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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years

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Horror / Six: The Musical AU (X Reader) || Headcanons

Explanation: So all the songs are being sun by different readers with different Henry’s (The Horror Villains of course) instead of one Henry. I think its pretty straight forward apart from that! I hope to make a second part to this where the readers actually meet up and complain about their times with their respective horror villains. This is fun XD Had the idea a couple months back and I posted it and one blog commented saying Six is their favourite musical, so this is basically for me and them haha XD

Character Included: Michael Myers, Chucky / Charles Lee Ray (And Tiffany Valentine), Bubba Sawyer, Norman Bates, Mayor Buckman (And Harper Alexandre) and Jason Voorhees.

Warnings: Murder of the readers (By respective Horror Villains and a non-explicit difficult birth in Bubba’s), birth / pregnancy, toxic / abusive relationships, sexual harrassment / maybe rape (All You Wanna Do- Buckmans), language, suggested mother / son grossness (Norman and Norma of course).

I laugh in the face of those who would subdue my mad ideas.

‘No Way’ (Reader as Catherine of Aragon): Michael Myers as Henry

My name's Catherine of Aragon Was married 24 years I'm a paragon of royalty, my loyalty is to the Vatican So if you try to dump me You won't try that again

You were in a, of course, very unequal relationship with the shape of Haddonfield. He saw you one day, was completely taken by you, and decided to let you live. He would come by and use you however he liked, kill the people you loved when they got your attention over him, etc. Like any other Michael Myers x Reader.

And, years and years later (Because it’s not like Michael finds someone every day that he gives even a bit of a shit about like he does - did, - you) he comes upon a new person. Someone he, like he was you, is drawn to.

And he tries to drop you like a hot potato.

And this infuriates you. You are not about to let go! He has ruined your life! You have no friends, no family, no life, because of him! All you have, is (regrettably) him and you are going to be his for the rest of your life. That’s what he wanted, that’s what the bastard’s going to get.

(Many, many years with him has caused your courage against him to grow spectacularly. You can say nearly anything to him)

|- ‘You must agree that, baby, in all the time I been by your side

I've never lost control’

‘I've put up with your sh- like every single day’ -|

You give him one more chance- if he can tell you one thing that you have done to him to legitimately hurt him… then you’ll leave willingly.

…

But he has nothing. And he doesn’t care.

|- ‘You got me down on my knees

Please tell me what you think I've done wrong

Been humble, been loyal, I've tried to swallow my pride all along

If you can just explain a single thing

I've done to cause you pain, I'll go

No?’ -|

|- ‘You wanna replace me? Baby, there's

N-n-n-n-n-n-no way

You made me a wife, so I'll be queen 'til the end of my life’ -|

He ends up strangling you to death when you won’t shut up.

‘Don’t Lose Your Head’ (Reader as Anne Boleyn): Chucky / Charles Lee Ray as Henry (And Tiffany as Catherine of Aragon)

I'm that Boleyn girl and I'm up next See I broke England from the church Yeah, I'm that sexy Why did I lose my head? Well, my sleeves may be green but my lipstick's red

Chucky and his filthy ass catches sight of you. Young, French and vivacious and he’s got heart eyes on the spot. He wants you, but he also doesn’t really want to lose Tiffany.

So... yeah, you end up living with them both for a while and its very awkward and a very hostile situation.

|- ‘Here we go

(You sent him kisses)

I didn't know I would move in with his misses

(What?)

Get a life

(You're living with his wife?)

Like, what was I meant to do?’ -|

You don’t like it. No one likes this. Chucky! Make up your mind!

|- ‘Three in the bed and the little one said

If you wanna be wed, make up your mind

Her or me, chum

Don't wanna be some

Girl in a threesome

Are you blind?’ -|

Tiffany is of course Catherine, and the fandom (The people of Britain for the sake of this AU) loves her (As we all know), so when you come along and insult her because Chucky is now your man (Supposedly.) and of course you two aren’t getting along with each other in the first place because of him … you get a bad name.

|- ‘Ooh, why hasn't it hit her?

He doesn't want to bang you

Somebody hang you

(Wow Anne, way to make the country hate you)

Mate, what was I meant to do?’ -|

When eventually Chucky is able to grow the balls to boot Tiffany out (My heart hurts writing this, trust me), he pulls a ‘Once a cheater, always a cheater’ kind of shit and has no loyalty to you or respect for the sanctity of your relationship, and starts having one night stands here, there and everywhere. He tries vaguely to tell you you’re being silly and that’s not true- but he has lipstick on his shirt collars and perfume smell all over him.

Its not a nice living condition.

So you, still very much being the vivacious bitch that he ‘fell in love with’, go and flirt with some other guys. Just to make him a teensy bit jealous! I mean, its not like he’ll really care, right? You just wanna spark the fire again!

|- ‘Henry's out every night on the town

Just sleeping around, like what the hell?

If that's how it's gonna be

Maybe I'll flirt with a guy or three

Just to make him jell’ -|

But he finds out as planned… and is p i s s e d. He threatens that if you do that again, he’ll fucking kill you.

You, not going to let him talk to you like that, flirt with one more man. Just to be disobedient.

|- ‘Henry finds out and he goes mental

He screams and shouts

Like so judgemental

You damn that witch

Mate, just shut up

I wouldn't be such a b-

If you could get it up’ -|

And you find out that he very much meant it when he said he would kill you.

|- ‘And now he's going 'round like off with her head (No)

(No)

Yeah, I'm pretty sure he means it’ -|

‘Heart of Stone’ (Reader as Jane Seymour): Bubba Sawyer as Henry

Jane Seymour the only one he truly loved (Rude) When my son was newly born, I died But I'm not what I seem or am I? Stick around and you'll suddenly see more

You were an intended victim of the Sawyers, but like with Stretch, Bubba crushes on you instead. The difference here, is that you see the gentleness to him compared to his brothers, and how scared he is when one of them yells at him, and all the other little signs that he’s not as vicious or evil as his first impressions might convey. You have a big, brave heart, and you realise right there that its death and cannibalisation or understanding and caring for this man and you choose to love.

|- ‘You came my way, and I knew a storm could come too.’-|

|- ‘You've got a good heart

But I know it changes

A restless tide, untameable’ -|

So you take his hands in yours, all shaky and meaty as they are, and promise him that you will never leave him. You’ll protect him. You’ll take any mess he and his family can throw at you- you’ll always be with him. Your promise.

|- ‘But I took your hand, promised I'd withstand

Any blaze you blew my way

'Cause something inside, it solidified

And I knew I'd always stay’ -|

And he believes you, of course. Its so nice to be looked at so softly, especially by someone as pretty as you.

I- ‘You can build me up, you can tear me down

You can try but I'm unbreakable

You can do your best, but I'll stand the test

You'll find that I'm unshakeable

When the fire's burnt

When the wind has blown

When the water's dried, you'll still find stone

My heart of stone’ -|

And you prove yourself. You prove over and over again that no matter what he, or the twins, or Drayton, or even Grandpa throws at you- you’ll survive and you’ll stay, and you’ll never stop looking at him in that lovely soft way.

|- ‘You say we're perfect

A perfect family’ -|

You get pregnant of course because everyone in the Sawyers / Hewitts family has a breeding kink and you can’t tell me otherwise, and the birth is of course very difficult because Drayton isn’t about to pay for hospital bills. So you’re in their home, in all the mess and the dirt and with no sort of aesthetic, and…

|- ‘Soon I'll have to go

I'll never see him grow’ -|

You don’t make it. Your babies born fine and healthy, and you bring another strong Sawyer boy to the family, but you’re gone.

‘Get Down’ (Reader as Anne of Cleves): Norman Bates as Henry

Ich bin Anne of Cleves Ja! When he saw my portrait, he was like Ja! But I didn't look as good as good as I did in my pic Funny how we all discuss that but never Henry's little-

So, one day, Norman decides its time to properly settle down (Long after his mother… ah… ‘dies’) and get a partner, and because there isn’t really anyone around where he lives to date or, even, who wouldn’t get creeped out by him and his taxidermy, he turns to online dating.

He meets you there. You own and run your own hotel in the next state over, you don’t mind his taxidermy at all, and your profile picture looks… hauntingly familiar (If you look nothing like Vera Farmiga go by the original movie- she was but a skeleton there so she really could be anyone).

|- ‘Sittin' here all alone

On a throne

In a palace that I happen to own

I'm not fake 'cause I've got acres and acres

Paid for with my own riches’ -|

And you two get along great over messages! You online date for a good year before Norman proposes you elope and come to live with him! You think you’ve known him long enough, and you trust him!

So you fly right over, and he meets you at the airport, and…

He’s disappointed.

Like, ‘sorry, nah, you don’t look enough like mama so this isn’t gonna work’. In a more fidgety, quiet, subdued kind of way though. He’s so awkward with communication that he even suggests that you doctored your profile picture.

I- ‘You, you said that I tricked ya

'Cause I, I didn't look like my profile picture’ -|

And, understandably, you’re p i s s e d, and disgusted! But ya’ll already got married over the internet, so theirs no stopping that! This is your husband. You realise you’ve made a huge mistake and go right back to your home and your hotel to get divorce papers drawn up.

You’re the queen of your own fucking castle, who needs him?

|- ‘I'm the queen of the castle

Get down, you dirty rascal

'Cause I'm the queen of the castle’ -|

You are understandably, very very mad. And you say some things to Norman about he and his mother, that… may be true… but that he certainly doesn’t appreciate.

When you finally get the papers, and you’ve been separated long enough for it to be legal, you go back to the Bates Motel to get Norman to sign them and stay over a night. You’ve calmed down enough that you’re able to have a pleasant conversation with him, and you decide that you’re too tired to take the plane back home right away so you take up Normans offer to stay in one of vacant rooms (*Cough* So you basically have the run of the place. Or they do. *Cough).

Norman is also pretty calm about the whole thing as well, like you! But… Norma, is still seething.

You don’t wake up the next morning.

‘All You Wanna Do’ (Reader as Kathrine Howard): Mayor Buckman as Henry (And Harper as Thomas)

Prick up your ears, I'm the Catherine who lost her head (Beheaded) For my promiscuity outside of wed Lock up your husbands Lock up your sons K. Howard is here and the fun's begun

Right, so, you haven’t had good luck in love throughout your life, so you decide to give up on boys entirely.

|- ‘So I decided to have a break from boys

And you'll never guess who I met’ -|

… And meet a man, not much later. A man in power; A mayor. A man who’s been married before and has a beard (So you know; He’s a man. XD No little boy.). This is of course Buckman. He calls you love, and you get a job in Pleasant Valley that keeps you comfortably busy. You feel like, finally, you’re where you belong. You feel fulfilled- no committed relationships are necessary.

|- ‘Globally revered

Although you wouldn't know it from the look of that beard

Made me a lady in waiting

Hurled me and my family up in the world

Gave me duties in court and he swears it's true

That without me, he doesn't know what he'd do

He cares so much, he calls me love’ -|

But then Buckman tells you that he cares about you. You have a connection. He doesn’t feel just ‘friendly’ feelings towards you- he wants more. And, though you are a little disappointed that your solitude didn’t last, you decide that he’s decent enough (’He is rather kind to me, and he does makes me smile a fair bit’, you try to reason with yourself that this is a good idea) and so you start to go out. Its not long before you’re married.

|- ‘So we got married Woo…’

Woo…’ -|

But being married to him isn’t easy. Not at all. You’re not use to politics; There are so many rules now, and he’s always too busy to help. And the rest for Pleasant Valley are a bit… odd. And you just don’t fit in. And this is wear Harper (Thomas) comes in.

|- ‘With Henry, it isn't easy

His temper's short, and his mates are sleazy

Except for this one courtier

He's a really nice guy, just so sincere

The royal life isn't what I planned

But Thomas is there to lend a helping hand

So sweet, makes sure that I'm okay

And we hang out loads when the King's away’ -|

And he’s so lovely and caring towards you (Never more then when Buckman leaves for business in other towns), helping you through the transition from your old life to this one. He’s a good friend, to you. And that is most definitely all he is, on your side of it. A friend. You don’t feel attractions towards him at all apart from that, and he doesn’t try to make any moves. Its wonderful!

|- ‘This guy, finally

Is what I want, the friend I need

Just mates, no chemistry

I get him and he gets me’ -|

… Until one day when Buckman has been away for a month, he tells you he cares about you. You have a connection. He doesn’t feel just ‘friendly’ feelings towards you- he wants more.

|- ‘He says we have a connection

I thought this time was different

Why did I think he'd be different?

But it's never, ever different’ -|

Lets just say one things leads to another, despite you at first turning him away and saying no. He’s so insistent, and a little scary, and you’re lonely because your husbands’ has been away so long, and… something happens that you regret and feel gross about.

|- ‘Squeeze me, don't care if you don't please me

Bite my lip and pull my hair

As you tell me, I'm the fairest of the fair

Playtime's over.’ -|

You tell Buckman when he gets home, and you watch as every bit of warmth and love in his eye disappears, just like that.

Its not long after that that his jealousy and betrayed rage takes over… and… you die with a rope around your neck and your feet swaying above the ground.

|- ‘Playtime’s over’ -|

(Alternatively, Sheriff Hoyt as Henry and Thomas as Thomas)

‘I Don’t Need Your Love’ (Reader as Catherine Parr): Jason Voorhees as Henry (Your last love was Jason when he was alive)

Five down, I'm the final wife I saw him to the end of his life I'm the survivor Catherine Parr I bet you wanna know how I got this far I said I bet you wanna know how we got this far Do you wanna know how we got this far then?

So, you’re like the leader of the ‘Slashers Ex Squad’ because you, unlike the others, survived your time with Jason. This is because Jason did, truly, love you (To an extent- not enough to let you go and live your life without him or be free). None of the others really did. Not like he did.

|- ‘Became the one who survived’ -|

Your story:

You and Jason had an adorable little 11-year-old puppy love relationship when he was alive. You were his only friend, and he had it bad for you because of it. Pamela loved you, too.

When he died you were of course devastated, and years later when you were 30 (Making him also thirty- not that you know that. You still think he’s dead at this point) you’re taken by the need to go back to Camp Crystal Lake and pay your respects to your childhood love / friend. Its just one of those nostalgic days.

When you go, and you set flowers down by the lake, Jason catches sight of you. He thinks about killing you… but then your features start to make sense to him. He recognises you, and for the first time since his mother was killed, he feels his heartbeat speed up and swell with hope.

Jason of course kidnaps you then, and keeps you hostage for himself. He missed you. He doesn’t want to survive anymore time without you. You’re all he has left!

… After you realise that this is Jason Voorhees, you quickly learn that this Jason is, of course, not the boy that you cared, and care, so deeply about. He’s done horrible things, and he is never going to stop; And frankly, deep inside… he scares you.

But its not like you can leave him! He would never let you, he’s made that clear. You are all he has, and now, he is all that you have.

|- ‘I don't have a choice

If Henry says "it's you", then it's you

No matter how I feel

It's what I have to do’ -|

So you write a letter to the old Jason (And your old life), saying goodbye, in admittance to the fact that you’ll never be able to get away from this new Jason. This is you letting go of your freedom and any preconceptions that anything will every be the same- with Jason, or otherwise.

|- ‘It's true I'll never be over you 'Cause I have built a future in my mind with you And now the hope is gone There's nothing left for me to do’

'Cause I have built a future in my mind with you

And now the hope is gone

There's nothing left for me to do’ -|

You never stop hating him for how he’s changed (How he’s taken your Jason away, and wont even attempt to go back) and how he’s stolen away your freedom.

|- ‘I'd say "Henry, yeah it's true

I'll never belong to you

'Cause I am not your toy, to enjoy till there's something new

As if I'm gonna give up my boy, my work, my dreams

To care for you"

"Ha, darling, get a clue”

But I can't say that

Not to the king’ -|

You eventually die of natural causes at, like, 60.

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jeannereames · 3 years

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Hi, Dr. Reames. This is probably a dumb question to ask, but I know you´ve been wrting your whole life, I think, so I thought I might ask you anyway, as I admire your work a lot. How do I overcome my fear of writing? It's kinda hard to explain, It's not about what other people will think about my work, It's what I will think of it. I never think it's good enough, in my eyes it's always bad written, unoriginal, boring. Even when I have an idea I love I struggle to get myself because of these thoughts. Any time I write something, when I think about posting it somewhere I´m like “I will cringe so bad for this in a few hours/days/months/years”. Every time I find something I wrote a while ago I think “how could I even think about writing this?” and I know I should take it as part of the progress, failing to win y'know, but instead I find it keeps me from writing and sharing my work, even when I think it is good. I want to write and post my work, I have too many ideas but I don't know how to overcome these fears to actually do it.

Right now I'm struggling with writing a story I have to do for college and give in a few days, but I'm completely blocked. I think it's a ridiculous idea, although I like it a lot, It is making me feel anxious and embarrassed beforehand.

First, I’m answering a little out of order for what’s in my inbox, as the asker mentioned she had a story due in a few days, so it seemed time-specific.

So, let me just open by saying I don’t know any professional author who doesn’t hit that “I hate my story” point somewhere in the midst of writing it. “This is terrible! What was I thinking? Who would be interested in this? Who do I think I am to believe I could write about that/that character?”

Seriously, this is a normal litany, particularly for women authors. (I do not know if the asker is female gendered, gender fluid, or male gendered, but it seems that a lot of folks on Tumblr belong to the first two categories.) After all, we’re taught to sit back, look pretty, keep our legs crossed, our hands neatly folded, and let the boys talk. Let the boys win. Nobody wants to hear from us. Our job is to showcase the men in our lives.

Even if you never heard those words said to your face, you’ve “heard” them in everything from the advertising industry to TV shows and movies to political dialogue and Twitter. It hurts EVERYbody. Men are not expected to question themselves, so if they (naturally) do, they assume they’re secretly a failure. And women are expected to question themselves, apologize for having an opinion/original thought, so they learn to do so from preschool on.

Writing a story that one intends to share with the universe is sort of arrogant, when you think about it. To assume that anybody besides me gives three shits about the stories I tell myself in my head is an act of either great self-confidence or great self-delusion. And if one wants to go pro, we add another layer of expecting other people to pay for my “little whimsies”? Who do I think I am? (Echoes one of the questions above, no…?)

That’s the negative way of thinking about it. Let me turn that around…

Writing a story that one intends to share with the universe is an amazingly generous action.

That’s right. Generous.

I will never recoup in royalties the blood, sweat, tears, (and cost) that it took me to write Dancing with the Lion. I can’t even begin to add up the hours devoted to writing, revising, rewriting, revising again, that story. And you get to read it for $6.99 each, or, if you go for the Riptide special, $8.99 for both! (Pricier if you want a paper copy.)

Some authors don’t go quite as overboard as I did in perfectionism (it’s kinda part and parcel of the phud). Yet even established professional authors with 5-figure advances do not make anywhere close to minimum wage, sometimes not even 6-figure advances (depending on what those 6 figures are). And the bulk of us will never see either of those.

Writers write because they have a story to tell. That’s an act of generosity. You don’t have to like that story. You don’t have to read that story. You may, in fact, think that story is utter crap and should be consigned to the dungheap. (There are some even professionally published novels, never mind self-published, I feel that way about.)

Yet it’s still an act of generosity. And even if I don’t like __ story, probably somebody out there will. More to the point, nobody gets better unless they, you know, actually work at it by writing (and getting useful constructive criticism because virtually nobody is Carson McCullers, to pen a classic at the tender age of 21). So yes, some writers may not be up to publishable quality fiction yet…although what IS publishable quality lies somewhat in the eye of the acquiring editor. But keep going.

The biggest and most munificent leap any author makes is to finish a story, hand it to someone else and say, “Would you like to read this?”

Writers are all but driven to write. I can’t NOT write. I’ve been writing since 6th grade when my English teacher gave us one of those “Use this word in a sentence” assignments and my sentences turned into paragraphs, then into little stories. And she let me get away with it. Lord above, she even encouraged me!

Write. Trust yourself. Share it.

Yes, take constructive criticism if somebody offers it. Ignore unconstructive criticism. The former pinpoints weaknesses with concrete suggestions for how to fix/improve them. The latter is just soul-sucking drivel.

Long, long ago when I was an ambitious but uncertain 18-year-old, I got to hear Lawrence Dorr give a talk on writing. After, I introduced myself and said, “I’m a writer. Well, I want to be. I’m not published yet.”

He stopped me and replied, “Do you write?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re a writer.”

That has stuck we me, coming from an award-winning published author.

So I will pass that on to every other aspiring author out there.

Do you write? If so, you’re a writer.

#asks #the writing life #writing fiction #encouragement to write #fiction writing #historical fiction

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

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What are two things that you have no problem paying full price for? Food, apparently.

You have 5 minutes - grab 3 snacks from the grocery store. What are they? Chips and dip (that counts as one snack, shh), soda, and muffins.

Dancing, acting, and singing - which two are you best at? I have no dancing, acting, or singing abilities.

Deep fried Oreos & deep fried pickles - would you try either? I’ve had both and both are delicious.

Do you remember how old you were when you found out where babies come from? I feel like I was young... like maybe 9?

Funny, charming, cute, romantic, smart - choose only 2 for the opposite sex Funny, smart.

Snow or sand? Soda or juice? Cake or cookies? Royalty or immortality? Snow, soda, cake, immortality.

What seasoning do you use the most on your food? Depends what I’m eating, really.

Which is more important to you: make-up or hair? I feel better when my hair has been freshly dyed and styled. Not how it currently is that’s for sure...

For an entire month would you rather have a unibrow or no eyebrows at all? A unibrow, I guess. You didn’t say it had to be a thick one.

What is one tradition that you and your family have? Do you enjoy it? We have our holiday traditions.

Have you ever let somebody use you? Why did you do it? Yes. :/ I didn’t want things to end.

You can go back in time & change something in your Mom's past-what is it? She’d be able to pursue her dreams.

