#//also tossing in a design for the one customization he's ever had prior to getting rejuvenated

[powderedshards]

//breaking hiatus on here just to slap these on here and leave

[nobodyfamousposts]

Chloe's Lament Part 2

Next part of Chloe's Lament. Chloe begins to learn of the changes to reality from her Wish.

She will not be happy about this.

____________________

When Chloe woke up, the first thing that struck her was the loud banging sounds from somewhere below her.

The second thing was pain.

“I have a headache!” She called out, laying an arm over her sleep mask-covered eyes. Her butler would hear her and respond accordingly, of course. He always did.

“And get them to stop that racket down there!” She flopped on her bed with a huff, waiting for the help to return with aid.

Really, the things she dealt with!

Normally, her butler would arrive immediately, with painkillers and fruit-infused water being presented to her within a minute.

But to her growing frustration, that minute came and passed.

Then two.

Three…

Not that Chloe was counting.

Eventually, it had been five minutes and there was still no word from the man. And to make matters worse, that damn banging from below was only getting louder and increasing her suffering.

“Ugh! Do I have to do everything myself?!”

She ripped off the sleep mask, only to wince at the level of brightness in the room. She was on the top floor with the best visibility but the windows were supposed to be tinted and covered to prevent this very thing!

Once her vision cleared, several things should have stood out as odd.

But the first thing to attract her notice was the sleep mask she had just removed—some cheapo dime-store brand. She tossed the rag away with a shriek.

“Is this a prank?!” She demanded. “That is not my personalized diamond-studded satin custom made facial mask! Jean? Jean!”

There was a ruckus from below. The sound of something being dropped. Footsteps—loud and fast and getting closer. Then the opening of a door.

“Precious! Is everything okay?”

She sneered at the sound of her father’s voice.

“No! My sleep mask was stolen, it’s too bright, my head is KILLING me and no one is getting me anything to help!”

He looked confused at that. “Are you out of Efferalgan in your bathroom cabinet?”

She gave him a look. Why would she have to get up and go to the bathroom for some painkillers when there should be someone to hand them to her?

He gave her a strange look in response. Like he was confused his daughter would expect someone to do something as simple as bringing her painkillers and water.

And water.

Preferably cherry-infused.

Was that really so much to ask? Or even require asking?

“Just…hang on a moment.” He said and left her her bathroom.

Finally.

With nothing to do but wait, she glanced around, noting that…this was not her room.

Not the one she knew, anyway.

The light that had blinded her before was from a central window overlooking the room that so obtrusively settled on her bed. In addition, there was a skylight placed above a nook set behind her bed, which brought more light into the room.

She vaguely recognized the room. Well, by its floor plan, at least. The layout and decor threw her off though. The furniture and items were clearly cheaper than her usual high end designer brands. But she saw aspects that were suited to her tastes. Minute indications of her own touch in the assortment of objects around her. Yellow and white as the themes. Black cushions and aesthetic.

It was…decent. But so beneath her it was embarrassing! These were cheap models! Practically plastic! The bedsheets were…ugh…cotton of all things! The lamps were dim! She was missing her boudoir! And her shoes! And her jewelry! She didn’t even want to imagine the nightmare that was her closet—it was practically a hole in the wall! There was no way it would fit everything!

“Here you are, dear!” Her father said, returning from her bathroom with a glass of water and a pill in hand.

She fought the grimace.

Was this tap water?

Gross!

By his expectant look, he clearly meant for her to drink it.

With her continuing headache and no better option for fast relief, Chloe reluctantly took the proffered items. She was unable to help the slightest grimace before she downed them both.

“Well, if that’s all, I’ll be getting back to setting up for the morning rush. Come downstairs to the bakery when you’re ready.” He looked almost relieved to be leaving.

Chloe barely took notice now that she had what she needed. Instead, she took to contemplating her situation and her new surroundings.

All the furniture aside, this room looked familiar. Not really well known, because Chloe was sure she had never been in such a place before. But…like she had seen it somewhere…TV maybe?

And her Daddykins was here. That meant…wherever she was, it was apparently expected for her to be here.

But where was here?

The last thing she remembered was…

She closed her eyes, straining to think past the pain.

That’s right! Hawk Moth’s offer! The Bee! She was Miracle Queen! And she had just won! She had Ladybug beaten…

Her fists clenched.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng…

It hit her.

This was just like her room!

She had only seen it a couple of times. Once for sure when Sabrina had snuck into her room per Chloe‘s instructions for blackmail material. She happened to glimpse a picture of the room here or there from other people’s phones of times that they had spent in this room—that she had really cared. It was a small and dingy room that had nothing on her glamorous abode at the hotel, which of course, was superior in every way.

She was vaguely reminded of that one show that Marinette hadn’t stopped talking about which had also apparently shown Marinette‘s room, but Chloe honestly hadn’t been bothered enough to watch it, so she didn’t have that to go on. But with what she did know, it was a safe bet to assume that this was some knockoff of Marinette‘s room.

So why was Chloe here? Why was her dad downstairs?

She… she had made the Wish, hadn’t she?

…

…

…

What…is this it?

She turned up her nose at the environment around her, completely unimpressed.

Was this dinky little room with its weird setup and tacky decor what the Wish gave her? Why would she be in any copy of Dupain-Cheng’s room layout anyway?

The Wish should have changed reality, that much was clear. There was no way she would be caught dead in Dupain-Cheng’s room otherwise—much less sleeping there like it was her own room!

…unless…it was her room?

Was it?

She had found some aspects of the room to her taste, but did that mean this was hers?

It would explain why she was there. And why her Daddy had come up. He had mentioned her bathroom earlier, then had gone through the nearby door to get a tablet and water from what she could only assume was the bathroom he had spoken of.

…he had mentioned a bakery.

Eyes wide, she stumbled out of bed and to the window. Sure enough, the school was just across the way. And there was a sign out front.

“Bourgeois Bakery”

Chloe stared.

Suddenly, it clicked. The banging from downstairs. Her Daddy talking about a ‘morning rush’. And to come down to the…

…no way!

This place was a bakery! Her Daddy was operating a bakery!

And given her location, it was the same bakery that Marinette’s parents owned originally!

This…

…wait…

…did this mean she was supposed to be Marinette?

She threw her pillow in a fury.

Stupid Wish! This wasn’t at all what she wanted!

You would think all-powerful Wish-granting artifacts would do it right!

“Where are those kwamis?!” She demanded, jumping out of the bed and looking around for anywhere she would keep such important jewels. “I’m going to give them a piece of my mind!”

She had a boudoir along with the various jewelry pieces kept there ranging among a variety of gold and diamonds—all fakes, much to her disappointment. And not a single Miraculous among them.

She slammed the final drawer in with a curse.

Nothing!

If she had the Miraculous, shouldn’t they still be with her? Do they just disappear after being used?

Ugh! Those things really were useless! Utterly useless!

It was when she stood back to full height that she noticed the monthly calendar. There were the standard holidays, but also a weekly appointment every Friday evening with some ‘Bridgette’. What was that? A spa day?

She shot a glance to her reflection in the mirror and grimaced. She definitely needed one. She could just feel all the oils on her skin!

But more to the point, there was one day circled on the calendar.

‘Start of School’

She grabbed her phone—an older, obsolete model with a glittery but fake casing—and checked the date.

That…

That was today.

It was the first day of school. A…

She checked the date again, and sure enough, it was a year ago!

Had the Wish taken her back in time?

She froze, realization hitting her.

This was the first day of school. The same day as the first akuma attack.

And when Ladybug first appeared.

That meant…she was sent back in time to the day Marinette would become Ladybug.

It was a year in the past. She wasn’t at the hotel. Her room was in a bakery. Her father was working as a baker. She was Marinette now.

That meant…

She giggled, feeling a giddiness rise within her.

Today was the day she becomes Ladybug!

It looks like the Wish did something right, after all!

Chloe grinned, spinning away from the mirror and to her closet.

She had to get ready! She had to prepare the perfect outfit! Something for the day she becomes a hero!

No. THE hero!

She knew how the Ladybug worked. Hell, she knew the akumas to come. With her prior knowledge and skills, she would know how to use the yoyo and how to use the Lucky Charm better than the old Ladybug ever did! She’d have every akuma in the bag!

Hell, maybe she could force the Ladybug kwami to tell her where the Guardian is so she can get the other Miraculous, too! That way, she could have both the Ladybug AND the Bee again.

And her Adrikens would be her partner! To support her! To stay by her side! Just as it should be!

She paused, something niggling at the back of her brain. There was something she was forgetting.

A glance around the room as she wondered

Of course, the full extent of the change and just what that meant didn’t really hit her until she went downstairs and actually saw her father.

The poor man was in the middle of retrieving a pan lined with croissants from the unbearably hot oven, his hair contained in…fishnet? Latex? Whatever the cafeteria cooks wore when she had no choice but to eat from the school’s lunchroom.

Gross! He looked like a lunch lady!

He didn’t seem to notice her, too busy dancing around the kitchen and checking over the…whatever pastries those were and just looking proud of himself.

Daddykins, no. You’re better than this! How could you be reduced to such a state?

He seemed to notice her staring. “Are you feeling better?” He asked, looking concerned.

“Er…yeah.” She replied. She wasn’t, really, but she couldn’t tell him that. He could try to have her stay home and how would she get to see the fruits of her labors from there?

“Ah good!” He said cheerfully. “It is the first day of the new school year, and you certainly want to…” He hesitated, “…start off on the right foot.”

A pause. He looked at her expectantly, but she had no idea what he was getting at.

He shook his head and turned away for a moment to grab a box before coming back and presenting it to her.

Clearly he wanted her to take it, so she sighed and took hold of the box. A peek inside revealed a number of macarons.

For her? Now this was what she was talking about!

“Oh, Daddykins! You shouldn’t have!”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “I figured it would be a great way to start off the new year by sharing them with your classmates.”

Ugh. Seriously? All happy feelings vanished in an instant and she shot him a petulant look.

“Why should I have to share?” She demanded.

He hesitated.

She glared, tapping her foot in a clear indication of wanting an answer. Or preferably for him to just say they were all hers.

“It’s a new year and a new start.” Andre said, smiling nervously. “Maybe it’s time to just let bygones be bygones?“

It was a stupid question and she sure let him know it. She stared at him flatly, causing him to wilt.

Andre sighed.

“I know you don’t like her, but…” he hesitated. “Please, just try to get along?”

She blinked.

“Her?”

Wait.

Wait…

It suddenly struck her.

If she was Dupain-Cheng now…

That meant Marinette was in her shoes!

She grinned.

Marinette would be her bully! She’d be the rich bitch daughter of the Mayor and loathed by Paris while Chloe would be—

The one everyone rallied around.

The one Adrikens adored.

The one chosen as Ladybug!

She would have it all!

Part of her hoped the other girl would know about the previous reality…just so she could shove it in her face!

“Just take it slow,” he continued, unaware of her true thoughts. “And then you can report about it to Bridgette at your counseling session on Friday.”

Wait—counseling?

Seeing her expression, he held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

“I know you don’t like it, but it was part of the agreement. You need to make a better impression this year, sweetie.”

“What?”

“She’s the daughter of the Mayor. I’m not sure we can take another…” He trailed off before shaking his head and looking at her imploringly. “You understand, right?”

Oh.

Oh.

She got it!

“Of course, Daddykins!”

Clearly Dupain-Cheng was abusing her influence, just as she thought!

She had to hand it to the girl…a part of her hadn’t been quite convinced that she would go quite that far. But that just proof that Marinette Dupain-Cheng wasn’t so perfect and that even she would be the same as Chloe once in her position!

Chloe knew she would have to bear with the mistreatment for now. No matter how much it would grate her. It would suck to have to have to accept it for any period of time.

Still, it would be worth it! It just meant even more ammunition to use against her once Chloe was Ladybug!

She didn’t even notice the look of concern he gave her or his weak goodbye as she left the bakery with the box in hand. She was too wrapped up in her own thoughts. Particularly her plans.

And what plans they were!

So what if Maribrat had Chloe’s wealth? It wasn’t like she knew the first thing about status or being a symbol. No, Ladybug did that for her and she didn’t even use it right! Not like Chloe would.

She smirked to herself, imagining the future.

Well, as soon as she got the Miraculous, taking the pigtailed down a peg would be the first thing on her list. Maybe a dip in the Seine? Or ‘accidentally’ getting her hit by an akuma or two?

Why limit it to her personally? If Ladybug spoke out against the mayor, who would vote for him? From what she remembered of Marinette’s dad, that oaf had no business being in politics anyway! Then there was the hotel, which would no doubt be a mess with him in charge anyway.

And best of all, she thought with glee, with a word from Paris’s favorite hero, Dupain-Cheng could be implicated as an ally of Hawk Moth.

Who wouldn’t believe it? If Marinette was in Chloe’s place, that meant she had to be a brat despised by Paris. Everyone would likely jump at the excuse to run her out of the city!

It was slightly disappointing that the former Ladybug wouldn’t know why the new Ladybug was so against her or that she had even been replaced, but she didn’t deserve answers anyway.

For once, Chloe was getting everything she wanted. It was like the Universe itself was on her side! Chloe would be the hero with all the Miraculous and status just as she’d always deserved. And everyone would automatically see it and love her while they would already recognize Marinette as the selfish bitch Chloe always knew she was!

It was a win/win for Chloe and all her fans—which was the best kind of win for Chloe.

Sure, it meant she would have to suffer the loss of her basic comforts like a butler, the latest in fashion and accessories, and easy immediate access to a luxury spa for now…but it would be worth it in the long run.

…maybe not the luxury spa. She would kill for the hotel’s oils and masseuse. But she would just have to deal with, ugh, scheduling with a four star locale in the meantime.

It’s for the greatest good, she reminded herself, looking mournfully at her chipped nails.

And besides, she didn’t have to suffer for long.

Today was the first day of school, which signified the first appearance of Ladybug! This was the day she achieved her destiny! Once she became Ladybug, she would be back on top!

So what if her dad was a baker instead of a hotel owner this go around? Who said it had to stay that way? Just as she could use her position to defame the Dupain-Chengs and ruin Marinette, she could endorse the bakery for free publicity. Do special promotions and deals for money. Or even better! She could make the city pay her for her work!

After all, how much was her Miracle Cure worth, really? How much would the city be willing to pay for her to fix the damage caused by akuma fights? It was only what she was owed; the least they could do is compensate her for her time.

Really, it was Marinette’s own fault for not taking advantage while she could. She could’ve been an idol or the city’s star. She could have used the Miraculous to create an army. Hell, Hawk Moth should have been nothing against her! And instead, she just…wasted her potential. On things like loose zoo animals or out of control helicopters, no less!

Chloe wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

And now that Chloe was set to be the city’s hero…

Even if Marinette was rich (for now), it would be nothing compared to what Chloe would have. She would be Paris’s hero! The BEST hero! And unlike that has-been, she at least would use Ladybug’s power and status right!

She didn’t need to be the daughter of the Mayor! Her Mother was still THE Style Queen, Audrey Bourgeois. Adrien Agreste was still her best friend. She was still Chloe Bourgeois, the best thing to happen to Paris! And now as Ladybug, she would still be back on top and ruling Paris in no time!

And it would all start once she got to school.

“Get out of my way!” She exclaimed, shoving some old fart taking his sweet time walking, sending him to the ground and out of her way.

Move aside, peons!

Her destiny awaits!

Back at the intersection, Chloe never noticed the way the elderly gentleman cast her a judging stare from his position on the ground. Or his muttering.

“No, definitely not.”

“Are you okay?” Came a voice.

“Ah, yes!” He replied, accepting the offered hand and taking stock of the girl it belonged to. She was young. In college, likely. “Thank you, young lady!”

“Of course!” She smiled, handing him back his cane. “Do you need help getting home from here? That looked like quite a fall.”

“But don’t you have somewhere to be?” He asked.

“Just school, but I can spare a few minutes if you need…?”

“There is no need for that.” He shook his head. “I will be fine, thank you for your concern.”

Yes, he decided with a smile as he watched her go, this one will do.

_________________

Ugh, walking. Who invented such a thing? She couldn’t wait until she had a personal limo again. This was so not good for her!

Chloe continued plotting as she walked, magnanimously choosing to consider this as part of the reason for revenge instead of its own thing.

And speaking of revenge! Let’s see…

She scrunched her face, trying to remember the events of the first day of school.

There had been that fight with Marinette over her seat. ‘My seat now’, she realized with glee. ‘Which means I’ll be back next to Adrikens!’

Where she should be.

And if she and Dupain-Cheng were now supposed to be switched, that meant ‘the horrible bully Marinette’ would be picking on ‘poor sweet little Chloe’.

She couldn’t wait!

‘Let’s see how you handle being in my shoes, Dupain-Cheng!’

She giggled to herself, ignoring the weirded out looks she was getting from some passing students.

Or the way the other students in general seemed to give her a wide berth.

As they should for the real Queen Bee of this school!

She was already imagining how this was going to go. And with the classroom only a few feet ahead, her vindication was already so close she could taste it!

Except when she finally arrived at the class, it was immediately clear that something wasn’t right.

Dupain-Cheng was there as expected. With her same kiddie pigtails and her pink and grey ensemble with polka-dots—what kind of designer was she anyway?

What wasn’t expected, however, was that Cesaire was already was there as well.

Originally, Cesaire defended Dupain-Cheng and they became friends. If things played out the same, shouldn’t Cesaire be coming in late? Or standing up to Dupain-Cheng here? If anything, they already seemed to be friends.

Unless Cesaire was Dupain-Cheng’s tool like Sabrina had been for her?

It made sense that this new reality would swap more around, she reasoned.

Except…

Chloe frowned. Now that she was actually close enough to the classroom, she could see the classmates gathered into a sort of half circle around Dupain-Cheng and her follower. And as she reached the doorway, she could more clearly hear what they were saying.

“—at the Le Grand Paris.” Marinette said, gesturing to Alya with a smile.

“Wow!”

“So cool!”

“That’s awesome! So you’ve just been staying at the hotel until you can get settled in?”

Alya nodded, smiling. “Yeah. At least for a little while until we could get our own apartment. Mr. Dupain-Cheng was really accommodating. Luckily, we didn’t need it for long before Mom found something. She didn’t want to take advantage of his generosity, but it’s just really amazing that he was willing to offer us room and board just to have Mom as part of his staff!”

Chloe raised a nose in disgust.

Who ever heard of such a thing?! What hotel made any profit letting people stay for free?

“We met when I was cleaning rooms and she offered to help!” Marinette explained brightly.

Chloe nearly gagged.

Cleaned?

Marinette…actually cleaned the hotel?

Why do something that gross?

That’s what the help was for! And Sabrina.

Speaking of, where was she?

Chloe glanced around, but Sabrina was nowhere to be seen amongst the classmates.

Maybe the Wish had done more than switch her with Dupain-Cheng? Maybe Cesaire and Sabrina had been switched as well? So that meant Sabrina should be the new transfer, right?

No wait, that didn’t add up. She had just walked in on Cesaire being introduced.

Sabrina was probably just her best friend, then.

She nodded.

That was good enough, she supposed. At least if she couldn’t have her necessities from the hotel, she still had Sabrina to take care of the more mundane tasks for her.

Unaware of her thoughts, Marinette had continued talking to the others unhindered.

“—said she would be coming to Francios Dupont, and I knew I had to introduce her. She’s new, so be nice.” She instructed, giving a stare to Kim in particular. “Kim.”

The taller boy raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll give her a week before any challenges.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “Challenges? Dare I ask?”

Everyone groaned.

“No dares.” Nino begged, covering his face with his hat. “Please. Kim is bad enough every year. I still can’t look at the hotel without remembering what happened last time…”

“Yeah, your dumb dare got us banned from the hotel’s pool for a month!” Alix said, pointing at Kim, who shrugged helplessly.

“Speaking of the hotel!” Marinette cut in, pulling out her tablet. “I convinced my dad to let us do this year’s work study at the hotel.” She tapped her tablet. “I have a little bit of influence over what they’ll choose as assignments, so we can try to come up with roles everyone will like.”

“Hey yeah! That sounds awesome!”

The classmates crowded the desk, chatting excitedly.

“So where will everyone go?”

“Maybe Kim and Max in security? Or Alix and Max in security, so Kim could work the pool area.”

“As a lifeguard?” Kim asked cheerfully. “I’ve done some training, after all.”

Marinette sent him a wry look and pretended to be thinking it over. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe as a pool cleaner?”

Kim pouted. “No fair, Mari!”

“Hey, it would do you some good to learn the cleaning process for the pools you use so much.” Mylene said, half jokingly and half pointedly, making Kim lower his head and groan.

Marinette giggled a little. “Well at any rate, I’ve set up a list of all the different jobs at the hotel so people can mark their top preferences. Between all the options, everyone is bound to find something that’ll suit them best.”

She sent Adrien a knowing look. “And of course Adrien will be in the kitchen.”

Adrien beamed at that.

Not that Chloe noticed.

“Kitchen?!” Chloe squawked. “You’re going to make my Adrikens work in a dirty old kitchen?!”

She had known Marinette would be bad, but how dare she punish Adrikens like that? She could just see it now! Her poor Adrikens, forced to slave away in a room meant for servants like…like he was a servant! Where he could get covered in grime and burn his precious skin!

Everyone frowned at her, as if she was the one being ridiculous!

The boy in question raised his hand.

“But I want to—”

“That is a flagrant abuse of power!” Chloe shouted, slamming a hand on the desk. “She’s making Adrikens work like a maid! What if his father hears about this?!”

Adrien wilted in on himself.

“The kitchen isn’t dirty or old.” Marinette said, sounding annoyingly calm with a terseness in her tone that Chloe had heard some service workers use when dealing with particularly difficult customers—though why they used it with her was beyond her. It was as if Marinette was acting like she the reasonable one dealing with an unreasonable customer or something. “They just finished the remodeling three months ago, we clean it regularly, and all of our utensils and equipment are taken good care of.”

“That’s not the point!” Chloe shouted. “How could you use my Adrikens in such a way? Gabriel Agreste would never approve when he hears about this!”

Because he would be hearing about this! Chloe would make sure of it!

“I could just explain to Mr. Agreste that this would be for good publicity.” Marinette suggested. “I’m sure he would allow it.”

She knew it! There were really no lows she wouldn’t go to!

“You’re really pushing this! And you call yourself Adrikens’ friend!” Chloe pointed at Marinette accusingly. “Just because your Daddy’s the Mayor doesn’t mean you can treat people like they’re lesser than you!”

Marinette frowned, looking uncertain as her gaze flickered between the others.

Hah! Even in Chloe’s position, Marinette still wavered easily and she couldn’t hide her insecurities to save her life. It was why she always gave in in the end! Anyone would roll over someone showing such an obvious weakness!

Hell, she may not even need to wait to see her taken down. This was a perfect opportunity to lead everyone in rising up against her tyranny.

After a few seconds, she turned back to face Chloe, no doubt to attack her for challenging her and show her true colors—

“Chloe, are you okay?”

Huh?

“My Dad just runs the Hotel. He isn’t the Mayor.”

What?!

“My Mom is. You met her at your…” She hesitated, sending the others a glance before lowering her voice, “…meeting, remember?”

She had to bite her tongue regarding the ridiculousness of Dupain-Cheng’s mother being the Mayor. Was that woman even a French citizen?

But it was the other part of Marinette’s statement that concerned her. What meeting? What was she even getting at? Why was she trying to be quiet about it.

Nevermind! She’d worry about that later!

“It doesn’t matter!” Chloe shouted, forcing Marinette to back away. “The fact is that you can’t just throw your weight around to get your way and treat people however you like! And I’m not the only one who feels that way!” She exclaimed, turning to the classmates in expectation.

…only to get a number of blank or confused stares in response.

“Um, what are you even talking about?” Alya asked incredulously.

What?

“Yeah, dude! Marinette doesn’t treat anyone that way.” Nino added.

What?

“The only one who pulls that sort of thing is you.” Said Nathaniel bitingly.

Since when does that loser talk?

And also, what?!

“And aren’t you supposed to be leaving Marinette alone?” Alix asked, giving Chloe a pointed look.

What even was that about?

“I thought that was the agreement.” Mylene said quietly.

Seriously?! Was everyone on her side?

They were supposed to be silent! Or judging the Mayor’s brat! That’s what they did with Chloe! Instead, they were jumping to her defense!

“Are you serious?” She demanded. “Like she doesn’t abuse her power and authority to push people around!”

“Of course not!” Marinette insisted. And then to Chloe’s rage, seemed to draw herself up even more, actually looking confident and self assured in a way Chloe herself had never felt in her place. “As the daughter of the mayor, I have to set a good example.”

Ex…

Example?

What even was that?

Unaware of Chloe’s short-circuiting, she continued. “And Chloe, I wouldn’t force anyone to do a role that they don’t want. That’s why I brought the list here for the class to review first.” She gestured to her tablet. “That way everyone has a chance to pick what roles they want and we can avoid the ones no one wants to do. How is that a bad thing?”

It wasn’t, admittedly. But Marinette wasn’t supposed to be the one doing it! That was the problem!

“And who put you in charge?!” Chloe demanded of Marinette. “Why are you deciding where we’ll do the work study? What, are you using the Class Rep position to flaunt your family’s hotel?”

It would make sense. Chloe had been the Class Rep for years originally. If Marinette was her…

Marinette just gave her a strange look.

“No. I’m not Class Rep, remember?”

Chloe balked.

“What?”

“Chloe, did you hit your head?” Marinette asked, sounding worried. She held a hand out in offering. “Do you need to go to the Nurse’s Office?”

Chloe jerked away from the girl’s outreached hand. Why would Dupain-Cheng still be acting…nice?

Clearly she must still be pretending!

“Nevermind that! If you aren’t the Class Rep, then who is?”

“Your benevolent dictator is here!” Came a voice. A familiar voice. The last one Chloe expected.

“Hey, Class Rep.” Marinette said, giving Chloe a pointed look while waving to the person behind her.

Chloe turned slowly. She had to force herself to move. The strain made it feel like her bones were creaking.

Behind her, Sabrina stood tall with a tablet in hand and looking…surprisingly well for a new reality as a lackey of someone other than Chloe. She almost didn’t recognize her.

Chloe stood straight, expecting the standard greeting.

To her shock, Sabrina didn’t even look at her, instead moving past her to…

“Wow, Marinette! Nice jacket!” Sabrina said first thing in greeting as she moved over to the other girl in interest.

Marinette blushed at the praise. “Thanks! My dad got me some new fabric and I was inspired to try this style!” She gave a wink. “Now this is just a test run to see how it works out.”

“It certainly looks comfortable.” Sabrina said in awe.

Were…were they ignoring her?

“I have some of the material left.” Marinette said. “I could make you your own for your birthday if you want?”

Oh gag! Why would anyone want Marinette’s tacky creations instead of the latest in season creation?

And there was Sabrina looking like that was something to be excited about!

Oh no! Without Chloe to guide her, she had lost any sense of fashion! No matter how much fuller her hair was or how she no longer looked like a strong wind could blow her away!

Clearly, her life was a tragedy without Chloe!

“And I checked like you asked.” Marinette continued, unaware of Chloe’s glare. “My Dad said we could do the work study at his hotel.”

“Thank you!” Sabrina cheered. “That’ll be one less thing to worry about.”

“Yeah, we were talking about that when you came in.” Marinette explained.

Chloe glared pointedly at the girl over the way she was blatantly ignoring that they had been in the middle of Chloe calling her out! Seriously, what was the point of getting to tell people off for their flaws if they were going to ignore you and pretend it never happened! Really! You can’t just ignore the truth like that!

“We were discussing what positions everyone wanted.” Mylene said. “Even if we can’t get the exact ones we’d like, there’ll at least be options.”

“Juleka and I can clean the ball room!” Rose exclaimed. “It will give us a chance to check the acoustics of the room. We’ve been wondering about the effects and what to expect if our band ever plays in such an area.“

Nino looked intrigued at that. “Hey, that does sound like a good idea. Maybe sign me up for that as well?” He asked, turning to Marinette before mumbling to himself about the echo effect on his beats.

Marinette gave him a nod before turning back to Rose. “I heard you guys just started, didn’t you?“

Rose nodded, beaming. “It’s so much fun!”

Marinette smiled and marked it down on her list. “Then I’ll suggest that for you.”

She paused for a moment, hesitating in clear unwillingness to continue before giving a strained smile.

“And Chloe...”

“How about trash cleanup?” Alix snarked, giving the girl a dark look.

“Excuse you?!” Chloe shouted in outrage. “Do you know who my daddy is?!”

The looks she was given were completely unimpressed.

“A baker?”

“And not even a good one.”

"Hey, his croissants are all right."

Chloe blanched, remembering that her father wasn’t the mayor in this world.

He wasn’t even rich.

He was just a baker now. A simple ordinary not even very good baker who was barely keeping his head above water trying to maintain his business and manage his teenage daughter.

And that made Chloe…

Nothing.

Her go to tactic now had no power.

But…but Sabrina! She realized in a flash that her minion was apparently the Class Rep! She could have her back her!

