#[rachel green voice] men are unbelievable

[forcebookish]

if she didn't he'd be DEAD lol

[bluboothalassophile]

Are you planning on continuing Lost Voices at some point? Or perhaps do a short one shot? I only ask cause I all of a sudden have an urge to see Raven holding Baby!Damian and being like "This child is trying to bite my finger off. This is a good sign. Sadly his teeth are underdeveloped and lack sharpness."

Hello,

I’m sorry I sort of abandoned Lost Voices unintentionally, but I’m happy to continue it, here’s Chapter 3!:

Meeting of Lost Souls…

She stood there staring out at the world around her, she didn’t understand where she was, it was unlike Hell and unlike Azarath, she didn’t like it. Pulling her long hair back she twisted it into a firm knot, her eyes raked over the land and she looked at the dying sun. There was a sound behind her, soft, gentle like, almost inaudible, she turned when she felt him nearing. She knew it was the male who had been obsessed with her all day, he would not take her warnings to not touch her seriously. She would teach him no one touched her, which was what had her turning on him.

The male was naked, the shock at his audacity had her freezing.

“My beautiful Rachel,” he came at her, she gasped when hands caught her, shoving her up against the wall, lips on hers’. She didn’t know what happened, or why she froze, Raven had fought off male demon suitors before, she had obliterated any who dared to think they could touch her.

The male’s hand closed roughly over her breast, and she snapped, the reaction was a screech from the back of her throat as she gnashed her teeth, shifted to slam her knee upwards, and shoving her weight from the wall. They toppled over, which had her rolling over and to her feet, the skirts she wore tangled, and the man stumbled to his feet. She snarled as she took a defensive stance. The male, like the others she had fought, would be bigger and stronger, heavier, more aggressive, but she would be faster. He smiled and came at her, which had her reacting. Grabbing his arm she twisted it before slamming her knee into his elbow, before she slammed her heel into his nose which had her backing away. The man spat out the blood, Raven moved to put the table between them, her eyes never left his, he glared as he staggered to his feet.

Raven moved, he leapt over the table, she gasped as hands came to her throat, she fell back, he fell between her legs; she felt his errection press on her. A snarl tore through her, even as he gasped in pleasure, tightening his grip. The reaction was instinctive, as she caught his wrist, grabbed his triceps, turning as she put her foot on his pelvis and in his arm pit. Once she was perpendicular and his arm was in her grasp, she had her other leg over his head, and she lifted her hips with her full strength, his scream was deafening with the snap. She shoved him away, rolling to her feet as she ran for the balcony, she heard people behind her, breaking doors, she kept her footing sure, as she stepped upwards, her bare feet hitting the railing before she leapt over the edge. Raven moved to hit the water, taking a deep breath, the river currents nearly knocked the air out of her as they dragged her around, she gasped as she broke the surface to see the people, she still didn’t have her powers, but she moved with the river; rivers were swift to get her away for immediate distance. The struggle was keeping her head up with the skirts getting tangled.

Frustrated she went under the water, tearing the material, kicking it off her legs, as the currents rushed her further away. Finally breaking the surface again she gasped as she looked around for a way out of the water. There was a tree, she struggled against the currents and keeping her head up, before she finally caught the branch, pulling herself upwards. Looking around she saw it was dark now, the dying light would be gone soon, she heard a rush of noise which had her carefully making her way up the tree.

“She went below the surface back there!”

“Find her! She is mother of the savior!”

“We will have boats in the waters, dragging the river.”