Do you know anybody who is around the exact same size as you? Who? *shrug* I might.

Ever been to a haunted house? How scared were you? Yes. Nothing had even happened yet but the anticipation of it had me freaking out lol. I’m such a scardy cat.

Money doesn't matter - choose a vacation destination and pick your party: A nice beach with my mom and brother.

Who is the last person you talked badly about behind their back? I usually don’t speak badly about someone behind their back, usually it’s something good, like “did you hear _____ had a baby?” <<<

Been on any websites today you wouldn't want your parents to see? No. Flip your arm over - can you see your veins? Yes.

Pick a movie at least 5 years old that you absolutely love: Bridesmaids.

Apparently, you can't tickle yourself. Do you think that's true? It’s true for me.

Do you ever buy snacks at the movie theater? What do you get? I always have to get popcorn.

When was the last time you had to jump? Never.

At what time does it start getting dark where you live? Depends on the time of year. During the summer it’s light out until like 830ish.

Which is worse: dusting or mopping? Dusting.

Peanut butter VS. Caramel - which side are you on? Peanut butter. I like caramel flavored drinks and syrup, but not caramel or caramel filled candy.

Have you ever complained to a manager about anything? What was it? No.

[created by: mickey-mouse]

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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introvertguide · 4 years

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Gone with the Wind; AFI #6

Our next film for review is the classic epic drama, Gone with the Wind (1939). This movie was the big award winner from a year that is often considered the best year for movies in American cinema history. The film won 8 Oscars including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Screenplay, and Best Actress. Notably, the film also had the first win for a black actor with Best Supporting Actress going to Hattie McDaniel (although she had to get special permission to sit in the back of the room since the awards took place at a segregated hotel). All these wins came against competition like The Wizard of Oz, Wuthering Heights, Stagecoach and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Although this film is considered to be one of the best American films of all time, there has been a lot of complaints about the depiction of house slaves and slavery in general in this film. I want to discuss why it is still great and the takeaway from the film, but first a quick synopsis of the plot will help. This movie is almost 4 hours long, so it will be much more condensed then usual, and I relied heavily on Wikipedia and IMDB entries to summarize this particular film. I do want to do the standard...

SPOILER ALERT!!!! IF YOU ARE AMERICAN, THEN YOU SHOULD PROBABLY WATCH THIS FILM AS ALMOST A CIVIC DUTY!!! IT IS A MAJOR PART OF AMERICAN CINEMA HISTORY AND SOMETHING THAT SHOULD BE EXPERIENCED!!! IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN IT, I IMPLORE YOU TO GO AND WATCH IT BEFORE READING ANY FURTHER!!!

In 1861, on the eve of the American Civil War, Scarlett O'Hara (Vivien Leigh) lives at Tara, her family's cotton plantation in Georgia, with her parents and two sisters and their many slaves. Scarlett learns that Ashley Wilkes (Leslie Howard), whom she secretly loves, is to be married to his cousin, Melanie Hamilton (Olivia de Havilland), and the engagement is to be announced the next day at a barbecue at Ashley's home, the nearby plantation Twelve Oaks. At the Twelve Oaks party, Scarlett makes an advance on Ashley, but instead catches the attention of another guest, Rhett Butler (Clark Gable). The barbecue is disrupted by news of the declaration of war, and the men rush to enlist. In a bid to arouse jealousy in Ashley, Scarlett marries Melanie's younger brother Charles before he leaves to fight. Following Charles's death while serving in the Confederate States Army, Scarlett's mother sends her to the Hamilton home in Atlanta, where she creates a scene by attending a charity bazaar in her mourning attire and waltzing with Rhett, now a blockade runner for the Confederacy.

The tide of war turns against the Confederacy after the Battle of Gettysburg, in which many of the men of Scarlett's town are killed. Eight months later, as the city is besieged by the Union Army in the Atlanta Campaign, Melanie gives birth with Scarlett's aid, and Rhett helps them flee the city. Once out of the city, Rhett chooses to go off to fight, leaving Scarlett to make her own way back to Tara. Upon her return home, Scarlett finds Tara deserted, except for her father, her sisters, and two former slaves: Mammy (Hattie McDaniel) and Pork (Oscar Polk). Scarlett learns that her mother has just died of typhoid fever and her father has become senile. With Tara pillaged by Union troops and the fields untended, Scarlett vows she will do anything for the survival of her family and herself.

(Little bit of a side note, this seems to be where several of the commenters on IMDB thought the movie ended as the phrase “ends with Scarlett vowing never to go hungry again” showed up more than once. This is the point of the intermission and the two halves are very different from each other, but this is by no means the end of the film. It is a very good time to take a break if you are watching it so I suggest taking more than the intermission time to stretch your legs. This is a really long movie.)

As the O'Haras work in the cotton fields, Scarlett's father attempts to chase away a scalawag from his land, but is thrown from his horse and killed. With the defeat of the Confederacy, Ashley also returns, but finds he is of little help at Tara. When Scarlett begs him to run away with her, he confesses his desire for her and kisses her passionately, but says he cannot leave Melanie. Unable to pay the Reconstructionist taxes imposed on Tara, Scarlett dupes her younger sister Suellen's fiancé, the middle-aged and wealthy general store owner Frank Kennedy, into marrying her, by saying Suellen got tired of waiting and married another suitor. Frank, Ashley, Rhett and several other accomplices make a night raid on a shanty town after Scarlett is attacked while driving through it alone, resulting in Frank's death. With Frank's funeral barely over, Rhett proposes to Scarlett and she accepts.

Rhett and Scarlett have a daughter whom Rhett names Bonnie Blue, but Scarlett, still pining for Ashley and chagrined at the perceived ruin of her figure, lets Rhett know that she wants no more children and that they will no longer share a bed. One day at Frank's mill, Scarlett and Ashley are seen embracing by Ashley's sister, India, and harboring an intense dislike of Scarlett she eagerly spreads rumors. Later that evening, Rhett, having heard the rumors, forces Scarlett to attend a birthday party for Ashley. Incapable of believing anything bad of her, Melanie stands by Scarlett's side so that all know that she believes the gossip to be false. After returning home from the party, Scarlett finds Rhett downstairs drunk, and they argue about Ashley. Rhett kisses Scarlett against her will, stating his intent to have sex with her that night, and carries the struggling Scarlett to the bedroom.

The next day, Rhett apologizes for his behavior and offers Scarlett a divorce, which she rejects, saying that it would be a disgrace. When Rhett returns from an extended trip to London, Scarlett informs him that she is pregnant, but an argument ensues which results in her falling down a flight of stairs and suffering a miscarriage. As she is recovering, tragedy strikes when Bonnie dies while attempting to jump a fence with her pony. Scarlett and Rhett visit Melanie, who has suffered complications arising from a new pregnancy, on her deathbed. As Scarlett consoles Ashley, Rhett prepares to leave Atlanta. Having realized that it was him she truly loved all along, and not Ashley, Scarlett pleads with Rhett to stay, but Rhett rebuffs her and walks away into the morning fog, leaving her in tears on the staircase. A distraught Scarlett resolves to return home to Tara, believing that one day she will get Rhett back.

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While discussing this film with my mom, she mentioned that the film has had a different effect on her each time and she felt like it was because she was a different person each time she saw it. I have had the same experience and I find that rewatching the film is a good way to see how your own perspective has changed over time. I first saw this as a teen and thought Rhett Butler was a cold man who could could not forgive a suffering Scarlett who was trying to figure out her priorities during a trying time. In my twenties, I could only focus on the depiction of slavery and thought that people should not watch the film at all. In my thirties, I hated Scarlett and wished that she had died instead of her friend or the daughter because she was dramatic and made bad situations worse. I recently turned forty and watched it again...

I still find Scarlett to be dramatic and the cause of many of her own problems, but at the same time I would expect this from somebody her age (I think I finally separated the age of the actress from the age of the character) with her “Princess of the South” upbringing. I can’t really empathize since her life was much easier than mine, but I can sympathize after working with many rich teens who are spoiled and don’t know how to act in an emergency. I think I understand better about how the author of the book was trying to portray this plantation lifestyle as almost royalty and the slaves were like the 1850s Southern United States version of royal attendants. I find the language very cringy, but all of the house slaves at the O’Hara plantation have their place in the story. This is probably an accurate depiction of what somebody from the old South would want to glamorize plantation life as being to people living in the 1940s, and thus historically valuable. I find Rhett Butler to be somewhat similar to Han Solo: somebody who looks out for his own best interest but softens for good people and good causes. He seems to do good things except when he gets drunk and forces himself on Scarlett (marriage and sexual assault are not mutually exclusive). He is otherwise pretty faultless, but that scene drops him quite a few pegs in my eyes.

One thing that sticks with me each and every time is when Scarlett is working at the army hospital and the doctor wants her to help with an amputation. They have nothing to numb the pain and there is a young man screaming not to cut into his leg...I can’t even imagine yet I know that this was not even uncommon during the height of the war. I remember watching a documentary on the Civil War and a real photo showing a pile of amputated limbs at a makeshift tent hospital. The pile looked to have more than 100 limbs and I am sure they did not have enough morphine for all of these men. The best field doctors were said to be more strong and stoic than accurate since being able to saw through a man’s leg quickly was a major commodity. This horrifically honest portrayal of war in the midst of the Nazi threat and a couple of years before the entry of the U.S. into WW2 took courage. I was able to sublimate a little more during this viewing since there was no on-screen cutting. I also tried to imagine the man doing the voice over and screaming “Don't cut my leg!” in a sound studio. It helped. Another thing that I didn’t know during previous viewings was that when she exits the building and sees the hundreds of soldiers in the streets, half of the bodies on the ground are manikins. Look very closely at the middle picture above...half over those bodies are fakes.

I learned a lot from the extras that were with this movie since I borrowed my friend’s DVD box set. It was unexpected to me that the three slaves were my friend’s favorite characters (Pork, Mammy, and Prissy), since my friend is a black woman in her 70s and grew up during the Civil Rights movement when films that depicted slavery in this way were generally looked down upon. My friend said she was glad to see black actors at all from the era and the movement had to start somewhere. The actors seemed to be of the same opinion with Hattie McDaniel saying she would rather portray a maid and get paid like an actor than have to actually be a maid. Speaking roles for black actors were very few, especially in big budget movies, so there was not a lot of concern about the character being portrayed. This makes since, especially after the Great Depression. Having a role playing a stereotyped house slave still meant a great paycheck at the end of the week. I also liked that one of the things that Rhett Butler wanted and had difficulty getting was approval from Mammy concerning the courtship of Scarlett. Mammy was a slave, but she knew a lot of secrets and was not powerless.

My favorite character this time around was Melanie Hamilton because she is just a good person. She is not helpless and she doesn’t complain about her problems, she just handles her business and keeps supporting her family with a strength that I am not likely to truly know. I was saddened to hear that the actress recently passed away as, similar to her character, she seemed like a real survivor that would live forever. Apparently the actress, Olivia de Havilland, was not nearly as demure and liked to play jokes on her fellow actors. She also made a lot of fun about the age gap between Vivien Leigh and the actress playing Scarlett’s mother (there was a real life age difference of 4 years). Havilland also had the crew tie her to a chair that Clark Gable was supposed to lift her from and he nearly threw out his back.

It is a little surprising how much adversity occurred on set since there were a lot of injuries, actors who didn’t really like their character (Vivien Leigh described her character as a “raging bitch”), giant sets that were lit on fire so only one take was possible, and the portrayal of the South and slavery in a favorable light. However, like so many other films on the AFI list, it seems like the difficulties are what bonded the groups together to make classic cinema. It seems like a little adversity and strife can bring out the best in film makers.

So does this movie belong on the AFI list? Maybe more than any other movie ever made. It is the top film from the pinnacle year of the Golden Age of Hollywood. It is a historical drama about a singularly American topic based on an American best seller. I think a list about great American movies should probably start with films like this and go from there. Absolute classic. Would I recommend it? Yes, and I would actually recommend multiple viewings because your interpretation will change throughout your life. This is a superiorly good movie that should be viewed, no matter how it is interpreted. Just make sure to plan a break because this movie is epic in scale and in run time. Still totally worth it.

#gone with the wind #vivien leigh #olivia de havilland #clark gable #golden age of hollywood #classic film #american film institute #depictions of slavery #academy award winner #best picture #introvert #introverts

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owlsbride · 4 years

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This Too Shall Pass

Chapter III: The Reaper.

London was no longer London. At least not the London he had come to love. Now it was a mix of modern buildings as tall as the sky itself. The old carriages over the years had been replaced by modern cars much faster and more compact at the same time. Now there were buses and even high-speed subway trains. Modernity was a new world and infinite possibilities. There was no misinterpretation, he had adapted well throughout all these years. He had learned to use every technological advance that came his way: cell phones, computers, the glorious internet, television. He even enjoyed from time to time going to the movies. He had learned that the latter was not significantly different from how people's cinematics records worked and that in a way filled him with pride. Even if he was a deserter, he had to accept that his people were far more intelligent and advanced than humans. He was used to modern life; it could be said that he even enjoyed it. He had come to learn some of the little pleasures that this era could bring him. He could sit for hours in some trendy little cafe, (where in order to pay a cup of tea, a regular person would have to consider selling a kidney on the black market) just to watch humans live their lives as fast as possible, coming and going without even pausing for a second to look to the side or behind, without even having the slightest consideration for what they did to the other or to the world in which they lived. These people lived oblivious of the finiteness and fragility of their bodies. They walked around proud of their cars, their clothes, their lovers and their promising careers, never stopping to look at or ask the needs of the others, never acknowledging that in the end death was inevitable and that at the last breath she equalled them all. Royalty, politicians, businessmen or beggars, they would all follow the same path and some of his former colleagues would be willing and able to judge them and take them without the possibility of the slightest protest. Oh these humans, they would never know what they got till is lost forever. He had lost everything once, even his sanity, and he was sure he would not do it again. Not now that he saw things as they were. His obsession with death had long been replaced by his obsession with life. That was what had driven him away from what had made him a legend so long ago, and what drives him crazy every time a little more. It was the burning desire to know what life was afterlife itself. How to prolong it, recover lost moments, and why not, create new ones. How to find once again what was lost and how to restore it as an exquisite work of art. Ironically, to reach his goal, he needed death: he was tied to it, and just today, in these times, the business of death was dying. Hilarious. Something as simple as passing, now it was complicated. In the good old days, when he had decided to turn his back on everything he knew, he had become London's best-known mortician. With his small business in Camden Town, he had had access to the most extraordinary elites of English society, and yet also made important contacts with simple commoners. As an undertaker, he had connections, the most varied and they all turned to him. Of course, he was not moved by money, he had never cared, he simply demanded in return a good joke that would make him laugh. After all, even death was not to be taken too seriously. He ran his business diligently getting to know more people than he ever imagined, one more curious and entertaining than the other. As an informant for the queen's watchdogs, he had managed to get into the elite, and thus each subject of study reached him without significant problems. He was happy, Oh what wouldn't he give for listening to the Earl's little voice once more asking for information? That butler was an incredible specimen, and he would have loved to dissect him. Oh lord, if only the little boy wouldn't be so stubborn about his stupid vengeance. Today the Parlour was not enough. Undertaker knew that if he wanted to continue his investigations even nearly 200 years later and with many incredible technological improvements, he had to be able to access another source of income. Modern times meant diversifying. Today, everyone's favourite mortician was no longer called to make arrangements for the afterlife. No. Now there were hundreds of other undertakers who did the same as him. Therefore, a place in the hospital morgue had been secured for some time. Who better than him, after years and years of seeing corpses to perform an autopsy and making himself time to take a look at his hidden agenda secretly? So yes, Undertaker was happy. Even if he missed the old times sometimes, he still ran his Parlour in the afternoons and was a forensic doc in the mornings. Just like a superhero with a secret identity, thinking about it, too many identities. Undertaker was sitting on the counter at his place, his long booted legs swinging lazily. The newspaper rested next to him, he had just finished reading the news, and they were hopeless, people in London were dying in droves, more like hundreds a day and that sort of hurt. Of course, he had witnessed other pandemics and knew very well what the consequences were. Not only did people die from the disease itself, but the devastation left, and the collateral damages were incalculable. It was as if the Horseman of the Apocalypse from the bible really put his feet on the slaughtered Earth. Undertaker knew that by now his fellow shinigamis would be desperate from overwork and felt sorry for them. How much would the lists of people to die have increased in recent months? He also felt sorry for the doctors who work non-stop to save lives. Two sides of the same coin: medical services and shinigamis, both barely surpassed by an infamous virus invisible to everyone's eyes, even his own. He regretted his work in the hospital too, it had been interrupted in these months, and he no longer had access to people's bodies for security measures. Obviously, the virus did not affect him in the least, but he had to keep up appearances. He sighed bored as his black nails drummed on the surface of the counter, he had no pending work, and he only had to wait. Sighed and wait. No more laugh, no more research, no more hilarious strange glances from his fellow doctors, nothing. Just desolation in every corner. His day couldn't get any worse, he burnt his bone-shaped cookies and was running out of tea. He would have to go to the store soon. He hated the store, he much preferred Lau's herbs, even the funny ones, those who made people laugh and relax when used in the right amount, and if not, still, he was not one to judge. So picking up the keys, he was ready to go out when something or somebody took him by surprise. "Heh heh, but if it's none other than the red shinigami ~ Tell me, sweety, Dear William gave you some free time?" "Undertaker, always a pleasure ..." Grell began nervously. Being in front of the legend of the shinigamis made him nervous "I have a favour to ask you." "A favour? Hmm ... How long has it been since the last one?" The silver-haired man chuckled, removing his bangs from his eyes. "You know what to do ~ give it to me first. Come on, you know what I want." "Undertaker ..." Grell pleaded "Now is not the time, besides you know I don't know how to do it." "My my, your face is priceless; you are still a nervous wreck." The Undertaker smiled almost fondly at the younger reaper. "What do you want?" "I need you ..." Undertaker raised an interested eyebrow, putting the keys back where he had found them, the tea could wait. Not every day a Shinigami would show up at the doors of a deserter asking for help. "I mean... WE need you." "You mean the London Despatch?..." Disbelief in his words, Grell nodded "Now, that's the joke of the century Grell, come on, I don't have time, I'm running out of tea". Grell Sutcliff rolled his eyes. He hadn't changed in years, Undertaker was just the same and he kind of like it. If it weren't for his relationship with William, Oh, the things he could do to the revel grim reaper in front of him. "Really, Undertaker? Is that what you do now? Take tea like an old lady?" the red-head spoke loudly, pointing at Undertaker's hidden scythe. "Well ... I'm quite old after all" Undertaker smiled and Grell pouted. "Ok, Ok. Why don't you take a seat on one of my special coffins and explain yourself?" Grell blew out the breath he didn't know he was holding and accepted the invitation. It was his idea after all, and he couldn't bring a no for an answer to his beloved William.

The chilly winter covered the city with a heavy mist. The sky threatened to snow at any moment. It didn't take long to convince him. Once young Grell Sutcliff had finished telling him his crazy plan and talked about how much the Despatch needed the help, he was ready to go. Plus, the red riper dared to say that the snob William T. Spears would have more than a headache knowing that he, the renegade shinigami, would accomplish the task better and faster, and nothing made him happier than bother poor Will. He was ready to wear the shinigami outfit one more time. He had to admit that he had missed it and that there was nothing like fieldwork. He was prepared to prove that no one could ever match him. Within just a few hours, he had been able to carry out the work of four shinigamis together and was just getting started. He caressed his lifelong companion with devotion, he had never gotten rid of his lover, and today they were walking together once more. His scythe was fantastic, and he loved her. Standing on the terrace of the hospital, he checked the list one more time. There were only two names left before the end of the shift when something caught his attention. She wasn't on the list moments ago. Her name had appeared suddenly, and she should not be there: Gwenhwyfar O'Doherty. He knew her, he had seen her from time to time in the corridors of the hospital. The young Irish doctor, lovely green eyes, cute freckles, she was so full of life. Working diligently every day to save others and yet here she was about to take the somersault that would make her, at best, one of his own kind. She wasn't ready to go, the world needed her. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, dear~ You are very much need it right now~." and his soft chuckle got lost in the winter night.

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kumkaniudaku · 5 years

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The Love Tonight (2)

The Love Tonight (1)

From the moment dinner ended, prepping and planning for the big night during the week continued to evolve into a beast that Chadwick could not contain. His assigned job was to "show up and look good," instructions that were relayed to him on more than one occasion. This left him in the dark about anything that did not involve his wardrobe and Noah's babysitting plans.

So, as he sat in the living room bouncing his son from knee to knee to pass the time, his mind swirled with all of the possibilities the night held. The first of his questions were answered when the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floors grabbed his attention.

Instead of dresses, Tasha decided to take her stylist's advice and indulge in the blazer trend of the summer. Naturally, Micah followed suit, making the mother-daughter moment event more adorable. Teal and bronze tones were the motif of the night with both outfits fitting the scheme in their unique ways. Micah dazzled in a kid-friendly relaxed suit that perfectly fused her parents' tastes. While the teal blue suit was one that her father was no stranger to, the bronze heels and accessories were her mother's touch.

CoCo took the cost-efficient chic route and used a very familiar piece to her advantage. After learning that the Versace blazer he husband donned at the NAACP awards earlier in the year was part of the women's line, she made sure it was available to repurpose and reuse. The beautiful animal print across the garment was perfect for the Lion King Carpet, and by choosing to forgo a shirt and show a little skin, it was also age-appropriate. The bold top paired well with a simple pair of trousers that matched the shade of blue accenting the print and bronze accessories.

It was Micah's idea that she be allowed to wear her hair free and curly while Tasha made sure to make a trip to the barbershop to sharpen her growing tapered cut.