But when she spun around to look, the girl had actually just abandoned her and the gathering altogether to sit next to Mylene of all people! Mylene! And they were just…chatting! Since when did those two spend time together! And why wasn’t Sabrina there for her?!

“Chloe!” Came the only voice worth listening to.

Oh, Adrikens! Of course you would always be there for her!

She spun to him in expectation. Because of course her Adrikens would be on her side! Her savior! Her only ally against such cruel tyranny—

But he didn’t look happy. Or in any way amicable to her. “Don’t forget!” He whispered sharply to her. “You’re still on probation! You can’t start another commotion before the first class of the school year has even started!”

Chloe blinked.

Pro…

Probation?

…

…

…

Her?!

“How am I on—?!”

It was impossible! She had never had a criminal record! She’d never even committed a crime! Or anything that warranted getting in trouble over!

Regardless of what Ladybug said, since she clearly had it out for her.

“Just leave Marinette alone.” Adrien whispered, turning her away from the rest of the group and…her. “Please.”

She didn’t want to. There were so many questions and so many things she wanted to demand right now. She was very well inclined to make demands regardless, because she didn’t know what was going on and she needed answers.

But it was her Adrikens asking.

And she didn’t have much chance to say anything else as Bustier had chosen that time to arrive.

“Welcome back, everyone!” The woman greeted cheerfully. Her arrival cut off all other discussion as the students made their way to their desks. “I hope everyone had a good break and that we’re all ready to start the new year.”

A chorus of affirmations followed as everyone took their seats.

Everyone except Chloe, who was glancing around the room in confusion.

None of this was right.

She had expected to fight with Marinette over her seat to get to sit behind Adrien, but he was sitting at the back next to Nathaniel. And Marinette was sitting in the mid row on the other side from him, pulling Alya to sit next to her. But if she wasn’t sitting behind Adrien, what was even the point of challenging her for her seat?

…where even was Chloe’s seat?

She would have sad next to Sabrina, but that traitor hadn’t moved from her spot next to Mylene and left no room for Chloe! And nobody else was calling Chloe over—so if someone else had taken Sabrina’s place as her best friend, she had no way of even knowing who it was!

“Chloe,” Bustier called to her, ever so gently. “Your seat is up at the front, remember? As we discussed the last time we met.” She gestured to the bench at the front.

It was across the one Chloe had sat at previously, being the front desk closest to the door. And to her frustration, there was no one sitting with her! How else was she supposed to get her assignments copied? And wasn’t that the seat that loser, Nino, had been put in because he got in trouble? Chloe wasn’t in trouble though!

Adrien’s words about probation hit her, making her wince.

…was she?

She wanted to ask. She wanted to stomp her foot and demand the answers she deserved.

But Bustier was staring at her expectantly. And she could hear some giggles and snickering from behind her the longer she waited. She glanced back to Adrikens, but…he wasn’t even looking at her! He was conversing with Nathaniel over something on his sketchbook!

How could a sketchbook be more important than his best friend?!

With little other choice, Chloe slid into the front desk, blushing furiously in humiliation and trying to ignore everyone behind her.

It didn’t matter.

None of them mattered!

None of this would matter once she got the Miraculous and put Dupain-Cheng in her place! Then everyone would know SHE was the Queen Bee!

She was sure of it!

[calicosol-blog]

Couch Recycling Near Me

Affordable Sustainable Furniture

Will the tropical leaf print pads that are at present on your sofa end up in the garbage close by the high difference chevron throw you had three years earlier? In case speedy furniture continues to climb as quick as fast plan has, the fitting reaction is yes.

As demonstrated by EPA estimations, in excess of nine tons of furniture and home adornments ended up in landfills in 2015. In an ideal world, all purchaser product would be financially created and sensible. Regardless, that isn't the world we live in. Is it really marvelous for buyers to overextend themselves financially for being green? Where might it be a smart thought for us to stand firm and it is practical to find adjust?

Speedy Fashion To Fast Furniture

In prior numerous years, unbelievable game plans on furniture could be found in stores (plausible with the word discount in the name) that sold the whole room. Groups would consolidate a love seat, loveseat and ottoman for a low, minimal expense. They'd even throw in a free game plan of lights. However, that is as of now not stand-out.

Progressed

A couple of fast style retailers have parlayed their reputation into the home market. An extraordinary outline of this is Zara Home, which offers lots of sharp engineer complex subject dupes for each room in the home. They also have a confined assurance of furniture including irregular tables and seats.

Nevertheless, individual European fast plan retailer H&M has a substitute technique. They don't offer any decorations, yet have a greater assurance of expressive topic and embellishments. There are a couple of lines inside the home grouping including Conscious, which features things like cushions made of sensible regular cotton. In all honesty, the brand's greater target is to use absolutely 100% reused or other sensibly sourced materials by 2030.

MORE FOR YOU

Again and again, Solving Supply Chain Issues Circles Back To One Thing

Home credit Rates Will Spike If U.S. Defaults On Debt, Moody's Report Finds

Fortress Lauderdale Poised For Unprecedented Growth This Decade

Wayfair Gets On Board

Wayfair has reliably offered a plan of things in each worth reach from sofas under $200 to more than $27k from its upscale picture Perigold. In June, they dispatched Hashtag Home, which is expressly displayed as speedy style. The line has furniture and additional items for each room in snappy, electronic media pleasant tones. It's a splendid, serious, and certified move for the brand.

Buyers are adequately canny to understand that the modest pieces they're presumably going to gather themselves with little screwdrivers most likely will not go to their next apartment suite, never mind their grandchildren. So why envision something different?

They Don't Make It Like They Used To

It's fair to say that various Millennials and intelligent some of Generation Z put adequate energy in the receiving area with Dad's old seat or a sofa that never really ought to have been displaced. However, it will likely be a substitute story for their children. "[Furniture] is ending up being more unnecessary than collectible and that infers pieces are not a lot of made enough to be given over through ages," says inside originator Barbara Schmidt of Studiobstyle.

Comparative as style, it's not hard to find sensible variations of designer styles. "The most stuck and popular styles are introduced by shippers more affordable, speedier and with less quality than any time in ongoing memory. As an organizer, I see emphasess of expensive plans in the critical chain retailers almost as fast as a new prevailing fashion hits Pinterest," she says.

Schmidt feels it is imperative that clients, makers, organizers, and producers look for eco-obliging, ethically and financially sourced things. "For sure, even with these undertakings, we continue to contemplate whether it's adequate to help the environment and slow ecological change. I'm a significant protector of reusing pieces and upcycling furniture to give them new life. This is the truly viable furniture that I need to focal point for my clients."

Schmidt takes however much honest conviction as could reasonably be expected, by reusing building materials, furniture, establishments and whatever else that can be repurposed. She in like manner gives supporting additional arrangement materials like models, divider covers, surfaces and tile to subject matter experts.

The Need For Fast Furniture

While various furniture purchases are necessities, need is moreover a factor, especially when families need to consume a greater space, explains Brian Sheehan, displaying overseer of Hollingsworth. "In this current reality where home credits are growing, people are at this point moving starting with one space then onto the next and require new furniture to oblige their spaces," he says. "With a compelling stock organization, people are less disposed to move furniture starting with one home then onto the next. Taking everything into account, it is more profitable to sell/dispose of something and override it with refreshed furnishings."

Sheehan sees while this may not be magnificent for the environment, it justifies communicating that 13% of Hollingsworth's stockrooms are involved by speedy decorations. As much complement as we put on sensibility, when in doubt, fast furniture isn't vanishing any time soon.

Alternatives Approaches

Enrollment models are one decision to speedy furniture that is on the climb. New organizations, for instance, Fernish and Feather have reiterated the rental business offering smooth pieces from outstanding retailers. While the typical family isn't their customer, people who are in transitory life stages are.

The used furniture market is furthermore prospering in different ways. Numerous people are buying and selling more noteworthy pieces used through Facebook Marketplace as an alternative rather than Craigslist.

Kaiyo is another web based business place that sells just utilized pieces. They say they've kept in excess of 800,000 pounds of furniture out of landfills.

In June 2019, Poshmark dispatched The Home Market. While furniture isn't open yet, a collection of home supplement characterizations including bedding, shower embellishments and divider craftsmanship are.

Security

While the biological impact of fast furniture is clear, that isn't the fundamental issue. Eugene Kim, who is the originator of home equipping brand Dims says there are issues to consider. "Most furniture is made with the most economical possible culminations and pastes, which (as anybody may expect) suggests they release risky fume and poisons," he says.

Reduces uses premium Greenguard confirmed fruitions and pastes on all of their wood things since they satisfy exhaustive rules for low releases of hazardous manufactured substances. "These materials do cost even more anyway as furniture makers, we trust it's a simple choice that the furniture we make should not adequately hurt our customers," Kim explains.

Just as ending up in landfills, designed strands in materials can be hazardous in substitute ways, says Armadillo and Co prime ally Sally Pottharst. "Armadillo and Co deliberately sidesteps designed fibers as a result of how virgin created materials are delivered utilizing oil based goods, which remove tremendous proportions of energy to isolate oil from the start to make."

Finding Balance

So how does the typical individual find balance? Mulling over impression is one philosophy. Generally, the greater a thing is, the more sensible it should be. For those on a tight spending plan, things that don't ought to be solid like irregular tables, feature seats and elaborate format can be purchased financially. Then, pick phenomenal sofas, beds, devouring tables, etc

It's moreover possible to find pieces absolutely strong at a reasonable expense. Kyle Hoff, Co-Founder of Floyd, started the brand to find that reasonable trade off. "You can make a thing out of reused materials the whole day, yet on the off chance that it's something tossed out a year sometime later, what advantage is that? In any case quality materials and being deliberate concerning how our things are created, we think one with regards to the best differentiators is genuinely arranging the thing to be kept. That suggests you assemble and destroy it."

The brand's furniture is arranged with parts that are useful, so if something breaks later on, simply a section ought to be superseded.

Hoff furthermore acknowledges that style can be fundamental for practicality. "While most furniture associations are revolved around this current season's lounge chair, Floyd is going through years culminating a thing that we'll stay behind for a serious long an ideal opportunity to come, a fundamental factor in the circumstance of making an ever-enduring piece."

[jacobmybeloved]

Little Lamb - Ch.1 {Farcry 5 fanfic/prequel/OC Deputy}

Before you begin reading please refer to this post:

 It gives a brief description of the story and possible triggers. 

The target was in her sights. Nayeli took a deep breath as she drew back on the string of her bow, her eyes gazing down the shaft of the arrow. It was midday, and the Montana sun was beating down heavily on her. A dip into the river sounded like a great plan once she took care of the “rodent” problem. Some turkey vultures had set up shop on the roof of her mother’s hunting supply shop, swooping in on would be customers if they got too close. Nayeli figured she was doing her mother a favor.

She released the nook and bowstring, allowing the arrow to soar to its rightful destination. The vultures caught wind of the impending danger, but one was not able to make it off the roof as quickly as their comrades. The arrow pierced easily through its body, slumping down the slope of the roof to the ground. “Yes!” Nayeli cheered. That should scare the others away for now until they could come up with a permanent solution to keep them away.

Archery was her favorite pastime, though her mother wished she had chosen something more “practical”. Nayeli turned her head as she heard tires rolling across the gravel towards the shop. A woman jumped out of the truck immediately, eyes wide, her mouth already running at a hundred miles an hour, hands gesturing in the air. “Nayeli Lamb, what you think you’re doing!” Even screaming, Nayeli thought her mother to be one of the most beautiful women she’s ever seen. Her Salish characteristics stood out amongst the rest of the residents in Hope County: her raven black hair was in a single braid today, whooshing left to right as she marched towards her daughter, her tawny skin complimented by the glow of the sun, brown eyes the color of milk chocolate. While Nayeli shared many of her mother’s physical characteristics, her eyes were hazel and her hair was more reflective of her father’s genes. Though still dark, in the sun, hints of brown showing through. Her skin was also a tad lighter, once again, attributed to having a Caucasian father. It was part of the reason they decided to move away from their original reservation: children could be cruel, and at times violent, especially against the young Nayeli who they lovingly nicknamed “moon-walker” – poking fun as her parentage. Once her mother was within arms reach, she yanked the bow from her hands, exasperated. “How many times have I told you not to use this without my supervision.”

Nayeli’s kept her head up as she stared at her mother head on, “I know, but I thought I would surprise you-you know?” she smiled sheepishly, gesturing to the dead vulture laying at the foot of the shop. Her mother sighed, rubbing her eyes with her index and thumb respectively. “Nayeli…I’m not worried about the vultures. I am worried about what someone would have done if they saw a child without their parent wielding THIS.” Her mother tossed the bow to the ground. “Your father is making this custody battle hard enough. I asked you to look after the shop for one hour. We cannot afford to lose it, Nayeli..” She could see her mother doing her best to remain calm, but she could see her eyes begin to squint, holding back the feeling of tears. “I cannot afford to lose my only child.”

The divorce had been finalized over a year ago. Things weren’t going well for her parents for a long time, but they stayed together for her sake. After the death of her brother, it seemed like the last straw. Nayeli’s father had been adamant about getting her to move out to California with him after the divorce. Better schools, more opportunities, financial security. Sounded like a bore, to be honest. She enjoyed running the hunting supply store with her mother, though it did mean she often missed school. Her mother worked graveyard as a waitress, but this store was their main source of income. The guilt of adding more stress to her mother’s load was beginning to sink in. “I’m sorry mom. It won’t happen again.” Nayeli removed the quiver from her back, handing it to her mother. Her mother sighed and set the quiver down, bringing Nayeli into an embrace.

“It’s okay. Just…please be more mindful of what you’re doing.” Her mother ran her hands through her hair as she placed a kiss on Nayeli’s forehead. As her mother pulled away, Nayeli could see another vehicle pulling up to the storefront. The word SHERIFF was embedded into the side of the vehicle, which would have normally struck some sort of discomfort into others, but Nayeli could not help but smile. An older man stepped out from the vehicle: he had a bit of a gut, and he hid his receding hairline with his sheriff’s hat, but Sheriff Whitehorse had a kind face, and this was just a routine stop for him. He removed his hat as he approached, Nayeli’s mother turning to him with a smile. Everyone in the county knew Whitehorse had the most severe case of puppy love when it came to Nayeli’s mother from the moment they met so many years prior. He would often stop by the shop under the guise of the interest in buying a new handgun, but Nayeli knew he stopped by mostly just to see her mother. “Sokanon. Nayeli. How are my two favorite ladies doing?” Whitehorse gazed curiously at the bow and quiver laying on the ground and then to the corpse of the turkey vulture some yards away. “We’re well Earl. Just..having some mother-daughter bonding.”

“If you want to call it that.” Nayeli snickered. Sokanon glared, but in a playful way at her daughter. “Go inside the house and wash up. I’ll close up the shop and we can order some pizza for dinner.” Nayeli smiled, “Extra cheese?” Her mother laughed and held her close to her before letting go. “Extra cheese. Just for you.” Nayeli gleamed. Even in their worst moments, Nayeli and her mother usually made up within minutes. Before going into the house, Nayeli turned to the Sherriff. “Would you like to join, Sherriff?” Whitehorse was always kind to her family, even if her father was not very receptive to him. He probably could see the feelings he had for his wife radiating off his aura after all. If they ever had issues with anything, Whitehorse was usually the first to offer his full-fledged support. If he and her mother ever got together, Nayeli would not object, though she was not sure if the feelings were reciprocated anywhere close on her mother’s part.

Sokanon gave Nayeli a raised brow at the request before turning to the Sherriff. “I don’t mind. There’s always room at our table for you, Earl.” The Sheriff’s face, though already red just from sun exposure on the job, turned an even deeper shade. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I would be honored but I don’t want to intrude.”Sokanon walked towards the Sherriff, placing a hand on his shoulder. Nayeli could see his grip on his hat grow tighter. “It would be our honor to have you for dinner Sherriff, I insist.”Nayeli wasn’t sure if she should walk away at this point because number one, seeing men pining after your mother was always awkward in the first place, but now she was beginning to think that there may be mutual feelings. Not that she would mind if they did end up started dating. Her mother deserved to have something nice. Someone nice.

Whitehorse glanced at Nayeli as if looking for some sort of approval or gesture of what to say. Nayeli raised both thumbs, nodding. Earl cleared his throat once more smiling. “My shift is over in forty minutes. I’ll clean up and be right over.” For the most part, Sokanon’s back was turned towards Nayeli as she spoke to Whitehorse, but she could see her smile from where she stood. It was the most genuine smile she had seen in a long while.

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

Nayeli and her mother resided in the residential suite above the shop. It was a tight fit but Nayeli did not mind. Despite the living room having more room obviously to sit upstairs, her mother and the Sherriff took residence downstairs in the shop in the seating area designated or husbands or wives who were dragged along to look at weaponry. She could hear her mother’s laughter through the floorboards. Dinner had been over for over two hours now, but Sokanon and the Sheriff retreated downstairs to have some privacy to “chat”. Thank the Lord because if anything more were to happen, Nayeli would like to be exempt from hearing it. Nayeli’s room was simple: wooden paneled walls, pictures of her favorite bands, hunting magazines spread across her floor, mattress on the floor, and a desk with textbooks slowly accumulating dust. Nayeli was sitting cross-legged on her bed, shuffling through her CDs deciding what to play next on her portable cd player. Most of her music variety came from the 40’s to early 50’s. She had some contemporary music, but she found the oldies to be preferable. She continued debating on what to listen to when she heard a light tap at her window.

At first, she thought she was just hearing things but it was followed by another tap. Nayeli groaned as she dragged herself from her bed. She looked out and saw the figure of a boy standing down below, smiling and waving up at her. Nayeli smiled when she realized just who it was. She slid the window up and stuck her head out. “Staci Pratt, what are you doing here?” She did her best to keep her voice down. Despite her mother seemingly having the best of times downstairs, she did not want to risk the chance of her hearing her and Pratt talking. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d just say hi.” Pratt grinned. “You’re a terrible liar, Pratt.” Nayeli giggled. “You’re right. So are you going to let me up or what.” Nayeli took one of the pebbles that landed on the edge of the roofing and threw it down back at him, nearly missing him. “Are you nuts, my mom will kill me if she knew you were here.”

“Even better. The higher the risk, the better the reward,” he teased. Nayeli groaned. “You are the most ridiculous boy I’ve ever met. Don’t you have finals to prep for or something?”

Nayeli was only a few months older than Pratt, but because she missed so much school to begin with helping her mother run the shop, she had been held a couple times. He would be graduating within the next two months while she would barely be finishing her junior year. Guess getting her GED was always an option.

“You are…not wrong,” he beamed. “I wanted to ask actually…some of the guys are throwing a bonfire after graduation at the end of the semester to celebrate. Would you be interested in going? I mean, with me?” Nayeli rested her arms on the window seal, enjoying every moment of Pratt becoming flustered. Pratt was one of the few boys her age she actually found attractive, not that there was a large variety here in Holland Valley. He was a decent student, but at the same time had a bad boy vibe, but he seemed like he’d be too much of a huge flirt for anything serious. He was though probably the closest person she had to a best friend.

“Depends. Who’s all going?”

“Well, us obviously. Mary May possibly. Some of the oldies: Nick Rye, his girlfriend Kim. You know, most of the graduating class should be there. Boshaw said he would bring the fireworks and alcohol. We’re shooting for just outside of the reservation, so the cops don’t catch on and shut it down. Everyone knows the reservation’s security is lackluster anyway.”

Nayeli stood up, “Hold on, rewind. Boshaw? That Sharky guy? Isn’t he a bit old to hang out with a bunch of high school graduates? Plus, hasn’t he been arrested like a million times for arson?”

Pratt laughed and shook off her concern. “I mean, it was all in good fun. Sharky is a cool guy, you just gotta get past his weird humor.” Nayeli was all for a fun time, but this was sounding a bit risky especially adding fire, alcohol, and teenagers into the mix. “I don’t know Pratt…my mom has been on my ass lately, especially with…with everything going on between her and my dad.” Pratt looked disappointed, but he knew better than to push the matter further. “It’s cool. Maybe you and I can hang out another time.  Maybe your mom’s place for a milkshake? After graduation? Start off the summer on a good note.”

Nayeli smiled, and that seemed to trigger one for Pratt as well. “Yeah, I like that plan.” Pratt nodded and looked around sheepishly. “Well, you have a good night Nayeli.”

“You too Pratt,” she spoke as she slid her window back down. She sat back on her bed, sort of staring off into space. Maybe, just maybe, if she was out front about it and asked, her mother would let her attend the bonfire. She knew she would have to leave out some minor details, such as possible underage drinking taking place, and resident arson Sharky Boshaw being present. There was no harm in asking though, and she had the end of the month to work up the courage. For now, she did not want to work up her mother any more than she was already though that did not seem to be a problem at the present moment. Nayeli could still hear her mother’s laughter from downstairs. The sound brought a smile to her own face as she laid her head down to sleep.

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

*Month and a half till the Bonfire*

“Nayeli. Nayeli!”

Nayeli groaned as she raised her head from her pillow. The blurry figure of her mother stood over her as she tried to focus her vision on the alarm clock beside her mattress. The ominous red numbers read 3:08am. On what planet was this an acceptable time to be awake on a Saturday morning.

“Nayeli, I have to go to the diner. One of the girls called in. Do you think you can open up and keep an eye on the shop until I get home?” Her mother was still in the process of getting ready it looked like. She just finished tying her white apron around her waist and was now securing her flowing hair into a messy bun secured at the top of her head. “Yes mom, I believe I can manage,” she mumbled as she stuffed her face back into her pillow.

“Thank you, sweetie.” Sokanon kissed Nayeli on the back of her head. Nayeli turned her head just in time to hear her mom mumble to herself before shutting the door to Nayeli’s bedroom. “Things will get better. I promise.” Whether it was directed to herself or Nayeli was up for debate.

Nayeli laid in silence for a few moments. Now was not the time for an existential crisis. But her mom’s words were like a gong going off in her head. She knew her mother must have felt some guilt for keeping her from completing high school like a normal teenager, but they were not a normal family. While her father was off in California in his bungalow or whatever, she and her mother were here struggling to stay afloat. It had been easier when her brother was…was still here. Not by much but his mere presence made things seem better. He had worked as a local car mechanic, and the boy could light up the room with his smile. Best mechanic in Hope County people would say. Bright future he had ahead of him. He would have graduated last year. Gone at the hands of a drunk driver. It was no wonder her mother seemed so high strung lately. This was a stressful time, to begin with, and now with her father breathing down their necks with wanting Nayeli to move to California to live with him instead.

Things will get better. I promise.

I know mom, she thought to herself.

Falling back asleep became more of a hassle than it was worth following her reflective episode. Nayeli sat up in bed and looked at her alarm clock. 4:43am. Might as well get this day started. Nayeli spent the next couple hours before opening the store tidying upstairs; one less thing for her mother to worry about when she came home. Not that there was much to clean, to begin with. They did not have much in terms of material items. The most extravagant item Nayeli owned, to be honest, was her portable cd player. Every ounce of the coin they had gone into this shop and keeping it open. It was a worthwhile investment when Sokanon and Nayeli’s father first married. Despite being in the middle of the wild, open country, Hope County did not really have a lot of places to buy hunting supplies. Sokanon would speak to Nayeli of how her people descended from skilled hunters which first inspired her to take up archery. Nayeli’s father cared less about the passing down of tradition and more of making a profit to keep the family afloat. Nayeli did not know all the details, just because she had no real interest but apparently, state-government interference with hunting laws kept people from being able to hunt, which dragged the business down to the current slump they were in. Money became an issue which sparked arguments, arguments sparked into pure disdain for each other, and that disdain was amplified with her brother’s death, thus ending in her parent’s divorce.

Nayeli did not hate her father for leaving. She simply just did not really care for him. Last time they spoke a few months ago, he had already started up a new business and was raking in the money, thus, why he wanted her to live with him instead of Sokanon. Nayeli could never get her mother to admit it but she knew her mother sacrificed a lot for her family: moving away from the reservation in the first place for the sake of Nayeli, the fact that she was subjugated to hate from her own tribe for marrying a “white devil”. All Sokanon had was Nayeli, and if cleaning up the house and keeping the shop operating helped her mother, then goddamn she was going to do it.

Apparently, cleaning had taken longer than expected because the next time she looked at a clock, it was 8:04am. Already four minutes past opening time. Shit. Nayeli did not even have time to fully get dressed. She threw on the basics: bra, tank top, and yoga pants and pulled her long-ass hair into a low-ponytail before sprinting downstairs. She had barely flipped the CLOSED sign to OPEN and unlocked the door when already she spotted a trio of older guys walking up. She recognized them immediately. These were the boys from the reservation who had given her the kind nicknamed “Moon-walker” when she was little. What the fuck are they doing here? She’s had her run-ins with them before, but it’s been a couple years since she last saw them.

Nayeli stepped back from the door as they entered. Mischief was written over their face. The leader of the group grinned as he took her image in. “Well, someone aged well didn’t she.”

Nayeli felt disgusted by his comment before getting straight to the point “What do you guys want.”

“There’s been a rumor going around that the locals are planning a bonfire at the end of the month. Problem is, they’re planning to have it on the edge of the reservation.”

Nayeli could see where this was going. “-and the reservation is dry.” AKA, alcohol was forbidden. “Precisely.” He replied.

Nayeli shook her head. “And? What does this have to do with me?”

“Well, you see moon-walker, we know reservation security is too lazy to actually uphold our values, so we are taking matters into our own hands. We figured you could pass the warning along.” At this point, the other two guys were browsing the variety of knives and guns enclosed away in the glass cases. Nayeli scoffed, “You’re joking. You’re going to shoot up the bonfire because they have alcohol?” The guy wasted no time getting into her face. He had at least a foot over her. “They’re on reservation land. Technically, we’re free to do whatever we want to them. And if they’re going to go into our territory, and disrespect our rules, then we’re going to react accordingly.  So, you’re going to sell me something, so that I can act “accordingly.”” He chest bumped her at this point, which she was not expecting so she stumbled back, ending up with her back to one of the other fellows.

“I’m not selling shit to you assholes. Get out of my store. Now.”

“Oh, so it’s your store now. Thought your white-devil loving mother owned it- “

Nayeli wasn’t sure what she was thinking but by the time the palm of her hand slapped the ever-loving hell out of the main guy, she immediately felt some form of stupidity as the two other guys grabbed her by her arms, holding her in place.“You fucking bitch-“the one who just got bitch slapped looked like he was revving up to knock the life out of her when the bell to the front door rang, indicating a customer entering. It was a low, stoic voice. Almost like a growl. “Is there a problem here?” Everyone’s attention turned to the gentleman standing in the doorway. Nayeli’s eyes widened.The man was at least six feet tall, if not taller, built sturdy, reddish hair, dressed in what looked like army fatigues with J.SEED labeled on his right side. What was most noticeable were what looked like scars, or…some kind of rash on his arms and hands.

The two boys with their hands on Nayeli let go and stood beside their designated goon leader. He made a gesture to speak but the stranger raised his hand slightly, making a “nuh uh” gesture. “I suggest that whatever cogs are turning in that head of yours should probably decide that marching your ass out that door right now is going to be the wisest thing you do today.” It took less than actual seconds before the three idiots were out of the store. Nayeli’s hands reached up to the hand imprints left on her arms as she stared at the stranger, who was now casually browsing the store. “Sir…” He must’ve not heard her because he continued to browse. His eyes seemed calculated, focused. “Sir..?” Nayeli didn’t know why but when he turned to her she jumped back slightly. His gaze was intense, his eyes a shade of piercing blue she had never seen before. His face was covered in the same rash and scars that decorated his arms. She swallowed nervously, “I-thank you for your help.” The stranger said nothing but kept his gaze on her. This was incredibly awkward. After what seemed like a whole minute of staring, he spoke.

“Knife.”

“What?”

“How much for the knife.” He pointed to one in particular inside one of the cases.

“Oh. Give me one second.” Nayeli made her way around the counter and opened the case. Lifting the knife, she told him the price. It was just shy of the quadruple digits. A hard sell for sure. She placed it on the counter for the gentlemen to examine. As he reached for it, she could not help but notice his scars more in detail. What sort of hell had this man been through? His hands alone were large enough to snap her in half if he wanted to. His examination of the knife was followed by more awkward silence. What he did next made her gasp: he drew the blade across the palm of his hand, not too hard, but enough that it sliced through it like a knife through warm butter. For some reason, this brought what sounded like a sound of satisfaction from him. “Hmph.”

Nayeli was not sure what to do at this point, nor was she sure how to react when he pulled out two-thick rolls of cash from his pocket and set them on the counter. Nayeli knew that was way too much. “It will take me a moment to get you change sir, I have not opened the safe yet today.” The man glanced at her as he placed the knife into a holster that seemed like it was always meant to hold that knife. Like it was fate. “Keep the change…miss…?” Was he asking her name? She figured she could give him that much considering he saved her from a possible black eye, or worse. And his generous over-payment. “Nayeli. My name is Nayeli Lamb.”

“Nayeli Lamb.” He spoke, pronouncing each syllable individually. “Jacob Seed. My brothers and I are rather new here…any interesting points of interest, little lamb?”

