beth Arzy is their singer. They’re very good. They have a new EP out on KUS soon. Beth is in Luxembourg Signal too. Who are also our European label mates! Anyway, they all took care of my group, coaxed everyone along, and were generally lovely hosts. So though I wasn’t there, and didn’t get to meet everyone, I know that everyone at the label and on the label is lovely. I tour managed from my sickbed, wrote some new songs, did social media.

Pale Lights- cleaning up the streets of NYC.

Tell us about your day job, are you a librarian?

Yes. So is Lisa. Have been since 2010, at The New York Public Library, in Genealogy and Local History division. It’s not very indie pop, but I do love it. I mostly do reference and instruction. Actually, it probably is pretty indie pop. Lots of cardigans and spectacles. It’s not twee though. I hate that word.

What are some current bands that you love that we might not know about?

I’m terrible at new bands. Lake Ruth I love. Great Lakes aren’t new, but their new LP is really great. Jetstream Pony, I mentioned. Jeanines is a very new band I like. We played with them at our LP launch in the Spring. Very catchy, jangly, old school indiepop, but not twee. Jed from My Teenage Stride drums, and Alicia is the singer. Alicia writes short, neat pop songs that are very catchy. I had one song in my head for about two weeks. I started going a bit mad, actually. I’ve mostly been listening to Francoise Hardy and Microdisney lately. I really need to listen to some new music. I spend all my money on buying 60s-80s records though, to be honest. I have been listening to The Dentists a lot too. A group I missed first time out. I’m going to buy the new Clay Hips LP. That’s Kenji’s new band. Kenji sings like an angel. He got us signed to KUS. But I’m not biased. My wife thinks I listen to a lot of old man music, but her ears pricked up when she heard me playing the Golden Eaves, one of his other bands. She was “Who’s this?!” She’s from the same small town near Los Angeles as Kenji. Small world.

What’s next for the Pale Lights? More shows? More recordings?

We open for Essex Green at the Knitting Factory in Brooklyn, August 4th, which I am excited about seeing as we are old label mates. Their new LP sounds very good. KUS is releasing a split 7’ featuring ourselves and Lake Ruth doing each other’s songs, that should be out in the Fall, and we have a song on a KUS compilation coming out later in the year. We’re working on new songs for a 7” for Slumberland Record’s 30th anniversary singles club, and a 12 EP/mini LP too.

Final words? Closing comments? Anything you want to add that I didn’t ask?

If you don’t have a library card, people, get one. Use it or lose it. Also Pale Lights are available for shows. Book us!

https://palelights.bandcamp.com/

***ALL PHOTOS BY LEIGH FOX

***Upcoming gig in Brooklyn with the Essex Green. See info here:

http://nyc-shows.brooklynvegan.com/events/2018/8/4/the-essex-green

Album #2

youtube

1 note · View note

squishysvt · 6 years

Text

If I’m Lucky - Ch.5`Ten

Member: Ten (NCT) Genre: fluff (??), dark Word Count: 1,834 AN I managed to write a good sized chapter this time! Hope y’all enjoy :) -Admin Ay Warnings: sex mention, death mention

Ch.1`Ten ~ Ch.2`You ~ Ch.3`Ten ~ Ch.4`You ~ Ch.5`Ten ~ Ch.6`You

Before noon, the world seemed more awake. The sun was still making its journey to the middle of the sky. Adults out working and running errands were still easily running off of a cup of coffee and children still hadn’t used all of their energy at school.

Ten observed the happenings of the city outside of his window. He didn’t really like the world before noon. Birds infested the air with their obnoxiously happy singing, and it was so much brighter than what he preferred. The fact that it was so early (at least it was early to him) on top of waking up next to the person that always seemed to bring torment with them, his day did not start off ideally.

You still lingered in his apartment, both of you not having classes for the day. The effect Ten’s outburst on you was different than what he expected, honestly speaking.