"Well, would you look at what we have here? I feel like I need to change." Chadwick was careful to pass Noah along to Yvonne before making his way over to his favorite set of women. Stopping at his wife first, he took a moment to trace his finger down the necklace draped in her cleavage. "Who gave you permission to come out and slay like this?"

"Slay? Is that how we talkin' now," she laughed. "Thank you, baby."

"I vote thumbs down, Chad. Not a good look."

As he fixed his mouth to reply to Yvonne with a snarky remark, the small but dramatic clearing of someone's throat caught Chadwick's attention.

"Now...where did that mighty roar come from? I don't have any lions!"

"It's me, daddy! Down here!"

In true dad fashion, Chadwick kept the charade going to keep Micah laughing for as long as possible. Finally, he acknowledged her with a surprised look etched across his face.

"Wha- Mikey, is that you? I thought you were a pretty lion with all that hair!"

"Like Simba?"

"Just like Simba. You look nice, Princess."

"Pretty enough for pictures?"

"Of course, Princess."

Even on a strict schedule, time was made to capture the family as a unit for personal memories and individual social media accounts. For a child that had only been to one Hollywood event in her entire life, Micah handled the moment with the grace of someone ten times her age. She spent most of the ride alternating between taking cute filtered pictures with Tasha and singing songs from the movie's soundtrack with Chadwick. When the car for the night approached the venue, and all of Hollywood's elite came into view, both parents could sense their first born's excitement.

"We get to go in there with all those people," she asked, her hands and face pressed against the heavily tinted window. "Do they know our names?"

"Maybe. Are you scared to get out, Princess? Do you want me to carry you?"

Tearing her eyes away from the scene, Micah whipped her head around to her father and scrunched her face, "I'm in first grade. I know how to walk."

"I told him the same thing, Boop. Daddy's silly. Let's go."

Chadwick sat back against the cool leather of his seat with a hilariously incredulous look plastered on his face as Tasha helped Micah exit the vehicle. It took Micah's repeated urging for him to join her side and start on the path toward the red carpet.

The flicker of cameras around them paled in comparison to the wonder shining through Micah's eyes. Every step of the way she marveled at the gowns that glittered under the setting sun, comparing the men and women she walked past to King's and Queens.

"Mommy, she has hair like me!"

"Don't point, baby. That's rude."

"But look! Her hair is like mine! Look!"

While Chadwick answered questions from a nearby reporter, Tasha followed her daughter's finger across the way to see the object of Micah's affection.

"What's her name, Mommy?"

"That's Shahadi Wright-Joseph. She plays little Nala in the new movie." She half smiled as Micah watched Shahadi's every move, even mimicking some of her actions. Stooping down, she became eye level with the oldest Boseman child. "You wanna go say, hi?"

"Does she know my name?"

"We can go and tell her. You wanna?"

Her hair bounced rapidly with her nodding before Micah linked her hand in her mother's and tugged her along. Shahadi noticed the pair right away as they approached, paying particular attention to the little girl with a special twinkle in her eye.

"Wow, look at your pretty hair," she exclaimed. "You are so pretty. What's your name?"

"Micah Noelle Boseman. I like your dress."

Both Tasha and Shahadi laughed at her emphasis on her entire name.

"Thank you! I like your purse. What do you have in it?"

"Cheetos and popcorn for a snack!"

"I think I need to sit by you. I might get hungry."

Opening her purse, Micah pointed to its contents, "You can have some. I can share!"

"You're the cutest! Can I take a picture with you?"

Micah happily accepted the request before proudly displaying the few teeth the tooth fairy had yet to claim.

"It's like looking into the future," Chadwick commented as he approached CoCo's side. "Remember when she was a baby? Now we almost have a kid in double digits."

"We should have one more for old time's sake."

Chadwick's bewildered response became nothing more than an unintelligible whisper amid chaos. Instinct prompted Tasha to pull Micah close to her side as the people around them began a mad dash to clear the walkway for a presence that she could not see.

"If you knock her down, your ass is next," she directed toward a hasty cameraman who quickly apologized. "What the hell is going on?"

"I think somebody important is here."

All eyes were fixated on the red carpet to get a glimpse of the guests of honor. In matching blazer ensembles, Beyonce and Blue Ivy strode past the crowd like royalty. Tasha hadn't considered the possibility that her best friend in her head would be present, let alone 20 feet away from her with screaming fans shouting at her from all directions.

"Baby, do the thing," she urged her husband as she bumped her elbow into his arm.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Be famous and get her attention. Tell her to come over here!"

"T, she knows who you are. Just say, hi."

"Hi, Ms. Beyonce!"

Micah's high-pitched voice seemed to boom above the chatter around them, catching Blue's attention before Beyonce's. When she looked over to wave back, her eyes lit up at the sight of Tasha and Chadwick awkwardly standing behind their excited child.

"Hey, y' all!" A quick sidestep and shield of protection from security brought the entertainer closer to the Boseman family. "Oh my God, y' all should've told me you were coming. We could've set something up."

"We still have time," Tasha blurted, unable to keep her words tucked behind her lips. Chadwick gave her a cheeky side-eye and a half-smile. He'd never known her to be nervous when meeting new people, so the opportunity to see his wife flustered for even a moment was a sight to behold.

"You sure, baby? What about the kids? 'Vonne has-"

"She'll understand. We talked already."

"When?"

"You know, when…" Tasha's voice began to trail at the tail end of her sentence as she searched her brain for an adequate lie. "We talked. Don't worry about it."

Beyonce looked between the couple with an amused glint in her eyes and smiled, "I'll take that as a yes from the Mrs."

"And a yes from me!"

"Is that right, pretty girl? Are you, Miss Micah? You know, I've heard a lot about you!"

Micah latched on to the star's outstretched hand and smiled. "I know your songs. Me and my mommy saw you on TV really late at night. Daddy said to go to sleep, but we just got real quiet, so we could still dance."

"Is that right," she laughed. "Did you like the songs?"

Tasha and Chadwick braced themselves for Micah to blurt lyrics or begin her "special" Formation choreography but found her sporting a grin that stretched across her entire face and nodding her head.

"All of them! I listen to them in the car before school."

"What if I told you I made a song for you? Would you be happy?" Micah looked back to her parents for confirmation, finding confused looks from both of them before turning to Beyonce. "I can't wait until you hear it. It's all about your -."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Carter, but we have to keep moving. They need you all seated soon."

Acknowledging the comment, Beyonce made sure to bid the Boseman family a proper goodbye before disappearing down the remainder of the carpet. They received similar instructions soon after before being ushered into the Dolby Theatre for the main event.

Micah buzzed in her seat before the lights could go down inside the theatre, eventually settling for her father's lap for a better view. From the opening song, she was utterly mesmerized by the sights and sounds of The Lion King's newest visuals. She sang along to every song uninhibited, often charming viewers around her into joining the fun. By the end of the film, through light tears and laughter, Micah was the first to lead the room's applause. She couldn't wait to break free from the shackles of forced silence inside the theater to voice her praise for the film. With her father's shoulders acting as her preferred mode of transportation, the little ball of energy began a full breakdown of what she'd just witnessed.

"And-and the pig was so funny. He did the thing like you, Daddy. He was like 'WARTHOG'! Did you see it? Did you?"

Laughing, Chadwick reached up to playfully tickle her sides, "I saw it, baby girl."

"Mommy, you're like Nala! Except you can't sing, 'cause that's Ms. Beyonce singing. Can we be Lion King for Halloween or is Daddy still in trouble for hitting the clown?"

CoCo felt tears prick the corner of her eyes as she fought back the urge to cackle at her husband's expense. Clowngate had been a sensitive subject around the family that Chadwick had yet to escape.

"Of course we can. Daddy can be Zazu so he doesn't hurt anybody with those claws."

"I feel like we can let the past be the past now," Chadwick retorted, side-eyeing his wife and earning another stifled laugh.

Micah continued to rattle off high points of the night as they entered the car and started their journey home. Naturally, she requested the movie's soundtrack as entertainment during the ride, demanding that all of the car's occupants join in for an off-key cover of Hakuna Matata.

In the middle of the song, Micah quietly wrapped her arms around Chadwick's midsection and squeezed with all of her strength.

"Thank you, Daddy. I love you soooo much!"

Something about the way she hugged him with pure appreciation and sincerity made Chadwick tear up as he pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you, too, little one. I love you, too."

Tasha observed the moment with a smile, preferring to remain a spectator to allow time for necessary bonding. These were memories that both of them would cherish for the rest of their lives. That knowledge was enough to produce a permanent smile on her end.

When Chadwick looked up and away to stop his tears from falling, he caught a glimpse of his wife, who grabbed his hand to run her thumb across his knuckles before adding a soft kiss.

"You're the best dad ever. Don't ever forget it."

He offered quiet thanks before kissing her cheek and resting his chin on top of CoCo's head. The opening flutes and vocals gave way to melodic vocals from Donald Glover and Beyonce's cover of Can You Feel the Love Tonight, gently lulling everyone into a comfortable silence. Chadwick took a look out of the car's sunroof to get a glimpse of the stars dotting the onyx sky above them. As he stared, he tried to commit each one to memory for a day when being a dad or a partner wasn't so easy. This was a moment Chadwick knew he would cherish long after the kids were grown and out of the house.

The soft buzz of his phone drew attention to a text from the last number he ever expected to see.

You two got out of there fast. Still coming out later? Would love to have you two.

Secretly reading the message, CoCo nudged his arm and shook her head.

"Not this time. We'll have other chances, right?"

Chadwick silently agreed before quickly typing out his apology for declining the offer. After taking a final glimpse at the night sky and giving thanks to the Creator, he closed his eyes to listen to the song's final chorus.

"Can you feel the love tonight? The peace the evening brings? The world, for once, in perfect harmony…"

------

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#Chadwick Boseman #chadwick boseman fan fiction #chadwick boseman imagine #chadwick boseman x reader #chadwick boseman x you #chadwick boseman request

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itsnice2haveafriend · 4 years

Text

Cruel Summer

@taylorswift Cruel Summer is so incredibly cinematic sounding that if somebody else doesn’t put it in a movie, then I’ll finish writing my book and make it a movie JUST so that Cruel Summer can be on the soundtrack. Heck, I’d write a whole book BASED on that masterpiece and turn it into a movie so that it could be on the soundtrack. (If you’d let me of course. I’d pay ALL the royalties... I just need to save up for approximately the rest of my life.)

#taylor swift #it would be worth it though #cruel summer #swifties

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animegirl431 · 5 years

Text

Trifiesta June 14th (2019)- Home/ Family

Arms full of shopping bags, Yokozawa looked down at the still energetic fifteen years old girl. A beaming smile stretched across her face as she scanned the mall for her next target. The teens light brown hair had been carefully put in a pony tail using the worn out pink scrunchie that Yokozawa gave her shortly after they first met. When Yokozawa suggested to Hiyori that the scrunchie has fulfilled its role as a hair accessory and should be thrown out, Hiyori determinedly held the scrunchie out to him.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Yokozawa had said taking the scrunchie out of the teen’s hand.

Nodding her head in confirmation, Hiyori had turned around so Yokozawa could fix her hair. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the feel of the his gentle fingers moving with utmost care to make sure that he didn’t hurt her. While Hiyori typically said all that was on her mind, she held back from telling Yokozawa that she imagined this is what it would be like if he mother was still around.

A lot of what Yokozawa did made her feel as if she had a mother around. Yokozawa had that certain nurturing personality that she associated with mothers. He put in extra effort into helping Hiyori with everything she asked of him which reminded her of how her friends’ mothers acted. In addition, her father had continued to teasingly address the salesman as a mother never failing to elicit a blush from Yokozawa.

She found it secretly adorable how Yokozawa got all flustered. Though Hiyori made sure to defend Yokozawa when her father started going to far. This interaction brought amusement to her as it showed how close a relationship the two men had. Lately, something had changed. Hiyori didn’t know when it started, but watching this common display had left a strange ache in her heart. However, she couldn’t quite place what exactly the cause of it was.

Ignoring the mysterious ache, Hiyori focused back on listening to the multiple apologies and the repeated asking of if she was alright whenever the dark haired man assumed he had been to rough. She smiled at this cute side of the man that people missed out on due to being thrown off by his intimidating mien.

Hiyori made sure to deny being hurt each time. She could her relief in his voice each time he said to make she spoke up if he did or told her okay just making sure. It didn’t take long for him to complete the task as the salesman had plenty of experience.

“All done,” Yokozawa had announced when Hiyori had not moved for five minutes after he finished styling her hair.

“Okay,” Hiyori responded, spinning around to check how it looked in the hand mirror Yokozawa was holding.

“All good?” Yokozawa had asked, prepared to do it all over if she wasn’t satisfied with how her hair turned out.

“Yep it’s great. Thank you, Onii-chan,” Hiyori said throwing her arms around him in a hug.

To his credit, Yokozawa only slightly flinched at the action. He would never fully get used to how affectionate the Kirishimas were. Pulling away, the brown haired teen reached up the run her fingers over the pink scrunchie. This simple hair accessory had been around for a lot of events of her life. More importantly, it had been given to her by someone who irreplaceably important to her.

In someway this scrunchie became a symbol of their friendship and a connection between the two in Hiyori’s eyes. Getting rid of it almost felt like breaking an unspoken promise that they would continue to be a part of each other’s life. It is an extremely childish way to view it, she knew, but when she placed that significance to it there was no way she could toss it out.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” Yokozawa had apologized sincerely.

“No, it’s okay. You are right. This scrunchie should have been tossed in the trash a long time ago,” Hiyori said dismissing his apology. “It’s probably stupid to keep it at this point, but it’s special to me.”

Ruffling her hair gently, Yokozawa smiled softly as he was able to relate to wanting to hold on to the important things in life. “In that case, I look forward using this scrunchie in the future.”

Spacing out, Yokozawa heard his name being called. Glancing around the mall, he noticed Hiyori standing there concern shining in her brown eyes. He must have been distracted for longer than he thought. The teen stood there examining him worried that she might have missed signs that he needed a break. From previous experiences, she knew Yokozawa would follow her lead even if he got overly exhausted.

“Do you want to go rest for a little?” Hiyori asks, guilty that she had let the thrill of going to the mall with Yokozawa make her ignorant to the state of her companion.

“I’m fine,” Yokozawa responds dismissing her offer. “Where to next?”

Observing Yokozawa for a few seconds, Hiyori decides to believe him. Although she made a note in the back of her mind to pay more attention to him. She wanted to both of them to enjoy the time spent together. Even though she is sure that Yokozawa has grown to hate going to anywhere that Hiyori could buy clothes from. Hiyori liked to look cute, so she could easily spend hours finding all the items required to make coordinated outfits.

Yokozawa is too polite to actually tell her this. It’s one of the things that she both loved about him and caused her to worry. People could easily take advantage of this trait of his. Of course, Hiyori had no intention of this happening as Yokozawa didn’t deserve to have people trample over him and his nurturing personality. She took pride in her self assigned role of being his protector.

Amused at the thought of how flustered Yokozawa would be if he found out about this, Hiyori held back laughter as she replies, “You choose where we go next.”

“Me? This trip is a way to for me to spoil you. I don’t have anywhere...,” Yokozawa said, until he saw the sweet girl’s lips form a pout as her face displayed the tell tale signs of disappointment.

“At least pick one shop to go to. For me,” Hiyori pleaded, while Yokozawa instantly recognized this behavior as being similar to what he would expect from her father.

Yokozawa felt conflicted between being impressed that she had learned an efficient way to get her way and wanting to yell at Kirishima for corrupting their innocent daughter. Silently, Yokozawa prepared a lecture to give his lover for teaching Hiyori to be manipulative. Of course, this little assault tactic wasn’t any less effective when Hiyori did it than when Kirishima did.

Giving in, Yokozawa scanned the area. Also, he searched his brain for anything he might need. Nothing came to mind. There was honestly nowhere he wanted to go. It occurred to him that to do something immature like to close his eyes and randomly point to a store. If not for Hiyori watching him, Yokozawa might have actually performed that action.

Suddenly, an idea come to him. It had been inspired by looking at Hiyori and recalling his conversation while helping put Hiyori’s hair up earlier today. Going over to a map, Yokozawa searched under the section of stores relating to beauty and hair supplies. Sliding his finger down the list, he stopped as one store stood out. Walking back towards Hiyori, Yokozawa bowed respectfully as one might expect a servant of royalty to do.

Offering an arm, Yokozawa requests, “Would you do me the honor of allowing me to guide you to our next destination, princess?”

Giggling, Hiyori composed herself and did her best to imitate the princesses she has seen in movies or read about in books. Placing her hand on his arm, Hiyori replies, “I grant you permission to do so.”

Both of them laugh unable to hold a straight face. Moments like these made hanging out with Yokozawa so fun. She always looked forward to their next adventure. Hiyori wondered when it was that she had started expecting Yokozawa to be there by her side no matter what. And when it was that saying goodbye when chose to go back to his apartment for the night had become so painful.

Yokozawa had fit into their home like the missing puzzle piece required to bring the color and sound into their world they didn’t know they had lost. At this point Hiyori couldn’t imagine not having him in her life. Yet, there was always that thought that someone could catch Yokozawa’s interest. That someone would cause the salesman to fall in love. That someone would steal Yokozawa from them.

Frowning at this, Hiyori couldn’t distinguish what the different unpleasant feelings that bubbled up inside her were. What Hiyori was sure of is that she didn’t want to share Yokozawa with anyone. She rejected the idea of Yokozawa showing his special smile to anyone else, of Yokozawa cooking with anyone else, and most importantly of Yokozawa giving his attention to anyone else.

It was selfish and maybe even cruel to desire that Yokozawa only focus on her father and herself. Yet, Hiyori believed that they understood the salesman better than anyone else. That they could make him happy. That Yokozawa was the only one that would ever fill the hole that would be created

if he left them for somebody else. The three of them were a family. And she would never give that up without a fight.

Shaking her head, Hiyori tightens her grip on Yokozawa’s arm. Yokozawa who had been walking along, stopped worried at the tension in the girl’s face. It confused Yokozawa that her mood had shifted so unexpectedly. The care taker side of him brought up that she might not be feeling well. Yokozawa was well aware of how reluctant she could be to speak up when she assumed it would ruin the good time they were having.

Placing a hand on her forehead, Yokozawa found that she didn’t have the signature warmth that came with running a fever. The teen jolted at his touch and gazed at him. She forced herself to stay near him, even though she was ashamed the thoughts that had crossed her mind.

“Are you okay?” Yokozawa inquires worriedly his eyes meeting hers.

Forcing a smile, Hiyori nods. “I’m great! I have been spending the day with you. How could I not be okay?”

Yokozawa could tell that something was off, but he didn’t press her for further details. He trusted that Hiyori would confess what was bothering her when it was necessary. Returning a smile, Yokozawa continued on to the shop.

Arriving in front of the shop, Hiyori quirked an eyebrow at the beauty shop. Admittedly, this hadn’t even made the list of possible places Yokozawa would choose. At first Hiyori had thought he made a mistake, however the salesman made no move to leave or gave any indication that this shop wasn’t the right place.

“I told you to pick somewhere you wanted to go, not somewhere you think I would want to go,” Hiyori complained sounding annoyed, once again showing the familiar resemblance to her father.

“And I did. I have a special reason for picking this store. You will see,” Yokozawa vaguely explains heading inside.

Intrigued, Hiyori followed Yokozawa as he made his way over to the area that had all the hair products a person would ever need for exploring what style hair they want. Specifically, Yokozawa made his way over to the area that displayed an army of colorful hair ties, bandanas, and hair scrunchies. Her eyes were drawn to row of scrunchies in particular.

“You see something that you recognize?” Yokozawa asked, as the teen took a closer look. “This is the store I got your pink scrunchie from.”

“Really?” Hiyori chuckled, her cheerful nature coming back. “Most people aren’t able to remember where a gift comes from.”

“I probably wouldn’t have if you hadn’t taken such a liking to the scrunchie. However, when you started treating it as a precious item and using it nonstop for years, I figured that it would be important to know where the scrunchie came from, so I could get you a new one when it wore out,” Yokozawa explained, an amused smile on his face that turned a bit sheepish as he spoke further. “It’s late, but I hoped that it would be okay for me to get a new one.”

Yokozawa finished speaking relishing in the beaming, sweet smile that was turned his way. Honestly, he was a bit nervous that Hiyori might get mad at him for doing this. Her reaction said she felt the opposite which was a relief. She searched the countless scrunchies for less than a minute. Looking over her shoulder, she grinned at him.

“You have to be the one to pick one out,” Hiyori ordered, grabbing his arm to usher him forward.

“Huh? Wouldn’t it be better for you to get one that would match one of you outfits or something?” Yokozawa asks caught off guard. He was hyper aware of his lack distinction and knowledge when it came to what was fashionable or “in” trend wise when it came to clothes or accessories.

“No it has to be the one you choose,” Hiyori said, a blush on her face as she continues. “That’s what made this scrunchie so meaningful.”

Tenderly smiling at the endearing girl, Yokozawa felt loved and flattered when he heard the reasoning behind her holding onto the scrunchie. Searching thoroughly along the row of scrunchies, Yokozawa picked up a light blue one, a pink one, a red one with white polka dots, and a black one with white stripes.

“Are you planning to get all of those?” Hiyori asks looking at the small handful of scrunchies Yokozawa had.

“I am. This way you can switch them up and they will last longer,” Yokozawa reasoned and then grinned at her. “Also, I mentioned earlier didn’t I about how I planned to spoil you today.”

“Thank you,” Hiyori replies with bright eyes, enjoying the special treatment.

Yokozawa ruffles her hair. Hiyori blushes and pushes the hand away. She does her best to give him a displeased look at his action with her cheeks puffed out. Yokozawa found this to be cute as they both knew that Hiyori actually liked when he ruffles her hair. In her opinion, it seemed like something you did to show affection to a younger child, so Hiyori was embarrassed to admit that it was comforting to her.