[sakuurae]

after hours; part 1 [m]

summary: your night job at taeyong’s strip club has always been a secret; it is how you are able to live well during your life at university. though, all is fine until a familiar face shows up at your work with surprisingly benevolent intentions.

❀ pairing: jaehyun, taeyong & reader insert  || university!AU & stripper!AU

❀ includes: fluff, light angst, smut/suggestive content, alcohol mentions

❀ wc: 20.2k

❀ series: prologue – part 1 – part 2 – part 3 — ongoing

❀ note: Finally, jaehyuns character is introduced! i hope you guys enjoy this update—its a bit longer than what i thought it would be... ^~^; Also, i changed the title from “rumours” to “after hours” because it fits more!

It was another simple day for you, nothing too out of the ordinary occurring from your typical routine.

You woke on time for once and got ready for your classes, arriving on the dot and being attentive towards your lectures. You seemed like any normal, plain university student by pouring hours into your studies and mindfully completing your assignments the second they were given to you. You made time for friends and studies, an equatorial balance between the two factors to limit the daily stress. Though, that was just by day, of course.

Night time was another story. With your job that causes you to exhibit your charms, peculiar and repulsive to normal students, you were a completely different person when moonlight splashed onto the town. Rather than, during the day, where you would drown yourself in an abundance of books and passages, you would douse yourself and relish in the praise, cheers you retrieve during work. Instead of being quiet and close to your compact sphere of acquaintances, you were a few notches more vivacious and lively—the complete opposite of who you were at university. If any soul at your institute were to find out about the job you had taken upon after dark you were bound to drown in shame and embarrassment.

Speaking of your job, you were on the way to it right then. Your music was put on full blast, heavy bass vibrating up your body as you hearkened the pleasurable tunes, extemporizing lyrics. Immersing yourself in your favorable melodies was the only way you would fully prepare for the long nights you had to face—it was as if you were preparing for a grand event every night, hoping that the long drive and music would soothe your nervous wrecks.

You parked by the curb of where you worked and stepped out of your vehicle, only to become illuminated by the flashy, blue neon sign. Its artificial light splashed onto your skin, tinging it with aegean until you ambled towards the entrance to enter the dynamic confinement. The brief silence you had faced amidst your short walk to the doors was replaced by the blaring pop tunes that emitted from the high quality speakers within the area. You saw familiar faces and new identities within the first two steps of being ensconced by your workplace—the strip club.

Co-workers greeted you ecstatically with beaming grins as they were escorting certain patrons to private rooms, and others waved your way as you rushed your way past the sea of drunken bodies on the dance floor. Bartenders asked if you wanted a drink before you started your shift, each friendly and bodacious, but you shrugged them off. You tried your best to get to the back room as quickly as you were able to; you were already beginning to reveal your “uniform” prior to reaching the dressers. As you walked towards the back you eyed the elevated stages and smiled at other workers. The girls were dancing as if being orchidaceous was in their blood, twirling around the poles that reached for the sky before committing a stunt those mindlessly watching were entranced by. Patrons were hypnotized by the way the skilled dancers moved their bodies, and it was only predictable that they would reward them by tossing whatever large bills they kept in their wallet. One of the workers even crawled down on the stage and allowed a customer to stick a flimsy twenty into her thong—and that was when you looked away and reached the desired room.

You took a heavy breath of air once you found solace in a castle of privacy, your eyes closing as you finally felt free from the stuffiness of the club. It was like that every night: vivacious and wild; surprising for a Wednesday evening. Then again, this was just another night at your job at the strip club, Blue Moon.

You never thought that you would become employed at a strip club, of all places, but the offer was out there on a silver platter and designed for you to take. You were still in disbelief to how the result came out. It took a couple hours of sweet-talking with a good looking man at a bar for the scene to escalate, and it was the countless amount of shots you downed that had you giving him a glimpse of what heaven looked like. Though, despite those factors, it was enough for the man—the boss—Taeyong to gain a deep interest in you. Enough for him to ask you to work at his strip club within the span of knowing you for a single night. Perhaps he was drunk, tired—maybe even both—but he clearly remembered what he said the morning after when he called you on your phone to confirm your response.

Of course, you were reluctant but, you said yes. Ever since you accepted Taeyong’s hasty job offer the night you went out to Blue Moon, which marked four months ago, monotonous was the polar of what you life had blossomed into. Your schedule became packed and time managing only grew substantially arduous; you were making a plethora of money enough to bathe in, but stress was a mere consequence.

Instantly, you were a customer favorite. You were a fresh face among the typical strippers, and you had a natural talent like Taeyong had told you. Therefore you earned money faster than most. With the cash you merit from salaries and bills tossed to you on stage you were able to help pay for rent, sustenances, and fees for college. Financial status was no longer a firing issue you scorched yourself with and it was not a battle you and your roommate had to face.

Though, with the positives and negatives, there would always be one issue that disturbed you completely. It was a constant problem that prodded your mind: whether or not someone from the university would find out about your nightly job.

The thought of that was poison to your mind. You would be drowning in embarrassment, frowned upon by your peers, and you definitely did not want those who recognized your face to visit the strip club—maybe to just gain a laugh. It would be hard to believe though; after all, you were a completely different person at the university compared to who you were at Blue Moon. Appearance wise as well;  you took the time to fix your hair at night rather than quick brushes during the day, and you had to stack on layers of makeup for shows. It would be staggering if anyone were to identify you at such an unfamiliar place.

You began to pamper yourself at your designated section. You had your own miniature table aside the others, which you tried your best to keep tidy aside from the apparel you had worn prior to stripping off for your shift. There were no other co-workers inside the dressing room—you guessed the night was busy enough for everyone to become occupied. You were checking out your features on the vanity mirror, staring at your reflection as you made miniature touch ups. Afterwards, you removed your street apparel. You took off your jacket and tugged your white tee over your head, and amidst removing your shirt you heard the door open and close softly.

Without looking back you were already aware to who had entered: Lee Taeyong.

He would occasionally slip into the dressing room when there was no other workers present, ready to wish you good luck and praise you like a divine being. He was well aware how nervous you were from the job and he was always standing ready to ease you of your nervous jitters. In fact, he did that with all of his workers—with the special exception that he placed his hands solely on you in a loving manner.

“Evening, Tae,” you greeted him while eyeing your makeup, hoping everything was still intact.

Taeyong responded, and you can practically hear his smile as he spoke, “Welcome back. Ready for work?”

“I’m always ready,” you assured.

You were folding your clothes on the surface of the table, gaze casted downwards on the apparel. He caught your attention by placing his grasp on your bare waist, causing you to look at his reflection on the mirror. He still looked as dashing as he did from the first night you met him—he always did. You found yourself speechless whenever you looked at his face, it was as if you were stunned by his handsome features.

Taeyong grinned at you past his styled fringe. “You look incredible,” he complimented. His palm slid from your waist up to your chest, feeling the heat of your skin as he adored your half naked body. He pathed his palm down to your hips, tugging on your shorts as if he was suggesting something, and he was.

“You tell me that every time,” you informed him as if it was a scold.

Taeyong gained a light grip on your hips and swiveled your body around to have you face him. His face was close to yours, eyes giving the notion that he wanted to kiss you, but he did not. As many times as Taeyong sprinkled some of his charm on you, it was an occurrence you were never able to become accustomed to. “Because you looked incredible every time,” he said with a smirk.

You felt your face become hot and you leaned in, craving a peck on his lips, but he tilted his head back and avoided the desired osculation. You pouted at him and he urged you to exit. “Good luck out there,” he wished. “I know you’re going to do great.”

Your smile diminished into a straight expression, unsure of what to say towards his diminutive and hasty action. Perhaps Blue Moon was more packed than you thought, which caused him to prod you out of the dressing room and out onto the stage. Your sight fleeted from the door to Taeyong, and he read your anxiousness as if it was written on your face. “You’re an amazing dancer,” he added. “It’s just like every other night, okay?”

Well, he was not mistaken. From the amount of shows you had put up nightly—weekly—what you deemed as your worst performance would be enough to make the crowd lose themselves. It should had been like every other night, and you told yourself that until you believed it.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath; one, two until you were ready. You slipped out of his grasp and changed your shoes to heels, leaving on your shorts for one of your scripted acts. Taeyong walked out with you once you were ready, off on his own tangent the second he escaped the dressing room. You did not have a chance to say “thanks.” You watched him as you started to amble for an empty spot on the stage; your gaze was locked on his physique until you were no longer able to see him in the crowd.

It felt like the farther he had gotten away from you the louder the music became, and soon it was blaring in your ears as if it was a way to drag you to the reality of the situation. You tried to get into the groove, swaying your body as you walked onto the empty stage in a desultory pace, lights then moving to shine on you amidst the darkness of the club. Shit, the club really was crowded to everyone’s surprise. Some desperate patrons were walking to your section, excited to see you, as a recurring customer, and the act you prepared to dazzle the fresh faces. Though, in your eyes, they were nothing but shadows blending together as if the music and lights morphed them into one onyx mass. You kept your chin tilted high as you waited for the song to end, and you used the transition to strut down to your own pole, an artificial grin that was full of life plastered on your face. Immediately, you ran the show. You appeared confident, knowledged in the talent of exotic dancing, and captivated the crowd.

You walked circles around the golden pole with a loose grip around it. You started to roll your body on the metal, an arm soaring into the air. You listened to the song deeply, absorbing the feel of the bass, and became one with the beat. On the third beat, you tossed your head back, bending your body as your hair whirled around, and came back when you gained a proper stance. Both of your hands latched onto the pole and you had a tight grip steady, the pole glued to your seize, and you lifted yourself off the ground momentarily. Your legs kicked up and completed a half circle in the air, and when your heel-clad feet kissed the ground your body was bent over, your right foot in front of the other. You slid your right hand off the metal and sailed it to your ankles, to which you dragged it up your leg as you raised your body straight.

With your left hand still around the metal, you leaned back and grinded on the metal, tossing your locks back to steer them clear from your face. As your grasp remained strong you raised both of your hands higher on the pole and leaped, providing yourself with the perfect momentum to twirl your frame around the post, legs the farthest they were able to go in the formation of the splits. You went back on your feet and started to walk to the edge of the stage. Your hands started to play with the zipper and button on your shorts, and that erupted louder cheers to emit from the sea of late-night customers. As your eyes adjusted to the lighting you were able to make out a few faces and see arms waving in the air with bills and wallets ready in hand.

You turned around and animatedly stripped yourself of your shorts: you bent your body down and tugged the material lower, revealing the curvature of your ass that had your revealing uniform sticking to your skin, and you kicked the shorts to the side. You were unable to fight the smile that came across your face when the loud cheers merged with the blasting music. They were all for you, and you basked in the glory—the attention—and you decided to exhibit out to everyone what exactly you were made out of.

It felt as if the music had taken over your body and had its transparent strings wrapped around each limb, guiding you to prompt the perfect move that spellbinds the audience. And for one of them you climbed the pole, flashed a smile to the crowd, and held yourself upside down. Bills were tossed onto the stage like a shower of rain, and you were more than glad to dance in the storm.

After that, everything was a blur.

Among the faces darkened by the shadows of the nightclub, Taeyong’s was one of them. He was standing close to the wall, far away from the lively and drunken crowd that indulged in your sexual appearance. He was happy, glad to have someone like you onboard with the entire strip club business of his, and your improvement was prominent like a splash of color on a white canvas. It was only a matter of four months and you had improved immensely, more than several co-workers who had been under his care for a good year. Though, with that, some were envious and others were happy. Because a fresh face had gotten the rare opportunity to work alongside Taeyong himself.

Due to the amount of time Taeyong spent with you, aiding you with your process on becoming a better stripper, you two had grown closer with every time you met up with him. It was not like the empty closeness that had occurred on the night of the first encounter, but an intimacy that gained feelings along the way—which happened to be pesky for him. Taeyong knew he felt something for you that he should not had, and that was the admirable sentiment towards you. On the first night he had no intention of asking you to work for him. It was why he let the night carry on further, clouded by sexual hazes; as the owner of Blue Moon he told himself countless times to not associate himself with the workers that had returnable special feelings.

Maybe the night you spent sweet talking with him and inclining to a heated session in a private room was a wild card that no one knew about.

Even though Taeyong’s feelings were obvious, lingering in the air, he never voiced them once. Physical assurance after comforting words that beat around the bush was the only factor he was able to provide you, and you, who had an unavoidable attachment towards him, took whatever you were able to get. Hell, he was not able to even hold you in public. Every action of intimacy had to be done in a secluded area, mostly after hours past your shift—if you were not drained by then.

Taeyong had a delightful grin gracing his face as your performance came to a close; you were gathering what you could of the cash that flew on stage and stuck them into the waistband of your tight “uniform.” Then, you commenced your next act.

As the night extended you grew tired until your shift had finally ceased, and a sigh of relief escaped your lips from the arduous night. You were in need of a drink, perhaps Taeil would be able to stir something up quickly, but after checking the time on the wall clock once you returned to the dressing room, you had absolutely no time. There was an exam tomorrow for your literature class and it was nearing four in the morning, and your class was sharply at twelve-thirty. You rushed to toss on your clothes and shove the money made from the night into your bag, taking a hasty leave as if the club was poison. You pulled your hood over your head and started to speed to the exit of the strip club. Brushing by the bar, you noticed Taeil rubbing glasses dry as Taeyong was leaning against the bar, and you locked eyes with your boss until his being was covered by silhouettes casted by those drunkenly walking inside the club.

Before then he smiled at you and gave you a wink, the look that he saw your performance and was mesmerized like every other man in the crowd. You mirrored his sensual expression, and from his face you knew that the next time you returned to Blue Moon, there would be a present awaiting you—caused by your boss, truly.

You ran out of the door, racing against time to enter your vehicle and start it up, and shoved your belongings in the backseat. Money spilled out of your bag along with cosmetics and you rammed the key into the ignition, twisting it with force and started your commute to the apartment. Right, that was another downside to the job. Working late night shifts, sometimes right before the first light of dawn creeps over the city, and lacking sleep to stay attentive during extensive lectures. Yet the upside forever remains: making enough cash, and sometimes supplementary than desired.

Almost lackadaisical, you started to zip through the vast roads, quick enough for streaks of light to cast from your car, maintaining a quick speed as your tired mind tried to absorb the surroundings as a caution, and you finally made it back. Yuna was probably sound asleep, unless the early riser that she was had risen already with a cup of coffee. You moved with light steps and gentle movements to exit your vehicle and creep into your shared apartment. The squeak of the front door echoed in the apartment complex, and you bit your lip in high hopes of not disturbing her slumber. You found her knocked out on the sofa in the main room, her phone loosely in hand as she lived in her dreams.

As if portable, you moved easily through the apartment until you reached your room. You set down your bag on your chair and tossed your body in the bed, no longer able to find the strength to change out of your sweaty attire. Sleepiness inched to your being, your mind had slowed down as you sank yourself in the darkness of your comfortable room, and your snug mattress.

Sunlight seeped into your room past the cracks of your blinds, kissing your eyelids until a burning discomfort had formed. You groaned, mind groggy as you came back from your comfortable clouds of dream, and you felt as if gravity was holding down your body, along with your mattress wrapping its gentle comfort around your frame. To put it short, you were enervated. You were not sure how many hours of shut-eye you caught, but it clearly did not feel like enough.

You rubbed your eyes as you raised yourself from bed, your head turning in search of your phone to check the time. 11:22 a.m., it read from your small device. You were about to toss it down on your bed without a care, ready to spend a couple more hours in bed, until Yuna pounded on your doorframe like a frustrated guardian. “(y/n)!” she exclaimed, her voice booming and loud enough to rattle birds out of their nests.

You glared at her and tried to focus your vision on her face; it took a while of seeing double, but once you were able to look at her evidently you said, “What?”

Yuna was dressed in her pajamas still, her short ebony hair a complete mess like she had recently risen. “Get up. You have your exam in about”—she pulled out her phone to check the time—“forty minutes.”

“Exam…” you mumbled to yourself as if rehearsing the word would allow you to comprehend it. “Shit, I forgot! I wanted to wake up early to study!” you whined. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

Yuna’s eyebrows crossed together in annoyance. “I tried but you were knocked out cold. I’ve been telling you this for a while, but why don’t you change your hours at Blue Moon? It’s getting in the way of your schedule.”

You remained silent at her proposition. She was not wrong though; she had been pestering you every time you came back lifeless, nagging you by feeding the same three words of “change your hours.” Yuna was the only one who knew about your job at the strip club; she had been skeptical of the work since you broke the news to her, but she supported your desperate decision by the end of the day.

“I’ll think about it,” you mumbled.

“You say that every time.” She rolled her eyes. “Go get dressed. When you’re done with your exam we can eat out for dinner to celebrate or something.”

You dragged yourself out of bed and started to make your way to the restroom. “I have work later,” you informed, closing the bathroom door soon afterwards.

“Again?!” Yuna exclaimed with a petulant stomp. “God, I’m gonna take the car and go out for myself now then.”

Ignoring her words, you cranked on the shower and took a rinse. You started to prepare yourself for the long day, and brace yourself for the even longer night. In the shower you rehearsed the information from lectures aloud, hoping that it would stick to your mind by the time you take the exam like notes stuck on walls. You went through your routine and bolted out the door, waving Yuna goodbye as she entered the shared vehicle.

Your bag was weighing down your shoulders as you ran to the lecture hall, hoping to make it on time. It was a wonderful, convenient factor that your and Yuna’s apartment was comfortably close to the university—a ten minute drive or a fifteen minute walk would be enough to cut it. So there you were, bolting to the institute with the sun at its peak, completely out of breath within seconds.

You were drained, but why?

Right, because you worked later than usual last night and that took a toll on your body. You were trudging to get to class on time, feet dragging themselves down on the concrete as if shackles of dread were weighing at your ankles.

When you ran past the gates of your university you slowed your pace and caught your breath, head turning to see where the right path was to lead you to your class. Shit, what time exactly was it? Your arms were busying themselves by wrapping around your notebooks that you glanced at every so often and the main clock was nowhere in sight. You groaned and took a huff of air, pivoting your foot to the correct direction and started to run—well, run into a man with much force.

You dropped one of your notebooks onto his feet, fumbling as your face heated up from embarrassment and fear that you were late to your exam. “I-sorry,” you uttered, holding a hand to create distance from him. He took a step back as if he took into account your hasty action of keeping him away and smiled.

The man tilted his head at you with his eyebrows crossing together, almost as if he was studying your features like an intricate piece of art. “It’s my fault,” he finally said. He leaned down and picked up your notebook, scrutinizing the inked content on the paper. “Isn’t this the study we did on a piece by Wilbur?”

You hesitated. “We?”

The man smiled at you and handed you your notes. “Yes, we. Aren’t we in the same literature class? Why are you in a rush?”

You fluttered your eyes as if it would help you recall the unfamiliar face. You never paid attention to your classmates and you were typically one to work alone; you believed you had a general idea of who was in your class, but he rang no bell. Maybe he sat directly behind you, or even at the corner. “Are we?” you asked.

“Yeah, and—”

“Because we have an exam today and I’d rather not be late,” you blurted out, snapping your notes back into your hand.

The man looked at you in confusion; an expression that it was fresh news to his ears. “Ohhh,” he let out, finally understanding. “We do, but not for another”—he lifted his arm and pulled the sleeve of his sweater back, eyeing his watch momentarily—“twenty minutes. I was going to head over to the hall once I grabbed a quick bite with my friend. Want to come with? We can walk together as well—we’re going to the same place.”

You ran a hand through your hair, unable to fight away the stress that started to prod at your being. “Thanks, but I’d rather not.” You started to walk to class, annoyed with time running thin. “It might be twenty minutes of spare time for you, but it’s twenty minutes for me to cram.”

Before the man was able to protest you dug your nose into your accounts, trying to memorize the style of the outlines you created for old assignments.

“Ah, wai—”

“Jaehyun!” exclaimed a gleeful voice, cutting off his call for you.

Jaehyun turned his head around, recognizing his friend off the bat. “Doyoung!” he responded eagerly. Greeting each other with a mutual handshake, it took a few seconds until Jaehyun wondered why his friend was in front of him. “I was going to meet you at the cafe, what happened?”

“I got into a talk with some guys,” Dongyoung said, his eyes unable to meet Jaehyun’s as if he was a guilty party. He wrapped an arm around Jaehyun’s neck, pulling him in for a friendly embrace as he lowered his voice. There were not any other students around, but Dongyoung still remained cautious to hsi upcoming words. “I was looking for a new place for us to party and such and…”

Jaehyun cocked an eyebrow upwards, dubious. “And… what?”

Dongyoung chuckled, revealing a sneaky grin. “I found out about a hecka’ dope nightclub today. Want to check it out with me?”

Jaehyun laughed, not giving it any trace of thought. “A nightclub?” Jaehyun repeated, almost belittling the setting. “Doyoung, you know I’m not one for those.”

“Come on, bro!” he persisted. “It won’t be fun if I’m alone—you gotta’ go with me.”

Jaehyun unwinded himself from his friend’s embrace. “No thanks,” he said with a laugh. “But I’ll think about it. Maybe when I get extremely bored one day.”

Dongyoung grumbled. “You’re always occupied though. You’re either around your family, studying, or doing everything that isn’t fun. You just don’t want shit to come out about the Jung Jaehyun out partying at a nightclub.”

“Exactly.” He grinned.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

Your arms were glued to the table as your weary eyes diligently roamed the profuse textbook and notes; you tried to cram as much as you were able to prior to the exam. Being one of the first few in the class you heard the footsteps of stressed individuals invade the room, already horrified by the expected contents of the test—then again, what could anyone expect from taking upon one of the hardest classes the university had to offer? One by one more classmates had entered, and one of the final few just so happened to be the boy you ran into from earlier.

You do not notice him though, for you were far too busy stuffing pieces of information into your mind so you can later stick them together like a puzzle. The boy, on the other hand, had noticed you from the second he walked in. He stopped by the doorframe as if he was surprised at a new face, but he quickly ambled to his seat and waved hello to those that greeted him with a grin.

“Good afternoon,” he told the professor. She only nodded as a response, not looking forward to the exam as much as everyone else was.

Jaehyun brushed by your desk, obnoxiously close to you, but you were in your own world to pay the slightest bit of mind. He gawked at you from the corner of his eye, hoping you would wish him “good luck” on the test, or even wave, but there was nothing. He was almost air, blending into the thick ambience of the room. So, he sat at his desk in the back with a childish pout.

That was a first for him; he was typically the show stopper, the one that caused heads to turn and was able to make the atmosphere in a room come to a standstill from his presence invading the milieu. It was a natural gift he had, being the cynosure of the world like an extraordinary king, to be able to effortlessly charm and generate bonds with anybody as if he was creating houses of lego—then there was you; he was not able to even piece together two blocks. Not to be cocky or anything, but he was sure that everyone in the class knew of his existence, judging from how majority of his city did. He was a well-rounded man; name a talent and he probably had it—his grades were nothing to joke about either. He was the type of man boys wanted to be; the type of man girls craved to be with. After his legend at his junior high as a basketball star, his name went around the city and it was insoluble to believe that there was a person from the same area who was unaware of his existence.

Finally finishing your cram session, the teacher greeted everyone and notified them of the awaited exam. You released a sigh, eyes closing while you took breathing exercises—a habit you had whenever you got nervous. You closed your notes and textbook and brushed them to the side, smoothly twirling a pen in hand. You turned your head around the class in search of a distraction, and you found one: the boy you had ran into from earlier. So he really was not fibbing when he claimed to be in the same class; your face heated up from the sight of him and how you clumsily rammed into his body. You got a better view of his face, a clearer look of his features. He had on a black sweater and a vermillion beanie snug on his head; eyes starlike with a smile that never dwindled. You were not able to help but stare at his handsome features—not until he laughed, and then locked eyes with your own.

You gulped, tense, and faced forward as you twirled your writing utensil. You were not sure what to particularly think. His face, presence was so prominent from the seconds shared with him yet you never bothered to pay attention to the fact he was in your class. Then again, you never paid mind to anyone except for your small circle of friends that only consisted of Yuna and yourself. Your social sphere had only expanded recently, and that was because you met Taeyong at the strip club along with all the other workers—but no other soul was aware of them.

You pressed your lips into a thin line and once you received your test, you blocked out all intruding thoughts—or, tried to. You took the test with high focus, eyes reading between the lines of each passage. You took account all of the details of each excerpt, closing out the answers and options in your mind until the correct choice was prominently standing out. Swiftly and easily, as if your last minute cram session of twenty minutes had aided you pristinely, you zipped through the exam. Your wrist moved fluidly over your paper as you answered the free responses and short answers—everything was coming to you within a snap.

Soon, you finished the exam. You turned your head around to view the progress of other nearby individuals, and they were just hitting the halfway mark. You pursed your lips and stared at your paper. Alright, either you knew everything, or nothing—but you completed the entire test in pen and there was no going back to scribble or change your answers. You sighed and stood up, collecting your belongings in a silent manner to avoid creating a disturbance to your classmates. Some peered at you whilst taking their test, pondering how you were able to finish the exam in twenty-five minute’s time. And Jaehyun happened to be one of them.

Jaehyun was leaning forward, pen tight in his hand as he left a sentence unfinished to stare at your departure from the studious environment. Jaehyun, immediately recalling the scene from earlier, wondered if the same would occur if he spent the twenty minutes cramming with you. Well, not that he was unaware of the material on the test; he enjoyed taking his time absorbing the passages.

Your arms were tightly wrapped around your textbook and notes again and you handed the professor your exam with a shaky hand, then zipped out of the door. Jaehyun’s eyes were locked onto you until he was unable to see your physique from where he sat, which was when you turned sharply at the end of the small hall. As if that was a normal occurrence, he resumed his exam.

Seven minutes directly afterwards, he was the second one to finish.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

Outside of the lecture hall you stood under the overhang of the building, straying away from the scorching sunlight beating down on the pavement. You slipped out your phone and dialed your boss’s number, eager to hear his voice after the taxing day. As the dial tone rang and rang your eyes were scanning the surroundings, searching for miniature events or details to focus on until he picked up. After twenty seconds of waiting, it went straight to voicemail.

You held the device away from your face to check if you were mistaken and your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. That was a first; Taeyong usually picks up your calls. Perhaps he was busy dealing with business matters, or outside—nonetheless, he would answer. You hummed to yourself and opened the text window, typing a message.

You [12:52 p.m.] mind if i stop by early? i could go for a little stress relief

You stared at the screen for a while in hopes of seeing a reply pop up. You sighed. There was none to fulfill your aspirations and so you decided to take the long walk back to the apartment. You lounged for the rest of your day, excited for the night to arrive for once, and after the routine of tidying up your space and organizing your belongings (counting money, to be exact), you got dressed in a new set of underclothes you bought a few weeks ago—a jet black, laced lingerie with garters—and topped it off with a sweatshirt and jeans. You left your apartment early night, right when the sun was about to dip away and sleep, and checked your phone as you shut the apartment door. There was no sign of Yuna coming back, and there was a plain standstill in the atmosphere.

Oh, and Taeyong did not return your messages at all.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

There were many more hours until midnight, the designated rush period of the strip club, and you were making yourself comfortable at the bar that Taeil was trying to tidy up. Usually Taeyong would be lingering at the bar and conversing with Taeil until you arrived, but his presence was not there. You hummed, pondering if something peculiar was occurring. You watched Taeil wipe glasses clean until they each had a sparkle under the bright lights of the club. It was strange seeing such illuminations splash on the interior. Each section is brilliantly shined by all the lights the club had to offer, and it was almost outlandish due to the quietude. There was no music blasting from the speakers, no clusters of mindless chatter created by excited patrons, but a disturbing peace.

You were immersed in the way Taeil created a drink. He effortlessly mixed substances together and shook them vigorously within the margarita mixer. You pursed your lips in thought; he was probably creating a new drink. You were at Blue Moon enough to realize that when Taeil had free time prior to rush hour he would stir up dozens of combinations to find a new addition to the menu, or a hidden treasure to surprise certain patrons that asked. He dipped the rim of a recently cleaned martini glass in water prior to lining it with a red matter. Your eyebrows crossed together as you studied the drink. When he poured the contents into the martini glass an orange liquid filled up the glass and Taeil dropped in a few ice cubes to have it fill to the brim. He stared at the glass for a while, studying it the same way you were, and figured out the finishing topper. He sliced an orange thinly and stuck it on the rim.

Each time you looked at Taeil you could not help but wonder how a friendship like yours and his had flourished. What started off as an innocent night at a bar with hitting on his boss blossomed into a tight-knit relationship. If you were not at Taeyong’s side, then you would be found at Taeil’s bar, probably trying a new drink he was experimenting with. You and Taeil had invested quite a lot of time in just… talking—getting to know one another more like good companions. You guessed that time paid off, because now you had someone to complain until the end of time with about your stressful university life. Of course, after you downed an entire glass of potent.

Taeil grinned and slid the drink he made over to you. “Here,” he said. “A new experiment.”

You hummed. “Taeil, I know you love experimenting, but this looks… interesting.”