Rather than whining and running out the door like he thought you would do, you only nodded and lied on the couch that you were originally supposed to sleep in. The only thing showing any type of negative emotion were your eyes, resembling a deer in headlights. However, an odd sprinkle of something else danced in them as well. Ten couldn’t put his finger on what it was, and it would be untrue if he said that it unnerved him slightly.

His pastime of early morning city-watching was interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. Ten had initially thought it was his, and reached to his side to pick it up. As he turned his head to the suspected source of the ringing, he was surprised to see nothing on the screen signifying an incoming call.

“Hey, what’s up.” Your voice filled the room as you greeted your friend.

Choosing not to eavesdrop, Ten tuned out your lively conversation, deciding to instead fiddle with his coffee mug. His father had not called him to take care of business, and Johnny hadn’t even texted him asking him to go out. For once, Ten was going to have a quiet day. Although it made him happy, he really had no idea what to do with himself either. If he was not studying for an exam or writing an essay, he was carrying out transactions with Squalo Nero. He was barely in his apartment, thus, he barely had any means of entertainment lying around his flat. A few books that he had finished long ago scattered his coffee table, if anything. Ten sighed to himself, deciding to sip on his drink more rather than thinking on the matter further.

“Ten!”

Your unnecessary high pitched screech rung in his ears.

“What is it, Y/N?”

“Wanna come chill with me and my roommates for a bit?”

Ten groaned, “And why exactly would I want to do that?”

You approached his slouched figure and got as uncomfortably close to Ten’s face as possible.

“Because based on the data I have gathered and analyzed about you for as long as I have known you, you’re not exactly the type of person to have parties back to back throughout the week.” You smiled as Ten frowned at what you said.

“C’mon...we’re just gonna go and eat lunch at some cafe and catch up. No big deal. You can go as my plus one!”

Ten could not really debate with you there. He indeed didn’t do much that wasn’t either illegal or school-related. And although Ten wasn’t really fond of social gatherings with strangers (adding you to the mix didn’t make it any better), he did not want to be left to drown in his own thoughts today.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Ten watched with a raised brow as you squeaked and practically buzzed with excitement.

“Go get some clothes on, we’re meeting in thirty minutes,” You demanded as you pushed Ten into his room, urging him to hurry.

Before he closed his bedroom behind him, the song both you and Ten had as ringtones was brought back into his memory.

Leaning on his door frame, he inquired, “You listen to Miguel?”

You absentmindedly nodded as you tried to gather your things.

“Nice music taste, I guess that’s one thing I like about you.” The last part was low enough to where it had you wondering if you actually had heard it. Your head shot up, fast enough to see a faint smile on Ten’s face as he disappeared into his room.

It would be a lie to say that Ten didn’t enjoy the walk to the cafe with you. The warm sun hugged his back and the background noise of your rhetorical rambling as he thought of nothing put him in a state of contentment that he hadn’t experienced in years. He would never admit his efforts to suppress a smile from crawling onto his face to you, though.

Those feelings, however, vanished as soon as Ten felt them start as soon as you both stepped into the meeting destination. For some reason, he just knew that the loud man and woman huddled in the very back of the cafe was your friends. His suspicions were confirmed as he saw you zoom towards the two screaming greetings from the other side of the room. Ten quickly bought an overpriced bottle of water to assuage his oncoming headache before sitting next you in the booth you friends had chosen. As he settled down he tuned into the animated conversation you were having with your female roommate.

“Oh, dude, where were you? When I got home last night you weren’t there? I was worried when I woke up and you still weren’t in your room.”

“I may have lost my keys…” You trailed off, putting in no further effort to explain.

“What?! You could’ve called one of us or something,” the male roommate exclaimed.

The girl, that Ten would later learn is named Wendy, nodded. “Where did you end up staying then? And I swear to God, if you slept on some park bench like that one drunk night in--”

“Don’t worry! I stayed at this dude’s place.” You said as you nudged Ten with your shoulder. Directing the attention to him for the first time since he had sat down.

