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#listening to more music than i ever thought possible really; pulled up an 80 song playlist like yeah!! lets GO

newwavesailor · 2 months

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Happy 40th to the Cars' Heartbeat City!

Hey all, just to put it out there, I will go back to posting about KOSA soon. I just wanted to take a moment to talk about one of my favorite albums, which is turning the big four-zero this year.

Everybody has that album. You know the one. The one that resonates with you, really hits you in a special place and makes you want to re-experience it over and over again.

For me, The Cars' 1984 offering Heartbeat City is that album.

The Cars are certainly a favorite of mine. In fact, they're probably my favorite full stop. Much of my look is based on that of Ric Ocasek and Benjamin Orr. That is, if I can dress like them, and more often than not I just pull what's clean.

Growing up with my mother's taste in music, I was exposed to a lot of 70's and 80's new wave music, and I loved it. (I think it's part of my username?) However, in a weird twist of events, I originally hated the Cars. I thought the song "My Best Friend's Girl" was one of the most annoying songs ever written. However, as time went on, and as I started actively listening to them, I grew to appreciate them immensely. My mom had a similar experience with Duran Duran.

One day at the record store, my dad (who knew I loved the Cars) plucked a scuffed-up copy of Heartbeat City from the racks. Though I was a little turned off by the rather risque-looking album cover (I wouldn't even touch a copy of Candy-O at the time) I eventually bit the bullet and bought it, as my first Cars album.

Yes, you read that correctly. While I had heard stand-alone songs from them in the past, including some from Heartbeat, this was my first full-length drive. And I was in love.

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Being a synth pop fan, I swooned over this album. If I didn't know what album to listen to, I put this one on, and it always calmed my nerves. "Magic" was akin to a fairy-tale to me; listening to it felt like being whisked away to a magical place, a pool-party in the skies.

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"You Might Think" was already a familiar to me, and was the album's big single. But not the biggest one -- That goes to "Drive", the album's signature ballad, and probably the second-most popular Cars song behind "Just What I Needed"

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In a way, this album was just what I needed. It was what really kicked off my fascination with the Cars. People love to talk about their 1978 self-titled album like it was the stuff of legends, but in my personal opinion, Heartbeat City was a magnum opus that nothing afterwards could possibly measure up to.

Happy fortieth to Heartbeat, and happy twentieth to me real soon.

#the cars #new wave music #heartbeat city #ric ocasek #benjamin orr #1984 #albums #1980's music #Youtube

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outofsstyles · 4 years

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KILLER QUEEN (80s!AU)

A/N: Heyaa!! So here’s what happens when I watch Sing Street right after reading some of Olivia’s boyfriend!Harry prompts :) Also a huge thank you to Soph @canyon-moan for betaing this for me!! A gentle reminder that I was not, in fact, alive in the 80s so please take it easy in that aspect lol. If you like it *please reblog*, it helps a lot, also I’d love to hear your feedback!!!!

Word count: 25.3k (I have no self control!! Someone stop me!!)

Pairing: Musician!Harry + Bassist!Reader

Prompts: making it official + enemies but secretly lovers

Warnings: Our typical mentions of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll (and a lot of denim!)

Concept: You and Harry are in rival bands and you shouldn’t really get along but you can’t help it.

❁ ❁ ❁

It didn’t come as a surprise to you that, from the moment you agreed to be part of the band, your agenda would become more frantic. That’s all you read on magazines or see on the television on those late nights MTV programs that love to talk about that rockstar life. The shows and the sleepless nights. The drugs and the sex between stages. It’s always what comes to the minds of anyone that thinks about following the music path.

Of course, you’re far from being The Bangles or Duran Duran, but even when it comes to playing for uninterested drunks on small crummy bars, you still found yourself barely able to catch a breather from it.

And it also doesn’t help that on top of it all, you also try your best to balancing your studies as you go into your third year of uni. So, between being tucked behind your bass during rehearsals and going around begging for stuck up pub owners to give a spot, you still have to find time for the busy class schedule that also blends with your tutoring job on the side. Sometimes it feels like juggling those two contrasting lives is too much, and when you walk home each day too exhausted to even function, you ponder if you should just drop one of them.

You still manage to fall into a rather chaotic routine of dragging through weekdays to fall into reckless weekends. It’s not easy, but you make it work.

Today, however, seemed to be an odd one. From the moment you woke up with the sound of birds chirping and the faint conversation of your neighbors outside your window, you felt a sense of relaxation that has become a rarity to you. It’s a welcoming change from your usual rowdy roommates bantering at each other or the loud music blasting through the walls that serve as your alarm on regular days. The silence that engrosses your normally-chaotic home is calming as much as it is strange.

The whole day went by in a lulling and lazy pace, and between your several attempts of keeping yourself occupied (that being going on a walk to the library or going through your mom’s old recipe book) you actually catch yourself realizing the quietness can be louder than your roommates.

It’s a weird concept to you. Missing them when you spend so much time together in the band, but you still can’t help it. So you just blast the radio and let Rio fill in the empty walls as you wait for one of them to come home.

By the time the night falls, wind thumping on the closed windows as the first thin drops of rain start to hit the glass, Lena is back from her shift with a low huff and a roll of her eyes, mumbling how she’s never covering weekend shifts ever again -- which you both know is not true, but neither mention it. And that’s how you find yourself at the end of your unruffled day, tucked at the end of your couch under a cozy blanket. Listening to one of MTV’s nightly programs - that Lena watches almost religiously after a day of work - as background noise. You focus on the open book settled on top of your lap, enjoying her company quietly as you flip through the pages.

It could be the perfect ending for a perfectly relaxing day, the sound of the rain almost lulling you to sleep as the words in front of you begin to shuffle, finding it harder to concentrate with your mind drifting off.

But before you can let your eyes fall close and your head snuggle back into the cushions, you’re startled awake by the burst of your front door opening. The sudden noise makes you and Lena jump, a yelp leaving your lips as you look back to the source of your fright.

You barely have any time to feel panicked or even wrap your head around the possibilities of what could have caused the outburst as Abbey barges into the room. She all but jumps on each step, stumbling a bit as she makes her way around the couch to stand tall in front of you. Her red hair is full and damp, droplets of water running down her body, causing her clothes to stick to her skin.

“I got us a gig!” Her breath is short as if she just ran a long way.

“Christ, Abbey, don’t do that!” You relax back into the couch once you realize there’s no real threat invading your home, closing your eyes and letting out a breath. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

She scoffs, “Did you listen to a word I just said?” You notice her eyes are blown out, “I got us a gig, as in a </i> real gig.”

“A real gig?” Lena inquires, standing up to walk towards the front door that was left agape, closing it with a thump.

Abbey’s grin grows, her words come out slow but clear. “Next Saturday in the Blue Bird.”

“That’s in a week.” You state.

Her shoulders drop, “Yeah, and?”

“Blue Bird?” Lena comes in the room again, stopping by the head of the couch and crossing her arms under her chest. “How did you even get that I thought the only band that played there was--”

“You’re right Lena, was as in not anymore because we are playing there, and there’s more.” She interrupts, her voice raising an octave. “The owner, Ronnie, said if we’re good enough he can arrange for us to play every other weekend.”

“You’re insane.” You shake your head slightly. “That’s like a place where people actually go for the music, what makes you think we can pull that off?”

Abbey points a finger at you, “You’re being a pessimist, and that’s not appreciated in here.” She waves her hands around, trying to assert her point. “We can and we will pull that off and take over the permanent spot on the weekends.”

“Is that what this is about?” Lena smirks, eyebrows raising at her friend. “It’s been a hot minute since you raged about that Harry boy.”

“It’s not just about him, Adeline.” She barks, “It’s about us! We need to find our confidence again.”

“Again?” You speak out, making her snap her eyes back at you.

“Yes, again.” She says, “We’re doing this and it’s gonna be wicked.”

You sigh, nodding in agreement as you exchange a knowing look with Lena.

In all fairness, the prospect of playing a gig at an actual music house is as exciting as it is scary. It’s not like you think you’re not able to pull it off, but the simple thought of having people actually paying attention to your presence on stage is enough to make you want to hide under your covers and never come out. But seeing Abbey so pumped about it, there’s no way in a million years you’d ever say no.

She was the one that wanted to start a band, after all. Before she dropped out, in what seems like ages ago, she was your roommate that would drag you around every time she had those spontaneous ideas, that is going out for pancakes at three in the morning, go on weekend trips to concerts two cities away, or, well, start a band herself.

In the beginning, it was just the three of you, Abbey as the lead, you on the bass, and a girl you met on one of the said weekend trips, who had introduced herself as Lena, on the guitar. And not even a month later, you were all living together in a tiny house near the main street.

At first, the biggest issue, to your surprises, was that you couldn’t find a drummer if your lives depended on it. Even after putting out posters around campus, you only got two calls from men whose only interest was the “all-girls band” part of it. Things got better when you met Jaz, a smiley girl from your Phonetics class. She wasn’t a drummer, but her boyfriend was, they both played for their High School band (which is how they met, a proper movie-worthy story if they’d ask you). And just like that, you got yourselves a drummer and a keyboardist.

For the next few months that followed you played on dirty bars and house parties, getting paid with tipsy pats on your backs, or, if you were lucky, maybe a pack of cheap drinks for you all to share. It’s the frustrating part of trying to get into the music path, you found, most serious places were not interested on a band with hardly any live experience and no original songs whatsoever. So you just had to take whatever opportunity came your way. Once, you even played on the birthday party of Lena’s manager’s daughter, which was probably the most disastrous experience of them all, considering a crowd of eight-year-olds and their posh moms weren’t exactly fond of listening to loud covers of Blondie. You got to play three full songs before one of them asked you to leave.

The first time you actually got money was when Abbey dragged you and Lena to play on the sidewalk of the National Park, where people would come and go with their busy lives and full wallets. That was the best one, you easily got three hundred within a few hours of your open cases, which was split between the three of you at the end of the day.

Afterward, you wanted to play on the streets again, but Abbey wished more than just being a street performer, she yearned for the glow of the spotlights and a place on the stage. And it’s not like you lot didn’t think of it as well, how it would be like to have an actual gig. So, you just went back to the old routine of jumping from bar to bar. Playing for people that couldn't care less about your presence on the small stage, focusing only on their cheap beers and drunk conversations.

For a while it seemed like that was all there was to it, the music scene getting more congested by the minute, you thought there was no way you’d ever make it out there. There were moments you even thought about giving it up, if you were honest, setting your mind into getting your English degree that at least has the guarantee of a stable paycheck by the end of it. But as Abbey always says, there’s nothing you can’t do with a twist of your hair and a bat of your lashes. And somehow, she managed to be true to her word, presenting an opportunity to actually start taking this seriously.

And it would be a lie to say there isn’t an excitement growing at the pit of your stomach the more you think about it.

❁ ❁ ❁

You’ve heard about the Blue Bird before.

Of course you have, it’s near to impossible not to. Being in a small town, predominantly surrounded by uni students, and that being the only music pub in the area, you’ve heard about it quite often.

It’s become quite the hot spot for people interested in listening to good music while getting lost in the bottom of their beer glasses. With the only other competitor being a good forty-minute drive away, people go in crowds on the weekends as a getaway from their textbooks. You’re not sure why you’ve never been in it, though, only going as far as walking past it on your nightly walks during the week, listening to the faint sound of whatever band’s playing at the time.

But if there’s one thing that’s always brought up when the subject is the Blue Bird is CHASM, more specifically Harry Styles. They have the permanent spot on the weekends and have become one of the main reason people - women, mainly - come in lots to have a spot inside the packed space.

As much as his name comes up in a dreamy sigh and followed by a string of giggles when you hear it being mentioned by a classmate or overhear it somewhere in public, inside of your bubble he’s pretty much only mentioned in annoyed huffs or with a roll of eyes. If you’re honest, you know close to nothing about him, wouldn’t even be able to point him out on the street if you ever happen to cross paths. But you do know that Abbey is not fond of him in the slightest, so for that, you try to keep your distance from anything that has to do with Harry Styles.

You’re not sure how this hatred of her came to be and to be honest, you’ve never really been bothered enough to ask. Abbey doesn’t like a lot of people, her first impression of them it’s what she keeps in her heart with zero to no chance of changing it, so you just assume this Harry guy might’ve not given her a good one. It’s never really been something you really dwelled on, the circumstances in your life allowing you to ignore his existence unless he’s being spoken of. But it feels like a whole nother story now that you’ve essentially stolen his golden spot on the saturday night.

The moment you walk into The Blue Bird is when you start to come to the realization that this is really happening. Not even a full step in, your eyes already dart to the big stage standing tall across from the entrance door, bigger than any other one you’ve ever been in -- being used to small platforms that barely have enough space to fit a drumset. it’s hard not to let your lips part in awe at the size of it all, the outside is rather modest compared to it, the only really striking detail being the LED sign with the name of the pub. There’s a large bar standing in the middle of the place, serving almost as a divisor of the two areas of the pub. The first area is the one you walk into as you first enter the place, with tables surrounding the space -- that now have their chairs propped on top of them, and you reckon this is where people sit around as they wait for the musical act of afterward when they can barely keep themselves up on their feet. The second area, however, it’s just empty of any barrier, except from the stools lined in front of the bar, meant mainly for people to crowd in front of the stage.

The walls are what catches your attention, though. The one where the front door stands is covered with magazines and newspaper cutouts of celebrities, scandalous headlines written in big bold letters, and random articles about their personal lives. On top of this big collage, there are band posters, you assume the ones that played in here, most of them stuck once to the wall, except for one that you can see multiple different colored papers with the same name written on it.

You stop in front of one of them, one that’s just below your eyesight but catches your attention with the big blood-red letters that read CHASM on top of it, with a smaller font on the side saying “live every weekend of ‘87” right below it. What you focus on, however, are the five faces staring back at you, their serious expressions looking almost haunting with the black and white filter. But it’s the one in the middle that your eyes immediately dart to. Unlike his bandmates, his lips are frozen with a slight smirk, small enough that wandering eyes could easily miss it, but still prominent enough that you can make out the shadow of a dimple on his cheek. His hair is settled in a wild nest, but not in a sloppy way, you decide, they’re a rockstar kind of messy. He’s handsome, there’s no doubt in that, just by looking at the small print of his face you can understand what the fuss is about, not that you’d ever admit that out loud. But it doesn’t keep your mind from wondering the color of his eyes and what it would be like to see them up close, as you look back at the taunting grin you think what could be the tone of his lips or--

“Lost something in there?” Lena’s voice makes you jump, turning swiftly to find her grinning at you. “You should come and start getting everything ready before Abbey finds you admiring our arch-nemesis.”

Your eyes widen, coughing in surprise as you try to regain composure after being caught. “I-- I wasn’t--”

She chuckles, turning to roam back to the stage before you can finish, throwing you one last look over her shoulder. “Sure thing, buttercup.”

You spare one last look to the poster before following her lead to the other side of the room where the rest of your friends are setting up the instruments on top of the stage. Once you locate your case tucked in the far left corner you quickly open it, finding your soft pink tinted bass resting inside of it. The Sesame Street sparkling stickers stuck to it glimmer from this angle (you got them in a favor bag from when you played at the birthday party), thanks to one of the spotlights shining directly at them. You pick the instrument up, adjusting the strap over your shoulder and giving the chords a few experimental strokes before looking up at the empty place.

There’s no denial of the anticipation that takes over every part of your body at the sight of the pub from the stage. A perfect mixture of excitement and anxiousness that lights up as you imagine how it will be like to see it filled up. It makes you gnawn at you bottom lip, jumping a bit on you feet as you move to connect your bass to the amplifier.

For a while, you just finish setting up the stage, tuning in the instruments, the sounds echoing on the empty space in a bit of a disarray, as you get used to the feeling of using proper sound equipment. You had the chance to meet the owner, Ronnie, for a brief minute as he strolled around the stage, observing you all before mumbling something about paying anything you broke and announcing he’d be in his office until opening hours. It wasn’t the warmest greeting you’ll admit, but you don’t really care, enjoying the opportunity nevertheless.

Abbey arrives just a few minutes before the rehearsal is set to start, contemplating the view of everyone getting into a more of a harmonic arrangement before disappearing backstage for a moment without saying much of a word. When she comes back, she props herself in front of a big curved mirror cutting through one of the walls.

“Do you think you can do my makeup today, babe?” She calls back at you, gazing from over her shoulder with a slight pout on her ips.

“Sure.” You fiddle with the guitar pick between your fingers. “Do you want that rainbow look from last time?”

“Maybe something with less color this time.” She focuses back on her reflection, sighing loudly as fingers run through her locks. “I’m thinking of dying my hair black,” she tilts her head as if she’s envisioning her words. “I don’t know, just to try out something new.”

“That won’t make you look more like Joan Jett, you know.” A voice echoes in the empty space, bringing your attention to the entrance of the place.

And there he stands. The figure you had been staring at not long before, on the same poster stuck right behind where he is leaning, arms crossed and a smug look on his face.

Harry stands there as if he just walked right out of the big screen, is the kind of beautiful you don’t see quite often outside a magazine cover. Not that it’s something that surprises you, considering you could tell from even a poorly printed image on a poster that the sharp curve of his jaw and the cut of his cheekbones could call anyone’s attention from afar. Even with what you find to be a rather plain outfit for someone like him, a simple white turtleneck tucked in his lightwash jeans, matched with a denim jacket, he still manages to stand out somehow. It’s almost compelling, really. And you can’t help but follow him with your eyes as he pushes himself off the wall, making his way towards the bar with an attitude as if he owns the place.

Abbey scoffs from her spot, arms crossing under her chest. “Unlike you, I don’t have to try to be someone else to get attention, Styles.”

He rests an elbow on top of the counter, chuckling as he points a finger at your friend. “You’re getting better at this, I’m proud.”

“What the fuck are you even doing here?” She barks, keeping a stern look pointed at him.

“Wanted to check out who stole our Saturday night spot, princess.” He spits back at her, words dancing around the room in a teasing manner. “When Ronnie said it was a bunch of newbies had to see it with my own eyes.” Unlike her, he doesn’t seem bitter at the situation in hand, but somewhat amused at the heated girl scoffing at him. From the distance you stand, you can’t make out details, but it’s still enough to notice the grin imprinted on his face, dimples marking his cheeks as he clenches his jaw, eyes wandering around the stage as he leans back fully to rest both elbows on top of the stool. “Plus, I get free booze before the House opens.”

As the words leave his lips his eyes meet yours, and you quickly realize you must’ve been staring for quite a while. You see the smirk growing on his face before you quickly look back at the forgotten bass in your hands. There’s a warmth creeping from your neck to the tip of your ears from getting caught all but gawking at him. You move your hands to the cords, beginning to tune the instrument as an attempt to cover-up. But when you take a peek at him you still find his eyes watching you, only enhancing the blush that’s now undoubtedly taking over your cheeks.

“You lot are way more organized than I expected.” He speaks up again, motioning towards Ross sitting by the side of the stage near the drumset. “Got a roadie and everything.”

“Piss off!” Ross snarls back at him.

Harry just smiles. “Just taking a piss, mate.”

“I better not see you going around trying to get to one of my girls, Styles.” Abbey calls back from her shoulder as she jumps onto the stage, turning to face him. “Or you’re a dead man.”

“What’s that they can’t speak for themselves?” He arches his brows at her. “Where’s all that sexual freedom you love to brag about?”

“You’d love to use that as an excuse, wouldn’t you?” She toys with the mic stand. “You stay away from them.”

There’s no more banter once you begin the rehearsal. Harry grabbing a glass of a drink you can’t quite make out from the distance and moves to a spot tucked by the back of the place. Curiously, you catch yourself glimpsing in his direction every so often, but you can barely make out his silhouette due to the stage lights limiting your vision. At one point, when it dims down, you can see him scrunching over the table, focusing on a small journal sitting on top of it -- you find it odd his choice of place to do so, but don’t duel on it too much.

What keeps crawling back into your mind is Abbey’s words to Harry earlier, telling him to not try his way with any of you. She was talking about you. That much was clear, considering there’s not any other choice for him, with Jaz being very much compromised and Lena having no interest in engaging with men in any way. That leaves you as the only option that he could possibly pursue. It makes you think why she’d even consider that a possibility in the first place, but you push it to the back of your mind, concentrating on you bass lines until it’s around the opening hour and you’re getting ready backstage.

None of you are used to the concept of having a dressing room, so as undusted as it seems from a first glance, it still only helps to enhance the reality that hits you of this whole experience. The far voices from people starting to fill in the bar outside making your nerves become near overwhelming as you try to apply some eyeshadow with shaky hands.

When you’re all ready to go, just about half an hour away from walking onstage, you try to dull your anxiety with a cup handed to you by Lena of something you’re not quite sure what it is but it tastes like oranges and tequila. You settle on a spot on the certainly old red couch prompted against the wall. Avoiding a big rip cutting through the middle of it, foam poking out of the hole, you try not to think of what could’ve caused it -- or all the other stains adorning it.

There’s people coming and going around the space, the door not staying close for longer than a minute. Faster than you can process it, the room is suddenly crammed with people, none of which you recognize yet they greet you as if you’d been friends your whole life. Their loud voices mesh together, making it harder to even hear your own voice if you were to speak out loud. A strong scent of incense takes over the room, so intense you can feel the beginning of a headache. There are people stumbling on their feet trying to get to the stool across from you, where you catch a glimpse of a man with a messy mohawk snorting something out of a dirty bill.

Two strangers found their sits next to you at some point - not paying the same attention you had to the rip scarring through the cushions. Both get lost in their conversation, the man’s fluffed curls poking your face occasionally when he gets too excited with the hand gestures. You catch a word or two when they try to include you in it, you offer a simple nod, not bothering to try and understand their muddled words.

It all starts to feel a bit overwhelming, the amount of strangers surrounding you along with the nervous feeling that’s already taking over your stomach -- the drink not being of any help at all. You look around trying to find a familiar face, but you can barely spot the green ends of Lena’s hair through the crowd. Gazing down at your wrist clock, you figure there’s enough time for you to find a emptier spot so you can calm yourself down.

“I think I’m gonna get some air.” You say to no one in particular, seeing the man’s head nodding from your peripheral vision as you maneuver your way between leather-clad bodies towards the door.

You’re met with a just as packed hallway. Searching for a more vacant space, you spot a sign indicating an exit door that had been pointed at you earlier as the back alleyway. Without a second thought, you make your way around the crowded space. The nest of feet makes you trip slightly, making you crash against a girl standing next to the door. You mutter a quick apology, but you’re only met with a pitched giggle in response.

Once you reach the door you all but jolt your way out of the building. The brisk night air hitting your face, bringing a sense of relief near to instantly. You close your eyes at the feeling, breathing in as the breeze dances around your face and messes with your air.

“Well, if it’s not one of Abigail’s bunnies.” A voice cuts through the air, breaking you from your moment of relief. Your eyes flutter open, meeting Harry’s irises watching you. He’s leaning back on the wall across from you, foot prompt up and jacket thrown over his shoulders. His fingers fiddle with a closed package of cigarettes, dimples shadowing on his face in amusement.

You blink at him, taking a second to process his words. “I’m not a bunny, whatever that means.”

His lips twitch up. “I’m sure you’re not, darling.”

You observe as he thumbs the package in hand open, quickly grabbing a cigarette and resting it between his lips. “Need a light for that?”

His brows shoot up. “Didn’t take you for a smoker, angel.”

“I’m not, my friends are.” You reach for the back pocket of your jeans, pulling out a tiny pink lighter and throwing it towards him.

He catches it, holding it up between his index and middle finger. “You carry that around for your friends?” He keeps his eyes trained on you as he raises the lighter, flicking it so it paints the end of the cigarette a fiery orange. You can’t help but notice the chipped black nail polish adorning his nails, a couple of rings hugging his fingers, only adding to his rockstar persona. His cheeks hollow around it, taking a slow drag exhaling smooth puffs of smoke out of his puckered lips. He points the end of the cigarette towards you. “That’s a good girl.”

You feel your breath hitch on your throat, looking down as you feel for the second time in the day a heat taking over your cheeks. Standing awkwardly in the middle of the alleyway, your gaze waves around checking a few other lone smokers not too far from you. When you peek at him again, he’s still watching you with the same smug look he had when he first walked in. From this distance you can get a better look at his face, with it’s full colors, and you make a point to figure the forest green of his eyes flickering under the dim light.

You clear your throat, trying to fill in the silence that’s taken over the space. Keeping your eyes still trained on a random spot where the alley meets the street, you speak up, “So, how did get a gig here?”

“Trying to get to know me now, love?” There’s a smug tone to his voice, and it makes you shoot your eyes at him.

You shake your head, scoffing softly. “Was trying to be nice, forget it.”

He lets the air fall quiet for a beat, the corner of his lips tugging up as he takes another drag of the cigarette. “My uncle owns the place.”

“Ronnie is your uncle?” You crease your eyebrows.

“Yup.” He props his foot down from the wall, kicking a small rock on the floor. “He’s a right prick, but he can be nice if you get on his soft spot.” He shrugs, eyes meeting yours. “What ‘bout you, bunny?”

“What about me?”

“How did you get in the spotlight?”

You breathe out a laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not in the spotlight,”

“You’re stepping on that stage in a few minutes, love, that’s hardly true.”

You chew on your lip, locking your eyes on your feet as you sway back and forth gently. “But I’m, like, on the invisible side of the stage.”

“Invisible side?”

You shrug, trying to appear unflappable. “Yeah, well, no one ever notices the bassist.”

“I do.” He says without skipping a beat, and when you search for his eyes they’re aloof as if the words just left his lips without a single implication behind them. You wonder if there is one. Or maybe you’re just reading too much into it. Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop a flock of butterflies to sweep on your stomach as he shoots you a warm smile. He motions to the door behind you with his head, “Better get going, darling, if someone spots us talking they might think we’re friends.”

❁ ❁ ❁

“Did you see how crazy they went when we did Call Me?” Abbey leans over the table, not paying any mind to the way it starts to tilt towards her side. You and Jaz quickly balance the weight, straightening surface before the filled cups can start sliding down and causing a mess. You give her a scolding look for not being careful, but she doesn’t even look at you, only picking a fry from the pile in the middle and dipping inside her vanilla milkshake, sitting back and elbowing Lena next to her playfully. “And to think you said it’s not a gig song.”

“I didn’t say that.” Lena shakes the cup in her hand, circling the straw as to mix the melting ice cream inside, completely unfazed by her friend’s tease. “Just said we should do something new if people wanted old songs they would tune on that good times radio station, or whatever it’s called.”

“People like listening to classics!” Abbey protests, raising her voice bit, she’s either forgotten she’s in public or is just simply too stoned to care. Either way, you try to shush her, muffling a giggle with the back of your hand as you see a group two tables down looking back at her. She only huffs, leaning back down on her seat, “What do you suggest we play, then? Duran Duran?”

“I like Duran Duran.” You pester, trying to repress a smile as she shoots you a pointed look.

“I actually think Duran Duran is a great idea.” Lena backs you up, the same taunting smile reflecting on her face as she says it looking at you.

“You two are completely insane if you think I’m singing new wave, might as well start to fill in for a new vocalist.” She shoves her hand full of fries, dropping to her side of the table with a shrug.

“Jaz you think that girl from your choir is available? The blonde one?” Lena bites into her straw, barely containing her laugh as Abbey narrows her eyes at her.

You watch in amusement from across the table, the contrast between Lena and Abbey looking comical as they continue to banter at each other. In one side there’s Lena who’s leaning back on the wall next to her, her neon pink jumpsuit standing out from anyone else in your group, hair hardly styled, being more of a nest in her head, the sides shaved and the back falling on her shoulders in a mullet. On the other side, Abbey’s swallowed in black, the only color being the red of her hair, that’s pushed up in a high side ponytail.

It was her idea to come to the diner after the gig, declining every offer of an after party (which is new for her) and insisting you had to have this moment to decompress together as a band. What you didn’t take account of, is that a diner on a Saturday night isn’t exactly a deserted place. So after spending an hour sitting on the parking lot, waiting for a table, you finally got yourselves a booth tucked by the back. And now as the place gets clearer and quieter by the minute, after getting your round of burgers, you share a big pile of fries, not ready to leave and sleep on this experience just yet.

“You know who also seem to enjoy the show? That Harry dude.” The mention of his name calls your attention to Lena. “Caught him in the corner a couple times watching us.”

You take a sip of his drink, trying to mask any expression that exposes the fact that you’d noticed too, maybe more than just a couple times.

To your relief, everyone focuses on Abbey as she lets out an annoyed huff. “Why’d you bring him up of all people.” She picks up her nearly empty cup a bit too harshly, her voice rising again. “He called me a Joan Jett wannabe! Fucking prick.”

“You do dress like her,” Lena raises her brows in defiance.

“It’s called an inspiration, Adeline, doesn’t mean I’m trying to be her.” She barks at her friend. “Doesn’t give that knobhead the right to be a dick about it.”

“Why don’t you like him?” The question slips out of your lips before you can stop it, and you regret it as soon as all eyes on the table set on you, Abbey’s face creasing in an incredulous look as if the answer was obvious.

“Are you serious? Did you hear how he spoke to us?”

“I don’t know,” You shrug, looking down at your lap, fiddling with the hem of your shorts. “Just seemed like he was trying to get a rise out of you.”

“He’s got a stick up his ass, babe. A full narcissist, it’s ridiculous.” She shakes her head, scrunching her nose in aversion. “He’s also a complete womanizer, it’s disgusting if you ask me.”

“I guess,” You gaze up at her.”

“Babe, he’s a charmer, I’ve seen it before, he knows how to sweet talk someone.” She explains in a sigh. “They’re all like that.”

“They?”

“Men in bands.” She picks up another fry, poking it on her forehead as she makes her point. “Have their heads bigger than the whole stage, think they can do just about anything.”

“Suppose that’s true,” You agree, not wanting to get further in this discussion.

She smiles, biting a piece of the fry before pointing it at you. “It is, which is why we are smart girls and don’t fuck with them.”

❁ ❁ ❁

You’re aware that going for a walk by yourself at night is not a very secure choice.

Even living in what you feel like could be the most monotone town in the area (where the biggest report on the local news was when two boys got stuck on a tree thanks to a dare with their friends). But it still doesn’t stop you from being careful, only going around the busier streets, watching the movement of people - mostly students - chatting the night away on the filled pub table, enjoying the short break between studies before going back at it once the weekend’s over.

You stroll around with not much of a purpose, really, only needing a bit of time to yourself every so often when you feel the turmoil in your home becomes to much (on those weekends when both your roommates decide to stay home). So you just go on your usual path, breathing in the night air and enjoying some alone time.

The ending of your course is marked by none other than the Blue Bird, standing in a corner of the main street.

A small group of people is gathered in front of it, smoking their cigarettes. You stare at them for a minute as you get closer to the led lights indicating the entrance of the pub, the girls with their bright-colored outfits, hair styled and puffed up as they laugh along to whatever one of the boys has said. One of them has a leather jacket thrown over her shoulder that almost swallows her figure, and you can only assume that it belongs to the man talking to her, leaning back on a payphone, the quiff in his hair so high it makes him look like a knock-off John Travolta. The thought makes you breathe out a laugh to yourself.

Once you reach the entrance you look at it mindlessly, not being able to see much from outside except the string curtain hanged on top of the open door. You turn on your heels, ready to start making your way back, but as you pay attention to the muffled sounds coming from inside the pub you stop on your tracks. A familiar tune catching your attention, making you turn in the direction of the entry. Somebody to Love.

It peaks your curiosity. If you’re honest, you feel like covering a Queen song is probably one of the most bound for disaster decisions someone can make. But as you feel yourself approaching the entrance, the voice of whoever’s singing it all but lures you inside. It’s not the same as the original, of course, but the lower tone to it fits it just as beautifully and once you fully walk in you can almost feel your heart skip a beat to find Harry standing on stage. His eyes closed in concentration.

It’s saturday. His saturday night. You forgot about that.

You don’t dare to try to mend amongst the crowd of people packed in front of the stage, making your way to the bar. You thankfully find an empty stool without much of a fight, allowing you a perfect vision of the stage.

Harry is playing the guitar, his voice blending perfectly with the vocals of the girls in the background, eyes closed as he feels every lyric coming out of his throat. His stage look is much different than the one he wore back when you first saw him, it’s something you reckon not many people could rock out as good as he does. A mismatched suit, light green blazer with a pink blouse underneath, along with bright blue trousers -- it’s as if he picked one piece from different colored suits (which you assume he probably did). The locks of his hair are no longer running wild on his head, instead, it’s gelled back, a single rebel strand falling charmingly against his forehead. You wonder if it’s on purpose.

It’s quite a sight to see him like this, you’re not gonna lie. All suited up with no tie, the blouse only partially buttoned so you notice a tease of some tattoos on his chest. You’d noticed his good looks before, it’s impossible not to, but there’s something about the stage glow that makes it impossible to look away from him. It’s mesmerizing.

To your surprise, the rest of his set mainly consists of originals, and unlike you’d expect for any amateur band that dares to sweep away from covers, he manages to hold the crowd’s attention as if he’s singing any other hit song you hear on the radio. Even not knowing the lyrics, people cheer along to the songs, moving to the beat as best as they can in the crowded space. And that’s a direct result of the charisma he holds while standing on stage.

It’s entrancing, really, how he holds himself as if he was born to be doing this. And you think maybe he was.

There’s a mischievous glow to him, when he rocks out to his own songs, grinding slightly against the mic stand. A gesture that makes you flustered even from your seat a couple of meters away. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him even if you tried. And you’re sure as hell not trying.

At one point you feel a poke in your arm, turning around to be met with the barman who recognizes you from the week prior. He greets you with a shout over the noise, offering you a drink on his account. Your first instinct is to refuse, considering you weren’t even supposed to stay for long, but after a bit of insisting on his part you accept with a shy smile.

By the time he’s ending the last song, you’re at the edge of your seat, catching yourself wishing you could see more of him. The lights in the audience turn on as he wraps up the set, and just before he bows down with the rest of his band his eyes wander in your direction. It’s so quickly that you think you could’ve just imagined it, considering his eyes don’t meet yours again, only rushing his way backstage.

You blink at the empty spot where he once stood for a moment, almost feeling frozen in place as you try to take in what happened. Turning on your stool to face the bar, you gaze down at your forgotten drink. You hold it to your lips, deciding to finish it so you can ease your way out before anyone else spots you. Your attempt is frustrated, however, when you hear a voice coming from behind you.

“Reckon Abbey Road would throw a fit if she knew you’re wandering around watching my concert.” You turn to face Harry, finding him looking down at you, signature smirk making his dimples poke onto his cheeks. His hands are hidden inside the pockets of his dress pants and he’s taken off his blazer, causing the pink of his blouse to stand out even more.

You chew the inside of your lip. “I can make my own decisions, you know.”

“That’s good to hear, bunny.” His smile grows, hand leaving the pocket to motion at the empty spot next to you. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Be my guest.”

He sits on the empty stool, turning to the bartender that’s handing a drink to a man standing behind you. “Can you give the lady another one of what she was drinking? On my tab.”

“Oh you don’t have to, I was about to--” You begin, but the man behind the counter doesn’t care to listen, only picking up your empty glass and moving away to fill it up. “leave.”

“Already?” Harry arches his eyebrows, resting his arm on top of the counter and leaning towards you. His voice comes out a bit softer, dropping the playful tone, “let me buy you a drink, angel.”

You ignore the way the hairs on your neck rise at the petname. “You really don’t have to--”

“I want to.”

“Okay.” You breathe out, not being able to hold back your smile once his own grows on his face.