Taeil frowned. “If it looks bad, just say it,” he said as if it was a joke.

You smiled at him. “It just looks sort of… spicy?”

His frown blossomed into a bright smile, excitement sketching on his face. “Well, the rim is lined with smoky chipotle powder. But don’t worry, the drink is pretty sweet—it’s made with grapefruit juice and orange liqueur.”

“And?” You raised an eyebrow.

“And silver tequila,” he breathed.

You grabbed the glass and held the rim to your lips. “That’s what I wanted to hear. I’m going to be talking for a while until I work, so I need something to keep me going.”

“Why?” Taeil questioned, wiping the bar down with a towel. “Rough day? You could have asked for a harder drink—one with more kick.”

“No need, it’s just university talk.” With that, you took a sip. The powder that lined on the rim of the glass kissed your lips, providing it with a igneous sensation, and it was amplified on your tongue once it dissolved with a sip. There was a splash of sweetness that danced in your mouth and it was soon followed by the tangy citrus along with heat from the powder. Your face puckered, the taste overwhelming and far too strong for your taste.

Taeil watched your face contort in muddle. “Too strong?”

“Ah—way too strong.” You set the glass back on the bar and covered your mouth with your hand as if it would alleviate the blast of tastes.

“I’ll make you a new drink,” Taeil proposed. “Not an experiment this time.”

You smiled. “I’ll be here.” With the amount of time you had let until your work shift Taeil was capable of creating an array of experimental drinks, pestering you to try each one.

You tugged on the sleeves of your sweatshirt as you waited patiently, and your eyes continued to peruse the undimmed surroundings. Taeil eyed you a couple of times as he produced you your drink. It did not take him long for him to comment, “Now that I have a better, clearer look of you in the day, I have to say that you look really different than how you do during your shift. No makeup, hair’s a mess, and a baggy sweatshirt? I’m so used to seeing the makeup, perfect hair, and tight clothes—well, ‘uniform.’”

You were not able to help but laugh at his statement; he was right. To be honest, you hardly recognized yourself when you twirl in front of the mirror before going onstage.

“What?” he asked as he shook the cocktail shaker. “I’m just saying. It goes hand in hand with who you are when you perform. Come on, if you went onstage in that I would question everything.”

You raised an eyebrow, edging him to continue. “What do you mean by ‘who you are when you perform’?”

Taeil pursed his lips as he thought. He was still shaking up your drink and the motions had slowed down as he tried to recall certain scenes, moments—everything that would provide him with an answer. “It’s different,” he said.

You pouted. You would expect that after the amount of time he had spent to form a response it would had been lengthy, but all you received were two simple words you would be able to hear from anybody. Taeil poured your drink into a fresh glass, the familiar look of a translucent orange drink drowning the placed ice cubes. They bobbed to the top like miniature glaciers, each dancing by the sides of the glass.

“How so?” you asked him, waiting patiently for the alcohol.

Taeil stopped to think again, the glass resting in his hand. “Hmm… It’s like you give Blue Moon some spice—because let’s be real here, half of our co-workers are pure sugar.” Taeil noticed your intensive stare to the drink and handed it to you before continuing. “You uplift a lot of people here. Just having you sit at this bar is fine by me, and you’re fun to talk to. On stage, you put yourself out there with a smile that captures the whole crowd. You’re lively and move with excitement and joy. It’s extra-ordinary—and different.”

You stared at Taeil for a while, finally reaching a loss of words. It was not like you were stricken by the way he buttered you up with an honest compliment, but it was due to the fact that you were helplessly comparing the description of you at the strip club to the you at university. A loud, vivacious girl was someone you wanted to be a little more of in person. “I sort of wish I was like that all the time,” you said with a laugh.

“Well, why aren’t you?”

You took a sip of the drink, diving into its bursting flavor. “I don’t know. I guess I can’t pull myself to be who I want. Maybe I’m scared people I’m close with will drift away from me. You know, I’m actually not a fraction of who I am here compared to university.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, leaning on the bar to listen.

You pressed your lips on the glass and tilted it. “As in I’m more quiet, studious, and I only enjoy talking to those close to me—which is like one person.”

“Whoa.” Taeil took a step back. “This is coming from the girl who is loud half the time, never talks about uni here, and made friends with all the workers within four days.”

You shrugged, nonchalant and at a dead end for words.

Taeil bursted out laughing. “If that part of you walked into here, I’d question it completely.”

You smiled. “Tell me about it.”

“Then again, no matter who you are the people at this club are more than ready to accept you,” Taeil commented, going off on his own path. Typically when converse extended that long he would bust out his intellect, advice-providing side. “We know you for who you portray yourself to be, and you say you aspire to be this ‘you’ completely. And that’s the ‘you’ we all appreciate.”

Taeil turned his head left and right, scanning the area to see if anyone was near; then, he leaned in and lowered his voice to a whisper. “And that you keeps Taeyong’s temper in check.”

You grinned at the sound of his name. “I’m happy to hear that.”

“You’re still pretty and all, it’s why Taeyong has such a great interest in you and all—and all the other stuff that goes on.”

“Other stuff?” you queried. “Speaking of Taeyong, where is he?”

Taeil gulped and tilted his head; he then ignored your first question as if it were to be extra icing on a cake. “Probably taking care of business matters. Why? Miss him? He’ll be watching your show tonight for sure.”

“You’re talking as if he’s my boyfriend.” You rolled your eyes.

“Right, right,” Taeil dismissed. “He’s just our boss who has a large interest in you.”

You took another sip of his drink and rested, bored at the bar. Taeil then resumed organizing his station and co-workers started to appear by the hour. They became settled each in their designated spots, checking the schedule after making themselves comfortable, and some even stopped by the bar to chat with you and Taeil—and to get a kickstarter drink. But still, there was no sign of Taeyong. You checked your cell phone out of habit to see if he replied, but it was still left unread. Perhaps his phone died, or he lost it for the time being.

Two hours had lapsed and you drank enough alcohol for your thoughts to run wild. Coming to think of it, Taeyong was mysteriously distant with you yesterday. He practically pushed you away from him and urged you onto the stage, and the lasting image you caught of him was a wink as you swiftly exited the club. You considered that there was an outer factor that was finally making its way to the surface, but the horrible thought eradicated once you felt a pair of hands rest on your shoulders.

You turned your head to look at the person, the familiar face making your insides whirl with excitement. “Taeyong!” you exclaimed. “Where have you been? I texted you.”

“Really? That’s why I didn’t know you were going to be here so early,” he said. Taeyong looked up to the bartender, to which a mutual look was exchanged, and Taeil immediately started to create a drink. “How long were you here?” Taeyong asked you.

You waited until Taeyong sat in the barstool next to your own before responding with, “Not that long. A few hours or so.”

“A few hours?” he repeated, shocked. “Your shift isn’t for another few hours again. Why?”

You pouted, propping your chin on your palm. “Yuna took the car out and I didn’t want to be alone at the apartment again. I also just finished my killer exam and I need to find a way to rid of that stress.”

“And my drinks are the best way,” Taeil chimed in with a chuckle.

You took a sip of your final drink of the night. “You bet.”

Taeyong smiled and rested his hand on top of yours, clutching on it gently. “How do you think your exam went?”

You grinned at the feeling of Taeyong rubbing circles on your skin with his thumb, assuring you of your worries. It felt like those poisonous imaginative thoughts that pricked at your brain were all false, and that Taeyong was the same as always. Despite how peculiar the sudden ghost of his being was, it might had been one of those long, packed days. “Pretty okay,” you responded. “I can’t say for sure though. I was the first one done so either I know—”

“Everything or nothing,” he completed your sentence. It was not the first time you and Taeyong had that conversation. “Again?”

You smiled. “Yep.”

“I’m sure you did fine,” he commented. You waited patiently with his hand wrapped around your own for him to continue the conversation with another topic, but he did not even bother. Rather than acting with words he moved with actions—actions that told you his attention was elsewhere. His eyes were casted downwards to the ground and he moved desultory in crossed fancies.

Maybe you were not overthinking everything; something could be wrong, but you had not the slightest clue of what. You stared at him, still in hopes of an answer arising, but all you were able to catch was the sea of purple that pooled under his empty eyes. He had not gotten rest in a while, so it seems. His hair was nicely disheveled, a perfect morning look, and his attire was the same resplendent suits he loved to be extravagantly clad in. You pouted at the sight of his drained self, hesitant to question his well-being. Taeyong never enjoyed discoursing about matters that dragged himself down; he already felt like an anchor was heaving his chest down to the bottom of the ocean of glum.

You decided to not press on the evident vacantness of his face. “Let’s hope I did too.”

Taeil handed his boss a favorable drink and remained distant from the two of you, continuing to scrub the bar despite it being seemingly immaculate. He wanted to provide you and Taeyong with alone time to talk, but no words were exchanged. The only sounds that were being emitted from Taeyong were the gulps he took of the potent and the noise of him clearing his throat.

Typically, that would not bother you. But pairing that with the fact that he was barely able to lock eyes with you throughout the entire period of him sitting on the bar stool next to you—something was prickling at your mind.

It felt like the day you met Taeyong: two strangers sitting at a bar, only this time no one spoke.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

Once the rush hour rolled around Blue Moon was at its premier peak.

It felt like every other night: the loud, atrocious music, cheers from rowdy and drunken patrons, and bubbly laughter as if the noise itself was like a sparkling wine. Of course, you were in the dressing room taking your sweet time to prepare.

When you were standing in the dressing room to brace for your time on stage you intentionally moved slowly, stalling time to wait for Taeyong to come and speak to you, but no matter how much time you attempted to slip away there was nothing but your silhouette accompanying you. You paced the room in thought—what possibly was on Taeyong’s mind? And why did you care too much? You were never one to egg on someone to voice their inner thoughts and you rarely let petty factors like those bother you past a diminutive extent. Simply, you were worried.

You let out a sigh and decided it was time for you to get on stage.

You gave yourself a quick look at the mirror, turning in a circle to see if your outfit gained self-approval, and a smile tugged at your lips. It was supposed to be a night for you to forget about your issues, to drown away the thoughts of university, and now sink out the intoxicating prods of Taeyong. You began to walk out the dressing room and your hand wrapped around the doorknob, giving it a slight twist. Though, rather than revealing the darkness, a recognizable face was exhibited instead—and it was your boss, Taeyong.

You startled at the sight of him and the scene of ignorance from earlier intruded your mind, passing through the barrier you attempted to put up like a phantom. You pressed a palm to your face, annoyed.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

You felt a hand get pressed on your shoulder, and it dragged you back to reality. “I-no,” you stammered. “I was just surprised.”

“Surprised to see me?” Taeyong wondered. “You know I always stop by before every performance you’re about to do.”

You gulped, guilty at his words and unable to meet his gaze. You were not able to believe that you were about to lose faith in Taeyong—to assume that there was an outlier that was about to make itself present. He was right: no matter what type of night it was, inauspicious or positive, he would always take time to see you. “Right,” you huffed, incredulity evident in your voice. “Of course.”

Taeyong sailed his grasp down your arm, an electrifying touch, as the booming music filled the annoying gaps of silence. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” you queried, hoping he would push you back in the dressing room to spill about the details from earlier. Taeyong’s face remained the same.

“I was just about to wish you good luck,” he said to you while wrapping his hand around your wrist. “And I wanted to continue from yesterday.” He grinned.

You stared at Taeyong in a dashed confusion; the puzzles of the situation were not coming together as easily as they usually would. It seemed as if his episode of sadness from earlier at the bar had never occurred, for he spoke the way he normally would on nights like these. You forced a smile out and straightened your posture. “Did you?” you questioned him.

Taeyong eyed the crowd, his guard up for his workers that might pass by. His hand slid down to grip onto your own. “Yeah,” he responded with a breath. “I really do.”

You batted your eyes and shrugged, nonchalant to his susurrous confession. You slipped out of his grasp and took a few steps back, coming close to the steps of the stage. “Then I guess you have to wait.”

You turned your back to Taeyong, strutting to your designated part on the stage with a beam gracing your face. Tired eyes became excited from the sight of you, and the outfit you were wearing. The lights were indistinguishable, yet it seemed as if with every unpredictable flash of lights they were for you, blessing your body with the artificial glow that only drew out supplementary perfections. Your walk to the pole was enough to prepare the crowd for your first formulated act, and it was bound to be an eye-catcher.

Rather than starting off small by twirling around the pole for starters or commencing easy tricks, you dove straight into the main act by bending over, showcasing the perfect view of your for everybody to see. When you straightened your posture you gained a tight grip on the pole amidst, pulling with all your strength to lift your weight. You climbed the towering pole until you had enough room; your legs were compactly latching around the metal tightly, crossing intricately like a detailed weave. Then, you allowed yourself to hang upside down. Your hair cascaded over your face like curtains made of fine gossamer and a winsome smile tugged at your lips from the cheers of the crowd.

You had never felt such a surge of confidence wave over your being whist being onstage. Maybe it was the thrill of going out of your comfort box to pull a trick, or the sounds of motivation emitting from desperate patrons; whatever it was, it was your drive. Your body was exposed, almost to its fullest extent from your choice of outfit. Lace bodystockings ran up your frame, crossing in a sealed manner as if it were to shield your body—not that it was needed. Only your most treasurable parts were censored, and for Taeyong’s eyes only, and individuals screamed for it to be taken off.

Which gave you the perfect card to play: a tease that had the capability to kill.

Throughout the night you moved your body in such an expert and fluid manner, captivating the crowd and intoxicating their minds—having the same effect alcohol would cast, and they each found joy. Momentarily, you hoped that Taeyong would had saw you; you had the belief that he was watching; but under the onyx blanket of darkness of the club, no light illuminating the crowd, Taeyong turned his head away from the stage for the first time.

And as you were twirling, holding a steady grip on the metal and balance as you guided yourself in the air, you saw a recognizable face being illuminated by the fluorescent lights that adorn Taeil’s bar. It was Taeyong’s, and he was not even watching you. Within the following moment, he took one last shot of alcohol and began to walk to the exit.

It took an equal amount of time for you to lose focus and fall clumsily on the stage.

When you rose the following morning it was early enough for the birds to be singing their aubades to greet the incoming light. Last night at Blue Moon you did not remain at the club long enough for you to tire yourself; you took charge of the situation and went home around one in the morning. As you searched the club for Taeyong, avoiding patrons that beckoned you to them, Taeil informed you that he was no longer in the club. And when you asked when he left, it appeared to be right after the first act of your performance. The image of Taeyong slipping out of his own club furtively had the ability to raise a thousand of different, negative options to why. You had fallen asleep sorting those out.

You groaned and tossed off your sheets, peeling yourself away from the comfort of your bed and dragging yourself out of your room to say good morning to Yuna. When you glided your feet over the hardwood floor of your apartment, waltzing into the kitchen completely depleted of energy as if your body was a shell moving on its own, you found Yuna reading over her lecture notes and drinking a cup of coffee. The scent of freshly grinded coffee beans swirled together with the vanilla candles she had lit up not long ago, greeting you like open arms and kissing your nose. It was a calming scent, and an even more tranquil atmosphere that she had created to prepare herself for the day.

Yuna heard your silent movements of drill and looked up to you, surprise manifesting in her eyes. “You’re up?” she asked.

You frowned at her. “Surprisingly, yes. Why, what time is it?” you questioned, head turning to peer out the windows with its curtains pushed to the side. You attempted to study the outside with your vision still somewhat blurry, and you rubbed your eyes as if it would clear the picture. There was a gentle, early sunlight splashing through the glass, its illumination seeped past the canopy of extremely viridescent leaves and gave the apartment a golden glow. Bijou fickles of dust dancing in the air was visible, no longer transparent under the light. “It looks like it’s—”

“Almost eight o’clock,” she cut you off. “You came home early last night, didn’t you?”

You nodded, taking the seat directly across from her after pouring yourself some coffee.

“Did you change your hours?” she asked hopefully. Yuna took a sip of her coffee the same moment you did, relishing in the bitter taste she deemed to be homelike.

You shook your head. “I just left. I was tired and Taeyong wasn’t around most of the time.”

Yuna paused and blinked a couple of times. “You just left?” she repeated. Yuna was about to add in a comment, one that voiced her inner thoughts, but you beat her to the converse.

“Mhm,” you confirmed. “Things seem to be getting a little… weird lately. Or maybe it’s just me worrying about Taeyong.”

“What’s there to worry about?” Yuna pondered. “Oh my gosh, don’t tell me you have some guys chasing your skirt.”

You almost choked on your coffee. “N-no!” you exclaimed, pounding a fist on the table. The liquid in Yuna’s mug rattled from the force carrying to the object. “It’s just that Taeyong seemed so distant yesterday. And he isn’t like that.”

Yuna hummed. “I’m telling you, something’s off about him.”

“When did you ever tell me that?” you asked bitterly.

“Just now.” She smiled. “Do I have to go over and pay him a visit? I’ll”—Yuna lifted her first, shaking it in the air to make her threat indisputable—“talk some sense into that guy if I have to.”

You laughed, waving your hands dismissively. “No, no. It isn’t that serious—as far as I know. Maybe he was taking care of important business matters. Whenever he is distant he usually tells me what’s going on a few hours subsequent to the event. But he didn’t—yet. I’ll keep you posted if anything, you know.

“He just never responded to my texts, calls, and we barely kept up a conversation when we sat together at the bar. Taeil even left us some alone time, and usually things occur! But he wouldn’t put a hand on me, or even look at me. Though, before I got on stage he visited me and talked to me as if nothing happened. I wanted to assume it was one of those days where stress piles on and on, but my gut’s telling me otherwise.”

Yuna pursed her lips and took into account all your words. Her fingers toyed with the corner of her notebook as she attempted to draw out a reason for his actions, but even her, herself, found it suspicious. Or maybe that was her being biased.

“Well you should always listen to your gut,” Yuna said. “Is your gut telling you to slap sense into him? ‘Cause mine is telling me to just slap him.”

You rolled your eyes, amused by Yuna’s ability to turn a weighty conversation into an exchange of jests. “No,” you said with a smile, “it isn’t.”

“It’s also too early to act—especially on assumptions,” Yuna said. “You should try talking to him today about it. See what he has to say, and if he’s going to apologize. Your boyfriend has to be the bigger piece here at the start.”

You pouted, unwilling to be patient. “Seriously? You know he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Seriously.”

Yuna took a sip of her coffee and changed the subject, almost as if the topic of your boss was adverse. “Anyway, I have class in an hour. We should meet up later for lunch.”

You sighed, carrying on her thread of words. “Sounds good to me,” you said in response. When was the last time you and Yuna went out together? Either you were both at class, or at work—there was hardly any time for you two to linger around each other aside late nights in the apartment, where Yuna spent achieving shut-eye.

“Great, how does the bistro downtown sound?”

As if on cue images of the cuisine appeared in your mind, spreading itself out like photos on an exhibit. Your mouth watered at the thought of the delectable sustenance before you said, “I’m down. Remember though, I have to get straight back to class after we finish eating.”

“Of course, of course.” Yuna stood up and placed her mug in the sink, washing her hands before she walked to her room to get ready for the day. “I’ll meet you at the tables in front of the university cafe then. And by the way, you should wake up early more often.”

You raised an eyebrow, taking the final sip of your coffee. “Why is that?”

Yuna grinned, the sunlight catching in her pearly whites. “Because you seem happier.”

You remained silent as Yuna danced her way into her room, and the last words you heard her say were, “Change your hours, by the way!”

You laughed, the words you hear on a daily basis finally reaching you.

As Yuna left the apartment to head to class soon afterwards, leaving you alone, you bid her goodbye. You sat by yourself for a few more moments at the table to think. Maybe you were blowing everything out of proportion; you needed to give him a chance to explain yourself, and so you concluded to do so.

You leaned across the table slowly and steadily, blowing out the candle she had lit with a single gust.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

You spent the remaining time prior to the meetup with Yuna in the apartment, avoiding studies and the thoughts of work—to the best of your ability. You checked your phone, and there were still zero text messages from Taeyong; he was still busy, probably off on a business trip that he forgot to inform you about. Mindlessly watching television appeared to be the best solution to kill time until then, so you welled in the pool of boredom and found comfort on your sofa.

Only half an hour remained throughout your plain journey of surfing television channels, and you used the remaining time to prepare. You hopped in the shower for a quick rinse and tossed on a casual outfit; barely combed your hair; not a single ounce of makeup on your face. You peered at your reflection before you slipped on your shoes. To this day, you still remained amazed at how polar your being was from day and night; as if when it was after dark, there was a spell that casted upon you. Wearing flat shoes was a comfortable feeling you cannot get used to, for after dancing for hours in heels and walking around with four added inches was a factor you were accustomed to.

With that, you locked the door and began to amble to the university. The environment outside was serene, as if the mood that was set within the apartment had channeled itself outside. There were not many cars hogging the streets and creating traffic, hardly any pedestrians crowding the sidewalks. All you were able to hear were the whistles of the wind past canopies of leaves and distant conversations of those who were out for lunch. You thought to yourself, when was the last time your life was this unruffled? What used to be an everyday feeling for you had morphed itself into a foreign occurrence that you feel uncomfortable to place yourself in, not that the silence was unfavorable.

You walked onto the campus and began to make your way towards the designated tables Yuna had told you to meet her at. You kept your head low, eyes glued to the ground and occasionally upped themselves to see where you were going. You walked by two individuals, one of them appeared familiar, but you were too invested in avoiding an outsider’s presence to pay much mind; it was not like you were associated with anyone else anyway.

Well, you thought.

Because the man you brushed by happened to be Jaehyun. He was accompanying his friend, ready to get lunch with an empty stomach until he had seen you. After you walked by him like nothing, not giving the slightest ounce of your attention to the young star, Jaehyun’s head often turned over his shoulder to gawk your way. His friend, Dongyoung, was chattering endlessly about complaints of his basketball team—words Jaehyun heard everyday—and it withered to nothing the moment he saw you.

“...and then I told him, ‘Do a low dribble if you want to do a crossover! Get the ball to the other side like that!’ You know what he did, Jae? He just brushed me off! And then he tripped over his own ankles like he broke ‘em or something—hey, are you even listening to me?” Dongyoung snapped his fingers in front of Jaehyun’s face, setting off the lightbulb of attentiveness.

Jaehyun shook his head and grinned at his friend. “Sorry, bro, I was just thinking of something.”

Dongyoung frowned at him. “Spacing out for once—what’s on your mind? I’m here for you.”

“Ah—well, um…” Jaehyun began, fading away as he glanced back at you again. This time, you were sitting at one of the tables in front of the university cafeteria; it was an easy chance for him to talk to you while you were by yourself, if only Dongyoung was not on his back at the moment.

Jaehyun pursed his lips into a pout; he was unsure to why he craved to hold a conversation with you, maybe it was the charm that lingered around your being like fallen stars. All Jaehyun ached to do was catch one of them and store them in his pockets.

Dongyoung tried to see where Jaehyun was aiming his attention towards, and he noticed there was no one else occupying the campus aside from you and your shadow at the table. “A girl?” Dongyoung said in disbelief. “Seriously?”

Jaehyun laughed, nervous and borderline ashamed to the point he was not able to brush away his friend’s assumption. Dongyoung was ready to beat information out of Jaehyun, waiting for updates and details on the new girl in his life that, in his eyes, looked outrageously… plain.

But as Dongyoung’s eyes were fixated on your lonesome figure, he noticed another being approach you and take the seat next to yours, greeting you with a hug. Oh, and his heart skipped a beat. Dongyoung smiled, sharing a mutual expression with Jaehyun as his mind changed. “We can go head over to them if you’d like,” Dongyoung proposed, placing the idea out in the open.

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “You find her friend cute, don’t you?”

Dongyoung shrugged. “What can I say? Come”—Dongyoung patted his friend’s shoulder and started to saunter to the girls’ table—“introduce me.”

“Ah, but I don’t know them well en—”

Dongyoung forcefully pulled at Jaehyun’s wrist, lodging the words back into Jaehyun’s throat. Dongyoung’s grip was painfully compact around his friend’s arm as he dragged him across the campus; though, Jaehyun had done little to protest.

As they approached you, you and Yuna’s conversation appeared to escalate into something more on the personal side.

“So…” Yuna cleared her throat, preparing herself for the question that rested on her tongue. “Can I stop by later?”

You raised an eyebrow at her. “Stop by?” you repeated, clueless. “Where?”

“Blue Moon, of course.” Yuna rolled her eyes. “I haven’t been there with you for a good month and I think I’m in need of a lively night. Maybe I can yell at Taeyong while I’m at it,” she said with a laugh.

“Do what you want, it won’t be distracting me.”

Dongyoung stopped in his tracks at the name of the nightclub; it was the club he had heard a positive word about, trying to rope Jaehyun with him at the place. Dongyoung paused, surprised at two girls, who appeared to be the definition of listless, knew much about party places across town. You heard the sound of footsteps halting, rooting into place on the scorching concrete, and you turned your head to the gravelly noise.

You gave Yuna the look of peril, pondering if they had heard the brief talk of your work, or workplace. Yuna smiled at the two boys, attempting to play it off as Jaehyun mirrored her expression. “Um, h-hey…” he broke the tension. “How was the exam?”

You gawked at Jaehyun, debating whether or not he was trying to spark a conversation with you. It took a while, but you finally uttered a reply, “Oh. I think I did well.”

Yuna leaned in her seat, crossing her arms as if it were to be a defensive manner. She took a protective caution towards the two boys, skeptical of their presence. Dongyoung was the opposite: he sat himself and grinned at your friend, greeting her with a brilliant grin.

“That’s great to hear,” Jaehyun responded. “You were one the first to finish. I guess the last minute cramming really did work its magic.”

You keened at his comment, strangely flattered.

“Mind if I take a seat?” he questioned, gentlemanlike. He met gazes with his friend who shied away, already seated at the table without request.

“Not at all.”

Jaehyun took the seat next to you, intertwining his fingers on the surface. “I never caught your name from the morning rush.”

Yuna’s eyebrows crossed together in confusion; never had you mentioned a thing about an encounter with Jaehyun. And the look she gave you appeared to be vital, as if she knew details about him that you did not—like she was a protective elder sister.

“It’s, um, (y/n). I never caught yours either.”

“I—wow.” Jaehyun’s eyes widened, staggered at the news. Yuna pressed a palm to her forehead in disappointment. “It’s Jung Jaehyun,” he told you.

Dongyoung chuckled, the sweet sound enrapturing everyone’s attention. “That’s a first.”

Yuna’s lips quirked into a smirk. “Honestly.”

“And,” Dongyoung added, “it’s a first that I met someone as beautiful as you on this campus.”

Yuna’s face began to tinge in pink, affected by the new boy’s compliment. “Is that your signature pick up line?”

“Is it working?” Dongyoung asked, nervousness evident in his tone with trembles.

“A little.”

Jaehyun laughed and joined in on their fest. “You know the reason we came here was because Doyoung thought you were pretty.”

“Doyoung?” Yuna repeated. “Nice name.”

“Thanks,” he laughed. “It’s actually Dongyoung, but Jae has been calling me ‘Doyoung’ for ages—and hey!” Dongyoung pounded a fist on the table. “Don’t pin this on me. You know this would have never happened if Jae wasn’t staring your way, (y/n). He wasn’t even listening to what I was saying!” he informed you and your friend.

Yuna hurriedly shot you a momentous glance, wonder clouding over her.

You brushed it off, continuing to talk to Jaehyun like nothing, almost as if the event was a fixed part of your schedule. “About that one question on the exam…” you started.

You and Jaehyun talked about the test for a short period of time as Yuna and Dongyoung blatantly flirted with each other out in the open, making you hold your disgust in your chest. After the talk about the exam had passed it was an arduous chore to keep the conversation going on with Jaehyun. It was not like you did not wish to converse with him, you only did not know what to talk about. You sighed to yourself, annoyed. Why couldn’t you be as confident as you were after dark?

“So,” Jaehyun breathed, attempting to carry on. “Do you have any hobbies?”

“Ah, not really… I sort of just study all the time,” you told him.

Yuna laughed, intruding on the topic. “(y/n) loves to dance.”

“Yuna!” you exclaimed. She placed a hand over her mouth, her mind finally catching up to her mouth.

“Really?” Jaehyun said in interest, your appeal piquing in his eyes. “I dance as well, what kind of dance do you do?”

You gulped, hating the feeling of being in the spotlight for once. You were afraid to say the incorrect term, one that would tear down your lie in the future. “Uhh… contemporary,” you fibbed. “I don’t dance much though.”

“Contemporary?” he repeated. “I’ve always wanted to learn contemporary. Maybe you could teach me sometime?”

You laughed, nervous.

“Yuna,” Dongyoung let out, “let me walk you to class.”

“I actually just finished my class,” she informed him, pointer finger in the air.

“Really? What are your plans for the rest of the day then?”

Yuna hummed, steepling her fingers at her chin. “(y/n) and I were supposed to go out and eat at the bistro downtown, but then you guys showed up.”

“Ah, sorry about that.” Jaehyun smiled. You noticed that his eyes formed two crescent moons when he did, and a dimple that took the form of a perfect, bijou crater graced his face. “Maybe we can all go out together before the literature lecture.”