Ten mentally sighed, with your statement he knew this would induce a reaction from your friends, especially since they were only meeting him today. The situation he willingly put himself in today slowly started to become one of regret as he felt his head pulse.

“What if he was a murderer? What if he did something to you while you were asleep?” Ten could feel the protective anger radiating off of the man talking.

“Look, Doyoung, chill out. I’ve known Ten for a while--” Ten scoffed, the “a while” equaling about a month, “--and he’s actually pretty chill.”

All Doyoung could do was skeptically glance at the man in question, which Ten couldn’t really blame him for.

“Besides, she’s the one that decided to sleep with me first.” Ten grinned, slyly avoiding having to elaborate by drinking from his water.

Wendy choked on air and Doyoung started to engage in some sort of act of disassociation from the whole conversation.

Wendy cleared her throat. “Wow, Y/N...I didn’t know you were the...forward type.”

“I like, really didn’t need to know that.” Doyoung grimaced. Wendy had made it very clear that getting it on within the shared flat was a no-no, so the three flatmates didn’t exactly see each other as completely functional college students with sex lives of their own. Ten could tell very clearly from the reaction to his bluff.

“Whatever you think happened at Ten’s apartment didn’t,” you blushed, “and will not happen in the near future, okay?” You stood up and stumbled out of the booth, dragging Ten with you.

“Anyway, I promised him we wouldn’t be staying long. I’ll talk to you later!”

Now out of the cafe and leading Ten to no location in particular, Ten and you walked in silence. The sun was starting to lower from its highest point in the sky, and it was becoming slightly cooler than before. The both of you soon approached to a park filled with children running around and playing. Parents didn’t pay any attention to their respective kids, instead engaging in fanatic talk about some soap-opera aimed at middle-aged women.

Ten settled under a nearby tree as he rested his head on it’s rough bark, happy giggles and screams filling his ears.

“I thought your dad was taking you out today?” Taeil inquired as he swung on a swing that was way too small for him.

Ten’s small fingers dug into the playground mulch as he spoke, “He said he couldn’t because of work.”

“Then why didn’t your mom instead?”

“She said to ask you to take me. She didn’t feel like it.”

Taeil sighed, obviously frustrated by the current situation. “I hate that your parents don’t take care of you like they should. You are literally such a good kid, Ten. I don’t understand why they don’t see that.”

Ten rubbed his hands on pants and looked up from the hole he was digging. “It’s fine, I have you.” The older boy smiled. Taeil was the one who was always there for him when no one else was.

“Shoot him, son.”

His eyes fluttered open as he was greeted by your figure towering over him.

“You seem like you had a good nap. It’s getting pretty dark, I think we should go home.” You punctuated your sentence with a slight shiver. Ten hadn’t realized how chilly it had gotten, despite it being so warm in the morning.

Not really over his haunting dream, Ten took a minute to gather himself and get up. “Uh, yeah, let’s go.”

This time as the two of you walked home, Ten had actually entertained your odd musings with curt nods and the occasional hum. In the middle of your speech about, well at this point Ten wasn’t really sure what you were talking about, he had let his thoughts drift away as well. It had been a bit of time since he had last thought about his past, and he wondered why it was bothering him so much lately.

“Oh, hey, what time is it?” You interrupted Ten’s thoughts.

When he had pulled out his phone to check, he had gotten a glance of the date on his screen, the bright text ingrained into his eyes. It had now been six years since the first time he killed.

“It’s...eight-thirty.” Ten’s throat felt dry, the familiar feeling of pulling the trigger, the ringing in his ears coming back, the kick of the gun jolting his inexperienced hands all came flowing back to him.

“Ten are you...okay there? Do you need something?” You had noticed the obvious disturbance in Ten’s demeanor, but didn’t know where it came from.

“Let’s just go home, Y/N. I’m fine.”