As if on cue, the bartender comes back with two glasses, setting them in front of the two of you. You don’t fail to note the fact that he gives Harry his drink without being asked to.

He picks up his glass, holding it up, to which you do the same, clinking your glasses slightly before taking a sip. “So, what brings you here tonight? Measuring the competition?”

“I was just walking around, heard a lousy cover of Somebody To Love, and decided to come in.”

He throws his head back a bit in laughter, nose scrunching adorably. You have to look away as to not find yourself staring. “A Queen fan, then?”

“You could say so.”

“A pretty girl with a good taste in music, gonna steal m’heart if you keep going, bunny.” And just like that, it’s like he takes all the words out of your mind. You only let out a small chuckle, taking a sip of your drink as you look away to cove the blush that paints your cheeks. His eyes are still trained on you, though. “Was it any good?”

“Huh?” You blink back at him.

“The cover.” He grins. “Or was it really that lousy?”

“Oh, it was amazing.” You say truthfully, clearing your throat. “You have a beautiful voice.”

“Thank you.” He bows his head slightly, smiling at you. And unlike before, it’s not smug, but rather warm, you smile back at him. “Enjoyed the show, then?”

“I did.” You nod.

“I’m glad.” He runs his finger around the brim of his glass, tapping against it once with a click of his ring against the glass. “What would you change about it?”

The question takes you back. “What would I change?”

“Yeah.” He clasps his hands over his lap, moving his feet on the floor so his stool swivels from one side to the other.

“Uhm…” You crease your brows, trying to hack your brain for an answer. Your eyes land on his blouse, still halfway unbuttoned. “Your shirt.”

“M’shirt?” He questions, brows shooting towards his hairline, clearly not expecting the answer. He gazes down at the piece on his body, fingers pitching the material as he looks back at you. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Not a big fan of pink.” You shrug.

“Now, we just can’t have that, bunny.” He clicks his tongue. “Pink is the new color of rock n roll!”

You chuckle. “Says who?”

“Says me.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, I’m sorry then, mister rockstar.”

His face lights up in a giggle, lips parting to say something but before he can let the words out a hand rests on his shoulder calling both your attentions to the man standing next to him. You recognize him from standing next to Harry on stage as the guitar player.

“We’re hopping over to Eamon’s.” He doesn’t acknowledge you until Harry’s eyes hover over in your direction.

“That’s fine, think I’ll stay behind this time.” Harry looks back at his friend, but you see him glimpsing at you from the corner of his eyes.

You watch as his friend raises his brows, gazing between the two of you in a curious manner. You clear your throat, shifting in your seat as you look at them. “ It’s fine, I should get going anyway.”

“You don’t have to,” he says in a blink, a smirk twitching on his lips almost as if to cover up how quickly he said it. He turns back to his friend, who’s still watching the interaction with raised eyebrows. “You can go without me, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Harry, you didn’t have to.” You subconsciously reach for his arm, retracting your touch just as fast when he glances at it. Clearing your throat, you play with “I really should get going, I was supposed to be on a walk after all.”

“Let me walk you back then,” he gets up from his stool, giving his friend a brief hug before turning back to you and extending his hand for you to take. Your lips part to protest, feeling as if you’re holding him back even though it was his decision to stay behind, but before the words can even come out of your mouth he beats you to it, “there’s no way I’m letting you go home by yourself this late, love.”

You sigh, shoulder dropping in defeat as you hold back a smile. Taking his hand, you stand up, “okay.”

The main street hasn’t exactly quieted down since you first walked by it, in fact, it only seems like it’s gotten rowdier. Time only increasing the buzz wandering in the air around the people filling the bars, voices louder, filled glasses clinking more frequently. As you stroll through it side by side there’s a comment or to that floats in the air, but you have to all but shout it, fighting with the turmoil of noise.

As soon as you turn into the first street away from the crowds it’s as if someone had turned off the sound completely, the nest of voices getting far-off in the distance and the loudest sound being of the night breeze kissing the tree branches above you. You can feel Harry glancing up at you from the corner of your eye and it doesn’t take long until his voice echoes in the air in an attempt to make small talk.

It’s surprising to you, how easy it is to be drawn in a conversation with him. Harry’s essentially not the same offstage as he is under the spotlight, most people aren’t. There’s no need for him to bloat his charisma when talking to you, he’s quieter. Shy, almost. And it takes you back a bit, to see such contrast in a short amount of time.

The magnetic force to him, however, still lingers even when he’s like this. You feel drawn to it, wanting to hear him speak about everything that comes to mind, just to savor the way he articulates his words, voice so calm and low it sends an electric chill down your spine. As he tells you about his music inspirations, going on the story about the time he traveled alone to crash a Fleetwood Mac concert, hands brushing against yours when he walks, you catch yourself wondering what it would feel like to link them together.

Once you reach your street, just a block away from the entrance gate of your home, you notice the front lights are yet to be turned off, indicating your roommates are still up and around -- most likely arguing about MTV’s top ten of the week. The realization makes you come to an abrupt stop, catching Harry off guard as he takes a few steps before realizing you stayed behind.

“Wait.” You say once he turns around, brows furrowed in a silent question as to why you stopped. “Uhm… You can drop me off here… It’s fine.”

“What do you mean? Is it too far? I don’t mind walking-”

“No!” You interrupt. “It’s not that, my house is right there, see?” You point to the bricked building no too far from where you stand.

“Why do y’want me to drop you off here, then?” The crease on his face deepens.

“I-- it’s just--” you begin, not knowing how to say it. “It’s just the girls are still awake, and..”

“Ah,” he clicks his tongue, an amused grin expanding on his cheeks. “Don’t wanna get scolded for hanging out with the enemy.”

“Don’t say like that.” You chuckle at yourself, looking down in embarrassment. “They just will never let me hear the end of it.”

“I get it, bunny.” He takes easy steps towards you, closing the space as he stands tall in front of you. You hold your breath as you look up at him, meeting his irises glimmering in enjoyment, dimples shadowing on his cheek. His hand reaches up, moving a strand of your hair behind your ear and you swear if he gets any closer he’ll be able to hear your heart thumping in anticipation. “Had a lovely time with you.”

“Me, uhm--” you clear your throat as your voice cracks, blood flooding your cheeks. “Me too.”

The streetlight above gives his face a golden glow that almost takes your breath away, his hair glistening in the light due to the gel pushing it back, and now even more rebel strands curl against his forehead. You half expect him to lean down, you don’t know why he would, but for a moment it seems like he will. To your dismay, however, he steps back, giving you one last smile before moving out of your way on the sidewalk. “I’ll see you around, then.”

❁ ❁ ❁

“I have some exciting news for you.”

Abbey’s voice startles you, not realizing she’d entered the dressing room while you focused on the book on your lap. Since you’ve gotten a spot at every other weekend on the pub, your routine just seemed to get even more busy, with rehearsals almost every day. So, because of that you barely find time to do your assignments. And with a book report due just around the corner, you’d thought maybe you could sneak in some reading time after the gig when everyone’s down at the bar and not prancing and screaming around the dressing room.

Your assumptions shows itself to be wrong, however, when your perky friend bounces her way to where you sit. She kneels next to the couch, crossing her arms on top of your legs and resting her chin on them, looking up at you expectantly, lips lifted in a side grin.

“What is it?”

“Got us an after-party, babe.” you notice a few colored lollies in her hand when she removes the plastic protecting a red one, shoving it between your lips before you can even protest. “And you’re coming with us.”

“I’d love to but I have class tom—“ Your voice is muffled around the sweet.

She rolls her eyes, standing to sit next to you on the arm of the couch. “You should stop wasting your life with an outdated system”

“You mean getting a degree?”

“Do you watch the news? We’re about to be the last generation to live fully, the world is about to break into nuclear wars all around.” She says as a matter-of-fact, turning to rest her legs on top of your lap. “Cosmo said we probably won’t even make it to the 2000s”

“Who’s Cosmo?”

She sighs, reaching to move a strand of your hair behind your ear. Her voice comes out soft, but calculated, “what matters is that we should enjoy our time while we have it.”

“You’re giving a whole speech about nuclear war to convince me to go to a party with you.” You arch your brows at her.

“Yes.”

You sigh, shoulders falling in defeat as you let yourself be convinced. “Okay. But I’ll—”

“Great!!” She squeals, moving her legs from your lap and leaning down to grab your face, pressing a quick kiss on top of your hair before jumping from the couch, and out of the room.

Once you arrive at the location of the after-party, Abbey leads you and Lena to a tall gate by the side of the house, explaining that you’re walking in from the back garden, considering the front door is locked. You find it odd, and if wasn’t for the muted sound of instruments echoing inside the bricked walls of the place, you’d doubt there was even a party happening here at all. The front of it was as regular as the other surrounding suburbian homes, grass neatly trimmed and the front lights turned off, as if nobody was even home.

Which is why you’re visibly taken back when you walk by the gate into the back area, finding an old vintage bus that could be around ten or even twenty years old, sitting in the middle of the grass. The wheels of it have been taken off, and every inch of the exterior is covered by graffiti, so much you couldn’t even make out the original color of it if you tried. Some of them are unreadable scribbles tangling on top of each other. Some are colorful drawings painted over them -- two sunflowers catch your attention, marked just above where the wheel would be, growing tall along the side and above the window.

“I know, right?” Abbey nods at your astounded expression. “Legend says John Lennon signed it somewhere.”

“Really?” You look at her, not able to hold back the way your voice pitches in amazement.

“Dunno, never looked for it.” She shrugs. “C’mon I’ll show you.”

She grabs your hand, dragging you to the side of the vehicle pointing at some random drawings and explaining the rumors behind their meanings. You try to concentrate on her excited babbles, but as you see Lena walking away from the corner of your eye you look up to watch her meet with a girl you’ve never seen. Before you can focus back on your friend, something else catches your attention, sitting on a wooden bench under a large tree, no too far from where you stand.

Harry’s in a small group sat in a circle. You recognize two men from his band sitting on the grass with guitars propped on their laps, one being the same that interrupted you the night at the bar. The rest are women who seem to have come right out of Fleetwood Mac’s tour bus, their long hairs pushed back with hairbands and earthtoned flare pants. But you barely even care about the ones sitting on the grass, humming along to the strings of the guitars. What grabs your attention is the one next to harry on the bench, her arm draped over his shoulder as she dabbles flower petals playfully on his hair.

You hardly take in his appearance, half-mindedly noticing the tattoos decorating his arms that pokes out of his tank top and the twirls on his hair as the girl winds her fingers on it. it’s hard not to remember Abbey’s words when she said he knows how to sweet talk his way around, and the thought of having fallen down on his trap only makes your heart pang on your chest.

“-- That’s basically why they won’t let anyone paint over it anymore.” You turn back to Abbey as she points to the sunflowers you’d spotted earlier, nodding along as if you’d heard everything she said. She looks at you, “but I like this way better, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” You agree, not exactly knowing what to.

She wraps her arm around yours, and you grasp the minty scent of her perfume as she pulls you close. “Let’s go inside.”

There’s an urge inside of you to peek back over your shoulder to catch a last glimpse of Harry, but you push it to the back of your mind, allowing Abbey to guide you around the bus where the entrance door is hanging open.

A small group of people greet you inside the bus, amongst them is the said ‘Cosmo’. He seems like the exact kind of person you’d imagine Abbey hanging around on her weekends’ escapades. Dressed in a baby blue velvet suit with nothing underneath his blazer except a few of - what you assume - hand-painted tattoos, matching with a rainbow stripe drawn on the side of his face, starting at the bridge of his nose and going all the way to the curve of his jaw. His hair hits just around his shoulders, the sides shaved so it’s like a puffed version of a mullet, edges dyed in a bright shade of red. He toys with a lit joint between his purple lips, picking it up and offering to you with a raise of his brows.

Normally you’d decline the offer, especially coming from someone you’d just met, but there’s an annoying feeling settling itself at the pit of your stomach. One you want to ignore but can only do so much to dull it, so you accept the joint, reaching for it and placing it in your mouth.

You’re not a regular smoker by any means, and when you inhale you can feel the smoke burning your throat as it moves down to curl inside your lungs. It makes you want to cough it out but you hold it in, trying to take in everything before huffing it out in a choked breath.

“Do you want a drink?” One of the girls asks you, already pouring you a purple drink inside a labeless plastic bottle.

“What’s in this?” You accept the cup, giving her an skeptic look.

“Pure fuel, babe.” Abbey leans on your shoulder from behind.

You hang out in the bus for a while, and, to your surprise, you don’t feel left out as they keep notice to include you in their conversations. The drink ends up being not that bad, and, even having no idea what’s in it except for the very artificial citric taste mixed with some very strong cheap alcohol, you still refill your cup after you finish it.

It’s a nice feeling, to get a bit looser in a party and allowing yourself to have some adventurous fun. And as time goes by and your mind gets cloudier, the group starts to disperse. Two of them find a spot in the back with as much privacy as they could get in a party to swallow each others faces. Another one passes out in one of the seats behind you, hugging the empty plastic bottle as if it’d run away from them. It leaves just Abbey and Cosmo with you, discussing with each other about something that you’ve stopped paying attention a long while ago.

You just watch them silently, resting your head back on the seat and feeling the late hours weightening on your eyelids. You feel like you could doze off at any moment, but what stops you from it is a loud screeching sound of an amplifier from inside the house. It startles you, making you jump slightly on your seat as you hear a voice speaking almost like a groan, and you’re not sure if it’s your drunken mind or the inaudible words but you can’t make out a single thing that’s being said. A crease deepens between your eyebrows and you turn to question your friend about it but, before you can do so what seems like the most obnoxious cover of We Built This City starts playing.

Abbey gasps as the chords of the song somehow get even louder, grasping her hand on the man’s arm. “Oh my god!” She squeals, exchanging a look with Cosmo as they both all but jump from their seats. She glances down at you, “We’re going in, are you coming?”

You raise your brows at her, trying to hide the scrunch on your face. “I’m good.”

She nods, making her way out of the bus, her feet stumbling on each other as she holds onto her friend’s shoulder to keep her balance. And just like that, you’re left alone on the leather seat.

You peek at the couple in the back, eyes bulging slightly as you see the girl has lost her shirt, the boy’s hands caress her chest as they keep their lips locked harshly. Deciding to give them a bit more privacy, you make your way out of the bus as well, the contrast from the compact air inside the vehicle to the crisp wind of the outdoors sending chills down your body.

Looking around, you realize most people hanging around are gone, probably gone inside the house. You can’t help but let your eyes wander to the spot you’d seen Harry earlier, and you don’t hold back the shock in your face when you find him still sitting on the bench, but this time with no one else around him. He fiddles with a lighter on his hand, flickering every so often to watch the weak flame before letting it die again.

Your feet start to move before you can really grasp that you’re walking towards him, your head still a bit cloudy from the substances in your bloodstream. He looks up once you get close to him, signature smirk growing on his lips as he glances up at you.

“Look what we have here.” He leans back, “a lost bunny.”

“Hi, Harry.” You say simply.

His smile turns a bit softer. “Where are your bandmates?”

“Celebrating.” You shrug.

“Shouldn’t you be as well?”

“I am.” You hold up the mostly empty red cup.

He chuckles. “I see, having fun by yourself then?”

You focus on a spot beyond his head, suddenly feeling timid under his gaze. “Seems like it.”

“Want to join my private party here?” He shifts to his side, patting the spot next to him. “S’very exclusive, as you can see.”

“Well, I’m honored to be invited, then.” You sit down on the space he made for you.

For a moment, there’s a silence between the two of you, the only sound being the jarring cover of Everybody Wants to Rule The World. The notes of it are so off that you can’t help but huff a relieved breath when it comes to an end, enjoying the few seconds of silence before they begin another song.

A small groan leaves your lips when the noise starts again, catching Harry’s attention as you feel his eyes land on the side of your face. “It should be illegal to ruin great songs like this.” You shake your head to yourself, speaking your thoughts out loud in a rush of confidence. “They should get arrested for it.”

He chuckles. “You’re not wrong.”

Your eyes dart at him, meeting his. It’s hard to miss the way his irises glimmer under the moonlight. When he glances down at the lighter still in his hands you take the opportunity to really have a look at him. The proximity makes you aware of a small constellation of freckles kissing his nose, and the stubble starting to poke out the skin along his jawline. You want to blame the haziness in your mind for the thoughts of how it would feel like to have it scratching against your skin. Or how it would feel under your lips as you nibble your way all the way to his rosy lips. You want to push these away, belittle them as nothing but drunken thoughts. But you know very well it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve let yourself be entertained by them.

A pitched scream takes you out of your head. You realize there’s been a beat of silence since he’s spoken, so you clear your throat, a warmth creeping up on your neck as if he’d been able to hear your thoughts. “Do you know them?”

He shakes his head slightly. “Not really, no. They played in the pub once, Ronnie hated them.” He glances at you, corner of his lips itching upwards. “Call themselves Crystal Illusion, so there’s that.”

“Christ.” You can’t help but roll your eyes. “And here I thought it couldn’t get any worse.”

The sound of his giggle makes you look back at him, catching the sight of his dimples carving deep on his cheeks. “You’re really something, aren’t you, bunny?”

“Why do you call me that?” The question rolls of your tongue before you can even think about it. His brows raise at your question, and you decide to enjoy the rush of confidence and pick on it further. “Dunno if I’m supposed to feel offended or charmed.”

“Don’t mean it as a tease, can tell that much.” He smiles, shrugging slightly. “You just remind me of a bunny.”

The words pique your curiosity. “How so?”

He looks back down to his lap, and if it wasn’t for the poor lighting you would be sure of the blush taking over his cheeks. “Just all cute -- could tell you were a bit reserved, and like, curious. Had your eyes wandering all around when I first saw you.” He moves his head around lightly as if to explain his point and you have to bite back a smile. “And when you were focused you’d scrunch your nose a bit. Like a bunny.”

“I’m glad you didn’t say I have big ears.” You try to humor, searching for his eyes.

He laughs, looking up at you. “I mean, now that you’ve mentioned it…”

Your gasp shifts into a giggle as you push him away playfully. “Well, if I’m a bunny...” You pause, racking your mind to think of an analogy for him, but your mind is still a bit slowed down, your thoughts taking a beat too long to catch up to your words. When you glance down to the arm that’s brushing against yours, you notice the tattoo peaking on his skin. You reach for it without thinking about it, fingers tracing the ink as you take in the drawing, his eyes follow your touch curiously. “Then you’re an eagle.” You cringe to yourself as soon as the words come out of your mouth, attempting to mask it as you breathe out a laugh.

He arches his brows, lips fluttering, trying to hold back a smile. “You think I’ll kill you?”

“Oh shit, you’re right.” You cover your face with your hand, shaking your head at yourself. “Didn’t think that one through.” Your laughs meld together for a moment, slowly dying off and giving space a comfortable silence. The only sounds being the nightly hum of cicadas and the whisper of the breeze against the branches of the trees, that and, well, the faint screams of instruments from inside the house. Looking up at him, a breath hitches when you realize the proximity of his eyes to yours. You try to tease him but when you speak your voice comes out lower than you expected, almost in a whisper, “so you think I’m cute?”

“Course I do.” He says in a blink. “Don’t think that’s much of a secret, love.”

You chew on your bottom lip, not missing the way his eyes dart down on your face. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, wiggling his eyebrow teasingly. “Think I’m pretty?”

“I won’t inflate your ego if that’s what you want.”

“I tried.” He breathes out a laugh, eyes moving back down on your face but this time he doesn’t rush them back to yours, not hiding the intent of his gaze. For the first time, you’re glad for the background noise, afraid that if it wasn’t for it he’d be able to hear the thumping of your heart.“Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?” You blink at him, not because you didn’t hear him, but because you’re a bit taken back at the forwardness of the question.

He moves his arm to rest on the back of the bench, turning his hand to play with the tips of your hair. “Can I kiss you, bunny?” He repeats.

You nod before you can find it in you to voice your answer, clearing your throat, “yes.”

The hand that’s not in your hair moves to caress your cheek, he takes a moment to look at you, thumb rubbing your cheek gently before he leans in. Your eyes flutter close instinctively, holding your breath in anticipation as you feel his lips on the corner of your mouth. He keeps them there for a beat before pulling back, tilting your face a little just to finally close the space between your mouths.

The kiss starts slow. Uncertain, even. His lips are soft against yours, warm breath hitting your cupid bow as he sucks in your bottom lip gently. You feel his hand cupping your jaw, sneaking behind your neck as he pulls you closer and you all but melt under his touch. Being this close you can smell the scent of his cologne mixed with the smoke of cigarettes, and something about it is so sensual you can’t help but grip on his shirt as to have something to hold on to.

You can feel yourself getting lost on his touch, shamelessly scooping to the side as you enlace your thighs for the sake of being closer to him. His hand falls on your knee, rubbing it as your tongue line on his bottom lip.

It’s the sound of the door that leads to the house sliding open that falls like a bucket of ice water on your head, reminding you of your surroundings, and that you’re not, in fact, alone with him in the garden, which means any of your friends could easily spot you if they were to walk outside.

It’s almost like he reads your mind when you pull away from him, loosening your grasp on the material of his shirt. His lips don’t let you get far, trailing their way along your jaw until he can bite on your lobe. “Relax, petal” He whispers, pulling back to look at you as your noses brush together. “They won’t see us, even if they do they’re probably too stoned to even care.”

You let out a weak chuckle, gazing at the door where a group of people stumble their way towards the bus, voices loud as they slur incoherent words. It’s hard to see inside the house as most of the lights inside seem to be turned off, but you can tell how packed it is, bodies pressed so close together it makes you wince slightly just with the thought of being amongst them. Looking back at him, you ponder for a second before nodding. “You’re right.”

A grin paints on his face before he leans in, closing the space between you once again.

❁ ❁ ❁

“Still with us?” A call of your name on the mic snaps you out of your thoughts.

Looking up, you’re met with your bandmates curious eyes staring right at you and you realize you’ve probably been too lost in your own head to pay attention to the conversation in hand. Your lips part for a split second, trying to think of an answer that doesn’t give away your lack of focus but a single look at Abbey’s arched brows and you know you’ve been caught.

You clear your throat, lips tugging on a guilty smile. “Sorry, I am now.”

It’s hard not to let your eyes glimpse to the back of the room, where the sole reason for your distraction sits quietly on his regular spot, tucked behind his journal and doing his own thing. But you hold back the stare, knowing your moves were being watched by your friend who’s back to talking about the setlist changes for the night, and who would not be happy in the slightest to notice your wandering eyes falling on the one person she despises the most. You wonder how she’d react if she got her hands on the piece of paper burning through the back pocket of your denim shorts.

The message was short and simple, but the connotation behind it carried a much stronger meaning to it.

Meet me in the back before the gig, want to see you. -H

You found it tucked inside your case, lying innocently on top of your bass, apparent enough so anyone who’d opened the case could’ve found it before you. Surely, no one else did, otherwise, you wouldn’t hear the end of it from the minute you’d stepped into the place. Which makes you wonder how he managed to slip in the note sneakily enough without anyone noticing it, but the curiosity is well dulled in your mind by the pounding of your heart.

To your dismay, however, you barely got a look at him throughout the rehearsal. You got to The Blue Bird later than you’d intended to, the tutoring session you had on the day ended up running later than you’d expected. So by the time you stepped through the string curtains of the pub Harry was already tucked on the shadowy corner and everyone else was hanging by the stage waiting for you, barely giving you a second to set your bag in the dressing room.

So it’s hard for you not to stare when he gets up from his seat, walking into the lighter space of the bar with his signature smirk painted on his face. You’d just gone through the last song of your set for the second time -- an amplified version of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (Lena insisting on repeating it after messing up on the first try). He’s holding a maroon leather jacket on his arm, along with his journal, leaving his arms bare under his Bowie tank top -- which, as he approaches the stage you notice the uneven hem on the sleeves, suggesting he might’ve cut them off himself. His hair is running wild as usual, the fringe curling against his forehead and you chew on your lip at the thought of running your hands through it as you did not even a week ago.

He reaches to the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a pack of cigarettes as he reaches the end of the stage. “That was a great one, everybody, maybe if you keep it going we can get you a spot on that wacky show they’re premiering.” He sets the stuff he’s carrying on the stage floor, crossing his arms on top of it. “What’s it called again? ‘S like ‘gag me with a spoon’ or something like that.”

“We wouldn’t want to steal your spot again.” The words leave your lips before you can process them, for a moment forgetting you’re not alone with him so your playful tease can be easily interpreted as mocking.

He rests the things he’s carrying on his arm on the stage floor, hoisting himself up almost effortlessly before picking them up again, walking the few steps it takes for him to stand in front of you. His lips are tugged on a shit-eating grin. “Got another feisty one in here, huh?” He crosses his arms under his chest, and you can’t help but note the way his muscles flex at the gesture, his tattoos dancing slightly on his skin. “What makes you so smug about stealing my spot? Reckon Ronnie only said he needed more chicks hanging around.”

“If that’s the case then there’s no need for you to be intimidated by a band of chicks, then.” You keep your eyes trained on his, but you can notice Abbey’s getting wider from over his shoulder.

His lips twitch up, and you can tell he’s holding back a genuine smile as not to crack your act. “Am I intimidated now, bunny?”

“It’s what it looks like.” You shrug, now holding back your own smile.

“Maybe you need to take a better look at things then, angel.” He starts walking backwards in the direction of the backstage. “Wouldn’t want any more misunderstandings, would we?”

“Don’t think we would.”

And with that, he turns around, walking the rest of the way out and disappearing as he rounds the corner to where you know it’s the door leading to the back alleyway. You just stand there quietly for a moment, following his steps as you try to recollect what just happened. For the two of you, it was clear that the tension was the product of an unspoken want circling around, but you question for a second if that’s the impression that your friends had. And as you look at their expressions, raised brows and mouths agape, it’s hard to tell.

“Holy shit, babe.” Abbey is the first to speak out. “Didn’t know you had that in you.”

You hold back a relieved exhale, shrugging slightly as you remove the strap of the bass from your shoulder. “He was just getting on my nerves.” You face away from her, placing the instrument on the stand.

The anticipation of meeting Harry grows impatiently on your stomach as you try to find a gap where no one’s attention is on you to sneak out of the dressing room. It seems as if every time you think you can do it, someone pulls you in, either to try to push you another pill of something you’re not sure what it is or to ask you to help with their makeup. But as the room gets filled and people get higher, their focus become more diffuse, and finally, after finishing assisting Jaz with her eyeliner (her hands were too shaky to get it right) you manage to slip out the room into the corridor.

There’s a sense of recognition that takes over your body when you feel the wind messing with your hair as you step out the building to be met with Harry’s figure leaning back on the wall, not too far from the spot you found him the last time you’d been in this same position. His eyes shoot in your direction as soon as you step through the door as if he’d been waiting for this just as eagerly as you were. He quickly throws the butt of the cigarette on the floor, stepping on it before standing tall as you slowly approach him.

“Hi.” You say simply, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shorts -- not knowing with to do with your hands.

“Hi.” His grin grows. “Came back here to intimidate me?” He teases, biting on his bottom lip.

“Actually,” you scrunch your lips, deciding to play his game as you reach on your back pocket, retrieving the small piece of paper and holding it up. “Got this very desperate note from a secret admirer but I don’t see any hotties here.” You click your tongue, looking around as you let out a loud sigh. “Guess it might be just a misunderstanding.”

He laughs, hands reaching for your waist to draw you closer. “That’s too bad, guess you’re stuck with me”

“Yeah?” You wrap your arms around his shoulders, stepping closer so that your chests meet and his forehead falls against yours.

He nods in response, your noses brushing gently before he leans to meet your mouth with his own.

❁ ❁ ❁

There’s a thrilling feeling that settles deep within you when it comes to holding a secret.

It’s that spark of excitement that brings a kaleidoscope of butterflies to come alive on your stomach. The kind of feeling that makes every cell of your body feel not just simply alive but as if it’s burning with joy. Which is why you guess falling into a routine of sneaking around with Harry on secret little rendezvous was so easy, to begin with.

Of course, your friends’ opinions are important to you, but you know that you’re an adult very much capable of making your own decisions. That means sleeping with anyone you’d like despite their ill opinions about the person, without having to sneak around as if you’re teenagers hiding from your parents. You know that, and you try to remind yourself of that every time you catch yourself lying to them about your whereabouts at every coming day.

In the beginning, you weren’t even sure that there was anything to it except for a couple of innocent kisses, maybe some not-so-innocent touches here and there, but nothing really worth even telling anyone. You’d only really see Harry on the weekends. When he would steal moments with you before your gigs when you “had to take a breather”. Or when mysteriously disappeared from your friends’ sides during after parties after they already had their minds buzzed and noses backed up. Or even when your night walks would tart becoming gradually longer due to your curiosity getting the best of you once you found yourself in front of the familiar Pub on Harry’s nights.

The weekends’ escapades took a different turn when they graduated to weekdays. Things took a quick turn then. It started with him offering you a ride to the houses for your tutoring or to the library (stealing kisses every now and then, of course). And before you knew, you were making up classes or books to rent for your oblivious roommates, only to spend hours on Harry’s car. Coming back with puffy lips and messy hair.

Part of you felt bad for going behind their backs, every now and then feeling an urge to pull Lena aside and gush about him for as long as your heart desired.

But it’s the thrill of it, of having something that’s just yours to have, that no one else knows except the two of you. The adrenaline that comes with the possibility of getting caught at any moment, but being able to get away with it. It’s almost addicting to you, so you prefer to have these moments just to yourself.

As the days went by, and those days turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into months, it just made it harder for you to tell them you’d been hiding a whole relationship for this amount of time. Well, not exactly a relationship, but as close as you ever got to one anyway.

And it’s not like you’d never had anyone before. Being in the music scene, you’ve had your quite a few amounts of flings — even though not as many as it’s expected. But no one has ever left you as enamored as him, especially not as quickly as he has. He’s intriguing, carrying around that mysterious aura around him that leaves everyone wondering the secrets he holds in his heart.

Although when it’s just the two of you it’s like this cocky persona of him completely dissolves. It’s a complete contrast from the image he carries around the restless mouths of prying people. He’s not that enigmatic heartbreaker who hops around strangers beds as if to live that classic Rock ‘n Roll lifestyle you see on TV. Rather, he’s shown himself to be the most caring man you’ve ever been with.

And that’s how you found yourself in this position, your body awkwardly positioned on your side in the rear seat of his car. A hand tangled on his hair while the other pulls at his Bowie shirt, you know your lips are probably starting to get swollen and his are taking a raspberry tone from the way they’d been sucking at one another. So with that in mind, you part from his mouth, trailing kisses along his cheek, and a final one at his nose before sitting back on the seat.

Just as you predicted his rose-colored lips are plump as he grins back at you, his locks are wild on top of his head. His hair has grown around his jawline now, curls poking out in all directions and you can’t help but reach your hand to pull his fringe back from his forehead. His smile growing fondly and eyes fluttering shut as you run your hand through his strands.

When you pull away you catch a glimpse of your wrist clock, cringing slightly at yourself as you realize you should start thinking of heading home.

“I have to go soon.” You let your hand fall to your lap with a sigh.

“Already?” He pouts. “Barely had any time together.”

“We’ve been here for two hours, silly.” You giggle at his dramatics, leaning to press your lips on his chin.

He throws an arm over your shoulder, keeping you close. “Exactly, barely any time.”

He turns his head to connect your mouths once more before pulling you against him so your head rests on his shoulder. You look beyond the glass of the windshield to the nearly empty street -- saving from a few people walking back from what you assume is a day of work

He’s parked on the usual spot two blocks away from your house, and from this angle, you can see the front gate that leads to the entrance. The front seat of the coupe still folded forward as there was no reason to set it back to place considering the circumstance in which you were on the backseat. You had called home from the payphone in front of the library, letting Lena know you’d be home late to catch up with some studies -- another lie to your pile.

There’s a comfortable silence that falls between the two of you -- apart from the low voice of the radio Dj interrupting A-ha’s Take On Me in the background. If you move your head just right you can hear his speeding heartbeat, and if wasn’t for the faltering on his breathing you’d assume he was just as relaxed as you are. You move away from him, his arm falling around your waist, looking at his profile as he pokes at his jeans, a crease between his eyebrows.

You rest your cheek against the leather seat, grasping his chin with your fingers and gently moving his head so his gaze meets yours. “What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He breathes out a laugh, shrugging lightly as he brings his hand to scratch at the tip of his nose. “Nothing much.”

“But there’s something.” You insist, being able to tell he’s pondering over something.

“It’s just-- I just thought--” he pauses with a sigh. You play with the rings on his fingers, waiting patiently for him to express his thoughts, you can tell he’s a bit nervous which is an adorable change from his regular charming demeanor. “I wanted to maybe-- like, we could have a date.”

You straighten your posture, lips parting as you take in his words. “A date?”

“Yeah… A proper one, you know?” He shrugs, eyes darting back on yours. “If you want to, that is! Don’t wanna pressure you or anything.”

“I do, H.” You nod, chewing on your lip as you try to recollect your thoughts. It’s not as if you don’t want to go on a date with him, that couldn’t be further from the truth. But turning it into a formality just changes completely the scheme of things and, as much as you felt like this is an inevitable step to take at some point, you still feel protective to an extent of this secret you have between the two of you. So you can help but let your voice come a little apologetic, “it’s just--”

“I know.” His shoulders drop and you can’t help but feel a tug at your heart.

“Hey.” You caress his cheek. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay.” His lips perk up in a small smile, and you lean forward to give him a peck.

He’s still looking at you with puppy-like eyes and it does nothing to help the heaviness in your heart from turning him down. You lean again this time to spread kisses around his cheek as an attempt to pull a giggle out of him, but you only earn a light chuckle so you seat back tilting your head to look at him with a pluck of your lips. “C’mon where’s my smug rockstar gone?”

“He’s right here.” The shadow of his dimples appears on his cheeks. His voice comes out low and gentle, as if he’s still pondering over what you said earlier, “just toned him down a bit.”

You sigh, trying to rack your brain to another subject that can distract him from it. You catch sight of the slightly smudged end of his eyeliner, and your face lights up as you remember a request you’ve always wanted to bring it up. “Do you want to know something?” Biting back a cheeky grin, you cross your arms under your chin as he looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Should let me do your makeup, so you can be a proper rockstar.”

He lets out a laugh. “Do I need that, now?”

“Mhm, said it yourself, it’s part of the look.”

“Did I say that?” You nod, teeth still biting on your lip. He lets out a breath, contemplating the idea for a second before looking back at you. “Okay then.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Course, could never say no to you even if I tried.” He lets his hand fall on your thigh, rubbing it gently. “On one condition, though.” You arch your brows in question. “Come to my gig tomorrow.”

You face scrunches in confusion. “I always go to your gigs.”

“Yeah but I mean go earlier, like so we can hang out before and stuff.” His finger starts to draw circles on your knee. “So you can do my makeup, too, can go on stage looking all pretty.”

“As if you could ever look anything less than pretty.” You say before sitting back, thinking of his proposal. “You’re asking me to be there early…”

“What? D’you have plans already? Got a boyfriend I don’t know about?” And there it is, the teasing Harry you know.

You shake your head, poking his side playfully. “Oh yeah, maybe I should’ve mentioned him sooner.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes before looking at you, his voice coming down to a pleading tone. “Come, please.”

Before the yes can roll off your tongue you remember that you wouldn’t be alone with him. “What about your band?”

He furrows his brows. “What about them?”

“Well, do they know?”

“They couldn’t care less about us, baby.” He sighs, head falling back on the seat as he moves his hand so it rests on your inner thigh, rubbing a spot in there. “Have no meaning hiding you.”