Dongyoung shot Jaehyun a cold glare, telling him to take back his words to not soil his plans while he can. “Oh…” Jaehyun corrects, “I mean—nevermind.”

Dongyoung smirked. “Well, Yuna, if you don’t have class today does that mean I get to spend more time with you?”

Yuna glanced at you, waiting for your approval to leave with Dongyoung, and you urged it with a wink. “I suppose it does,” she told him, standing up. “Any plans on where to go?”

Dongyoung rose, following Yuna as she took a leave. “I heard there’s a pretty sweet bakery that opened up not that long ago, would you like to go there?”

That was the last of their conversation you heard before they disappeared, leaving you and Jaehyun in each other’s tricky comfort. You sucked in your lips, unsure of what to say until Jaehyun said, “If you haven’t noticed, Doyoung’s kind of a flirt.”

“If you haven’t noticed,” you scripted back, “Yuna’s totally into him.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun agreed, “most girls are.”

“I’m not.”

Jaehyun shrugged. “I said ‘most girls.’ You’re one of the lucky few.”

Your eyebrows raised at his comment, obscurity sketching on your face. “Lucky?”

“Because,” Jaehyun led on, “it gives you chances with, um, other guys.” Jaehyun turned his head away, cursing at himself for making his interest limpid. Shit, it might as well be in the air. “A-anyway,” Jaehyun quickly added, not giving you a moment to respond, “do you know our next unit for the class?”

“Um, it should be on the syllabus, but no.”

He pressed a hand to his face, rubbing his temples in sheer frustration. “So we’re both on the same boat, agh.” Jaehyun twiddled his thumbs again, pacing his words carefully. It seemed as if he spoke with caution, afraid to say the wrong thing. “You know, my study offer still stands.”

“For us to study together?” you clarified. “The reason I said no was because I, um, I didn’t know you,” you fabricated on the spot.

Jaehyun smiled at you, assuring you of your worries. “Don’t fret, I’m not a creep. Did we not just spend the last ten minutes getting to know each other?”

“You’re a creep for staring my way,” you jested, giving him a light push.

Jaehyun shielded himself, chuckling. “It’s not my fault you’re beautiful.”

You stopped, the blood in your body now ice from his compliment that you were unsure how to take. You, in your pure, bare self—the person you display yourself to be at university—was attractive to a man like Jaehyun. “I… what?” you mumbled.

“N-nothing.” Jaehyun cleared his throat, shooting up from his seat. “We should get to class.”

“But it doesn’t start for another half hour,” you informed him, blush still evident on your face.

Jaehyun looked away, his eyes roaming the sky as he searched for shapes in clouds as a distraction. “That’s thirty minutes for us to prepare—study early, maybe even find out what our unit is,” he bit back, using your words from the first encounter against you.

You giggled, accompanying him to the class. “I suppose you’re right.”

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

Literature class was more of a bore than a bother. You were fully awake just moments ago, but forcing yourself to immerse your mind in the tedious class tired you out. You tried to keep your eyes open, head up to the board, but the more words that left your professor’s mouth and the further the passages went on, you got an urge to knock out. For once you achieved a desirable amount of sleep, but apparently that served no justice for the given scene. You had to spend each second being attentive in your lectures, for you hardly had enough time to study once you hit the apartment—and balance time with work.

Jaehyun was seated next to you for the lecture, making himself entertained from watching you prevent yourself from dozing off. Or maybe that was an excuse to look at you and your wondrous being. Jaehyun was not able to wrap his mind around it—whatever it was that made you stand out to him. You treated him like normal, like everyone else had not, and maybe that was the root of the orbit towards you.

You laid your head down on your notes, ready to get some shut-eye; that was, until you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You mumbled incomprehensible words to yourself as you slipped out the device. You held it close to your face, struggling to read the name that intruded your incoming slumber. It was probably Yuna screaming about her fresh date with Dongyoung, or maybe it was Taeil questioning if you wanted to try a new drink.

You blinked your eyes a few times to focus, and there you read it. His name was labeling the notification and it shook every ounce of fatigue away from your body, washing it away like a quick storm. It was not Yuna, Taeil—but it was Taeyong, and he finally found the time to text you. Honestly, throughout the duration of you sitting with Yuna, Jaehyun, and Dongyoung, the thought of Taeyong and his reason for being idle slipped from your mind completely. You were at a state of peace, facing serenity at its best like a normal university student. But everything came crashing down when you saw his name light up on your phone. You shot yourself up and read the preview message, hesitant to respond.

Taeyong [1:43 p.m.] Hey

Taeyong [1:43 p.m.] Are you feeling better now?

Your eyes darted from your device and to the board, unsure of what to tend to first: your notes, or the message? You swallowed your breath and felt sweat incoming. Jaehyun noticed your disposition, but remained silent, apprehensive to question it; instead, he watched.

He watched you unlock your phone to open the messages, catching a glimpse of the question asking if you were okay. Jaehyun thought to himself, was there anything wrong earlier? Because to Jaehyun, you appeared fine until you read the message. Jaehyun shook his head, ridding himself of the evocative thoughts.

Your thumbs glided over the screen as you typed a slow reply.

You [2:44 p.m.] yeah im fine. thanks for asking

Taeyong responded within a heartbeat; the opposite to what you were expecting with his recent peculiar behavior.

Taeyong [2:44 p.m.] Are you in class right now? I’d love to see you soon.

You [2:45 p.m.] you saw me yesterday

‘But you left,’ was what you wanted to add. It would change the route of the conversation, possibly plummeting the flow that you once desired. You bit your lip, annoyed from the lack of explanation given to his strange behavior and momentary disappearance.

Taeyong [2:45 p.m.] Sorry, i got busy.

Taeyong [2:45 p.m.] I just wanted to check up on you. Im happy to hear you’re feeling better about your exam now

You [2:47 p.m.] no need to worry, im sure i did fine. and i will later on too :)

You [2:48 p.m.] i found a study buddy

Taeyong was in the middle of typing a response until he read your message. Jaehyun was leaning back in his chair, his eyes peering at your conversation discreetly.

Taeyong [2:49 p.m.] Did you now?

You [2:50 p.m.] yeah :) why, jealous?

Taeyong [2:50 p.m.] I’m not jealous.

You grinned, finally getting the smallest bits of satisfaction you craved for.

You [2:50 p.m.] sure youre not

Taeyong [2:51 p.m.] Stop that. Youre going to work tonight, right?

You [2:51 p.m.] of course

Taeyong [2:51 p.m.] That means i get to see you

You grinned at his message; Jaehyun had the opposite expression, for he frowned. He assumed off the bat that you were texting a boyfriend, or someone of the sort—or perhaps it was a family member. Jaehyun sighed and rubbed a hand on his face, annoyed with himself for being nosy.

You [2:52 p.m.] and that you can make up for the time lost

You [2:52 p.m.] i also think you should explain some things to me

Taeyong [2:54 p.m.] Haha

Taeyong [2:55 p.m.] I have to go deal with some work. I’ll see you tonight

Your eyebrows furrowed together in annoyance. Just when you thought you were getting on the right path, Taeyong had waltz away from the trail and went off on his own tangent swiftly. You frowned and placed your phone face down on the desk, picking up your pen as you returned to the mindful note taking. You tapped Jaehyun’s thigh, catching his attention. “Sorry, I missed the last few moments. Mind if I see your notes?”

Jaehyun’s mouth parted and he stared at his paper, blank of the information you were looking for. He wanted to clout himself for being distracted mid-lecture to stare at you—to snoop around—but he cracked a nervous smile instead. “Oh, uh…” Jaehyun whispered, “The information wasn’t much. It was a quick review on outlining from last week—just a recap.”

You nodded, shrugging the idea to the side. “Great, thanks.”

The rest of the lecture was filled with Jaehyun’s thoughts running all over the place. It was as if a storm had arrived in his mind, striking down a bolt of thunder that consisted of one new scenario after the other. His curiosity hit its peak: did you have a boyfriend, or was it just some new information with Dongyoung? Why did he even care so much? Jaehyun pouted and tapped the tip of his pen on his notepad, diverting himself away from the lecture, and his brain.

When the class ended you were gathering your belongings, ready to bid Jaehyun goodbye, but the parting words eradicated when a couple of classmates had crowded his corner of the desk. They were familiar faces from your class but you were unable to pair their names with their physical identity; each was asking Jaehyun to hang out, catch a late lunch, or to even play a game of basketball. You stared momentarily before you attempted to sneak away from the scene, like a phantom passing through a wall going unnoticed, but when you were about to stand up Jaehyun latched his hand around your wrist, tugging you down to the seat.

“Are you going?” he asked, holding a hand up to the curious classmates that wanted to spend time with him.

You nodded your head, slipping out of his hand. “Yeah, I still have to, uh, meet Yuna to catch that lunch.”

“Isn’t she with Doyoung?” Jaehyun reminded.

You laughed, high-pitched and distressed. “Y-yeah, but she messaged me earlier. She wants to stick with our plans.”

“Ahh, I see.” Jaehyun frowned. “Well, go have fun! I’ll catch you sometime later—actually,” Jaehyun said with a grin, “how about we meet up later tonight to study?”

You gulped, gripping onto the hem of your shirt. You broke eye contact with him, darting it to the door. “Sorry, I don’t know how long Yuna and I will take.”

“Oh”—Jaehyun’s palm sailed back to his side, rooting it into his pocket—“that’s fine. We can meet up tomorrow?”

You tilted your head, puzzled to Jaehyun’s persistence. A fraction of you felt as if there was an attraction that was acting as magnet from him to you, and the other was in the sheer belief that he was a friendly being. After all, with the amount of love and support, friends and others, that stood by his side endlessly, it was hard to believe that people would stray from a pure heart. You thought about his offer, coming to the conclusion that he was unwilling to let you off easy, and complied.

“Sure.” You rose yourself from your seat, hiking your bag over your shoulder as you pushed in your chair. “We can meet at the library or something. Around this time, but I have to go before seven.”

Jaehyun’s face flushed with pink. “That’s fine. I’ll see you there.”

With that being the final note, you left the lecture hall and began to pace yourself to the apartment. You yawned, tired from the lecture, but you had an even more tiresome night awaiting you. Despite the amount of times you had to face Taeyong, see him nightly as a part of your routine, it felt as if he had been away for a good month. You experienced a normal, steady life solely as a university student, the strip club faded out as if it was a fabricated story, and it was peaceful. But the weight and reality of the job you had taken upon hit you like a freight train.

What were you to say when you see Taeyong? Would you act as if his absence and distance he, probably mistakenly, created had not played a factor? Or would you let your curiosity get the better of you and you would press questions like heavy weights on his shoulders? You scratched the back of your neck and wanted to forget about the world in the meantime, prior to your arrival at Blue Moon.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

Later that night, Yuna did not return to the apartment before you left; she was still out with Dongyoung according to her ecstatic text messages. You commuted to work, dreading to face Taeyong.

Though, when you arrived and greeted workers, Taeyong was nowhere in sight.

It was not until you left the dressing room in the back before your stage time for you to realize he had never stopped by the club—as he told you.

A week passed by and that was seven days of pent up frustration towards your boss, anger at Taeyong. You were grouchy for the most part, disappointed in his lack of communication towards you. Not only that, but Taeil and the other workers knew just as much as you did. You often found yourself at Taeil’s bar, downing every experimental drink he gave you to forget about your boss. Dancing became more of a chore; money was a reward by the end of the night, like always. It was hard for you to keep a top on your head to prevent you from blowing your scorn towards innocent individuals, and it was difficult for you to civilly complain about his behavior to Yuna without you going on an endless thread of negativity.

Each time Yuna heard you open your mouth a complaint about your boss was bound to fly out, and she was ready to batter on him.

Throughout the week, pushing aside the negativity of the strip club and Taeyong’s ghosting tendencies, Jaehyun’s body kept orbiting to you helplessly. He remained next to you during lectures, and the study sessions had continued daily—even if they were for a couple hours. Spending time with him aided your immersion into your studies, and it helped drown away the negativity you brought upon yourself. Occasionally Yuna and Dongyoung would amalgamate with you two for a group at the library—not to study, though. They would be in their own world cracking jokes about jestful pictures in tomes, or giggling at their susurrous jokes. Lunch would either occur prior to library sessions, or an early dinner afterwards; basically, you spent time with them as if you were all a tightly knit group of friends since birth.

Of course, it was difficult at times to converse with Dongyoung and Jaehyun, but you eventually eased into the scintilla of a crack of sparking decent topics. What was once extraneous blossomed into a simple task the more you learned more about them. A normal university student was what you genuinely felt like in their presence. Your social sphere had expanded, even if it was with two people, and it was still a monumental occurrence.

All was well in the day as all was insipid during the night. Though, that took a sharp turn the following day.

Just when you believed nothing would tarnish the pristine sphere of new friends, the tables had turned abruptly.

A text from Taeyong late-afternoon was all it took for your emotions to whirl into its own tempest. It was the first within the past few days—a request for you to come early so he can talk to you. It was the message you were waiting for, but it was from the man you were beginning to avoid.

Taeyong [4:22 p.m.] Hey

Taeyong [4:22 p.m.] Mind if you show up for work a little earlier today?

You stared at his text and looked up, noticing that Dongyoung, Yuna, and Jaehyun were occupied in their own world of books and facing mild debates of novels. Your head turned left and right, scanning the library like it was a protective caution before you proceeded to think—to respond.

You [4:26 p.m.] seriously?

Taeyong [4:27 p.m.] Is something wrong?

You [4:28 p.m.] you can’t just disappear for a whole week, be distant for two, and just ask me a question like nothing happened

Taeyong took a while to respond, almost like your text snapped his mind into its correct place.

Taeyong [4:29 p.m.] Sorry. Some things have come up and i had to take care of them. You [4:29 p.m.] like what? tae, you can talk to me. you know that, right? Taeyong [4:30 p.m.] I do, but i don’t think i should tell you now

Your lips dragged themselves into a disappointed frown.

Taeyong [4:31 p.m.] I’m really sorry for not communicating with you or anyone these past two weeks

Taeyong [4:32 p.m.] I took care of things on my own and i didn’t want to worry anyone

Taeyong [4:33 p.m.] I’ll tell you what happened later

Taeyong [4:34 p.m.] When things die down, of course.

You sighed, head hanging low as you thought about his burst of messages. You knew better than to assume the worst; you expected less to had occur. As the role you played in Taeyong’s life, you inconsequentially had to trust him and his choices—again. You fingers glided over the screen, ready to type a reply, until he interrupted your move with another message.

Taeyong [4:35 p.m.] Can you show up early tonight? Maybe we can catch up

You [4:35 p.m.] maybe? last time you said maybe you didnt show your face

Taeyong [4:36 p.m.] Okay, we can catch up. I’ll be sitting at Taeil’s bar

You [4:37 p.m.] sounds good to me

Taeyong [4:39 p.m.] Show up at around eight

You [4:40 p.m.] ah, i have dinner plans with my friend :( sorry tae but i can arrive right afterwards

Taeyong [4:43 p.m.] I’m asking you as your boss, not your friend. I’ll see you at eight

You froze, your device resting in your hand as you felt the weight of the final message of his impact you—hard. You groaned, slamming your phone on the surface of the desk before you dug your head into your arms. There was a void feeling swirling in your stomach that appeared to expand with every second you lingered around Taeyong. That was a first: his strict request. Typically Taeyong tended to be flexible towards you and your schedule, well aware of the fact you had a life in university and studies, but that appeared to not play a key role in his demand for you to show your face at work.

Something changed, but what?

The three friends exchanged agog looks with one another, each pestering one another silently to check on you. “Is… something wrong?” Jaehyun asked.

“No.” You shook your head. “Yuna, my boss told me to come in for an early shift tonight. We can’t eat dinner together.”

The smile that was etched on Yuna’s face had dwindled, alarmingly noticeable and frightening to the two boys from how quickly it diminished. It was like her blitheness was an act, a thin paper mask set up that was burned to ashes. “Seriously?” Yuna commented, annoyance evident in her tone. Her voice was laced with venom that was drawn out by your boss. “Do you have to go to work early? Isn’t he… flexible with your schedule?”

Your voice came out muffled from your head still digging itself in your arms. “Not tonight. Sorry.”

“But we had a reservation for that restaurant for two months!” she complained, slamming a palm on the desk.

Dongyoung and Jaehyun stared at one another, their presence no longer existent in the upcoming quarrel.

“I know.” You sighed. “Whatever”—you lifted yourself, straightening your posture as you organized your notes, ready to dive back into your studies—“it’s fine. We can go another day.”

Yuna’s hands balled up into tight fists, her lips pressed together tightly as if she was zipping her mouth shut to prevent the curses she was about to pour out. Throughout the week Yuna had heard your complaints about Taeyong, one falling after the other, and this appeared to be the final spark to break her fuse. Dongyoung placed a hand over Yuna’s, a simple action that he hoped to ease her worries. “Do you still want to go?” he asked her.

“Not really,” she mumbled. She slipped her hand out of Dongyoung’s and grabbed a book, resting it on her lap angrily as she read the passages.

Jaehyun and Dongyoung moved slowly with care, almost like the slightest cause of disturbance would whirl another storm.

The rest of the study session was filled with silence, no questions to be asked even if they were to be in regards to the classes.

When it became seven you and Yuna left the library together, stiff and wordless until you both reached the apartment. The tension was high, air far too thick to breathe in until you both left Jaehyun and Dongyoung alone.

“What do you think that was about?” asked Dongyoung.

Jaehyun shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe it’s just a tricky work schedule. Yuna seemed like she was looking forward to eating at that restaurant though.”

“I’d like to take her there, but she said ‘not really.’ God, well we have a night to ourselves again,” Dongyoung whispered while stacking his notebooks.

Jaehyun organized the novels they borrowed into a neat pile, ready to place them back on the shelves as they were going to take a leave. “To do what?”

“I don’t know.” Dongyoung chuckled. “Go out to the club?”

“Seriously?” Jaehyun forced a smile.

Dongyoung grumbled, sinking in his seat as another topic crossed his mind. “Man, Yuna is great and all but she doesn’t seem like much of a partier as I thought.”

Jaehyun stopped what he was doing to listen to his friend. “Why is that?”

“She doesn’t want to visit that one nightclub I was talking about with you—the one I want to visit tonight.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun uninterestedly, “Navy Moon?”

“Blue Moon, but close enough.”

Jaehyun picked up his possessions and shoved them in his backpack. “Is that much of an issue?”

“No,” Dongyoung said with a breath. “I just want to check it out because I heard it was sick. Hey, maybe we can meet up there tonight. I know for a fact you’re not doing anything tonight, and we’re both free.”

“You’re kidding me.”

Dongyoung shook his head frantically, replying speedily as if time would make Jaehyun change his mind. “Come on, please? I just really want to check it out for one night, and you have to come with. We haven’t spent much time together lately.”

“Yeah, because you’re always with Yuna,” Jaehyun pointed out.

“Well tonight I’m not. She’s so against Blue Moon. Do you think she has a bad experience there?”

“Why don’t you ask her instead of asking me?”

Dongyoung bellowed. “Well you’re like my bro, dude.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll let you know if I finish this work or not,” Jaehyun gave in. Dongyoung shot up from his seat, ready to bolt to his dorm to dress up for the upcoming night.

“Great!” He started to dash out the library. “I’ll see you there.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened, caught by surprise. “I said if—and you’re off…”

Jaehyun sat by himself in the library, Dongyoung’s leave not hitting him yet. “Maybe I can stop by the family office to occupy myself,” he thought aloud, voice almost a whisper, blending with the atmosphere. Jaehyun massaged his temples and stood up, returning each book to their designated shelf. Jaehyun roamed the library for a few more minutes, scanning the books the maze of shelves had to offer. He unintentionally found himself roaming the business shelves, finding one of the books called “Inside CEO Succession.”

Jaehyun stared at it for a while, his mind dangling off a thread at that point, and he released a sigh. “Maybe I won’t stop by the office…” he concluded.

It took a while for Jaehyun to give into Dongyoung’s words; he did not bother opening his book to study or finalize his notes. Instead he texted Dongyoung when he was on the way to the nightclub at a good nine o’clock, dressed finely in casual attire. He wore black jeans and an unbuttoned maroon dress shirt, comfortable shoes to top it all off as he waited outside the nightclub for Dongyoung. Jaehyun repeatedly sent Dongyoung texts, frequently called him periodically too, to question him on his whereabouts. Jaehyun was uncomfortably standing under the neon blue sign, looking like a fish out of water from the patrons that drove themselves in. Compared to the others, Jaehyun clearly had no place at a nightclub; hell, he was not even one to party anyway. What was he thinking on meeting Dongyoung at such a place?

It did not dawn on him until Dongyoung texted Jaehyun after what felt like aeons.

Doyoung [11:20 p.m.] sorry bro! yuna and i made last minute plans together. we’re gonna be eating good at that one restaurant, guess you can stay up late and study now!

Jaehyun’s expression remained niche, still as he read the text. What else was he going to expect from Dongyoung? The last thing he thought Dongyoung would do was bail on Jaehyun; then again, he never confirmed whether or not he was going to show his face at the nightclub. Jaehyun had a sour face at that point and he started to pace the entrance, facing a war in his mind to whether or not he should go inside. Jaehyun really was never one to party, but there was something alluring about the nightclub that made him take a step closer, and another step to get inside.

The bass that was audible through the closed doors was a song that wrapped its arms around his body, tugging him inside. Just to observe, he told himself, he went inside.

Jaehyun was lost on the spot, unsure of where to go. There were barely enough lights to illuminate the intended darkness of the club, and the amount of people that crowded the area was far more immense than what he ever thought. Heat had risen substantially; he began to sweat on the spot. He turned his head back to the exit, but it was out of sight, blocked by silhouettes like a trap set for him solely. Jaehyun gulped, anxious as he kept his fists rooted in his pockets. He started to roam the area, sticking close by the walls so he had a sense of place, and he walked by a block of light—a bar that emitted purple fluorescent lights.

The bar was full of men who were sweaty, each desperate to catch a refreshing drink, and a woman dressed in practically nothing who had her head laid on the surface as if she had passed out from a plethora of alcohol consumption. Jaehyun cringed and moved along, losing himself in the crowd as he tried to find the bathroom.

But little did he know, that person was you.

The familiar man who sat beside you placed a hand on your back, rubbing it in a comforting manner. You turned your head to face him, eyes still empty.

“I told you, you shouldn’t have taken those rows of shots,” he scolded, shaking his head in disappointment.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t need to listen to you, Taeyong. I know what I’m doing—I’ve been working here for four months.”

Taeyong laughed. “As if that changes anything.”

“And you were gone for like… two? Are you even my boss anymore?” you proclaimed.

Taeyong seemed to be openly perturbed by your statement.

“Why were you gone?” you asked him, almost yelling so your voice could be audible over the blasting music.

“I said I had to take care of business matters,” he repeated. “We talked about this when you came here at eight.”

“But you never went into detail,” you pointed out.

Taeyong’s hand sailed from your back to your hand as you rotated your body to face him, already sheening with sweat; it shined like moonlight over a river, enchanting in the same recognition. “It’s just that,” Taeyong said after a momentary pause, “it’s pretty hectic. Some workers are complaining, some ex-workers are demanding, and I have to pay off expenses for this place.

“But it’s nothing to worry about. I can tell you everything later. Probably not here, and when you’re more sober.”

“I am sober,” you hissed, trying to remain defensive enough for him to spill the truth.

Taeyong dodged your argument with a chuckle. “Not sober enough. Besides, you have to go onstage soon.”

“I have enough time for you.” You pouted. “Do you know how worried I was while you were away? How angry I was?”

Taeyong’s hand went to your exposed thigh. You were dressed in your uniform of the night, shielded by his coat barely draping over your shoulders. Your gaze casted downwards to his palm and you placed your hand over his own, stopping him. “Do you?” you asked.

Taeyong’s smile pulled at his face like puppets on a thread, forced and uncomfortable. His eyes were empty of the twinkle you once had seen and all that was left was a void, lonesome sentiment. “I’m sorry,” he told you, locking eyes with your own. His other hand soared to your face, the pads of his fingertips tilting your chin up for him to clearly see your face.

You turned your head away, his apology not cutting it. Disappointment was drizzling into the air, not by you, but by Taeyong. It was foreign for him to feel such negative emotions towards you; it felt like a fraction of antipathy was starting to form, almost like a slow-burn, and he wanted to place it out.

Taeil came back to the bar in front of you and your boss, setting down two shot glasses to occupy the stillness of the situation. “Not an experiment, just plain tequila,” he informed. “Drink out the negativity.”

Taeil laughed as he walked away, a towel in hand as he wiped his skin dry. “You should take one last shot before you go up there,” Taeyong told you. “Unless you’d like to stay here with me—and be angry.”

You took the glass and held it to your lips, tipping its contents into your mouth and downing it all with a gulp. Taeyong was by your side, the strip club had its typical tunes playing, but the burn that rose in your throat was the most accommodated feeling you had felt throughout the entire night. “Took the shot, but I’ll still be here with you,” you articulated. “I won’t be angry.”

Amidst the weight of your thoughts tumbling on you, you realized you had no reason to be angry at Taeyong tonight. He was not going to speak about the recent disputes—not while you were busy and borderline hammered—and you wanted to avoid steering clear of him. It was the first time in a while that he was sitting by your side normally, time on each other’s side for this shared moment, and you were putting it to waste by being angry over something that might be trivial, nothing to vociferate.

Or maybe it was something else; your mind was beginning to wither down to a jar of jumbled puzzle pieces for you to comprehend much. An attachment, perhaps—to what he provided for you?

“And I’m glad.” Taeyong grinned as he took the shot, the rim not leaving his curved lips. “How is university for you?”

“Great.” You babbled, “Yuna and I finally made two new friends and we just linger at the library a lot. We crank in study time and have fun—it’s sort of weird to be around others that aren’t the people in Blue Moon and Yuna. I mean our rent deadline of the month is approaching, but with this job we’re covered.”

Taeyong nodded and rubbed a hand on your thigh, inching closer each time he moved it upwards. “I see. Well, your payment is coming in a few days anyway.”

A suggestive smirk primed on your expression, your face tinging with the shade of roses. It was either the alcohol, or Taeyong himself—it was another one of those moments of obscurity you refused to deal with.

“That’s even better.” You clapped your hands together. “I’ve been waiting for it the way I’ve been waiting for you.”

Taeyong shifted in his seat, moving to the edge of the barstool. “Is that so?”

You noticed the way his eyebrow cocked up upwards, a fit of guffaws being kept back in his chest.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “You haven’t been here to wish me good luck before I go up on stage, you know? Like always.”

“I said I was sorry,” Taeyong mumbled, leaning in. “I’m here now, and I can wish you good luck here—like always. Do great out there, okay? I’m going to be here watching.”

His words that were supposed to make you feel at ease felt like the first: uncomfortable and forced. You smiled nonetheless, blaming your silence on the slow mind that was caused by the alcohol.

“You have to give me more motivation than that, honestly,” you ordered.

Taeyong narrowed his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

“What do you have time for?”

“Considering that you have to be on that stage within a couple of minutes…” The hand that rested on your exposed skin slid up to your garments, immediately slipping underneath the fabric to feel you dampening core. The action arrived quicker than your mind would had ever been able to catch up to. You hissed in a sharp breath, eyes fluttering closed from the familiar feeling of his fingers between your thighs.

You gulped, stretching your arm to him to gain a grasp on his shoulder. You clutched onto it with a little might, and he ran his digits up your wet womanhood slowly. Taeyong’s eyes scanned the perimeter as a cautious check to see if there were any workers nearby and attentive to his actions, but they were all busying themselves with the rush hour of the strip club. The intoxicated patrons that crowded the exuberant strip club had their mind elsewhere; it was enough for them to miss the fact Taeyong’s hand was up your clothes at that moment.

You brought the remaining pieces of your mind to focus on the sensation he was providing you—nomatter it being light, gentle. His digits slid into your pussy easily, your wetness coating his fingers evenly and sheenly. He started to pump them slowly in and out of you, setting the pace whilst building the speed. God, it felt far too long, but it still felt tremendously incredible. You opened your eyes slowly, like you were awakening from a deep slumber, and found his gaze elsewhere for a split second. And it was enough for the entire scene to tumble down like a poor house of cards.

You noticed something else—something different.

There was something divergent about having his hand up your apparel, his fingers inside of you. It did not feel the way it used to—it felt nugatory, almost like there was something else kindling his drive, and that the match that ignited your flame of excitement was no longer in his hands. You opened your mouth and exchanged the hot air with your lungs, calling his name as you exhaled. Taeyong appeared out of it, for he seemed to not hear you. It was not due to the music being its typical annoying blare, nor was it because of the ripple of cheers for the strippers that were supposed to arrive onstage at that moment. Taeyong was inattentive, his heart elsewhere—anywhere but by yours.

Yet his face was inches away, his hand in between your thighs.

You bit onto your lip and latched a hand around his wrist, halting the pleasurable sensation. When it ceased you considered allowing him to continue, just to get the kick you had longed for, but you ate your words. “I-I think I should go out on stage now,” you panted.