#nct ten #ten chittaphon #nct scenerios #nct au #ten imagines #ten au #nct ten scenarios #ten #nct #nct u #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #nct imagines #nct ten fanfiction #gang au #admin ay

68 notes · View notes

littledonkeyburrito · 6 years

Text

I need to start coming up with more creative titles for these.

Ever kissed anyone with a nipple piercing? Not that I’m aware of, but there’s a couple of people that I’ve made out with and never seen shirtless, so who knows

What about a lip piercing? No

Nose piercing? I don’t think so

Did you sleep alone last night? Yep

How are you sitting? Cross legged on the couch

Where is your family? Probably in their respective homes

Do you plan on sleeping in tomorrow? Always

What were you doing at 12 AM last night? Sleeping

Waiting for something? A call back from any of the companies I’ve sent resumes to

How many people did you kiss last summer? I think it was only one actually, but there was a couple more that were summer adjacent.

Was yesterday terrible? Yesterday was fine

Did you reject or accept your last friend request? I accepted it but I probably shouldn’t have bc tbh I think she’ll get pretty annoying on my facebook (ex work colleague)

Do you like pretzels? They’re fine but they’re totally overrated by america

Do you wait until you’ve completely finished a certain makeup product before you buy a new one? I don’t buy makeup products

Would you say that people consider you a major flirt? I don’t know. You would have to ask “people”

Do any of your friends have children? Not yet

If you have a girlfriend/boyfriend, how long have you been together? I do not

Did you wake up before 8 AM this morning? I sure as fuck did not.

Do you wear eyeliner? Nah

Whose wall have you wrote on today? Nobody

Would you rather cry in public or make someone else cry in public? Neither, both are super awkward for me

Would you rather sleep for 3 days or stay awake for 3 days?   I feel like I’ve done both before. Depending on what I’m doing, both have their pros and cons

Would you rather be just rich or rich and famous? Just rich

Who will you be sleeping with tonight? Nobody

Last person to make you laugh? The internet

Do you look at older pictures and laugh? Depends on the picture

When will your next kiss be? no idea

Have you ever truly thought you knew who you were going to marry? No

Do you have anything that belongs to a partner or an ex partner? No

What would you say if someone told you they were in love with your sister? That I don’t have a sister

Has anyone called you babe or baby in the last two days? No, I’m not sure anyone’s called me that ever and I’d prefer it stay that way

Do you still talk to the person you last kissed? Currently waiting to see how long it’ll take him to message me first for once. So, kinda I guess

Who was the last person of the opposite sex to be in your bedroom?   Um well technically my apartment is a studio and my landlord was here like 20 minutes ago so I guess it was him. But the last dude to go in the actual bedroom area was the guy who stayed with me a few weekends ago from Madrid.

Did you see your best friend today? No. We live on different continents

Are your ears pierced more than once, if at all? Just the one in each ear

If you wear skirts, are you more likely to wear leggings, or go bare? I don’t wear skirts

Are you addicted to texting? No, but I do prefer to message at least one friend every day

How many times do you knock on the door? I don’t. I stand outside and text them and wait for them to open it.

If you could move somewhere else, would you? Well I’ve sent a couple of resumes to companies in Panama and if I get offered a good job with a decent salary then I’ll definitely consider moving there.

Did you kiss or hug anyone recently? No

Does your phone ring in the middle of the night? Not since I left Australia. Was a pretty common occurrence there with my job though. The worst was when I was really tired but had to take the work phone home with me and one of my staff would call just after I’d fallen asleep and I’d still be confused as fuck when I answer but have to try to play it cool and not let them know they woke me up. Was even worse when it was a client calling...

Is there anybody you’re really disappointed in right now? No..?

Is there someone you will never forget? Many people

Can you live a day without TV? Yeah

Do you swallow gum when you’re done with it? I don’t like chewing gum

Any plans for this weekend? Nope

Have you seen anyone lately that you don’t get along with? No. There’s nobody that I don’t really get along with, especially not in this country.