“You two make such a charming father and daughter pair. I hope I can achieve that strong of a relationship with my daughter when she gets older,” a man comments holding a baby in his arms.

A silence ensues as Hiyori doesn’t meet Yokozawa’s eyes or release her normal giggle as is typical when they receive this type of commentary. The reason being that this time the words finally sunk into the brown haired girl’s mind. It had been a slap in the face as things finally fell into place. She finally understood why she had an ache in her heart. The fog that had prevented her from truly putting together what she desired had lifted.

It all made sense. The reason why she had felt an ache when comparing how Yokozawa acted to a mother’s, why she panicked when people mentioned how she should get a new mother, why she disliked Yokozawa leaving to go to his apartment instead of staying the night and why she couldn’t stand the thought of Yokozawa treating someone else the way her father and herself were treated. The answer was so simple, yet it took four years for her to acknowledge this.

Hiyori didn’t want a new mother, she wanted a new father. She wanted Yokozawa to fill the role of being her dad. She wanted her father and Yokozawa be in love with each other. She wanted Yokozawa to step into the spot that had been left vacant after her mother had passed away. She wanted Yokozawa to be truly accepted and acknowledged as their family, as belonging to and with her father and herself.

Now the tricky part was how did she go about telling her father and Yokozawa about this. If she wasn’t careful she could end up destroying the perfectly stable and comfortable relationship they have developed. She wasn’t sure the best way to bring up the situation, but she did know that she was going to bring it up tonight. All Hiyori could do is hope everything worked out.

Blinking, Hiyori realized that Yokozawa had been staring at her. Nervous about what she had planned, Hiyori avoided looking Yokozawa in the eyes. Yokozawa frowned, for the second time that day Hiyori had been acting strange. Wariness made Yokozawa start to question whether it was the best idea to ignore these signs of something being wrong for much longer.

“Hey, I’m feeling tired. Can we go home?” Hiyori inquires in a soft voice.

Surprise flashed in Yokozawa’s eyes as she had been bursting with energy a short bit ago. Frowning, Yokozawa felt his anxiety and worry increase. The teen continued to evade his gaze as she shifted from foot to foot. While Yokozawa was originally going to wait for Hiyori to open up to him when she was ready, this he had definitely changed his mind. Her behavior concerned him and that warranted him questioning her when they got home.

“Okay. I will pay for these and then we can head back,” Yokozawa said, heading to the register.

As soon as he paid for the scrunchies, Yokozawa handed the bag to Hiyori. The teenage girl clutched the bag to her chest before walking ahead of him.

___________________

Entering the apartment, Yokozawa slipped off his shoes as did Hiyori. The pair walked down the hall towards Hiyori’s room. There was silence during the short travel. Both Yokozawa and Hiyori had different ideas on what they planned to have happen when they reached the room. Opening the door, Hiyori moved to the side to let Yokozawa in. The salesman put the bags of clothes and all sorts of jewelry they picked up from the mall on the floor near the closet.

Hiyori sat on the bed unable to freely speak due to the anxiety. The teen had already came to the decision that she should wait until her father got home to get what she needed to say off her chest. For now, she just wanted to be alone to prepare how to approach the important topic of their relationship dynamics.

“Hiyo,” Yokozawa began trying to inquire about what was bothering the teenage girl.

“I had a lot of fun today. Thanks for hanging out with me. I’m feeling worn out after all the shopping we did,” Hiyori interrupted while crumpling the bag containing the hair scrunchies. “Would it be okay if I laid down to rest?”

“Yes. Go ahead and rest up for as long as necessary. Call for me if need anything,” Yokozawa replies, disappointed and concerned at being cut off from talking to her.

“Of course. Talk to you in a few,” Hiyori said as she flopped on her side facing the wall.

Lips twitching, Yokozawa sighed as he closed the door softly behind him. Going to the living room, he pressed the power button on the television. The salesman sank into the couch. He was too worried about the Hiyori’s abnormal behavior to calm down. He racked his brain for anything he might have said or done to upset or offend her, but he couldn’t pin point anything.

Yokozawa really wished Kirishima was here. He was sure his handsome, smooth talking, lover would have been able to easily deal with Hiyori. They were partners in crime and amazing at reading each other. The father-daughter duo could tell when the other was feeling down or distracted by something even when to any outsider it appeared that Kirishima and Hiyori were fine.

Yokozawa worked hard to improve his skills on recognizing and interpreting the masks and little actions that father and daughter used when they were attempting to obscure their true feelings and opinions on subjects. Obviously, he still had a long way to go to reach their level of being able to read the two. So, it is frustrating when something like this happens where he gets shut out because he couldn’t read the signs of what had caused Hiyori to become distanced from him as she had.

Pulling out his phone, Yokozawa noticed that the time was 5 o’clock meaning that Kirishima wouldn’t be home for at least another hour or two. It occurred to Yokozawa that calling Kirishima would help alleviate some of the stress that built over Hiyori and his travel back to the apartment. Also, it might quiet the nagging voice in his head that demanded he be more authoritative with the teenage girl and tell her that they needed to talk.

Refusing to be a burden to his lover, Yokozawa dismissed the tempting idea. It would be bad to distract Kirishima at work over what could be Yokozawa overthinking things. Blankly, Yokozawa stares at the television screen hoping that Kirishima would be done sooner rather than later.

Two hours passed, before his lover returned from work. The light brown haired man drops his work items on the floor. He had been jealous that he got called in to work while Yokozawa and Hiyori got to spend have a fun filled day together. Kirishima figures that tomorrow all three of them could go to the park and have a picnic or go to the aquarium.

Honestly, Kirishima could care less about where they went, he just wanted to be around the two people that his world revolves around. In a jolly mood, Kirishima went to go playfully tell Yokozawa and Hiyori about how they better get some rest tonight because they were going to have a busy day entertaining him starting early in the morning the next day. The editor figured he would find the two out in the living room watching a movie.

He was mildly shocked to only see Yokozawa slumped on the couch. His lover looked tense and exhausted. Not at all the attitude he expected to see. Frowning, Kirishima stepped in front of Yokozawa’s sight. Gray eyes blinked rapidly as Yokozawa sat up straighter.

“When did you...welcome back,” Yokozawa said running a hand thru his hair.

Skipping the greetings, Kirishima went over to his distressed looking partner. “What’s wrong?”

Flinching, Yokozawa gave a bitter smile. “I don’t know. The day started off great. Then, Hiyo grew a bit distant. And when we got back she chose to avoid me by telling me she needed to rest. I have gone over all the details of the day, but I can’t figure out what I did that made her close herself off from me.”

Placing his arm behind Yokozawa, Kirishima rubbed circles in his back to soothe his lover. Yokozawa leaned against Kirishima’s shoulder, allowing himself to calm down and to break up the whirling thoughts in his head. It was a bit disorienting how all it took was Kirishima being near him to make him feel like everything would be okay. Kirishima places a kiss on his forehead giving a few minutes for his lover to destress.

“I’m okay,” Yokozawa breathes out, feeling foolish for being this worked up without having heard any of Hiyori’s side.

Removing his arm from Yokozawa’s back Kirishima takes in the sight of the tint of pink on Yokozawa’s indicating his embarrassment. Smiling, Yokozawa ruffles Yokozawa’s hair, pleased to see Yokozawa’s typically feisty reaction of swatting his hand away. The salesman sits up missing the warmth and smell that surrounded from being that close to his lover.

“How about we have a chat with our precious girl?” Kirishima says lacing his fingers with Yokozawa’s.

Nodding, Yokozawa has more confidence about investigating Hiyori’s strange behavior with Kirishima by his side. He squeezes Kirishima’s hand as he says, “I’m ready.”

Reluctantly, Kirishima unlaced their fingers as yells, “Hiyo, come here!”

Hurrying down the hall, Hiyori half heartedly smiles at the the two men sitting on the couch. “Welcome back.”

“I’m back,” Kirishima says as he motions towards the chair. “Take a seat.”

Plopping down in the chair, Hiyori begins to uneasily twirl a strand of her hair. Folding her hands together to keep them from shaking, Hiyori takes a deep breath. It was ridiculous to be this unsettled when in front of her father and Yokozawa. They were the people she trusted to listen to her, to protect her, and to find solutions to any problems appeared.

It just goes to show how desperately she wanted this conversation to go over well. The logical part of her said that she was overthinking things. To take the leap and get off her chest everything she figured out. Another part of her kept rolling out all the possible ways this could go horribly awry. Squeezing her hands together, Hiyori gathers her courage.

“My angel, I came home assuming to you two out here being adorable as you the two of you are. So, it threw me off when I came home seeing Yokozawa having a mini break down due to panicking that he had upset you in some way. I figured that Yokozawa probably just read to much into things, but you are sitting here looking as stressed as Yokozawa was when he came home,” Kirishima spoke up having decided that they would get to the main issue faster this way.

Guilt crossed Hiyori’s face at hearing about Yokozawa’s state. The last thing she had been trying to do was cause the man to worry unnecessarily. However, when she recalled how she had acted it isn’t hard to see why he would be. Her lips twitched. She dipped her head as she bit her lip.

“Are you upset with Yokozawa? Did he offend you in some way? Do you need to speak to me privately?”

Yokozawa winced when Kirishima said this. While Yokozawa knew that Kirishima doubted that this was the reason behind Hiyori’s mood, it didn’t prevent him from feeling attacked by the implication of those words.Worse, it caused a sharp pain in him That’s he might actually confirm this. Hiyori might actually ask him to leave while they talked. He would though if that’s what the situation called for.

This got no reaction from the unusually quite girl. Kirishima tilted his head at Yokozawa and gave a him a look that said ‘sorry, but can you leave so I can take care of this.’ Nodding, the couch creaked as Yokozawa got up.

Clearing his throat, Yokozawa fought to hide the sadness he felt at having to be dismissed from the conversation. He never imagined that it would happen, but even more surprising is how it felt like a punch in a gut that made catching his breath difficult.

“I’m going to head back home. Call me when...if I can come back,” Yokozawa said his voice rough as there seemed to be a certain finality that would accompany him walking out the door.

His body seemed to weigh thousands of pounds. Taking even one step brought the possibility of shattering the salesman. Kirishima could see his lover slowly breaking. As much as he loved his daughter, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let Yokozawa leave like this. Kirishima prepared to reach out when Hiyori suddenly sprang into action.

Head whipping up, Hiyori’s eyes widened as she processed what he said. The only thing that her brain focused in on was that Yokozawa was going to leave. That he said he was going home. It irritated her to hear him use that word to describe his practically empty apartment with that word. She felt as if she had been insulted in the one of the worse possible ways.

Sinking to the floor, Hiyori wrapped her arms around Yokozawa’s legs. She had a strong hold that one wouldn’t have guessed such a delicate looking body would be capable of producing.Effectively, the girl had immobilized Yokozawa’s legs.

“No! You can’t leave! I don’t want you to!” Hiyori yelled causing both of the men to jolt.

Shocked, Yokozawa froze at the teenage girl’s action. Blinking, Yokozawa didn’t dare attempt to move his legs for fear that he would lose balance and end up crushing Hiyori. Glancing at Kirishima, Yokozawa could see the exact same shock along with concern reflected in his expression. The silent question of ‘where did this come from’ passed between the two men. Meanwhile, Hiyori had buried her head against Yokozawa’s leg shielding her face from them.

“Why do you go back there? Why do you have to leave?” A muffled sorrowful voice came from the the girl drawing both men’s attention.

“I don’t have to leave...I-I....,”Yokozawa began, stuttering as he switched gears to adapt to topic brought on following Hiyori’s outburst.

“Then you shouldn’t go. You should just live here. Stay here”

“Hiyo....it’s not a good idea.”

“Why? I don’t understand.”

Conflicted, Yokozawa debates on how best to answer this. All kinds of possible things to say came to mind. Hit occurred to him that Kirishima had been silent so far. When he shifted his eyes over to Kirishima, the man looked at him shaking his head. It made sense, after all Kirishima had wanted an answer to this same question for years. So, Yokozawa couldn’t count on Kirishima to take care of this. It was his responsibility.

“People wouldn’t be suspicious if I moved in,” Yokozawa weakly explained. “They might treat you cruelly if they...”

Faltering, Yokozawa didn’t finish the sentence out loud. He look down as he felt the brown haired girl’s head shift. She met his gaze those big, beautiful brown eyes shimmered due to unshed tears. Yokozawa had to close his eyes for a moment as he despised being the reason for Hiyori’s sadness. What Yokozawa missed in this few seconds was the recognition that lite those brown eyes at his words.

“If they found out you were dating my father,” Hiyori completes his sentence.

Yokozawa stared dumbfounded briefly. His instinct had been to blame Kirishima for telling her even though he had promised to wait until she was sixteen. However, a quick peek at his lover revealed that Kirishima had also been blindsided by this. Kirishima remained composed, however Yokozawa could tell that now the man was rest to step in to do damage control.

“Yeah,” Yokozawa quietly confirmed realizing that no lies would fool Hiyori as she wasn’t asking if they were dating she was stating that she knew.

Releasing her grip on Yokozawa’s legs, Hiyori stood up. Her face was blank. Yokozawa stiffened not sure what to expect. Anger, disappointment or maybe even disgust. His heart was thumping so loud that he wouldn’t be surprised if all of them could hear. The couch creaked as Kirishima moved closer towards the two. It may sound bad, but Yokozawa couldn’t entirely be sure that Kirishima would be on his side if Hiyori began to hate him. To be fair though Kirishima has had Hiyori in his life longer than Yokozawa. And she is his child.

Breathing out in relief, Hiyori glared at them accusingly. “You should have told me. It would have saved us from all the trouble and stress today!”

“What are you talking about?” Yokozawa asked as soon as he could get his mouth working.

“The reason that I had avoided you is because I was afraid that of how you would react when I brought up the fact that you two should date among other things,” Hiyori explained shaking her head. “As it would turn out you two already one or probably ten steps ahead of me.”

“Y-you were going to ask us to date?” Yokozawa stuttered out.

“Yes,” Hiyori said. “I was so worried that you would be against the idea. Most importantly, I was afraid we might lose our close relationship. I didn’t want you to hate me.”

Yokozawa felt as if he was talking to himself. Those were the exact thoughts that kept him from telling Hiyori about their relationship in the first place. Or well at least it was the main one. Yokozawa felt as if the biggest of the weights dragging him down had been lifted. Kirishima had been right as always: Hiyori didn’t have a bigoted bone her body.

It made him ashamed for ever believing this precious girl would ever turn on him. “It was the same for me. I didn’t want you to hate me. The thought terrified me.”

“Never! I would never hate you,” Hiyori firmly stated.

Yokozawa smiled at Hiyori who had a grin of her own. Kirishima watched with his own tender smile. Reaching forward Kirishima went to pat them both in the back, but ended up using to much force.

“Ow.” “Ouch.” Yokozawa and Hiyori groaned as they turned narrowed eyes to Kirishima.

Raising his hands, Kirishima quickly says, “My bad. To be honest though you both deserved that for being idiots.”

Both Yokozawa and Hiyori went to deny that. Instead, they exchanged a glance and ended up chuckling. It had been stupid of them to keep get so worked up over something they both knew in the deepest parts of their heart was never going to be an issue.A peaceful silence occurred as all three of them sat on the couch. Yet, Hiyori hadn’t finished saying all that she had on her mind. Turning towards the two men, their was an excited sparkle in her eyes.

“When are you moving in?” Hiyori questions.

“I can’t,”Yokozawa quietly refused again.

“Eh? How come?” Hiyori badgered bit about to let this go.

“If I move in with you people will get suspicious. It could make life difficult. I don’t want to do that to you two,” Yokozawa answers aware that his resolve to not live with them was slipping away.

“And?” Hiyori asks as if Yokozawa hadn’t replied at all. “Is that all you got?”

Flustered, Yokozawa grasped for something else to say. In his mind this had been all the reason he needed. It had been enough to fend Kirishima off from pushing to much. Yet, Hiyori didn’t appear to be phased at all.

“Go ahead. Let people say what they want. I’m not some delicate flower that is going to wither up just because some people get off on putting other people down. As long as the three of us have each other’s backs we can handle anything,” Hiyori challenged, her hands balled into fists.

“I second this notion,” Kirishima pitches in, approval in his voice and eyes.

When faced with their confidence, Yokozawa has no choice but to be swept along in their pace. Although this time is a bit different. Instead of being dragged along by their pace Yokozawa finds himself wanting to dive in head first. All his insecurities and doubts be damned! There was still a bit of hesitation though that made him remain quiet.

Hiyori grabbed Yokozawa’s hand. “Many people have told or asked my father and me about having a new mother. And it always made me feel uneasy or angry. Some part of me never wanted another person be a part of the life my father and I had.”

Yokozawa had his full attention in the adorable girl. Kirishima also had a rare intensity in the way he watched his daughter and had his complete focus on her. Both of them were curious about where this was going to go. Hiyori squeezes Yokozawa’s hand and smiles so sweetly and lovingly.

“At least until you came around Yokozawa. You were always like a parent to me. And it took me way to long to realize this, but I do want a new parent in my life. Not a mother, but a father, more specifically you as my father as well,” Hiyori said, exhilarated to be able to put all the pieces together at last.

“Are you absolutely sure you are okay with me?” Yokozawa blurted out showing his lack of confidence and insecurities. “Do I deserve to take the place beside your father as his partner and fill the place a mother should be?”

“It has to be you. Only you,” Hiyori confirmed, making Yokozawa’s lips twitch in amusement at words he had been told before by her father.

“You are our family and it’s time for you to come to where you belong. Come home,” Kirishima and Hiyori said in unison with their typical cheery smiles. Both of them held out their hands. Their faces fully expressing the love they had for Yokozawa.

Yokozawa’s heart swelled. If he was being honest, he couldn’t dispel the feeling of beings a stranger here. Even though he practically came over everyday. It had been five years and that feeling had followed him for all that time. Now he was truly family. And now he truly belonged their.

Grabbing their hands, Yokozawa was pulled into a hug. And from the bottom of his heart, truly and sincerely, Yokozawa could say, “I’m home.”

@trifiesta

#trifiesta #yokozawa takafumi #kirishima zen #kirishima x yokozawa #hiyori #fluff #home #family #miscommunication #belonging #day 3

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chrisstevenson · 4 years

Text

The Lows of High Book Prices

A thousand pardons if I come off like a rant. I'm a mashup between J.A. Konrath and Harlan Ellison. I'm a writer advocate and defender of the written word. I also watch the industry like a stealthy Sasquatch. These articles are always meant for Guerrilla Warfare for Writers, my down and dirty blog. There is no BS here. Maybe some inaccuracies. I don't even like posting these articles to my YA website--no one reads me there anyway. I hope you suffer me well.

First and foremost, if you are a celebrity author you don't need to be reading this. If you are an A-list author, pass on by. If you are a very popular author with a huge reader fan base and have a enormous mailing list that draws purchasing customers in like flies, audios. If you have a break-out or bestseller, you can kindly leave by through back door. There will also be some outlier exceptions. This article is not a call to arms for you. You are profitable, consistent and probably comfortably set in the mighty realm of book sales.

If you are new to writing with a minimum number of releases, an old-time mid-lister like me with a ton of books out there, or a new writer launching your first book, I think you better read this and make some grave determinations. It's unlikely a publisher is going to read this, but I've been with and seen too many that need to know what is working and what is not as far as ad pricing. This warning goes double for authors who just don't care that their e-book prices are going to be placed high regardless. It goes triple (as of this writing) because of the corona virus and the financially stressed atmosphere it has created. People are buying essentials. As far as entertainment, they are streaming movies and playing games. Who started the the rumor that they were buying books hand over fist? Do you remember when this news was sent out on the wings of doves at the very beginning of the pandemic spread?

I would like you to read three paragraphs (below) which come straight from the keys of most of the advertisers I know and have dealt with. The wording might not be the same but the implications all point to the same conclusion. They don't want your high-priced book. They want rock-bottom cover prices and freebies. The reason is twofold; Shoppers want bargains, plain and simple. That's why W-Mart and Amazon rule the nest. Yet the second reason is that the company itself doesn't want to lose a potential customer. That means you won't be coming back for seconds if there are flat sales. They are also competing with other promotion and marketing sites that have the same mindset policies.

Here's my statistics for two YA fantasy/thrillers that had excellent covers and blurbs. Both of these ads were run before and during a Halloween special (the horror factor was quite evident).. Both books were priced at $2.99.

Book one ran for 15 days on a $45 budget. It received 5,391 impressions; total clicks--5--and a CTR of 0.09%

Book two ran for seven days on a $100 budget. It received 10,195 impressions; total clicks --13 and a CTR of 0.13%.

I don't think I have to do the math for you. Except for the takeaway, which was $145.00 from me and some wide-eyed experience. I later changed companies, dropped the e-book price to .99 cents, and still fell flat--no sales. We could argue all day long about what I did wrong with these two companies. I did not stop there. I enlisted in seven of the companies listed below, with very low, rock-bottom prices. Please excuse my spelling on the names.

Just Kindle Books

Fiverr--bkknights

Fussy Librarian

FreeBooksie

E-book Hounds

Robin Reads

Kindlebook Review

Book Barbarian

Booksends

BookDealio

Ebookdiscovery

Ereader IQ

Ent

Book Reader Magazine

Pretty Hot books.

Out of my promotions, I received three apologies and full refunds. I think I sold two books from Ent. That was it. I won't go into which seven, but I did do my research beforehand. They were my best picks.

Have you ever heard that it wasn't the gold miners who made money off their digs, but the merchants who sold them the supplies, tools, products and other services? We basically have the same thing going on here, with grandiose claims of the promotion and marketing companies talking about going to the top of the sales charts, breakouts, unlimited exposure and guaranteed results. Results. Not sales. Impressions and clicks are a normal state of business and you'll see them. What you won't see are voluminous click-throughs--buys, sales, mullah.