Raven frowned at the odd language, looking at the men below her, she didn’t move, despite the chill settling over her skin. The people moved, getting into strange carriages, with lights illuminating their way and disappeared. She waited until she could hear no nothing near her but the running water, and then she carefully started navigating her way down the tree, landing in the soft soils she looked around. She wouldn’t follow the river, they would expect her to be near the water, which would mean she’d have to travel away from a water source. She didn’t like that. For now she would find a way across the river and take the high ground, until her powers returned she didn’t know what she should do. She saw huge shadows beneath the surface, a glint of red eyes, which had her eyes narrowing before she ran along the edge of the river.

~~~*~*~*~~~

He stumbled in the early morning’s light, very lost, by a river, and with a wailing baby in his arms, he didn’t know what to do. He needed to get home, he had to get home, he needed… who did he need? He didn’t remember, which was what had him looking at the river.

Somewhere in the night they had lost the motorcycle, it had run out of gas. He had followed the river. The dead had littered his trail and he knew he would need a way to get away from that, to escape. Escape where though? He didn’t know.

Until he knew where they were going, he would try to comfort the baby in his care.

There was a shrill snarl of a woman’s protest, something in him snapped to attention at that sound; having heard it before. Woman, in distress, he reacted, racing over the ledge, he got there in time to see a small black haired, very pale woman struggling against the hold of two men, she was putting up a hell of a fight; but she was too small to inflict true damage. The other men were jeering, she screeched when her dress was torn revealing her, he reacted, the sword was out; already bloody from his escape and he leapt into action, slashing off an arm. The girl was fast to escape in his diversion, her hand breaking a nose as she twists away. He finds her behind him, her hand grips one of the knives from the back of his belt, and he crouched low. The girl was fast, she and he sprung into action.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Raven slashed the knife, aiming for tendons, delivering crippling blows, as she went through them, it was only after three men were dead at her feet, the ground stained in the deep, rick crimson of blood that she twisted around to stare, ready to fight, at the figure who had aided her.

The figure was tall, taller than her, his hair was black, it curled a bit, his face was odd. One red eye on the right, three red eyes on the left, and the lower half of his face was red. There was no mouth, no nose on his face, there was a gurgling figure on his chest, and a sword was listlessly resting in his fingers. He made no noise, no move towards her.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

Finally he lifted his head, staring at her, his eyes and face were so devoid of any sign of life she would’ve found it unnerving; if not for the thing strapped to his chest.

“Ja… Ja…. Jay,” his voice was halted, almost inaudible, and for the first time since she’d been torn from her world she felt something with her empathy. Immense pain, panic, fear, confusion, and adoration. Standing in a relaxed stance she studied the figure, walking over, she could weakly differentiate the emotions emitted by the man and the thing on his chest. It was when she was standing before him, and he tilted his head down towards her. Something about his eyes bother her, which had her hesitantly reaching up. He didn’t tense, even as she touched the odd material, it was hard, cool to the touch, but loose. She gently pushed it up, and a pair of aquamarine eyes looked down at her as she pushed it to the top of his head. The eyes flashed green when her fingers came to the material covering the lower half of his face.

She withdrew her fingers when she sensed his discomfort at her touching the material.

“Jay,” she repeated his word and tapped his chest.

He nodded.

“Raven,” she tapped her chest. The gurgling thing finally had her attention, now that she could see it, she could see it was offspring. Small, feeble, weak, there was a bit of black hair on it’s head, and green eyes which glared at her. She reached to touch it’s brow, the contact sent a flood of emotions in her, hunger, contentment, joy, hunger, hunger, and now curiosity.

Jay was tense, but she removed her hand before he reacted poorly. Clearly, he was the offspring’s protector.

“Who is this?” she asked him.

He looked at the baby, she could sense his love and adoration for the baby. “D…D…” he made a sound of frustration, which had her catching his hand, instinct had her trusting him; there was something dangerous and safe about him, which even she found unbelievably appealing. His eyes flashed bright green and she smiled.

“D,” she said back to him. He relaxed. A shiver racked her body now, as the adrenaline of a fight left her, and she felt the cold hitting her, her tattered clothe was no longer suitable to travel. Suddenly her arms were full of offspring, and she watched Jay mechanically undo his belt, she was about to bolt when he pulled off his red garment and dropped it on her shoulders before pulling his belt back on and grabbing D from her grasp. She looked at the odd garment, pulling her arms through the massive holes, and then looking at how to do it up to close it like he had. He was faster though, his hands nimbly moving over to do up some sort of elaborate laces, and she nodded. He hadn’t taken her knife.

“R-Ra-Rae,” he whispered.

She frowned until he tapped her. “Rae,” he repeated thickly.

She nodded. “Rae,” she decided. Something about him was mechanically wrong, she could feel it, around his tongue and mouth, his body did not seem to want to cooperate with his will, she wanted to help, but she didn’t know what more to do.

There were noises which had both their heads snapping over to where her attackers had come from, she moved to run, he grabbed her wrist as he ran in the other direction, for the strange carriage, she stumbled after him, but soon righted herself as she ran after Jay. They both leapt into the carriage, he pulled D off him and put the babe in her lap before he had the carriage going, and they were moving, she twisted a bit to look behind them, the knife tight in her grip.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Dick looked over the reports in the YJ cave, from Zatanna, who was lounging there.

“What does this mean?” he asked finally, ceasing to pretend that he was B and all knowing; he’d been staring at her report for an hour and somehow it was just gibberish.

“There was a high concentration of Magic used here, the Dark kind, Dick,” she said sweetly.

“So?”

“So we should investigate, there’s a satanic cult somewhere in Africa, very mobile, and I think they’re up to something.”

“Zee we’re investigating an actual threat with the metahuman smuggling ring,” he started dryly.

“Dick, this is serious, at least ask Garth or Donna to investigate, if I’m right, there’s a very powerful demon about to wreak havoc on this plane of existence,” she said.

“Fine, I’ll ask if they can be spared from their countries long enough to look into your hunch.”

“Thank you.”

[papersrings]

*in rachel green’s voice* men are unbelievable

[unrealistic-nerd]

Zachary Levi of ‘The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’ Embraces His Inner Geek

Browsing Midtown Comics with the star of the forthcoming “Shazam!” (Yes, fanboy selfies were taken.) 

By Alexis Soloski

Zachary Levi at Midtown Comics near Times Square. Christopher Lee for The New York Times. 

"This is giving me the most unbelievable flashbacks,” said Mr. Levi, who was a comics fan in his youth. Christopher Lee for The New York Times.

“It’s crazy to think how obsessed I was,” said Zachary Levi. “At one point in my life this was everything.”

Mr. Levi, who is 6-foot-4 and newly buff, was on the first floor of Midtown Comics, just south of Times Square, gazing up at shelves crammed with new releases. A former comics head and self-described nerd, Mr. Levi likes to browse whenever he’s in the neighborhood.

Keep reading on the New York Times website or below.

He is starring in the second season of “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel,” as Benjamin, the grumpy doctor who romances the title character, played by Rachel Brosnahan. And while “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel” hasn’t announced a comics tie-in yet, Benjamin — fast-talking, freethinking, enigmatic — is arguably a hero and his chemistry with Midge could explode a lab.

Benjamin’s superpower? “Logic,” Mr. Levi, 38, said. Is that enough to withstand the force of nature that is Midge? That’s a question for the third season.

Benjamin is only one of Mr. Levi’s identities, secret and otherwise. He played Chuck Bartowski, the tech geek who became an accidental superspy in the TV comedy “Chuck.” And he was the voice of Flynn Rider, the thief with questionable intentions and great hair who rescued Rapunzel in the Disney movie “Tangled.”

He is also a Broadway star (“First Date,” “She Loves Me”). And in case you thought the musical comedy triple threat was his own personal superpower, he is pretty sure it’s empathy. “I’ve always had a really gnarly heart,” Mr. Levi said.