Taeyong blinked, comprehending your words whilst. “Alright”—he slipped his fingers out of you, wiping them on his pants—“are you sure?”

You nodded, tugging on your attire to fix it. “Yeah. W-we can continue this some other time—you’re still great.” you extolled.

Taeyong’s eyebrows came together in confusion. “I see. Thanks,” he responded. “Go out there and kill it,” he urged. “You’ll be amazing.”

You stood up and patted your clothes as if removing dust. His coat fell to the ground like a curtain drifting of its rod. He smiled at you again, empty and stilted, and you mirrored it back. You turned to the stage and started to pace to the entrance, a bitter taste on your tongue along with the sensation of unsatisfactory waving over your being.

To rush to the stage you weaved intricately past the crowd, accidentally pushing one patron, but before he was able to call out to you, you were gone. That man, however, had seen you. It was similar to a brief glimpse of a passerby down the street: their image not imbuing in their mind, but the general ideas of their features remaining like an early morning mist. He happened to pair it together with someone he knew—someone he met recently. And so he turned his head in a distorted confusion in search of the woman that was you.

Though, you were already dashing up the stage and making way to your designated section while the lights remained low, dimmed to the point of darkness on the elevated surface. The strobes were barely illuminating the bodies of your co-workers and you; it was not until the lights flashed on while each were ready to give the best show of the night—possibly of their life—for the identities to be revealed.

The brightness of the stage had caught the man’s attention. He clutched onto the sleeves of his maroon flannel and started to carve his way past the sea of people for a better look; the distance would serve no justice.

As the trendy music started to have its bass pump throughout the entire club, its drumline humming in the veins of each patron, you were equally moved. A decent amount of people gathered around your section, wallets or cash ready in hand.

You started off slow, easing into the rhythm and allowing it to consume you. There was a path that was being drawn by the music; you followed it as if it was the only thing you knew how to do. You were swaying your hips; soon, you gained a grasp around the pole. With one hand over the other you grinded on the metal in a desultory pace, building up the pace with each roll of your body as the exclamations grew. You made your clutch quite compact, soon lifting your feet off the home of the stage and kicking them in the air. Momentum was what carried your body through the air; you tugged on the pole while keeping your hands glued to the metal, like an inseparable magnet, and hanged upside down. Your legs were folding over each other as your hair fell over your face like thick drapes.

You straightened your body out, beads of sweat flying off your forehead. Your exposed skin stuck to the pole from the amount of dampness that was present, acting like an adhesive. You slanted your head, grinning to the crowd. Your gaze fell to the bottom of the stage real quick, making sure you had enough space for your simple trick—and you did. You inched a little higher on the pole and flipped back upright, landing flawlessly on your two feet, your hand at your ankle. You dragged your palm up your leg, skimming it over your thigh as you smirked to the crowd of shadows.

The mass became louder and you hooked your thumbs into the hem of your pnaty-short uniform, tugging on the tightness to give them each a tease. You twirled to the edge of the stage, bills of money being tossed towards you like a brief storm. You stuck a couple of the twenties inside the apparel and continued your routine. You bobbed your head to the rhythm and spun around the pole, setting your foot down with power to halt your momentum.

The lights flashed on you, giving you a fresh, colored glow. A smile quite similar to a dazzling star sheens on your face like efflorescence. You examined the wild crowd, glimpsing momentarily at their dashed faces as the lights began to fall on each one. Each patron you saw had their mouths wide open and shouting cheers for you to continue, others were waving their cash in the air.

But there was one that stood out quite disparate from the rest to you—not in a positive way.

While you were getting entangled by the glory stirred by the ebullience within the area, it all disappeared quickly, like the aftermath of a flash of thunder.

You narrowed your gaze to make sure, but no matter how much you wanted to believe in otherwise, the truth was there—in person.

Your eyes blew wide, mouth parting slowly as the news kicked in like a late rush of caffeine. Your mind was unable to fathom it.

There was a man in the crowd who had caught your eye—it was the man from earlier that you had unintentionally pushed out of the way to scurry to the stage—enraptured your attention, and you felt your heart shrivel up. Looking back at you past the brightness within the penumbra of the ensconcement of Blue Moon—with the same aghast expression sketched on his face—was none other than Jung Jaehyun.

[kansascitychiefsschedule]

What Is The Best Award Winning Djs. Program

Who Is The Best Award Winning Djs. Company

Kansas City Wedding DJ

Music Mania Mobile DJ

  https://www.musicmaniamobiledj.com/

Wedding event DJ can still suggest a great deal of different things. So, it is essential to keep your design and wedding vision top of mind. If you're more traditional and a fan of music from the 60s, 70s, and 80s, for instance, pursue a DJ who focuses on music from those years.

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Picture Credit// Pineapple Daybreak Photography Once you pick your top three DJ alternatives, contact them to make sure they're offered on your wedding event date first. If so, schedule a call, in-person, and even FaceTime appointment to talk. These conferences are your chance to get all of the intel you require to choose your wedding event DJ.

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What Is The Best Top Mobile Djs For Hire In Kansas City

Talking to potential vendors resembles going on an awkward first date you both hope there's chemistry, however it can be puzzling to understand precisely what to say (even for a Wedding Editor like myself!). Follow our brand-new "" blog series with specialists from each field who will break it down for you detailed.

Today, factors DJ Kev Sakoda from and Vito Namio at show you how to scout an incredible DJ.Determine whether they are a well-rounded, effective performer who can bring a level of competence and adaptability to your occasion. "You desire to ensure that your DJ isn't a one-dimensional part-timer, but a true performer whose had actually differed and comprehensive experience carrying out in front of different (and hard) audiences," said DJ Kev Sakoda.

Beware if a possible DJ bad-mouths previous clients (whether they're corporations or individual bride-to-bes) or their rivals. You Could Look Here at Kansas City Wedding Dj. My fianc Jason and I when fulfilled with a vendor who told us about an occasion that "wasn't his best work" because the customer was a substantial bridezilla! This made us question: Who's not to say he wouldn't whisper about that crazy-demanding web editor from Bridal Guide afterwards?Photo Credit: Muriel Silva PhotographyFind a DJ who will create a soundtrack for your wedding that is based on your design, taste, and vision for that day.

An experienced DJ will happily accept your must-play and do-not-play lists, no matter how brief or long. Namio informs his brides upfront that they are in control of the music that will be played and they require to assign time to work with him to guarantee smooth timing for their occasion." All of the abovementioned can just be achieved with a performer who is flexible and happy to listen.

g. cake-cutting and arrangement toss) and how it suits unique themes is the real obstacle," stated Namio. Photo Credit: Erin Johnson PhotographyThere are all kinds of incentives that DJs utilize to encourage visitors to storm the dance floor, whether it's asking couples to join the newlyweds for a good-luck dance or playing a meaningful throwback tune from the bridesmaids' college days.

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How a DJ strikes a balance to deliver on the couple's desireswhile still satisfying the guests' requestsdetermines the skill and experience of the DJ," stated Sakoda. Some DJs (with the approval of the newlyweds) may tell partygoers that they need to stick to their playlist, but they'll do their best to suit their song, while others will designate a bridesmaid or relative to evaluate specific demands (so that the DJ does not require to disrupt the new Mr.

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Backup equipment is also vital: DJs must constantly have the equivalent of a "flat spare" on hand, whether it be a microphone, computer system, mixer, etc. Don't forget to ask how soon prior to the reception they plan to show up and for how long it will consider them to set up. Picture Credit: Dash of Class EntertainmentThe noise differs considerably depending upon the room where your reception will be held.

What Is The Best Kansas City Wedding Djs

The sound on the microphones was so bad that the tech could not comprehend the garbled instructions through his earpiece!Namio suggests that brides ask prospective DJs if they can establish visits to go to such locations. "This allows us to end up being familiarized with new employee, learn their guidelines for suppliers, and strategy properly for providing the proper devices for acoustics and lighting style.

With these steps, they understand we imply organization," said Namio. Photo Credit: Dash of Class Entertainment" Our company believe choice is necessary: No 2 weddings are alike! You must have an option of top DJs that fit your design and character, and have the appropriate experience and ability for your wedding," said Sakoda - Weblink at Wedding Dj Kansas City Mo.

[modernart2012]

I Look at You (And See the Rest of My Life In Front of My Eyes)

for @clrac0​ Happy (belated) birthday gift, I hope you like it. Ily <3

Bakugou has feelings. They get completely out of hand. He can't say he really minds.

On AO3

Note: This is in the same Universe as “How Todoroki Enji Died”. It actually starts the three days prior to that fic (aka, the day Izuku and Shouto are caught kissing), and this fic clears up what Shouto was in a hurry to attend to.... [THIS IS THE WEDDING IZUKU MENTIONS AT THE END OF THAT FIC]

Many many thanks to @istehlurvz for letting me borrow her long haired! Post grad! Kirishima for a character design reference. Please go check them out, her art is so beautiful.

Many thanks to @sofour for the beta <3

Title from quote (same title) from unknown.

Those unmitigated fuckers. TOP HEROES DEKU AND SHOUTO CAUGHT KISSING. Bakugou set off a controlled explosion to incinerate the newspaper crumpled in his hand, then grabbed the nearest packet of gum and tossed a handful of pieces into his mouth because if he ground his teeth anymore his dentist would get pissed off and then Ei would be disappointed and fuck that shit it wasn’t to be borne.

“Aww, babe,” Eijirou smoothed a kiss to his furiously working jaw, soft affection that dulled the edge of Bakugou’s irritation. His hair was smoothed into a ponytail, his usual black tank exchanged for a more appropriate button up, and fuck everything ever Eijirou still looked hot. “Think of it this way, they’re going to be hounded by paparazzi nonstop now.” Well. That - that served Deku and Half-n-Half right. Eijirou beamed at him from over the back of the couch, and whatever he saw made him dip back in for a quick kiss, still smiling. The hair framing Eijirou’s face, too short to go back in his ponytail too long to be anything but a stylistic choice, tickled Bakugou’s cheeks like the edge of a soft crimson curtain. He scowled and Eijirou laughed, lighting up like he’d just discovered something new.

 “Shut the fuck up Shitty Hair.” Another kiss, to his nose, and even after so long it was disorienting to be the recipient of such unwavering affection. He chewed the wad of gum in his mouth harder, working off the ansty jangle of his nerves because there was abso-fucking-lutely nothing to be anxious about (yet).

 “I love you too Blasty.” Eijirou checked the clock, before jogging towards the door, “I gotta go, I’m gonna be late! See you after my shift!”

 “You’re always late, Hair-for-Brains.” Bakugou muttered. “Oi, hold up.” He grabbed the bento he had made earlier, then shoved it into Eijirou’s hands. “Come back safe, Ei.”

 There was that damned smile again, so damn warm. Fucking hell. “Will do, Katsuki!” Another kiss, and Bakugou cupped Eijirou’s face between his hands and lingered, knowing the feel of Eijirou in his bones after so long. They parted slowly, and Eijirou rubbed their foreheads together, brushed noses before disengaging. Bakugou clamped down on the need to go chasing after more, trail after and lick into Eijirou’s mouth, keep him here until the snarling, possessive, feral thing in Bakugou’s chest calmed and settled. “I’ll be home for dinner, promise.” Then he was out the door, ponytail waving behind him like a vermillion flag. He chewed his gum harder, discomfited and exposed, and tried not to think of the feel of that hair twined around his fingers like scarlet rope.

 He grabbed his jacket and bag, fired off a text to Round Face. Then he strode out of their house, purposefully, trying to leave his feelings in the dust.

  “You know, Bakugou, of all the people you could have called, I’d never have expected you to contact me.” Uraraka was a fucking menace, why the fuck did he call her again. He glared at the storefront, felt as she squared up beside him like it was another team up and the store was the villain. Oh right, that.

 “Shut the fuck up, Round Face. You’re back up.” Uraraka smiled dagger sharp and knowing, and Bakugou snarled since he knew that face and it meant whatever the fuck next happened it’d end up in the ear of everyone in the hero course before midnight. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and marched into the store, Uraraka right behind.

 It was immediately clear that he should never have trusted Yao-bitch on this, because this was an old school joint with it’s bright lights and velvet cases and customers wearing designer clothes that were worth more than his paycheck. He was about to turn on his heel and nope the fuck out of there, but the doorman stopped him, “Mr. McSplode. Welcome. We have your items ready for review. If you and Ms. Uravity would come this way.” The man gestured to a private alcove, and Bakugou had no choice but to follow the directive. He was going to give Yao-bitch a fucking piece of his mind when he was done here, fucking hell. “Haruhi will be right out with your items.” With a bow the doorman was gone and Uraraka was sparkling determinedly.

 Bakugou narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t.”

 Uraraka simpered at him, “Don’t what, Bakugou? Talk about the fact that you asked Momo for jewelry store recommendations, and have a special order ready?” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, “I wonder whatever you could have gotten?”

 He opened his mouth to fire back, who the hell was Round Face to play coy, but the shopgirl was coming and he didn’t need to make a scene in front a civilian. Uraraka leaned close as the shopgirl set out the display mat and her materials, whispered, “Let me be your Best Woman and we’ll call it even.” He itched to explode her face off, but old school store, civilians, and Ei would be pissed held his flaring temper in check. Also the fact he was sweating like he had just finished training and a miscontrolled explosion would send them all to kingdom come.

 “Here you go. Ms. Yaoyozoru was very firm that we follow the instructions exactly. It was very difficult to work with the meteorite, but the final effect is quite beautiful.” It better be, he wasn’t paying for crushed diamond and opal shards for it to look bad.

  Uraraka gasped as the rings were set down onto the velvet, the dark metal peeking through clusters and clumps of stone pressed into the surface. “Oh, they look like the night sky!”

 “Of course they do, Round Face.” He had designed them to be such, to sparkle like a thousand stars and planets, streaking across the surface like a million points in the galaxy. Bakugou picked up the closest ring, twisting and turning it under the jewelers loupe and watching the edges catch and reflect the light back in a riot of color, shot through with a dark grey betraying the metal beneath. Damn. He swallowed around his heartbeat, thundering in his throat. He was moving to check the engraving when the front doors of the shop blew in with a massive cloud of smoke.

 The screaming started immediately, all the posh civilian ladies screeching. “God dammit,” he growled as he automatically moved towards the entrance. Fucking civilians screaming, he could barely think with such shrill shitbags around. Uraraka was matching him scanning their smoke-filled surroundings, hands up, when twin clicks of guns made them both pause.

 With a dramatic whoosh the heavy smoke cleared unnaturally - shit-fucking Quirk - and a gun muzzle appeared not even 6 inches in front of his face. “Oh ho ho, what do we have here?” The robber smirked savagely, “Blasty McSplode and Uravity. We’re in luck, men. We’ve got bona fide heroes here as hostages.” This was the leader then. Fucking dick on a stick.

 “Fuck off dickheads, before we make you.” Bakugou snarled, mentally noting that even with Uraraka there he’d have trouble taking out 7 robbers, especially given the guns they were sporting. Two were already herding the customers, removing purses and jewelery by force, two smashing cases and dumping contents into bags, the final two blowing the safe doors with practiced ease. Bakugou shifted, only to have the leader firmly press the gun against his head. His other hand kept the other gun trained on Uraraka.

 “I wouldn’t do that, Mr. McSplode. See, we found a stash of those Quirk-erasing bullets from way back when, and I’ve been itching to try one out. Just to see if they work.” His voice dropped low, a sickly sweet coo,“One more wrong move and you’ll get the distinct honor of being my first test subject.”

 A glance at Uraraka showed she had heard too, and they both slowly put their hands up. “Good, good, we wouldn’t want any unfortunate accidents now would we.” The masks made it hard to pinpoint any major distinguishing characteristics, another point that made his fingers itch to grab their faces and detonate. At least the huddled mass of satin and pearls had quieted into subdued whimpers and sobs, but that was small comfort since it was only 10 in the fucking morning and this was already a shitshow. He had other things to get done today, and this was throwing off his whole timetable.

 “Ehhh, Blasty, this was supposed to be a secret right?” Uraraka murmured through the corner of her mouth, eyes locked on the barrel of the gun.

 “What the - ,” Bakugou began, only to be cut off by Uraraka nodding at the plate glass window at the front of the shop.

 “‘CauseRiotishere.” She let out in a rush, her discomfort slurring her back to her country accent. Bakugou risked a glance out the window. Eijirou was there, and while he looked calm and steady while talking with the police, Bakugou knew that look. Dammit, he didn’t need this too. He frowned significantly, then pointedly moved his eyes to the guns and grimaced.

 “Both of you! Shut up! Now!” The leader, who'd been yelling at the others to hurry up, turned back to knock them both across the face with the butt of the pistol. Bakugou rocked back, more from the force of the blow than actual hurt before whirling and tackling Uraraka to the floor. Just in time, as the plate window shattered inward; Ei had clearly gotten his message and was already at a higher than normal hardness, a midpoint between his regular and ultimate.

 There was a sudden outburst of gunfire, but the bullets bounced off Eijirou’s hardened skin ineffectively into a tinkle of metal against the marble floors in counterpoint to the return of the shrieking ladies. Bakugou knew this even if he didn’t look - there was a reason that Eijirou was called to deal with gun runners and it wasn’t his personality. He rolled to his back and aimed a kick at the knee of whom-the-fuck-ever was standing near - it wasn’t Ei and he gave zero shits after that to figure out who the fuck it was. When that shitwad went down he exploded their face to be extra sure they stayed out.

 Uraraka had done her job and had a few bodies floating on the ceiling, and Ei was dealing with the last three dickrags jsut fine. Bakugou took a moment to admire the sharp points of Ei’s shoulders and elbows , the plates that jutted out and promised pain to whomever was on the wrong side of them. Or right, in the case of the wicked claws on his hands, as they rake through a semi-automatic and shear the thing in two.

 The remaining two-bit thieves give up after that.

 This has pros and cons. Pro: the shitty sheep stop squealing. Con: Ei can now afford to keep sending him Looks. Pro: The shopgirl is now fucking free to take payment. Con: He and Uraraka have to give statements to the police, plus paperwork. Pro: The shop is giving him a generous discount on top of the Yao-bitch discount. Con: They’re being Very Fucking Loud and Ei is Suspicious. Pro: He’s got Ei right there. Con: Ei is right there. ... And he’s gotten a little busted up, superficially. The vaguest tingle of an idea molds, and he’s moving before he can think twice.

 “Oi, Riot.” Bakugou stomps over to where Ei is talking to some shit-for-brains detective. He’s got zero fucks to give that he’s interrupting, and minus infinity fucks that he’s pretty sure he’s about to do something majorly fucking stupid. Or not so stupid since Uraraka’s shot him a double thumbs up and discretely passed him a ring box on his way past. Fucking hell, he is going to have to make her his fucking Best Woman. “They were using fucking anti-Quirk bullets.” He ignores the way the detective swears, and keeps soldiering on cause if he stops then his heart may just give the fuck out. Whomever the fuck said his nitroglycerin sweat would keep him from having a heart attack was a fucking liar. “Even with Quirk, you gotta go see Recovery Girl.”

 Ei eyes him conflicted, that Look where he knows that Bakugou is saying something different under what he’s saying out loud and while Ei’s spent over a decade becoming fluent in Bakugou-ian, it’s failing Ei now and he’d appreciate a helping hand in deciphering things. “She’s at U.A. right now, and since we both need to get checked - “

 The detective waved them away. “Red Riot, Blasty, we’ve got everything under control and know where to find you for follow up and paperwork. We’ll send Uravity once we have all the villains in custody.” Right. The idiots still floating.

 “Ttch. Whatever. Come on Riot.” He stomped off, hoping Uraraka takes the other box, credit card, and his receipt. It's now or never, and if he sweats any fucking harder he's going to spontaneously combust, shit. He can hear Ei call his farewells, his clunky boots thumping against the sidewalk as he caught up to Bakugou, but he’s otherwise silent and it grates.

 The minute they’re completely out of sight and there are no witnesses, Bakugou pushes Eijirou into an alley. “Blasty - .”

 Bakugou throws up his hand, knowing that it won’t do much to pause Ei if he really wanted to know. He is not fucking prepared for this, and if what comes out of his mouth is Japanese it’ll be a goddamned miracle. “Ei. Fuck, I don’t know how to say this - “ his hands fired off a few small pops, and he snarled internally at the unconscious display of nerves. Ei might have had trouble earlier, but that was always a dead giveaway to his feelings. And fucking damn shit, wasn’t he supposed to be on one knee and presenting the ring? Bakugou fumbled out the box from his pants pocket and thrust it at Ei, trusting him to catch the fucking airborne box when it slipped from his sweat-slick hands and tumbled. His heart was thundering in his ears and his mouth was dry and time was going too fast. “Fuck.”

 He watched in terror as Ei opened the box, the way Ei’s brow furrowed then smoothed into surprised delight as he gazed into the little velvet box, and Bakugou explicitly wanted to flee screaming obscenities into the wilderness and never come back to civilization. He was pretty sure he could cut it as a warrior monk.

 “Katsuki. Katsuki - I- ,” Ei cuts himself off by fisting his hands in Bakugou’s shirt and kissing him wetly. Bakugou wanted to get lost in this, the feel of razor sharp teeth fitting into the scars on the inside of his lower lip and calloused hands fisted in hair, but he was going to fucking do this shit right if it killed him.

 He pulled back, control wavering as he pushed all his conviction into his voice. “Ei, Ei, marry me. Marry me.”

 If Eijirou had looked happy before, he was incandescent with it now. However sharp and animalistic his hero costume - fangs and all - made him, he was always so soft with Bakugou and it ached. If this is what it meant to love and be loved, then he could understand why people searched the world over for it. “Yes. Yes. A thousand times. Yes.” Ei choked out between gulping sobs, cradling Bakugou’s head close to his own, lips brushing.

 The ensuring kiss, chaste and soft and wanting was like landing a textbook perfect punch against a villain, the high of a excellent fight. Bakugou wanted to sink into Ei and hollow out a space there, stay warm and close and let Ei do the same to him, bind them both together until there was no discernable difference in where the edges of their souls met, bleeding and blending into one another in a continuous pool of them. He wanted more than anything to stay caught in this moment, to keep exchanging breath and kisses and this feeling of surety, of a compass pointing North and of home. It was broken by the shutter snap of a camera. Or rather, Bakugou snapped out of it but Ei kept kissing him and he was fucking sidetracked okay. Which is the only fucking reason Uraraka gets to chirp, “Annnnnd sent,” without him blowing her to kingdom come.

 Almost in the same instant both their phones began ringing, and if Bakugou’s phone insurance wasn’t exorbitant, it would have exploded the damn things and gone back to making out with Ei, company be damned. But, he’d exploded one too many phones and replacing them put a sizable dent in his pocket, so he kept mashing the end call button. Fuck Iida and fuck Shitty Nerd and fuck Yao-bitch, Pervert, and the rest of them with flaming pikes. He ground his teeth together and tried to recite that fucking sutra the damned monks had drilled into his head second year. It sorta helped, but fuck if he ever actually told anyone that.

 “Hey, Kastuki.” Ei brushed his nose against Bakugou’s cheek, whisper soft like the way he nuzzled close in his sleep, “Marry me?”

 “I already asked you that Hair-for-Brains, isn’t the answer obvious,” Bakugou sneered, but meant yes. It didn’t matter Ei would know.

 Ei was unfazed and pressed a sharp kiss, more grin than finesse to his mouth before returning to his phone. “Can you really get that done Yaomomo? Then, consider us on board!”

 “What are you getting into, Shitty Hair?”

 Ei smiled at him mischievously, “You’ll see, Blasty. Uraraka, can you get him to follow the directions Yaomomo is sending you? Thanks!” Then he ran off, chattering into his phone, leaving poleaxed Bakugou to a maniacally smiling Uraraka.

  By the time Uraraka had finished dragging him around town, it was past dusk and settling into true night. Bakugou was fuming, because he’d planned on a nice dinner, some of that shitty mood lighting Pinkie was always going on about, and maybe enough slow sex that they’d both be sore in the morning. This was not anything like that fucking plan. Also, who the fuck cares about the difference between eggshell and pure ivory in stationary? No one sane could tell the difference and no one sane would notice. It shouldn’t take that long to pick one and move the fuck on.

 Then he came home and Ei was missing, just a note and a cold plate of curry and rice on the counter. He gave a cursory glance over the note - to the point, that Ei would be dealing with some things until the day after tomorrow evening, but warm, using his given name like this was them paired like parenthesis under the kotatsu in the winter and Ei was fuzzy warm and solid beside him. Bakugou sent him a return mail while he warmed up the curry, a thin and sore ‘I’m home’ that didn’t encompass the way that he wanted Ei here to light up the kitchen, to kiss his cheek in welcome and to chide him about his teeth grinding habit. There’s also message on the answering machine where a harried Ei tells him - between bouts of yelling about cake - that due to circumstances he’ll be at Yao-bitch’s and to call her or Uraraka for anything that comes up.

 It doesn’t hit until the next afternoon when he’s juggling filling out paperwork at his agency and talking to his mother on the phone - who wants to know if she ought to wear a kimono or a western dress to the wedding, the invitations were gorgeous and so fancy but the date is so soon, everything must be so stressful, do they need any help with planning? - when it finally clicks that everything adds up to a single answer. He tells his old hag to wear something nice and look proud or whatever, and hangs up to call Yao-bitch for confirmation.

 They must be venue-hunting (and it sounds like everyone is fucking tripping over themselves for the Yao-bitch name) from the way a man in the background keeps pointing out perfectly normal features like ‘the finest floors’ and ‘windows! We have windows!’ like they’re going to make or break the choice. “Yao-bitch,” he snarled into the reciever when she picked up, “Is this wedding western dress only or should the old hag wear a kimono?”

 The lack of negation to the idea that there’s a wedding in the works tells Bakugou everything he needs to know, plus some. He lets Yao-bitch babble about clothes - he’s pretty sure she and Uraraka have conspired to get him into a tux fitting in an hour, given the timing - and then cuts her off, “What the fuck ever. Just, coordinate that shit or something.” He slammed the end call button, then stalked his way to the gym to go hand-to-hand against Uraraka. If he was gonna have to mannequin in some god-forsaken tailor shop for fancy clothes he’s only ever going to need once in his fucking life, he was gonna do so rank. Fuck if he’s gonna let people think he’s someone they can boss around like a shitty Deku.

  He woke up the morning of the wedding - it didn’t feel quite real, that it was his wedding, he was marrying Ei today and that the old hag and Uraraka had the audacity to wake him up at god-awful o’clock in the morning to answer the phone to talk to well meaning relatives offering blessings and good wishes. And he had to be fucking polite, all while Yao-bitch and Pinkie and Lightning Idiot and that other one in their class. What the fuck ever was his name?

 Uraraka thrust a mug of near-boiling coffee into his grip. “Have your coffee Bakugou, you’re grouchy without it.” Her smile made it clear that was an order not a suggestion, and Bakugou flipped her the bird before taking a long draught of the near tar-consistency substance. Whomsoever had tried to mess with his gourmet coffee maker and broken her bad enough she was spitting sludge had better be getting him a new one, fucks sake. He could stick one in the gift registry - did they even have a gift registry? Fucking shit on a duck, where was Yao-bitch or Glasses when you needed them? Who was even in charge of this shitshow anyways?

 “ONE HOUR UNTIL SHOWTIME PEOPLE.” Oh fucking hell, that one[1] . “Mon Dieu, Bakugou! This will not do! Come with me.” Bakugou was very much not going to go with Frenchy- that was hella suspect, alright. He had learned the whole “strangers-candy” thing early in his life and it had never failed him.

 Yao-bitch stuck her head in. “Bakugou, Aoyama is the one who’s going to help you get ready. The tailor had very specific instructions, and Uraraka has to get ready too as your Best Woman.” His Old Hag leveled a competitive smug glare from her perch, her black kimono pressed perfect and laying neatly and hair neatly styled, and Bakugou complied. The unspoken, I cleaned up nicely, but you can’t? was clear. It’d waste too much energy to fight with her now, plus, they only had one hour. His stomach was a ball of nerves, though he’d fight anyone who called him on it. He chugs back the partially-congealed contents on his mug, then slams down the cup and follows after that blonde one.

 “Let’s do this.”

  Miracle of miracles, Sparkly Frenchie got his hair to not look so unruly. There hadn’t been much to work with, undercut and all, but Bakugou had to admit he looked good. His hair was slicked back like the magazine campaign he’d done for a charity, the one where he was wearing a thin-enough-to-be-see-through white tank top and jeans and snarling into the camera, hands raised in explosive threat. The day that magazine had dropped he’d come home to a very enthusiastic Ei. Perhaps not the best memory for the occasion at hand, but still pleasing to recall.

 His charcoal suit fitted perfectly, as did the crimson red tie. He remembered how much his UA tie had felt like a collar, chafing and fucking choking him and this one sort of did too but he’d wear it just this once. For Ei.

 Uraraka poked her face in, hair done up in a fancy crown of braids and face smiling diabolically, “15 minutes, Bakugou. Time to go.” Fucking Sparkles swooned and sang out something in French. Why the fucker didn’t ever just use regular Japanese like the rest of the population was beyond Bakugou, but he breathed in deep instead. He wasn’t going to explode anyone before the ceremony was over.