There are many Indie writers who are exceptions to this rule because they have targeted outfits that payoff for them. Might be some trade published out there too. This comes from a lot of trial and error--R & D--and it NEVER ends because the books can go through an insufferable amount of tweaking to fine-tune the results. This happens when an author watches his/her ups, downs and in betweens--the stats that govern peak sales. Self-published authors also get a larger percentage cut of the royalties than the small trade-house authors. Many of the elite Indie authors pay thousands for ads a months, but they reaps thousands plus in return. So it is a revolving door for them--huge investments that garner huge profits. You want to make money, you have to spend it. That's not my quote, lol.

Look, all I'm saying is be wise and careful with your expenditures. You are going to see, if you already haven't, self-proclaimed experts that can do all forms of editing, covers, formatting, book tours, pod-casts, trailers, page ads, listings, book-to-movie deals, screenwriting, agent introductions, publisher submissions, blurbs, illustrations, writing courses, query letters, one-on-one instruction, translations, ghostwriting, expedited (paid) reviews, synopsis's, proof reading, evaluations and all other manner of Internet blasting services. Can you pay for some of these services without losing your shirt or blouse? Sure you can! It's up to you. But be aware, unless you really need and believe in any of them, you'll lose out every time.

I often wonder if we are just giving our books away because the sea is awash with them. So many tens of thousands of books are published each year that the numbers keeps compounding and burying the authors under tons of pixels. Nobody can find you, lest you post on FB that you will commit suicide if somebody, anybody doesn't buy one of your books before you take that leap. Well, if it goes viral and you were bluffing, it would work. I think you get the idea. Dear gawd, I've often entertained the idea.

1. Your deal price should be as competitive as possible (This is a company motto BTW).

"We promise our subscribers the best deals available. The better the deal, the more appealing it is to our subscribers, and therefore the more likely it is to be selected by our editors/readers. We rarely feature books priced above $2.99, and even $2.99 is an unusually high price for many of our categories.(I JUST LOVE IT WHEN THEY SAY $2.99 IS UNUSUALLY HIGH).

"While your deal price should be based on your book marketing goals, pricing as low as possible will entice more readers to download your book. The lower the price, the higher the conversion rate of a Deal. Knowing this, our editors prefer books that are competitively priced, since those will drive a higher volume of reader engagement. They’re also able to select a higher percentage of discounted books. If you’re not selected for a deal between $0.99 and $3.99, consider resubmitting your book for a free promotion, as this can be a really effective way to increase your chances of getting selected.

"Keep in mind that the competitiveness of your price depends on your category. While it’s normal to see a higher priced book in Cooking, for example, prices are usually lower in the Mysteries or Romance categories (THOSE TWO ARE THE BEST-SELLING GENRES, BTW).. Browse through books in your category to see what’s competitive in your own genre. Again, if your book is not selected at one price, try resubmitting at a lower price or for free. Your chances of being selected will be higher."

Note the last sentence. They are going to select you in accordance with how profitable they think you can be.Sounds to me if you don't go low enough to suit them, they'll politely blow you off.

I've heard some positive news about AMS, BookBub featured ads, and in a blue moon, FB and Twitter boosters. I've used all but the grand daddy feature ad. While these might still show some profit, they certainly aren't working like they used to. Profit has measurably declined, and I mean this in a general sense.

What does my crystal ball tell me for the future? I can only take a wild stab at it and say that the heavy visual sites like Pinterest, Instagram, Tumblr and others are driving a wedge between the other competitors. They could be the wave for future book exposure. I know their swords are drawn against Amazon

Anybody have any solutions or ideas about gaining some profitability in this industry? I'd love to hear it. Or any promo/marketing site that has fulfilled your dreams. BTW, just like FB put the whammy on My Space, do you see another FB type site in the future? I dooooo,

Blessed wishes, please stay safe and healthy.

Chris and Christy.

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eirenare · 4 years

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I’ve just read the new “The Rise of Kylo Ren” interview with Charles Soule (the writer) and Will Sliney (the artist) and thought I’d do a post about it because there’s some very interesting stuff

And also I may or may not be absolutely amused at some descriptions for the former leader of the Knights of Ren

[More under the “read more” because of spoilers of TROKR, and because of speculation/theorizing of TROS.]

“They call him Ren, but that wasn’t always his name.

“Born out of the flames,” as artist Will Sliney puts it, the leader of the Knights of Ren in the opening pages of the new comic Star Wars: The Rise of Kylo Ren #1, arrives battle-scarred and wearing a fearsome, featureless mask — a blank expression save for a smattering of claw-like gouges. Concealed within is a charismatic leader, the exact type of person who would be able to seduce young Ben Solo away from the path of the Jedi.”

They’re going to talk about “The Rise of Kylo Ren”—they spent the first paragraphs mostly talking about Ren

And... *arching eyebrows at the first phrases* So... “They call him Ren, but that wasn’t always his name”, and “born out of the blames”, and “fearsome, featureless mask”... Yeah, this totally does nothing to stop me from thinking Ren’s gonna be future/alternative Ben

Alexa, play “Dark Horse” *looking sideways at Dark Rey and Ren*

“I wanted him to read like a charming Darth Vader,” says writer Charles Soule. “A Vader who is charismatic and who is appealing. That’s why [Ren’s] skin is burned and he sort of looks the way that he does. He’s embracing the seductiveness and the damage that the dark side does. Darth Vader, as impressive and imposing and terrifying as he is, is remote and cold and distant because he has the suit surrounding him. Whereas Ren isn’t hiding behind it. He’s someone you could have a beer with, in theory.”

Oh, so are we going parallel territory with the Darth Vader, like previously with Ben and Anakin? Interesting... *munches popcorn* Also lol at having a beer with him

“Designed purposefully for the new comic series, with issue #1 out now, Ren feeds the evolution of Kylo Ren. “The entire seductiveness of the dark side poured into one character engineered for Ben Solo is Ren,” Soule says. “He’s sort of a charming evil rascal that can be really fun to write and I really like where he goes in the series. But if Kylo Ren is going to take over the Knights of Ren, which we know that’s what happens, there should be some transition.”

I didn’t think I’d see Mr. Hottie McHotHot aka Ren defined like a “sort of a charming evil rascal”, but yeah, that’s kriffing funny and awesome and I can’t wait to see what happens in January

But now... now comes the super juicy bits...

“The creative team engineered some surprises for this charming dark sider, a foil in many ways to Darth Vader hiding beneath his protective covering. “You expect the dude hiding his face under a mask like that to be all messed up, particularly with his body looking the way it does,” Soule says. But in issue #2 we’ll see what he’s truly concealing, a reveal that speaks to Ben on a whole other level.”

Why does this sound familiar? ... Ah, yes, because it’s kind of the way they described Ben‘s unmasking in TFA, the whole “you expect a monster but you got this young tortured prince”. Sounds like that a lot. Also, the fact that what he’s hiding under the mask seems it will be a huge reveal to Ben and that they’ve “engineered some surprises for this charming dark sider”? Not to mention that, again, we have a comparison with Darth Vader

Yep, this definitely does nothing to keep me from going on with my Ren/Ben theory

“I think the key to writing Ben Solo is to write him as a lost teenager who is deeply in touch with emotions that teenagers often feel,” Soule says. “He feels like no one understands him, no one sees him the way he actually is, he’s utterly alone and there’s no one else out there in the universe. So when he sees Ren, he’s like, ‘Wait a minute — maybe there is somebody like me in the universe. Maybe there is a path for a guy like me. Look at the choices he’s made. I could make those choices, too, and I could be cool.’”

Okay, so, who the kriff is cutting onions in the room? *Ben feels intensify*

Also there might or might not be a certain Disney song going on my head right now reading this lol

“The story also calls for the re-introduction of a younger, seemingly kinder Snoke, wearing a little cap, no less. When we meet him in the series, the future Supreme Leader of the First Order is essentially a gardener. “When we were in the design process, Snoke is someone that you know is going to defy expectations and it’s not going to be the Snoke that you know,” Sliney says. “And it’s important because we’re going to see a very, very different relationship that Snoke and Ben have. It establishes that this is not the Snoke that’s going to Force-choke Hux and slam him into the ground. He’s playing the long game…so it was important to portray Snoke differently.

And true to his festering nature, Snoke inhabits a place that on the surface seems serene and beautiful, but is rotten at its core, a script note that spurred Sliney to google “rotting fruit” for artistic inspiration.”

Snoke is a scary predator. Whatever he is, whatever it’s his relationship with Palpatine, that’s the thing—they’re both scary predators, and I can’t even begin to imagine all the shit fed to poor Ben’s head

Also, about that world... Another thought that came to me (besides Mortis stuff) is that maybe it could be the deserted/stormy place we see in the TROS trailers, like the planet finally rotten inside and outside, kind of as a reflection as to how appearences have fallen apart and all that’s left to show is the rotting

“Like Sheev Palpatine, the once humble senator of Naboo, “Snoke is someone who knows the playbook,” Soule says. “It’s a similar play in terms of, ‘I’m a nice guy who’s just trying to help you,’ which is kind of what Palpatine did. But Snoke’s path to power, Snoke’s seduction technique, Snoke’s message and teachings are, I think, pretty different from the way Palpatine did it…. His job is not so much to corrupt as it’s to represent an alternative to the legacy [Ben has] been presented.” In concert with Ren presenting an alternate path, Snoke’s suggestive philosophy is appealing to a young boy who feels lost. “Everyone’s telling you you’re X, but what if you’re Y? What feels correct to you? Are you Obi-Wan Kenobi or maybe you’re something else?” Soule says. “All you need to be is whoever you are and no one’s letting you do that…and maybe, shouldn’t you go someplace where you can be who you are?”

Now that’s a specially terrifying way of predating—you may be able to get away from all the people you love, detach from them so as to protect them and protect your heart, but you can’t run away from yourself and your thoughts and feelings, and that’s what Snoke targets with Ben

“To bring these characters alive on the page, Sliney pulled reference material from Celtic myths and poured over books featuring the art of Star Wars. “I don’t think I’ve ever studied as much as I have,” he says. “Everything Star Wars. I have all those art books, whether it’s the modern ones or the ones from the original movies or the prequels. I love the art…I think it’s important to pay respects to the amazing concept art that have made these movies along the way.”

Those artists, of course, famously took their inspiration from earlier works, so Sliney went back even further. “I’m going backwards as much as I can in terms of the feel of it,” he says. “It needed to feel epic and it needed to feel powerful. It’s bringing it back to that mythological kind of feeling. I have a big influence from a lot of old ancient Celtic stories that date back thousands and thousands of years. These stories of lone warriors who died on the hill…. Those ancient books, they carry that gravitas.”

That’s interesting. Maybe the big “dead” tree around the machinery comes from Celtic mythology? After taking a look at some info, I’d say this screams “tree of life” to me, which would pretty much fit like a glove with the Force and the balance because it represents harmony and all that. Also, if you want to know something funny, according to this webpage (Irish Around the World), “trees were a connection to the world of the spirits and the ancestors, living entities, and doorways into other worlds”, it says, among other things

And, to finish:

“Meanwhile, Soule pulled much of his writing inspiration from the Skywalker saga itself, save for Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, which was still in production at the time. Soule went back and studied the first time we see Kylo Ren on screen, wondering to himself about the implication that Ben Solo had met Lor San Tekka in their younger days. “There’s a lot of data hidden between the subtext and text,” Soule says. “It’s about doing the research on that level just to see what connections might be made, but it’s also the feel of it.”

After all, Ben Solo’s bloodline makes him Star Wars royalty. “This is a story about legacy,” he says. “It’s a story about family and expectations and the fact that Ben Solo is part of a vast network of galaxy-changing individuals from his mom and his dad, to his uncle, to his adopted uncle, Lando, to his namesake Ben Kenobi, to his grandfather, Darth Vader…Within one step of him are arguably some of the most important people in the galaxy. So his story is their story and you can’t tell Ben Solo’s story without knowing all the other ones backwards and forwards.”

Interesting, about the writing inspiration... I’m really curious to see how it’ll fit with TROS

Can’t wait to see TROS tomorrow, both because of the movie itself and to start thinking where TROKR may land because, hey... we’re still 3 issues away from the comic to end, 3 months

#Baby boy Ben Solo #Ben Solo #Kylo Ren #We also have content of Mr. Hottie McHotHot aka Ren the former leader of the Knights #Ren the Knight #TROKR #The Rise of Kylo Ren #Star Wars #SW #Star Wars TROKR #Star Wars The Rise of Kylo Ren #SW TROKR #SW The Rise of Kylo Ren

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madcapmoon · 5 years

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Ian MacKaye - 2009 interview

by Mark Prindle

Ian MacKaye IS Washington DC punk rock. Beginning his recorded career with high school punk band Teen Idles, he went on to found Dischord Records, lead seminal harDCore band Minor Threat, pioneer emo-punk with Embrace, and create some of the greatest, smartest guitar rock of all time in Fugazi. These days, he's recording with his partner Amy Farina as The Evens, caring for their infant son Carmine, periodically conducting live Q&A sessions for fans, and continuing to run Dischord with founding partner (and former Minor Threat drummer) Jeff Nelson. Thanks to the persistence of Citizine editor Thom White, Ian was kind enough to take 90 minutes out of his morning one cold March day to talk to me on the old telephone. Unfortunately I had just woken up and was a bit groggy and out of sorts. Thankfully, he was NOT! My questions are in bold print; his responses are in straight edge.

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

Hello?

Hello, Ian?

That's me.

Hey, Mark Prindle.

Oh hey. Hold on one second, okay? Let me put you on hold.

(*hold occurs*)

Mark?

Yeah.

I've got a huge gig ahead of me today, but I have a few minutes now if you want to do a little bit of work. I gotta write royalty checks today. We've had all sorts of problems, including that snowstorm yesterday, so today's my big day. It takes me about, I don't know, five or six hours of writing checks. It's insane. I do it twice a year. But I kinda like doing it. I think it's good. I do it by hand, and it gives me an opportunity to kinda think about everybody in all these bands. Because basically I'm paying royalties on some records that have been out for almost 30 years now. It's kind of amazing, so I sort of take a second as I write each check to think, "Oh! Where the hell is that person these days?" Yeah, do you have a recorder?

Yeah.

Do you want to check it and make sure it's working?

Yeah, it's going.

Alright.

Is today okay?

I think we should just go for it, and at some point I may get a call. They gotta print out and analyze some stuff before I get on it - the other people in my office - so I've got a couple minutes now. I was actually just getting my desk cleared off so I could do that work. I can talk to you while I'm doing all that.

Okay. So you're a father now, right?

Yep.

How's that treatin' ya?

It's cool.

You getting much sleep?

I've never slept much, so it doesn't make much difference to me. I mean, I think people often.... Well, first off, I'm not particularly inclined to make this a 'He's a Dad!' kinda interview, but I will say this: that I was, and I continue to be, struck by the deep cynicism that surrounds people becoming parents. It's sort of like the weather conversation; when people know you're about to have a kid or if you have a kid, the first sort of comments are like "Oh, how hard is it? Your life's really different now! Get ready; your life is gonna change!" and all this really strangely negative tonality, which really was striking to me, especially right before our son was born. I'd meet people and they'd say, "Oh, it's hard. It's just awful." What are people talking about here!? Surely this is the most organic act in life! And though I don't recommend that everybody do it, that's not the point but rather that, for those people who decide to engage in it, what possible constructive purpose is there in these really negative kinds of warnings and cryptic comments?

And obviously, again it's like the weather, one of the first things most people say to me always is like "Getting any sleep?," that sort of thing, which I don't think of as necessarily.... Again, it's like a "Boy, it's cold outside!" kind of conversation, but the truth is that human beings, when they're new to this world, they're not on a particular, like - their cycles are different. And by and large, I think that the cycles that most of our society operate on are deeply unnatural, because they're keyed to the workplace. So yes it's true that, for instance, Carmine, our son - he got up this morning at around 5:00. Or 5:30 or whenever he did, I don't remember. But he wakes up periodically because he's hungry or disoriented or because he's a baby! And of course I wake up as well, or Amy wakes up. But here's the deal: you're being woken up by a human being which you actually were partly responsible for creating! That's okay! It's okay to be woken up by that. It's kind of incredible, when you think about it. It's sort of like a gift; you wake up and you're like, "My God! This actually... Did I have something to do with this?" And another point about rest and all that is that - you know, tour with Fugazi. Go on tour, get up at like 4:30, play a show til 3:00, get up at 6:00 to drive to catch a ferry to get to Denmark, drive all day and then play another show and don't get to sleep til another 3:00 in the morning - THAT's tired. This is easy. The baby stuff is easy.

Have you seen this Ben Kingsley video?

Yeah. By the way, I'm not saying -- if you have a question about it, I'm happy to talk about it. I'm just always leery, in terms of the kid, of sort of like, you know, "MacKaye and Fatherhood." I just find that kind of angle really -- it's strange to me, because it suggests somehow that for everybody it's this sort of total conversion, and for me it's all one thing. Did I see the Ben Kingsley video? Yeah. I was well aware of that thing, yeah.

What is it? What was it for? What was it made for?

There is a magazine from Los Angeles called Mean Magazine, and they have sort of developed this stylized approach to interviews. What they do is they interview people and then they have these highly sort of conceptual photo shoots for the article, and they videotape the actual shoot, which is then used on the web site as sort of something you can do, just a way to s-, I don't know - synergy! Or whatever the fuck. So in the case of the Ben Kingsley - they actually contacted me and asked for my blessing. The guy that was interviewing Kingsley, or I think it was one of the editors, is a Minor Threat fan. And when Ben Kingsley had a new movie out, probably his publicity person was knocking on doors trying to get him interviewed. They were interested in talking to him, and, while thinking about what to conceptualize this photo shoot, the editor was thinking about Kingsley, and of course one of Kingsley's most famous roles was that of Gandhi. And because this guy was such a huge Minor Threat, and he said that he often associated ME with Gandhi, he thought, "That would be funny!"

He pitched it to Kingsley. He told me that Kingsley knew nothing about me or Minor Threat or the punk underground; he just didn't know really anything about it. But then they looked at some videos on the computer, and Kingsley was really kind of like, "Oh, this is cool! Okay, let's do it." And Kingsley said, "I'll give you forty minutes." Or half an hour or something. So they basically hired an audience; they paid a bunch of people 25 or 50 bucks to come out to a club. They essentially recreated the Minor Threat At 9:30, which is the show that is on this Minor Threat live DVD, which is probably the best visual evidence of the band that exists. Moving visual, I guess. They kinda recreated that, and Kingsley studied the video - looked at me in the video. It's interesting to me to see his technique because you can see that there are, you know - it's been a while since I've seen it, but there are certain little things he does - he picks up on very subtle gestures. By and large, he doesn't look anything like me to me, but there are moments where I'm like, "Oh! He's actually acting here!"

It was touching, and flattering of course, but mostly it was just fascinating to me to be an observer of a phenomenon. The one thing about any time Minor Threat or Fugazi pop up in that way, I find it encouraging because I can say for sure, 100% positive, that neither one of those bands is being inserted into public discourse by media handlers. And I can say for sure that we're not connected to any major corporation and there was no synergy involved; like we didn't have a new Minor Threat release that we were trying to promote. So when Fugazi or Minor Threat or any of the Dischord bands pop up in this way to the surface of American culture, it's nice to think that those channels still exist. The fact that the corporate media, the larger media and the labels - the machinations that are behind that haven't managed to completely sew the whole affair up. Do you follow?

Yeah.

So when, for instance, Fugazi's "Waiting Room" was suddenly being played at Redskins football games, people were outraged - which I appreciate, because it's nice that people were like "What the hell do they think they're doing?" - but it's also kinda funny to think that somewhere in the bowels of that stadium, or in the bowels of that organization, somebody who's responsible for picking the music, like, put a Fugazi song on there! It was not of our doing! We didn't have anyone placing it. I can say again with absolute 100% positive assuredness that there is no insertion going on. This is actually people's choice. And I like that. I think it's reassuring. I don't like it because it makes me feel good about my music, or I don't like it because it helps advertise my music. Rather, I like it because it means that the channels still exist, and that's a nice thing to think.

Do you think that Fugazi is permanently retired now?

I don't know. I'm not trying to be vague or coy. I have no idea. I can tell you that we are very close friends. We are constantly in touch with each other. We have worked with each other on various projects, not all musical, but we're a family. And I don't think there's a single one of us who doesn't have deep love for the others and for the music and the work. But we also made a decision to go onto an indefinite hiatus, and that indefinite hiatus, again though people thought it was really sort of a cheeky phrase, it wasn't meant to be. It just means exactly what it says. We didn't know what the future would hold; we still don't know. But we chose that because we don't see ourselves as like -- we're not a store. We're not out of business. And we're not even a band, in a way. We just can't simply break up. We've known each other for many many years, and we were in a band together for 15 years, and that is an extremely intimate experience, the amount of time we spent together. And our development in our lives, in the way we grew up and all the developments in our lives, were deeply affected and attended by the others. So it's not something as quite as simple as, you know, "Fuck you! I'm gonna quit the band." It wasn't like that. It was rather a moment in time in which circumstances in our lives made it impossible to continue working in a way that was necessary for Fugazi to work. Would I like to make music with those guys? Well, of course! I mean, are you kidding? I loved it. It was amazing to work with them. And I do occasionally play music with Joe, or work on some recording things or mix some stuff or talk about music with Guy or Brendan or whatever, so it's entirely possible. But I will say this: at the moment, Joe's living in Rome, which throws a pretty interesting little monkeywrench in terms of rehearsals. But we'll see. Who knows?

There's a pretty major, major change between what you were doing before Fugazi and then Fugazi. And then as Fugazi kept going, each record seemed sort of different from the others, yet each record was smarter and more - you just seemed to keep it fresh, but it was just (sigh). The question I'm trying to get to here is how did you manage this? I mean, was it different music you were listening to, or did you guys purposely try to come up with album sounds you hadn't done before? I mean you started off as hardcore in Minor Threat, and Fugazi was just so smart and full of all the guitar interplay and just (sigh) I don't know. I'd just like to know the -

Well, how long have you been writing?