Next year, he’ll finally join the superhero cape brigade, in “Shazam!”Mr. Levi plays the title character, a muscular incarnation of a teenage boy suddenly granted the wisdom of Solomon, the strength of Hercules, the stamina of Atlas, the power of Zeus, the courage of Achilles and the speed of Mercury.

“Also I can shoot lightning out of my hands,” he said proudly. “The wish fulfillment is very ridiculous.”

This made him minor royalty at Midtown Comics, though that morning he was assuming a lower, less electric profile. Just another fanboy. Only taller. He wore green pants and a black Under Armour puffer that concealed his physique.

Even incognito, it was clear that a hero had entered the building. Staff members trailed him as he browsed the narrow aisles, and other customers snapped surreptitious smartphone pics.

The store is large and brightly lit, but so overstuffed with comics and merchandise (Mr. Levi was especially tempted by a Captain America gelatin mold) that it looks a lot smaller.

After noting a “Shazam!” collection on the sale shelf, he paged through a “Bloom County” book and a Legend of Zelda encyclopedia shaped like an old Nintendo cartridge. “This is giving me the most unbelievable flashbacks,” he said. “I keep thinking about slapping the cartridges and blowing into them just so they would work.”

“Life was so much simpler in the ’80s,” he said. That was when he first fell in love with comics, mostly “X-Men” and its offshoots. “The idea of waking up one day and being able to teleport or fly or transform or be superstrong or whatever — the child in every single one of us is secretly hoping for that all the time,” he said.

Mr. Levi still has a box of those old comics somewhere, along with some baseball cards “that are probably worth nothing at this point,” he said. And he still plays video games. Most recently the Red Dead Redemption 2, a Western. He thought there was too much horse.

A Go-Bots comic caught his eye and then an issue of “The Avengers” that showed Jimmy Kimmel on the cover. “That’s when you know you’ve made it,” Mr. Levi said.

Mr. Levi also admired a “Star Wars” comic that styles Leia and Han like the farmers of “American Gothic.” “Tell me that’s not clever!” he said.

He wanted to see the toys and collectibles. “How do you go upstairs?” he said to a pair of boyish Midtown Comics employees. Then he answered his own question: “Oh. Where the stairs are.”

He ascended them with a speed that wasn’t quite Mercury’s, eating a meal replacement bar on the way. “Every two hours I have another meal,” he said.

Mr. Levi made a beeline toward a wall of X-Men figurines. “Gambit was my favorite,” he said, pointing to one figurine. “Because he was a total ladies man and spoke with that Cajun accent.” He went hunting for a Shazam figure in the DC Comics section, and Henry Varona, a baby-faced staffer, had to break the news to him that he wouldn’t find it.

“There’s really not one?” Mr. Levi said. “Come on. Really?”

He stared at a wall of bighead collectibles called Pops and was reminded that the toy company Funko didn’t make a figurine from his “Tangled” character, Flynn Rider. “They have a Rapunzel Pop and Maximus the Horse Pop and no Flynn Rider. What does a guy have to do to get a Funko Pop?”

He eventually found Shazam, albeit in T-shirt form. ��Does that ever get old?” Mr. Varona asked him. “No way, man,” Mr. Levi said, shaking his head as he admired the yellow lightning bolt. “It’s just the coolest.” Being entrusted with playing a superhero, he added, “is something you get for the rest of your life, and to me that’s a very big honor.”

After Mr. Levi checked out some high-end figurines, Mr. Varona asked him to sign back issues of “Shazam!” and he obliged. “This will be on eBay in 10 minutes,” he joked.

“Five,” Mr. Varona said.

He posed for selfies with the staff and then joined everyone in a group shot. “Shazam!” they said as the camera phones clicked.

[sarahsilverdog-blog-blog]

One Problem At A Time Ch. 4

So, it looks like this is gonna go for a while, so I am tagging it #OneProblem. Thank you!

FRIENDS IN LOW PLACES

I’m not big on social graces,

Think I'll slip on down to the oasis.

-Garth Brooks

One hour and thirty minutes left.

Clementine stayed in the lab with Sam but everyone else surrounded the plane’s main door, guns raised and ready for their visitor. The man who stepped through the plane's hatch could have been anywhere from forty to seventy, iron gray hair peeked out from beneath the brim of his cowboy hat but there were few lines on his face. he was big and burly like a bear but lean and hard, no fat anywhere on him. He wore jeans with leather chaps, intricately stitched cowboy boots, a plain blue workshirt covered with a worn denim jacket...and a fancy, pearl-handled six shooter hung from his hip, Flanked by two men in an eclectic mix of military and western clothing, he didn't seem disconcerted at all to be greeted by six people bristling with loaded weapons all pointed at him and he raised his hands cooperatively and grinned, showing even, white teeth. "G'day folks,” he said in a thick Australian accent, inclining his head to Mitch who was the closest one to him. "Morris Brown, formerly of the Royal Australian Regiment, 4th Battalion, currently of the SoCal Extract/Evac Company, at your service." He got a good look at Jamie, covered in blood and filth, and Jackson, whose eye had blackened magnificently and whose throat was ringed with darkening bruises. "Looks like you folks had a bit of a scrap.”

Jamie snorted. “That's an understatement.”

Jackson eyed Morris Brown closely and said in his gravelly, injured voice, “I’ve heard of you. Your company did the San Diego job a couple of years ago. That was some nice work." He lowered his gun, and the others did too, the tension easing in the room and Brown dropped his hands to sides.

Tessa said, "Impressive work, you mean." She explained to the others. “They evacuated five thousand people in one group, walked them 350 miles through hybrid infested desert and only lost one person- to appendicitis. That's the stuff of legends.”

Brown looked pleased at the praise and rocked back on his heels. "Yeah, that was one bugger of a run. Took two months to get ‘em to the safe zone, razorbacks attacking every few days." He turned to Jackson. "But you're a bit of a celebrity yourself, mate. I know who you are, Dylan Green. Number one evac specialist north of San Francisco, though I think your pet lions give you a bit of an advantage.” He glanced around the interior of the plane with delighted curiosity. “I don’t suppose they are with you now?"

"The lions didn't have enough frequent flier miles," Mitch interjected impatiently. "Not to be rude, but we are kind of on a tight schedule, soo…”

“Oh, right,” Brown said, not seeming offended in the least. He turned and nodded to one of his men, who disappeared back out of the plane. "We're on our way back from a run and well, there's strange things going on in the hybrid zone." He scratched up under his hat at his cropped gray hair. “I maybe saw the most bizarre of all a few hours ago...anyhow it's something we need to look into but we picked up a, uh, passenger that isn’t suited to fast, hard travel in a truck caravan. I was hoping we could leave it with you folks...” he trailed off as the man reappeared, holding a tiny bundle that suddenly let out a squalling scream.

There was stunned silence for a second. then Mitch handed Jamie his rifle and with a happy sob took his grandson in his arms. Relief swept like a wave over them all, suddenly they surrounded baby Sam, laughing and smiling with the utter joy of his unbelievable presence. Clementine came racing down the staircase from the lab, having heard her son's cries; everyone fell back and let her take her son from his grandfather in her trembling hands, hugging him tightly as Mitch held them both in a protective embrace. Jamie sidled away but one of Mitch's hands caught hers and pulled her into their family circle, though she resisted slightly he was insistent and she gave in, letting his arms encircle her too as she hugged Clem and smiled over baby Sam.

Morris Brown was taking in this scene with keen interest, and he waggled his bushy eyebrows at Jackson and said, "I guess you lot don't find a baby as strange as we do.”

Jackson was smiling happily, tears in his eyes and he shook his head at Brown and said hoarsely, “We suddenly don't have such a tight schedule. How about a drink and you tell us how you ended up with the baby?”

***

Brown set one of his five men on guard, to watch out for hybrids- or other things- and the rest of them retired to the bar for a drink. Jamie excused herself after one; Clem had taken Baby Sam to be with his father in the lab after Mitch examined him (and after Abe administered the sterility cure injection); Jackson/Dylan and Tessa were discussing evacuation runs and other business she didn't particularly care about too much with their visitors, though Abe and Dariela were extremely interested as they discussed tactics and various plans that worked, or didn’t. The sticky dinosaur blood that covered her was getting unbearable, itchy and crackling against her skin and when she moved her right arm there was a worrisome tugging sensation that she was afraid was a deep cut that her clothes had dried to. She was brutally sore and wanted nothing more than to peel the filthy clothes off and climb into a steaming hot shower. Mitch started down the hall after her and she almost told him to stay put but then she realized he didn’t particularly want to listen to tactical Evac stories, and he didn’t want to intrude on his daughter's newly reunited family- he wanted to be with her. She waited for him to catch up and teased, “Time for my private exam, doctor?”