 Yao-bitch and Iida were both there, prepared with headsets and clipboards and directing people like this was their day job, not heroics. Bakugou ignored the way his hands were sweating profusely, like he was about to storm a villain hideout not - not. Fucking shit, he was a grown ass man, he could say it -

 “Bakugou, you and Kirishima will enter from opposite sides after your respective parents and your Best Men - And Best Woman, I hope you’ve prepared vows, because Mic-sensei has informed me he’s ready to ad lib. All Might is here, but due to his current condition, we’ve placed the handicap access spot near the exit so he can leave if he starts feeling worse.” Yao-bitch checked her clipboard, then nodded firmly, “Of the invited, only Endeavor failed to respond and hasn’t come, Todoroki has no clue why, but he just got a phone call from his father’s agency and should know more shortly. But otherwise, everyone is seated and waiting, let’s get started.” Which. Fuck Endeavor, the self-important prick. This was the wedding of the century and he wasn’t going to come, even as courtesy. The unmitigated ass[2] . Whatever, Bakugou would just make sure to fuck up Endeavor’s shit accidentally-on-purpose whenever he got the chance.

 “Okay, Uraraka and Kaminari, go.” Oh, fuck. Nearly time. Yao-bitch’s voice swam in his ears. “Remember, slow steps. This isn’t a race.” Then a firm hand between his shoulders and he was being propelled down the red and gold candlelit path.

 If you asked him later how he ended up at the altar in front of Mic-sensei, hand-in-hand with Ei, and his parents and Ei’s parents and easily the top 100 of the heroes in Japan (give or take a retired 20 or so) in attendance, he’d have no clue. Nor would he have any clue what Mic-sensei is saying. Mostly he’s trying to pull his attention away from Ei, from that deep buttery grey and sharp red, from the low tie of his ponytail, the brilliant shine of his eyes, and the way Ei looked radiant. Why couldn’t this have been a traditional Japanese wedding, with the sake and the cups? Bakugou would put up with hakama for knowing he didn’t have words to say. But also, Ei was smiling at him like that, beaming like he would never be happier, and Bakugou knows from the bottom of his soul that’s what he wants to see everyday for the rest of his life. No matter that he was probably going to break his heart with the amount of wild nerves going on in his body. Bakugou was sure he was probably flushed red, but he didn’t care.

 Ei leaned close when it became abundantly clear that Mic-sensei was done - apparently Mic-sensei was on the “short and sweet” end of wedding officiants instead of the expected long-winded end, which was a surprise, but given the way he had been attempting to hide his tears this whole time, it might have been expected.

 Oh, shit shit. Vows time, fuck. At least they didn’t have to talk loud enough for everyone to hear, given the way Ei is whispering. “Katsuki, I had a whole speech prepared, but I woke up this morning and even though it’s been a rush to get everything together in time and it seemed like everything was about to fall apart, the only thing I could think of was you, and me, and that we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together. So, I promise, I’ll reach for you when you’re in need and stay by your side as your ultimate support, to journey with you in all the adventures that are to be had. I can’t wait to start this adventure with you.” And fucking Lightning Idiot and Uraraka have heard, going by the way they’re both fighting back tears. Mic-sensei is outright crying, fucks sake.

 He has to take a deep breath before he begins, because fuuuuck. He knows there’s tears pricking his eyes, and Ei has turned into a slightly blurry red and grey blur and fuuuuck. “Eijirou. Ei. When I think about the person I want to spend eternity with, it’s you that comes to mind. The person I would reach for first, lift up and carry, take on the world with. It’s you. It’s always been you.” It had to be you. He knows it’s short, too short, but what words are there to encompass the fact that there’s no other hand he’d ever reach back for beside Ei’s? No one else he’ll always run to first, no one else he wants to wake him from a nightmare and no one else he’d hold after one of their own. No one else he’d want to cuddle late into mornings when neither of them are on call, no one else he’d wake up early to prepare homemade lunches for. Ei’s his best friend bar none, but there aren’t words - or at least words he needs, because Ei, Ei knows. From the way Ei’s bottom lip is twitching, his eyes are sparkling and the softening corners of his eyes, Ei knows and it doesn’t matter he doesn’t have words to speak in front of people, Ei knows.

 Mic-sensei sobs something, and Uraraka is stabbing him in the kidney with her fucking hand, and oh right. Rings. Bakugou smooths a finger inside it just to be sure, and yeah, there’s the engraving. It’s easy enough to let Ei slip on it’s mate, return the favor and wait for Mic-sensei to collect himself. Attempt to collect himself. Blubber something. Fuck that noise, it’s close enough and will have to do.

 Kissing Ei has always felt like coming home, but this one feels new but also like forever. It’s not fair, to have crowds of people watching and cheering when Bakugou could conceivably stay here forever in this moment and go deeper, longer, if not for said company. The not so subtle kick from Uraraka tells him that’s it’s been too long for polite society anyways, and reluctantly Bakugou surfaces enough to flip her the bird over his shoulder. It mean taking his hands off Ei, but that’s easily rectified.

  The reception drags on and on and on. First the photos in this and that pose, with these people and not those people and just why. Then, the fucking reception line. Whomever invented reception lines ought to have been shot before the idea took off - who needs to thank everyone who came for coming? That’s what the hundreds of thank you notes he’d ordered were for. It’s all worth it when - due to Kaminari having butchered the electrical systems for the sound - Headphones, who volunteered, ends up skipping any performative dances. Ei only knows street dancing styles and Bakugou will never let anyone else live with the damned knowledge he knows how to properly ballroom dance. There’s no way they would have managed anything close to a “first dance” worthy of watching without practice. The only thing still moderately “traditional” is the fact there’s an open bar and an open dance floor. The rest of it - well, there’s a station near the buffet where you can record a speech, but Bakugou can’t care about that, not when Ei’s sparkling like a million fireworks have gone off inside him and set him alight permanently from the inside out. Still, all the conversations drag on and fucking on for a small eternity, all PR smiles and pleasantries, until suddenly Bakugou realizes there’s no one left he absolutely had to speak to for whatever reason.

 This means all the fucking shitty old fogeys have retired, and the only people remaining are around their age and completely fucking blitzed. It sounds like there’s a fucking fight starting, Uraraka shouting and Mineta shrieking and Shitty Deku trying and failing at stopping things from going to blows. Bakugou couldn’t care less. Headphones has taken back control of the tables from the pre-selected playlist, and is playing sappy sappy shit. “Hey, Katsuki, dance with me?” As if he’d ever refuse Ei anything.

 They’re swaying in place, the room a wreck and getting even more wrecked, and he can’t put any other word to his feelings but happy. It’s almost foreign, but this is also good, a new sort of steady Bakugou can find his footing on, bask in and grow in. Ei is singing along with the song, off key and smiling, and their bodies are entwined like two parenthesis smushed together, “I somehow find, You and I collide.”

 “Ei, are you happy?” He speaks without thinking, interspersed by explosions and crashing and he sees the way Ei’s brow furrows then smooths as he understands the question.

 “I’m incandescent.” Ei punctates his comment with a quick peck, smile smug and satisfied with mischief. “I get forever with you after all.”

 It hadn’t struck Bakugou quite until then, that weddings and vows and shit all boiled down to forever, but it feels right, to have a forever with Ei. A fucking lifetime of waking up next to one another, eating together, growing together, stumbling together. It sounds like something he’s only just now realized, but always known, or some other paradox. He doesn’t know where it comes from but he murmurs over the chorus softly, “It had to be you.”

 Ei softens, then tugs him off the dancefloor, carnage still being wreaked, “Come on Katsuki, let’s go home.” Bakugou lets him, willingly follows him out the doors and into the early morning stars and pale hint of dawn, and thinks that yes, this is a forever he could get used to.

[mastcomm]

Storming the Catwalk in an L.L. Bean Boot

It was the impregnable fortress of heritage labels. Behind its clapboard walls lay an unlikely grail. Let international designers like Junya Watanabe and Demna Gvasalia have their way with Red Wing, Filson and North Face. Nobody touches L.L. Bean.

Until this week, that is. Though scores of others had tried without success to breach the resistance of a staid and privately owned Yankee institution, in the end what worked for the Midwest-born designer Todd Snyder was, he said, a healthy dose of “Iowa nice.’’

Thus, for the first time in its 108-year history, L.L. Bean will appear on a runway, as a core element of Todd Snyder’s fall men’s wear show, the tent pole event of New York Fashion Week: Men’s.

L.L. Bean has had prior dalliances with capital F fashion, though these amounted mostly to superficial tweaks. Just over a decade ago, the company hired Alex Carleton, a designer named at the time by GQ and the Council of Fashion Designers of America as one of America’s best new men’s wear designers, to revitalize its fusty image.

Mr. Carleton, best known until then for the hipster bro styles turned out under his Rogues Gallery label, reimagined the L.L. Bean classics for a 200-piece men’s and women’s Signature collection.

Fits were updated. Minor adjustments were made to staples that remained so familiar that they hardly seemed to have been designed. Fleece linings and olive waxed-canvas uppers were added to Bean’s duck boots, rendered as knee-highs. A Matinicus Blue Rock pullover introduced at about the dawn of yacht rock was stealthily slenderized. Red-and-black buffalo plaid Maine Guide shirts were updated to suit the Paul Bunyan legions braving the pickle aisle at Smorgasburg.

Still, no one ever managed to coax Bean onto the catwalk until Mr. Snyder came along.

“I have to say, I’m shocked,” said Lisa Birnbach, the author of “The Official Preppy Handbook.” That book, which was published in 1980, had the distinction of exporting to a broader culture the sartorial folkways of what was once a wealthy Eastern elite. The book not only boosted L.L. Bean’s bottom line, but also fostered the creation of successful imitators like J. Crew.

“I thought putting a shawl collar on the Norwegian sweater was about as far as things could go,” Ms. Birnbach said.

For her, the notion of L.L. Bean appearing in a fashion week presentation amounted to “an essential conflict on a molecular level.”

“I mean, are they fashion or are they gear?”

The answer is neither and both, according to Owen Kelly, a vice president for the brand. “We are very loyal to our core customer and true to our outdoor ethos,” Mr. Kelly said. “But this is an opportunity to take our classics and flip them, push them forward.”

The risk lay in fixing what isn’t broken. For the fiscal year ending in February 2019, L.L. Bean reported annual net revenue of $1.6 billion, an increase of 1 percent over the previous year. The company’s board of directors then approved a performance bonus of 5 percent of annual pay for its approximately 5,400 employees.

Still the temptation was great, as Mr. Kelly said, “to put Bean in front of a different set of eyes,” although not in a way that would result in something resembling gold lamé Top-Siders

Of all the successes among heritage brands, few have exceeded that of the traditional boat shoe with white soles incised in a pattern of chevron grooves. Designed in 1935 by Paul A. Sperry (he got the idea for nonslip boat soles from the grooves in his dog’s paws), the Top-Sider was patented in 1940 and changed little across the ensuing decades until, in 2009, Band of Outsiders collaborated with the Sperry label on novel fabrications.

Almost instantaneously, the shoe became regulation footwear for urban consumers (subset: gay, male), people who likely could not tell a jib from a boom.

Sperry went on to collaborate with labels including Jack Spade, Noah and, most recently, the neo-prep brand Rowing Blazers on fashionable iterations of its utilitarian nautical footwear.

And, perhaps inevitably, these collaborations resulted in the appearance last year of Top-Siders with metallic leather uppers, a style that would have gotten you tossed out of the Hyannis Port Yacht Club back when John F. Kennedy (a Top-Sider aficionado) was racing his schooner across Nantucket Sound.

“We get offers all the time to work on collaborations,” Mr. Kelly said. “High fashion and luxury brands approached us, but we’ve never really dipped our toe in the water before.”

So, what changed for L.L. Bean, the quintessential Yankee brand, founded in Freeport, Maine, by Leon Leonwood Bean, in 1912? “Todd shares our values and our mission of getting people outdoors and into an active American lifestyle,” Mr. Kelly said.

For Mr. Snyder, the brief was simple. “Don’t insult them, and at the same time take them to a new place,” the designer said of the three-year run-up to this week’s show, and a collaborative process begun in the extensive L.L. Bean archive in Maine.

The results were culled from meticulously organized collections of old catalogs, blankets, hunting gear and garments from most decades of the past century (including some belonging to the founder, L.L. Bean, a notably natty dresser) using a method Mr. Snyder characterized as “forage, find, elevate.”

As in past collaborations with heritage labels like Champion, Mr. Snyder worked shrewd changes on the familiar by toying with proportion, patterns and context. “We did a suit in plaid, added plaid to the overcoats, took all these traditional men’s wear silhouettes and used the hunter camo and duck camo prints throughout,” he said.

He also supersized to Bibendum-scale the puffer vests that were a staple of every college campus in the heyday of preppy dressing. And that style, Mr. Snyder maintains, is due for imminent return.

His L.L. Bean partners and many others in the industry seem to agree. “We’re just at the beginning of a real preppy revival,” said Jim Moore, the creative director at large for GQ and a sometime consultant to Mr. Snyder.

“We joke around the GQ office that we’re not quite there yet,” Mr. Moore added. “It has to be just the right preppy, but you can feel it coming. You can feel that fog rolling in.”

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/storming-the-catwalk-in-an-l-l-bean-boot/

[martin9395]

Photograph Booth Rentals For Lasting Times For Wedding Celebrations And Also Activities - Tap The Services Of An Image Display Rental For My Wedding Event

Photograph Booth Rentals For Lasting Times For Wedding Celebrations And Also Activities - Tap The Services Of An Image Display Rental For My Wedding Event

If you are actually tossing a party and also you have not set up for any kind of image sessions, therefore your party will definitely be a big breakdown. A couple of years later on, you will definitely have no substantial minds of the gathering at all. This is just the cause why GIF photo booth have actually sprung up.

 The photograph booth rental confirm useful in a range of methods. These include birthday celebration celebrations, which certainly demand a stand where the friends and family of the birthday girl or kid might take some unforgettable photos. Whether it is the initial or the 50th birthday, a photograph cubicle rentals will definitely give you the opportunity to take some long lasting images that are going to keep in your cd for several years. This is why leasing cubicles come useful and inexpensive, therefore letting you create long lasting minds.

 This is actually specifically why you need some rental a picture display due to the fact that they in fact function in your benefit, allowing you to take definitely any type of photo that functions to your advantage. There are actually a lot more benefits that are actually guided along with picture displays. Only provide on your own the possibility to recreate all kinds of events through preparing a photograph booth that are going to make you believe excellent.

 If you are actually eager to set up for a photo display leasing, after that it will certainly give you an opportunity to devote your opportunity to perform all sort of amusing traits at the display. This is actually why if you remain in the mood to prepare your booth leasings, then this are going to work out every thing in your method.

 Consequently, if you remain in the method of considering any kind of type of activities, at that point ensure to utilize image booth services for they will surely function in your benefits. You will definitely manage to work in the direction of creating the ideal services which would most definitely provide you with the perks that will definitely give you the possibility to make use all sort of gain from the display leasings. As a result, why do not you get begun and also avail these benefits which will do you wonderful really good? Acquire started and also obtain photograph booth rentals!

 This year is actually truly the beginning of the wedding celebration image cubicle sensation. Photo Booth Rental have been actually around your regional buying malls for the longest of your time, but just over the last year an increasing number of couples are deciding to possess an image display service for their wedding party.

 Alongside this brand new acquired popularity, increasingly more photobooth rental vendors have actually emerged also.

 Our team've assembled a list of 5 points you ought to address along with the supplier that will definitely help you obtain the absolute best image display leasing to suit your demands.

 1. Abandoned time fees.

 Many firms will definitely supply you abandoned opportunity for a cost, if you wish to divide your photograph display rental time in to different time ports. If you had a 4 hr wedding photobooth, but desired it managing coming from 6 to 8pm, thus resume at 10 after supper until midnight, some sellers will definitely allow you to perform this while paying for 2 hrs of 'still time' which often tends to be actually rebated cost.

 If you can specially seek a time for them to come specified up the wedding event photobooth just before the expected begin time, talk to the merchant. If you needed the photobooth to become established numerous hrs prior to your guests arrive, some providers may demand you for still opportunity coming from the opportunity they end up specifying up until the start of the photograph booth leasing.

 2. Template styles.

 Will you manage to customize the look of the layout made use of for your photobooth photos? Lots of photobooth sellers may have an internal graphics professional who are going to partner with you to make the theme equally as you like it to match you and your future husband's individualities. You could possibly inquire to acquire as innovative as feasible, or to co-ordinate the palette with your wedding event colours of invites. Other image display providers might certainly not have a graphics specialist, thus you might be pushed to opt for in between some truly standard, cookie-cutter themes for your photobooth rental.

 Have a look at a few of the previous image cubicle rentals they have carried out before, and observe how other templates have seemed like before!

 3. Guaranteed up opportunity.

 They might also have a promise up time plan which would ensure a certain percentage of opportunity that your photograph display will definitely be operating appropriately throughout the rentals. If there is a complication, and also the image display does certainly not operate for a lengthy duration of opportunity, they may reimburse a specific amount of your package rate.

 4. Added digital duplicates.

 This will serve to ask in the event that you would like to have a duplicate of the pictures taken during the photobooth rentals. A lot of photobooth providers are going to post the evening's photographes right into an internet gallery. Inquire if you and also your visitors may download and install the higher settlement model of the image as well as if it will be actually ok for you to re-print or even publish all of them in various other online websites including Facebook or Twitter.

 Right now if you are actually chatting concerning the old institution or even DIY photograph cubicles where just pair of individual can rest on the cubicle or even the bench is actually simply horrible to look at then I may comprehend your problems. I would certainly not consider that type of picture booth for my wedding ceremony either. And also permit's not acquire in to the liability element of the DIYer's photograph cubicle.

 Prior to you book any type of photo display rental, make certain you have a look at the merchant's site. Look at the image booth design. Asked the seller a handful of questions. Is it constructed out of lumber? Is it effortlessly portable? Some merchants will certainly demand for idling charges (the quantity of opportunity the booth is sitting idle at the site) and some will certainly not. That all depends on the provider, staffing and exactly how difficult it is actually to deliver the booth.

 Currently the following concern that new brides commonly inquire is actually, "Why do I require an image display if I presently possess a digital photographer?". Effectively, that is actually an excellent question! The digital photographer's job is actually to grab all the priceless seconds that takes place on your wedding celebration time with the groom and bride being actually the subject matter. Sometimes, he/she could snatch a few gos of the attendees which's it. The picture cubicle's project is to take hold of pictures of all the attendees that attended your wedding ceremony. Certainly not when they are chatting or even fantasizing however when they want, stimulating and also pleased! One point I've discovered during the course of our picture cubicle leasing was actually just how everybody genuinely had therefore a lot fun taking their pictures. The pictures shows the uncooked feelings of joy - folks having a good laugh, hanging around anxiously due to the laser printer for the picture to cultivate, or even celebration in teams to judge their most current experience in to the picture display. Photograph display rental is a huge appeal each one of our services.

 The best point about the picture booth is the feeling of impulsiveness. There is actually no freelance photographer telling you how to grin, exactly how to stand up, or even that your smile requires to become a lot more 'legitimate'. From the moment your wedding ceremony attendee pushes the touchscreen keep an eye on up until the four pictures have actually been actually taken, the very most outrageous, enjoyable, and also humourous points could be actually caught onto film.

 Our company also get to find the purest feelings of passion showed in the photographes: a team of close friends, stuffing themselves into the photograph cubicle to help make the silliest skins achievable. - creeping in to the photograph booth for their millionth kiss all together.

 Lately we participated in a quite sophisticated occasion at Caesar's Windsor, our team caught a number of these emotions onto video recording.

 An image booth rental is a terrific way of incorporating a distinct touch to one of the very most big days of your life- big day. It can easily make sure that the time is actually not merely remarkable and also enjoyable packed for you yet additionally for your visitors. You may commemorate the attractive moments of your lifestyle through these image display services. Funny faces, laughter, cutting-edge posses can all be captured and also always kept for a lifetime. A special photo memory of your guests could be caught and blessed as gift to all of them. Bride-to-bes in these times are actually selecting the image display services instead of the conventional forms of photographers as it incorporates exciting and also an interesting aspect in the occasion. It prompts innovative minds such as photographs forever.

 You can easily hire the image cubicle rentals online for making your wedding event an excellent hit. You can easily pick from different shades -black and also whites and also vibrant tinted for an ever before long-term influence. You may also pick the image visitor publication for your guests where they may leave behind a personal notification along with their pictures. These photo cubicles are elegantly designated according to your taste as well as style of the wedding ceremony. You may have limitless variety of images of your D Day without shedding a hole in your wallet.

 You can go for vintage or even the digital appearance of the image cubicle rental for your wedding ceremony. You can possess these extraordinary types cubicles for a classic feel of the booth. Digital cubicles may be worked with by the techno sensible folks, these booths are incredibly light weighted as well as mobile phone.

 Are you having a celebration or even other activity and also yearn for to add some exciting and exhilaration for your visitors? Lots of folks make use of picture booth rental solutions as a technique to incorporate an added component of fun to their activity. With thus several of these companies out there, it may be actually quick and easy to end up dissatisfied along with the service or even pay too much for it. When making a decision where to rent photo cubicles coming from, this post will certainly inform you three ideas concerning what to appear for. Apply these suggestions and also you will undoubtedly more than happy along with your choice of a rental business.

 1) The initial point that you ought to take into consideration when selecting a rental business for your party or occasion, is that offers your area. You can possibly do an on the web hunt and locate lots of providers, however you need to make certain that they give their services to your metropolitan area prior to you go any even further, or else you are actually squandering your opportunity. A lot of business will have this information on their site or perhaps in the summary of their Google Places listing or even on one more online business directory site.

 2) Another variable to appear into is what styles of picture cubicle rental bundles the company uses, and whether or even certainly not one of those deals is actually effectively satisfied for your event. At times photo booth solutions only give either small, or even very huge packages.

 3) One of the very most necessary traits you must look at prior to tapping the services of a picture booths provider is their internet reviews. It is actually so helpful to look at what others possess to claim regarding any sort of given firm prior to creating a decision to employ all of them.

 There are several photo booth services to decide on from, how perform you work with the ideal one? You prefer to see to it that your visitors entrust to moments that they may cherish permanently. The best safe and secure method of accomplishing this end result is by having a picture cubicle rental at your approaching event. Despite which photo cubicle rental you opt for, it is vital to keep in thoughts the actions below. This will virtually favorably ensure your ultimate adventure.

 Experience Counts

 Carries out the business that you are actually leasing your cubicle from truly possess the adventure needed to create your activity unforgettable? It takes an accurate professional to recognize all your crucial information coming from a different scenery factor. There is additional to your activity than merely images. This implies creating moments that will definitely last a life time. Will you on-site specialist get along? Are they clothed qualified? Will they provide on every little thing that they vowed? Merchants may make or break an event, so it is crucial to know that their record may truly determine the excellence of your activity.

 Room is Always a Factor

 Will the company be actually capable to transfer the picture display inside your hall? Most essentially, exactly how a lot of people will fit inside the cubicle? A trusted picture display rental business will definitely be capable to address all your inquiries, while still giving you insight on areas to setup.

 Layout: Unique or even Blah

 Some business produce their picture booths out of thin plastic while handful of possess a sleek hand crafted display from discolored hardwood to guarantee the ideal quality. I am certain you perhaps prefer to stay away from the photograph displays that look properly, mallesque. The style of your picture cubicle can likewise incorporate beauty to your room.

 Picture Booth Rental

 Your event is actually not dull, as well as your photograph booth need to not offer you that atmosphere either. If the examination photos are foggy or printing on thin paper, after that their devices may be substandard. The photo display rental business you pick should suit your design and also finances.

 When our experts plan any events, events or our wedding ceremonies, our experts regularly want them to be fun-filled, amusing and also be actually ever cherishable for our beautiful visitors. As well as, for this we begin a bunch of considering way just before the planned day and also attempt to leave no stone unturned. Adding fun to an event could be elegant as well as extremely simple with photo displays readily available for leasings.

 These picture booths are actually ideal for a wedding event as well as allow your visitors to take pleasure in as long as they can. Totally loaded with lots of functions and props, these guarantee that your gathering is a favorite and your guests possess a smile when they leave.

 Here are actually a couple of reasons there is actually a surge in requirement for picture cubicle rentals:

 - They keep your visitors entertained to the greatest throughout the celebration and also they actually appreciate it.

 - There are no regulations and disturbances, hence permitting you and also your attendees to be comfy.

 - You never recognize what people are actually up to when they enter into the booths. These displays can easily emphasize innovative edge of your guests regardless of their age and attribute. Make sure that they will produce the greatest usage of it.

 - You can truly observe the exciting edge of your guests. Crazy and also epic looks that create you laugh till your tummy injures. Imaginative looks, silly faces as well as funny positions, humorous video recordings and shuck and jives are what you receive in completion.

 - There are numerous modifying alternatives which you may obtain from an excellent photograph booth to improve your picture top quality. You can incorporate some days or even quotes as well as offer them to your guests so that they may don't forget the time forever.

 - Photos created coming from these displays are really higher in settlement as well as print premium. Present these photos to your guests as yield presents as well as they will certainly always remember the time for life and also thanks.

 - Play the video clips in funeral pace as well as find how everybody found there turns in amusement. You should certainly enjoy the reactions to these funeral pace video recordings. You may quickly replay these videos on the monitor delivered and also enjoy.

 - Photo cubicles include lots of props that could be utilized while taking images as well as online videos. No requirement to provide any type of instructions; your visitors understand the very best way to all of them.

 - Along along with all these you get smooth copies of the video clips and pictures, each fresh duplicates and modified ones. Share all of them online with your pals and develop coffee table publications. You will certainly also get mobile appropriate images for your phones and also tablets.

 Renting these picture displays for several parties and also events have come to be common as well as a scorching favorite of both attendees and also ranges. Featuring these displays in gatherings are the absolute best means to incorporate exciting and amusement to any kind of celebration. There is a significant demand for photo cubicle service for weddings. Certainly not simply guests, however the couple may likewise appreciate inside the booth posing wildly and generating online videos. Prints of pictures hit are actually produced in concern of minutes as well as make attractive profit gifts. These image cubicles are the most effective moment creators. You can easily gift your visitors a remarkable expertise.

[michaelfallcon]

The Sprudge Coffee Guide To Vancouver, Washington

What do you think of when you think of Vancouver?

For most Sprudge readers, wherever they might be in the world, the first thing that comes to mind is a teeming Canadian metropolis, a land of creative opportunity, disappointing hockey, and ever-rising rents. But there is another Vancouver: the city of Vancouver, Washington, located directly across the Columbia River from Portland, Oregon. (It may or may not be a suburb, depending who you’re asking.)

There’s a growth and cultural development phase underway right now in Vancouver, Washington, which owes in part to the exponential growth of the city of Portland over the last decade. Families and companies drawn to the region are looking to Vancouver for more room to grow, and this includes coffee shops.

Today Vancouver has that small-town feel, with big-city options for specialty coffee. A common thread seen throughout these coffee shops in this city is the feeling of community. A lot of people in the city have lived here for decades, and there are also quite a few newcomers into town with the recent population increase.

We tend to view coffee shops first and foremost as destinations for quality coffee, but here in “The ‘Couv,” many coffee bars extend their services beyond the normal call of duty. Whether it’s providing a collaborative space for the community, or educating customers about coffee, the following coffee shops have many dimensions to them that allows them to be staples within the wider Vancouver scene, all while serving a fine cup of coffee.

Relevant Coffee

We’ll start with Relevant Coffee, an established local Vancouver favorite. Relevant’s original location was a quaint 425-square-foot shop with a dedicated daily clientele, but in early 2019 the brand had the opportunity to move into a much larger new location, offering some needed elbow room. Their near-2,000-square-foot location is a sun-lit, welcoming space, home to both a full-service coffee and roasting facility, anchored by Relevant’s Probat L-12 roaster. Along with their new cafe floor plan, you can find a “plant island,” which is where their foliage is housed. The island was originally supposed to be a ball pit, but that plan was tossed.

Whether it’s their sourcing or cupping sessions—or a roaster housed behind transparent glass windows—Relevant wants to provide a shared experience within their space. This serves as an open invitation for customers to ask about coffee, and everything involved. To reinforce their mission of serving the community, Relevant has made an effort to partner with local companies and their products outside of the coffee shop. This means you can find Relevant around Vancouver in the form of coffee beers, cocktails, desserts, and even chili.

Relevant Coffee is located at 1703 Main St Suite A, Vancouver. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

  Presso Coffee Co.

Building off of the success of their original location in Portland, Presso Coffee Kitchen opened a second shop in Vancouver in early 2019, offering up seasonal toasts, a modern approach to interior design, and specialty lattes. Along with social-media-ready product and branding, Presso delivers on the quality front, roasting their own beans and serving coffee at a high level in two states.