Who was the last person you rode in a car with that’s not family? I think the last time I was in a car was my transfer to the airport in panama. I don’t have a car here and nobody I know has a car. I always just walk or get the metro. I don’t even usually get cabs here.

Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? Nah

Is there anything stressing you out currently? My bank balance is gradually getting lower and lower and I don’t have a job yet.

What kind of mood are you in today? Average. Not happy, not sad

How late did you stay up last night and why? Maybe 10 or 11. I was pretty tired from doing nothing all day

Have you ever slept in the same bed with the last person you kissed? I think the longest I ever actually slept with him was like 4 hours. Always had to go sneak back into my room before anyone woke up.

Are you mad at anyone? No

Did the last guy/girl you kissed have any piercings? No

What is the name of the last band you discovered? Not a band but I came across Alvaro Soler and I really like his music

Would you rather go to a Katy Perry or Taylor Swift concert? No thankyou

What pattern do the sheets on your bed have? The sheets are white. The doona is white with blue diamond patterns on it

Are your days full and fast-paced? Only when I travel

Do you call any of your friends by their last name? Yeah, my old flatmate usually goes by his last name. Made it a little weird when he had family visiting because I could either 1) refer to him by his first name, or 2) use his last name and have everybody he’s related to turn around and look at me

Have you ever gotten lost in a department store? El Corte Ingles. The floors are too big. I usually end up giving up which isn’t necessarily a bad thing because it’s kind of expensive there.

How long have you had the shirt you’re wearing? A few years I guess. I don’t remember when I bought it

Are you a slut? Depends on definition

What happened last time you got drunk? I drank beer with people from the office and then I went back to their apartment which was kind of like a staff apartment and a couple of the bosses lived there too. Drank some more beer, did some cocaine, patted a dog and cut my thumb on a beer can.

When’s the last time you straightened your hair? I don’t think I ever have. My hair is pretty straight on its own.

What do you want right this second? I wouldn’t mind a glass of coke

What were you doing at 10:00 this morning? Sleeping

What cell phone company do you use? Vodafone

Do you wear a bath robe? No

Do you know anyone autistic? Yeah, a few

How about someone bipolar? I think so

What do you want your job to be when you’re older? Please offer me suggestions because I have no fucking idea

What are you listening to? Nothing in particular

Does the last person you texted smoke pot? Idk. Probably, a lot of people here do bc it’s legal. He’s my landlord though so it’s not like he’s going to tell me that information

What did you wear to bed last night? My pyjamas

Who’s in the room with you? Just me

Have you ever liked someone older than you? They’re generally older than me

Do you like men with beards and goatees? Stubble is goooood. Depends on the guy though

Where do you live? Spain

Do you always lock your door? Yes. It auto-locks anyway, but I deadbolt it too.

Do you smoke cigarettes? No

Is your birthday in a winter month? In Australia, yes. Here, no.

Do you have siblings over the age of 21? Yes.

What is the last letter of your middle name? L

Have you ever skipped school just because you were tired? I skipped plenty of lectures at uni in favour of sleep. Probably a contributing factor to the failing of classes and dropping out.

Do you wear your seatbelt in the car? Yep

When was the last time you were told you were cute? Probably in Panama

Do you like Chinese food? Yes. The food when I was travelling in China was insanely good.

Have you ever trusted a guy when you shouldn’t have? Yeah I guess so

Do you have a brother? What’s his name? Sam

What time is it? 7:44pm

Is your phone close to you? It is under my left thigh (almost my buttcheek) so I can feel if anyone messages me.

What woke you up this morning? I suppose I had enough sleep

When did you last use a straw? I have no idea but you just reminded me that I bought straws recently and haven’t used any yet so I’m gonna start drinking my alcohol with straws now. Well, not right now bc I don’t want to drink tonight, but whenever I next drink at home I’ll use one.