He smiled but his eyes were serious. "Actually, Miss Campbell, it is. I’ve noticed the way you’ve been moving your right arm and favoring your right side. I know am just a vet,” she snickered at that, "but I think I am qualified to check you out.”

They needed to talk, she knew, needed to work out some of the events of the last 72 hours; Max, and Logan, and discuss some things that had been said, or maybe hadn't been said, but now wasn't the time. She was tired, sore, and they were still both too warm with the residual happiness of baby Sam to start dissecting the darkness between them.

Mitch saw her hesitation and guessed the reason behind it truthfully, he didn’t really want to hash it out now either, he was too confused, too amazed, too unsettled… just too much. “I don’t –“ he started, then took her hand and said, “I just want to make sure you’re okay, Jamie.”

Taking it as a promise, she opened the door to her room and let him in.

***

Mitch rejoined the others in the bar a short while later. Jamie hadn't had any serious injuries, the worst was the laceration she had feared, a deep cut in her shoulder from the dagger sharp talons of the dinosaur. Adrenaline had kept her from feeling it, but she had felt it well enough when Mitch pulled the clotted, matted cloth from it with a sickening ripping sound, making her pale as fresh blood seeped from the gash. She also had a darkening bruise from her right armpit to her hip, where she had landed when the dino attacked her but otherwise she seemed fine and as promised, when he had determined that she didn't need any serious doctoring, he left her to it with a kiss and a promise to let him disinfect the gash after her shower.

The conversation in the bar had shifted to different hybrids they had seen recently, and the talk had turned from somewhat jovial to something more subdued and tense. Apparently there were more terrible creatures out there than they had already dealt with, and Mitch blanched at the mention of spider hybrids the size of golden retrievers, massive eight foot tall goats that had five foot long horns and razor sharp hooves, and at least one woolly mammoth, which had used its massive tusks to knock a locomotive off of the tracks outside of Los Angeles. It was somewhat frightening to consider that six-foot tall, vicious Cretaceous dinosaurs weren’t the worst they were going to face as Abigail’s creatures roamed freely into North America.

Once he had poured himself a drink and taken a seat with the others, the conversation changed as Mitch said. "So, Crocodile Dundee, tell me how you figured out country music scares the monsters away.”

Brown just laughed. "Crocodile Dundee. You Americans are so unoriginal. 'Throw another shrimp on the barbie’ and all that.” He squinted hard at Mitch, then shrugged. “To be honest, Dr. Morgan, we have no idea how it works. We just happened to luck into the discovery.” He took a deep swallow of the golden amber liquid in his glass and settled back into his seat. “We don't only do evac work, though that is our main focus. We also, eh," he searched for a delicate term, “clean up after the survivors have been evacuated.”

“Loot, you mean.” Dariela snapped. Brown only shrugged again. “If that's what you like to call it, mate. One man's trash is another man's treasure. Anyway, about a week ago we were cleaning a cabin we found in Nevada outside some desert town called Rachel. Wasn't much in it, but Chuck here," he motioned to one of his men, “found some little ipod type thing and snagged it, thinking there might be some good music on it. Turns out there wasn’t, just that terrible song on a loop, over and over and over." He shook his fist at the sky and said, “I’ve got friends in low places too, mate! Such a bloody come down. We were in one of the trucks and we came on a herd of those goat hybrids and Chuck was so mad at the song he was about to throw the damn thing out when all of a sudden the goats started to run. Away. Now, in our experience those stubborn, canty headed bastards will charge every time, but while that bloody awful music was playing, they ran.

“We experimented. Cut the song off, they charged us, turned it on, they stopped in their tracks and skedaddled the other way. So we tried it on the next hybrid we met, a razorback. Ran. Vulture, flew away." He grinned, his hatless gray head shining in the plane's soft light. "It's a terrible price to pay, but for those we love, we sacrifice!" He guffawed and gulped the rest of his drink down, motioning to Mitch to refill it.

Mitch took his glass, rose and went to the bar, but he stopped short of pouring the whisky. “I owe you,” he said, inclining his head gratefully towards Brown, “for bringing the baby back to us -and l still want to know how that came about - but I think if you let me study that device with the song on it, I can figure out why it repels the hybrids and maybe you won't ever have to hear that song again,” he shrugged, “Or at the least, maybe I can change the song.”

“That in itself would be a relief, my friend." Brown said, and Mitch smiled as he handed him his drink.

***

They moved the party to the lab, after Mitch saw Clem and Sam into his bedroom with the baby. Sam was still in rough shape but seeing his son and spending some quiet time with Clementine had done wonders for him, and the lab was too cold and uncomfortable for someone trying to rest. Jamie rejoined them, clean and fresh and creamy white in the glow of the lab's lights and Mitch was gratified to see her in somewhat casual clothing - in his mind he characterized it as ‘Early Jamie', faded jeans and a cute t-shirt and a light sweater -and she hadn't done her hair, it was tousled and curled and Mitch wanted nothing more in the world than to twist one of those curls in his fingers, pull it down and let his hand graze her cheek...but his imagination was cut off as Morris Brown whistled slowly at Jamie and said, "Well, we are officially a part of the jet set! Pun intended, of course! Jamie Campbell, of one of my favorite authors of one of my favorite novels.” He was quite a few drinks in, and he gave Jamie a friendly leer as he said, “I didn’t recognize you before when you were so...dirty," and winked, taking her hand, bending low and kissing her knuckles softly.

Mitch rolled his eyes loudly and Jamie withdrew her hand firmly with her ‘celebrity smile', the one she always used on talk shows and interviews and with overbearing fans. Mitch recognized it at once, how many times had he seen her use it when weaseling information out of someone or dealing with idiot officials who couldn't be handled by anyone else? lt was another glimpse of the old Jamie, and Mitch found himself feeling grateful that she was still...her.

"Thank You," she said to Brown, then pointedly joined Mitch at his computer and took his hand, looking down at what he was working on.

Morris Brown chuckled and took another drink. “Aye, you're a lucky man, Dr. Morgan," he said, slapping his hand on his thigh. "No offense meant Miss Campbell. And you’re still my favorite author." He leaned sharply forward and said to Jackson/Dylan, "She may be the writer, but now I want you to tell me a story.”

Jamie stayed next to Mitch as he worked on the device Brown had given them. It was connected to one of their diagnostic computers and he ran a variety of different tests on it as Morris Brown listened to Jackson/Dylan and Abe take turns telling him about Abigail and the hybrids, New York, the volcano, Clem's miracle baby and the cure for sterility, and the breach in the barrier and their escape, though they left out Jackson's involvement both as her brother and as the one who drove the plane through the wall.

Well," Brown said, his deep Aussie accent broadened by alcohol, "I told you I had seen some strange things. About four hours before we found you, we came across the herd of rhino hybrids you folks acquainted yourselves with earlier. They were acting fairly bizarre, all standing in one place, looking the same direction. No panic, no snorting, no bellowing, not even when we started to drive around them, Then we saw a jeep parked at the edge of the herd, and a sheila, right up close, using some kind of hand signals and be damned if the rhinos weren't behaving as if they knew what she was saying!”

The crew all exchanged looks as Morris continued, "Well, we got up to the jeep before she noticed us, close enough for me to notice a baby seat in the back. Funny how baby seats never caught my eye before but I guess after you haven’t seen an ankle biter in a decade those kind of things look out of place. Anyway, she finally saw us and she didn’t bat an eye as she waved her hands and those damn monsters came charging at us so fast Chuck almost didn't hit play." He paused and threw a toothy grin at Chuck, who answered. "But l did, and those sumbitches wheeled around so quick they almost trampled the lady where she stood.”