You can’t hold back the smile that grows on your lips, leaning to press a kiss to his mouth before letting professing in just above a whisper, “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

❁ ❁ ❁

“‘S poking my eye.”

“Shh, quiet.”

“You’re rubbing it too harsh.” Harry grabs your wrist, eyes fluttering open to stare up at you.

“I’m being gentle, you’re just not used to the feeling of the brush.” You argue, keeping a finger under his chin so his head is tilted upwards as you shuffle on his lap. “Now close your eyes, I’m almost done.”

He lets out a huff, trying to feign annoyance, but the slight twitch of his lips and the subtle appearance of his dimples break his facade. You know as much as he won’t admit to it, he’s quite enjoying having you propped on his lap, fingers stroking gently his eyelids while you hum along to The Cure’s record that’s mixing with the murmurs of the other people in the room.

To your surprise, you’ve come to realize that the dressing room is significantly less chaotic when it comes to Harry’s band. The place is not nearly as packed as it can get during your nights, in fact, apart from the band itself, there’s only a handful of people hanging around. And as much as you notice their bloated pupils and stumbled walks, they mostly keep it to themselves, sharing around a bottle of vodka to wash down their pills.

Like Harry had assured you, his bandmates couldn’t be less bothered by your presence amongst them. And as much as you recognize all from the numerous gig you’ve been in before, and that according to them your name has been frequently mentioned by Harry himself (which did make his cheeks turn into an adorable shade of red), it’s nice to be formally introduced to them. In fact, they were so quick to treat you as one of their own that you could feel a slightly guilty feeling expanding on your chest from the number of times you’d heard your friends bad mouthing them in attempts to joke around.

You swallowed the feeling back, though, accepting a plastic cup they poured with champagne (which you learned is a tradition before gigs) and making a conversation.

“Are you done yet?” You feel the vibration of his voice on that back of your fingers that touch against his throat.

“Yes,” you say with a final stroke of your brush on his eyes, sitting back to admire your work with your teeth carved on your bottom lip. “You can open your eyes, baby.”

He blinks his eyes open and you can’t help the smile that breaks through your lips as you examine the contrast of the burning red eyeshadow with his jade irises as he looks back at you. “How do I look?”

You grab his cheeks, leaning down to press a quick peck on his lips. “Like a proper rockstar.”

“Yeah?” He grins once you let your hands caress on the smooth skin of his chest poking through his unbuttoned blue blouse. “Think I can finally get some groupies now?”

Scoffing, you swing your hand to shove him back playfully with a roll of your eyes. You try to move away but he grabs hold of your wrists, pulling you in again. “You’re insufferable.”

“Just how you like it.” His hands fall to your waist, bringing it closer as you let your arms wrap around his shoulders.

His lips meet your on a slow kiss, allowing you to taste the strawberry flavor of the lipstick you’d applied earlier, the thought of messing it completely lost in your mind as you tilt your head to deepen it even more. His fingers now grip on your hips over your denim skirt that has ridden up considerably since you first propped yourself on his lap. For a moment you just stay like this, tangled on each other’s arms, every so often you scratch on his neck, pulling his hair just a bit so you can swallow the most delicious mewls.

He parts from you as slowly as the kiss started, pecking on your lips a couple of times before letting his head fall back, hands moving to rub at your thighs over your pink tights. His eyes are hooded as he looks up at you with a smirk, voice coming low as if he’s sharing a secret just between the two of you, “can we go to the back?”

“Sure.” You unstranddle him, adjusting your skirt as you stand up and offering your hands to help him to his feet. He takes them, almost bringing you back down on the couch as he pulls a little bit too hard.

Once he’s up he takes a look at himself on the mirror in the wall opposite to the couch, a pleased smile on his face letting you know he likes the result of your work. He reaches for your hand then, guiding you into the hallway and out the back door you’ve become so familiar with.

Walking into the alleyway, he walks to his usual spot, leaning back on the wall and pulling you with him. His hands easily find their place on your waist once again, fingers tapping against the fabric of your skirt anxiously. Looking down at you, there’s anticipation on his eyes, as if he’s trying to tell you something but is waiting for you to bring it up.

“So,” he begins, eyes darting around as he parts his legs a bit, enough to fit you between them as he pulls you closer.

“So…” You say, drifting off as a way to encourage him to keep going.

“I’ve thought about the date thing.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his har. “Wasn’t I the one that was supposed to be doing that?”

He shrugs slightly, looking down to where his fingers fiddle with a loose strand of your vest. There’s something very endearing about seeing him so nervous, a complete opposite to how he carries himself in public, as this cocky and confident guy. You’re grateful that he allows you to see this side of him, though, bringing your hand to caress his jawline as you wait him to speak his thoughts. “Yeah, but I had like, an idea, or whatever.”

“Do tell.”

“I thought we could do--” he shakes his head a bit. “We could go to a place that’s still more reserved, and stuff.”

“Like?”

“I dunno, I--” he chews on his lip, a habit he’s starting to get from you. “Thought we could go to my flat and like hang out, we could go to that diner that has a drive tru and get something to eat and go back to my place.”

“Are you trying to take me home, Styles?” You tease, not being able to hold back a smile.

“It’s not like that, I just--” he huffs, cheeks getting a bit flushed as he tries to explain himself. “Just if you’re comfortable with it, of course, we can still go around on my car if you prefer, I don’t mind.”

“Harry?” You hold his cheek, moving it so his eyes can meet yours. Rubbing your thumb against his smooth skin, you try to soothe him, shooting him a fond smile. “I think that’s a really nice idea.”

“Yeah?” You don’t miss the way his eyes light up. “Is that a yes, then?”

“Of course.”

“Cool, I can, like, call you before I leave home so you can go to our spot and I can pick you up, yeah?” It’s the fastest he’s speaking since the moment you walked out of the building, voice a pitch higher. “How about Friday?

“Great.” You giggle, tangling your fingers on his hair to pull him down so his forehead rests against yours. Lips brushing, you blink up at him, jade eyes flickering around your face, “I can’t wait.”

He smiles. “Me too.”

❁ ❁ ❁

An annoyed puff leaves your lips as you notice another typo in one of the words inked in the paper poking out of the typewriter. You grab it maybe a bit too forcefully, this being the fourth time in a matter of minutes you had to do this. Taking it out of the platen, you reach for the whiteout conveniently prompted next to you, carefully correcting the error before putting the paper back on the machine.

With the end of the term peeking around the corner, you’ve been finding yourself in this position more often than not. Either rushing with your essays or grading assignments from your students. No matter what the arrangement is, however, there’s always a guarantee to have a half-empty mug of coffee and a pile of textbooks spattered on your desk.

This time around is no different, as you lean back on your chair, closing your eyes and rubbing your hands over your face, you try to focus on Cyndi Lauper singing in the background as a way to relieve your stress. You can feel the inkling of a headache deep inside your forehead, indicating maybe it’s time to give yourself a break, So, you try your best to relax the tension out of your muscles, breathing in the soft chamomile scent of the burning candle on your nightstand -- it’s one Lena gave to you to help with the stress a few days ago. What disturbs you from your moment of meditation with Time After Time, making you snap out of your breathing exercise, is the ringing tone of the telephone echoing through the house. The sound comes into your room a bit muffled thanks to your closed door, but it’s still enough to irritate you.

You hear closely to the sounds outside your door, waiting for Lena, who you know is propped on the couch downstairs watching TV, to pick up the call and cease the annoying tune interrupting your moment. And as you predict, in just a few minutes the ringing noise stops as quickly as it started, making you relax back on your chair. Closing your eyes again, you let yourself go back to the moment before the interruption, untensing your shoulders. You can hear the pound of heavy footsteps coming up the wooden staircase, but don’t process them getting closer until your door swings open.

Lena is standing in your doorway with an expression that’s hard to read at first, her brows set on a slight frown her hairline and mouth agape. Before you can tell her off for her sudden entrance she’s already speaking, “can you tell me why the fuck Harry Styles is calling our house looking for you?”

You can feel your heartbeat falter at her words, eyes widening as you glance at your bunny-shaped clock and realizing you had gotten so lost in your studies you forgot about the date. “Shit,” you get up so fast from your chair it falls back on the rug. You turn to Lena, who’s watching the scene with the most amused smirk on her face, “is he still one the line?”

As soon as she nods you’re stumbling down the stairs, almost falling down on the last steps but catching yourself up on the railing. You reach for the wired phone lying upwards on the hallway stand, picking it up and walking into the closest door - which happens to be the coat closet - closing it behind you.

“Hello?” You sound out of breath, heartbeat roaring in your ear.

“Did I fuck it up?” His voice is hesitant, nearly remorseful, it makes your heart drop.

“I-- no, you didn’t.” You reassure, leaning back on the wall of the tiny space, instantly regretting your decision of not choosing the restroom in your panic state. “I just got caught up with an essay and didn’t see the time passing.”

“Do you want to reschedule?” He drags out the words as if he doesn’t want to say them. “We can do this another day, I don’t mind.”

“No!” You protest quickly, reaching back to roughly adjust a hanger that’s poking on your neck, causing a raincoat to fall on your feet. “Of course not, I really need a break, anyway. I want to see you.”

“Want to see you, too.” You can hear the smile on his voice. “What about your friend?”

You sigh, rubbing your temple slightly. “I’ll talk to her, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” He says. “I’ll be at yours in around fifteen, is that good?”

“That’s perfect, yes.”

“I’ll see you in a bit then…” He drifts off, as if he wants to say something else, but stops himself.

“See you.”

The familiar sound of the deadline takes place and you sigh, letting your head fall back on the wall with a thump and staying like that for a moment. When you step out of the closet, the first thing you see is Lena leaning against the railing of the stairs, shaking her head at you in disbelief. “You bitch.”

Your shoulders drop, not wanting to have this conversation right now, as you put the phone back on the base. “Can we not do this--”

“You’ve been fucking him all this time and you didn’t tell me?” She crosses her arms under her breasts. “Abbey is gonna throw a fit when she knows this.”

“You’re not gonna tell her.”

“I’m not.” She agrees with you. “But she already knows you’re sneaking out with someone.”

“She does?” Your voice gets higher, eyes widening slightly.

“She might be high as a kite most of the time, yes, but she’s not stupid.” She chuckles. “And you’re not the best at hiding either, or you thought we wouldn’t notice you’re barely at home anymore?”

You frown your mouth, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. “Does she suspect that it’s him?”

“Not really no, thought it was one of your students.”

You can’t help the horrified look that takes over your face. “I tutor children!”

“Ooh,” she breathes out a laugh. “Well, to be fair, he’s probably the last person she would suspect.”

“She’s gonna kill me.”

“Probably.” She shrugs. “But she’ll just have to get over it.”

“I guess.”

Lena looks at you, dropping her arms as she walks to you. Holding into your shoulders, her expression softens. “Don’t worry about this right now, okay? Go get ready for your date.”

“You’re right.” You sigh, nodding. It takes you a second, but as you process her words, you frown, squinting your eyes at her. “How do you know we have a date right now?”

Her hands drop, mouth scrunching as she waves her hands around. “I just guessed.”

“Were you listening on the line?’

“Of course not!” She steps away.

“Adeline!”

She backs away, reaching the bottom of the stairs with the guiltiest look you’ve ever seen splattered on her face. “It was just a bit of it! I was curious!”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I’m gonna cut the cord of that phone in your room.”

“No, you’re not.”

Raising your eyebrows in challenge, you take a careful step in her direction, causing her to go up another step. There’s a beat of silence where you two just stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. When you finally give in, racing towards the staircase, she stumbles up the rest of the steps, the sound of your giggles mixing together taking over the space.

❁ ❁ ❁

There’s an instant sense of comfort when you see Harry’s lime green Ford parked on your usual spot, one that gives an extra pep to your walk, pushing all the stress you’ve been dwelling with to the back of your mind. And as you relax into the leather seat, windows down and radio up, you let yourself enjoy the anticipation of spending the rest of your day with him that settles deep in your stomach.

You’d always wondered what Harry’s apartment would look like, imagining his LP’s splattered across the place, along with loose papers filled with guitar riffs and song lyrics. Maybe a couple of plants here and there, from what he told you he had tried to take care of one or two before, but always ended up forgetting to water them on schedule. And there’s also a notion inside of you that two young men living together in an apartment are bound to live in somewhat of a nest, so you brace yourself for the piles of beer cans and video game wires tangling on the floor.

When he opens the front door for you, letting you walk in before him, it does surprise you to find a tidier place than you’d expected his living room to be, but you realize you’d not been much far off with your assumption. It’s clear this is a house of musicians from the second you step in, the first sight being two guitars leaning on the wall next to the mud green couch, surrounded by - you guessed it - loose papers, which you assume are filled with scribbled ideas. A wall piano also stands out across the room, a single ashtray standing on top of it next to two candles, where you assume comes the faint scent of vanilla comes from.

“Sorry about the mess,” Harry speaks out from behind you, shrugging out of his usual denim jacket and throwing it over the couch arm, looking back at you with his hands on his hips.

“It’s alright.” Your teeth sink on your bottom lip as you take in the sight of him. Without his jacket, he’s left with just a wine-colored half-buttoned blouse, sleeves rolled up to his elbows so some of his tattoos are exposed. Part of the hem is tucked inside his low waist jeans that hug his thighs so perfectly it makes you want to grip your nails on it. Shaking your head, lightly, you let your eyes wander around the room once more, so he doesn’t notice you gawking at him. “Was expecting worse, to be honest.”

“Do you think that little of me?” He feigns offense.

You giggle, taking a lazy step towards him, shrugging. “I just don’t expect two young men to know the basic of cleaning, that’s all.”

“That’s fair,” he chuckles, taking a moment to just look at you. When a silence settles between the two of you, you raise your brows at him, waiting for him to make the first move. He clears his throat, running his hand through his hair. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Sure!” You nod. “Do you have, like, beer or…”

“Yes, yes I--” he stops, face lighting up in realization. “No wait, I have something better.” He strides towards a door to where you assume the kitchen is, calling over his shoulder, “make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back!”

You laugh to yourself, shaking your head as you pull your purse off your shoulder, letting it rest beside Harry’s jacket on the couch. Glancing over your shoulder, there are no signs of him coming back, so you take the opportunity to snoop around the area.

There’s a small center table in front of the couch, probably the messiest part of the room so far, a few movie magazines splattered around with another ashtray lying on top of it, a few butts of cigarettes long forgotten along with their ashes. Next to it, is a VHS cover of </i> Ghostbusters, a rental receipt paper scrambled on top of it. What calls your attention is a couple of cassette tapes, some with titles you recognize from being Harry’s songs scribbled on top of them but others don’t have a label, which leads you to assume they must be blank.

You walk around the table, gazing to the tv stand, where a poster of Freud is stuck on the wall behind it -- and breathing out a laugh as you notice someone had drawn glasses and colored his beard with a red sharpie. A bookshelf stands next to it, completely filled with records (apart from a single succulent that has a piece of paper with the name “Ziggy” glued to it). Your curiosity gets the best of you, picking up some LPs on random and what does surprise you, is the lack of a common theme between them. Finding a bit of everything, from some very recognizable names you’ve seen Harry rock to, like Billy Joel and The Clash, to some you’d never even heard him speak of like Culture Club and even a brand new Madonna record.

You have just picked up the cover of Ladies of the Canyon when his voice startles you from behind. “Mitchell, huh?”

Turning back with the record still in hands, you look down at it. “I love her.” You glance up, taking notice of the glasses in his hand, filled with a liquid of a yellow so bright it reminds you of a highlighter. “What’s this?”

“This,” he hands you a glass. “Is a drink we made.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “You made this?”

“I’m a man of many talents, bunny.”

“It looks like poison.” You bring the glass up to your nostrils, taking in the strong scent of alcohol. “Am I going to be poisoned? Is this a big plan to get rid of your rival’s bassist?”

“Stop being silly.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s mainly pineapple and vodka, takes weeks to be done, proper fancy stuff, you know?”

“Oh yeah super fancy.” You tease, chewing on your bottom lip to hold back a smile.“Pineapple and vodka.”

“Shut up and drink it.” He says, watching you carefully as you slowly bring the brim of the glass to your lips, taking a small sip of it. An instant sweet taste of pineapple invading your tastebuds, but the vodka is so present it makes you scrunch your nose. Harry gives you a small smile, eyes trained on you as he waits for your verdict, “so…”

“It’s strong.” Your face is still a bit rumpled from the alcohol, but you relax it eventually taking another sip of it, this time quite more prepared for it. “But it’s good, tastes like pineapple and vodka, who would say?”

“Shut up.” He chuckles, taking a step back and propping himself down on the couch.

With the record still in hands, you turn to put it back where you found it, admiring the full bookshelf once more. “Got a nice collection here, Styles, I gotta admit.”

He sips on his drink. “Found something you fancy in there?”

“A couple.”

“Put on something you like.” He motions to the record player standing next to the shelf. You look through the vast collection again, picking some at random and putting it back once you realize it’s not what you’re looking for. After going through a few, you finally stumble upon Elton John’ Madman Across The Water, holding it up to show it to Harry. “Oh, so we’re in one of those moods?”

You pull the vinyl from the sleeve, carefully placing it on the player and adjusting the needle over it. As the beginning note of Tiny Dancer float through the room, you look back at him. “What mood?”

“Like, a happy-sad kind of mood.”

You nod, setting yourself on the couch next to him. “That’s a nice way to put it.”

As the first few songs swim in the air around there’s a light chatter that settles between the two of you. Nothing out of your ordinary conversations, mainly consisting of you gushing over John Taylor as Harry rolls his eyes and sips on his drink to mask the drop of jealousy that grows on his chest -- “He’s not that good looking, you lot should have better standards” he said with a huff, making you giggle at his antics and pinch his cheeks. But it doesn’t take long, barely going halfway through the record, until the two of you begin to feel more lightheaded, eyes glossy and tongues getting looser. You should’ve expected that from the very first sip of the drink in your hand, knowing it wouldn’t take much more than a glass of it to get you right boozed up. And it doesn’t help that which each sip of it the sweetness of the pineapple takes over the strong taste of the alcohol, and in a matter of a few songs, you already feel your mind soaring away.

Harry is not much different, you realize, becoming quite a bit of a giggly drunk as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes and slurred words coming out of his mouth (which only makes him laugh more at himself). From what he told you, it hasn’t been the first time he and Mitch attempted on making the drink themselves. They tried it at a cramped bar right outside a Tears For Fears concert and it had gotten them so knackered so quickly they went back the next day to ask the barman (who also happened to be the owner) what was it in. Turns out it was just watermelon and vodka, but the man also explained that the technique he used that took about two weeks for the drink to be ready. From the man’s explanation, it seemed simple enough so they decided to try it for themselves, except they replaced the watermelon with pineapple.

“Just to add a bit of fun to it.” He shimmies his body.

“Is it like the original, though?”

“‘S close, but not quite his.” He hiccups. “I’m convinced he left out some of the details, the bastard, didn’t want to go around giving out the secret formula of it.”

You giggle, biting into the brim of your glass. “I’m curious to try it with watermelon, now that you’ve mentioned.”

“You have to, bunny!” His head falls back on the couch, dimples so deep you want to bite into them, his hand strokes lazily on your thigh, every now and then moving up to rub at the hem of your playsuit. “I’ll take you there sometime, we can get baked and crash into a concert at the music house that’s right in front of it.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

When the blue of the sky outside begins to fade into a golden glow, ribbons of pink and orange cutting through it, you’re already completely far gone. The record player is now only letting out a faint buzz from the lack of sound now that the LP is over. Your head is filled with clouds and you don’t register when Harry reaches back for the guitar, only really registering it once he’s stringing out a familiar melody. He stumbles with the lyrics but as soon as you recognize the beginning line of </i> Big Yellow Taxi you’re joining him, your voices tangling in a high pitch as you more of scream the lines than really bother to sing it. Harry gets completely lost in it, and you let him take over every so often just to watch him, mimicking Joni Mitchell's voice and even enacting her laugh, which makes you laugh until your belly hurts and your cheeks get flushed.

It’s one of those moments you want to get locked in, to live in it forever. Watching him stumbling the lyrics of different songs, the words tumbling out of his mouth between giggles, fingers stroking the cord of the guitar maybe a bit too harshly as you join him without a care in the world to who may be bothered by it. You feel so free with him, it’s a feeling that takes over your whole body, a warmth of knowing you don’t have to filter yourself or fit any type of expectation. And as he ends another cover with violent strokes on the guitar you laugh along with him for a moment before letting the room quiet down. Crossing your arms over the back of the couch and resting your cheek against it, you just look at him.

His bloodshot green meets yours, his chest rising as he catches his breath from the frantic songs, teeth sinking on his bottom lip as he smiles at you. “Gonna slow down a bit fo’ you.”

You raise your brows at him, smiling in anticipation as he begins to smooth his fingers through the cords much more gently than he had been previously. His head moves along to the beat as he gazes down at the instrument, a slight crease forming between his eyebrows in concentration. It’s a complete contrast from the playful demeanor that had taken over the room just minutes ago.

“Love of my life, you’ve hurt me.” He begins, and your ears instantly perk up as you identify the same song you’d heard him play months ago at the pub, the one that made you enter it to watch him for the first time. “You’ve broken my heart and now you leave me.”

It’s much different now, however, not just from the fact that he’s singing it on his own without the band backing him up. But it’s the meaning behind it, the rawness of his voice, low and slightly raspy, the words still come out a bit mumbled but you couldn’t care less about it, only focusing on the emotion he puts to them.

“Love of my life, can’t you see?” His eyes are still set on the guitar and you search for them almost desperately, shifting closer to him and cupping his cheek, guiding him to meet your gaze. “Bring it back, bring it back, don’t take it away from me.”

The swell in your heart is overwhelming to an extent, his glossy eyes looking into your with such sincerity it makes you want to jump on him, but you hold back as he keeps going, feeling nearly hypnotized by his voice.

“Because you don’t know, what it means to me.” He leans into your touch, turning to press a quick kiss on your palm as he keeps stroking the chords in a quiet melody. “Love of my life, don’t leave me.”

You can’t help but shake your head slightly as he sings the lyric almost like a plea. “You’ve stolen my love, and now desert me.” He looks back down at the guitar, letting your hand fall to his shoulder. “Love of my life, can’t you see?”

“Bring it back, bring it back, don’t take it away from me.” Peeking under his lashes, he grins up at you, and you can only imagine how you must look to him. Mouth slightly agape, barely blinking as you’re scared if you do this will all turn out to be nothing but a dream. His voice comes out next a bit lower, stretching out the words, “Because you don’t knoow.”

He strokes the chords a bit mindlessly now, playing with the sound of the melody, and he does it so effortlessly you almost hold your breath as not to miss it. “What it means to me.”

When he stops, you don’t really think before latching yourself on him, throwing one leg on each side of his thighs, and cupping his face before meeting his mouth with yours. He immediately wraps an arm around your back, his other hand taking the guitar off his lap and blindly placing it against the wall next to the couch. Once the instrument is no longer a barrier, he places his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. You can taste the memory of a pineapple still lingering on his tongue as you lick into his mouth. The kiss is hungry, maybe a bit sloppy thanks to the substance still very much present in your bloodstreams, but you don’t mind, only moving a hand to tangle on his hair, scratching at his scalp before pulling at his roots.

A whimper escapes from his mouth, getting lost inside your throat, his grip on your thighs tightens, nails digging in it and you know will leave crescent shapes on your skin. It only makes you do it again, this time his head tilting backward with a small groan, disconnecting your lips, but you’re soon to connect it again, splattering kisses along his jawline until it meets his neck. When you suck on his pulse point, running your tongue over it, his skin vibrates on your lips as he lets out a whine. His hands are now running all over your thighs before resting on top of your ass, bringing your hips to grind against his.

Even with your hazed mind, it’s still hard to miss the very prominent bulge under his jeans. It makes you pull back, looking down to see it straining against his zipper. There’s a flip of a switch inside of you when you realize how much he’s yearning for it, it’s the desire you’ve been pushing back for months now, crashing into you like a wave and you can barely contain a small mewl at the sight.

“Bunny.” He breathes out. When you look back to him, you notice his eyes have darkened considerably. “We don’t have to--”

“Please.” You let your forehead fall against his, rolling your hips again, stealing another whimper from him. “If you want to, I want to.”

“I do -- fuck, I do.” He nods as you keep grinding on him, his hand disappearing on your back pocket, trying to get as closer to you as possible.

When you meet his lips again, the kiss is somehow eager than before. The longing is evident as you grab onto each other. Your hands travel down his chest, nails digging softly on his exposed skin, and once you feel the fabric of his shirt, you’re quickly to undo the rest of the buttons, not disconnecting from him as you do so. Smoothing your hands back up to his shoulders, you help him shrug off the material, letting it fall to the couch without paying mind to it.

“Wait,” he sneaks between kisses, hands coming up to your waist you push you off gently.

You watch with your brows narrowed as he gets up from the couch, walking to his shelf and standing in front of it, looking for something. Leaning to your side, you let yourself admire the muscles of his back as his fingers run through the edges of the records. It’s impressive how even though his collection takes over the whole furniture, he still seems to know exactly where to look for it, focusing on a small section right at the top. He quickly finds what he’s looking for, pulling it with a ‘Aha!’ before turning back to you.

He holds up a very familiar black cover, the imprint of Queen’s Greatest Hits instantly calling your attention. Doing the same as you’d done earlier, he takes out the disk, placing it on the player before adjusting the needle over it. You watch it with a smile teasing on your lips, finding oddly endearing how he made you pull away from him with the sole purpose of putting on a soundtrack -- making notice to put on something you’d like, as well. He cranks up the volume as the first words of Bohemian Rhapsody start to swallow your thoughts, turning back to you and offering his hand with a cheeky grin painted on his face.

Taking his hold, you let him pull you up from the couch and, before you can really register it, he’s guiding you through the hallway. You stumble on your footing as he rushes a bit to fast for you to really wrap your head around it, the walls of the corridor passing by almost in a blur as it takes your mind a beat too long to catch up with your eyes. Still, your giggles dance along with his all the way to his door at the end of it, making you feel like a couple of teens sneaking out for the first time.

He doesn’t give you a single minute to take notice of his room -- not that you would at this moment, your arousal pooling at your underwear only enhancing the haziness of your mind. In just a speck of a second, he’s already pushing the door closed, your body being pressed against it not long after. His arms find their place on each side of your head, his lips searching hungrily for yours as your fingers find their home between the strands of his hair once more.

“Shit, need you so bad, baby.” he presses his hips against yours, mouth hot as he sucks in the skin of your jaw, all the way down your neck, finding a spot that makes you whine under his touch. “That’s it, darling, let me hear you again.”

“Harry,” you mewl as his teeth sink on your skin gently, his tongue swiping quickly over the spot before he trails back to your cheek. You melt under his touch when his hands find their way back on your body, one of them caressing the side of your breast softly, thumb poking out to rub the spot where you nipple pebbles under your layers of clothing. This brings out a desperate whimper from your throat, your head falling back on the door as you close your eyes, trying to savor every slight touch of his. “Please.”

“Look so fucking pretty in this piece, bunny.” The sound of his voice is right below your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin making the hairs on your neck rise. “Look gorgeous in anythin”” he turns his head to bite at your earlobe. “But I really need it gone right now.”

Your eyes snapback open when you feel him pull back from you, his hands finding the front buttons of your playsuit, fiddling them open so easily you barely register it. His lips are back on yours, this time slower, letting his desire be known at every brush of his tongue. Smoothing his hands on your shoulders, he helps you out of the sleeves of the top. As soon as your back is disconnected from the wooden door, you start moving forward before you can really think about it, pushing him back gently until the back of his knees hit the mattress and he’s sitting back on the bed.

There’s hardly a speck of green left on his darkened irises when he looks up at you, watching your every move as you shift the material down your body, letting it pool on your feet before you kick it to the side. Taking a slow step towards him, his hands holding onto your hips almost unconsciously, you reach back to find the hook of your bra, but he stops you before you can even quite grasp it. “Wait,” he pulls you closer, making you fall a bit awkwardly on his lap, your hands moving to grip on his shoulder for support. “Let me.”

You adjust your position on top of him, your knees resting next to his thighs, as he handily unhooks your bra, removing it quickly from your arms and tossing it to the side. A gasp escapes your mouth as he wastes no time before attaching his mouth to your breast, tongue circling on your nipple before sucking in. His hand tries to give the same attention to the other one, grasping onto it as his thumb caresses the pebbled nub.

The crescendo of the song comes muffled in the background and it’s as if it’s echoing inside your head while you mindlessly roll your hips against his. The motion makes the lining of his zipper rub deliciously against your clit under the thin fabric of your underwear, and it reminds you of his hardening length pressing on his jeans. It seems to remind him as well, as his mouth parts from your chest in a groan, his lips licking at the space between your breast, kissing all the way back to your neck, where he hides his face with a strangled moan when you grind down a bit harder.

“Can’t take the tease, baby.” He pants. “Need you right fucking now.”

You pull back from him, gazing down at the tent on his pants and bringing your hands to fiddle with his belt. It takes you a bit longer to manage to pull it out, as his eager lips attack your neck once again. At this point, you can only imagine the marks he’s made on your skin, knowing the reddened spots will soon come to a purple shade, but it’s the least of your worries as you pop the button of his jeans, opening up the zipper.

“Stand up just for a sec, darling.” He taps on your hip and you do as he asks, stepping back to plant your feet on the floor.

He shifts out of his pants, bringing his briefs along with it and you watch the way his cock all but jumps out of its restrains, slapping back on his stomach. The tip is a reddened shade darker, a trace of precum already oozing out of it, dripping down his length and making you rub your thighs for some sort of relief as you feel your mouth watering. You want to reach for it, grasp it as you feel it throb on your palm. You want to trace the prominent veins adorning it with your tongue and discover all the sounds he makes when he’s all but begging for you to wrap you mouth around it already. But more than anything, and what speaks louder to you at the moment, is how you want to feel it deep in your belly, rubbing against your walls until your legs shake.

“My eyes are up here, love.” You look up at him, a smug grin on his face as he draws you in by your hips.

“Can’t help it.” You watch his fingers play with the waistband of your cherry colored underwear, meeting his eyes as you let yourself mess with him a bit. “Just have such a beautiful cock.”

“Christ.” He groans, yanking your panties down your leg, making your arousal drip down your thighs. His lips immediately trace on your pubic bone, hands travelling to grip on your ass as his teeth sink into your skin slowly. “Didn’t know you were this filthy, bunny.”

You enlace your fingers on his strands, pushing his fringe away from his forehead as you mount him again. “Only for you.”

“All for me? What did I do to deserve you?” He smiles, pecking your lips and pulling your closer so you can feel his cock poking at your stomach. “Why don’t you lie down for me?”

You shake your head, pushing his shoulders back gently until his back hits the mattress. “You lie down.”

“Shit, baby, gonna sit on my cock?” He shifts back just slightly, watching you sit back on his thigh as you grab his length, giving it an experimental pump that makes his breath audibly hitch. “Fuck-- such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

You chew on your bottom lip, flickering your palm over the tip and collecting a bit of the precum before rubbing it once more. He lets out a strangled moan, head tilting back on the mattress, his curls splattered around him like a halo. Which is an ironical contrast to what you’re doing to him.

His voice comes out in a breathy, chest moving frantically as he peeks down at you when you give him another slow pump. “Please, darling, don’t torture me right now, need you so bad.”

If it were another occasion you wouldn’t listen to him, simply continuing your teasing as if he hadn’t said anything at all. But right now you can feel your wetness pooling where you sit on his thigh as you all but throb for him at the sight of his angry cock in your hand. It’s just as much torture to you as it is to him to keep this going any longer, so you just shift up, gabbing his base and rubbing it along your folds one, two, three times, before finally aligning it with your entrance.

His nails dig on your thighs in anticipation, his eyes watching with barely a blink as you slowly sink down. Your mouth hangs open but nothing except a choked gasp comes out of it. There’s a delicious burn that comes with him slowly spreading you open for him, and when you fully sit down your eyes are teary and can’t help but clench around him, earning a full moan in response.

“So fucking tight.” He pants, chest moving up as he takes a sharp inhale when you clench again. “So wet too, baby, drenching me.”

“Fuck, Harry.” You lean forward, hands lying on each side of his torso as you pull up the tiniest bit just to sink down again.

You want to start slow, gradually fastening your pace but you can’t seem to hold yourself back. As his hands grasp on your hips you start to bounce on him at a hard pace, your moans meshing together as well as the faint vocals blasting outside the closed door. Rolling your hips on his, he hits spot that makes you sit on your heels again as you throw your head back, crying out his name.

It’s hard to keep focus as you mind is blurry from the pleasure that takes over every cell of your body as well as the alcohol still running freely on your bloodstream. All you can focus on right now is Harry. It’s his hands gripping on your skin, helping you fasten your pace. It’s the sound of his voice pitching on a needy whimper, telling you how good you feel around him. It’s the sight of his face creased in pleasure when you look down at him, the veins staining his neck and his locks sticking to his damp forehead, cheeks rosy and lips plump. He’s the only thing in your mind as you chant his name under your breath like a quiet prayer.

“Is my cock that good, bunny?” He meets your thrusts with his hips, making you sob out a moan. His lips tug on a smirk, “Look at you helping you helping yourself out on my cock -- fuck, look like a proper dream.”

There’s a familiar tightness in your stomach, one that makes your toes curl and your rhythm falters. “I’m almost there, shit.”

“Won’t last much longer too, baby, feel too good.” He groans holding your hips in place when you stumble on your pace again, deciding to thrust upwards, your pelvis meeting in loud smacks. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna let me see you looking all pretty when you cum all over my cock?”

“Harry, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, your eyes closing as you roll back your head. A trifling cramp is starting to set on the back of your thighs but you barely pay any mind to it as the bliss takes over your whole body. You’re so close to your high you can almost reach it, just needing a small push.

“C’mon, baby.” Harry urges you, hand reaching where you’re connected to rub at your clit harshly.

And that’s all you needed, opening your eyes as a couple tears fall down your face when you feel your orgasm taking over you body, the white ceiling feeling far away like an imagine you watch on the television. You’re not exactly sure when Killer Queen started playing, but as the waves of euphoria hit your body, you can hear the guitar solo ringing in your ears, the crescendo of the song only enhancing the thrill of your high as you ride your orgasm along with it.

You practically collapse down on his chest, his hot skin sticking to your body. He’s still panting under you, warm breath hitting your neck as he holds onto your ass, his thrusts coming sloppier as he comes right after you. The sensitivity of your center makes you whine along with his strangled moans when he holds his hips to yours,burying himself in you as he paints your walls white.

For a moment you just stay like this, cheek resting on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat slowing down by the minute blending with the music coming from outside the closed door. His fingertips trace patterns on your bare arm that’s hugging his torso and keeping him close. You can feel your mind getting clearer, not just from the alcohol but from the high of your orgasm. And as the sound of the soft wind knocks against the window glass, you’re almost lulled to sleep just like this.

Harry shifts slightly, you feel his lips pressing on your head before he carefully moves to sit up, letting you fall back on the bed gently. “Mind if I have a smoke, bunny?”

You give him a lazy smile, shaking your head as you look up at him, reaching for his locks that poke wildly on his head. Leaning down, he gives you a quick peck before getting up. Turning to your side, you watch as he looks around the room, finding his briefs thrown by the end of the bed and quickly putting them back on. He grabs the pack of cigarettes along with his lighter and heads towards the window.