How long have I been writing?

Yeah.

Mmm, about 15 years.

So have you ever gone back and listened to your earliest writings?

Yeah.

Would you say there's been any evolution since that time?

Yeah.

Just over 30 years ago, right now, I decided that -- Jeff and I had seen the Cramps. It was our first show; it was February 4th, 1979. No, February 3rd - which is 30 years almost to the day before Lux Interior died. The first show that I ever saw was the Cramps. Also ironically, I didn't know Guy at the time, but it was his first show as well. But when Jeff and I and all the rest of us came out of that show, we were absolutely committed to forming a band. Because it was just so incredible. "We gotta make a band!" I had never been in a band prior to that. The only thing I'd really ever played was a piano. I'd never played a bass or a guitar. Hold on one second, okay? Speak of the devil, it's Jeff Nelson. I'll be right back. Hold on a second.

(*holds, because former Minor Threat drummer JEFF NELSON has called Ian on the other line*)

Hi. Sorry about that. So basically there was four of us at Wilson High School - Geordie Grindle, Mark Sullivan, Jeff Nelson and me. And Mark and Geordie had been sort of in bands before; Mark was a singer and Geordie was a guitar player. Jeff had played tympani in the school orchestra, so he had to be the drummer. And I said, "Okay, I guess I'll play bass!" That was 1979. So essentially I just taught myself, and Geordie taught me how to play bass. We just played, and then over the years obviously if you keep working on something.... Music was never a choice for me. The instruments and the approach - that I will say is a choice. But the music is coming out one way or the other; it's looking for the portal. It's looking for the way out. I would actually say that - you know, Slinkees and Teen Idles, I mean, okay that's maybe rudimentary music. I actually think that Minor Threat was extremely smart music. I know that it seems simple, but try playing it some time. Or try writing a song that sounds like it. It's hard! It's not quite as simple as it may seem. And I can't really take credit beyond, I mean obviously I wrote the lyrics. I wrote a lot of the music, but really it was the way that Brian, Lyle and Jeff played music. They were phenomenally good! Lyle Preslar is a very underrated guitar player. The guy played lightning-fast with incredible precision, and he played - do you play guitar at all?

Mm-hmm.

Lyle played six-string bar chords. It wasn't three strings. To this day, when I play a bar chord it's just the top three strings really. Lyle is playing full-position bar chords at that speed. The guy is a phenomenal guitar player. So I think if you listen to Minor Threat - for instance if you were to study the discography, you'd hear the beginnings, which is songs like "Stand Up" or "Minor Threat," these sorts of things. They were my songs for the most part. But then you start hearing the sort of evolution where, I mean "Out Of Step" is actually quite a departure! The "Out Of Step" album, when you start hearing songs like "No Reason" and "Think Again," you can hear evolution coming in. And then "Salad Days" - it's just pursuing music and pursuing this ideas of the sound - trying to understand it. I will say this: I've always resisted change, but I've always accepted evolution. The idea of deliberate change - let me rephrase that: I have resisted deliberate change. "We need to make different music." I actually think we're gonna make different music, because every day we're different people. We just need to be organic about it.

And obviously Embrace was a different kettle of fish and different people in the band -- people who were in different places with their ability and their styles of music. And Fugazi - first off, we practiced for a year before we played a show. We toured for a year before we put out our first record. We practiced, even throughout the '90s, we would practice three, four, five times a week for at least two, three or four hours a day. We played a lot! That's what we did; we were playing music. And then when we toured, Fugazi played over a thousand shows. Played a lot of gigs! And just the sheer reputation of that, that constant work -- one's relationship with their instrument, one's relationship with their music, one's relationship with each other, the interplay with each other, one's perspective on it is so affected by that. You just can't deny it. For instance, people who are fans of, say, Fugazi -- they may think that a song like "Waiting Room," for them, the version that is on that record - the first song on the first record - that is the definitive version. For me, it is not. That is a baby picture. I played that song thousands of times after that, and it changed and changed and changed and changed. It grew up. So in terms of the way that Fugazi developed, I like to think that we always responded to the moment. And if you respond to the moment, then you always have a fresh moment in front of you, so it's always going to be fresh.

This is just a side question - something that I've wondered about for years. What is "Epic Problem" about?

Ha!

At the time, I read the lyrics and it seemed like it was about writer's block, but there didn't seem to be any evidence of writer's block on the record, so -

That is very interesting. Well, first off the title - "Epic Problem." The title "Epic Problem" was actually a working title for that piece of music, and the reason it was called "Epic Problem" is that the foundational bass riff of that song is something that I wrote in 1990. And it was something that we kicked around for a decade trying to make sense of it. It became a problem. It was our epic problem! We kept going back to it, and we just called it "Epic Problem" because we couldn't figure out how to get our minds around it. It never seemed to make sense entirely. I have probably a dozen different arrangements of that thing - this is all instrumental.

So that at some point led me to this idea of what an epic problem might be. An epic problem is a problem of the ages, you know? I mean, I'll have to think back; my relationship to my lyrics is a strange one, so I'm gonna have to think about what the actual lyrics are. But as I remember, it was a song about appearance, and how quite often people think of me specifically as somebody who doesn't have any problems. And everything's just fine, they don't have to worry about me, and also it results a little bit in abuse because they figure I can handle it. So like with somebody else, they'll be like, "Oh, you know, don't give that person a hard time because they're really sensitive" or whatever, which means that if you give me a hard time, that would suggest that they don't think I'm sensitive. Everything's sorted out and fine - I'm fine, you know? I think the idea of "Epic Problem" is that on the outside I'm working, but on the inside that's not necessarily the case. I am a sensitive person. I do actually feel things. What I feel though is interesting; I don't take things like personally, but I do take affronts as discouraging reminders of the human capacity for cruelty. I'll use a very simple example, for instance. Are you familiar with Poison Idea?

Yeah.

They at one point released a 12" EP, and the cover of this was a close-up of a giant spread asshole, and the record was called "The Ian MacKaye EP." I don't know those guys. I've never met those guys, or I had not met them at the time; I may have met one of them since then. I didn't have any problem with them. I didn't know anything about them. But that was, you know, "Hey! What did I do!? What did I do to deserve THAT?" And at some point I read an interview with them where they said, "Well, you know -" Or no, actually I think the guy that was distributing it contacted me and sent me a copy of it. And he said, "We just wanted to let you know that we weren't going to hide this from you. We did this and we're not trying to hurt your feelings; it's really aimed at the people who think you're a God." And I can't say that it hurt my feelings, because I just thought, "This is so ridiculous!" But it does actually make me feel bad, because it's just such a pointless exercise. You know, fight crime; don't fight nice guys! What the fuck did I do? Furthermore, they did not understand -- and I think that people who often do this sort of tactic like "Well, it's not really about you; it's about the people who worship you," this sort of thing -- what they don't understand is that by assailing me, by throwing stones at me or my name, if they don't think that they are injuring me, then they must think I'm impervious. They must think I'm a God! So in fact they are reinforcing the notion that I am not a human being, because they are taking shots of me and expecting me to not fall. Do you follow?

Yeah.

Over the years, I've had a lot of inconsiderate and sometimes cruel and sometimes destructive pranks done in my name. And it doesn't hurt my feelings personally, but it is again a discouraging reminder. So the point of "Epic Problem" anyway is that I am actually a human being. And there are sets, there are sceneries, I do actually put things up because it's not something that I'm necessarily going to discuss or share with people, but at the same time it's something that I'm wrestling with. It's an epic problem. It's a way of like "Well, how do I go forward?" I'd have to go through the lyrics; I can't remember the rest, and there's a bit more of a stew than that, but that's a couple of potatoes.

The thing I remember from back in those days when I first saw Maximum Rock & Roll -- which was pretty late actually, not until '89 or '90 -- is that there seemed to be a group of people who didn't like you because they thought you were really judgmental.

Right.

Do you consider yourself judgmental? I mean, I know you have a strong -

No actually, I don't. I don't think I'm judgmental. I don't think of myself as intolerant, and I'm not a fundamentalist. I think that is other peoples' issues, not mine. I mean, what does it mean to be judgmental?

I guess stuff like when you - I mean, I understand why you did it, but stuff like being up onstage making fun of people for slam dancing or that kind of thing.

Well, I don't see that as judgmental; I see it as a way of defusing an ugly situation. It's very difficult out of context for people to understand what was really happening. But for those of us who stood night after night on stages, in which you had -- I had situations, for instance once in Tampa, Florida, where I had 40 or 50 white power skinheads sieg heiling and beating the crap out of people. And of course most importantly, and this is most serious, there are situations -- I think probably half a dozen, maybe fewer, or even if it was just one! -- but situations in which people left our shows strapped to gurneys, backboards. They'd had their necks broken. And you're a writer. Imagine that every time you wrote an article, there was a frenzy to get to the newsrack, the newsstand or whatever publication your piece is appearing in, and people were trampled to death or to injury. At some point, you might think, "Well, this is absurd! I don't think I should be writing these articles, because I don't want people to be killed or injured in pursuit of this. Especially since there are plenty to go around!"

Jesus. I didn't realize it was that bad.

Yeah! It was bad! And worst of all is that it had nothing to do with the music. There was no relationship to the music. It was a behavioral ritual which then was fanned by MTV's insanity in the aftermath of Nirvana. There's a great story - a friend of mine was doing production work for rock gigs and he was working for a Bob Dylan show. And he said that Bob Dylan was playing, and suddenly a kid was crowd surfing and did a stage dive! My friend's a punk rocker and he was appalled! Like so embarrassed, because it just seemed completely so embarrassing. But then he heard a couple of Dylan's people in the back saying, "Wow, that was so exciting! That's really good for Bobby, you know? A little excitement. That's the kind of energy we want." And it just goes to show that it has really nothing to do with the music. And I don't think the people who were crowd surfing by and large intended to really hurt people; they might have on some level, but I don't think they were really thinking, "I'm gonna cripple somebody." I do think they were just exhibitionists. They were goofballs for the most part. However, it got to the point where it was just -- it's hard to play a show when the people in the front row, who by the way are often your biggest fans, are being perpetually injured. They don't need to have their necks broken; just think about having a 180-pound boy land on your head from behind you. Can you hold on one second for me? Hold on.

(*holds*)

Cool. That's my royalty call. I've got 15 or 20 minutes. So also, there's another component of this, which is that Fugazi worked very hard to bring music to people. We did venues that we thought were humane, venues that were open to all ages, that were safe places, and for $5 - really low ticket prices. The economy of rock and roll is deeply fucked up and largely driven by guarantees that bands make and the greed that exists in that world. We did not operate on guarantees; we worked on percentages. And by working solely on percentages, you're able to then readdress the way the economy of the gig will go. If you're demanding money, then the ticket price is not really yours to claim, you know? It's not for you to set. But if you're doing it by percentage, you're showing that you're willing to risk it along with everybody else. It also sets a certain cadence in terms of how much money can be spent. Let's say the room holds a thousand people, it's $5 a head, so we know right there that the gross is maximum $5000. So then we start factoring out what the rent's gonna be, how much it costs for the PA, the staffing, all this sort of stuff -- you gotta take that off the top, and then what's left we do a split with the promoter. Usually 70/30 - 70 to the band and 30% to the promoter. The promoter gets a little bit less money than a promoter might get at another gig; on the other hand, it's a no-brainer and it's no-risk because there's no guarantee.

So we put in enormous amounts of work constructing these things and working on these gigs, and we spent an awful lot of time double-checking and triple-checking and trying to make sure that everything was good and right and okay. Because of the fact the way we worked was so unorthodox, it meant having to go over it with people, because they were so used to the other ways of doing things. Even to the day, when we'd get to the gig, we had to remind the guy at the door, "Oh yeah, it's all ages. You don't have to card people." It's that sort of thing you have to go over, because they're just so used to the other way of doing things.

Now think about the fact that one of the skyrocketing costs of all the shows was security. I mean, there was a show we did in Chicago where the barricade made four times as much money as we did. The BARRICADE. And because you have a barricade, then you must have security people. You have to have security people - crowd management people - between the stage and the barricade. Because the barricade is a hole. So once you put a barricade in, then you have to staff the barricade. So it just costs more and more money, and this results in higher ticket prices. So these people that were just 'having fun' and just 'going off' - what they were really doing was they were perverting the peoples' music. They were creating a corporate climate. Do you follow?

Yeah.

This is something that I've spent a lot of time thinking about. I mean, this barricade in Chicago - we played at this place called I think the Aragon Ballroom in Chicago, and at that time there was these 'T' barricades. Are you familiar with that? It was a giant room that held 5,000 people, and the barricade was shaped like a 'T,' so you had the horizontal bit in front of the stage, but then right in the middle there was a barricade that goes straight down dividing the 'pit,' so to speak -- or the 'crowd,' if you prefer -- into two. But then you had to bring in even more security people to be in the middle slot. And we argued and argued about it, but the fix was in. The security people were connected, insurance rates drove up costs, and everything was just creating this insane confluence of things that jacked the cost of the show higher and higher and higher. I couldn't get them to waive it, so finally I said that I insisted that we include in the budget 100 balloons and a can of helium. And the guy was like, "What? What are you talking about!?" And I said, "If you're gonna have such a draconian set-up, and since when people are entering the room that's the first thing they'll see, it sets a contrary tone. So as a form of protest and an absurdity, I would like to soften it by having balloons tied to it all the way around." They did it! But I was just spitting in the wind, because that night we just got banged. We had 3900 people at that show, and we made less than the guy that drove the forklift. That's the risk we took by working percentages.

So what drove me nuts is that punk rock for me was, at the beginning, kids writing their own songs, forming their own bands, making their own music, putting on their own shows and creating their own scene completely off the radar. And part of being off the radar is, like Dylan says, "to live outside the law, you must be honest." So our point of view in Washington was we don't do vandalism, we don't shit where we live, and the rooms that would let us play were important to us. When there were scuffs or scrapes at those shows, it was people being basically served for like smashing a bathroom. "You can't do that! This is our lifeline!" So the idea was to stay off the radar and stay out of the view of the police. I didn't want the police to come to our shows. I wanted the shows! So this extended all the way through Fugazi -- the idea that so much energy and effort was spent, and so much MONEY was spent dealing with such a minority of people - and ne'er-do-wells! Did you ever see me give people their money back?

No.

We always had an envelope with $5 bills onstage. And there was like a show in Olympia where these skinhead guys were going crazy, and I said, "You know what? Time for refunds." And I got off the stage and I led a dozen guys out to the lobby and gave them $5 each and let them out the door. It's just not worth it! It's not worth 60 bucks! The show was so much better after they left. But in our society, the way we have a consumer mindset, the consumer is always right. The customer is always right, so therefore they think that by paying $5, they get to call the shots. Well fuck that, the $5 is just the turn of the key! We're just trying to make the gig happen! They don't get to call the shots. We collectively call the shots, and I'm at that show too.

That brings up something else that I wanted to ask you. By your refusal - not your refusal, that's not the word - by your decision not to compromise your beliefs or your art over all these years, did you end up having to worry about money a lot? Or was enough money coming in?

I've never worried about money particularly. I am frugal. Extremely frugal. And I'm not a cheapskate; I just don't need much. I see waste in most areas of our society, and it's so easy to avoid and just to live simply. I prefer to live simply. Hold on one second; let's see who's calling here. Oh, it's Brendan! Hold on a second.

(*holds, because Fugazi drummer BRENDAN CANTY has called Ian on the other line*)

Hey. He's just coming down here to pick up something. But also, Fugazi worked REALLY hard, and we sold A LOT of records. First off, Minor Threat -- and this is crazy, but Minor Threat has sold collectively like well over half a million records. And Fugazi, I think "Repeater" probably sold almost half a million records. So we sold a lot of records. And though our records are cheap, we were also super-efficient in making them. "The Argument," our last record -- we spent the most money on that one of all our records in terms of recording, and that was probably about between 12 and 14 thousand dollars. By some standards that may seem like a lot, but for a record that sold a couple hundred thousand copies, it's nothing! The first record - the one with "Waiting Room" on it, that thing? We probably spent $1200 recording that. And we never had a manager, we didn't have a booking agent, we didn't have lawyers, I don't have a lawyer, Dischord has never used contracts, so there's ways of doing things. It's creative response. It's like looking at a situation and being like, "Okay, how can I navigate it?" The amount of money you save by not engaging in business as usual is incredible. So I've never been particularly worried about money.

I will say that I also don't think in terms of making my money from my music. People say, "Well, this kind of stuff is easy for you to say, because you can make a living from your music." I make my living from my work. I'm not playing music right now. I am WORKING right now. I will be writing checks for five or six hours today. I haven't actually practiced with Amy for a month and a half. I'm not playing music everyday; I am running a label, and returning to Fugazi, there was so much administrative work. That is WORK. It's just straight-up work. One aspect of DIY that I think people really miss out on is that you actually have to "Do It" yourself. It's work! It's not just a classification, like "Well yeah, I'm DIY!," then you sit around at home. If you're DIY sitting at home, NOTHING is happening. It doesn't make any sense! The work has always been central, but I like to work. And of course I always have to credit reading a Black Flag interview in Damage magazine from San Francisco in probably 1980 or '81. I think Dukowski the bass player said he'd rather work a day job for the rest of his life than ever become dependent on his music. And I thought, "That resonates with me in a hell of a way!" I don't want my art to be compromised by my monetary issues. So I decided that that wasn't going to be the case. It wasn't going to happen. It was deeply liberating.

Who aside from your own bands are the most popular bands, or the best-selling, on Dischord?

Well, Jawbox of course sold quite a few records. Nation of Ulysses sold quite a few records. Dag Nasty sold a lot of people. Rites of Spring sold a lot of records. Shudder To Think did quite well. Lungfish have eleven records, so cumulatively they're doing pretty damn well. I mean, none of their records have been huge sellers, but they do well. Recently, Q And Not U did great. None of the bands come close to Fugazi or Minor Threat in terms of sales. I think probably the best-selling records of the bands that are not by either Fugazi or Minor Threat sold probably about 50 or 60 thousand.

Me and probably most people, when they look back at their teenage years or early twenties or whatever, kinda cringe at certain things they've done or certain ways they've acted but, at least from the outside, you seem to have always had it together. Even in the earliest Minor Threat lyrics, your moral ideas seemed pretty solid, and I was just wondering -- were there things you did either artistically or personally that you look back at and go, "Jeez, I can't believe I did that when I was young"?

Not artistically really. If I have sort of a tender point on that front, it's usually things that I did in the name of humor. Sometimes I'll hear things I did that I thought were very funny at the time that are just not very funny now. And of course in the early days, there was a lot of tension and a lot of misunderstandings, and I think if I looked back, I might think, "Oh, I wish I had been less defensive." I think I was pretty defensive. I was extremely defensive and very territorial in terms of Washington, and very provincial in terms of like DC pride, that sort of thing. And of course there was a lot of violence going on, and I was certainly a fighter in 1981-82. But it seemed at the time to make sense, and I also had developed what I thought was a very ethical code of 'Bruise the ego and not the body.' That was my sort of mandate in terms of violence. But it was a conceit because obviously violence is not containable, and even if I was able to maintain that code, certainly the people around me weren't. And it spilled over into something that was very ugly.

And I think that's one of the reasons that I'm so outspoken about violence. I'm not shying away from my responsibility or my role in that virus. At some point, I was a carrier. I don't think I created it, but I definitely carried it, and it became suffused as at least one component of hardcore punk. And today there are people that will trumpet it in their recollections; you know, people talk about war stories. Especially people who I think are somewhat circumstantial or peripheral players in their connection with the American underground -- often they like to sort of trumpet about the violence and the nihilism. And I feel disappointed because I wish that I had been able to be more prescient in terms of my behavior, and to have not been a contributor to that. I can't say I regret it, because it's brought me to where I am. And at the time, I think I felt pretty clear that it was the right thing to do.

Regret is a tough one for me. I'm not George Bush, and I definitely will admit some mistakes, but I gotta say that I see life as a flight of stairs and every step brings me to where I am. And I'm not a 'phase' person; I don't look back like "Oh, I was that person then, and I'm this person now." I was real since Day One; that's the way I've looked at it. In the American society, there's this idea that you're a teenager or you're a young person, and then at some point you gotta get 'real.' I would submit that we are real, period -- that kids are real, teenagers are real - it's REAL! It's something we should be mindful of and thoughtful about. I don't believe in phases, at least not in my own life.

So to answer your question -- no, I don't really think about it that much. Occasionally, like I was just transferring some tapes the other day, and there was some incidental stuff on the recordings. It was a control room tape of some Fugazi stuff. It was just like the tape running in the control room while we were doing vocals or something, and it's very interesting to hear the process. But I was making these jokes, and I'm like, "Oh, these are terrible jokes!" Because I'm being obnoxious. I mean, I can be obnoxious but I don't really mean to be. I don't want to be cruel. And sometimes I hear myself saying things that, like I know I didn't really mean to be cruel, but if someone else heard it, then it might hurt their feelings. I don't mean to hurt anyone's feelings.

I did also have an interesting experience not so long ago. Mark Andersen, who did the book "Dance Of Days," which is about the DC punk scene -- now I've never read this book, because I decided that I didn't want to read about basically my own history. But I know Mark, and I know Mark Jenkins, the co-writer, and we're friends. In a discussion with Mark Andersen, we were talking about the process of putting that book together, and I knew he had interviewed many, many, many people in the DC underground. And I asked him about cassettes, and he had a crate of maybe 200 or 300 cassettes just sitting in his basement. And I said, "Listen, I'd like to digitize those." Because they're 90-minute interviews, I now have 400 CDs of interviews. It was an enormous project; it's been a year of just knocking these things out. But I've realized what an incredible treasure it is from the point of view of a sociological study or something, to be able to hear that much information and that many observations about a specific music scene or social scene.