Morris Brown took over. "Seemed like the music was hurting her too, she grabbed her head like it was about to bust but then again, maybe she just doesn’t like country music. But here's where the craziest part comes in. She was too far from her jeep, and she seemed pretty surprised that the beasties were running away such a hurry. She got a look at our arsenal bearing down on her so she made some kind of sign and one of those big bastards came back to her, let her climb on it and she rode away on it!” He shook his head as if he still couldn't believe what his own eyes had seen. "Craziest damn thing I’ve ever seen. We did a quick go over of the jeep and didn't find anything but well, the baby. We had figured on taking it to the Barrier and leaving it, but since you say they’ve evacuated –“ he shrugged and took another swallow of whisky.

Suddenly Mitch broke in. "Hey, Ja- uh, Dylan, could you come over here for a sec?" Brown didn't miss Mitch's mistake and his keen eyes suddenly narrowed as Jackson rose and joined Mitch at his computer. He had a screen up and Jamie peered over their shoulders as he pointed to two parallel, wavy lines that intersected at uniform points, "This look familiar to you?”

Jackson looked up at him incredulously. "That looks just like the combination of frequencies Abigail used to make the beacons, hers and mine, but opposite ranges, So instead of drawing the hybrids-“

“They repel them." Mitch finished, halfway between triumph and jealousy. “It’s genius, l don’t know why think of it before.” He beamed at Jamie, who squeezed his hand as he said, "I can isolate the frequencies and we can play it from anything that can broadcast. Looks like we may have a new line of defense.”

***

Everyone had gone to bed except the two of them; Morris Brown and his men were sprawled on various couches throughout the plane and the others had gone to their rooms. Mitch had isolated the repellant frequency from the music and had it on a loop that was silent to the human ear but would hopefully keep hybrids away and Jamie had set proximity alarms on every entrance to the plane so everyone felt reasonably secure. Having six extra, heavily armed people on board for the night made it feel a little less worrisome too. They sat close together at the bar, nursing what was left of a bottle of vodka. Other than the impersonal exam earlier, and his quick, post-shower dressing of her wound, it was the first time they had been alone together in what felt like weeks, though it had only been little more than a day.

Jamie could feel him steeling himself up to say something and she was pretty sure she knew what it was going to be. As much as he had tried to make her feel better before, trying to claim darkness for himself, she knew he really wasn't accustomed to ruthless Jamie. Single-minded Jamie, yes, she'd always been that, but his brilliant brain was having trouble processing what ten years of bleak disappointment and pain had done to her. For years revenge had been her only motivating factor, in truth, years before she even met Mitch revenge had been her motivator but she'd had hope then, hope that things would work out in the end, hope that the little guy would win, and even hope that she and Mitch could make some kind of life together after the animal apocalypse. Then Mitch was gone, and she had hope that she could take care of Clementine the way he had wanted, hope that she could keep some part of him alive in herself through his daughter. Then Max took Clem and she had nothing. Logan hadn’t been, would never have been enough for her, so vengeance had filled that hole in her heart and she didnt know if she could make room in it again for something so weak and fickle as hope.

“So what was that out there?” He finally asked, his hand cupping her cheek, gently but firmly, she wasn’t going to look away.

She did anyway. and he let his hand fall, picking up his drink instead as she answered innocently, "What was what?"

He wasn’t going to deal with her bullshit tonight, and he rolled his eyes as if to say, really? "Didnt we just have a whole conversation about darkness? I think kicking Jackson in the face and threatening to burn him alive is a bit dark, even for you.”

“I wasn’t going to burn Jackson," she scoffed, though she couldn't deny the kick in the face so she took the easy one first. “l was threatening to burn the zombie because they are afraid of fire, which worked by the way.”

“No, it didn't. What worked was the flaming Thanksgiving turkey smashing into it." He had her there, and she leaned slightly away in irritation, pursing her lips and rearranging her socked feet on the barstool railing. Mitch didn't miss her reaction, and he pressed his advantage. “And what made you think fire would work on a zombie?”

Already annoyed at him, she rolled her eyes so hard she was afraid she'd strained her optic nerve. "Hello? I grew up in Louisiana? Bayous?Voodoo? Zombies? Didn't you spend a year there?”

"Studying giant river rats, not the undead.” He finished his drink, poured himself another and topped Jamie's off with the remainder of the bottle, plopping it loudly on the back of the bar. "Need to get some more of this." He sighed, swirling his drink in the bottom of his glass and deciding to let her off the hook for now said instead, "l could be studying the undead right now, but we left them in the compound. Not that I could do much with the soldier, since I think he's been barbecued beyond use,” he looked emphatically at Jamie, eliciting a snort of laughter she tried to suppress, "but l could still learn something from the dog.”

She swallowed the last of her drink in one gulp, jumped up from the barstool and said, "Well, lets go get it then." He looked at her blankly and she said, "The dog. It's still there in the compound, right? I mean, where would it go?"

He took another sip and looked sideways at her, then down at her feet. "Uh huh. You going in your socks or are you gonna put on some fuzzy slippers first?”

The laugh was real, warm and honeyed and rich and it sent shivers down his spine as the mood subtly shifted between them. "Maybe we can wait until tomorrow," she said, her voice suddenly husky and low, stepping between his knees she leaned into him as he bent to meet her lips with his. Electricity surged between them, fusing them together, all sparking neurons and melding molecules; her hands burned against his thighs, through the thick material of his jeans and in the desperate reaches of his lizard brain he wondered vaguely if she planned on burning him alive, though at the moment he didn't really care if she did. He buried his hands in her hair, pulling her closer, needing her closer and she responded, tightening her body against his because she needed him too.

They finally surfaced for air, and Mitch stood. holding her to him and brushing tousled tendrils of her hair away from her face. "Uh, my room is currently being used as a nursery ..sooo, think maybe l can crash with you tonight?" he asked gruffly.

She answered him breathlessly, running her fingers over his stubbly cheek, “I think that can be arranged.”

"Afterwards you can tell me all about zombies," he said, lowering his head to nibble sharp kisses at the soft skin of her throat. “We have to keep up our reputation for lively pillow talk.”

***

Here, darkness was good. Here, darkness kept them safe, hidden from the outside world and its monsters; it hid their scars in shadows, even as they bared themselves completely. Here, in the darkness, it was just the two of them, together.

***

[aviationfiction]

XXI

Autumn Dupont

“I can’t wait for you to get here so you can try on your gown. Autumn, it’s so freaking gorgeous. The pale toned pink is perfect and you know you have that sun kissed skin with that super weird yet intriguing mystical glow to it that every woman on earth would kill for, so that’s certainly going to bring it to another level.”

My body turned to yet another angle as I did my best to get a good look at my tightly drawn back ponytail. While listening to Heather pour out her vexation, thrill, and anxiety about her wedding over the past thirty minutes, I’d been working with a curling iron, a flat iron, and my overthinking mind as I did my best to get it to the look of perfection that I envisioned. Initially, I worked loose curls into the ends to create a nice bounce to it but I wasn’t a fan of the look about five minutes later so that resulted in me flat ironing every single strand until they were straighten and cascading down my back. After having checked the weather, there was no way possible that I’d risk wearing my hair loose and allowing it to join the hundred and four degree weather in torturing my body. Supposedly, today’s a cool day and if those numbers represent what’s supposed to be cool, then I don’t want to be here when the temperature reaches absurd numbers.

“You heard me?”

“Yes, I did. First, I don’t know what glow you’re speaking of. I don’t see it and I’m looking at myself in the mirror as we speak. Second, I truly hope the dress fits my body properly and that it’s your final choice. I’m not allowing you to take me through the strain of last minute changes, Bridezilla.”