Have you ever driven without a license? I originally learned to drive in a Mini Moke in my Dad’s backyard (he had 3 acres) when I was maybe 10 years old. So obvs I didn’t have a licence then. Also the brakes in the car didn’t work so we basically had to make sure the dogs weren’t near us

What color shirt are you wearing? Grey. With a red/black checked hoodie over it

Do you have a ceiling fan located in your bedroom? No

What are you most looking forward to tomorrow? My life is super boring so the only thing I’m doing tomorrow is going to the post office to pick up whatever I was left a slip for.

Have you cuddled with someone today? No

Have you spoken to a relative on the phone today? No

Do you use the toilet paper with the colorful designs on it? I use the cheapest toilet paper that doesn’t feel like sandpaper. I’m not going to pay extra for colourful designs when I’m literally just going to wipe my ass with it.

What was the first thing you ate today? Spicy noodles

Do you have anything more important you should be doing right now? No

Have you set an alarm today? No

Do you keep up-to-date with current news and events? I don’t. I made a decision during a low point a few years ago to cut negative things out of my life. So I unfollowed a bunch of people on tumblr and I stopped keeping up with news because it was just making me depressed. Occasionally I google to see what’s up with my province and that’s about it. Otherwise I see what I really need to see on facebook/tumblr.

When was the last time you visited relatives? I visited my dad a few days before I left Australia

Is chapstick a necessity for you? Sometimes, yes. But if I stay hydrated enough then it’s not really an issue.

Name the last 6 people you texted/messaged:

Gabriel

João

Maggie @aturinfortheworse

Aman

Anna @intimidatethevoid

Bear

(this is a slightly unusual bunch since only half of them are people I regularly message)

How did you meet #3? Highschool

What’s #6’s middle name? No idea

Who have you known the longest out of your 6? Maggie

Who have you known the least out of your 6? Anna

How do you know #5? Through the group chat we’re in with Maggie and Bear

Where does #1 live? Somewhere nearby. I don’t know exactly

Is #1 your best friend? No, he’s my landlord

Who on your 6 doesn’t have a job? Maggie I think..? Not sure about Bear and Anna. Also not 100% sure on João

Does #5 have their drivers license? I believe so

Would you ever live with #2? Lmao I almost do. He’s my next door neighbour.

Why did you text #4? Because he messaged me first so I replied obvs

Do you miss #3? Yeah, come to Spain you loser

Is #6 a stoner or alchie? Not anymore I don’t think

Have you ever danced with #2? No, I’ve met him like twice for us to pay our bills (our apartments run off the same metre for water and electricity)

Have you ever done anything sexual with any of them? Well Aman is my ex so yeah

What would your life be like without #1? I would probably live somewhere else

Is #2 your best friend? No

What do you love about #3? So many things

What do you dislike about #3? So many things. (kidding)

What is #5’s weakness? Difficulty sleeping?

What kind of car does #4 drive? I remember it’s a little black sedan but I don’t remember what type of car it actually is

What would you do if #3 & #6 were dating? Uhhh nothing probably. I’d be surprised but they’re both good people so I’d let them go for it.

Does #2 have a boyfriend/girlfriend? No idea

Have you ever seen #1 cry? Fuck no that would be weird

Have you ever kept a secret from #5? No

What is something special about #4? He’s very attractive.

Does #2 have any special talents? No idea

In one word, describe #6. Teddy

Has anyone in your top 6 hurt you? Who? Uhh no..?

Have you ever fought with #6? No

Is #1 a musician? Not that I’m aware of

How old is #4? He’s 27

Would you ever kiss #5 (if you haven’t already)? Probs not, soz bro

#Maybe I should take the most out of context quote from my answers and use that as the title #yeah I might start doing that #this one would be #They’re fine but they’re totally overrated by america #The floors are too big #It is under my left thigh (almost my buttcheek)#Also the brakes in the car didn’t work #I’m not going to pay extra for colourful designs when I’m literally just going to wipe my ass with it #These are all valid potential titles

2 notes · View notes