Opening up the window, allowing the evening breeze to slip through the crack and dance around the room, he pulls a chair leaning on the wall to sit directly by it. The chair is stacked with colored cushions on top of it - one yellow, one red, and one blue - he throws two of them thoughtlessly on the floor next to it, adjusting the remaining one on his back as he leans down to sit on it. The stool is low enough so he can relax his feet on it comfortably, fingers fiddling with the lighter for a second before rising it to meet the end of the cigarette resting between his lips. Freddie Mercury still sings loudly in the living room, the sound coming a bit muffled thanks to the closed door, but making it as background noise as you come quiet to admire his figure against the last creeks of sunlight hitting the side of his profile.

You chew on your lip at the scene, wishing you could record it somehow and play it every night before falling asleep. There’s something inherently erotic about having him smoke a cigar just on his underwear, humming along to the tune of the song, right after having you scream his name into his pillow.

The light streak of wind coming from the window breaks you out of your thoughts, making goosebumps rise on your skin as you come to the realization that you’re still sitting naked in his bed. It doesn’t take long for you to find your panties hanging from the edge of the mattress, picking them up to quickly slide them up your legs before you get up to search for your other articles of clothing. You can see the colorful pattern of your playsuit lying next to the closed door, but as you crouch to pick it up something else catches your attention in the pile of clothes thrown around mindlessly on top of a wooden chest

It’s the pink shirt. The same one he wore on the day you first saw him play.

A grin takes over your face as you pick it up, throwing it over your shoulders and sliding your hand on the sleeves. It has the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering smell of cigarettes, something you’ve come to associate with him. You don’t bother to button up the material, letting it hug your body as you take a quick look at yourself in the full-body mirror leaning on the wall in front of you. You turn to him, his eyes still focused on the view outside, a thin coat of smoke leaving his lips and getting lost in the breeze, so you clear your throat as to get his attention.

He looks at you, eyes shamelessly scanning down your body and you’re afraid the cig will fall from his lips as they grow on a smug smirk.

“Look at you,” he lets his feet fall from the stool, fixing them on the floor as he motions for you to get close. You approach him without a second thought, climbing on his lap as his hands hold onto your hips. He takes another look at you, grasping the cigarette with his fingers and taking out of his lips. Reaching for your face, his thumb caresses the side of your eyelid gently. “Looking like a proper rockstar now, even got the smudged makeup.”

You giggle. “That’s more your fault than mine.”

“I guess it is.” He taps the butt of the cig on an ashtray prompted on the stool of the window, eyes still trained on you. “Should do it more often then, s’fucking hot.”

You smile at the connotation, picking at the hem of the shirt and gazing at him from under your lashes. “Guess I might be starting to like pink, that’s also your fault.”

“Look way too good in pink not to like it, bunny.”

“Stop that.” You hide your face on the crook of his shoulder.

“Telling the truth.” His free hand grips on your waist, pulling you closer as he tilts his head to kiss at your neck. “Looks good in everything.”

“Could tell you the same thing.” You pull back to look at him, teeth sinking on your bottom lip as you smooth your hands down his bare chest. “But I do prefer this fit on you, really brings out your eyes.”

“Naughty.”

You lean to connect your lips, hugging him close with your arms wrapped around his neck and enjoying the tender moment as you distribute kisses around his face just to hear him giggle. And when you bring your mouth to his again, you barely feel the softness of his lips before he all but jumps on his skin. You pull back, furrowing your brows, ready to question it but he beats you. “Forgot I got something for you.”

“For me?” You blink. “What is it?”

“Go sit on the bed while I fetch, will be just a minute.” He gives you a quick peck before you’re pulling away.

You do as he asks, sitting back on the bed, right next to the wrinkled spot where you lied just minutes ago. He walks across the room, opening the door where you came from and disappearing in the hallway. The record is still blasting through the apartment walls, sound coming louder now that there’s no barrier between you.

While he’s gone, you take a moment to look around his room, something you didn’t get a chance to do when you first came in tangled on his arms. It’s not much messier than the living room, really, only the small piles of clothes you’ve spotted earlier that give the illusion of an untidy room. There’s a light wooden dresser that sits next to the chest, and from where you sit you can see two candles standing alone on top of it, similar to the ones on the piano.

You swing your feet on the edge of the bed, letting them brush along a blue fluffy mat that hugs the floor underneath it. And as you run your hands on along his mattress, you notice the soft superficie, making you look down at a knitted blanket spreaded across the bed. It’s made of different colored squared stuck together in an oddly comforting pattern. You want to lie down on it, and let yourself be swallowed by the cozyness of the material against your skin, but before you can do so, Harry appears back in the room, closing the door behind him as he makes his way to you.

“This blanket is so nice.” You run your hands through it, smiling at him.

“Thanks, I knitted it.” The information makes your eyes bulge out, you open your mouth to inquire further but he’s already talking again. “This is-- uhm, I dunno, just something I thought you’d like it.”

The small box in his hand catches your attention as he hands it to you, his eyes looking down at it and even with just the moonlight illuminating the room you can see the blush on his cheeks. He props himself down on the spot next to you, watching your fingers turn the rectangular box around. It’s a cassette tape case, you quickly realize.

When you gaze at the back of it, there’s names of songs scribbled behind it. Not many, but a good collection of them, from Fleetwood Mac to The Bangles, and even Billy Joel. And it doesn’t take you long to find a pattern with the song chosen for the tape. Their all love songs. It makes your heart swell even more, if that’s even possible at this point.

“These are so cheesy,” you bite your lip, barely able to contain your smile.

He rolls his eyes. “They’re romantic, bunny.”

You keep examining the titles written neatly in his handwriting, raising your brows when you land on a specific one. “Every breath you take?” You tease, “That’s an interesting take on romance.”

“Shut up.” He giggles, eyes watching you carefully. “Do you like it?” His voice is adorably hesitant, it makes your heart stumble on a beat.

“I love it.” You say in just above a whisper, feeling the butterflies in your stomach get a little more vivid once your eyes land on the last song scribbled in the back of the tape. Somebody to Love. Brushing your thumb over the words softly, careful not to smudge the paint, you look up at him to find his green irises glistening at you. You shake your head almost in disbelief at the tenderness behind the gift. “Did you record this just for me?”

“Uhm yeah some of them I did but—” He looks down, focusing on his fingers as they pick a loose string from the blanket under his leg. “Some of them I just... Sang”

“You sang?” It takes you by surprise, how you thought there was no way he could make you feel warmer.

“Yeah… All of them, actually.” His dimples dig deep on his cheeks as he quickly peeks his eyes at you. “It’s just… The quality is shit when you record it from the radio and the dj keeps interrupting and stuff.” He shrugs, “Thought if I sang it could be more, personal? I guess.”

“I love it.” You repeat.

“You do?”

“I do.” You chew on your lip, watching his eyes glimmering on the dim light of the room. “Is there a reason for this sudden present?”

“Kind of I--” He clears his throat, fully glancing at you. There’s an expectation behind his eyes, you can tell from the way he takes a sharp inhale that he’s nervous. “Thought I make you-- ask you, actually, if you’d be mine?”

You can’t help but giggle at how adorable he looks, your eyes getting a bit glossy as you nod without a blink of a thought. “Of course I’m yours, Harry.”

“Yeah?” His smile grows. “As like, m’girlfriend?”

Throwing your arms around him, you press your lips against his cheek, careful not to drop the tape in your hand still. You pull back, tilting your head as giving him a fond smile. “As in your girlfriend, yes.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #80s!harry #harry styles writing

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lochsides · 3 years

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Yellow Metal - cathartic Review

Here’s something I did not expect to be reviewing this week but when Zayn drops a 24 minute rap track, you fall in line. I had to listen to it a couple times through before I could even begin to make sense of my thoughts because my brain sort of malfunctioned. I have never been prouder to be a Zayn fan. He’s such a nuanced songwriter and there is so much to unpack here.

I think this is the most unfiltered version of Zayn that we have ever been exposed to (and possibly will ever be). I am grateful that he said his piece in this because it needed to be said. As a brown woman, I felt so seen by this and I cannot explain what that means to me. Thank you Z, for your unvarnished truth in addressing racism and various forms of discrimination.

I’m doing a short lyrical analysis below the cut, but the TLDR is that this is a fantastic piece of art that deserves to be heard.

I wish he had released this as an EP because that would be easier to review than a single 24 minute song, structurally speaking. So instead, I have picked out some key lyrics, going from top to bottom, that really spoke to me and decided to study the song that way. His lyricism is hard-hitting in this track. It is beyond anything he has ever released before.

“The planet bleeds, the damaged trees. It’s never leaving until we ascend so fuck the fence.” — I have not seen this lyric being talked about in the fandom, because the lyrics that follow this steal the show, rightly so, but I wanted to give this line a moment because it’s important too. To me, this lyric speaks to where Zayn is at with his relationship with the physical world. He’s out on the farm (about which he even goes to say “tell you what I like, farm life and the tractor”) and I believe he’s happy in his space and he feels connected to nature (also see River Road). So it is a poignant and slightly jaded, but valid perspective that he shares on climate change. It’s never leaving until we ascend. The damage human beings have done to the planet won’t be undone until there are no humans left to do damage. It’s a single sentence that says so much about the depth of the climate crisis. I’m doing my PhD on urban air quality so this is something I care really deeply about and I resonated with.

“And until they stop killing colour, it’s fuck the feds.” — Yeah, agreed Zayn. The systemic racism that he calls out here is echoed throughout the song, in equal parts anger and boldness. I love that he isn’t glossing over it with metaphors, which he could easily do and it would be beautiful in a totally different way, but this makes it harder for racists to overlook. There is so much power in calling it like it is.

“Never lose me to fentanyl, scared when I take a Benadryl, keeping it green in general.” — It frustrates me to no end to see Zayn painted as this drug-addicted lazy musician that doesn’t care about his work, because we know how untrue that is. This narrative is tired and simply boring too, and I won’t get into the racist connotations of it when you consider it against his white colleagues who smoke as much as him but that isn’t one of their defining traits in the media.

“I’m racking up excuses while I’m slacking off on work … it was hard work that got me heard” — I love the juxtaposition in this verse. The public/media perception on his career is that Zayn doesn’t put in effort or that he doesn’t want it. This obviously stems from his leaving the band. It goes back to what I was saying before about narrative, when in reality, as Zayn has said on various occasions, he fights to make his own choices. And that doesn’t have to look the way everyone else expects it to (“I beg you, don’t include me. I might write it on my shirt”), he has his own struggles that have helped forge his path, but it is his path that he paved, himself. He works hard to be heard. He has to. It reminds me of something my parents used to tell me when I was younger about being immigrants: you have to work 10 times harder for the same opportunities just because of the colour of your skin or your name on the cv. It’s a harsh truth to grow up with but it was my reality, as it is for most POC.

“This life doesn’t give you no armour, a lot of myself can harm you. I swear on what’s good, that I’m here ‘til they take me. I pray that I’m wrinkled, at least over 80…” — There is something about the simplicity of these lyrics are the messaging that I love. He isn’t trying too hard to sound poetic but he still manages it perfectly.

“All I've been achieving, clocking miles in this region, moving like a legion. Promise that I made to myself, an allegiance. Do you still believe I’m a fool for ever leaving? Staring at the ceiling, can never put a cap on achieving. I’m just here for the rap, then I’m leaving. // I’ve had about enough of being my own enemy. It’s time I grew up, a long way from 17. Always went against the grain, struggles in my life. Got some things to say when I stand up on the mike.” — This is the only 1D-related lyric I’ll make reference to because this song is about so much more than that. That said though, we cannot overlook Zayn’s experiences in the band because that is part of his story. The tongue-in-cheek of “I’m just here for the rap, then I’m leaving” is hilarious to me. The line about not wanting to be his own enemy anymore and growing up from 17 reminds me of that quote Taylor (Swift) mentioned in Miss Americana about celebrities getting stuck at the age they got famous. I think this verse is similar to that. None of them ever wanted to be in the band and I don’t care what anyone says, Zayn leaving and proving success outside the band gave the rest of them the courage to follow their own solo careers. Sure there was drama surrounding the split but he did it for himself, to tell his stories the way he is now. Whatever else you have to say about him, you cannot deny his authenticity.

“I ain’t dropping this for fame, I need this time, like therapy, it’s just to keep me sane.” — I think this line tells us 2 things, the first being that this song was not leaked. Z knew what he was doing and his twitter likes tell us as much. He didn’t release it for any sort of attention, otherwise it would be widely available on streaming platforms and for purchase. Which leads to my second point, he released this song to get everything he talks about on the track off his chest. Its referenced in other lyrics too, like “now you see where I come from, the world don’t.” This was for whoever cared to listen, not the world. It’s inaccessible for a reason. I love that he threw those lyrics in. It makes the song feel more like a private conversation or listening to a friend rant. It creates a different form of intimacy between himself and his fans.

“Lessons that I’ve learned, I’ve tried teaching to myself. What I’ve learnt from certain people is that they’re better than myself. So I surround myself with real ones, and you feel the plastic melt.” — This one is for anyone that buys into conspiracy theories surrounding Zayn’s personal life. He surrounds himself with real people, real friendships, real connections. I have never bought into the bullshit that he has zero autonomy over his personal life. I love the use of plastic melting as a metaphor for ridding his life of fakeness.

“Feeling trapped. This industry is a cage.” — Zayn is obviously not the first person to say it. Many artists talk about how suffocating the industry is ( which he further comments on in the sung portion: “I don’t wanna be, I don’t wanna be, a part of this, no, I don’t wanna be, I don’t wanna be, a part of this”). Fame is such a wild and unnatural concept and the exploitation and politics of the music industry only feed further into it. The industry being a cage makes me think of zoos and how celebrities are animals on display, when they should be free in the wild. I also really like the musical interlude following this part.

“Nobody’s speaking the truth, I’m offended by the State. Look at the state of the news, I’ve decided the argument, reciting my views.” — Zayn toes the line between keeping to himself and speaking out on important issues, sometimes not very well. I am his biggest cheerleader, but I’m not up his ass. There have been many occasions where he could’ve done better. But I cannot fault him for being offended by the State because same, Z, same. I love that he took this song as an opportunity to real speak out, no punches pulled.

“See I’ve been facing the racists from back when I were a kiddie. Born up in 93’. Living in Bradford City, they kicked me out of the school. Said they had a problem with me hitting the kids that would call me p***, still sit in the classroom, chilling. I’m angry now that I’m older cause I see they treat us different. Got me thinking I’m the problem ‘cause they never dealt with these issues.” — See what I meant about no punches pulled. He said that! He said it like that too. There is so much in this verse that I relate to, it hits a little too deep. I grew up as a brown in predominantly white communities where the colour of my skin was the reason I was outcasted. We know when that’s happening, clear as day. The lyric “got me thinking that I’m the problem cause they never dealt with these issues” says it all. I have many racial traumas that I’m dealing with as an adult because the adults around me when I was a child didn’t deal with racism in the classroom. They do treat us different!

“20 years later, I’m still in the same boat. Tryna treat me like my grandpa, say I came up off the boat. Came to tell you what I stand for. Man I think you’re shit, a joke. How can I be civil when they got me by the throat? // Pushing my feelings down, you ain’t got it like them. ‘Boy your skin is so light.’ Ok motherfucker, take my name up on a flight. Try to convince immigration that your bloodline’s half white.” — Zayn talking his shit is my new favourite art form. How can I be civil when they got me by the throat? Something that I will always be enraged by is that POC are expected to de-escalate situations of racism. We have to push our feelings down, as Zayn says in the verse, because the institution is against us. All of the institutions are against us. The fact that he takes it a step farther to say that his name makes him a target for racism, even though he is half-white just nails his point home. Also, can we please quit the whole ‘Zayn is white-passing’ bullshit. He alludes to it again later in the song (“asian in my face, but still my race you can’t define”). Its not a compliment to erase someone identity in favour of white-washing them.

“My name ain’t on the list unless they label it ethnic.” — Oh, the amount of times we have heard that age old (v. racist) saying ‘{celebrity of colour} is the new [insert white celebrity here]’ as if POC aren’t allowed to succeed in their own right. It is wild to me that Zayn has to deal with this given his level of success.

“Start to understand why they think that I’m threatening. I move in certain ways, couldn’t slow me with ketamine.” — There is a subtle nod to racism (and Islamaphobia) in this line, because of course the brown man is a threat, but I like the way Z turns it around. I also like the rhyme scheme.

“Raised on the benefit for whose benefit? They’ll never learn shit, man, if the shoe fits.” — Okay I might be reaching here, but this is just my interpretation. We all know the benefit system in the UK sucks. Being raised on benefit implies a lack of money growing up, but the benefits aren’t really all that beneficial to the families that rely upon them.

“Dealing with the hurt, they should know cause they don’t deserve it, it hit deep cause I hit the nerve.” — Well, okay then, just call me out. It’s fine. I seriously feel like he’s talking to me directly with this line. I imagine a lot of us do. Its one of those lyrics that are a bit too honest but that why we love them.

“Cathartic, I’m an artist. Trying to put my heart in” // “Freedom fighter, Yellow Metal is my name.” — So do we have an alternate persona for Zayn now? Alright, I’m down. I think these two lines are tied together, because both are mentioned in the song title. (I think of the song as cathartic, by Yellow Metal, aka Zayn, or Yellow Metal as the name of the EP if this was officially released). The lyrics that accompany both title lyrics, along with the subject matter of the song as a whole, suggest that his heart is in standing up against injustices. I said it earlier, this is the most unvarnished version of Z that we have ever been exposed to. Almost like the complete picture to the puzzle pieces we’ve been putting together over the years.

“They’re tryna kill us with disease.” — Why did this line scream out ‘COVID-19 outbreaks in developing countries’ to me? Again, I might be reaching, but there is a disparity between how COVID is treated amongst minorities, along with many other diseases, and not to mention rich, primarily white countries hoarding vaccine supplies while places like India (and my beautiful Bangladesh and I’m sure Pakistan too) suffer needlessly.

“Started something sick and on my mind is what’s next. Just became a dad so now I’m taking all the cheques. Better know I’m staying and paying like it’s debt. Imma get it done, if it’s taking all my breath, sweat, and down I ain’t messing around ’til I’m the best.” — I think this lyric shows off Zayn’s sentimental side more than it does his ambitious side, because we know he’s in this for the long haul. Others may doubt that but his fans never have. But hearing him talk openly about being a father on a song is something else. It’s like Khai added this whole other layer of meaning and purpose to his life and it’s beautiful to watch. I’ve been here since the X-Factor auditions guys!! It makes me so emotional to witness him like this.

“Aint many of me around, p***, I’m just different. Certain stages to this level aint here because fame is to the devil, fuck a label, imma do this from the ghetto.” — God, we’ve been waiting for a fuck the label moment in this house, haven’t we? I won’t get into my theories on his label or his team, but none of us deny the fact that they should be doing more for him than they are. He has the potential to be the biggest thing with the right team and promo because he has a built-in fan base that would go the mile for him. Obviously, there’s also his aversion to promo to contend with and that’s his decision. Even without it, he could shatter every ceiling. Another thing I want to mention about this verse is the nod to the complete lack of South Asian representation in contemporary Western media.

“Don’t know what’s worse: the way that you live your life or the way that you write a verse.” — I’m just putting this in here because it made giggle. Also going to take this space to say how much I love his energy in this song. He knows he’s the shit, as he should!

“Can’t be louder … so free Gaza on my banner.” // “They’re hating on Palestine ways.” — I love that Zayn has always supported this movement, years ago, before being ‘woke’ was a thing. But now, he has a daughter that has Palestinian heritage and I’m sure that makes this hit that much deeper for him, personally. The apartheid in Palestine is heart-wrenching. It’s so strange to me to watch it happen, because I never thought I would witness something like this happening in 2021, yet here we are.

“Like vipers, I see the sly ones, the snake that’s called Biden, none of them abiding what they might put in writing. We should be used to it by now, say whatever for the vote and then just choose another route. Say they’d never kill another unless that brother’s skin is brown. I’m just telling you the facts, if you can’t take it, the truth naked, to bare bones and my thoughts lately, spitting politics.” — This verse is straight up savage and I am living for it! I find it hilarious that he called Biden a snake. This verse addresses the truth about politics, that even electing a left-wing leader doesn’t fix the system.

“I’m Tony Stark, still embarking on a dream” // “Gone green like Bruce Banner” // “He taught me like Ra’s Al Ghul. Felt like living in Gotham, the people were rotten.” — And to tie it all off, I wanted to take a goofy moment to mention all the superhero lyrics Z added in this song, really showing his personality because I’m such a nerd when it comes to this stuff and it makes me wish that we were friends so I could annoy him to death about it.

#reviews #zayn #yellow metal #cathartic #zayn malik

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sapphosclown · 3 years

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Kiss Him You Fool - Willex Oneshot

aka willie and flynn are best friends and she’s done with this mutual pining bullshit. (boys are alive bc i didn’t feel like thinking about ghost logistics today lmao)

so i didn’t get to participate in willex week nearly as much as i wanted to so this is my song fic/au fic (i guess? since the guys are alive? idk) for free day since i didn’t get the idea till last night at 1am. anyways i also didn’t sign up for the gift exchange but i still wanna dedicate this fic to @fairygclds for hosting this week bc she did an amazing job and i love her v much, ty mari <3

title is from Kiss Her You Fool by Kids That Fly, cute song highly recommend

rbs and comments appreciated :)

———

That was real right? He didn’t make that up in his head? That happened. Right?

Willie was abruptly knocked out of their thoughts as his board hit a crack in the sidewalk, sending him onto the pavement, scraping his knee. Although, the stinging did help them snap out of the daze he was in, making him realize that yes, this is real life, and yes, he and Alex Mercer almost kissed.

***

“Stop, you’re not allowed to be that good at everything.” Willie teased as Alex just barely completed a loop around him.

“I feel like we are experiencing different timelines here or something.” Alex let out a shaky laugh as he flailed his arms in an attempt to regain the balance he’d just lost. Luckily, Willie held out their arm for him to grab just in time.

“Come on, you’re doing great! Just need to have a little more faith in yourself.” Willie smiled gently, offering extra support with his free hand.

Alex scoffed. “I think I’m a roller skating kind of guy.”

“Well, I disagree but if that’s how you feel—”

Alex rolled his eyes, making Willies stomach flutter. He helped him off the skateboard and they sat down on the couch in the studio. Willie ignored the fact that despite having the entire couch to themselves, they sat right up against each other, and he especially ignored the way their knees touching made his heart beat faster than normal.

“Actually, I think solid ground is where it’s at.” Alex said, only half-joking.

“I guess, but the wheels add some spice that solid ground could never live up to.”

“Exactly. You know exactly what you’re getting with solid ground. Me and wheels have a complicated relationship.”

“Oh really? You guys have a falling out?” Willie teased.

“Ha, yeah. There was some falling.” Alex gave a sarcastic laugh.

“But that’s the fun part! You can get some pretty rad scars from skating.” Willie pointed out.

“‘Rad?’ What, are you from the 80’s?”

“Listen—” Willie shushed him, shoving his shoulder into him playfully.

They laughed for a moment before falling into a comfortable silence. Willie was really tempted to lay his head onto Alex’s shoulder, or hold his hand.

His hand was right there. It would be so easy... But instead he grabbed their own hand and started messing with their fingers.

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” He asked lamely.

“We’re rehearsing for our gig tomorrow night. Luke and Julie are going over the set list one last time right now but we should be starting pretty soon.” Alex replied, checking the time on his phone before looking back at Willie. “Actually, if you wanna hangout while we rehearse, I don’t think they’d mind.”

“Oh, yeah! That sounds great!” Willie smiled.

“Cool.” Alex nodded, and maybe he was seeing things, but Willie could’ve sworn his cheeks were turning pink. That made him giggle.

“So, what’s the set list then?” They asked curiously. He shifted his body so that he could look at Alex, only mildly upset about the loss of contact, but being able to see the faded pink in Alex’s cheeks made up for it.

“Well, usually we start with Edge of Great, but Julie and Luke wrote this new song that is perfect to open with and I just know everyone’s gonna love it—”

Willie stared at Alex as he rambled on about the show and they couldn’t help the soft smile on their lips. Alex noticed almost immediately and stopped talking, almost embarrassed.

“What?” He asked.

“No, it’s nothing.” Willie said, waving his hand for them to move past it.

“No, I feel like you’re judging me!” Alex giggled.

“No! I’m not judging you!” Willie reassured. “You’re just really cute when you talk about music.” He said softly.

Alex went bright red. “Oh.” He replied in the same tone.

The air around them went quiet again, but this time filled with a different feeling. The feeling that there was nothing else in the world but the two of them. And suddenly their faces were a lot closer than Willie had realized. His eyes flicked down to Alex’s lips subconsciously and then back to his eyes, which he found were doing the same thing. There was nothing stopping him, all he had to do was lean in just a little bit more...

“WHO’S READY TO MAKE SOME MUSIC!” Reggie called excitedly as he entered the garage, making Willie and Alex jump apart. Reggie eyed them suspiciously. “Oh, hey Willie.” He said, eyebrows pulled together like he was piecing together what just happened.

“Hey.” Willie breathed uncomfortably. He felt like he couldn’t get enough air.

“Are you gonna hangout for rehearsal?” Reggie asked.

“Actually, uh, I gotta get going.” Willie sputtered before his brain could catch up to his mouth. They stood up and grabbed their things messily.

“I thought you said—”

“I just remembered I have to do something.” Willie cut Alex off. “I’ll see you tomorrow though?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Alex said quietly, failing at hiding his disappointment and making Willies chest ache.

“Cool.” Willie said. “See ya.” He threw an awkward peace sign at Reggie (who gave him one back) and skated out of the garage as fast as he possibly could.

***

“You are a disaster.” Flynn scolded, grabbing a dinosaur band-aid out of her desk drawer.

“I know!” Willie yelled into her pillow. She plopped down onto the bed in front of him.

“Why didn’t you just kiss him! You had the opportunity and he clearly wanted to kiss you too!” She yelled.

“I don’t know!” Willie whined, throwing the pillow back down into his lap. “I wanted to but I froze! And then Reggie showed up and I couldn’t stay after that! What if he didn’t want that to happen, what if he hates me now!”

“He doesn’t hate you! He’s very clearly in love with you, I don’t know what you’re not understanding about this.” She peeled the paper off the band-aid and carefully stuck it to Willies knee.

“You don’t know that.” He huffed.

“Who do you think you’re talking to? He likes you. When have I ever been wrong?”

They hated to admit it, but there have been very few times Flynn has been wrong.

“Fine. But what am I supposed to do?”

“Go back there? Ask him on a date or kiss him or just literally do anything.”

“I can’t go back! He’s rehearsing! I don’t wanna barge in while they’re rehearsing. And I left so fast it’d be so awkward—”

“Stop making excuses!” Flynn shook their shoulders, as they pouted. “Call him and say you forgot something.”

“I didn’t forget anything.” He said plainly. Flynn shot him a look.

“Duh! I know that, but if you tell him you’re coming back to get something then you can’t chicken out.” She explained, exasperated.

“Oh! Well what should I say I forgot?”

“Your phone, that's a reasonable thing you’d need to get back.”

“Okay. Okokok.” Willie mumbled to themself pulling out his phone and scrolling through his contacts before Flynn snatched it from them.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling him like you said!”

“Use my phone dummy! If you call him from your phone he’ll know you didn’t leave it there!” She opened her phone and before Willie realized what was happening, the phone was ringing on speaker.

“Hello?” Alex’s voice cracked through the phone.

Flynn looked at Willie and then back to the phone when he just sat there mouth agape.

“Um, hi. It’s Willie, not Flynn, I, um, left my phone in the studio and I’m on my way back to grab it.” They stuttered, hitting his head at his awkwardness.

“Oh alright. See you soon, then.”

“Yup. See ya.” Willie threw his head in his hands, their face turning bright red. Flynn ended the call and leaned against her wall with their arms crossed.

“You really are a disaster huh.” She teased.

Willie threw his pillow at them playfully and jumped off the bed. “I hate you.” He laughed.

“Love you too.” She grinned slyly. “Now, go tell your boyfriend he’s cool and you wanna kiss him!”

Willie groaned as he grabbed his things as Flynn shooed him out of her room.

***

“He’s coming back.” Alex said quickly. His friends shared the same look as they all “ooooooo”d at him.

“Guys stop! What do I do!” He cried.

“Man calm down, it’s alright.” Reggie consoled him.

“Why’re they coming back?” Julie asked turning her keyboard off so she can lean on the keys.

“Said they forgot their phone.” Alex replied.

“Mhm, right. Sure he did.” Luke teased. If he were closer Alex would’ve shoved him but he felt like he was glued to his seat.

“What do I do?” Alex asked again.

“I mean, we can keep rehearsing till he gets here if that’ll take your mind off of it?” Julie suggested.

God bless Julie. Alex nodded.

“I don’t know, it seems like he and Willie have some unfinished business.” Reggie winked.

“No! Nothing was happening! Nothing happened, it’s nothing. He just needs his phone back.” Alex tried to ignore his friends snickering but his mind flashed back to Willie on the couch in front of him. He really thought Willie had wanted to kiss him, but if how he left says anything, Alex must’ve misread the situation. They probably hated him.

“Dude, I can practically hear your thoughts and I promise you, he likes you.” Reggie assured him.

“You can’t know that for sure.” Alex mumbled, watching his drumstick twirl through his fingers.

“Maybe not but, we’ve all noticed how they look at you.” Luke cut in.

“It’s not exactly a secret.” Julie said sweetly.

“I just... I care about them a lot and what if you’re wrong and that’s just how he acts with his friends—”

“No, dude, we’re not letting you talk yourself out of this one.” Luke laughed.

“Seriously, Alex, you should go for it!” Reggie said encouragingly, walking around his drums to clap his shoulder.

Alex thought about it, he really did. He really thought for a second that he could do it, he could just lean forward and kiss him and they’d live happily ever after. But he over thought it, as usual.

“I don’t know. Maybe someday.” He shrugged.

“You can’t just wait for someday! You gotta go after what you want!” Luke exclaimed. Julie nodded.

Alex smiled at his friends. He appreciated their support but he couldn’t help but be afraid. Deep down, he knew they were right. He knew if Reggie had been just a minute later... But he still didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. Because there’s always that what if that won’t leave him alone.

There was a gentle knock on the garage doors as Willie stepped into view, he was hugging his arms and had a soft smile on his face. They carefully waved at everyone before he made eye contact with Alex, and suddenly it felt just like they were on the couch again. Just the two of them.

You know what. Maybe it’s time for someday.

Alex stood up from his drums and walked over to Willie, trying to act nonchalant. He heard Julie clear her throat to get the other two to stop staring at them and at least pretend to do something else.

“Hey.” Alex breathed.

“Hey.” Willie replied. “Can I actually see you, out here?” He asked shyly, nodding his head out side.

Alex nodded and followed Willie out of view of his band mates.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve looked for your phone before you got here but—” before Alex could finish his sentence Willie had cupped Alex’s face and pulled him into a kiss.

Alex felt like his heart had just exploded and he wasn’t completely sure if he was real anymore, but then he felt his hand rest on Willies cheek and he could confirm that yes, this was happening.

It didn’t last longer than a few seconds before Willie pulled away again. Their eyes searched Alex’s face for any sign of his emotion but Alex had completely stopped functioning and didn’t quite know what to do until he felt Willies grip on his face loosen.

“I’m sorry—” He tried to retract his hands but Alex held them in place, and he couldn’t help but laugh. He saw Willie’s worry fade and Alex pulled him back into a kiss. This one much softer, less rushed. No longer a question, but an answer.

They pulled apart and Alex noticed Willie shrinking down a bit and smiled to himself.

“Do you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss me?” He asked cheekily.

Willie raised his eyebrows. “That’s the question you have right now?”

Alex nodded, his smile unmoving.

“I’m glad you have your priorities set.” Willie laughed.

“Definitely.” Alex whispered. “Priority number one, make you stand on your tiptoes to kiss me again.”

“You’re mean.” Willie pouted. Alex laughed and Willie gave him a playful shove before Alex pulled him back onto his tiptoes.

“It’s about time.” Reggie whispered as he Luke and Julie peeked around the door and watched their friend.

“Luke,” He stood up straight and held out his hand.

Luke groaned and fished for his wallet in his pockets, handing him a $20 bill.

“Thank you.” Reggie said smugly, pocketing the cash.

Julie laughed and shook her head at her friends and they all made their way back to their respective instruments. Julie pulled out her phone.

Flynn: did he do it??

Julie: yup. reggie’s $20 richer

Flynn: about time!! took those fools long enough, geez

Julie: really tho

Alex walked back into the studio a blushing smiley mess and sat at his drums again, not saying a word despite his friends staring at him expectantly.

He scanned their faces from his seat behind his drums.

“From the top?”

———

a/n: let it be known that reggie used that $20 to buy a fish and he named it Gil and he is the best fish dad ever

#idk if the description is accurate like it is but i also don’t know what’s going on i wrote this in one day #hope you enjoyed anyways lol #i love them #and this song is them idc #willex week #willex #willie jatp #willie wilbur williamson #alex mercer #julie and the phantoms #jatp #willex oneshot #willex fic #netflixwewantjatp2 #renew julie and the phantoms

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boognish-worshipper · 3 years

Text

Midnight City AU

it took me forever to decide where to go with this chapter and i was literally getting fed up editing it 😭 i’ve been so busy with all the chaos goin on in my life rn too so yeah writing’s been feeling delayed over all but i decided to just finalize this one for rn and uhhh sorry if it seems funky or shortttt

//Chapter 3: Vanished

The next day, Trevor went back to Sterling Lake Park, after spending the night at Wade’s. He agreed to meet up with him there later, walking around the park with his earbuds in. As he threw himself down on his usual bench, he settled on listening to his usual playlist of his favorite songs. He scrolled through nosedivr once again, taking a photo of the lake. It was foggy, and the thick air sat atop the water. He liked when it was like that. A sturdy drumbeat thumped in his ears, making him feel whole. He paused it briefly, just to change it to a different song that was even louder, but with the lack of music he could now hear the crunch of gravel not too far away. He thought he told Wade to come later on? He looked up from his phone, pulling out an earbud. It was the guy from yesterday.

“Hey.”

“Hello.”

“Where’s Amanda?” He asked, glancing around.

“Uhh she’s.. not here today. I kinda came to see if you were here. I wanna get to know more people at this park if I’m gonna hang ‘round here more I guess.”

“But she doesn’t like me?”

“She don’t gotta know.”

“Well aren’t you Boyfriend of the Year.”

“Oh uh, we aren’t dating yet.”

“Thought she was your girl though.”

“She is, she is. But it’s nothing serious. Not yet. And I don’t know what happened between you guys but you don’t seem that bad, so if I wanna talk to you that’s more of a her problem than me.”

“Huh.”

Today Michael wore an eCola shirt, which was obviously made to resemble their old logo, with blue jeans. He had on a pair of red sneakers this time to match the color of the shirt. They looked slightly newer, compared to the pair he wore yesterday. He dressed nice for such a basic style. Trevor on the other hand, threw on an old, frayed Love Fist t-shirt, and messy jeans. He wore a different pair of boots, some kind of knockoff of a popular name brand. A pair of purple lensed circular glasses sat on his head, the nose pieces caught in his hair.

“So.. uh. Mind if I sit there?”

“Not like I own the bench or anything, go right ahead.”

He cautiously sat next to Trevor, hands in his lap. Trevor started one of his other playlists up again, settling on a mix of Paramore and Green Day. He left an earbud out, just so he wouldn’t be completely rude. He mindlessly scrolled, occasionally looking back at the lake or casting a sideways glance at Michael, who was looking at him funny. Sighing, he paused his music, putting his earbuds away.