I dug both hands into my cosmetic bag to find my recent goto NARS lip gloss and nearly emptied out all of it’s contents onto the counter top. I contemplated doing somewhat of a full face of make up and the thought of looking like melted clay ceased my efforts. Instead, I applied a tinted moisturizer to my face, filled in my brows, applied just a bit of mascara for depth to my slightly sleep eyes, and now my last step is the lip gloss, if I didn’t forget the pack it. I’ve done my best to be as naked as possible without being indecent and yet I still feel like I’m overdressed for the heat that I’m about to endure. These acid washed cut off shorts are nearly short enough to be considered a pair of denim panties and the pure white crop tank top I’d chosen to wear with them left more than enough of my belly exposed and yet I could already sense how much sweat I’d be covered in within minutes. I just about clicked my heels when I noticed that there was an indoor pool and that’s where I planned to spend at least a nice portion of my day but one phone call tossed that out of the window.

“You ready Peaches?” I swiftly turned my head in the direction of the bathroom’s entrance and narrowed my eyes at Dante as he poked his head inside and took a look at me. Unlike usual, our eyes didn’t meet. Instead he took the time to exam every single article of clothing that I chose for his planned outing and he slowly trailed his intense brown eyes up until they were staring at my set of green. Instinctively, my feet took a step back from the counter and I slightly twisted my body to stretch away the tingling running along my spine and dancing within the depths of my abdomen. He arrived nearly three hours ago after having changed out of his business attire and freshened up for the afternoon and he fell into a slumber on the couch of my two bedroom suite while watching The Brothers. I assured him that while he napped, I’d began to get ready for whatever he planned but that transitioned into a bit of a white lie as I plopped down on the love seat and shamefully leered at him while he slept. The sight of his chest peacefully heaving up and down and the low breaths that escaped his soft lips entranced my mind and left me in a state of stillness. My heart swelled at the sight of every deep sleep grimace he’d make and I craved to be just a small part of whatever dream had his mind occupied. While his thickened eyebrows served as a clear source of his masculinity, the slightly curled set of eyelashes and his supple blushed lips softened his face to create the unbelievably perfect mesh of handsome and beautiful all at once.

Andreas is beautiful. I often thought of his appearance as unrealistic and had no issue deeming the man to be the one with all of the beauty within our marriage. Though it left my stomach churning from time to time, I expected women to gawk at him without any regard for my presence and it was of no surprise to me that my husband was often the one being lusted over before any of the players for the Miami Heat or for any NBA team, period. Though he’d do his best to take a nonchalant approach to it, he knew and he often joked about it whenever he felt compelled to irritate me for having irked his nerves at the wrong time or for the self pleasure of teasing me about an unspoken insecurity. Either way, his beauty has always been at the forefront of us and I grew accustomed to it. In no way am I comparing the two but there’s something about Dante that is so refreshing within that aspect. It’s not just his humble obliviousness and detachment from his attractiveness, but also his cultivated masculinity and imperfections that serve as the stepping stone for why he embodies what it means to be a man.

“Who is that?” As Heather questioned the foreign voice she heard in the background, I gave Dante a thumbs up and a playful side eye for the nickname he decided to give me yesterday and has refuse to let up on. With a nod of his head, he turned away to leave me to the wrap up what I had left to do.

“You heard me?” My hand finally set on the lip gloss I’d been searching for and I quickly opened up the tube and applied a coat to my top and bottom lip.

“That was Dante.” I had no reason to lie to her and there was nothing that I could make up off of the top of my head that would make much sense. She knows what I currently do for a living, she knows who my boss is because I told her, and she knows damn well there’s no man that I’d be bringing along with me for work related trips. Though I tend to avoid to the topic, she’s been curious about the dynamic between the two of us ever since we randomly decided to hang out in his nightclub after having a cost less dinner upstairs in his restaurant. The visual of the two of us speaking at the bar wrote a narrative for both Heather and Rachel that they refuse to let go of. Both women seem to believe they know my body language and reactions to men better than I do.

“He’s currently in your hotel room? Well, that makes things more interesting. Then again, it’s been that way. Your Instagram page currently looks like a traveler’s guide and I know for a fact that you’re not doing all of those outings alone. You can be somewhat of a loner when you want to be, but I’m not stupid.”

“I’ve never said that you’re stupid. We hang out. It’s been a couple of months and I can admit that a friendship has formed, so we hang out. It’s purely platonic; friendly. The friendship we have is no different from any other friendship I have. Granted your my best friend, so I’d say he’s a good friend. That’s fair enough.” I placed the lip gloss into the front pocket of my backpack along with my Apple charger and wallet. I left the inside empty for bottles of water.

We passed by a VANS store yesterday at Fredrick’s request while Dante was taking care of business and I couldn’t help but to fall in love with a sepia colored polka dot backpack that I saw hanging up on the wall. I asked for it without a second thought and a salesmen wouldn’t be doing his job without showing me something that would perfectly go along with the bag and mine did so when he paired the bag with a pair of the “Old Skool” classic skate shoes. The match made in heaven wasn’t one that I could turn down and was certainly worth the money, but my debit card never paid for the hundred and eight buck total. Fredrick physically and mentally blocked me from the counter as he uttered Dante’s request to look after me and make sure I was taken care of until he returned. What I took as a joke to laugh at was far more serious than it should have been for both of his best friends as we walked through The Fashion Show Mall. Though I didn’t necessarily want anything else, it didn’t stop them from offering me to choose something of my liking whenever we entered stores of their choice. Ice cream and lunch at Ruth Chris was on Mike. Today, I’m putting Fredrick’s gifts to use.

“You’re comparing our friendship with the one you have with him?”

“No. You’re my best friend. There’s no comparison to make.”

“I also don’t have a dick.”

“I’m aware of that. Also, his genitalia has absolutely nothing to do with me nor is it on my mind.” Well, at least not while I’m awake so, that’s not dishonesty on my end. After our eventful night at his golden nightclub and the time we spent reclined in the leather seats of his Aston Martin, the short nap I took was even shorter than it was supposed to be as I forced myself to end it. I needed the fantasy of Dante being buried between my thighs while I thrust my body to and from his in the front seat of his car to cease. That dream was the pioneer for the dream I had throughout last night that ruined my chances of an attempt to sleep in today. I’d like to think that I’m simply reliving my teenage years once more; or maybe it’s those early twenties that I missed out on. Fantasies are just that; moments when you absentmindedly muster up outrageous thoughts about something or someone out of your reach. I cannot recall any real celebrity or even average civilian crushes that I’ve had some years back and as a married woman the last thing I was thinking about was other men, though I wanted to out of spite. I’m going to deem these absolutely out of line visions of my boss and myself as a bit of that with an added dose of immaturity on my end. I suppose that’s what happens when you either encounter or fan girl over someone that’s out of your league and unattainable.

“Are you sure about that? It never crossed your mind when he was damn near pressed against your body that night?”

“No, it didn’t. Why would it? I told you that he and I have a friendship. It’s a fairly new friendship.”

“You say that like it’s a foreign concept for a man and a woman to start off as friends before taking it to the next level. Do you know how long that’s been happening? Not everyone meets someone and immediately either works towards or just jumps into a relationship. Friendship is often the stepping stone.”

“Yeah, well that isn’t the case between he and I. There’s nothing going on. I know you poke fun at me for being this extremely secretive person but I’m not hiding anything here. We’re just cool.”

“What do you like about him?”

“I don’t like him.” A huffed slipped past my lips and I pulled both straps of the backpack over my shoulders and slightly adjusted it so it’d be aligned perfectly with my back. While spinning in the mirror, I chuckled as I thought about Dante telling me I looked fifteen years old two days ago. I could admit that this look made me look no more than the age of a high school senior. It’s the ponytail and hoop earrings doing it more than anything.