I haven't listened to all these things, but I've listened to a handful and it's really interesting to hear. These are interviews largely conducted in the late '80s and very early '90s, and there are some times I'll listen to it and the person will just SAVAGE me! Like say the most really uncharitable things about me. And they're friends of mine! And I think quite often that they're incorrect. They're saying things about my motives, and they're not right about it. But they will say things that are really not nice, and I never think, "Well, fuck that person!" I never get angry. My feelings don't even get hurt. What I think about is "What on Earth was my behavior? How was I behaving that would prompt such an uncharitable outlook about me?" And I'm not mad at the people; it's just interesting. It's just a very interesting thing. I mean, imagine if you came across a box of cassettes where your friends are basically talking about your life together when you were 18. And they might say like, "Yeah well you know, Mark was a fucking greedy shithead." You'd be like "Whoa! Where did that come from!?" You'd think, "What did I do that made them want to say that? Or what was I doing at the time of the interview?"

See, that's the thing. That's the problem with doing histories. Quite often, histories are really skewed because they're retrospective, and the interviews are done with people after the fact. There's a book that I found very enjoyable called "City Of Nets," which is about Hollywood, written by Otto Freidrich. It's a really in-depth fascinating book about the origins of Hollywood, and Freidrich says that in doing the book he decided that to interview people in 1980 about what was going on in 1920 - even for those few who might still be alive, their vision of it would be so affected by the passage of time. Even in this conversation, I'm talking about my past, but obviously I'm, you know - I'm.... 'editing' is not the correct word. I'm 'repositioning' it in a way, because I'm me NOW! So I'm able to talk about it in a different light. So he didn't do any interviews with people. What he did was very intensive research, and he read especially magazines -- just thousands and thousands of magazines from that era, because those interviews were done in real-time! It was Bob Hope as like a 22-year-old talking about his life, or talking about his work, or talking about other people! And that's history. That's the reality of that time. And if you talked to Bob Hope now, Bob Hope might have a different way - well, he's dead now, but if you talked to him back in the '80s, then he would've had a really different outlook. He would've managed it a little differently. Do you follow?

Yeah.

Really interesting! So even in this situation with these interviews, they were five to ten years after the fact. And people - where they were in their lives, what was going on, and where our relationship was, like my relationship with them or their relationship with music - it was really relevant to the tone of their recollections. It's also interesting to discover just how somebody with an agenda can manipulate the past. Because the way people approach histories now, and certainly the way they approach documentaries, is they're hung on basically faux-narratives. They create stories and then they fill in the blanks. But life is not a story. It's just not a story! And in my mind, the DC punk underground -- that scene was not a story. It was an existence.

And don't get me wrong - again, I'm not being critical of the book specifically. It's actually just the notion of histories altogether. And I read histories, so you know - like I recently read a book called "Grit, Noise And Revolution" about the late '60s Detroit scene - the MC5, the Stooges and all that. Very interesting book! Fascinating. But while I was reading it, it's not lost on me that essentially there are probably people who were involved in that scene that are just like, "That book is... That guy missed this and..." So I accept it. I don't think that "Dance Of Days" shouldn't exist; I don't think that at all. What I think is that for my own sanity, I try to avoid reading about that which I've done, because I don't want it to interfere with that which I'm gonna do. How far down the list are we?

Oh, you can stop me any time. I'm just jumping around here. If you have to go....

Does this have anything to do with anything? This interview? Why does he want me interviewed anyway?

Because you're a legend! I wanted to interview you because I've been a fan of yours for so long.

You know, you and I have crossed paths before. And I actually figured it out at some point, but I can't remember what it was. Your name is so familiar, and just recently I realized, "Oh, THAT'S where I know him from!" But I cannot figure out what -- you don't remember ever interviewing me before?

I never interviewed you. I interviewed Guy once.

Oh! Maybe - what was that for?

Umm... maybe my web site? I don't know.

Maybe that's what it was. Just recently I came across your name again, and I was like "THAT'S what it was! There it is."

One thing that keeps showing up for some reason is that I asked Guy about emo, and he said something about "I don't attribute that term; I think it doesn't mean anything. I just thought the bands I was in were punk bands. What, were the Bad Brains robots or something?"

Ha!

That quote is in a lot of places for some reason. Probably because of Wikipedia.

Ah, yeah. Guy's a genius. He's a deeply brilliant man. I love his interviews.

Yeah, he was really nice. Okay, I have plenty of other questions, but I'll -

Well, go ahead. The sand is going to run out momentarily, but -

Okay. A long time ago I sent ten questions to Henry Rollins, and one of them was what was he most proud of, and his answer was his friendship with you.

That's nice of him to say.

Yeah. And I was just wondering if there was any point during that weird period after he joined Black Flag and sort of shut himself off, did he shut himself off from you too?

Yeah.

Really!?

Sure. There were certainly moments where it was tough. It was a hard time! But Black Flag was hard. Things got very dark with them. I remember very clearly a certain point in time where Henry and I had to have a sit-down basically to try to - I really was like, "Something's not right here. This is crazy." It was like we didn't even know each other. He wasn't happy. It was a terrible mindfuck, that band. But I did go on tour with them; I was their roadie in England, which was an absolutely incredible experience. It was good, but it was incredible. You have to remember, I've known Henry since I was 11. So there were even periods of time prior to Black Flag, where - you know, we're friends! And you kinda have moments of like "Alright, well fuck you then!" You know? And at that point in the early '80s, of course Minor Threat was in full throttle, and with Black Flag there was a little bit of -- I wasn't really too aware of it, but I think there was actually some kind of weird competitiveness. It just got very strange. And I was too young to understand the dimensions of it.

I hope someday that somebody will go and do a proper overview of Black Flag, because they were a really fascinating band and probably the most responsible for the spread of American hardcore punk rock and stuff. Those guys toured so hard; their ethic was so insane. They would do these tours where they would go around the country, do 30 or 40 shows, come home, and not even stop - just go back out AGAIN and play all the other cities. They lived out of a bag. They had two bags in their van for clothes: clean clothes and dirty clothes. Nobody had their own clothes; you just wore whatever was in the bag! I mean, you were just "Okay, my clothes are now dirty," put that in the dirty bag, and then you just reach in and get whatever you want out of the clean bag. But also there was really almost Machiavellian stuff going on within the band, I think. It was really very interesting. But it's difficult because you can't really write about the band - well you could, but it just would be bruising, and nobody wants that.

Yeah. That's unfortunate for history.

But they were, God, such an important, amazing and influential band. And one that really had a profound effect on me. They were my favorite band before they were Henry's favorite band. Not that it was a race or a competition, but the point is that I was really passionate about them. I actually made the first contact with them; I called Dukowski up. I called the number at SST and said, "Hey, I'm from Washington DC," and we just talked for two hours. Their first show on the east coast was New York. A bunch of DC people drove up there - maybe 15 or 20 of us. And then they came down to Washington, and they stayed at my parents' house. Imagine coming upstairs and Robo's having pancakes and smoking cigarettes with your mother! That band - they're a deeply important band, certainly for me. But because of the kind of darkness in their history, it's kind of too bad because I think it's affected peoples' ability to -- no one can really talk about them.

Do you think you would've joined them had you been asked?

You know, people ask me that. Henry told me at one point that I was the next person on the list. They had done this sort of talent search. Dez wanted to play guitar; this is the story I was told at least. And they had toured the country and met people and seen people and heard records, and they wanted to go back out and try out a couple of people. They first went to New Orleans; there was a band called The Sluts in New Orleans, and there was a guy named Dee Slut who was the singer, and they practiced with him. And then they came up and practiced with Henry in New York. He went up to New York and practiced with them there, and they decided to go with them. Henry told me that I was the next person on the list. However, I think it's worth noting that I knew nothing about this whatsoever, and I don't know at what point I was going to be tried out. Somehow there'd been some negotiations between him and them, because he knew to go to New York.

And I remember really clearly, I was in Cynthia Connolly's house hanging out and the phone rang, and it was Henry. And Henry and I - we were best friends, but I think at that time there'd been a little bit of guff between us because he was singing for SOA and I was in Minor Threat. Lyle and Brian of Minor Threat went to GDS, which was Georgetown Day School. And Mike Hampton and I think Ivor Hansen or - well, members of SOA basically also went to GDS. They were younger than us and, unbeknownst to me - or Henry, I think - there was a really savage kind of competition going on with them. There was a lot of like smack talking. I was not aware of it, because it was their school. I had graduated high school. I went to Wilson anyway; I wasn't part of that scene. So there was a lot of smack being talked, and I think that Henry and I got kinda caught up in that. Because we were best friends, and yet somebody would say like, "Fuck those guys!" So we were in the middle of a quiet period. I hadn't seen him in a few days or something.

So he called me and he said, "Guess who the new singer for Black Flag is?" And we had heard of course that they were looking for a new singer, because this was always a perpetual thing with Black Flag. Like if you look at old Flipsides, Black Flag was always looking for a singer. And there were always these rumors like "Oh, Mugger's gonna sing!" or "Merrill's gonna sing!" or all these different L.A. luminaries. So I'm trying to guess who this new singer for Black Flag is; I can't guess, and he says, "Me!" And I was completely floored. I couldn't believe it! I mean, it was so bizarre! And then of course it was pretty exciting. And SOA played their last show opening for Black Flag in Philadelphia in June of 1981, or late May. And it was an absolutely chaotic show. There was this huge riot with these locals, and people were sent to the hospital. And Henry came home, got all his crap and brought it over to Dischord House - no, I guess he brought it to my parents' house, because I hadn't even moved to Dischord yet. I was still living at home. He got all of his records and everything he owned and just stuck it all in my parents' house, and then I drove him to the bus station and that was that. He went to Detroit and met up with Black Flag and off he went. But you know, we're probably closer now than we've ever been. We're really dear friends. He's a hero.

I'm not mad at him about Black Flag. Ha!

Have you ever wished for a different voice, or to be able to play other instruments, or anything like that?

A different voice? Yeah, I always wish I could sing better.

Do you listen to the same amount of music as you used to?

Yeah. But not new music. I listen to music every day, but I don't really follow new music that much.

Gotcha. What are you into besides music?

What's that?

What are your other chief interests? I guess history; you were talking about reading -

Mmm, I guess. But I like to talk!

Ha! Do you have more of the interview dates coming up, or is that over?

I'm gonna do some more. I'm gonna do one up in Saratoga Springs at Skidmore. The thing is that it's sorta by invitation. If people like it, I'm gonna do it. But I should try and do more, because I like doing them. They're pretty interesting. Sometimes it gets a little disturbing because it becomes sort of a cult of personality. I'm also keenly aware that, you know, when The Evens play a show, people come to see us, there is money being paid and we're being compensated, and there's an exchange. And what I like to think is being exchanged is the music. When I'm doing Q&A's, I'm also being compensated, but I try to be really aware of the fact that, you know, "What is it that I'm selling at that point? What is on the block?" And the concern of course is that what is on the block is me - my personality. And I'm not too interested in selling that. So I'm trying to strike a balance between the kind of thing where I just lay it all out, talk about everything that ever happened to me and bring in all the personal things that have occurred and all my friends and all these really private things - you'll see this happen a lot with people who get in this position, where they'll start talking at length about these really intense personal things, because it's part of this sort of package. And I try to strike a balance between that and the idea of engaging with people in a sort of conversation and being - maybe 'transparent' is not exactly the right word, but it's something along those lines.

The initial idea of doing the Q&A's sprang from a couple of considerations. One was that in the early 2000s, the United States government was engaging and waging a war against other people in the world, and the media was really lockstep in favor of that and anybody who had access to the media basically seemed to be like, "Yeah, this is the right thing to be doing." I never agreed with that, I never believed that, and I think that there are many people who shared my feelings, but that we by and large were kept out of the mainstream media. This was most evidenced by the oft-repeated dismissal of artists by saying, "Well, what do they know about politics? They're just artists and musicians," and thus rendering our opinion as insignificant. And the first way I would respond is "What did the Bush administration know about politics? They're businessmen. They're not politicians; they were always businessmen." That was their concern.

But in terms of this idea that media was so monopolized by hawks - people who were pro-war - I felt that any opportunity to speak out against war, to speak out against the military crimes that were being waged on other people in this world by our government, I thought it was my responsibility to take it. If I had a stage or if I had a mic, I tried to get up and take a few minutes every night, not to condemn the government and expect that to change things, but rather to publicly declare it, so that people who have sat quietly will not feel alone. Then they'd realize, "Oh wait, there are other people who also agree with that." And I would like to think that the fact that there are enough people like me - writers, speakers and even just everybody - that it eventually did create a momentum and it did put this situation in Iraq into disfavor. There's still a lot more work to be done, but at least I like to think that, to some degree, it was a successful campaign to try to stop this disgusting insanity.

The second aspect of doing the Q&A's was the idea of revealing the ladder -- people who are in the public eye, if you were to imagine them as sort of being in an ascendant position, to be somehow raised. Because if you think about it, if you're in the public eye, then you must be, I guess, a little bit higher. Because if you're in a giant crowd and you're visible, then you must be elevated in some way. I think that many people who are in elevated positions would like other people to think that somehow they were either born there or that God delivered them there or that that's just part of who they were. Whereas I see that, if I am in that kind of elevated position, I clearly see it as a result of work. And I thought that for most people when they come to talk, if they have questions, what they're really interested in is how things work.

So for instance when you asked me about being judgmental, I went on at length about the machinations. I told you how things work! You see? And that was the idea - to talk about how things work, and let people know that there was actual thinking and rationale. It's not a gift from the Heavens; it wasn't like "Oh, I'm just that way! I'm a genius." I don't think of myself as a genius. I think of myself as a person. I just do the work, and I think about stuff. So I just thought it would be engaging to let people ask me any question they wanted, and it has been. I mean, there's a surplus of straight edge questions, but that's okay. I don't mind responding. I don't back away or back down from anything, and I stand behind every lyric I've ever written, so I don't mind talking about it -- to a degree. At some point, it seems like "Let's cover some other ground, for God's sake."

Ha! Yeah, I was watching one of them online a couple of months ago, and one of the kids asked you about The Obsessed or somebody?

Uh-huh, yeah.

Yeah, that was kinda cool. He asked you about Wino.

Yeah, I just saw The Wino Band about two weeks ago - his new band. It was fantastic!

He has a new band?

Yeah, he's playing guitar, and he's playing with Jean-Paul from the band Clutch and Jon Blank from a band called Rezin. It's just called 'The Wino Band.' I guess he's doing Obsessed songs, Spirit Caravan songs, he has a few new jams, and it was really a great nght. He's a super-hero.

Nice. Okay, I'll let you go now. You've given an hour and a half.

Alright, well I imagine you can cobble something together from all this.

Oh, of course I can.

Thanks for the good questions. You made me do some thinking; I appreciate that. You got me all fired up. Brendan will be here in a few minutes to pick up some stuff, and then I gotta start writing checks. So I'm ready. I'm ready to do it.

Have you had time to write any songs? I know you've been -

NO! Ha!

Yeah, I didn't think so.

That part is not, at the moment -- I mean, it's not merely being a Dad, although I gotta say that you're never bored, so the time spent with the boy is so incredible. Obviously, that has had an effect on my time, but the last year of Dischord has been very, very intense. We've just gone through an enormous shift in our operations. We'd partnered with this company Southern Studios for 25 years, and last year they shut down their Chicago office, so we've taken over all the production ourselves and rearranged everything. That's sorta the trouble with getting the royalties together this time; we've had to remap all the accounting and we just got the tax stuff done.

I'm also in the midst of a huge archive project, basically going through all of my collection and doing a database for all this stuff. In fact, in terms of Fugazi, we have a database and we're already over 1500 pieces for audio and visual-like things -- including 900 live recordings.

GOD!

Ha! I mean, I've only lived in three houses my whole life. I lived in my parents' house, I lived in Dischord House, and now I'm living with Amy and Carmine in town. I'm at Dischord House right now! And my parents' house on Beecher Street is still - my Dad still lives there. My Mom died a few years ago, but my Dad still lives there. So I still have all my fanzines that I never got rid of in the early '80s. Because I didn't need to get rid of it; I never had to deal with it. So now I'm trying to get the collection organized to create a living archive, and I imagine at some point I may well give a goodly amount of it to a Collection or something. I'd like it to be used; I don't want to keep it to myself, but I'm also trying to come up with a really creative way to address making it really accessible. I don't want it to be an academic sort of thing; I want it to be open to all people. I want it to be open to people like me, and I'm not an academic.

So how much room does all this take up?

I don't know. A fair amount. I'm not a mess, at all. I'm not messy, but I also don't have time to sit down and label everything. So I have basically boxes where like, "Okay, in this box I have 10,000 photographs" or something. One of these days, I'll sit down and get these things organized. But I'm finally now starting to get to that process, because I'm working with an Archival Arts grad student and he's all over that. And this process also involves digitizing and basically trying to transfer -- probably half of the live recordings are on DAT tapes, which is a terrible format. So we're having to transfer all of those to a different format, because if we don't, they'll be lost.

I remember when DAT was the wave of the future! What happened to DAT?

Exactly. That's right. Remember, the cutting edge of technology is a very dangerous place to be. That's why I've never been cutting edge. I always let the people decide; once they decide, "Alright, this is what we're gonna use," alright then I'll use it. That's why it took us years to get a digital download thing. It took us years to get a CD out! Because we're not on the cutting edge; we're always waiting for the people to decide for themselves, and then if they decide that's what they really want, then we make it available. DATs were extremely pragmatic at the time. They were small, you could get up to 180 minutes on them, the quality was decent, but nobody had any idea how short-lived they would be. Terribly short-lived. They're falling apart already.

But here's the other thing, then I'll probably jump off. I do try to take care of this stuff and it is important to me but also, as a caveat, I always keep in mind that it really is nothing. If all this stuff were to disappear, it would be okay. I'm not made up by this stuff. I have this sort of "I care... but I don't give a fuck." I'm trying to do right, because I think that somebody else would enjoy that and it'd be good, so I'm trying to look after the stuff. But it's not my sole purpose in life. I'm enjoying it though! It's interesting. It's given me the opportunity to revisit a lot of stuff and think about it, which will help me talk about things. Always learning.

Excellent.

Good luck transcribing!

Hey, I'll have fun.

He's gonna put us on like a fucking half-page.

Ha!

Let's do a book. Fuck that guy! Fuck him and his.... Nah, he's nice. Okay, I'll talk to you again.

Okay, thanks!

Take care.

Bye.

#ian mackaye #fugazi

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mollyshaj · 6 years

Text

17.

Ebony

“Oh my God,” I smiled looking at one of the pictures that came back from my first photo shoot. Here I was in Veronica’s office for a meeting and she pulled some of my pictures up. I was wearing a brown one piece bathing suit. I almost didn’t recognize myself; I know I’m far from ugly but I felt like I was looking at a different person.

“I told you; you killed it.” Veronica said with a smile on her face.

“So now what?”

“Well the swim suit you were wearing is from a small online boutique. They love the pictures and they’re going to use them. You my dear are going to be getting paid and getting some exposure. I’m going to send your head shots to some more clothing lines and designers. I do need you to come out with me tonight.”

“Go out where?”

“It’s a big party in New York at Club Royalty and they’re requesting some lovely models to attend. You are one of them.”

“Okay, so I go out and do what? What does somebody buying out the bar have to do with models?”

“It’s a big party, a very important party that a lot of heavy hitters are going to be at. I’m not talking about simple guys like rappers or some shit, these are business men. Business men that love to have beautiful women promoting their brands. This is a good opportunity to meet the right people, and you need to start networking.”

“Okay,” I nodded letting her know I understood what she meant. “So what do I wear?”

“It’s a celebration so you need to be dressed in your best. Not a ball gown formal type of thing but I think you get what I mean. Wear whatever you want but keep in mind that a lot of eyes are going to be on you. It’s up to you to figure out what kind of image you want to put out there.There is a really big difference between selling confidence and selling sex. If you don’t want people requesting you to have your ass out, I would advise you to not come there with your ass out.”

“I get what you mean,”

“Good, I’ll have a car come to your house at 10:30.”

“Alright, well I’ll see you later. I have to go get this head of mine correct.”

“Okay, see you later.” I grabbed my purse then walked out of the office. When I got to the elevator I looked to my left and saw Kaylin’s assistant standing there. He must’ve felt me looking at him because he turned my way with a smile.

“Hi, Ebony right?” He smirked.

“Yeah, how are you?”

“I’m good, just tired.” The elevator opened and we both got on. When the doors closed he glanced at me.

“I’m not trying to get too personal and please don’t say anything so I won’t lose my job; what exactly happened between you and Mr. King?”

“What makes you think something happened?”

“Mr. King hasn’t been in the office for more than a few hours once every couple of months, in years. After that time you’ve came and since you’ve been coming to meet with Veronica he’s been here every day…all day.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah; I’ve been working for him for a few years now and I’ve never seen him so pressed about anybody.”

"Wow, i don’t know what to say to that.”

“I don’t mean to throw you off and I hope you’re not going to be scared of him; I just think you should know that you’re not just somebody random. He’s not going to forget about you next week, you’re something to him because he’s acting way out of character.”

“Alright well thank you for telling me. I won’t snitch on you, but I heard everything you said.” I gave him a smile before the doors opened to his floor and he walked off.

Hearing that Kaylin was pretty much working his schedule around me didn’t freak me out at all. I was a little flattered actually; too bad I’m not going there with him. I just had to put hands on his baby mama the last time I saw him, I’m cool on that.

After leaving King Enterprises I drove to the hair salon then I went to Jas’s house so I could pick Jayden up. Since he’s on summer vacation it’s moving around and doing what I need to do is easier because Jas really isn’t doing too much either. She works from her house most of them time.