The location in Vancouver has an expanded menu, which allows for more creativity. Here you’ll find drinks like the Mint Mocha with a toasted marshmallow, or the Salted Caramel Latte with a chocolate-dipped, pretzel-crusted rim. Whether it’s the bigger location in Washington, or the more intimate setting in Portland, the same ambiance and service will be found in both places.

In what appears to be a city-wide trend, Presso utilizes their space as a touchpoint for those in the neighborhood. From hosting community nights, tech meetings, and photoshoots, Presso opens their space to create a camaraderie for people of all ages that extends beyond state lines.

Presso Coffee Co is located at 13011 NE Fourth Plain Blvd Suite 106, Vancouver. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

  Compass Coffee Roasting

Here’s another brand with locations in two cities. Compass Coffee is a staple in the Vancouver coffee community, proudly roasting in Washington and offering this coffee at a smart cafe across the border in Portland.

The interior of the shop is beautiful, all-exposed brick and suspended light bulbs. There’s a long table in the middle of the shop, which encourages communication with other guests. Conversely, there are a number of single seats along the window to enjoy the view outside. Regardless of where you sit, Compass Coffee provides a comfortable atmosphere.

Founded on the idea of balance, Compass makes it a point to rotate in different origins of coffee into the shop, so consumers can be exposed to different regions. Whether it’s Burundi Kazoza, or Ethiopia Yirga Cheffe, Compass’ top priority is to tell the story of these coffees.

Compass Coffee Roasting is located at 817 Washington St, Vancouver. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

  Kafiex Roasters Coffee Lab

Located next to Esther Shore Park, Kafiex Roasters occupies a popular corner in downtown Vancouver. Prior to opening their shop, owners Matthew and Seidy Selivanow were thoughtful about the layout of their coffee lab. They wanted to cover all ends of the coffee world for customers through visuals and education, all while providing a quality cup of coffee.

Behind the bar is a mural of the world’s coffee belt, which highlights the regions coffees are sourced from. Placed next to the bar is a bilingual coffee library, which holds publications about brewing methods, tasting notes, and more. Their slow bar showcases a multitude of coffee origins and alternative brewing methods, including their siphons. Lastly, their Diedrich IR-12 roaster is visible to the public, so patrons can see the roasting process.

The farm-to-cup journey for the Selivanows is a meaningful one. Kafiex prides itself on working with female coffee farmers around the world in efforts to empowering women. To further push their mission to educate about coffee, the team hosts multicultural events and coffee tastings that are open to the general public. When visiting, check out Kafiex’s Three Amigos espresso blend.

Kafiex Roasters Coffee Lab is located at 720 Esther St, Vancouver. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

  Gold Cup Coffee House

When customers visit Gold Cup Coffee House on the eastside of Vancouver, they tend to ask: “Where is the gold cup?” Co-Owner Oksana Kozlov responds to the question with a smile and says: “The gold is in the cup!” The inspiration for the shop’s name was derived from a quote by Sheik-Abd-Al-Kadir:

“Coffee is the common man’s gold, it brings to every person the feeling of nobility and luxury.”

This is a brand-new coffee shop for the Vancouver scene, which started life as a coffee cart. Gold Cup Coffee House’s interior is equal parts lavish and understated. With a full menu to choose from, the current house-favorite drink is the vanilla latte with Oatly oat milk. If time permits, the Kozlovs recommend getting a seasonal pour-over. The Ethiopia Guji from the aforementioned Kafiex Roasters is their go-to for their specialty drinks.

Gold Cup opted to go with Kafiex for their coffee—bean delivery is a breeze, as the locations are right down the street from each other. Coffee here combines well with pastries from local favorite Marsee Baking; the almond croissant is highly-recommended.

Gold Cup Coffee House is located at 10805 NE Fourth Plain Blvd, Vancouver.

Giovanni Fillari is Brand Marketing Specialist at Nike and the publisher of @coffeefeedpdx. He is the honorable mention Sprudgie Award recipient for Social Media in 2018. Read more Giovanni Fillari for Sprudge.

Top image via Adobe Stock/David Gn

The Sprudge Coffee Guide To Vancouver, Washington published first on https://medium.com/@LinLinCoffee

[shebreathesslowly]

The Sprudge Coffee Guide To Vancouver, Washington

What do you think of when you think of Vancouver?

For most Sprudge readers, wherever they might be in the world, the first thing that comes to mind is a teeming Canadian metropolis, a land of creative opportunity, disappointing hockey, and ever-rising rents. But there is another Vancouver: the city of Vancouver, Washington, located directly across the Columbia River from Portland, Oregon. (It may or may not be a suburb, depending who you’re asking.)

There’s a growth and cultural development phase underway right now in Vancouver, Washington, which owes in part to the exponential growth of the city of Portland over the last decade. Families and companies drawn to the region are looking to Vancouver for more room to grow, and this includes coffee shops.

Today Vancouver has that small-town feel, with big-city options for specialty coffee. A common thread seen throughout these coffee shops in this city is the feeling of community. A lot of people in the city have lived here for decades, and there are also quite a few newcomers into town with the recent population increase.

We tend to view coffee shops first and foremost as destinations for quality coffee, but here in “The ‘Couv,” many coffee bars extend their services beyond the normal call of duty. Whether it’s providing a collaborative space for the community, or educating customers about coffee, the following coffee shops have many dimensions to them that allows them to be staples within the wider Vancouver scene, all while serving a fine cup of coffee.

Relevant Coffee

We’ll start with Relevant Coffee, an established local Vancouver favorite. Relevant’s original location was a quaint 425-square-foot shop with a dedicated daily clientele, but in early 2019 the brand had the opportunity to move into a much larger new location, offering some needed elbow room. Their near-2,000-square-foot location is a sun-lit, welcoming space, home to both a full-service coffee and roasting facility, anchored by Relevant’s Probat L-12 roaster. Along with their new cafe floor plan, you can find a “plant island,” which is where their foliage is housed. The island was originally supposed to be a ball pit, but that plan was tossed.

Whether it’s their sourcing or cupping sessions—or a roaster housed behind transparent glass windows—Relevant wants to provide a shared experience within their space. This serves as an open invitation for customers to ask about coffee, and everything involved. To reinforce their mission of serving the community, Relevant has made an effort to partner with local companies and their products outside of the coffee shop. This means you can find Relevant around Vancouver in the form of coffee beers, cocktails, desserts, and even chili.

Relevant Coffee is located at 1703 Main St Suite A, Vancouver. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

  Presso Coffee Co.

Building off of the success of their original location in Portland, Presso Coffee Kitchen opened a second shop in Vancouver in early 2019, offering up seasonal toasts, a modern approach to interior design, and specialty lattes. Along with social-media-ready product and branding, Presso delivers on the quality front, roasting their own beans and serving coffee at a high level in two states.

The location in Vancouver has an expanded menu, which allows for more creativity. Here you’ll find drinks like the Mint Mocha with a toasted marshmallow, or the Salted Caramel Latte with a chocolate-dipped, pretzel-crusted rim. Whether it’s the bigger location in Washington, or the more intimate setting in Portland, the same ambiance and service will be found in both places.

In what appears to be a city-wide trend, Presso utilizes their space as a touchpoint for those in the neighborhood. From hosting community nights, tech meetings, and photoshoots, Presso opens their space to create a camaraderie for people of all ages that extends beyond state lines.

Presso Coffee Co is located at 13011 NE Fourth Plain Blvd Suite 106, Vancouver. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

  Compass Coffee Roasting

Here’s another brand with locations in two cities. Compass Coffee is a staple in the Vancouver coffee community, proudly roasting in Washington and offering this coffee at a smart cafe across the border in Portland.

The interior of the shop is beautiful, all-exposed brick and suspended light bulbs. There’s a long table in the middle of the shop, which encourages communication with other guests. Conversely, there are a number of single seats along the window to enjoy the view outside. Regardless of where you sit, Compass Coffee provides a comfortable atmosphere.

Founded on the idea of balance, Compass makes it a point to rotate in different origins of coffee into the shop, so consumers can be exposed to different regions. Whether it’s Burundi Kazoza, or Ethiopia Yirga Cheffe, Compass’ top priority is to tell the story of these coffees.

Compass Coffee Roasting is located at 817 Washington St, Vancouver. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

  Kafiex Roasters Coffee Lab

Located next to Esther Shore Park, Kafiex Roasters occupies a popular corner in downtown Vancouver. Prior to opening their shop, owners Matthew and Seidy Selivanow were thoughtful about the layout of their coffee lab. They wanted to cover all ends of the coffee world for customers through visuals and education, all while providing a quality cup of coffee.

Behind the bar is a mural of the world’s coffee belt, which highlights the regions coffees are sourced from. Placed next to the bar is a bilingual coffee library, which holds publications about brewing methods, tasting notes, and more. Their slow bar showcases a multitude of coffee origins and alternative brewing methods, including their siphons. Lastly, their Diedrich IR-12 roaster is visible to the public, so patrons can see the roasting process.

The farm-to-cup journey for the Selivanows is a meaningful one. Kafiex prides itself on working with female coffee farmers around the world in efforts to empowering women. To further push their mission to educate about coffee, the team hosts multicultural events and coffee tastings that are open to the general public. When visiting, check out Kafiex’s Three Amigos espresso blend.

Kafiex Roasters Coffee Lab is located at 720 Esther St, Vancouver. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

  Gold Cup Coffee House

When customers visit Gold Cup Coffee House on the eastside of Vancouver, they tend to ask: “Where is the gold cup?” Co-Owner Oksana Kozlov responds to the question with a smile and says: “The gold is in the cup!” The inspiration for the shop’s name was derived from a quote by Sheik-Abd-Al-Kadir:

“Coffee is the common man’s gold, it brings to every person the feeling of nobility and luxury.”

This is a brand-new coffee shop for the Vancouver scene, which started life as a coffee cart. Gold Cup Coffee House’s interior is equal parts lavish and understated. With a full menu to choose from, the current house-favorite drink is the vanilla latte with Oatly oat milk. If time permits, the Kozlovs recommend getting a seasonal pour-over. The Ethiopia Guji from the aforementioned Kafiex Roasters is their go-to for their specialty drinks.

Gold Cup opted to go with Kafiex for their coffee—bean delivery is a breeze, as the locations are right down the street from each other. Coffee here combines well with pastries from local favorite Marsee Baking; the almond croissant is highly-recommended.

Gold Cup Coffee House is located at 10805 NE Fourth Plain Blvd, Vancouver.

Giovanni Fillari is Brand Marketing Specialist at Nike and the publisher of @coffeefeedpdx. He is the honorable mention Sprudgie Award recipient for Social Media in 2018. Read more Giovanni Fillari for Sprudge.

Top image via Adobe Stock/David Gn

from Sprudge https://ift.tt/2PqmmdK

[harlanfoley5-blog]

Samsung Universe S6 Troubles And also How To Repair Them.

The story factory has actually turned for years that Apple is developing a car, or even at least advanced tech for vehicles, as well as today our experts possess hard proof the tech titan is actually hitting the trail with its own personal flight. Even with each of that, I trek out right into the over cast afternoon and wait for my ever-so-loving sibling through his cars and truck. All that transformed last week, however, at the launch from the changed DS5, which saw a beautiful old DS model joining it on stage, in addition to a devotion that anymore, DS will definitely be counted as a completely separate automobile manufacturer in creation studies. Rather than approving that he is going to never ever suffice in his eyes, Parker non-stop seeks his papa's program all the while sacrificing a lifestyle that could really create him delighted. The software that controls the cars and trucks is actually programmed to adhere to all traffic legislations as well as to drive cautiously, the firm claimed. The final opportunity Hyundai guaranteed Android Automotive was coming to the Sonata, it had a year prior to the improve was actually presented, and also that still does not possess CarPlay either - that is actually still assured for a later day. Modification: Miguel's auto failed to start this morning; nonetheless, he got a jump start from his next-door neighbor as well as was able to make it to his session promptly. You have to check for various other automobiles, whilst always keeping a close eye astride the car. Grand Burglary Auto needs places with a substantial urban area as well as numerous high buildings along with unique design. In that instance, the automobile financial business is actually often able to discuss for the yield from the lorry in exchange for particular records. The overview must state the location you are actually securing and also how you found out about it. The intro should also describe why you are actually a good match for the project opening and the business. Best Gear followers, avert now: appearing humble and offering the perception from impartiality is actually thus vital in Denmark that the authorities don't prefer anybody judged by their car. Frequently, diesel-powered cars and trucks set you back additional to buy, as carries out the fuel - although in recent years, the void between petrol and diesel rates has limited. The Generation 6 cars and trucks will be actually usable in singular player and also online nationalities, as well as in the Inside Product line Highlight collection from DLC which allows players recreate famous NASCAR races making use of the real world, telemetric records. All over the tight converts of the Daytona circuit I was able to toss my auto around corners almost at a right-angle, however simply catch it right before blowing up and also maintain speed. Our company believe saddening today to hear of kids possessing thus little, yet when you define your childhood as well as to hear my papa's Stories, I discover just what excellent childhood years you both had. Then, when I informed the solution proprietor what happened, he professed no task for anything, also the excessive repair services I got as a result of his supervisor's affirmations my automobile will be secure. Howevered, the gearbox possesses a wonderful activity and also on a lot of models the guiding permits you put the car along with peace of mind, thanks to its direct feeling as well as effectively evaluated weighting; only the 4x4 version dissatisfies here. Numerous gamers have possessed the interest to go deeper into the planet from Grand Fraud Vehicle 5 as well as learn exactly what functions that Rockstar desires our team to discover or even observe out. As you probably recognize each kinds of plans possess participation arrangements with all major cars and truck rental providers. The problem along with the Vehicle SUVs is that the site of the gas storage tank responsible for the rear axle had actually improved the likelihood that the cars would certainly ignite after a rear collision. Probably no business has gone through additional change in the final five years-never mind the prior 15 -in comparison to the automobile industry. Whereas, the Japanese vehicle industry started Definitely intriguing publication that is going to aid just about anyone recognize why USA manufacturing jobs have switched overseas. A considerable amount of auto proprietors also take this for granted hence they suffer from the outcomes including vehicle break downs and mishaps. If you beloved this write-up and you would like to obtain far more facts regarding braintesters.info kindly take a look at our web-page. It is the very first really driverless power auto model created by Google to test the next stage from its own five-year-old self-driving car venture. And also if you ased if that, remember to have a look at the Telegraph Cars YouTube channel, where you could join our 70,000 customers and enjoy cost-free video recordings of the most recent cars on sale. Two-day leasings on PlayStation Currently begin at ₤ 2.99, along with most high-profile headlines in fact costing a steep ₤ 4.99 to lease for two-days climbing to ₤ 7.99 for a 30-day rental duration. For the most part, this activity is about gamers taking control from one car or yet another and also attempting to win competitions. Recently let go from his office task, Kevin is actually only getting here to his work at the automobile washout. The most effective technique to perform this is actually through checking aesthetically, either by getting and also stopping out of the vehicle, or observing its reflection in the vehicle in front or a store home window - when that's secure to carry out thus, obviously. Its outlook, points out Otmar Bitsche, supervisor of e-mobility, is actually for one in 4 of its cars to become all-electric through 2025. Scrubbing away at your car windows and also windshield is carrying out a lot more injury compared to good. More recent technology uses noise or a shaking guiding tire to alert motorists when the vehicles are actually skiding into an additional lane without the turn signal on. His publications have actually been translated right into greater than forty languages, marketed greater than thirty million copies worldwide, as well as have actually been adjusted into movies and also tv jobs. A speaker for Tesla mentioned the components were actually aimed to always keep the cars and truck in its street and created for freeway steering only. This very competitive pricing mixes along with low CO2 exhausts to make the 1.6 and also the lower-powered 2.0-litre diesel budget friendly provider cars and truck selections.

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The Amazing Realm of the Wedding day Cake

dort sparta In modern planet there are just so several distinct alternatives and possibilities readily available to us. We can get a hold of individuals by standard cell phone, intelligent phone, standard mobile cell phone, e-mail, or regular mail. If we want to get somewhere we can generate a vehicle, ride a bike, acquire a bus, or stroll along. Presented all the a variety of alternatives readily available to us nowadays, it really is only all-natural that this range need to function its way into one of our most cherished and honored traditions...that of the marriage cake. Selecting the taste of the cake and the shade of the icing is just acquiring started off with the method. You will also need to just take some time to opt for the finest wedding cake topper for your unique cake. In this short article we will be checking out the realm of the wedding ceremony cake. We will be offering some qualifications particulars on the tradition, and finally doing work on up to the selection approach of the best topper for that quite particular wedding ceremony cake. The wedding cake is typically proudly and strategically put during the marriage ceremony reception. Usually towering way up into the heavens, it can compete with the bride as the "middle of interest" on her large day. This tasty perform of artwork establishes a focal position that the other factors of the reception can revolve all over. For those who favor a flare for the extraordinary, the wedding cake can be wheeled into the space at the conclude of the reception, delivering a "grand entrance" for everyone to see. To a lot of individuals this grand entrance will maybe bring about recollections of the bride who walked down the aisle earlier in the working day. For Starters The wedding day cake has developed in excess of the many years. Starting up off as a uncomplicated symbol of fertility, it has remodeled by itself into an artistic custom that can have numerous diverse creative interpretations. For many historic peoples wheat was a symbol of fertility and a bountiful harvest. The Ancient Romans utilised to toss grains of wheat at the bride and groom to "want fertility" to the new few for the duration of their wedding day. This custom made eventually evolved into bringing minor cakes produced from wheat to the marriage ceremony banquet itself. Persons would then crumble this cake about the head of the bride to desire the happy pair "many youngsters". The visitors would then consume the fallen crumbs as a symbol of sharing in the couple's very good fortune. Many believe that this "crumbling of the cake" in excess of the bride's head may possibly have developed into one more wedding ceremony working day custom? Do you know what it is? In order to guard the hapless bride from the wheat shower that is to appear, bridesmaids draped a cloth in excess of her head prior to the "crumbling custom" took location. Several believe that that this straightforward cloth progressed into the wedding ceremony veil of right now. Welcome The Center Ages Throughout the Middle Ages buns or sweet rolls experienced changed the initial wheat cakes, but it was nonetheless extremely customary for visitors to deliver these delicious treats to the marriage. Placed in a big pile involving the bride and groom, if the pleased pair was able to kiss in excess of this enormous stack of wheat, it was considered that they would be blessed with numerous youngsters. It is commonly considered that the subsequent phase in the evolution of the regular cake was done by a French pastry chef through the 17th century. Throughout a trip to London he transpired to observe this "cake piling" ceremony. On his return to France he dusted the stack of buns with sugar, and thereby "cemented" them together into one particular delicious art kind. This was to develop into the initial rendition of the tiered and frosted wedding ceremony cake, and a forerunner as to what was to occur in the several years ahead. The Common Style Are you familiar with the vintage design of the modern working day marriage ceremony cake? You know, the one with the unique style and design of smaller sized tiers as the cake builds vertically? It is believed that this product was motivated by the spire of the 14th century Saint Bride's church in London. How's that for a bit of trivia for you? Victorian England has introduced us several of present-day valued wedding ceremony traditions. For example, Queen Victoria herself is said to have experienced a cake that weighed in at 300 lbs. As confectioners and bakers became additional daring and skillful, their creations became even much more daring and elaborate. When England's Princess Elizabeth and Prince Phillip ended up married again in 1947, their marriage cake weighed in at a whopping 500 lbs, and was nine toes tall. The Edition of Right now In present day entire world the elaborate wedding day cake is no for a longer time reserved for the prosperous and famous. Each and every few can share in the custom of acquiring a marriage ceremony cake included to their large working day. The wedding day cake specialists of today's world have taken their artwork to towering heights (pardon the pun). Prolonged gone are all those bland days when you had been restricted to a white cake with white frosting. Though a white cake will most likely often be the most popular thanks to its classic this means, present-day few is constrained only by the limits of their imagination (and price range) when it will come to their wedding ceremony cake. Why White? White is surely the color of a marriage, but did you know that there is a different purpose why the white is the customary coloration of a wedding cake? Back in Victorian occasions the finer ingredients of a marriage ceremony cake were being scarce and challenging to come by. If the cake experienced a white icing, this exposed the reality that only the finest and most high-priced white sugar was getting utilized. Brown sugar was a lot much more prevalent, and for that reason much considerably less high-priced. So, the more white the cake, the richer the individuals. Be Confident To Program Ahead Really don't depart your exclusive wedding cake until eventually the previous moment. This is one of the most crucial things that you can keep in mind. No matter if you pick the baker down the street, a gifted family member, or a pastry chef who specializes in these tasty masterpieces, if you plan properly in advance you will be ready to cope with what ever hurdles could come your way. Some bakers require only a least discover, while a lot of bakers are booked much in advance. It really is a shame to have that ideal cake of your desires be "cancelled" because of to the simple fact you can't allocate a baker's time. What is actually that you say? You have no idea who will be baking your marriage ceremony cake? If you never have a certain baker in intellect, you have a bit of homework forward of you. Shop around and get some fantastic suggestions from family members and close friends. Look through the yellow web pages and the net as they are both equally beneficial informational resources. If you happen to be surfing the world wide web you will see that several bakers currently are publishing photographs of some of their masterpieces. As a kind of masterpiece cake gallery, they showcase what they are capable of making. This will jog your creativity as to what you would like your individual wedding ceremony cake to search like. Do not Forget Your Spending budget Be sure to look at your finances ahead of you enable your imagination get the superior of you. You want your wedding day working day to be 1 of celebration, not the working day that you commenced your journey into fiscal disaster. A lot of men and women are amazed at the charge of a wedding day cake. Keep in intellect that you are inquiring an artisan to create a masterpiece for you, and this can frequently be reflected in the cost that he/she will be charging. The charge of labor is typically the largest cost in the creation of a wedding day cake but preserve in head the basic reality that fondant is much more high priced than buttercream. Have you believed about staging your masterpiece? This will come following. Be sure to get the marriage ceremony cake stand into thought in the course of your preparing period. While some cakes can be merely put on flat boards that will not be seen by the standard public, some others are elaborately shown on lovely stands for every person to see. Preserve in thoughts the easy truth that actual size of the cake desk must be in proportion to the actual sizing of your cake. A desk that is as well little will make the cake seem way too large, even though a desk that is far too large will make it search like a small cupcake. And ahead of we forget about, your cake table will will need a beautiful masking to compliment its strategic spot at the wedding day reception. Oh, will not fail to remember the cake knife and cake server. There wants to be a area on the desk for these two goods as well.

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The Wonderful Realm of the Marriage ceremony Cake

dort sparta In modern entire world there are just so several unique alternatives and choices readily available to us. We can get a hold of individuals by regular cell phone, intelligent mobile phone, normal mobile phone, electronic mail, or standard mail. If we want to get somewhere we can travel a car, journey a bicycle, get a bus, or stroll together. Offered all the several selections offered to us currently, it truly is only normal that this selection need to work its way into one of our most cherished and honored traditions...that of the wedding ceremony cake. Picking the taste of the cake and the color of the icing is just obtaining started with the course of action. You will also require to get some time to choose the ideal wedding day cake topper for your exclusive cake. In this article we will be checking out the realm of the wedding cake. We will be providing some history facts on the tradition, and finally functioning on up to the selection approach of the best topper for that really specific marriage cake. The wedding cake is usually proudly and strategically positioned through the marriage ceremony reception. Typically towering way up into the heavens, it can compete with the bride as the "center of consideration" on her big day. This delightful work of artwork establishes a focal position that the other factors of the reception can revolve about. For those who choose a flare for the remarkable, the wedding cake can be wheeled into the room at the finish of the reception, offering a "grand entrance" for all people to see. To numerous people this grand entrance will most likely bring about memories of the bride who walked down the aisle before in the day. For Starters The marriage cake has progressed about the a long time. Starting up off as a easy symbol of fertility, it has remodeled by itself into an artistic tradition that can have quite a few unique inventive interpretations. For a lot of ancient peoples wheat was a image of fertility and a bountiful harvest. The Ancient Romans utilized to toss grains of wheat at the bride and groom to "desire fertility" to the new pair during their marriage ceremony. This personalized eventually advanced into bringing tiny cakes designed from wheat to the marriage ceremony banquet by itself. People would then crumble this cake about the head of the bride to desire the happy few "numerous youngsters". The guests would then take in the fallen crumbs as a image of sharing in the couple's good fortune. Quite a few think that this "crumbling of the cake" in excess of the bride's head may well have developed into another marriage day tradition? Do you know what it is? In purchase to shield the hapless bride from the wheat shower that is to arrive, bridesmaids draped a cloth about her head prior to the "crumbling custom" took spot. Quite a few believe that this basic fabric evolved into the wedding day veil of currently. Welcome The Middle Ages During the Center Ages buns or sweet rolls had changed the original wheat cakes, but it was nevertheless very customary for attendees to convey these tasty treats to the wedding. Placed in a big pile among the bride and groom, if the pleased pair was able to kiss above this massive stack of wheat, it was considered that they would be blessed with a lot of young children. It is frequently thought that the following step in the evolution of the regular cake was executed by a French pastry chef throughout the seventeenth century. In the course of a vacation to London he transpired to notice this "cake piling" ceremony. On his return to France he dusted the stack of buns with sugar, and therefore "cemented" them with each other into one tasty art kind. This was to grow to be the first rendition of the tiered and frosted marriage ceremony cake, and a forerunner as to what was to come in the many years in advance. The Common Style Are you common with the basic model of the modern-day working day marriage cake? You know, the a single with the distinct style and design of more compact tiers as the cake builds vertically? It is considered that this product was inspired by the spire of the 14th century Saint Bride's church in London. How's that for a little bit of trivia for you? Victorian England has introduced us many of modern valued wedding ceremony traditions. For case in point, Queen Victoria herself is explained to have had a cake that weighed in at three hundred lbs. As confectioners and bakers turned a lot more daring and skillful, their creations turned even additional daring and elaborate. When England's Princess Elizabeth and Prince Phillip have been married back again in 1947, their wedding cake weighed in at a whopping five hundred lbs, and was 9 feet tall. The Variation of These days In today's planet the elaborate marriage cake is no for a longer time reserved for the loaded and renowned. Each pair can share in the tradition of having a marriage cake added to their large working day. The marriage cake professionals of present day planet have taken their art to towering heights (pardon the pun). Lengthy long gone are those bland days when you have been minimal to a white cake with white frosting. Although a white cake will probably usually be the most well-known thanks to its traditional meaning, present day couple is limited only by the boundaries of their creativity (and funds) when it comes to their marriage cake. Why White? White is surely the colour of a wedding ceremony, but did you know that there is a different cause why the white is the customary shade of a wedding ceremony cake? Back in Victorian occasions the finer ingredients of a wedding day cake were scarce and difficult to occur by. If the cake had a white icing, this discovered the simple fact that only the best and most high priced white sugar was becoming utilized. Brown sugar was substantially a lot more typical, and as a result a lot considerably less high-priced. So, the much more white the cake, the richer the persons. Be Absolutely sure To Strategy Ahead Don't leave your specific marriage ceremony cake until eventually the last moment. This is 1 of the most crucial points that you can remember. Regardless of whether you pick the baker down the highway, a proficient family members member, or a pastry chef who specializes in these delicious masterpieces, if you strategy very well in advance you will be ready to take care of what ever obstacles could arrive your way. Some bakers call for only a minimum amount discover, while numerous bakers are booked considerably in progress. It can be a shame to have that best cake of your goals be "cancelled" owing to the fact you can not allocate a baker's time. What's that you say? You have no plan who will be baking your wedding day cake? If you never have a unique baker in mind, you have a bit of research forward of you. Store around and get some excellent tips from loved ones and buddies. Look through the yellow pages and the online as they are both beneficial informational resources. If you occur to be browsing the internet you will see that a lot of bakers currently are publishing photographs of some of their masterpieces. As a form of masterpiece cake gallery, they showcase what they are able of generating. This will jog your imagination as to what you would like your individual wedding day cake to search like. Do not Overlook Your Budget Be positive to consider your spending budget ahead of you enable your imagination get the greater of you. You want your marriage working day to be a single of celebration, not the day that you commenced your journey into financial catastrophe. Several individuals are shocked at the charge of a wedding day cake. Retain in brain that you are inquiring an artisan to create a masterpiece for you, and this can usually be mirrored in the value that he/she will be charging. The expense of labor is usually the most significant expense in the creation of a wedding cake but hold in thoughts the easy truth that fondant is much more pricey than buttercream. Have you thought about staging your masterpiece? This will come following. Be sure to acquire the marriage cake stand into thing to consider throughout your organizing phase. Whilst some cakes can be just positioned on flat boards that will not be viewed by the general general public, others are elaborately shown on lovely stands for absolutely everyone to see. Hold in mind the simple simple fact that precise dimension of the cake desk should be in proportion to the real measurement of your cake. A desk that is too little will make the cake seem way far too huge, whilst a table that is far too massive will make it appear like a little cupcake. And in advance of we forget about, your cake desk will will need a attractive covering to compliment its strategic site at the wedding day reception. Oh, really don't neglect the cake knife and cake server. There wants to be a location on the desk for these two items as well.