“What.”

“I.. nothin’ man. I just, I dunno. What is the point of coming here?”

“It’s a public fuckin’ park man.”

“I know, but you said that you don’t even really like the people here, so what’s the point?”

“There is no ‘point’ to it. I just like time to myself is all. These guys don’t bother me, and I don’t bother them. They only start trouble when they see fit.”

“Ah… I see? What were you listening to by the way?”

Trevor stifled a groan, not really wanting to talk to the guy when he had time to freely plot his scheme.

“Pop punk shit. Ever heard of it?”

“Uh, no? I thought punk wasn’t supposed to be popular. Or fit in. Or whatever.”

“That’s merely the ideology, which I do follow, dear Michael. I just like the sound I guess. You know Paramore?”

“Not really. I don’t listen to that stuff much.”

“Then what the fuck do you listen to?”

“Not sure if it has a genre per say, but I like that song Radioactive goin’ around? Songs that sound like that I guess.”

“You like Imagine Dragons?”

“That’s what they’re called?”

Trevor could only stare at him. Was this guy living under a rock?

“Uh.. yeah. Y’know what- never mind, what else do you listen to?”

“80s music?”

No wonder this guy was unaware of who’s popular now.

“Amanda’s been trying to get me into groups like the 1975. I actually kinda like them.”

Trevor rolled his eyes.

“Of course she did.”

“They’re not that bad to be honest. She likes that weird alternative shit.”

“Yeah, I know. By the way, there is a name for that genre. Indie rock. Can’t stand the stuff.”

“How come?”

“You know, you ask a lotta fuckin’ questions.”

“I’m just tryna understand this shit here. I ain’t in the loop of all these trends.”

“Well, for your information I just find the style to be too slow and whiny for my taste. I like fast, upbeat, wild stuff.”

“Any recommendations then? I wanna impress Amanda by at least knowing one artist off that nosedivr thing she goes on.”

He raised a brow, not really wanting to share anything else knowing he would just repeat it back to her, but he shrugged and continued.

“Alright. Besides pop punk, I like experimental songs. Underground groups. Crystal Castles are my favorite.”

“Never heard of ‘em.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to.”

“Right.”

“If you want more indie rock shit though, I suggest listening to I don’t know, the Arctic Monkeys? That seems more like her taste.”

“These bands have such weird names.”

“I think bands have always been like that.”

“Hey wait a sec, I thought you didn’t like that stuff? How do you know the name of one of those groups?”

“Ugh… I guess I might as well say it if you’re gonna get with her, but we were friends at some point. She introduced me to those bands, but even then I didn’t really like it. We had a stupid falling out I’d rather not get into.”

“Oh.. sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be. Shit happens. You definitely seem like her type though, no wonder she got with you.”

“What’s her type?”

“Heh. As if I’d tell you.” He scoffed.

“C’mon man, please?”

“Nope.”

Michael frowned, slumping in his seat.

“Fine. Whatever. Not like I need to know.”

“You could at least pretend you don’t care.”

“I don’t.”

“You clearly do, bro.”

He sat arms crossed, turning a smidge away from Trevor. This was his opportunity to listen to his tunes again, but before he could Michael spoke up.

“Can I… can I listen to whatever you’re listening to?”

“Huh?”

“I wanna hear what you’re into.”

Trevor shot him a puzzled look.

“Uh.. okay.”

Wiping off an earbud, he handed one to Michael. He already had one in.

“Pick your poison cowboy.”

“Cowboy?”

“Just a nickname I give people.” He shrugged.

Michael settled on his experimental music, actually nodding along to the sound. They were closer than a minute ago, and it made Trevor uncomfortable for whatever reason. Maybe because he was never in such close proximity to strangers, but the other part of him didn’t care that much. Michael’s eyes were closed, smiling.

“You like it?”

“Yeah! Reminds me of synth stuff from the 80s, just more modern I guess.”

He smiled back at Michael, appreciating the fact there was someone else who liked the music he liked. The two listened to a couple different playlists he had, up until the moment Wade arrived at the park.

“Trevor! Hey!”

“Woah. Who’s your friend?”

“Hm?” He pulled out the single earbud, turning his head around. Wade had clown makeup on, making Trevor jump in his seat.

“Fucks sake. Hey Wade.”

“Ooh who’s this?”

He wasn’t sure if Wade freaked him out or not, seeing as the guy not only had matted locs, but many facial piercings as well. And the clown shit. He stood up to introduce them to one another.

“Wade, this is Michael. Michael, Wade.”

The way Michael looked at him was like a kid seeing a zoo animal for the first time. He looked bewildered, but not disgusted.

“Hi. What’s with the..?” He wavered a hand in Wade’s direction.

“Oh! It’s jus’ clown face. Not tryna scare ya or nothin’!”

“Uh huh… man. How have I never been around these parts? You guys are real different.”

“You got that right, Mike.”

“Seems like I’ve been missin’ out. I hangout with some dudes who would hate this place if I’m being honest.”

“I’ll have to meet ‘em sometime.” Trevor chuckled.

“They’re real cool guys. Didn’t expect our paths to cross, but anything’s possible in this fuckin’ city.”

“Oh yeah. Land of opportunities, for all types of wackjobs.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

A hand tapped Trevor on the shoulder.

“Uh, excuse me, Trevor, but are we still gonna talk about the Merryweather thingy-”

“Wade! Shut it-”

“What Merryweather thing?”

“Nothing, nothing. Not important.” He said, gritting his teeth, glare strong on Wade.

“Okay..”

“But you said we’d talk about it over icecream!”

“Later, Wade. Not right now.”

“Fiiine. Can we still get icecream though?”

“Sure. Promise. I’ll let you know.”

“Okay! Bye Trevor, bye stranger!”

Michael lifted a hand to haphazardly to wave goodbye.

“What was that about?”

“I told ya man, nothin’. Just going over some plans we’re making.”

“Is it about that special event being held there?”

“How you know about that?”

“Mandy told me.”

“Mandy… yeah. Figures as much.”

“She got an invite, and wants me to go as her plus one. I don’t know if I really wanna go though, I’m still pretty unfamiliar with all this.”

“Trust me, you don’t.”

“Seriously, what is your beef with those guys?”

“I told you, they start shit when they want. Taught ‘em a lesson and that was it. Nearly got me banned from this place, but it was kinda worth the looks on their faces.”

“You are.. quite peculiar y’know. Anyway, you mind showing more of that music? I was honestly gettin’ a kick outta it.”

“Uh, yeah.”

He sat back down next to Michael, handing him the same earbud as before. He clicked on one of his favorite Crystal Castles songs, Vanished. As they were listening, Michael furrowed his eyebrows.

“Hey wait a minute.. I think I’ve heard this before.”

“You have? I thought you didn’t know them.”

“No, I mean yeah I haven’t, but that’s not it. The lyrics. Vocals. I’ve heard them in a different song.”

“Oh.”

“Lemme think, lemme think, ah… I got it! Pass me your phone real quick.”

His fingers typed in the song title fast, pressing play right away. It was an indie rock song, much to Trevor’s dismay. But something stopped him from complaining, seeing how Michael’s face lit up.

“Yeah! This is it, Sex City by Van She. Y’know, I honestly think that’s neat.”

“What is?”

“The fact that a song you like, samples a song I like! Who would’ve guessed?” He said, eyes sparkling. Trevor didn’t notice how bright they were until now. The eye contact, along with the lack of space between them, made him feel stuffy again. He averted his eyes back to his phone, trying to loosen up a bit. As the song played, he savored in the sound, shocking himself a bit. The rock sound was there, but had an 80s sort of feel to it. The song finished before he knew it.

“So.. What’d ya think?”

“You know my thoughts on indie shit. Wasn’t for me, sorry.”

“Oh c’mon, you know you liked it.”

“Nope. Prefer Vanished.”

“Yeah, okay. Keep telling yourself that, but I honestly think they’re both really good. You think that too, I can feel it.”

“Whatever you say bro.”

He switched the song over to that Grimes song he listened to yesterday, the two of them sitting silently. It was a pleasant afternoon they shared. Suddenly Michael’s phone went off, and he yanked the earbud out.

“Ah shit. I gotta take this. Mandy.”

“Gotcha.”

Trevor grabbed the other earbud, putting it back in. He saw Michael wave his free hand around, looking close to hurling his phone right into the lake. Trevor assumed he must’ve been shouting as well, from the way other people were looking at him. Hanging up not much later, he returned to the bench, as Trevor put his earbuds away.

“Fuckin’ Christ.”

“So.. how’d it go?”

“She’s finally not mad at me anymore, but demanded I go take her shopping now. I swear, she’s gonna clear out my bank account or something.”

“How? You guys aren’t even dating.”

“I know, but I just can’t say no to her.”

“Uh huh.”

“Look, I’m sorry to leave so suddenly, but I really gotta go before she goes back to being pissed at me. See ya around?”

“I’ll be here man.”

Michael stood up, storming away. Seemed like he had a short temper, huh? He wondered to himself how long he was gonna stick around, seeing how Amanda’s dating history was… an extensive list. He thought back to last night, when he had seen that post of them, remembering the fact that no guy stayed for longer than a week. It almost made him bummed, seeing as he only had Ron and Wade for friends. Lester too, but that was on rare occasion. Shit. The plans. What time was it?

“Ah, fuck me.” He muttered. How did he let the day go by so quick?

He shot a text to Wade, telling him to grab Ron and meet at some icecream place. He did promise Wade after all.

Ron ended up meeting them there a little bit later, apologizing profusely before Trevor told him to just sit down and shut up. He did just that, almost apologizing once more.

“Now, let’s get down to business. Who do we know that would help us sneak into that club to cause sheer utter mayhem?”

Ron raised his hand excitedly.

“I could get Floyd maybe-”

“Definite fuckin’ no. He would have a heart attack the minute he set foot in there.”

This was getting nowhere. He tossed his head back to look up at the sky. As he did, he saw a couple walking out of the icecream place.

“Oh fucking hell.”

Was this guy following him or something? He snapped his head forward, trying to be a little more hidden.

“What? Trevor what is it?”

“Shh! Keep your fucking voice down Ron!”

He made all three of them lower their heads as the couple walked away, peeking over his shoulder to make sure they were gone. As he did, he could’ve sworn he saw Michael looking back at him. The both of them turned away as quick as possible from the split second of eye contact.

“Trevor?” Ron repeated.

“It was nothing. Just thought I saw someone.”

“Ain’t that the Michael fella I met today?”

“Nope. Don’t think it is.”

“Are ya sure-”

“Pretty fucking positive. Now, back on topic.”

The next hour or so still went nowhere. Wade had gone through two servings of icecream, and Ron started to get restless. Trevor was just bored.

“Ughhh there has to be something we can do!”

“I don’t know what to tell you Trevor. We’ll find someone, soon. There’s enough time isn’t there?”

“Yeah, but I’m not waitin’ til the last possible fuckin’ second to get a guy to help us out here.”

“But we still have time.”

“If you fuckin’ say so Ron.”

The three of them called it a night, as Trevor tossed around the idea of possibly getting Michael involved in his head. On one hand he wanted to out of spite just to make Amanda and the other hipsters mad, and on the other he didn’t want to screw up whatever new friendship he had started with Michael. Ron did say they had time to find someone soon. They weren’t exactly in a rush, but he still wanted to make sure their plan was concrete. They all went back to Wade’s, Trevor deciding to take a walk along the beach. He threw on the same playlist from earlier, watching the sunset. As he walked, he didn’t pay much mind to where he was going, bumping into someone.

“Ah fuck, watch where you’re going-”

“Shit, sorry man-”

As they spun around from the collision, he realized exactly who he had run into.

“Trevor?”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck? Are you following me or something?”

“Huh?”

“This is the third time I’ve seen you today. What are you even doing here?”

“Uh, it’s a public fuckin’ beach man.” He said, mocking the comment Trevor had made earlier.

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“Hey, I’m just tellin’ you how it is. I didn’t purposely search for you, hell I didn’t even know you lived this way.”

“I do. So make like a tree and fuck off.” He said bitterly.

“Woah, chill the fuck out. What’s your deal? I thought we were cool man.”

“I don’t like being followed.”

“I just told you I wasn’t!”

“It doesn’t exactly seem like it. You just so happen to look for me this morning, and just happen to go to the same icecream place I went, and then I find you here? I mean Jesus-”

“I’m telling you, it’s all purely coincidence.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fuckin’ hell man..” He mumbled.

“Y’know, you’re as fuckin’ stubborn as Amanda is. I already told you-”

Trevor balled his fists, before jabbing a finger into Michael’s chest.

“Don’t fucking compare me to her.”

Michael threw his hands up defensively, not realizing he touched a nerve.

“Woah woah, easy dude. I didn’t think it was that bad between you guys.”

He exhaled loudly, unclenching his hands.

“It wasn’t. Isn’t. Just.. don’t compare me to her.”

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling hard himself.

“Look, I think you’re cool and all but you can’t flip out on me like that. I mean we are just getting to know each other y’know. I can’t have you wanting to bite my head off like that if I just so happen to keep running into you. I really am just trying to navigate the area better, so forgive me if I came off as some sorta fuckin’ stalker. Amanda went home and I had nothing better to do so I chose to walk over this way.”

“Hmph. Fine. Whatever.”

“So we good?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now, since we’re already here why don’t we just hangout or something?”

Trevor folded his arms, trying to look like he didn’t want to spend another minute with him. It didn’t really work though, because he actually did want to talk to him more.

“If you insist.”

“Alrighty.”

The two of them started to head in the direction of the boardwalk, neither one speaking yet. After finding a bench to sit on as the sun sunk below the horizon, the silence was still there. This sort of thing was bizarre for both of them in different ways. Michael never really frequented these parts of LS, and Trevor never really hit it off with any kind of stranger. Ron and Wade were exceptions if anything, and he had known Lester for a while now. Yet there was something about this guy that didn’t make him feel like he was spending time with a stranger, even though he knew jack shit about him. He might as well try to make small talk.

“So I-”

“So uhh-”

They spoke over each other while trying to start up a conversation, making things feel a little more awkward.

“Shit sorry, you go first.”

“Nah nah you go.”

“Um. Okay. So.. tell me about yourself? We haven’t really talked about much besides music.”

“Yeah.. right. What do ya wanna know?”

“I just asked you to tell me about yourself, so it’s your job to decide what to say.”

Michael gave him a sardonic smile in response to that, partly because he wasn’t sure what to bring up about himself. It seemed like they were gonna be here a while if they wanted to say the most basic shit you say when getting to know someone.

“Well, I ain’t that interesting if you really need to know. I’m guessing you already know about my whole ‘affinity for the 80s’ thing, like the culture n shit that came from it. Real sick stuff.”

“If you say so.”

“Yeah. Anyway, if you really want to know plain shit about me though, I will tell ya that my favorite color’s blue.”

Trevor snickered at that.

“Pfft, seriously? We’re talking favorite colors now?”

“Hey man, you said you wanted to know more about me.”

“Uh yeah, but that’s so fuckin’ silly.”

“Maybe it is, but what about you? You got one?”

“Favorite color? You kiddin’?”

“I’m waiting..”

“Uh huh… I’ll give. Always liked the color red I guess. Like, in variety. Not picky about something as childish as that.”

“What’s childish about that?”

“Cuz only kids exchange that whole ‘oh what’s your favorite color?’ thing. It’s like if I were to ask you what your favorite dinosaur is.”

“Hmm.. I’d probably say a T-Rex.”

“Oh now you’re just pulling my dick. And no, I’m not telling you what mine is just because you did.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask you though. That was all you.”

“Mm… shut it.”

“You got one though?”

“I’m not telling you!”

“Ah ah, I didn’t ask which one, I asked if you had one.”

“Well I don’t, so knock it off.”

“That’s fair. I won’t push.”

They grew silent for the second time that night, before Trevor mumbled something under his breath.

“It’s a pterodactyl..”

“What was that?”

He forced a breath through his nose, acting annoyed.

“It’s a fuckin’ pterodactyl. That’s mine. Okay?”

“Hah, okay. Any reason why?”

“You’re so nosy.”

“You’re the one who started this conversation about getting to know each other man.”

“Ugh, I know that.” He said, lightly shoving his shoulder.

“I think it’s cool that they could fly and shit. I like flying.”

“You like flying?”

“Loved it.”

“Wait, you tellin’ me you fly? Like, planes and shit?”

Trevor winced at the words, regretting what he just said.

“I did.. at some point. Air Force shit. They said I was one of the best they’d seen in a while but I.. left. Sort of.”

“Then why’d you leave?”

“I didn’t exactly leave on my own accord. More or less got kicked out.”

“How come-”

“I don’t like talking about it. I know we’re opening up or whatever the fuck but that.. that’s still too soon for me to want to bring up. Especially to someone I barely know.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He said, even though it really wasn’t. It’s not like Michael knew though, he really wasn’t trying to prod in a bad way.

It was almost pitch black by the time their conversation got to that point, only distant streetlight and the nearby pier lighting up their surroundings. The whole mood had shifted, and both of them decided to just break it off there.

“Hey uh, I’ll probably see you tomorrow man. If I’m with Amanda I think I’ll just send a wave or something your way.”

“Got it. See ya.”

“Bye.”

Trevor stayed put, watching Michael leave as he turned down a random one way street. This guy was tripping him out and he couldn’t pin point why. It was getting late though, and walked off himself back to Wade’s. He’ll save that vexed question for another night.

//ahhhhhh i rlly did not know what i wanted to do with this….,,., sorry if this wasn’t as good as the first two !! i alrdy know i repeated a bunch of stuff in there and i feel like it got kinda sloppy so again, soz (including typos or whtevr)

but uhhhh anyway yeah i cut it off here bc i wanted to continue some of this shit in the next chapter ig lol,, more stuff to come soon god willing

#gta v #grand theft auto v #grand theft auto 5 #trevor philips #michael townley #ron jakowski #wade hebert #midnight city au

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perfidy;tom holland|3

chapter 3: the background music

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

story summary: Tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. However, you happened to be best friends with the twins. When one of your friends challenged you to break Tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. Old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.

chapter summary: you get a chance to get closer to Tom, and you take it.

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, alcohol, mentions of sex (? didn’t proof read

word count: 6k (whoops)

here’s a playlist

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

Hi! I’ve been super busy I’m sorry! And I rewrote this like a thousand times but I like where this is going, so please! Tell me what you think, comments and reblogs are very welcome. (Btw it’d be cool if you listened to the songs)

It’s been a while since you felt your heart halt with excitement. You hadn’t felt your stomach jolt with butterflies since your first date with Timmy. And you kind of missed it, that ever lasting and wonderful joy to experience on a first encounter. The smiles, the tingle and the hand shaking. The little hints of flirting that led to asking someone out. It’s like walking into a movie theatre, with a promise of joy, with the taste of popcorn, and you find yourself walking in with excitement and getting transported into a whole new other world.

Love, like any movie, can be good, can be bad. Like a good story, one that’s promising and you can’t stop watching, and you want to see yourself in the emotions, and feel the air and the breeze.

Love is like movies, some of them you like, some of them you don’t. Movies make us cry, make us feel. Some of them make us laugh, some of them not so much.

And love, it has its own background music. Like in films, there are songs that just transport you back to that moment, to that scene. With Timmy, it was a calm song, too calm for your own convenience.

But Tom, not that you loved him, somehow had his own soundtrack. 80’s chaotic rock n’ roll. Rolling Stones vibes. Every time he walked into the room, it felt like one of those scenes in a movie, a bar with little lightning when the guy with blue jeans and white t-shirt walked in, cigarette in the edge of his mouth, walking in vainly, as if he thought everyone had their eyes on him. They probably did, if you were honest that made you hate him even more, but somehow it was interesting. A character that probably had no other personality trait than being an asshole.

It wasn’t always like that. Not that notorious, at least. Tom had changed from a 60’s chaotic rock n roll. Always rock n roll. You could picture it, if you had to imagine a scene from your childhood with Tom, you’d probably play The Kinks. Picture Book.

When Tom and you were younger, it was absolutely clear you didn’t get along. Constant hair pulling, insults, and pranks. A parade of hatred, yelling, fighting and very unnecessary arguments over very stupid stuff. And yes, Tom was still wrong, Robin Hood was not the superior Disney movie, just to clear that out.

Everyone said it: Those two can’t hate each other more. They were right.

At school, if you ever crossed paths, there’d be trouble. You’d often be at the principal’s office after having a heated argument with Tom or a prank, or…whatever you guys had come up with this time.

It was quite clear.

Your mother and Nikki, however, had a very different opinion on your relationship than anyone else, they were aware of your attitude and Tom’s, but they were still convinced they would fix it, and you didn’t blame them, you’d also be pissed if in the future your children didn’t get along with Harry’s or Sam’s, you’d try to force it as well. At a point, they stopped forcing the ‘future romantic relationship’ bullshit dream and settled with trying to get you guys getting along without fighting. They were sure that the fighting was probably because you had only a few things in common, so they pushed your activities together.

Add in some Johnny B. Goode to remember the following.

First, it was piano lessons. First class and you had already knocked down the piano while yelling at each other. You weren’t welcomed for a second class. Then it was baseball, and Tom had hit your nose with the ball, it had been an accident ‘allegedly’. It wasn’t. You weren’t welcome for that class either. Painting classes, you had painted Tom’s clothes all green and made his hair pink. The teacher had claimed she’d never seen two kids more unfit for art than you two.

So, yeah, it didn’t work out.

Eventually, Nikki and your mother decided to stop trying, or at least they gave up the extra classes. At least not together, Tom started ballet and you found joy in photography classes. You were getting along better since you didn’t have to actually spend time together.

So they’d just ask how your relationship was going and whenever they wanted to have tea together they’d avoid bringing you two together unless you were cool with each other. It made it very difficult that you were very good friends with the twins.

But you had had your secrets, even after everything, you still crushed on him from time to time. However, the last time you had had any kind of feelings like those had been when he had taken you to prom. Of course it had awakened something in you, but those feelings had never come back because he had broken your heart. What else could you expect from someone like him? After that, you’d promised yourself you’d never fall again for him. Not that you fell for him, but you promised that his smile would never make your stomach jolt with joy.

It hadn’t.

Let’s go 70’s music now, maybe. Come and Get Your Love-Redbone.

Even on your 18th birthday, the last time you ackwloedged you had made out---kissed- with him hadn’t brought any feelings. Or maybe, they had surfaced but they had been very different feelings. They were mostly confused and disgusted. THere had been one more thing but... You decided to ignore it. But you hadn’t really felt anything for him, less when you realized how big of an asshole he was to you.

You were sure he had never felt anything for you. He had made it very clear. ‘I’d rather eat a frog than kiss you’. Yet, he had kissed you.

You had once bothered him about it: “Hey Holland, I know why your face looks like that, you said you’d rather eat a frog than kiss me, so you ended up never swallowing that frog!”

However you were now facing a predicament. You had a month, a month to make him fall in love with you when he clearly had no interest in you.

That’s all you could think about as you had arrived at his parents’ place. You had been quiet on the ride back home. You hadn’t even told him how it had gone. But he had let you choose the music. You’d love to change the soundtrack on your relationship with Tom, maybe an 80’s more type of funky music.

You hadn’t told your friends about it, but you had told them you’d be going to a bar later to celebrate. But you had been quiet. You needed to think of something fast because you knew how your boss liked to work, and this was the opportunity of a lifetime. You’d be away for two months and if you didn’t come back with a script for her you’d be screwed. This was the worst timing, Tom was going to start filming in exactly three days, sure he’d start in London and then go to America, but you had to do something quick and come up with a lame excuse to hang out with him. Change the background music in your scenes with him.

How does one make your enemy fall in love with you? You thought of the possibility of changing the script and sending in an idea to Alessandra, maybe you could talk about something that was actually happening to you. The story of your breakup with Timmy? That could work, although your breakup had been extremely boring. No one would like to watch something as calm and boring and that probably was playing the worst music in history.

And if you thought about it, with Tom, it was like one of those sexy chaotic rock n’ roll songs.

How would you make him fall in love with you? And why did you want him to? That’s all you had been thinking about on the way home. Because there was a part of you that wanted him to feel the way you felt back when you were younger. You wanted him to feel that agony of knowing that you liked someone who would rather go eat a frog than to ever like you back. Someone who constantly found ways to hurt you. Who could ever fall in love with such a beast like him?

Tom led the way to the door. And you gave it a thought, all of this was now just a scene, something you were writing, but writing it along the way. And you pictured it on the script. How you could start and use some childhood scenes, and then, to this exact moment, with a little bit more of imagination.

Ext. 1989 London Suburbs-Day.

Y/N gets out of the car, an 86 blue porsche. Tom is playing with the keys and heading to the door.

Y/N

Hey, Tom?

You saw it, you could write it.

“Hey, Tom?” You asked. And you had to take a look at him, and really stare. So he’d know. You knew him, that was your weapon. You knew what he liked, what he didn’t, you knew the girls he’d dated. You had that in your favor, and you knew that Tom loved being noticed.

He noticed that you were staring and you saw him slightly concerned.

“Oh, you’re talking, good,” he said as he cleared his throat and then you finally arrived at his face, arching your eyebrows as your eyes met his.. He’d grown up, but you could still see that kid you once knew. “Are you okay?” He asked. And you saw him, he was weirded out. He noticed you were staring.

“Thanks for the ride, it meant a lot to me.” For starters, you could try to be nice.

He gave you an awkward smile. “Sure.”

You walked to the door now, but he stopped you.

“How did it go?” He asked. And you only patted him on the shoulder.

“Good, thanks for worrying,” and you placed a kiss on his cheek. And you thought of the camera, maybe a close up to the lipstick stain you’d left.

He went red and paused, triumphantly you opened the door and there was his whole family. Of course Nikki would do this. They knew how big this was and they loved making a big deal about it, especially since Tom had driven you.

This was awkward, it wasn’t like you didn’t feel comfortable with the Hollands, au contraire, but there was that pinch of guilt holding you back, you knew what you were going to do and you felt like everyone knew about it. Especially since they saw Tom was trying to scratch the remaining lipstick on his cheek.

But you walked in, Nikki was on the phone, and she dedicated a big smile to you.

“It’s your mum!” she mouthed. Your parents were currently having a perfect vacation in Paris, and if you were honest with yourself, you’d rather be third wheeling your parents than trying to come up with ways to make your biggest enemy fall in love with you. It sounded so dramatic, an enemy. Calling him that seemed so immature and childish. But there was no other way to call him. He was your mortal enemy.

Dom was the one to approach you and hugged you hello.

You didn’t know if they sensed your tension.

“Hey y/n, what’s with the long face?” Sam asked as he grinned looking at you, walking over. “Who died?”

“Her hopes and dreams, probably,” Tom said behind you. “And her sex life,” he laughed, earning a glare by Nikki.

“Tom,” Nikki turned stern.

“What? Didn’t she just break up?” Tom pushed with a smirk.

Nikki crossed her arms, “Thomas,” her voice was firm as she watched him leave for the kitchen, but then softened as she looked at you. “Y/N, long time no see! I see Tom drove you,” Nikki grinned.

“Yeah, he did, didn’t leave me alone” you chuckled. “He was nice, that didn’t last” you chuckled.

“Your brother is coming, too, by the way,” she informed you. Great. But how did it go?” She grinned. “Do you have a job now?”

“I….”

Harry tackled you from behind. “Yes, idiot! How did it go?”

You chuckled as you turned around to finally hug him. “Hi!” You wanted to tell Harry everything, everything, you hadn’t seen him in a while, he was too busy with his own things and his new girlfriend, Emma.

“Oh, you don’t know how much I missed you,” he said.

“Me too,” you grinned. “How are things with Emma? How are you?”

“Good, great, things are… great, I’ve got some news!” He chuckled. “But, okay, tell me everything about the interview, I’m so sorry I couldn’t-”

“Hey, it’s alright! It went amazing! I… Well, it’s complicated, but I kind of nailed it.”

“Really?” Tom asked as he was opening up a bag of crisps. “Then why were you quiet all this time?”

“I didn’t want to talk to you,” you snapped. “Never share good news with your enemy.”

Tom rolled his eyes and forced a laugh.

You turned back to Harry. “But, hey, what is the news?”

“Um… let’s just… Have lunch.”

Before you knew it, you were sitting down listening to Harry and Sam, both of them making you laugh with their stories. Tom sat at the other edge of the table, far from you. This was how it usually went, him far away from you and avoiding any eye contact with you. Everyone understood it, and they didn’t try to push it that far anymore. There were times when you turned to eat, when things were bad, but right now it seemed like it was bothering Tom. You could see he wanted to join the conversation at times but he remained on his phone, or talking to his parents.

Your brother arrived and he sat near Tom, they were friends, and they could talk to each other. And although your brother was aware of your relationship with Tom, he had grown up with him, too so there couldn’t be any hard feelings against them. Besides, everyone in the family was aware of it. This was between you and Tom only, nothing to drag them in.

You caught Tom’s eyes a few times, and you had, against your will, dedicated him a smile or two. He hadn’t smiled back.

“Okay, so what’s the big deal, y/n?” James asked. “I mean, I love coming over for lunch here but, how did it go? Are you an official writer?”

You chuckled as you saw them looking at you. “I well…”

They frowned.

“Well, they asked me to write a script, for a new series, pitch in an idea, they’re giving me two months to write it and if they like it, I am officially working for them.”

“That’s nuts,” Harry frowned.

“That sounds like the worst job offer,” Paddy pointed out.

“Pads,” Sam frowned at him.

“It’s a competition kind of thing, if they like it enough, they’ll produce it,” you explained. “That’s why I’m not as...excited.”

“But it’s a chance,” Tom pointed out. “I… talked to your friend, he… Charlie, that’s his name?” He asked. “And he told me about that and how they’re only choosing between three people.”

Your eyes widened. He had talked to Charlie and that made you feel uncomfortable. “Yes, well, it’s a shot, it’s better than having nothing.”

“But wait, until then you have like… No job?” Sam asked.

You bit your lip. “Yup, but hey it’s… a good shot, I honestly thought Alessandra was going to fire me.”

“That’s nonsense,” James pitched in. “But okay, I’m still proud of you, little one,” he grinned.

You knew it wasn’t a big shot, but it was a chance.

“Yes, it’s still good.” Harry pursed his lips.

Nikki and Dom watched you, and you saw it in their eyes the same pity your parents usually had.

“But hey!” You tried to change the subject. “Harry’s got news too, right?”

Harry popped his lips. “Yeah, uh… I got… Well, I actually, ...it got in, the screenplay, they’re producing it,” Harry explained, and he said it with the softest voice as if he was trying not to hurt you. But this was weird, you already knew that part. “But well, we’re starting the production in a week in… Scotland.”

“That’s amazing!” You grinned.

And his whole family started to cheer for him, and the tension in the room faded out.

Except when Tom finally… realized something. “Wait, in a week?” Tom asked. “Then… you’re not...coming to help me out?”

And the table went quiet. Harry was Tom’s assistant, he knew schedules, clothes, everything. Harry was basically Tom’s boss.

“Yeah, I wanted to talk about that, too,” Harry bit his lip. “I can’t… I would’ve told you sooner so we could find another assistant but-”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Tom cleared his throat. “I’m super excited I just… I need to find an assistant.”

And then you saw it. A chance, as if you had just wished upon a star and it had granted you an opportunity. If this hadn’t been the situation you probably would’ve called him out on being so selfish and arrogant and vain as you usually did, but this was unexpected as if the universe was trying to help you with your plan.

The family started to give him so options and they were trying to find a balance between finding somehting that could soothe stupid Tom and congratulate Harry

“What if… I’m your assistant?” You said, loud enough for all them to quiet down.

Tom laughed. “What?”

“Yeah, think about it,” you shrugged. “I don’t have a job right now, and it’ll be what? Two months filming? It’s a perfect time for me to help you out and write”

Tom frowned, staring at you. “You can’t be serious?”

“Why not?” You grinned.

“Because you can’t stand each other,” this time your brother popped in. “And being his assistant would mean spending this entire two months with him.”

“And he gets pretty annoying,” Sam said.

“I’m used to that, I can handle that,” you said.

“I can’t handle you,” Tom frowned.

“Now, now, Tom it might be… a good idea,” Nikkie said, and of course she would agree. Of course she wanted you to be around him, with hopes of you getting along. And right now, you wanted more than getting along.

“Yes, you’re both adults now, you can be decent, right?” Dom intruded.

“I can,” you smiled.

“No, you can’t,” Tom clenched his jaw.

“Oh, c’mon, Tom, help her out,” Harry said. “Besides, I’m sure she’ll be great, she'd be amazing at planning.”

Tom looked away. “I’ll… think about it.”

Lunch became quiet on Tom’s side of the table, while you kept talking to Harry and Sam. You weren’t quiet, and eventually ended up in the living room, having a laugh and waiting for it to get dark so you could go to the bar where you’d meet your friends.

You borrowed a hoodie and then you were good to go, Sam, Harry and you were about to walk out when you bumped into Tom who had also stayed, talking to your brother, who had just left.

Tom looked at the three of you and walked past you.

“Have fun.”

Usually, he wouldn’t be invited, but right now you were under very different circumstances. It felt different. And there was still that tinge in your ear telling you to back away, no one should play with fire unless you want to get burned.

“You can come, too,” you said as you turned around.

“What?” Tom frowned as he stopped.

“You’re invited,” you cleared up, as he slightly turned to you.

“Really?”

“Sure,” you smiled. “C’mon it’s my way to pay you for the ride.”

He clenched his jaw, but he quickly accepted it and joined you.

Before you knew it, you had a beer in your hand and he was sitting right beside you. You didn’t understand how or why, but he had been the one to sit without a warning. You were in your favorite booth at the end of the pub where you had a little bit more privacy. And you watched Tom, and his cap.

You didn’t stand him, why were you going to risk it all for this? And the idea of being his assistant was giving you a headache.

But you thought about it, how stupid it was of Alessandra to ask for a script based on real life. It was probably one of her most stupid ideas, and you knew that she probably was doing it because she believed of herself as a teacher that was giving the key of art to the interns. When in reality she was only pushing everyone back. But maybe this would be a challenge for you, you’d never written anything remotely close to a love story, only when younger, maybe, but you didn’t like writing love because it didn’t feel like a challenge to you. Maybe it was now.

Somehow, Charlie and Danielle had decided that the perfect way to get the evening going was to ask about your childhood.

There was a live group playing music, and somehow you felt it was a sign. 70’s and 80’s rock n’ roll. It suited the vibe, as the light was dimmed out.

“Man, I—If I’m honest, I think we probably have everything filmed,” Tom said, as he answered Danielle’s question of your childhood. “Y/N and Harry used to carry that camera everywhere.”

The beer in your hand was bittersweet, you had stopped counting how many you had had, Tom kept ordering you both beer, something advised by Harry and Sam, who had pointed out you both needed to be a little bit tipsy to stand each other.

“Really?” Charlie asked.

“Yes, we should pick that up again, you know?” You nodded, as you let down your beer, you brushed your fingers against Tom’s. “It's good to have memories.”

Harry grinned. “I mean we didn’t really stop.”

“No, but you know, we used to literally film everything we’d be filming this!” You pointed out.

Tom chuckled as he took out his phone. “Hey everyone, it’s Tom and I’m kind of drunk here,” he admitted to the camera. “On my side, you’ll be able to see a troll, one of a kind, viewer discretion is advised,” he pointed at you as you glared at him.

“Oh, piss off.”

“See? Oh maybe I’m wrong, are you a witch?” He smirked as he pointed the camera at you.