“Why are you being so defensive? I’m asking that in general. You have to like something about him in order to consider him a friend of yours.”

“He’s just a good guy. He’s personable, kind, and a great listener. He gives good advice and is encouraging. He’s cultured and willing to teach without being an arrogant know it all. He’s funny in his own little way. He’s fun. He’s very humble and I respect that so much. He’s someone who knows so much; damn near everything and yet he doesn’t allow that to control who he is, how he carries himself, and what he represents. I respect that.”

“That’s a lot of description for someone that you’re only friendly with.”

“If someone were to ask me about you, I’d hope that you’d believe that I could give them a detailed and accurate description of how I feel about you and what you represent as a woman, because if not, then we have some issues.”

“Oh please. Don’t give me that bullshit. We’ve been friends since you and I were kids. So yeah, I’d expect that. You’ve been knowing this man for a couple of months through work and from what you just said to me, I’d think he’s been in your life for a couple of years. You’re going to tip toe but whatever. Say you do like him and you’re interested in something more; what’s the problem with that?”

“There’s a lot of of problems with that and it’s not the case.”

“What’s the problem?” If I had the time or the actual will to do so, I’d run down the pages upon pages of issues that would go into he and I being anything beyond what we already are. We’ve already crossed a couple of boundaries that are too far behind us to ever backtrack but there is no doubt that we’re going to be right here, at this point, throughout the duration of us working together because that’s the way it needs to be. I’m not even sure how long I’m going to be working as a corporate flight attendant. Though I enjoy the traveling and being able to see the world without having to spend a dime out of my pocket on flights, hotels, or food due to the company and the perks of having a company credit card, it’s time consuming and there’s a cap on how far I can excel. I can’t allow a favor for my brother to turn into my entire life and I certainly cannot allow a favor to turn into a nightmare for him. He’d have a conniption if he found out about just a small amount of what Dante and I have been doing with our work and personal time since being introduced to one another by him. It’s no secret that our relationship has a significant amount of damage and our story has some tattered pages but my God, I’d toss the most potent gasoline on the blaze that is his disappointment if he knew or if this goes any further than it needs to due to my foolishness and hopeless romantic being. Yet again, I’m teetering on the edge of destroying my relationship with my family and possibly pursuing a man that’s too far out of my league and would all but leave me shattered by the way of my own doings.

“Heather, I just got a divorce. The ink on that shit hasn’t even dried yet. As I look at my left hand, I can still somewhat see the print from my engagement ring and eternity band still on my ring finger. Take a step back and imagine how that would look. I’d be jumping from one relationship to another without any regard. Shit, it’d look like I was doing so while still very much so in the marriage. Situations like that need time to subside and it needs to make sense. I also need that sigma on me to die down some, you know? The whole someone’s ex-wife and sloppy seconds thing. He filled for the divorce. I’m the woman who was left for another; the cultural woman with the worldly job position by the way. I don’t have the greatest image right now. In addition to that, I’m not his type.”

Silence fell between the two of us as I leaned against the counter top and grimaced at the thought of what I just explained. I’ve seen far more than enough online, heard it on the radio from some of the most known radio personalities, and I’ve seen the brutal comments on social media. If it’s not about the decision I’ve made in walking away with nothing of his, it’s my idiocy for allowing another woman to come in and ruined what I built. Then there’s the viewpoint about my lack of a backbone or the women who have been digging as much as they can to find some type of scandal within my background or by my doing within our marriage so they can alleviate Andreas of any blame. As far as men, I’ve read plenty of “show me a beautiful woman, and I’ll show you a man who’s tired of fucking her” comments. Aside from that, no one wants me to shed the identity of being Andreas’ ex-wife. I’ve been offered a couple of book deals to tell all of our dirty laundry for some millions and the possibility of being on the New York Times Best Seller list. Shaunie O’Neal offered me to join Evelyn Lozada, Jennifer Williams, Tami Roman, and a few other ladies on Basketball Wives as a new cast member and if I made my very first season juicy enough to draw in high ratings, she assured me that I’d have a spin off show by the next season. I’ve been sent e-mails from multiple well known publicists to be hired for representation, and I’ve been offered interviews with countless media platforms. Rather than declining, I’ve never responded to most. There’s no need to. If I wanted to live off of the man, I could be twenty million dollars wealthier right now. I would have rather done that than to make a living off of my heartbreak by the way of scandalous exposure.

“What the fuck are you talking about right now?” The disgust in her tone was evident and it also served as the marker for me to end our call before the conversation turned into an argument that neither one of us need right now or anytime soon.

“Heather, I’m holding everyone up. I’ll call you tonight.”

“You know, that’s why I hate him. Don’t get me wrong, I can’t stand that high yellow, weasel faced, son of a bitch for hurting you, but I hate his ass for being the biggest part of altering the way you view yourself. I wish you were on my end of this conversation and could have heard that bullshit that you just spewed to me as the absolute truth about yourself. It scares me that you actually believe that and it makes me wonder if that counseling shit is working out. Your image? Jumping around? I’m at a lost for words because I don’t know what to say to you without losing my damn mind. You don’t owe him shit. Fuck the ink. I wouldn’t give a shit if it’s being smudged on the pages as we speak. You are a woman who is free to do whatever the fuck you want to do. I—you know what, I’ll let you go. We’ll talk later. Enjoy your day with your quote on quote friend.”

We didn’t bid one another our usual parting words of love. The double beep signifying her end to our call was as cold as she purposefully intended it to be and I could do nothing more than stick my phone down in the back pocket of my shorts and head out of the bathroom. Heather’s had more issues than I can count with me over these past six years and I’d just have to take today’s conversation and toss it into the pile of unresolved conflicts I’m going to have to mend at some point.

“I’m ready. Are you? You finished that movie?” I found Dante in my suite’s living room, laying across the couch, looking at what I know for sure is the final scene of the movie. He looked pleased, just as I had expected him to. The Brothers is a film that carters to both genders, though he swore it’d be a chick flick filled with drama and romance. Though it does contain those aspects, it’s also contains enough macho masculinity and comedy for a man to enjoy.

“There’s the credits.” He pointed at the screen and stood to his feet. He too, was dressed with the means to stay as cool possible. He donned himself in terry cotton deep grey Nike shorts with the all too familiar logo largely printed on the side of the left leg in white, a plain white t-shirt, and a black and royal blue pair of Michael Jordan’s first signature shoe. Though my eyes can barely tear away from him when he’s covered in the finest of materials gathered to create his designer suits, I certainly struggle to refrain from fawning over the days when he’s causal or laid back in appearance. There’s something about it that not only suits him but it also temporarily eliminates some of the intimidation in his serious demeanor. Right now, I don’t feel like I’m in front of a multimillionaire business man who has the world at his disposal. Instead, I’m in the presence of a handsome yet simple man with a kind heart and intuitive and often poetic mind.

“Did you enjoy it? Which brother do you relate to?”

“It was a good movie. As far as which one I relate to? None of them. One has commitment issues and then it went way left when he found out the chick he took an interest in had a previous relationship with his father. Then there’s his parents rekindling their relationship. Awkward shit. I don’t know my father’s dealings but I hope to never run into a woman he’s dealt with. What’s the other guy’s name? Brian. That’s it. He went through it with one black woman and swore off all of them. That’s quite silly, even though her sending him to jail was ridiculous. The Derrick guy and the sex issues, well I found that more comedic than anything, except for the mother part though I can’t relate. I’d never want my mother living with me.”

“You wouldn’t allow your sick mother to live with you?”

“Sick mother? Hm. I guess I’d allow that. She’s my mother after all.”