I sent a text to my mother letting her know I needed her to watch Jayden tonight and she acted stank at first but she said yes.

My plan was to pick Jayden up after getting my hair done, go to the movies and have dinner with him before we go home for the night. I try to spend as much time with Jayden as possible; I don’t know what Veronica has planned for me exactly but she’s already let me know that I will be busy a lot and even flying out for business. I don’t want my son to think I’m missing in action so I was going to make sure we got our time in together.

***

“If I didn’t bless you with one hell of a body.” My mother boasted when she came in my bedroom.

“Give yourself all the props right? I have nothing to do with this,” I laughed.

“Nope, who do you think you look like? Not your big head ass daddy, that’s for sure.” She took a seat on my bed rolling her eyes.

“Ma, are you okay?” Since my father’s been up here she’s been acting a little off, it’s like she’s always irritated or angry now. Knowing them they’re probably fucking around and he still has yet to drop Yesenia’s annoying ass. “You and dad are good right?”

“I’m fine; your dad just irks my nerves sometimes. It’s nothing for you to worry yourself about, it’s between me and him. You go out tonight and do what you have to do.”

“Okay,” I didn’t believe her but she was right about it being between them. I don’t feel like being in the middle of my parents. I’m leaving it alone.

“How do I look? I’m not trying to give off I sell pussy vibes.”

“You don’t, it’s very sexy but tasteful at the same time. I like it; I’m your mama you know I would tell you.”

“Good, thank you ma.”

“You’re welcome,” She got up and kissed my cheek then walked out.

Just as I was going to grab my phone it buzzed, notifying me of a text message.

Veronica: The car is outside. See you when you get here. Enjoy!

I put my phone in my purse, grabbed my keys then left out. When I opened my front door and walked outside I got confused as hell when I saw Kaylin leaning on the hood of a black Lamborghini. To say I was thrown off is an understatement. What the hell is he doing here and why is he driving a Lambo in New Jersey? That’s some LA, Miami type of shit.

“Um, Kaylin what are you doing here?” I asked when I got close enough to him.

“I’m your ride to the party.”

“You’re going to the party too? What happened to you not interfering in my business?”

“I’m not interfering in your business. This is a King Enterprises party.”

“Are you lying?”

“Nope,” he smiled. “Come on,” I walked to the passenger side and he opened the door for me. Once I was in and settled, he got in then pulled off soon after.

A good ten minutes of silence went by before I couldn’t take it anymore. “Kaylin what the hell is this about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you picking me up, Veronica not telling me this was basically your party and the fact that you’re doing all of this when you have a baby on the way. Let’s not forget I had to beat her ass the last time I was around you.”

“Alright well, I wanted to pick you up so I did arrange for that. Veronica not telling you has nothing to do with me, I didn’t tell her not to say anything about what the party was for. Brandi,” he let out a dark chuckle. “She’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“What does that mean? If she’s having a baby by you then she’s a problem.”

“She’s not having a baby,”

“What?”

He glanced my way before giving the road his attention again. “That bitch isn’t pregnant.”

“What the fuck? How do you know that? Did she lose it or something?” Now I was worried, I don’t like the bitch but I wasn’t trying to be the cause of a damn miscarriage.

“No, she was never pregnant. The bitch was lying the whole time.” I could see his grip on the staring wheel get tighter while his jaw clenched. I didn’t want him upset but God damn if he wasn’t fine as shit right now.

“Wait, what? How do you know that?”

“I called the doctor she’s been supposedly going to so I could find out her next appointment date, they didn’t even know who the fuck she was.The pregnancy test I watched her take was a fake, the sonograms she’s been showing me are fake,” he shook his head. “That bitch has been lying to me this whole time.”

“Wow. That’s fucked up.No offense but how did you not catch on to her lying? You never went with her to a doctor’s appointment or anything?”

“I should’ve, i said I was going to and never even did the shit. Once you weren’t fucking with me I just said fuck it.”

“Okay that was stupid.”

“Tell me about it.”

“You didn’t notice lack of weight being gained nothing?”

“Eb in order for me to realize that shit, I would have to pay attention to her ass and I try not to do that. if it wasn’t about Angelic I never really gave a fuck about what she talks about.”

“Seems to me like she used that to her advantage.I’m not telling you that you need to be the one to do it but she needs her ass beat, that’s some messed up shit.”

“I’m not worried about it right now; I know the truth that’s all that matters. I got something for her ass coming anyway.”

I nodded and was about to open my mouth to ask him something super personal but I didn’t want to overstep my bounds so I just shut my mouth.

“What?” He asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“You were about to say something? I saw you open your mouth then shut it real quick, what?”

“Nothing,” I shook my head quickly.

“Eb don’t do that; if you have something to say then do say it. I’m not going to get mad.”

“No you will get mad at what I was about to say and I don’t need you crashing this car. I don’t feel like dying today. ”

“Killing you would mean probably killing myself too and it aint never that deep for me; just say it Ebony,”

“Alright;” I took a deep breath “Are you sure Angelic is your daughter?”

“What?” He looked at me like I was stupid swerving in the process.

“See what the fuck I’m talking about, you’re in this fast ass car you better watch the damn road.”

“My bad.” He regained his composure. Thank God there wasn’t any cops around to see him swerve like that. A black man in an expensive car, driving erratically sounds like the set up to a hashtag and I don’t feel like dealing with that right now.

“You good?”

“Yeah I’m fine, why would you ask that? You don’t think she’s mine?”

“I asked because her mother is very questionable at this point. It’s one thing to lie and say you’re pregnant, that’s crazy in itself but getting a fake test, fake sonograms and anything else she was doing takes that shit to another level. If she’s willing to do that why wouldn’t she lie about something like a baby being yours? I’m not telling you to do a DNA test but, I’m just saying.”

Honestly I’ve been low key questioning Angelic’s paternity since the day he showed me pictures of her. She looks nothing like him; that’s not saying a lot because a lot of daughters take after their mother but that little girl doesn’t look like Brandi either.

Kaylin, his mama and his sister are all light bright, Brandi is brown skin but she isn’t that dark. Angelic is damn near my complexion; I know Black comes in all kinds of shades no matter the complexion of the parents and DNA sometimes but my common sense tells me she isn’t his baby.

I wasn’t going to say anything because it isn’t my place and that’s not an easy conversation to have with somebody. No man wants to hear that the child they’ve raised and grown to love for years doesn’t belong to them.

When he didn’t say anything I sighed. “Forget I said that, it wasn’t my place.” He glanced my way then put his eyes back on the road. From the look on his face he was thinking about what I said and he wasn’t happy with the thoughts running through his mind.

“You’re good, don’t worry about it.” He said his voice slightly above a mumble.

“Can I turn the radio on?” I asked him. I wanted to break this tension and the silence wasn’t helping. He reached over and turned it on. Kanye West’s song Mercy came through the speakers and I was grateful I didn’t have to sit in that awkward silence anymore.

A few minutes went by before I felt him grab my hand and hold on to it. Part of me was telling me to snatch away but I just let it ride. What’s the point in doing that right now? I probably have this man questioning the daughter he’s raised for six years, the hand. The least I could do is let him hold my hand.

“Have I told you how good you look?” He asked, finally breaking the silence between us.

“No, but I guess that’s your version of saying it so thank you.” I chuckled.

“Nice outfit, I like the way you put that together.”

“Well you bought it so thank you again.”

When Kaylin took me shopping before his cousin’s birthday party some months back, I racked up. The man said I didn’t have a limit so I got as much as he let me; 95% of it was designer and expensive as hell. Jayden and I weren’t shopping at Good will we were doing well as far as clothes but we weren’t covered in labels. I’m grateful for what Kaylin did because I damn sure couldn’t afford the things he got me that day. I wasn’t going to be shy about wearing it either.

“You’re welcome Hersh.”

“I’m Hersh again?”

“That’s really up to you.”

A smile wanted to break out on my face but I hid that shit. “We’ll talk about that another time.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He smirked then lodged his bottom lip between his teeth. Shaking my head I turn my attention to the window. I’m not even about to do this shit with him.

When we finally pulled up to the club it was like mayhem outside. The line to get in was damn near around the block and it looked as if the people who couldn’t get in started their own party out here.

“What is this for?” I asked Kaylin.

“Celebration, we’ve been in business for 20 years and we do it pretty big for things like this. Plus, I figured why not the grand opening and our anniversary party, at the same time. Kill two birds with one stone.

“So this club is new? You just opened a new damn club?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugged then hopped out of the car. He walked around then came over to my side opening the mine and helping me out.

“You’re going to leave your car, right here?” I asked him.

“Nah,” he handed his keys to one of the guys standing out front and they went over and hopped in. “Come on,”

Grabbing my hand he led me inside of the club. There were two floors and it was packed like crazy. We went over to what I assumed was the VIP section. The first person I saw was Veronica who got up and came over to me as soon as we walked up.

“You look great,” She complimented me.

“Thank you; why didn’t you tell me this was Kaylin’s party?”

“It’s not Kaylin’s party, it’s the companies but I didn’t think it was important. I do need to introduce you to some people so,” She tapped Kay’s hand so he let me go. “Thank you, come on Ebony.” Veronica pulled me away and brought me over to another VIP table.

For about two hours Veronica introduced me to so many people I couldn’t even remember all of their names. She’s serious about her business and she damn sure knows a lot of people. If all of these connections can turn into a check for me, it’ll all be worth it.

“You can mingle on your own now, just have a good time and be mindful of the impression you leave on people.”

“Alright I got you,” I told her before walking off to find Kaylin since he was the only person I knew like that.

“Ebony!” Hearing my name being shouted I turned around and saw Alex waving at me. I waved back then he motioned for me to come over to him. I didn’t have shit else to do really so I went over.

“Hi, are you sitting over here alone?”

“Yeah pretty much, I just got here.” He answered me. I sat next to him then waved one of the waitresses over. I had yet to even have a drink and I needed one to make it through this damn party.

Before I could even say what I wanted she put her hand up then smiled. “Mr. King has already told everybody anything you want is on him tonight so you can order whatever you like.”

I looked at Alex who shrugged his shoulders. I turned to the waitress with a smile. “Okay well can we get a bottle of Cîroc, ice and all that good stuff please.”

“You sure can, I’ll be right back.” She walked off then I looked at Alex again.

“I told you he likes you, he doesn’t do that often.”

“I know,” I chuckled.

Kaylin isn’t a stingy individual and he has more than enough to share but I do notice that he doesn’t spend money on stupid shit. When it comes to me though he acts like money isn’t an object. If I let him have it his way he would’ve had me moved out of my apartment into a bigger space with a new car two weeks into us hanging out. It can be annoying because I don’t need him to lead with his money but I’m not going to complain about it either. If he wants to let me get bottles on top of bottles at his expense then fuck it.

The waitress bought the bottle to the table and I sat there with Alex for a good minute drinking, talking and laughing. For some reason I thought he was going to be a stiff but he’s cool as hell and had me cracking up.

“Rashad’s girlfriend is so pretty,” Alex said randomly.

“Who?” I asked, thinking I heard him wrong.

“Rashad Carter, Kaylin’s friend. He comes by the office sometimes. He bought his girlfriend there the other day and she is so damn beautiful, a tall milk chocolate goddess.”

“She’s thick as hell?”

“Yasss, her body is everything. Do you know her?”

“Yeah she’s one of my best friends.”

“Well there she is,” he pointed across the section and there was Nicole sitting next to Rashad looking through her phone while he talked to Kaylin. My girl looked bored as hell and I know it’s because she doesn’t know anybody. I pulled my phone out and sent her a text message.

I’m guessing she received it because she looked up, looked around then her eyes landed on me. She tapped Rashad telling him something before getting up and coming over to me.

“I didn’t know you were here. Kaylin didn’t even say anything.” Nicole said when she sat down.

“This is the event Veronica had for me; I didn’t know it was his party.” I told her.

“Okay, well I’m glad you’re here because I was bored as shit.”

“I probably would be too if it wasn’t for this one.” I pointed to Alex. “This is Alex, Alex is this Nicole.”

“Hi, you are fucking gorgeous.” He told her and she laughed.

“Thank you,” Nicole got a drink then fell right into the conversation like she’s been sitting there the entire time.

“That’s my shit! Come on,” Nicole shouted out of nowhere grabbing my arm just because they threw on an old ass Big Sean and Nicki Minaj record.

“Girl, you go down there and dance. I don’t feel like it.”

“If you don’t bring your ass down to this dance floor I will hurt you.” She grabbed me again successfully pulling me up from my seat.

“Alright damn, you get on my nerves.” We went down to the dance floor and despite my complaining right before; I was having a damn good time on the dance floor.

Kaylin

“I see you staring at shorty; you better go at that before some other nigga does.” Rashad said after he walked up to me.

“Every nigga in this muthafucka saw her walk in with me, if they wanna stay in one piece they better back the fuck up.”

“So you’re about to cock block basically. She’s not even about to go there with you? You forget she had to whoop Brandi’s ass not too long ago?”

“Brandi isn't even a factor. Fuck that bitch.” I griped, taking a swing from the Henny bottle in my hand.

“I wanna know what the energy is about but not right now. Fuck it, and fuck what you're doing I’m going to get mine.” He patted my shoulder then walked down to the dance floor to get Nicole.

When Nicole and Rashad walked off Ebony was right behind them.

Bottle in hand I walked over to the entrance of the section grabbing Ebony’s hand. She looked at me confused but I motioned for her to follow me.

I led her up to the office closing the door after we both walked in.

“This is nice. This whole club is really nice Kaylin, good job.”

“Thank you.” I smiled.

“You're welcome,” she smiled back. “So why did you bring me up here?”

“I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.” I leaned on my desk facing her.

“This is a business night Kay,”

“Man fuck all that, I wanna discuss this shit now.”

“Discuss what? Big bird lying about being pregnant doesn't mean anything. That bitch is still in the picture. If she's willing to lie about being pregnant she's crazy enough to do some other shit too. I don't need the damn drama.”

“It's not going to be any drama, I promise you that.”

“How? She's the mother of your child she isn't going anywhere.”

“Might be, that's what you said earlier right?”

“Kaylin, that wasn't for you to take serious.”

“What made you say it?” Honestly I haven't been able to get what Ebony said out of my mind.

I never questioned Angelic’s paternity; I never believed I had a reason too. No she wasn't my complexion but she had dimples just like me and Kai. Brandi grew up in foster care so who knows what's in her genetic background. Ebony bringing that up really fucked me up because she isn't the type to say something like that for no reason.

“That doesn't even matter. Don't question the daughter you've raised for six years just because of some shit I said.”

“You wouldn't say some shit like that for no reason.”

“So?”

“So tell me why you said it.”

“Alright fine, she's a beautiful little girl but she doesn't look like you. She doesn't look like her mother either, she could look like that side of her family but I don't see you in her at all. I could be wrong and if I am then I’m sorry.”

I eyed her for a good minute before giving her a allow nod.

“It's cool, you don't have to apologize for saying how you feel. Fuck that though, Brandi will not be an issue.”

“How do I know that?”

“Have I lied to you?”

“Not that I know of but it’s not like you're upfront and 100% honest either.”

“I’m being honest.” Grabbing her hand I pulled her towards me so that she was standing between my legs. “Brandi is a non-issue. Don't act like I was still fucking shorty.”

“When is the last time you did?”

“Before I started coming to your apartment. Speaking of that when did you move and why you aint tell me?”

“A few weeks ago and you weren't my favorite person so I just didn't. Back to you, and your psycho baby mama.”

“Chill, she's nothing for you to worry about.”

“How do I know you're telling the truth Kaylin? You said that before and the bitch made up this pregnancy shit, not a damn thing got handled.”

“She got that stupid shit off but my eyes are really opened to what kind of bitch I'm dealing with. She will not be a problem Ebony.”

“I’ll tell you what, you handle it first then get back to me.”

“You dead ass?”

“Yes nigga I’m dead ass seri-” Standing up straight I pressed my lips against hers while my arms went around her waist, cutting her off mid-sentence.

I half way expected her to push me off but she didn't. When her arms found their way around my neck I used that as my chance to deepen the kiss, sliding my tongue into her mouth.

Before I knew it we were in a full blown make out session. My hands were gripping her ass in the thin ass wrap skirt she was wearing and just when I was to go up under that muthafucka. somebody started knocking on my door.

“Fuck,” I mumbled under my breath after our kiss broke.

“Go answer the door,” she wiped my lips using her thumb then backed away from me straightening out her clothes.

“Man fuck that door, they can wait.” I grabbed her waist again making her laugh.

The door opened and Don walked in.

“I don't mean to interrupt nigga but we about to wrap this shit up so come say what you need to.” he said before looking at Ebony then back at me smirking

I could tell he was about to get in my damn business later just by the way his big head was smiling.

“Alright man I’ll be down there in a minute.” He walked out closing the door behind him.

“We need to get back down there so you can handle your business.”

“Give me another kiss first,”

“Hell no,”

“Why not?”

“Kaylin it will be more than a kiss, shit if your cousin didn’t come in here it was going down in this bitch and I don’t need that right now.”

“Man, you gotta stop playing with me.”

“Nobody is playing with you. Handle what you gotta handle and you can have whatever you want from me. Until then I don’t have anything for you bruh.”

“Remember that came out your mouth.”

“I’m not the one that needs to remember, you are.” She smirked walking out then office.

I chuckled before straightening out my clothes making sure I was good. Ebony probably thought I was going to play with her ass but I’m not. This shit with Brandi is about to be a rap so she better get ready for me.

***

“Daddy, why did we go to the doctor’s? I’m not sick,” Angelic asked from the back seat.

“I know but you needed a checkup. Don’t tell your mother about it either, you got me?” I looked in the rearview mirror at her.

“Yeah,” she nodded.

We just left my family’s doctor’s office so he could do a DNA test for me. He told me it takes two days so I’ll be finding the truth out about Angelic in 48 hours. My nerves were on edge because if she’s not mine I really don’t know how I’m going to react.

My instincts wants me to kill Brandi’s ass but then Angelic would be parentless and that’s not what I want either. Whether or not I’m still going to be in her life is up in the air too. My heart says keep being there for her, but if she’s not my child I don’t know if I’ll be able to wrap my mind around that shit. I’ll never let her go without but it won’t be the same.

“I’m about to take you to your grandma’s house okay,”

“Okay, when am I going back with mommy?”

“Later on, I’ll come back to get you.” I drove to my mother’s house and Angelic jumped out the backseat when she saw my mom standing at her front door.

When Angelic was with her, I honked my horn then pulled off driving back to my house. The whole drive there I was thinking on how this shit was about to go. Even though I don’t have the results of Angelic’s paternity I was still putting Brandi out my damn house. I don’t give a damn whose mother she is; I would be a fool to keep this bitch around living in my shit after the bullshit she caused.

“Brandi!” I shouted for her when I walked in the house. Seconds later she came downstairs.

“Why are you yelling and where is Angelic?”

“Don’t worry about that, sit down.” I pointed to the couch and she sat down. I opened the end table drawer and pulled a pregnancy test out. “Take that shit,” I tossed it on her lap.

“What the fuck? You saw me take a damn test already.” Brandi responded.

“Well take another one.”

“Fuck outta here Kaylin, I’m not taking a damn thing.”

“Why?”

“I already took one; I’m not taking another one.”

“Nah that’s not the reason, you just don’t want me to know your ass isn’t pregnant.”

“What?” She looked at me confused.

“You heard what the fuck I said, your stupid ass isn’t even pregnant.”

“How did you find that out?”

“I have my ways,”

“Did your ways tell you it’s because of your flunky ass bitch? Her kicking me in my damn stomach made me lose it.” She lied with a straight face.

“What?”

“You heard what the fuck I said. That bitch made me have a miscarriage.”

“Yo,” I shook my head and started laughing.

“You find that shit funny Kaylin? That ho killed your baby and you’re sitting here laughing.”

“You damn right I’m laughing, you really are crazy as shit. You’re sitting in my face telling me you had a miscarriage when you were never pregnant. Ebony didn’t kill shit, there was never a baby.”

“Yes there was! I showed you everything!”

“You showed me some bullshit is what you did! I called your doctor’s office, they didn’t even know who the fuck you were. Now you sitting here lying about losing a damn baby like that’s something to make up. You gotta go, pack your shit and get the fuck out.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard what the fuck I said, pack this shit up and get the fuck out.”

“How are you going to put me and your daughter out?”

“I’m not putting Angelic out of a damn thing, you have to go though. I don’t give a fuck where but you getting the fuck outta here,”

“No I’m not Kaylin, I’m not leaving.”

“Word? Aight,” I went upstairs to the closet and started pulling all of her shit down off the hangers.

“Stop Kaylin! What’s wrong with you?” She pushed me. I turned around and grabbed her by the neck.

“The last thing you wanna do is put your fuckin’ hands on me right now! You lied about being pregnant this whole fuckin’ time then got the nerve to try and lie about a fuckin’ miscarriage!” I let her go throwing her back with enough force that she fell back on her ass crying and shit. I don’t give a damn about those tears, she can cry until all the liquid leaves her body for all I give a fuck. “GET YOUR SHIT AND GET THE FUCK OUT!”

“Where am I supposed to go?” She asked through her tears.

“I don’t give a fuck where you go but you’re getting the fuck out of here. Pack all this shit up and walk out or this shit can get thrown out right along with you. Pick one.”

She got up off the floor and gathered some of her clothes putting them in bags while I watched her. After she gathered enough I followed her downstairs to the front door.

“Keys,” I held my hand out for the house keys and she dropped them in my hand. “The only reason you’re keeping that car is because you need it to get the fuck away from me. Be grateful for that.”

“What about Angelic?” She looked at me with tear filled eyes.

“Don’t worry about her; I’ll drop her off at Sade’s house.” She went to say something else but I slammed the door in her face then locked it. “Stupid bitch.”

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