“Change a letter there, sweetheart,” Charlie grinned. “It’s not a w it’s a b.”

Harry snickered. “Oh, don’t give him ideas.”

Tom shook his head. “Nah, she’s more of a witch,” Tom said carefully as he turned to you. “The wicked witch of the east.”

“It’s the west, dumbass,” you corrected him.

“No, because the one who died is the one from the east,” he winked at you. “And I’m Glinda.”

“You know she’s the real villain of the story right?” You frowned.

“She is not.”

“No, she’s not but—“you chuckled. “I’m drunk. I dunno.”

But the conversation was flowing and you were hinting some flirting at Tom sometimes, like casually touching his shoulder or batting your eyes a bit more, and he was catching up on it. But your nature would show up and you’d end up mocking each other and rolling your eyes. If anything, you could blame it on the alcohol.

“You know, you know what you two need?” Charlie said between drunken giggles. Tom was recording again as he made silly faces to the camera but then started to record you.

“A burger,” you answered, turning back to Charlie.

“With chips, yes,” Tom agreed and you laughed and slightly leaned against him. You had significantly gotten closer to him through the night and you were sure his hand had landed several times on your waist. His hand was slightly now behind your shoulders, resting against the booth.

“No, you guys need to bone,” Charlie snaked. You felt your heart falling down and you quickly shifted away from Tom. He retracted his hand to himself.

Harry burst into laughter. “This dude is mental.”

“These two?” Sam threw his head back. “oh gosh, if you told them to screw they would actually bring nails and screw,” Sam laughed.

“Yes, I’d rather have grounds in my coffee than have to spend 5 minutes with him,” you said.

“And I’d rather eat a frog,” Tom chuckled.

“Just swallow the one in your mouth,” you giggled, poking his cheeks then proceeded to make more faces at his camera.

“I’m serious, all that hatred you’re showing it’s only a facade,” Charlie said. “All of it would be gone if you gave in to that sexual tension you’ve got going on.”

“Gross,” you stated

“It’s simple psychology,” Charlie explained, “you’re both rude to each other because you can’t have the other.”

Harry coughed, “That would never happen.” You saw Harry gulp down his beer,

“Why can’t people just accept we don’t like each other?” You wondered as you watched them.

“You’re like my soulmate but for hate,” Tom zoned out for a minute. “My soulhate.”

“Besides it’d be weird,” Harry pointed out. “We grew up together.”

“That would make it weird?” Tom raised his brow.

Charlie took a long sip of his vodka. “I’m just saying.”

“Well, don’t,” you rolled your eyes.

But the night continued, Charlie and Danielle left eventually leaving you with the Holland’s. The twins left and, you hadn’t accepted their offer to drive you home. Surprisingly Tom hadn’t left either, it seemed like he had picked up on your little flirting game. This was a good start.

“So, you really do want to be my new assistant?” He asked, as he snatched your drink out of your hand, taking a sip.

“I actually do,” you sassed as you took it back, sipping it. “I need a job and might as well have something to kind of do with a big star, you know?”

He watched you. “You think we will last without fighting?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“Well, you’ve got a better idea? Have anyone else for the job? You start in three days” you pointed out.

He rolled his eyes. “I know, I know.”

“Besides, I know you, Tom, for better or for worse,” you admitted.

He clenched his jaw. “I guess. You do realize we’ll have to spend an awful lot of time together? And that you’ll have to travel with me?” He was condescending.

“It’ll be strictly business, won’t it?”

“Yes but-“

“I’ll be as professional as I can be, Thomas Stanley Holland,” you grinned

“Don’t call me that.”

You giggled. “Little Stanley…”

Tom frowned. LY/N, see? This. This is what I mean.”

“Ah, c’mon Stan,” you laughed. “I won’t be showing all your embarrassing pictures and telling your stories to everybody.”

Tom stood up, ready to leave. “That’s it.”

You pulled him back down. “Tommy, I’m joking.”

He glared at you. “I don’t trust you.”

“You think I trust you?” You laughed. “We both can lose a lot here, Tommy, I won’t be risking my career in spite of yours.”

He bit his lip, looking away.

“Tommy, please.”

“I...fine. But I need you to understand… You’ll be spending time with me.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said, but it came out very poisonous, earning a scoff from Tom. “Why are you scared?”

“Because I honestly think this is the most time we’ve shared without tearing each other apart,” he shrugged.

You stared down at the half full bottle that you’d been sharing. You took it into your hands.

“Ah, it’s the beer, probably,” you grinned

He took it from your hands and sipped it. “Right, alcohol makes us nice to each other.”

“You call this nice?” You took the beer back.

“I’m not trying to ruin your life so yes,” he smirked, taking it back.

“Am I ruining yours?”

“Kind of,” he admitted.

You smirked as you finally took the beer back and downed it. “Good.”

“Shall I remain drunk all the time, then?” He laughed, his laughter was dragged.

“Dunno, it’s up to you, you do tend to get a little nicer,”

He laughed. “Me? You’re the one who hasn’t been able to keep her hands to herself,” he pointed out as your hand had brushed his.

You clenched your jaw. “And you haven’t pushed me away,” you smirked, as you took his hand and pushed it away.

Tom licked his lips as he stared at you. “Well.” He shrugged, as he placed his arm back behind you, resting it back on the chair.

“See? Alcohol.”

He laughed. “I can’t be drunk all the time.”

“I can.”

“Y/N.”

“Tom, I’m joking, and I genuinely want to help you,” you said. “Besides, I’ll have time to write this script.”

He rested his hand on his head, you could smell the alcohol even from that distance. “What will you write about?”

“Dunno, I’ll see.”

“You’re good, don’t worry.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’ve never read me.”

“I’ve read many of your scripts,” Tom scoffed. “Not only the ones when we were little, I...also the ones you’ve shown to Harry, they’re all good.”

You frowned. “Thanks.”

“I don’t see why you’re so stressed about this.”

“Because… it’s complicated,” you shrugged. “It’s not...something I usually write.”

“Hm. Is it a love story what you need to write?” He mocked.

“I well, kind of, so shut up, you know I hate writing those,” you rolled your eyes.

“Hm, you do, now?”

“Yes, I don’t think I’ve ever written some true authentic love story,” you admitted. And you hadn’t, you really hadn’t.

“Because you’re the villain of the stories, you said it when we were kids. The villains will never…”

“Never find love, I know. Maybe you’re right. But you’re the villain in my story so…” You wrinkled your nose.

“We’re doomed.” He bit his lip.

“Or…” You grinned.

“Or?” He frowned.

“Maybe the villains end up falling for each other,” you suggested, shooting your shot.

He laughed to himself and turned away. A slight blush upon his. “Hm, hinting a crush again, y/n? I think I’ve been clear with you before, you’re not my type.” His voice had turned darker.

“Oh, please, Tom, I’d never fall for some jerk like you,” you pushed.

“You did once.”

“I was 9 and stupid”

“Oh, right you’re not 9 anymore, but you’re still stupid,” he grinned.

You shrugged. “But not as stupid as to be one of those many who’d fall for you, you know?” “Ah, the I’m not like other girls cliché,” Tom laughed, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, but it’s not really a cliché here,” you pointed out. “I mean if we’re honest, I know you enough to know you’re an asshole, and everyone else sees you through the cameras, you know?”

He raised his brows. “I guess… yet...You’ve always been different, y/n, you know? Like, I’m always on the edge with you.”

You grinned. “Are you now?”

“Yeah, one minute you’re flirting then the other you’re doing this,” he pointed at your glaring face, as you felt yourself blushing ignoring his gaze. “it’s weird. I never know if you’re flirting or not.”

“I’m not,” you crossed your arms. “Not with you.”

“Then who were you flirting with all night? Harry? Sam?” Tom pushed.

“No… Charlie.”

“Charlie? The gay guy,” Tom laughed.

You flipped him off.

He smired. “See? Just two seconds ago you had your hand in my hair.”

“Alcohol.”

The lights were dimmed.

“We should… get out of here, I’ll get us an uber.”

You walked out, tipsy enough to walk and just slightly cold. You knew that asking for his jacket would earn only a laugh from him. He had been just nice enough now, and you knew this could blow up. But you felt dizzy, and to keep yourself steady you grabbed his arm. He didn’t move as he stared at his phone.

“You’re always like that, you know?”

“Like what?”

“You’re like polar opposites in one person,” he commented.

You pushed him away. “Ah great, am I bipolar now?”

“No, no, that’s not…”He closed his eyes. “Not what I meant.”

The car arrived and you both hopped into the backseat.

“That’s not what I meant,” he continued.

“Then what did you mean?” You crossed your arms.

“I don’t know.”

You glanced at him. “And you’re worse, you’ve been playing with me since kids.”

“What does that---?” He frowned. “I never-”

“You always gave me hope.”

“I didn’t. Maybe you were too busy dreaming with me and misread everything, I’ve never liked you.

“I’m not implying you liked me,” you snapped.

“Then?”

“I’m implying you were an asshole.”

The driver widened his eyes as he looked at you from the mirror, you saw he was trying to suppress a smile.

Tom clenched his jaw. “Ah, that I am, but, please, sweetheart but you and I could never be.”

“I know, mainly because I despise you.”

He scooted closer. “And because I’m cool and you’re you.”

“And I’m me?” You saw him getting extremely closer.

He held your chin. “Look at us, y/n we come from different worlds.” He was leaning in.

“As long as I remember we grew up in the same one, yet you still managed to become an asshole,” you pushed his face away from yours.

“I think we’re getting a little bit mean again,” Tom rolled his eyes.

You remained quiet.

“I don’t know y/n, maybe they’re all right, I—”

“Who?”

“Everyone maybe we—have to I dunno,” He placed his hand on your leg and you raised your brows.

“What?”

He slowly wrapped his arm behind your shoulder and leaned closer. “I feel like we need to loosen up a little y/n.”

You felt your heart racing, you were angry, you didn’t like this and you didn’t want him to believe that you actually still fancied him, but this was all working, this is exactly where you technically wanted to have him. So, you had to give in.

“And what do you suggest?” Your voice was low.

“I don’t know, I’m giving in to all your flirting,” He laughed as he scooted closer.

You turned around, and laughed. “My flirting?

It felt like late 60’s, rock n roll

Tom, turned your head back to him. “Please you’ve been doing it since you came out of that interview.”

“Hm,” you nodded. “I remember being quiet.”

“And I remember those lips on my cheek,” he gently poked your lips, and maybe it was the alcohol speaking for itself but you wanted to kiss him, and kiss every single spot on his skin.

You cleared your throat. “Ah, please Tom, I was being nice,” you rolled your eyes.

But then you felt his lips against your neck, you instinctively closed your eyes.

“Hm, maybe be nicer?” he kept kissing your neck.

“Nicer?”

“You know, lips on mine,” he whispered.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re drunk, Tom”

“Maybe, but you are, too,” and with that he sealed the deal and closed the gap, combining your lips with yours. And maybe the driver had done it on purpose, or maybe it was faith or your imagination,, trying to get a perfect soundtrack for you, but ‘You Shook Me’ by Led Zeppelin was just the exact song you needed to listen to while kissing your enemy. But how far were you going to let yourself go?

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newmusickarl · 3 years

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Album & EP Recommendations

If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power by Halsey

Halsey’s evolution across her career has been quite something to witness. Having begun her career in pure pop territory, her artistry has developed over time with each new record seeing the American singer-songwriter up the ambition and scope of her music. Now with this her fourth album, Halsey has gone bigger than ever, teaming up with Nine Inch Nails members and Oscar-winning composers Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross for her boldest work to date.

Produced entirely by Reznor and Ross, Halsey describes this new record as “a concept album about the joys and horrors of pregnancy and childbirth.” Naturally with any concept record there is going to be a cinematic feel, however Halsey has gone one step further and even delivered a full theatrical film to accompany the album, the trailer for which you can watch above. Although I am yet to see the film, there is no doubt that the musical portion is a mightily ambitious and accomplished project, with each song seamlessly segueing into the next despite the array of styles and genres across each track.

It may still be a pop record at the heart, but with the masterful touch of Reznor and Ross, Halsey also brings in some industrial rock elements, as well as a bit of pop punk in places too. However, it is not just sonically that Halsey pushes the boundaries but also thematically as well, using the album’s concept to press the issue of feminism and misogyny within the lyrics. Arguably what’s most striking about this record though is how tightly constructed everything is here – under the watchful eye of Reznor and Ross, the dramatic production is inch-perfect.

Most importantly, the songs here are just fantastic, from the religious imagery and glistening synths that lace the wonderful melody of Bells of Santa Fe, to the raw, grungy guitars of You asked for this. There’s also the atmospheric piano ballad 1121, where Halsey really flexes her impressive vocal cords. Pulsating, stylish electro-pop single I am not a woman, I’m a god is another standout. Once you have been amazed by all of this, the gentle plucking and raindrop like xylophone of stunning closer Ya’aburnee arrives to really blow things away.

In a year packed full of outstanding pop records, Halsey has delivered, for my money, one of the best of the lot. With Reznor and Ross holding the reigns, they help Halsey deliver on her epic vision with both style and control. It’s one thing to attempt a record like this, it’s another thing to pull it off as expertly and vibrantly as this – hats off for this one!

Listen here

Screen Violence by CHVRCHES

Also delivering their fourth album this week was Scottish synth-pop group CHVRCHES who, whilst predominantly maintaining their vintage sound, have lyrically pushed themselves into darker territory on this new record. Probably their finest work since their debut, frontwoman Lauren Mayberry takes no prisoners as she tackles sexism and misogyny, calling upon her own experiences within the industry to really illustrate the issues being put front and centre.

This is highlighted best on electric single Good Girls, a track Mayberry wrote “after listening to some friends arguing about the present-day implications of loving certain problematic male artists – I was struck by the lengths that people would go to in order to excuse their heroes and how that was so juxtaposed to my own experiences in the world.”

Other highlights include He Said She Said, a glistening synth-driven pop banger that’s contrasted against razor-sharp lyrics with a defiant message at its core – catchy, but also powerful and thought-provoking. There’s also the superb collaboration with The Cure legend Robert Smith, How Not to Drown, which is a moody, atmospheric, and synth-soaked belter of a track. Although it is incredible right the way through, the real spine-tingling moment comes during the song’s outro thanks to the ghostly vocals of Smith being cast over some hauntingly melodic guitars. Outside of the singles, the rawness of heartbreaking closer Better If You Don’t leaves the biggest impression.

All in all, this album ranks amongst their best work and although it may not be quite as dramatic or impressionable as Halsey’s album, there’s still plenty to which you’ll want to digest and ultimately keep returning.

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How Long Do You Think It’s Gonna Last? By Big Red Machine

The National’s Aaron Dessner and Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon have certainly kept themselves busy over lockdown. It seems they weren’t satisfied with just taking Taylor Swift’s music to incredible new heights on 2020’s folklore and evermore, as they have now also released their second album under their Big Red Machine guise. The most noticeable thing about this second record is that the duo have extended their collaboration further this time around, bringing in renowned artists such as Ben Howard, Sharon Van Etten, Lisa Hannigan and Fleet Foxes, as well as two more collaborations with Miss Swift herself.

Given the talent involved, it is no surprise that this makes for a really special and stunning collection of songs. There’s wonderful electro-folk track Mimi, which sees singer-songwriter Ilsey Juber join Justin Vernon on lead vocal duties. Phoenix sees Robin Pecknold of Fleet Foxes and Anaïs Mitchell join in for a wonderful, horn-backed number. This track in fact isn’t the only time Anaïs Mitchell steals the show, as her beautiful, soothing vocal performances on opener Latter Days and closer New Auburn arguably provide the two best moments of the entire album.

The two tracks with Taylor Swift are also fantastic, with Renegade offering a sweet, pop cut that wouldn’t be out of place on either of Swift’s last two records. The better of the two though is Birch, a piano-driven, string-tinged ballad which sees Swift simply providing back-up vocals to Vernon’s haunting folky croons. It’s stunning and possibly my new favourite collaboration between the three artists.

Ultimately this is just a superb album, with Dessner and Vernon thriving alongside their chosen collaborators for a collection of songs that will frequently both move and astound you.

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Donda by Kanye West

Easily the most talked about album of the week, after several launch events and many, many delays, Kanye West finally released his long-awaited tenth studio album, Donda. Now anyone who knows me knows that I am not a fan of excessive, bloated albums, so with Donda clocking in at almost 2 hours long it was always going to struggle to win me over.

As expected, this is another West project that struggles with inconsistency, with moments of brilliance balanced out with plenty of moments that ultimately underwhelm. Although it has more high points than Ye and the production is more polished than Jesus Is King, there is no track as good as Ghost Town and sonically I found it less inspired than Jesus Is King in many ways. I’m not sure just yet if this is indeed the worst West album, but it is certainly down there in the bottom half for me.

That said, there are still some great moments to be found here. Once you get passed the massively irritating Donda Chant opener (honestly, so painful!), the Jay-Z featuring Jail offers an anthemic rock-influenced gem to get the album started properly. From there The Weeknd featuring Hurricane, the Lauryn Hill sampling Believe What I Say, the heavenly melody of Kid Cudi feature Moon and the organ-backed closer No Child Left Behind provide some of the other highlights. However possibly the finest moment comes in the form of Jesus Lord, a 9-minute epic that sees West deliver some of his best bars in years, returning to the social-consciousness that made him a star in the first place.

If you are a fan of West’s recent gospel-influenced work, then this album will reward you for your patience if you stick with it. For me, although there are some moments I enjoyed, the length was just too much, with this album having the same inconsistency problem that The Life of Pablo had but without reaching the same heights as that album did when it was at its best. Disappointing, but still somewhat worthwhile.

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The Awesome Album by Mouse Rat

And finally on the albums front, if like me you are a big Parks & Recreation fan, you’ll be pleased to hear that Chris Pratt’s fictional band from the show, Mouse Rat, have finally released their debut album this week. Featuring classics such as 5,000 Candle In The Wind and The Pit, this one is a lot of fun for fans of the show.

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Tracks of the Week

Good Ones by Charli XCX

Coming off the back of the definitive lockdown album How I’m Feeling Now that earned her both a Mercury Prize nomination and a place in my Top 5 albums of 2020, Charli XCX has returned with a new synth-driven banger that packs in an insanely catchy hook and wonderful 80s vibes.

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Family Ties by Baby Keem & Kendrick Lamar

Also making his return this week was King Kendrick who delivered a fantastic new collaboration with his cousin Baby Keem. Over a brilliant horn-driven beat, the two family members go toe-to-toe and bar-to-bar across this concise hip-hop banger.

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Alone by Rag N Bone Man & Nothing But Thieves

A remix of a track from Rory Graham’s latest album Life By Misadventure, this version sees Conor Mason of Nothing But Thieves join in on vocals, along with some triumphant rock production that replaces the stripped back nature of the album cut.

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Spirit Power & Soul by Johnny Marr

The brilliant first track from his forthcoming new EP, Spirit Power & Soul finds legendary guitarist Johnny Marr in fine form, sonically calling back to his days with Bernard Sumner in Electronic. Built on a masterful central riff, pulsating synths and a big anthemic chorus, it’s a belter!

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Nothing Else Matters by Chris Stapleton

And finally this week, we’ve had plenty of great, unique covers of Nothing Else Matters by Metallica already this year, with Miley Cyrus and Phoebe Bridgers already offering their own take on the classic song. However, I’ve always got time for another and this 8-minute epic from country singer Chris Stapleton is just as dazzling, thanks to some amazing bluesy guitars and his textured vocal performance.

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happymetalgirl · 3 years

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Five* Outside albums of 2020

I do this little list every year of my favorite albums that fall mostly “outside” the metal sphere and weren’t so metal-adjacent that I reviewed them formally during the year. The past three times I have written this little piece, I have kept it to five, but *this year, I’ve just had a hard time narrowing it down, so I figured, why do that? Well, I could go through a few dozen albums or so that I fucked with this year outside the metal sphere, but I’m compromising with the addition of a new, quick (we’ll see) honorable mention section.

So, in the interest of keeping my verbose tendencies in check, I’ll cut this introduction off and get into the honorable mentions.

Honorable Mentions:

Anna von Hausswolff - All Thoughts Fly

I did review Anna von Hausswolff’s previous record, Dead Magic, back in 2018 as part of my bunch of metal albums reviews that year, because it was kind of tangentially metallic. It wasn’t a lot at a technical level, only a few metallic elements here no there, but it had a lot of harrowing qualities that I thought metal listeners might appreciate. For the Swedish singer and pipe-organist, that album really was the closest she ever came to metal’s territory, and I don’t think any flirting with the genre was intentional on her part. Most of what she does is haunting, neoclassical, organ-based music that’s usually not as wild as what Dead Magic was, and this year’s album is a real scale back to her roots and an appreciation for the pipe organ. While I do miss her bewitching vocals on this entirely instrumental album, All Thoughts Fly stands well on its own merits as both a solid tribute to von Hausswolff’s organ playing and as a beautiful, incredibly immersive ambient album that does so much with its relatively small palette. I’ve talked a few times on here about really shitty ambient music that’s approached with a clearly lazy attitude because of its supposed background role. Rather than being made to be ignored, All Thoughts Fly pulls you in and around in a swirl of lush sounds that aren’t too common in ambient music, and with a relatively minimal approach, relying on the naturally serene tambre of the instrument to fill the space with a lightening, floating ambience and well-structured movements to do the gentle moving. It’s a beautiful example of what an ambient album can achieve if it’s actually made with a lot of love and care.

Shabaka & The Ancestors - We Are Sent Here by History

Okay, that first one went pretty long. I’ll try to keep the rest of these here relatively short. Sons of Kemet band leader, Shabaka Hutchings, takes his other group on slightly less chaotic Afro-jazz odessey that what Sons of Kemet have been delivering us. While more contained on the surface within the genre’s usual light grey areas, Shabaka & The Ancestors move with freedom and flexibility on this album in a way that highlights the natural appeals of the Afro-jazz sound pallet through constantly engaging arrangements from masters of the craft.

Lady Gaga - Chromatica

I know we’re all well aware of Lady Gaga, but the pop icon has been relatively quietly been making the best music of her career since taking the edge rather than the center of the spotlight, from 2013’s diverse Artpop to 2016’s more bare-bones Joanne. And now, after her mellower, more traditional Americana-influenced album in 2016, Gaga cranks the volume and the fun way back up. Chromatica is a blast of an album whose wide span of dance pop albums influences new and old keeps it varied and lively all the way through. This album feels very much like it’s Gaga unleashed, just doing her thing and having a good time with a bunch of dance music styles that she’s always loved, and it’s impossible not to feel that enthusiasm secondhand, and groove the hell out along with it.

Black Thought - Streams of Thought, Vol. 3: Cane & Abel

Black Thought has had nothing to prove since the relative inactivity of The Roots this past decade, but he has sure been rapping as if he does have something to prove on his solo work. The Philadelphia rapper put out a couple of EPs back in 2018 that showcased his impressive modern lyricism and flow, and the third, LP-sized installment in the series is just another offering of further proof of the man’s lyrical chops. There’s a little bit of an understated delivery in the music overall, but Black Thought really lets his words speak for themselves more than his moderate bravado. It’s not super flashy because it doesn’t need to be.

Phoebe Bridgers - Punisher

Indie folk has always loved to soak in the puddles of personal sadness, but Californian singer Phoebe Bridgers takes the style to whole new depths of personally gripping, bordering on the outright emo, and that is by all means a compliment for rather than a shot at. The album’s candid journaling of Bridgers’ personal struggles is so tangible and so genuine that it would probably rival Connor Oberst’s best work with Bright Eyes. It is just a beautiful, yet tear-inducing album.

Alright, now on to the five “main” “non-metal” albums of the “list proper”.

Hexvessel - Kindred

Hexvessel are a Finnish six-piece whose sixth album of psychedelic folk here manages to touch on the same haunting, gothic tones that groups like Opeth and Gazpacho do at their most forest-y. Indeed, Kindred is an enchanting album, with sprawling styles and a full-bodied sonic pallet to keep it interesting the whole way through. And it’s as strong in its more bombastic song like that which opens the album as it is in its more stripped back acoustic tracks like that which closes it. Songs like “Magical and Damned” straight-up evoke Mount Eerie, while songs like “Kindred Moon” hearken to The Beatles at their most minimal and folky, and there’s plenty of spooky, mystical energy to go around. Definitely one of the best finds of the year for me.

The Strokes - The New Abnormal

Coming at the end of a seven-year gap between it and their previous album, 2013’s somewhat fan-polarizing Comedown Machine (which I liked a lot), The Strokes’ aptly named return is a return to the spotlight, but hardly to normalcy or the musical roots in garage rock that so many of the band’s fans have been sweating for. Twisting the electronic alternative rock of their Angles era into some odd, but mesmerizing forms, The New Abnormal is a subtly wild ride of an album through lots of melancholic overtones and undertones whose impact is made all the more potent by the occasional teasing of sorts with the few more traditionally rockin’ moments on here. It doesn’t take long to pull back the seemingly preppy synth rock or 80’s rock curtains to find the melancholy beneath “Brooklyn Bridge to Chorus” and “Bad Decisions”, respectively. But the band aren’t even that subtle with the immediate depression of just the straight-up guitar melodies on songs like “Selfless”, “Not the Same Anymore”, and the chill-inducing soar of “Ode to the Mets”. The album’s prize piece, though, has to be the utterly gorgeous and empathetic minimalist synth song, “At the Door”, whose simple melodies and bare delivery make for one of the most gently heart-piercing songs I know and of my favorite songs of the year and probably my favorite Strokes song ever, as hard as it is to listen to. Welcome back Julien and company.

Rina Sawayama - Sawayama

Quite possibly the best outright pop album I have heard in a long while, Sawayama sounds simultaneously fresh and vintage in the landscape it was born into, making use of a lot of early 2000’s pop rock instrumentation, even some heavy metal guitars here and there, but most importantly, a real sense of passion that seems to be flat-out absent from so much of the pop that I (usually inadvertently) hear. I don’t want to overstate the prominence of the metal elements, but the album does have a bubbling, infectious energy both vocally and instrumentally from front to back that the occasional bursts of heavy guitars between Sawayama’s charismatic, dance-inducing performances do provide a good snapshot of. Furthermore, there’s a rich diversity of song types across the album that dive into the pop sphere beyond the standard trend-hopping that dominates streaming playlists and make for a dynamic and fun, rather than disjointed, pop album. And that’s all only possible with the consistently tight compositions o the album. Indeed, this is one of the best pop albums I have ever heard, certainly in recent years.

clipping. - Visions of Bodies Being Burned

clipping. are the second artist to be on here two years in a row after last year’s spectacularly spooky There Existed an Addiction to Blood, and Denzel Curry’s one-two punch of TA13OO and Zuu in 2018 and 2019 respectively. There Existed an Addiction to Blood was a thrilling and fresh take on many tropes of horrorcore with the band’s already forward-thinking and creative noise-driven instrumental production guiding harrowing stories of femme fatales and street violence in a more modern setting that often flipped the script on victims and perpetrators, as well as settings themselves. Visions of Bodies Being Burned is quite literally a continuing sequel to that explosive album, also released in time for Halloween this year; the material was recorded in the same sessions as the previous album and in the same unique vein. Consequently, there’s not really a whole lot I can say about this album in contrast with the last without getting way too in-depth and spoiling the fun. Whereas MC Daveed Diggs’ hooks were one of the biggest strong points of last year’s album, the creatively noisy production is the big star on this album. The fans seem to be leaning a bit more toward this year’s release, but I think I’m still a little partial to There Existed an Addiction to Blood. Nevertheless, Visions of Bodies Being Burned is a blood-pumping follow-up not to be missed.

Mac Miller - Circles

The posthumous release from Pennsylvanian rapper Mac Miller captures the man at his most chill and contemplative. The album is more of a minimalist ambient singer-songwriter sort of album than hip hop and its serene atmosphere becomes kind of inadvertently tragic in the posthumous context, but it serves as a beautiful swan song for the creative rapper whose struggles with addiction sadly prevented him from being able to bask in the deserved wide appreciation of his sixth album. Circles is a soulful, bittersweet cap to Mac Miller’s legacy that I think anyone will be able to feel the love and raw humanness of.

#Black Thought #Streams of Thought #Streams of Thought Vol 3 #Anna Von Hausswolff #All Thoughts Fly #The Strokes #The New Abnormal #Hexvessel #Kindred #Rina Sawayama #Sawayama #Phoebe Bridgers #Punisher #Lady Gaga #Chromatica #Shabaka and the Ancestors #We Are Sent Here by History

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firefield · 3 years

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David Bowie - Reality (2003)

“The thing, probably, that keeps me writing is this awful feeling that there are no absolutes. That there is no truth. That we are, as I’ve been thinking for so many years now, fully in the swirl of chaos theory.” DB, 2003

I always learn new things about David Bowie whenever I listen through his complete discography chronologically, and this run through is no different. As I get close to the end here, I’m reminded how much less I know about these later works, due simply to the fact that they have existed for a much shorter time, and my experience with them is more limited. “Reality” rocks more than I realized on release day, especially coming off the heels of “Heathen” with all its layers and mystery and subtleties. An empty house afforded the opportunity to really crank this one up, a vinyl pass, and CD pass, and finally the 5.1 surround sound edition - and yeah - DB said he wanted a simpler sound, and wanted a record that could be translated into a live show easily and effectively and he got that in spades.

As with all his post-80’s work, and especially his post-heart attack material, “Reality” embraces the darker and more cynical side of DB’s many characters - from the irony of the album title with album art portraying a very cartoony space-man Bowie looking about as unreal and non-Reality as possible and still be recognizable - to DB’s insistence that he made a “positive!” record despite themes of aging and death, loneliness and anonymity, geopolitical strife, day-in-day-out mundanity and the creeping threat of urbanization to nature. Regarding the subject matter of Reality he told Interview Magazine, “This is probably a period when, more than any other time, the idea that our absolutes are disintegrating is manifest in real terms. Truths that we always thought we could stand by are crumbling before our eyes. It really is quite traumatic.”

I read quotes like that and I think, for a guy that is largely known for (and criticized for) his ability to synthesize the past and his surroundings into something entirely David-Bowieingly unique, he certainly shows skill at synthesizing the future as well. Beyond things like financial chicanery like Bowie Bonds and the impact of the internet on the creation and distribution of music, Bowie often hit at the very essence of what unites as well as divides.

The seeds of this malleablity of truth that DB describes had been planted in my country during the civil rights movement and the tragedy of the Vietnam War, but began to flower and bloom after the 9/11 event - affecting Bowie’s home turf and his family profoundly. Heathen is prescient, Reality is a little angry about things. DB took time to specifically say what Reality was not: it was not an angry album, it was not a response to 9/11, it was not his “New York Album” - but then he’d spend just as much time gently walking back those claims, almost wondering aloud if it was, in fact, all of those things and more. He speaks around this time about how naturally writing music came to him. Unforced, calmly. I think this “flow” is why you can glean so many little contradictions about Reality and it’s intentions and meaning. He’s letting it happen, not dictating the plot; the tensions of that city and that moment in time allowed to mold and shape the work. Polar opposite to the Heathen recording environment at Allaire Studios in the Catskill Mountains, Reality was recorded in the cramped Studio B of Philip Glass’s Looking Glass Studios in NYC and both those disparate studio choices impact their respective products acutely.

Reality is Bowie’s most “hands-on” record since Diamond Dogs, employing all his multi-instrumentalist abilities, and it’s also one of his most thoroughly demoed. Most all of Reality was demoed out in Studio B by DB and Tony Visconti playing all the instruments, with Mario McNulty (the same engineer DB would later trust with the posthumous reimagining/re-recording of Never Let Me Down) as studio assistant. According to Tony, he had a feeling that many of these “demo tracks” would not ever actually be re-recorded, so they were laid down at a useable fidelity. Consequently, much of the demo material survived on the final album. The band brought in for final overdubs was chosen with the live show in mind specifically. This was a smaller, tighter unit of BowieLive veterans and by all accounts recording was smooth and productive.

New Killer Star opens the record, and is also Reality’s debut single (that contained one of his more surprising B-sides, Sigue Sigue Sputnik’s ‘Love Missle F1-11’) and is a spectacular Earl Slick led hazy, woozy guitar statement.

This is followed by The Modern Lovers - Pablo Picasso - recorded in 1972 but delayed until their 1976 debut. This track mimics the space occupied by the Pixies cover Cactus - the second track on Heathen - DB pulling tracks from his past that he enjoys and placing them where they give the record momentum. Quite a different interpretation if you have heard the original - DB took liberties with both the lyric and the arrangement and it’s a cool little track.

Never Get Old follows and addresses the common theme of time and aging in DB compositions…. (Cygnet Committee, Time, Hearts Filthy Lesson, Changes, Fantastic Voyage, and many more) and the composition itself references much of his past in Space Oddities countdown, the elongated guitar strands of Heroes, bits of melody from Crack City, the four-walls-closing-in sense of Low and some of Hunky Dory’s ominous moments. A pounding live favorite.

…and seamlessly right into The Loneliest Guy. Anyone who saw the Reality Tour knows the captivating power of this piece, and it’s honesty and fragility was one of a few reasons why I thought this would be DB’s final album.

Looking For Water. Man, I *love* this song. It’s one of my favorite vocal performances on Reality and would certainly end up on my list of “underrated DB songs” were I compelled to make one. I like repetition in music, and it’s hypnotic and mantra-esque qualities - and this is one that always gets a significant volume boost.

She’ll Drive The Big Car - a supercool stab of Bowie sash and swagger, and a killer vocal performance, masking some seriously sad lyrics. Bowie manages to sound defiant, tired, funky, deferential, sexy and soulful all in the course of a single song. He’s such an effortlessly great singer, that’s it’s easy to become so accustomed to it that you almost miss it. It’s just “him.”

The exceedingly sweet “Days” fits nicely with all of Realities reflections, and has for me become a song I pay much more attention to since we lost the man to cancer.

Fall Dog Bombs The Moon is one of DB’s most overtly political songs, and was apparently written very quickly - under a half and hour - and directly addresses the Iraq War and the profiteering involved. Relatively bleak with murky lyrics, it’s a interesting and unique DB composition.

Try Some, Buy Some is just beautiful and I think one of Bowie’s most interesting and genuinely heart-felt covers (along with Waterloo Sunset, also from these sessions.) The inspiration to do this song comes directly from the 1971 Ronnie Spector version and the impact it had on him personally. DB seems to be absolutely sincere when he claimed that he had completely forgotten that it was a George Harrison composition until he sat down to work on the album credits.

Next up is the sizzling rocker Reality that has one foot in Tin Machine and one foot in The Next Day. Love Earl’s guitar sound here. Like New Killer Star, the guitar layers in this one sound amazing on the 5.1 surround mix.

Ahh yeah. Another in an amazing number of fantastic Bowie album closers. I’ve made it a point in my life to quit ranking art into “good/better/best/sucks categories and hierarchies and see art as an experience, not a competition. My friends know this about me, and consequently tease me and attempt to prod me into breaking this creed. Under unrelenting pressure to name a “favorite David Bowie track” I named Bring Me The Disco King.

I could give many reasons why this would be the one…. The repetition I mentioned earlier, here found in Matt Chamberlain’s drum loop (interestingly snagged from ‘When The Boys Come Marching Home,’) the overwhelming sense I had when I first heard it that this was DB’s final record, the sense that the threat of jazz that had always pounded on David’s door in his chord structures and harmonies had finally broken down the door… the very tangible sense that this was a composition that had already had a long life but stayed tucked into the shadows by its unsatisfied creator, only to be given life and light on this great album after it had been stripped down to almost nothing - simplicity being the sought after key to its finally being allowed to soar. If it’s not already obvious, I think this song is magnificent. Literally. The fact that David knew it was deep inside there, he just had to mine it out over the course of a decade or so is extraordinary.

Couple of thoughts about a track that didn’t fit well on Reality but made it to bonus/B-sides…

How cool is his cover of The Kinks Waterloo Sunset? In the years after his death, when I feel that loss in my heart, it’s Waterloo Sunset I turn up to 11 and allow it to yank me back out of that murk.

“People so busy

makes me feel dizzy

but I don’t feel afraid

as long as I gaze on Waterloo Sunset

I am in paradise.”

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nerianasims · 3 years

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Billboard #1s 1984

Under the cut.

Yes -- "Owner of a Lonely Heart" -- January 21, 1984

The full version of this song is way too long. Not surprising from a former prog rock band. The music is good and interesting, but it loses me before the end even in the shorter single version. There's too much stuff. As for the lyrics, maybe that prog rock gloss made people think they were profound, but they look like self-help. Some incredibly 80s Reagan-era individualism, better to be alone than to be hurt, you're the only one you can count on, blah blah blah. Not for me. 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Culture Club -- "Karma Chameleon" -- February 4, 1984

The video to this song has nothing to do with it, unless there's supposed to be a connection between the con artist on the fantasy world 19th century steamboat and the guy who keeps coming and going whom Boy George is singing to. And I didn't fully realize the "you come and go" double entendre until just now. I like the video, anyway. And I like the song quite a bit. It's a very cheerful-sounding song about being strung along by some asshole.

Van Halen -- "Jump" -- February 25, 1984

Van Halen was something boys were into. It's weird how we delineate these things. At least back in 1984, if it got coded as a boy thing, then if you were a girl and also found it interesting, you'd damn well better hide it or certain other more socially powerful kids would tear you to shreds. That was my experience, anyway. (And if other girls were into it and you were not, you were also in serious trouble.) So though when I heard Van Halen songs I thought, "hm, I'm intrigued," I did not dare pursue that interest. Except for this song. This one was allowed. It's fun.

Kenny Loggins -- "Footloose" -- March 31, 1984

Footloose is a pretty good movie. At least I remember it being so when I eventually saw it in college in the 90s. Anything that stands against censorship, and for art and people having fun, already has an in with me. Also Kevin Bacon's great. The song isn't about the movie particularly; it's just about how dancing is wonderful. Though there is a hint at the movie: "You're playing so cool/ Obeying every rule/ Deep way down in your heart/ You're burning yearning for some/ Somebody to tell you/ That life ain't passing you by/ I'm trying to tell you/ It will if you don't even try." Yeah. Agatha Christie at one point lamented that young people in the 1950s were far too serious and self-righteous, and really needed to go dance in fountains. I feel the same now as she did then. Though wait until after the covid vaccine's been widely taken. Anyway, this is a good dance song.

Phil Collins -- "Against All Odds (Take A Look At Me Now)" -- April 21, 1984

It's a lament about being dumped. Apparently, Collins wrote it about his wife leaving him out of the blue, taking the kids and the dog with her. Ouch. There's a great drum part, which keeps the song from being too boring, but I still don't like it. Phil Collins' serious love/heartbreak songs don't do it for me. I find this one depressing without being cathartic.

Lionel Richie -- "Hello" -- May 12, 1984

I remember this video from when it was on the air. Mostly because of the Lionel Richie clay head. But also because I was like... is she his student? Isn't that a bad thing? Even though she's an adult in college, I still thought you weren't supposed to do that? I've had a major squick against teacher/student relationships, even in fiction, since I was a kid. Possibly this is because I come from a family of professors. (I didn't get a PhD and am therefore the black sheep.) Without reference to the video, the song is terrible. The lyrics are just repetitive cheese, whatever, but the song is so slow and blah and I don't like Lionel Richie's singing.

Deniece Williams -- "Let's Hear It For the Boy" -- May 26, 1984

I keep being surprised that there are people who think someone is worthless if they don't have a lot of money and don't dress fashionably. In this song, the titular boy also can't dance, but is that a thing that people get dinged for in reality? I don't know, maybe. This song was in Footloose, and it's the same sentiment as "My Guy"; her boy isn't some smooth-talking rich brat, but "he's my lovin' one-man show." He's like Edward Ferrars, not Willoughby. It's a fun song.

Cyndi Lauper -- "Time After Time" -- June 9, 1984

This is one of the greatest songs ever. Not just pop songs. Any song, of any type.

Duran Duran -- "The Reflex" -- June 23, 1984

These lyrics make no sense. That doesn't matter for this song much, which is all about the music. Which is not the best of Duran Duran's music. For all the many, many, MANY different musical ideas in it, it's actually kinda boring. They'd have done better to simplify. I imagine this sounds something like cocaine feels, though drinking way too many Mountain Dews to pull an all-nighter's my only comparison. Duran Duran were never my favorite, but I do enjoy many of their songs. This one, meh.

Prince -- "When Doves Cry" -- July 7, 1984

Prince only two songs after Cyndi Lauper? Is it my birthday? The song's lyrics start out being about the amazing chemistry between the narrator and "you." That establishes why they're together. Then Prince moves on to how they "scream at each other," and it's what it sounds like "when doves cry." He's accusatory -- "How could you just leave me standing/ Alone in a world so cold?" But then he goes right into thinking maybe it's his fault: "Maybe I'm just too demanding" etc. It's a sexy, thoughtful, and anguished song about a relationship in trouble. I like to think they'll overcome their problems and stop screaming at each other. Trust me, it's very possible. Also the music is great.

Ray Parker Jr. -- "Ghostbusters" -- August 11, 1984

Um. I have no idea how to evaluate this one. I heard it first in the theatre when I saw the movie, but I heard it years after every week when I watched the cartoon. It just... is.

Tina Turner -- "What's Love Got To Do With It" -- September 1, 1984

I have an overwhelming memory of hearing this song when I was alone in the grocery store as a teenager. I have no idea why the memory's so strong. Maybe it was the first time I went to the grocery store by myself? Maybe I ran into a guy I had a huge crush on, though I don't remember that? (If I was 16, that could have been one of any three guys... Romance is my secondary aspiration, after all.) In any case, it's a good song. The attempt to pretend love is a bunch of chemicals and doesn't truly matter is a pretty common one for the broken-hearted. And Tina Turner's great as always.

John Waite -- "Missing You" -- September 22, 1984

Two songs in a row about being in denial over matters of love. Interesting. This isn't the most fascinating song ever, but it's a good solid song about heartbreak that isn't gloopy at all. In the main vocals, Waite keeps insisting "I ain't missing you," but in the background is a soft voice that sings "missing you" over and over. That's a smart artistic move.

Prince and the Revolution -- "Let's Go Crazy" -- September 29, 1984

I liked a lot of pop music when I was 7, but I didn't get Prince. His songs sort of slid out of my brain as a "thing for grownups," and who could understand grownups? He was short and wore fancy outfits, and that's about all that registered. When I hit puberty, though... yeah. This song is more adult than that, though, and I don't mean sexually, though there is plenty of sex in this song. "You better live now/ Before the grim reaper come knocking on your door." The song is about sex, partying, and death. Also Prince was an astonishing guitarist, along with everything else. It's not one of my favorite Prince songs, because the lyrics are pretty depressing and it's super loud, but it's still great.

Stevie Wonder -- "I Just Called To Say I Love You" -- October 13, 1984

I never really listened to the background beep-de-boops in this song before. I've wondered before why this song, with its simple lyrics and melody, didn't bore me. It's the beep-de-boops. They, along with Stevie Wonder's perfect delivery, make this song musically complex. And the simple lyrics, with the more complex musical counterpoints, absolutely work. It helps that this is the kind of thing people really do.

Billy Ocean -- "Caribbean Queen" -- November 3, 1984

That heavy breathing after the line "I get so excited just from her perfume" is unfortunate. Otherwise, it's a song about how he met this "Caribbean Queen" on vacation and she "tamed" him so he's no longer looking for "love on the run." Sure, why not. I'd like a little more story to it, but that's me. It's got a good beat though, and is enjoyable enough as-is.

Wham! -- "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" -- November 17, 1984

I just realized I don't like this song. The beat and hook are sort of irresistible, and as a dance song the music absolutely works. But there's too much nostalgia about stuff that George Michael actually wasn't old enough to be nostalgic about. He was only 21 at the time, born in 1963, and yet he was singing about Doris Day. You can homage anything at any age, but... meh. And speaking of age, it's kind of a childish song and George Michael's voice was always more on the mature end, even if he was young at the time. For me, it hits a jarring note.

Daryl Hall & John Oates -- "Out of Touch" -- December 8, 1984

The beginning makes it sound like this is gonna be a relatively hard rock song, but that ends after a pretty short time. It's still really loud, with huge drums, and Hall pretty much shouts the song. Hall & Oates were great when they stripped stuff down. All this noise doesn't work for them. There are neat parts when all the noise suddenly stops and there's total silence, but then it goes right back to the rather uninteresting loudness. Not for me.

Madonna -- "Like A Virgin" -- December 22, 1984

And so it begins. Backstory: Madonna went to the same high school as my mother. She was friends (maybe more? he won't talk) with one of my uncles. When my grandmother saw the Like A Virgin album on the rack at the store, she said, "I'm so glad [he] didn't marry that girl." When my mother told me that, my reaction was "Are you kidding? We'd be rich!" But my family cares about PhDs and not money. My uncle ran wild in high school, but eventually became a successful career diplomat (and stopped being a jackass) after the woman he was in love with told him he'd better shape up or else. Also he looks a lot like Guy Ritchie, so that was weird for a while. I'd be in the grocery store and for a second think, "Why's my uncle on The Enquirer with Madonna?"

So anyway, the song. The way Madonna sang it in later iterations, I like it. I can't stand the version that became a #1 hit. The Betty Boop voice is just ugh. I love a lot of Madonna's music, and she would be something of an inspiration to me in later days, with her unapologetic persona as a woman who liked and wanted sex -- and enjoyed shocking the censorious -- but I was 8 at the time. I didn't get any of it, I just knew she sounded squeaky in this song and it bugged me.

BEST OF 1984: "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper. WORST OF 1984: "Hello" by Lionel Richie

#billboard number ones

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that-yandere-life · 5 years

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Soulmate Series: How You Meet (Part Two)

Peter Parker-

One day when you were 16 you noticed that little pen marks appeared on your skin.

It was a bunch of formulas for seemingly a chemistry class.

The next day however they were gone, in the same amount of time that ink stays on the skin.

Googling it feeling a little silly like maybe you just imagined it, you quickly got results for a type of soulmate bond.

Part of you wanted to write a note to them to see if anyone answered but at the same time you were afraid.

It took you years to place ink on your skin, until you were finally ready.

You had just suffered through another boring date, your twenties not quite living up to expectations.

Walking home that night you were approached by a man who held you at knifepoint for your bag.

Suddenly swooping in came Spider-Man saving the day, and potentially your life.

After he walked you home you couldn’t help but smile at the very thought of the encounter.

Before bed you started doodling the logo you had seen on his costume, drawing little hearts around it.

Words started to appear, causing you to realize that you had never given them and indication that you even existed.

Explaining yourself you saw the original mark fade as if they washed it off to continue communicating.

After talking until you both agreed to meet at a local coffee shop in a few hours.

Peter instantly recognized you as you walked in, realizing why you were sketching his Spider now.

How could you not feel lucky upon meeting this cute brown eyed boy with the curls?

Wanda Maximoff-

From the time she turned 16 Wanda always had a red ribbon tied around her wrist.

Finding out from others that it meant she had a soulmate, and one day the other end would lead her to them.

For a long time she ignored it, focusing on getting her revenge for the death of her family.

After the fight with Ultron, and narrowly avoiding the death of her brother she found herself longing to find her match.

One day she was out exploring the city after joining the Avengers, when she felt a tug at her wrist.

Deciding that it was time, she started following the ribbon wondering just how far it would take her.

Somehow it didn’t take long for her to reach you, as you lived nearby.

A few times you had tried to follow the ribbon only to get discouraged when it seemed they were never close enough.

Walking through the park you didn’t really pay attention to what was going on around you, until you saw someone stopped right in front of you.

Looking at them curiously you noticed them hold up their wrist, showing that the ribbon was connected to you.

Gasping you were shocked to say the least, but you couldn’t deny the excitement in your heart at finally finding the one for you.

Pietro Maximoff-

Sometimes when one has a soulmate when you turn 18 you get the first words they will speak to you, etched onto your skin.

Luckily you got one of the sweetest messages possible, and you were always hoping to find the one they belonged to.

Are you an angel?

Years passed with no instance of you being able to find the voice that would ring out with those words.

Working with the Avengers meant that you were constantly meeting people, but none were the one you were searching for.

That is until the battle with Ultron, and you saw the one called Quicksilver block Clint and a child from being harmed.

Unfortunately that meant he would likely die from his injuries, but not on your watch.

Rushing over you used your healing ability, using most of your stored energy to save his life.

“Come on, don’t die on me now!”

Pietro began coughing but breathing on his own again as the bullet wounds started to fade away.

Opening his eyes he gazed upon you, and to him you had an ethereal like glow surrounding you.

“Are you an angel?”

Unable to believe the words that just came out of his mouth you covered your own in shock.

“What you didn’t see that coming?”

Bucky Barnes-

Bucky had been told the story of his mother meeting his father so many times when he was younger.

They had been soulmates, the way they found out was she accidentally spilled hot coffee all over his lap and he was unharmed.

Many years later that information had been wiped from his memory, never thinking about soulmates again until he was in the healing process.

Slowly getting his memories back he recalled the story making him feel nostalgic and more lonely than ever.

Likely if he had a soulmate they would be dead by now, fate had not been kind to him in the least so why would it be now?

That was until you joined the team, and it was his job to train you on hand to hand combat.

Of course you were both nervous, but quickly got into the groove as you began to spar with each other.

Telling him not to go easy on you made him smirk as he was ready to make you eat your words.

That was until you were distracted and he managed to get a hit on your stomach.

You felt the impact but it didn’t hurt, it hardly even knocked the wind out of you.

Bucky was confused on why his hit didn’t land with more force, causing you to be able to punch him square in the jaw.

Stopping his movements he touched the spot you collided with not feeling any pain at all making his eyes go wide.

Having been told stories from your family as well you suddenly understood what they meant.

Both of you stood there in silence trying to process what the hell just happened.

Samuel Wilson-

No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get out of this mission.

Despite telling Fury and the others that he was about to meet his soulmate, they just didn’t seem to understand.

Pulling back his sleeve he looked at the countdown clock ticking away by the second, any moment and he should be meeting the love of his life.

That was when things went to shit and he couldn’t focus on it any more.

Over the comms he heard Steve yell about how the main target had a civilian with a gun to their head.

Sam was trained for situations just like this so he jumped into action approaching cautiously.

That was when you saw him for the first time, and should it have been under normal circumstances you both would have noticed the timer hit zero.

Carefully he tried to talk the guy into letting you go, but it seemed like they weren’t going to even acknowledge his attempts.

Taking a deep breath he hit a button, sending Redwing out hitting the guy straight in the head incapacitating him instantly.

Luckily he caught you before you hit the ground, unable to move independently because of the shock.

“I guess I did get to sweep you off your feet today after all.”

Gasping you looked at your wrist and then back at him with a soft smile.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad day after all, think of the story you will be able to tell your kids one day.

T’Challa-

Ever since you were born you had the outline of a handprint on your hip, your parents called it a birthmark.

However as you got older you discovered through research that it was the mark of a soulmate, where they would inevitably touch you for the first time.

Thankfully it was typically hidden by any article of clothing you wore, the amount of questions you would get otherwise would be unreal.

It also led you to wonder where you would touch your soulmate for the first time.

Working as an assistant for Tony Stark you ended up meeting a lot of interesting people, although none grasped you the right way.

That was until you were at a party he was hosting, a sea of people surrounding you for you to get utterly lost in.

Somehow in the commotion you were pushed into someone else, feeling them grasp your hip to steady you as you grabbed their shoulder to steady yourself.

Immediately you felt warmth coming from both places and you instantly realized what had just happened.

He stared at you in disbelief before letting go and bowing gracefully introducing himself in a muddled stream of consciousness.

Of course you couldn’t help but be endeared by this man who you had never officially met until now but who didn’t know who he was?

Never did you expect to be a King’s soulmate, but there he was showing you the now gold handprint on his shoulder.

Carol Danvers-

One day after your 18th birthday you started hearing music playing, sometimes it was singing other times it was the actual song.

For a little bit you thought you might be going crazy, that was when a doctor told you about soulmate connections.

Thankfully your soulmate listened to halfway decent songs, mostly comprised of 80’s and 90’s hits.

You could only imagine the stuff that they heard as you worked in a karaoke bar in the evenings.

Sometimes you had nights with great singers and choices in song, but others were the rejects of American Idol in the flesh it seemed.

Never once did you hear the same thing you were listening to, which meant that you were not in close proximity to them.

Until one day you walked into work humming along to the tune in your head, only to realize that it was playing inside the bar.

Taking a few deep breaths you looked around seeing two women singing and laughing with each other just having fun.

Then you watched as the blonde haired one started searching for something...or someone.

Maybe they could hear that you were nearby, could it be that you were each other’s soulmate?

“Let me go crazy, crazy on you.”

Singing it gently in your ear, knowing for sure that you were what the other had been hunting for, for so long.

Stephen Strange-

It could be said that Stephen never really gave much thought to his soulmate, until he became a Sorcerer.

Having the coordinates on where he was meant to meet them, the first time he traveled there he hoped you would be waiting for him.

For all he knew you had given up on meeting him, since it had been a long time for him to reach the point where he was actively searching for you.

Plus there was always the time period to consider, what if he met you in a time that wasn’t considered his own?

Stopping in various time periods he never seemed to meet anyone there.

Until one day he returned there to try again, and there was someone sitting under a nearby tree watching as he approached.

Noticing him stop in the spot where you were supposed to meet you had to rub your eyes to make sure you had actually seen him.

Having gone there on the same day once a week since you discovered what the numbers meant.

Somehow you just never gone at the same time until now.

Walking over to him you raised your pant leg showing him that you had the coordinates too.

Stephen vowed to himself from that moment on to never let you go again.

Wade Wilson-

For the longest you could remember you went to bed drunk, and woke up with a killer hangover.

However you hadn’t drank a drop of alcohol, it was all your soulmate.

Whoever they were you couldn’t help but pity them despite your obvious frustrations with having to deal with all the consequences but none of the fun.

It was clear that their life wasn’t going the greatest, just by the amount that the drinking had increased.

Unfortunately you overslept one morning due to still being drunk, effectively losing your job.

Not that you cared much, it was just a shitty part time job, but you needed it to live.

So to give your soulmate a taste of their own medicine you walked to the nearest dive bar, not the best of places but you didn’t care anymore.

The next few hours were a blur, until a man in a red suit entered the establishment already swaying.

“Finally it seems my soulmate grew some balls, I can’t even see straight. Well I never see straight if you know what I mean reader.”

Overhearing the part about the soulmate your ears perked up.

“I haven’t drank since last night and I’m shitfaced.”

Of course this mysterious man would likely be your soulmate, nothing normal ever happened to you.

“Well maybe if you wouldn’t drink every fucking night they wouldn’t lose their job, and have to get drunk in the middle of the damn day.”

You growled louder than you meant to catching his attention.

Tilting his head to the side he was processing the information, realizing that you had to be the one connected to him.

“You don’t want me for a soulmate anyway.”He scoffed turning back around.

[Part two! Please let me know if you want me to do another one with the X-Men and other X-Force type characters! <3333 The more feedback I get, the more I do with soulmates! Thank you lovelies! <3]

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unibrowzz · 3 years

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Mod (finally) reviews all 67 winners of the Eurovision Song Contest Part IV: The 1980s

Ah yes, the 80s. One of my favourite decades for music overall, and one of the only decades in Eurovision where I wouldn’t immediately jump at the chance to change most of the songs that won, the other decade being the 2000s.

But at least with the 80s there was more quality songs per year, whereas the 2000s was mostly drivel.

I also count the 80s as being somewhat of a turning point in the contest’s history, and by that I mean it always seemed to me like it was the decade where the UK really began to stop caring. Most people know the song that won in 1985, but nobody knows what won in 1986. Everyone knows Johnny Logan won twice, but couldn’t name his second song. Everyone knows Celine Dion competed, but can’t remember if she won or what she sang.

That and countries also started experimenting with more modern sounds and outfits towards the end. The early 80s is just an extension of the 70s I swear.

But that’s enough of all that, how do I find the winning songs?

1980- What’s Another Year?

Country: Ireland

Artist: Johnny Logan

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the song that makes every 50something woman in the UK and Ireland all doey-eyed and rosy cheeked as they remember back to when they were a teenager watching this on TV and drooling at the lovely looking sad Irishman singing his sorrows into the microphone. Or that’s my experience with this song anyway. Another experience is that most vintage fans I know tend to dislike this song on the grounds of it beating out [insert song here] Everyone has their favourite from 1980 since it was honestly a pretty strong year, but even though this song isn’t my first place for that year I can still clearly see why it won. See, 1980 had a lot of pop songs, so a slow, sad song like this one was bound to stand out, whether it was popular or not. Luckily for this one, it turned out to be a popular choice. Other songs wouldn’t be so lucky… Back on track though. Like I said, this is a very sad and melancholy song with sad and melancholy lyrics, which not only made it stand out in its year, but also made it stand out amongst other Eurovision songs of its time. It’s strange to think, but at this point in the contest’s history there hadn’t been a winner with lyrics so solemn and personal. See, in modern Eurovision, every other song is the artist baring their soul about their horrible ex-boyfriend, or their depression, or past abuse, or whatever, so knowing there was a period where songs like that were so rare is just… surreal to me.

Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Greece tbh, I don’t mind this one

If no, what is? Greece- Anna Vissi- “Autostop”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 23rd

1981: Making Your Mind Up

Country: United Kingdom

Artist: Bucks Fizz

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the UK winner that nobody really likes, but the BBC still forces at us anyway because they’re proud they came up with a gimmick that everybody remembers. Or maybe it’s not that well remembered, but nobody would know that because we’re reminded of it every year. This song is… alright. Just alright. The first listen of this one is always the best, because after a while it just gets kind of annoying. The singing ESPECIALLY starts to grate you for a while. Even in the studio version the two girls sound unbearably shrill and whiny, and I’m not sure if that’s their fault or the songwriter’s (since if I remember correctly only one of them was a professional singer). I’m seriously convinced there’s no way for a female vocalist to pull this off without sounding terrible. Again, this one’s perfectly fine and serviceable, but that doesn’t mask the fact it’s still the worst UK winner and the worst winner of the 1980s too.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Portugal- Carlos Paião- “Playback”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 58th

1982: Ein Bißchen Frieden

Country: West Germany

Artist: Nicole

Language: German (Translation: “A little peace”)

Thoughts: This song gives me a really warm, nostalgic feeling, and I don’t know why. I mean, I know this one did well internationally, so it’s possible I just heard it as a kid, but given how I grew up in the early 2000s, “Eurovision is a shitty freak show full of weirdos from the USSR who gang up on the UK and don't vote for us on purpose” era Britain, that’s highly unlikely. Anyways, this is such a warm, fuzzy kind of song. It has a lovely… round-the-campfire, singalong kind of vibe, like this is meant to be sung by a load of long haired hippies with flowers in their hair and CND symbols drawn on their cheeks. And it’s… … Also kind of bland. If you’ve been reading my personal winners so far, you’ll have noticed I definitely have a soft spot for old German entries, so it’s a shame I find the one song they actually won with to be so… generic. It’s like they got tired of being unique so decided to send the same saccharine fluff everyone else was sending, and guess what, it paid off majorly, because this song was a huge hit at the time. Something about that kind of bothers me, like, out of all the entries they sent, it’s the one that’s the most “Eurovision-y” that ended up winning. And there’s something depressing in that.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? United Kingdom- Bardo- “One Step Further”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 50th

1983: Si la vie est Cadeau

Country: Luxembourg

Artist: Corinne Hermés

Language: French (Translation: “If life were a gift”)

Thoughts: You want a tip on how to stand out amongst Eurovision fans? Say you like this song. Probably won’t make you very popular, but you’ll stand out at least. I will confess, I, too, was part of the hate-wagon for this song. Like most fans I knew, I’d complain about how boring and uninteresting it was and how it, ahem, “robbed” so many other entries, and how basic it was, et cetera, et cetera. But… honestly? It’s not even that bad. Sure I had other favourites from 1983 (the ones I could stand watching anyway, the host that year was so unimaginably terrible I gave up watching halfway through. I DARE you to watch the whole thing without wanting to neck yourself), but this song gets way more hate than it deserves. I honestly don’t think this song is half as bad as I made it out to be myself, or as bad as the fandom makes it out to be. It’s got a decent melody, some solid vocals, some appealingly 80s instrumental, like there’s a lot I like here. …Until you read the lyrics and realise they’re almost as half-assed and lazy as All Kinds of Everything’s, but I digress. Did I prefer other songs from that year? Of course. Am I going to complain about this one winning? Nah. It’s alright.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Sweden- Carola Häggkvist- “Främling”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 41st

1984- Diggiloo, Diggiley

Country: Sweden

Artist: Herreys

Language: Swedish

Thoughts: Whenever I was a younger fan I used to describe this song as being drunk-dad-at-a-wedding-music performed by three sentient Ken dolls, and I still stand by that statement. And I don’t really know how else to describe this one. It certainly has its charm, and it’s still a likeable song, but it also feels very… vapid. Like if this song were a person, they’d be a bit of a bimbo. And I mean, the song’s about how the singer’s oh-so-happy and prancing down the street in his brand new shoes, so that’s probably a fair description. Part of me wonders if that’s down to old Eurovision songs being vapid in general or if it’s down to the schlager genre itself requiring songs to be kinda neutered and happy-go-lucky, but even though I do like this song, it does come off as being a bit bland. A bit by-the-numbers and playing-it-safe. And I don’t mind songs like that, but I’d rather they didn’t win, y’know?

Is this my personal winner for this year? Not really

If no, what is? Italy- Alice & Franco- “Il Treni di Tozeur”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 15th

1985- La det Swinge

Country: Norway

Artist: Bobbysocks

Language: Norwegian

Thoughts: Ah yes, the song which finally hauled Norway into first place after years of being a regular last-placer. Maybe the UK should take some notes instead of blaming Brexit. Or Russia. Or Iraq. Or anything other than their own apathy, for that matter. But this is about La det Swinge and not the UK, so what are my thoughts on it? Well it’s… It’s the kind of song I imagine my mom and aunt would sing at a wedding if they ever attended one. It’s a very fun song, a little cheesy, sure, but it’s hard to not like a song that’s this upbeat and cheery. And yeah I know it’s because it’s schlager and that’s generally a really cheerful genre by default, I touched on that in the review above,

Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Israel

If no, what is? Israel- Yizhar Cohen- “Olé Olé”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 14th

1986- J’aime la Vie

Country: Belgium

Artist: Sandra Kim

Language: French

Thoughts: This song is an enigma because I’m an absolute slut for 80s pop, yet, for some reason, I find this song painfully average and uninteresting. Now, I’ll get it off my chest and say that 1986 was also a painfully average and uninteresting year, and most of the time I just felt myself remembering the singer more than the song, and even then I struggle to remember what some of the acts even were. It was just such a boring blur of a year I’m surprised the juries even managed to stay awake to pick a winner. And I GUESS you could argue that this song is so upbeat and peppy that it woke them up, but that doesn’t excuse how bloody generic it is. Like, this is the most generic 80s song you can imagine, and not in a good way. It feels more like stock music than an actual publicly released pop song. Had it not won, I doubt it would’ve stood out to me at all; it would’ve just faded into the background with all the other muted, 80s-coloured mush from this year. Basically, there’s a reason the singer’s age is the only thing noteworthy about this song.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Not really

If no, what is? Luxembourg- Sherisse Laurence- “L’amour de ma vie”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 49th

1987- Hold me Now

Country: Ireland

Artist: Johnny Logan

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the superior Johnny Logan winner. And I’m not sure why everyone forgets this one because Mother of Mercy this song is in another league entirely compared to the other schlock Ireland’s won with. Like this is their best winner, no competition. One of their best songs overall as well. One of the best entries from the 80s, one of the best winners of the 80s, one of the best winners… Yeah, I really like this song. I’ll admit to sleeping on this one for too long myself, always dismissing it as some boring Irish ballad to go with all the other boring Irish ballads they somehow managed to win with (we’ll get to that later), and always agreeing with people who said XYZ country (always Yugolslavia) should have won instead. Basically I learnt the hard way to never judge a song on its country and genre. But one day I found myself in the midst of a revisiting trip, going back to winners I didn't pay much attention to, just to see if there was anything I’d missed the first time round. And something about the lyrics in this song resonated with me a lot more than I thought they would. In a strange way, it made me feel older; like I’d grown up and was able to relate to the words in a song and appreciate it more than I could when I was younger. The line “what do you say when words are not enough?” especially hits harder than it should; as someone with autism I tend to find showing emotions difficult, even in virtual conversation where I’m not using my voice or face, because… Well, what do you say when your words aren’t enough?

Is this my personal winner for this year? Yes

If no, what is? N/A

Personal ranking (out of 67): 2nd

1988- Ne Partez pas Sans Moi

Country: Switzerland

Artist: Céline Dion

Language: French

Thoughts: Telling people Céline Dion won this thing is a new favourite hobby of mine, just to see the confused reaction. And that’s the most interesting thing about this song because it’s… fine, I guess? It’s a perfectly serviceable 80s power ballad, but there’s no bells and whistles to make me sit up and declare it any better than just “okay”. It’s basically the ballad equivalent of J’aime la Vie from 1986, in that it’s extremely 80s and also in French, but there’s nothing to make it that memorable aside from the singer herself. And even then this isn’t the song that made her famous anyway. Even her singing doesn't make this one stand out, partially because the song doesn't do anything special with it, and partially because she just blends in with all the other good singers of this era. And that’s kinda sad to think about.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Hmmm....

If no, what is? Greece- Afroditi Frida- “Clown”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 22nd

1989- Rock Me

Country: Yugoslavia

Artist: Riva

Language: Croatian

Thoughts: So this is another song it really took me a while to get into (there’s lots of those, trust me) and one that was very briefly in my top three overall favourites. It’s slid down a few slots since then, though I would still say it’s… Somewhere in the top 15. I don’t really have a lot to say about this one, if I’m honest. It’s just a good, fun, solid song which stood out in a very dull and ballad-saturated year, nothing more, nothing less. The lyrics are nice too, being about a bored musician who learns to love music again by teaching himself how to play pop songs to entertain his friends. That’s a unique subject and I can imagine it resonating with a lot of people who’ve fallen out with a hobby they used to love because they took it too seriously (providing they either speak Croatian or have looked up the lyrics, of course). I mean, it resonates with me at least. All in all, I just like this song for its message more than anything else.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Portugal- Da Vinci- “Conquistador”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 9th

#Eurovision #mod's winner reviews #posting now because the tag will be CHAOS come 7 lmao #esc winners

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eds-trashmouth · 5 years

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PolyJAMorous

A/N: hi I hate this! But it’s here and it’s not what I intended but I hope you like it regardless. I’ve also decided that people probably don’t care about word count and all that so I’m not going to put it on anymore (unless you guys want me to) Thank you for the support and the next one will be better. I promise ❤️

A road trip was certainly not how the losers thought they would be spending their summer break before they all packed up and headed off to college. Yet, Richie had the bright idea to make the trip from Derry, Maine to Colorado. He’d come up with the idea a week or so into the start of their senior year. Luckily they’d had all school year to plan and save up money.

Richie got a job at the Aladdin, the local theater, taking tickets and cleaning up after the shows. He ended up making decent money and buying a used suv by the middle of the year. He had to cut out smokes but Eddie says it’s better that way. He’d do anything for Eddie so giving up cigarettes was nothing, although on his very stressful days Bev was nice enough to share a cig or two with him.

Eddie on the other hand, wasn’t allowed to get a job. Mrs. K turned down that idea almost immediately, yelling about how any job he would get as a teenager would be flipping burgers and she couldn’t have her precious Eddiebear flipping burgers in a “disgusting” fast food place. So, he decided he would tutor some underclassmen after school. He had put up flyers around campus to try to get some tutoring jobs but ultimately he didn’t get that many. He even tried to back out of the trip because he felt bad for having less than everyone else. Richie was the first to shut that idea down. “You’re going Spaghetti. Even if I have to pay for you myself. It’s a losers trip. Gotta have all seven of us!”

It took Beverly until the middle of the school year to finally find a job. Through no fault of her own, it seems that when the whole town thinks you’re dirty as a child, you don’t find many people who forget that kind of thing. She eventually landed a job with Richie at the theater. She suspected the Trashmouth himself had something to do with that, but she knew he’d never tell.

Now, Mike and Stan had a pretty easy time finding work. They’d been together since Sophomore year and Stan loved helping out on the farm, so Mike asked his grandfather if they could get paid for some of the farm work. It took a little convincing but by the third week of school, Mike and Stan were already getting their first week of pay. Stan definitely enjoyed rubbing it in Richie’s face that he got to see his boyfriend and get paid to do so. Maybe Richie took a quick glance at Eddie when he did so. Maybe he didn’t.

Bill also had a pretty easy time finding work. There was a new YMCA opening up in Derry and Bill already had experience lifeguarding for the past two summers so he applied to work at their pool. Obviously he got it, and he even snuck the losers in a few times for a late night swim.

Ben had been working at the library since sophomore year so he didn’t have to do much worrying. He had the money saved up by December, and a little extra for Eddie just incase. Although, Richie already called dibs on paying for Eddie. Even if Eddie didn’t know it yet.

Today was finally the day. They’d made it through the school year and even stayed for graduation. The losers had all met up at Richie’s to help get ready for the trip. The sun was blazing down upon them as they packed everything into the van. Each loser had a duffle bag and they’d brought a cooler filled with lunchables, sodas, and flavored waters requested by Stan and Eddie. It didn’t take too long to load everything and hit the road.

Richie insisted on taking the first shift driving. The trip was a whole days worth of travel, inevitably they would need to stop for gas, food, and possibly even a hotel but Richie was determined to drive as much as he could before stopping. This trip was his baby, he’d been planning it all year. They hadn’t really set a destination yet, other than Colorado, the whole idea was to just decide to stop somewhere pretty. Of the losers, Richie, Ben, Bill, and Mike were the only ones with a license, they’d done the math and needed to switch every 7 hours or so.

“What are these idiots thinking?!” From the passenger seat, Eddie rolled his eyes. The roads were bustling by mid day, and the cars were just flying by. “Don’t they know the speed limit is only 70? They’re going to cause an accident.”

“Eds, I’m only going 65. They’re probably going like 75 or 80.”

“Well regardless, that’s still over the speed limit Richie! It’s dangerous!” Eddie was talking with his hands, overly exaggerating everything, giving it the emphasis he always seemed to. Richie couldn’t help but glance at the boy beside him. He smiled fondly as Eddie noticed his attention. “Eyes on the road Chee!”

“Would you two lovebirds q-quit bickering? I’m t-trying to nap before it’s my turn to drive.” Richie peeked into his rear view mirror to see Bill with his eyes still closed and his head on Ben’s shoulder in the very back seat. Ben didn’t seem to mind the intrusion, his attention was fully on the game Beverly was playing next to him. Stan and Mike were seated in the middle of the vehicle, a bench seat to share, and wearing one earbud each watching Netflix. Richie would’ve gagged had he not fully intended on doing the same with Eddie once he was done driving.

“Let’s listen to some classic Richie tunes then Spaghetti! Everyone else is doing they’re own thing.” He could see Eddie roll his eyes once more in his peripheral vision before he leaned down to get the aux cord for Richie. He laid his hand out, waiting for Richie’s phone, which he gladly handed over. “Alright, I wanna listen to something good. Let me think.”

“I’m playing something while you decide then.” Eddie already went to work, plugging in the aux and setting up the radio. He opened the phone with his thumb and in seconds was on Richie’s Spotify. Richie couldn’t help but think how much of a routine this was. Just for them. None of the losers had their thumb print on his phone, everyone else had to ask how to work the radio or where his aux was, but not Eddie. His Eddie.

“No Jonas Brothers. That’s my only request.”

“You love them, don’t pretend to be hardcore.” Eddie was already scrolling down his playlist to search. Before long a familiar beat filled the air. A Jonas Brothers song.

“Don’t out me like that, and then play my favorite JB song. You can’t do me like that Eds.”

“Not my name, and this is your punishment for calling Spaghetti as well.” Don’t Throw It Away off their newest album blessed the speakers. Richie couldn’t stop himself and soon began screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs. His fingers tapped happily to the beat, while he danced in his seat. As the chorus hit and Richie had given into the music, he glanced over to see Eddie recording him.

“I know I’m famous but no pictures please. I’m just trying to live my truth!” Richie’s hand came up to cover the camera while he let out a loud laugh. Eddie was too quick for him though and moved the phone right out of his reach, leaning into the side door.

“Hands on the wheel and eyes on the road. You wouldn’t want us to die before we even get to Colorado would you? And besides, I have to document the trip. This is the last trip that we all get to have together before we move on.”

“I’ll never move on from you Spaghetti.” With his eyes still on the road, Richie tried grabbing for Eddie’s cheek only to get smacked away from the boy himself.

“Ha ha. Very funny Trashmouth. You know what I mean. We all have our own livings waiting for us when we get back. I want to remember this. Remember us Chee.” Out of the corner of his eyes Richie could see the slight flush on the boys face. “The losers that is. All of us.”

“Eddie,” Beverly spoke up from the back. “You know we’ll still be best friends right? Us going to college doesn’t change that. We can still have movie nights and study dates. Sure, it’ll be different because it’ll be through a screen but we will still be together. Once a loser, always a loser.”

The car fell into a comfortable silence after that. Richie’s mind always wondering to Eddie. This trip was really important to him, and Richie didn’t even know it. Eddie hadn’t told him and he hadn’t noticed. What kind of best friend is he? He couldn’t even see how worried Eddie was about the future. The future of the losers club. Of course Richie knew they’d always be together in some way, but he shouldn’t have assumed Eddie was feeling the same.

“Hey Eds,” Richie made sure to talk quietly, a conversation just for them. Eddie turned his attention from the road to Richie with a slight hum. “You know you’re my best friend right? And nothing will ever change that. Not even distance.” Eddie nodded in understanding but turned back to the window. Richie glanced at the time. They’d been driving for about 6 hours at that point, and the gas tank was getting pretty low.

“Alright. We’re stopping, we need some gas and then it’ll be Big Bill’s turn.” There was a chorus of okays as he looked for an exit with a gas station. Luckily the next one was only 10 miles down the road. He pulled off the exit and into a Speedway. “Go pee now! No accidents in my baby please!”

Everyone did their business and Bill paid for this round of gas. Richie checked the cooler to find only four more lunchables and a few flavored waters. He grabbed for the extra soda he’d packed to fill up the cooler again, making a mental note that they all needed a proper meal soon. Everyone piled back into the suv, Bill and Ben in the front, Stan and Mike once again on their middle seat, and Eddie Richie and Bev on the back bench seat. Then they were back on the road.

“Hey Eds, do you wanna watch some Netflix or something? I brought earbuds.” Eddie was in the middle of him and Bev and currently watching Bev play whatever game on her Switch. He’d been watching her since they left the gas station about an hour ago and Richie was jealous. Not of Beverly of course, just that she was getting Eddie’s attention. Richie had already listen to her explain her game to him, twice, and he wanted some Eddie time.

“Maybe later Rich. Bev is just about to beat this level but she only has like four units left. It’s really intense.” He didn’t even glance in Richie’s direction. If he would’ve, he would see the pout on his face and the hurt in his eyes.

“I don’t know what that means. What game are you even playing?” He was still pouting.

“Fire Emblem dude. I’ve already said that like five times since you’ve been back here. The new game came out and I’m obsessed. You get an X amount of fighters, they all have different abilities, and you have to try to kill all the enemies on the board. This game makes you a professor, so you have to train your students. This is a big deal. My class is about to kick ass. Now shush. It’s intense.”

“Sorry.” Eddie barely spoke as he continued watching Bev. Richie simply hung his head and plugged in his earbuds. He knew he was being a little ridiculous but he couldn’t help it. He’d spent 6 hours driving so it’s not like Eddie got much of his attention, and he deserved all of it. That just wasn’t in the cards this trip it seemed. It didn’t take long for Richie to get bored of Netflix, he was just watching old episodes of Criminal Minds anyways. Not even his guilty pleasure show could lift his mood. Looking over at Eddie once more, the other lad was still watching Beverly, but he also had his phone out on Instagram. Beverly had already finished the battle and he wasn’t even fully watching her. Yet, he hadn’t said a word to Richie. He’d be lying if he said that didn’t hurt, but he didn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want to be annoyed for hours either. Unless it was Eddie annoying him of course.

Richie went back to his own little world, turning on his ‘sad boi’ playlist, it felt fitting. He knew it was silly, but he felt like a fool. Of course Eddie would rather do anything else than spend this trip with Richie. This was his last trip with most of their friends, but Richie was going to UCLA with him. Why would he want to spend time with him? He already had to spend at least four more years with his annoying friend who made stupid jokes that weren’t even funny...and was secretly in love with him.

Fuck.

Richie’s mind was jerked to consciousness as the car came to a stop. He didn’t even remember falling asleep. With a yawn, he lifted his head off the arm of the seat. Man, his neck was killing him. As he cracked his neck he wondered how he even fell asleep lying on that in the first place. The doors were slammed open as everyone filed out one by one. Richie being the last to emerge, he caught a glimpse of the Taco Bell beside them and realized he was indeed starving.

“Lets fucking eat!” Beverly exclaimed running toward the restaurant doors. Everyone followed suit and mumbled their agreement. Eddie fell behind with Richie.

“Hey Chee. Did you have a nice sleep?” Richie didn’t even bother lifting his head as he simply shrugged. His mind was still elsewhere. He’d never admitted to himself that the things he was feeling were more than platonic but now it’s the only thing he could think of. The way he enjoyed the other boy’s attention, his eyes, his lips, his whole fucking face. He wasn’t ready to reveal his feelings so he suppressed them, even if it meant ignoring Eddie. He was sure Eddie would be relived anyways.

“Did you wanna watch Netflix after we eat? I’ve been looking forward to that Blake Anderson movie you downloaded.” Richie finally looked at him, honestly in shock that the other still wanted something to do with him. Which was a mistake. He shouldn’t have looked, then he wouldn’t have caught the sun in Eddie’s eyes.

“Nah it’s okay Eds. You can keep watching Bev play, I don’t mind.” Richie waved him off as they stepped inside.

“But I want to! Have you seen the trailer for Game Over Man? It looks fucking hilarious.”

“Oh. Sure, you can watch it. I think I’m just going to drive the rest of the way. I took a nap.” With that, Richie walked to the register to order. The other losers were already sat a table toward the back, waiting for their food. Eddie could pretend to want to spend time with him, but Richie could tell he wasn’t interested in the car. What would change that now? He had accepted it, and just wanted to drive. It helped him get away. Neither boy spoke the entire time they were eating, while the others engaged in casual conversation. If they noticed the two being quiet they didn’t mention it.

“Hey. I’m going to drive. I napped.” Richie grabbed the keys from Bill as he started toward the drivers side. He didn’t wait for a reply as he got in and started the suv. They had around 8 more hours until the reached Colorado and Richie intended on driving the entire way. It seemed like every could sense the tension but was too afraid to say anything. By the 20 hours mark everyone in the back was sleeping soundly while Richie jammed out. Everyone except Eddie. He’d been listening to Richie play half a song then change it, then listen to half another song then change it, and so on, for the past hour and a half. Richie knew he was probably being annoying, but he was more interested in keeping his mind off his own insecurities than noticing. It took another five songs for Eddie to finally snap.

“What the fuck Richard? Why do you keep changing the song?! Let one finish.” Richie didn’t need to look at him to know he was rolling his eyes, and probably pouting as well.

“Eds, did you just meme me? The meme lord.”

“First of all. No one says meme lord anymore. Second of all. We haven’t listened to a full song in hours, and it’s driving me insane.”

“I have multiple favorite songs and I love them equally. What can I say? I’m polyjamorous.”

“Ugh. Just shut up and pick a fucking song already.” Eddie turned his body to look out the window as he went silent and crossed his arms. Richie didn’t say another word, simply choosing a playlist and letting it play. This was going to be the longest five hours of Richie’s life. He hated making Eddie upset, but he didn’t want to open his dumb mouth and make everything worse. He always made everything worse...

“Hey, uh, Eds?” Richie finally broke the silence, Eddie had been staring out the window for two hours now and Richie was starting to worry. “I’m sorry about the music.” Eddie’s attention snapped to him as he turned back to him.

“That’s not why I’m upset idiot. Why are you being like this? We barely talked this entire trip! I was really looking forward to this, but now I’m just thinking it was a mistake.” Richie sneaked a glance in his direction before turning back to the road. He saw Eddie’s hurt expression and suddenly felt like an asshole.

“You made it pretty clear earlier that you weren’t interested in watching anything with me. I was just making it easier for you, by taking myself out of the equation. You can do what you wanna do now.”

“What? What are you talking about? I literally asked if you would watch it with me!”

“I know you only asked because I seemed down. But I’m okay Eds. You could’ve watched Bev play more. I didn’t take it personally don’t worry.” Richie tried to give a smile but it didn’t even meet his eyes.

“No Chee. I am worried. You’re talking non sense. I asked because I wanted to spend time with you. Dumbass. I was only watching Beverly because you needed to sleep! You’d just driven like seven hours in the early morning and I know you don’t sleep at night.” Richie’s eyes widened at Eddie’s words. He was officially speechless. Eddie wanted to spend time with him? He was just worried?...about Richie’s well-being? No way. No way Richie had misread the entire situation. No way.

“Richie. If you don’t say something I’m going to be more upset. Just being honest.” Eddie’s arms were once again crossed.

“I...don’t know what to say. I thought you seemed really disinterested in Netflix...with me.”

“I’d watch anything with you.” Eddie’s voice was so soft, Richie had to lean closer to even hear him.

“But...why?”

“Because I love you. You big dumb idiot.” Richie’s hands gripped the steering wheel as his brain processed what was just said. Platonic Richie. Platonic. He means it platonically....doesn’t he? Of course he does.

“Richie...” Eddie’s voice was soft once again as he leaned over to lay his hand on Richie’s. “When we stop, we should really talk.”

-Taglist

@richietoaster @geckolover001 @pennys-pet-kitty @aesteddie @elhopps @summerxle @mexicanqt @punkrocktozier @richietczicr @tozier-club @kristashae @princesass-theresa @dandeliontozier @doctor-lobster @queennugget3 @halfway-happy353 @reddieafterdark @beep-beep-reddie @hmufinn @stanuterus @not-reddie @curlywheelers @i-is-gazebo @temptedtozier @reddie-to-fight @girasol-eddie @mirandonsky @annoyingtozier @sedanleystanley @richieshawaiianshirts @tyrror @slingingwingingspidey @themarvelousmissmadge @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @constantreaderfool @muffin-berry @eddiekazier @reddie-to-go @did-someone-say-reddie @queen-sock

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or removed! (Or your name changed or something)

#reddie #kat writes #reddie fanfic #road trip au #im sorry it sucks

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johannesviii · 4 years

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Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2019

The last list, for now. It’s been a wild ride.

Not the best of these lists, but some really refreshing stuff charted that year, and what was good was super good. And also, here’s a barely elligible #1 that nobody seemed to care about for some reason.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

In 2019, my finger was fixed, I dropkicked depression in the garbage bin (with a little help from Eurovision because it was super good and full of hilarious shit), got married, and went on a roadtrip on Vancouver Island (BC, Canada), and that was my first real travel in 13 years. Met a lot of great people, seen amazing places, trees, bears and whales. And planes are also part of the adventure when you’re not used to them (you can watch movies on little screens from your seat now?? I had no idea. I watched so many movies). It was very exciting.

I also saw VNV Nation live in February, for the third time in six years. This time I had enough budget to buy a tshirt. I wasn’t expecting that concert to be even better than the previous two. At that point the new album had only been out for a couple of months and we still knew the lyrics of most of the new songs and Ronan’s face was constantly broadcasting a kind of “...........how” expression (face it guys, we like you. A lot). And they finished with All Of Our Sins and let me tell you, half the club was ready to start a revolution by the time that was over. Super intense.

Ok. 2019 albums! First, let’s talk about some negative things. Coldplay released Everyday Life at the end of the year. It was... uh. It was basically how I stopped loving their new stuff. That’s a very sad conclusion (for now) to this saga. This is exactly what I feared would have happened after Viva La Vida, aka them trying to go back to their earlier sound - except in the meantime we’ve got three fantastic albums with songs full of energy and joy. So I’m not too mad about this, just disappointed.

Within Temptation released Resist, and it wasn’t very good either, but I appreciated the general aesthetic of it. More SF-themed albums in symphonic metal, please. NF released The Search and while I’m still not a fan there’s a song on it that would have been #1 on this list if it had been elligible, so that’s something. And Carly Rae Jepsen released Dedicated and it was super good so why isn’t she getting new hits. Why. It feels unfair. Oh, and Avantasia made Moonglow and that’s the first time I’ve cared about their stuff in like a decade or so. Ghost In The Moon is super good, check it out.

But the big event of the year music-wise, as far as I’m concerned, was the return of two bands I thought we had lost forever. Of course My Chemical Romance reformed, but they don’t have new music yet, so the main event for this post is the return of Tool with Fear Inoculum. It’s not even their best album, but having a pretty good new Tool album in the year of our lord 2019 wasn’t at all something I was counting on. Of course, the hardcore fans are still as insufferable as ever (insert the “you need a pretty high IQ” copypasta here), but it didn’t spoil my enjoyment of it. Come on! Their first album in 13 years! 80 minutes of hypnotic heavy rhythms and weird shit, an album that trolled me when I opened it by playing a music video while I was looking somewhere else (yeah I jumped), and they even managed to land a track for one week on the US hot 100! Again, Tool! On the hot 100! in 2019! Unbelievable. Are we starting to return to the good timeline? I certainly hope so.

Unelligible songs, now. The Search by NF would have topped this list super easily. Might be one of the songs I listened to the most in 2019, actually. Now That I Found You by Carly Rae Jepsen, again, should have been a hit, and I beg you to watch this music video if you’ve never seen it. The 1975 released the super unexpected People, which was still good, and also Frail State of Mind. And most unexpected of all, three artists I didn’t care about at all teamed up and made absolute gold: I Think I’m OKAY, by Machine Gun Kelly, YUNGBLUD and Travis Barker. That would have been the second slot on this list if it had been elligible. Or maybe the first, even? Not sure. I’m just so happy this kind of angry but uplifting music is starting to become popular again. I just love everything about this song.

Here’s a short list of honorable mentions!

Roi (Bilal Hassani) - I don’t like this song a lot, but I do like it, I’m glad it was our song for the ESC 2019, and Bilal is a very nice and endearing person, and everyone who disrespects him on twitter is free to come fight me in the pit, where I’m still waiting with that tambourine from my 1992 list.

Con Calma (Daddy Yankee, Katy Perry, Snow) - You already know I liked the original Informer a lot, so I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pleased to hear this clone of it on the radio.

Breathin’ (Ariana Grande) - Here’s the usual “if I had better taste this would be higher” honorable mention.

Summer Days (Martin Garrix) - In the absence of any new hit song from Macklemore this will do in a pinch.

Circles (Post Malone) - The fact that everyone seems to adore this and I’m over there saying “it’s ok I guess” probably means I will never love Post Malone nor understand the hype about him, and that’s okay, I can live with that.

High Hopes (Panic! At the Disco) - Still elligible. Still good but too borderline annoying to make the list.

How Do You Sleep (Sam Smith) - This year Sam Smith pulled a Viva La Vida and decided to stop making boring music all of a sudden and I’m LIVING FOR THIS. I certainly hope they continue in that direction.

And now, the list.

10 - La Grenade (Clara Luciani)

US: Not on the list / FR: #55

The only semi-filler on the list. I still like it a lot. Don’t have anything to say about it, though.

9 - Panini (Lil Nas X)

US: #40 / FR: Not on the list

Wasn’t too impressed by this at first and it took a while to grow on me, but the chorus is a nice little earworm, and “hey panini, don’t you be a meanie” has a tendency to pop in my head when I read hateful comments on the internet now. And Lil Nas X is just too endearing to be ignored. We’re so lucky to have someone who became famous so quickly and instantly decided to dress like a Jojo character and have the geekiest music videos possible and still be super nice and humble. We don’t deserve this guy.

8 - Dance Monkey (Tones And I)

US: Not on the list / FR: #6

I’m super glad the US are finally getting on the hype train in 2020 because this is a ton of fun. If the voice was juuuuuust a little less grating this would be even higher. Impossible to get it out of your head and somehow in this case that’s a good thing.

7 - Dancing With a Stranger (Sam Smith & Normani)

US: #14 / FR: Not on the list

As I said in the honorable mentions, Sam Smith pulled a Viva La Vida and decided to stop making boring music all of a sudden and I couldn’t be happier about that. This song is still a bit too calm for my taste most of the time, but when I’m in the right mood, it’s just fantastic.

Again, I hope Sam Smith continues in that direction, because if you had told me a couple of years ago that I would start to like their stuff one day, I would have laughed out loud.

6 - Bad Guy (Billie Eilish)

US: #4 / FR: #16

Duh.

I’m not as enthusiastic about When The Party’s Over as a ton of people are, mostly because, well, it’s a slow emotional song with little to no colour in it and by now you’re already aware I tend to have next to zero interest in that kind of songs. Bad Guy, on the other hand, is half hilarious half scary in equal doses, and even if I’m not super fond of the weird outro, it’s still a fantastic, weird as shit song, and I’m really glad Billie Eilish exists. Can’t wait to see where she goes from there.

I’m super glad this song didn’t come out when I was a teenager myself though. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I would have survived if the musical landscape from 16 years ago had been as depressed as it currently is. Thank god music is slowly getting more energetic again in 2020. Let’s stay on that track.

5 - Hey Look Ma I Made It (Panic! At The Disco)

US: #61 / FR: Not on the list

I follow several music critics on youtube and over the course of 2019, I’ve seen undiluted vitriol and hatred against this song (Spectrum Pulse even made a list of his “worst hit songs” of the decade and put this one at #10! TEN!!). And... I don’t really get where it’s coming from? Maybe I’m too literal-minded to see what the problem is with a sarcastic song saying “look I sold out and now I found success again! And it’s not that great!”. I just think it’s a lot of fun. Thank god Todd put it on his best list, at least we can agree on one thing for once.

It is hilarious that after putting so many Fall Out Boy songs on my lists, the one that I love the most from Panic! is the sellout song. Not sure why this was huge while the even better Say Amen wasn’t, though.

4 - Sunflower (Swae Lee & Post Malone)

US: #2 / FR: Not on the list

I usually don’t get the “chill” songs that tend to be successful these days but this one, unlike most Post Malone songs (bar Circles), has lovely pastel colors and a cloudy texture and it’s a really good vibe. It took several months to grow on me but it sure did.

In about ten years, people will listen to Sunflower and be submerged by nostalgia, mark my words.

3 - Old Town Road (Lil Nas X)

US: #1 / FR: #1 (see, everyone agrees for once)

Everyone on the planet already wrote a thinkpiece about this song and yet I’ve only seen maybe one out of five mentioning, just in passing, that the entire song is based on a Nine Inch Nail track from Ghosts I-IV, superbly re-used to make a weird and insanely catchy country hip hop song out of it. Ghosts has been one of my go-to albums to listen to while I’m painting for about ten years now. I’m saying all this because hearing a track from Ghosts on the radio for months was absolute bliss for me, especially in a new and improved version.

Thank you Lil Nas X for everything you’ve been doing and I wish you a long and successful career. You deserve it. I love this and I love you.

2 - Bury A Friend (Billie Eilish)

US: #73 / FR: Not on the list

Hello again, Billie Eilish.

This song is absolutely terrifying and that was before I even saw the music video. This is the soundtrack of your nightmares right there. I’m not even sure it deserves to be so high on the list, but frankly I’m too terrified to care. Maybe Old Town Road should be higher. I don’t know.

Also you have to know that when I’m super tired I go into echolalia mode and automatically repeat words or entire sentences that my brain considers interesting, like “potiron” (pumpkin) or “dramatique” ; and recently, my brain decided “when we all fall asleep, where do we go?”, sung exactly like it’s sung in this song, was its new favorite sentence. So. Hearing yourself saying that to an empty room while you’re drawing or folding clothes or cleaning plates is not a very pleasant experience, and it makes this song extra scary to me.

And now, here’s the last #1 of the last one of these lists (for now), and I’m glad to announce it closes this series of posts in a super fitting way.

Check this out. It’s so perfect in every way.

1 - Walk Me Home (Pink)

US: #99 / FR: Not on the list

Nobody seemed to care about this song over the course of 2019, and it's barely elligible, and I still have no idea why. The music reviewers I follow only either talked about it super briefly when it came out, or not at all. The rare ones who were making top 100s at the end of the year instead of top 10s usually put it somewhere in the middle of their lists. And yet it’s the elligible song I’ve listened to the most.

If you’ve been reading this series of posts for a while now, you probably already know exactly why it’s here, but here’s a quick recap.

The second album I ever bought in my life was Pink’s Missundaztood in 2002, and I loved her music a lot:

I was still really fond of her stuff in 2007:

Then she started to become less interesting and I basically ignored her apart from a brief blip on my radar in 2017:

Meanwhile, in 2012, fun. made some of the best songs of the entire decade before vanishing instantly, and I’ve been mourning them ever since:

And in the middle of last year, here I am, listening to the radio, and suddenly I hear something that sounds exactly like a fun. song, except I’ve never heard it before and it’s sung by a female singer, and, most importantly, it’s 2019 and fun. broke up more than six years earlier. And I’m like, what’s going on. This is so good. What the hell. What is this.

And I hear it a second time weeks later, and I google it, and I discovered that 1) it was Pink singing this, which made it my favorite Pink song in literally more than ten years, and 2) it was, indeed, written by one of the guys from fun., among other people who’s influence is less obvious.

I guess the main lesson from 2019, between newcomers making great music based on dead trends, old groups reforming, and this song, is that nothing’s gone forever, and things you used to enjoy can come back at the most unexpected time and in the most unexpected form.

There’s always, always gonna be new music to love, and it’s just a question of time.

Quick note

And with this, these lists are over... for now.

I don’t regret making them even if they were a ton of work, because that was super useful for a lot of different reasons.

They helped me get a better understanding of my own life’s chronology. That may sound stupid but I tend to link events to the music I was listening to at the time, and putting all that music in chronological order helped a lot.

I rediscovered a ton of songs I had completely forgotten about, and a lot of new ones. My playlist is much richer now and I’m happy about that.

I also discovered a few artists I knew nothing about.

It forced me to analyse two depressive episodes in my life and just because everything was now in exact chronological order, it accidentally helped me pinpoint what caused both of them. Better and cheaper than therapy. Impressive.

It made me realise how important some bands and artists had been in my life, and I relistened to some of their catalogue while making these lists. For some it was really obvious (Indochine, Placebo, Mylène Farmer, My Chemical Romance among some others), and for some others (Moby, Linkin Park, Mika in particular), it was a real surprise.

It made me realise that Placebo might have been huge in France but weirdly enough not that huge in the UK nor in the US. It’s especially striking when you look at their wikipedia page in English then in French and realise how detailed the French one is compared to the English one. Can’t believe Sleeping With Ghosts was a n°1 album here and basically nowhere else. That was the band where that discrepency was the most obvious but it wasn’t the only one like that. Really puts stuff in perspective.

It also helped me realise how cyclical popular music is. 1) trends tend to die near the end of every decade and the worst year is usually somewhere between the 8th and the 9th year. 2008 and 2018 tend to confirm this. 2) For the same reason, some new & interesting stuff appears at the beginning of every decade, and reaches its high point of quality between the 2nd and 4th year of the decade. 3) Basically I’m saying we’ve now passed the lowest musical quality in recent memory and 2022-2023 will have some exceptional music.

See you in December 2020. I have no doubt there’s a ton of great music coming up in the near future.

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #the last one #I can't believe this is over #I loved making these lists #spider tw #eye contact tw

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littlemixnet · 4 years

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Jade Thirlwall on how Little Mix’s new era is all about having fun

Has there ever been a time when we’ve needed a glorious new Little Mix single more than right now? Probably not.

The UK’s biggest girl group are back for their sixth era and have brought with them an 80s-tinged pop anthem that’ll swoop you out of your isolation blues.

Written by Jade Thirlwall, Perrie Edwards and Leigh-Anne Pinnock with Kamille, Frank Nobel and Linus Nordstrom, Break Up Song is a whopper of a return, pairing love-lorn lyrics with sky-soaring synths.

While working from home this week, we caught up with Jade over the phone to speak about Little Mix’s highly-anticipated new album, Leigh-Anne’s iconic new mullet, how they have protected the well-being of contestants on their upcoming BBC One talent show and, of course, which queens she’s enjoying on the latest season of Drag Race.

Hi Jade! How are you coping in isolation? Not too bad. I haven’t got cabin fever just yet.

I follow you on Instagram and saw that you’ve already completed a Disney castle Lego set… Oh yeah, what a dream!

That’s one way to keep yourself occupied. Have you got any more Lego sets left? No but I’ve ordered more! I’ve got jigsaws and board games and stuff like that, so as it stands I’m quite highly entertained to be honest.

I love how you’re going old school with it. None of this House Party app stuff. [Laughs] Well I am a bit of a Nana!

Well a new Little Mix single is exactly what we all need right now. Yes, 100%. I love that it’s a very uplifting, happy, cheery pop song. That’s what Little Mix are best at I think. I’m really excited for this new era.

Break Up Song is a brilliant return, so why did you decide on that track to kick-start the LM6 era? There was actually a different song that was the front-runner for the first single, and Break Up Song pretty much swooped in at the last minute. The video was ready and everything for this other song. We wrote Break Up Song over a year ago and we listened to it again in the playback session and we were like, ‘wait a minute – this should be the first single.’ So we called the label and was like, ‘This has to be it now.’ We got that jittery feeling that we had with Shout Out To My Ex and Black Magic where it just felt special.

It’s definitely one of those songs that you find yourself getting lost in – it kind of encapsulates you. Yeah, I love that. I agree. It’s one of those songs that you want to listen to again right after. I just had a really good feeling about it, so hopefully everyone else feels the same.

How did the 80s vibe come about? When we’re writing, we work really well when we’re given a definite brief. Whether it’s an era of music or a very strong concept, that’s when we write the best music. We were playing around in the studio with Kamille, Frank Nobel and Linus Nordstrom with the synths, and it just sort of happened. This was well before artists right now started coming out with more of the 80s vibe. I know The Weeknd brought out an 80s vibe song, and so has Dua Lipa. It was before that happened so it’s quite a coincidence. I guess it’s a good thing now that that’s where Top 10 is at at the minute.

Can we talk about Leigh-Anne’s mullet for a second please. What a serve. Honestly, it’s iconic isn’t it? Nobody else could’ve pulled that mullet off!

As soon as you see it you’re like, ‘I never knew I needed this in my life’. How did you all decide on which classic 80s look you’d get? Well hun, I’ve got a bloody mountain of hair on my head so I could never have squashed that mullet on! So I worked with what I’ve got and went for the side sweep and kept all me long hair out. Then obviously the video shoot as well – which is a shame it ended up getting cancelled because of everything that is going on at the minute – but we wanted to go the whole 80s hog and do the full shebang. We came up with the treatment and everything and it was really exciting, but we’re still going to do something really cool for the video. We just like going all-out, don’t we? If you’re going to do something, you’d better commit to it.

For you personally, what’s your favourite thing about 80s pop culture? I just love how full-on it was. I’m all or nothing, me. I’m either very androgynous – which really suits the 80s era with that Bowie vibe – or like drag queen vibes. I loved that in the 80s all the lads were rocking make-up and hair like it was nothing. It’s a shame it sort of died down. I loved a bit of Bananarama. I loved Diana Ross when she was going out of that sort of dancey era. Obviously I wasn’t alive in the 80s, but I have memories of sitting with my dad watching VH1 Classics where I’d see it all.

So you’ve been busy at work on the sixth album – what can you tell us about that? With this era we haven’t over-thought it. We’ve just gone with what feels good and not worried as much about what’s cool or what people will want to hear. It’s very much been, ‘OK, this is an amazing song – it’s going on the album.’ That has lifted a weight off our shoulders really. It was quite a stressful process for LM5 and the change of labels and everything. For this, we were very much left to have fun and get back to what we really love about being Little Mix.

The best music is always made when an artist is having fun with it and there’s an authenticity to it. Yeah, 100% – and that’s not to say we didn’t love LM5 because we wrote so much of that album and we put so much into it. That whole era was very much about what we stood for; female empowerment, women’s rights and it was very topical in that moment. It’s something we are very passionate about. We really did get that message across. But we’ve done that now, so now it’s time to let our hair down a bit and have some fun.

You’ve always pushed the Little Mix sound throughout your career, but have managed to retain a sense of identity with it as well. Whatever direction you go in, you always know it’s a Little Mix song. What do you think, at this point, is the key ingredient for a Little Mix song? Whatever sounds popular at that minute, we’ll also be like, ‘OK, let’s jump on it and do it, but make it Little Mix’ instead of just cloning what everyone else is doing. We’re a girl band so immediately it’s different for us. I wouldn’t say it’s harder, but we always have to make sure that we don’t sound too cheesy because we are a pop girl group and people automatically have this weird sort of opinion about pop groups in general. So it’s about constantly proving ourselves and it’s why we can adapt with the times. We’ve been together for nearly nine years now, so the proof is in the pudding that we’re managing to adapt and change with every era, while still remaining Little Mix-y. We’ve also maintained the fans who have been with us from the beginning, while keeping the younger audience as well. It’s about being authentic and sticking to our guns in who we are and what we want to do. It’s been a very gradual process. When we were 18, we very much looked 18! But with each year we’ve grown as women.

And now you’re searching for a new band! Little Mix: The Search is coming soon. Talk about coming full circle from being put together on a talent show to creating your own new group all these years later. How have you found being on the other side of that process? It’s so bizarre – it’s very strange. Obviously we’ve been in their position and we know how that feels to be standing in front of judges and singing for them. So I feel like we really relate to the contestants more and really empathise with them and make sure the process is as fun as it can possibly be for them. It’s been really difficult to say ‘no’ to people, because we’ve had those knock-backs before. It can be really crushing. It has been emotionally draining having to let people go. It’s hard telling people that they’re not quite there yet. But on the other side, we have found some insanely talented people and it’s just so exciting. Every single group that we’ve formed are special in their own way.

As you say, you’ve been through a process like this yourself, so did you all make sure you put in protections for the contestants from the off? We’ve very much been involved through the whole process. A massive chunk of the budget for the show has gone on after care and mental health. There’s going to be counsellors there constantly looking after the contestants in the house. Even if someone doesn’t get through we have an after care process where the researchers call them up each week to check in on how they are. There’s been a lot of focus on making sure they are looked after, which I think we could have very much done with back in the day! It was really very important to us to make sure that was put in place.

You said earlier that you’re heading into your ninth year as a group, which means that 10th anniversary is on the horizon. Have you started to think about how you’d like to celebrate that because it’s a huge milestone? Honestly I can’t believe it. Especially with the other girls because they’ve all got partners and they’re settled down and grown up, and I’m just sitting here thinking, ‘Bloody hell, when did this all happen?’ Obviously we’ll be putting on a big tour and we’ll have the new album. I don’t know exactly what we’ll be doing next year – especially with everything going on. Things are being pushed back. We just take each day as it comes to be honest. I’m still having an absolute ball.

Whatever it is it’ll be something celebratory because 10 years is a massive achievement. Oh absolutely – and you know me, I’ll be at every bloody Pride going next year! Especially now they’ve been cancelled this year. It’s all very upsetting, but hopefully we can perform at some big Prides next year.

Obviously I need to talk to you about Drag Race. You’ve been watching the new season so do you have any early favourites? Yeah! Who am I liking at the minute? Who’s the really model-y one? Is it Gigi?

Yes, Gigi Goode! We love her. She is really serving the looks. I do love a Look Queen. But to me, as it stands, there’s not any proper front-runners yet.

It feels like a very strong season from the off. Yeah exactly, which is amazing. Even last week when Rock M. Sakura got sent home, I was like, ‘Wow I didn’t expect that.’ I didn’t expect the first queen to go home either. It’s very entertaining and it’ll keep us all entertained while we’re indoors. Very much here for it. Who’s your favourite?

I really like Gigi too, and I actually really like Heidi N Closet. She’s really funny. Yes she is funny! I like the French one as well, Nicky Doll. I think she’s a bit of a dark horse.

When you were a guest judge on Drag Race UK last year was it everything you expected it to be? When I tell you that that was one of the best days of my life… I was in my absolute element. It was just heaven on Earth. I was proper fan-girling. I was trying my best to act really cool and be the glamorous pop star who didn’t care, but inside I was screaming! It was just perfect. It was amazing being on set and seeing how it all works. Seeing them lip sync to one of our songs was incredible! I made a few friends off the back of it as well. I still speak with The Vivienne quite a lot. I’d love to do it again.

Did you feel the pressure when they did the runway to come up with funny quips about their looks? When we were on set they actually said for the UK one that RuPaul, Michelle Visage and Graham Norton very much believe in it, so I told myself, ‘Oh here hun, shut your hole’. The last thing I want to do is try to crack a joke that doesn’t get a laugh, do you know what I mean? So I thought I’d just shut up for that bit! But I feel like I served some good lines during the critiques and stuff, so I was happy with that.

As a fan of the show for many years, did appearing as a guest judge change your perception of it in any way? If anything it made me love it even more. I was especially happy that my first appearance on it was for the UK one. If I’m totally honest, before I turned up I was thinking ‘I dunno how they’re going to make the UK one not feel less…’ But actually when I got there I was pleasantly surprised. After watching it as well, I feel like the UK was the best one for me. I loved the British humour and how they didn’t Americanise it too much. I loved seeing all the behind-the-scenes of the show. The studio is absolutely freezing so that none of the queens’ make-up melted! I was sitting with a hot water bottle on my lap under the desk.

The British queens really pulled through and I’m now really excited for the second season of the UK version. Absolutely, and now everyone has seen how amazing it is, even more queens are going to want to do it.

Little Mix’s new single Break Up Song is available to stream now.

#jade thirlwall #lm6 #break up song promo #27mar20 #article #this was a cute interview and i didnt wanna annoy you all with every single quote so here is the full thing

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