“And you wouldn’t consider leaving your wife if she wasn’t pleasuring you in the manner that you’d want her to?”

“No.” He shook his head to match the statement he made and I quickly side eyed him because I will never believe his or any man’s response to that if they tell me no. I firmly believe that apart of the reason why Andreas went after Amber is because of our unstable bedroom life. I came into his life untouched by any man and I worked at trying to figure out what he needed in order to keep him pleased. I’d mentally immersed myself into so much, it became less and less about my own pleasure and mostly about what lingerie, trick, or position I should try to maximize the pleasure for him. Some were better than others, tons were far more painful than I thought they’d be, and there were those that filled my frame with embarrassment because the execution wasn’t quite right. As the traveling increased, loneliness engulfed me and our connection dwindled. Whenever he did come home, I’d try my best attempts at spontaneity. I’d wait for him naked in our bedroom, only for him to flop down on the couch and not even acknowledge my presence. In the mornings, I’d remove my bed attire and creep into the shower only for him to turn around, kiss me, and tell me he had to go or he’d be late. I still cringe at the times when I’d drop to my knees and literally request to envelope his flesh into my mouth. Those requests were approved occasionally and I’m assured that it was for my own satisfaction more than it was his. I’d like to think Amber was already spreading her thighs and opening up her mouth for my ex-husband at that point; it’s either that or he just no longer wanted me.

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. Why would I consider leaving my wife over something that we can work on? That’s not betrayal or the breaking of some part of the vows. It’s sex. Sex is a learning experience. You teach and you learn; both husband and wife or whatever relationship dynamic you have with said person.”

“And what if your wife never learns?”

“It’s not possible.”

“How so?” I quickly crossed my arm over my chest. I didn’t intend to be combative but there is no way possible that I’m wrong in this instance. I’ve heard and read about more that enough relationships or marriages going through the wringer because of sex and sex alone.

“It’s just not possible; at least not in my opinion. There’s so much to explore and try out. If one thing doesn’t work out, try something else. If you’re in love and you truly value that person and what they bring into your life, then you’re going to figure it out.”

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to agree to disagree. What you’re saying is easy to say because you’ve never had to deal with it. We all say all kinds of shit when we’re on the outside looking in. So no, I don’t believe you because in this instance you’re inexperienced and unaware.”

“Inexperience and being supposedly unaware has absolutely nothing to do with who I am as a man. I’m only getting married one time. That, I know for sure. So we’re going to have to figure it out until the wheels fall off. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, okay. If we’re still friends around the time that you get married, we’ll come back to this.” I lead the way to the door and he chuckled while cooly trailing behind me. A part of me wanted to keep drilling his head until he understood where I was coming from and could stop being such an optimist but I let it go because I cannot speak for him or his future experiences.

“Nah. We can come back to this conversation sooner than that and why did you say if? You plan on going somewhere?” I nearly stopped in my tracks at the question. Am I going somewhere? They say people are in your life for a reason or for a season and though I have so many reasons for why I enjoy him and value what he’s brought to my life thus far, I do and can question if this is all just something temporary for the both of us that will be nothing more than a blur in his future and a memory within mine. The changes that will happen within our lives are inevitable and it’d be hard to imagine the two of us and whatever we call ourselves building between one another outlasting it. I’m sure it can happen but would it? Is that realistic?

“No. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Neither am I. So there’s no need to say if.”

“Okay fine, we’ll talk about it sooner, later, and at the wedding too.” The door closed behind the two of us as we walked down the long hallway and he continued to trail behind me until we were waiting for the elevator.

“Not at the wedding. The conversation will be pointless, because by then, you’ll already see it my way.”

“You sure about that?”

“Positive, Peaches.”

“And you’re going to stop calling me that.” I quickly pointed my finger in his direction as the double doors drew themselves apart and we stepped on, taking positions on opposites and he pressed the button for the lobby. While leaning my body against the stainless steel wall, it’s coolness did absolutely nothing to distract my attention from the sight directly across from me. His stance was nearly identical to mine; only he had his hands stuffed down into the pockets of his shorts. I did my best to refrain from being obnoxious or embarrassing as I continued to take in all six feet and four inches of him, but I didn’t have the strength to fight it. Any woman standing in my position would be doing the same in hopes of even a glance from him. The level of small I feel in such a grand presence is unbelievable and yet I’m drawn to every aspect of him; mentally and physically, though I’ve never had him. I cannot get the feeling of my body pressed against his as I moved my hips along to every infectious beat and vulgar lyrics while in the club. That is the result of my eyes panning down to his shorts to get even the slightest sight of what I felt pressing against my derrière. I remember the exact moment I felt what would eventually invade my thoughts and dreams, salivate my mouth, and moisten the most sacred part of me. Hours ago, I interrupted the best sleep I’d gotten in quite some time to end the vision of my nude body sprawled on his office desk as he—

“Peaches.”

“Huh?” I quickly returned my attention to his face and watched as he pointed at the lobby. As he stepped aside, I quickly exited the elevator and turned the corner to find an awaiting Mike and Fredrick. I didn’t know they were downstairs waiting for us and had Dante mentioned it, I probably would have tried to ready myself a bit quicker and would have certainly ended that call with Heather much sooner.

“It took y'all long enough.”

“Should have stayed upstairs instead of rushing your impatient and anxious ass down here to wait.” Dante purposefully yet playfully pushed Fredrick out of the way and he approached Mike who held an expression on his face that was far more serious than I’d ever seen on him. He’s usually comedic, cool mannered, and making statements that are either slick or slyly amusing all for the sake of entertaining himself and embarrassing those around him.

“Let me talk to you for a minute.” Dante’s ever confident frame tensed at the question and he quickly nodded his head as the two stepped away from both Fredrick and I. They were in clear view and if I were curious enough about what they were speaking about, I could have heard it well enough, but I’d been distracted by the sight coming in through the revolving doors to be concerned.

Though Vegas is known for bachelor or bachelorette weekends and shotgun weddings, I’ve never heard of people actually making the decision to have their traditional and sometimes extremely lavish wedding ceremonies and receptions in Vegas. I’d noticed an unusual amount of human traffic once we stepped off of the elevator but I didn’t connect the dots to a wedding. Now all of the tuxedos and whimsical dresses make sense. The last to waltz into the lobby was the beaming couple, who could do nothing more than fawn over and smoother one another in affectionate and celebratory kisses to celebrate their union. Their smiles were infectious not only because those amongst them were smiling just as big, but also because I mustered up a small smile of my own. Instead of her maid of honor, mother, or sister, it was the groom holding up the back of her mermaid style of gown. My attention focused on her more than anyone else, and the gleam in her eyes is exactly what a bride is supposed to have on one of the most special days that she’ll have in her life. She’s walking along side her life partner; the man who just vowed himself, his loyalty, and all of his dedication to her. I wonder if people warned her that though today may be beautiful, there’s a possibility of storms to come and destroy all that they’ve shared and built together to arrive to this point. I wonder if she knows that he may change or one day may wake up and not look at her the same way. Does she know not to lose herself into that shit? Will he cherish her? When he’s not perfect, will he apologize? Some days I think I’ve had closure and there are the occasional ones when I crave an apology from Andreas. An explanation would take me through the hell of it again, but I’d deal with that for those two words that often mark a resolved ending. I’d like to think I’m worth that; even if he doesn’t feel like he did anything wrong.

“Autumn.”

“Yes?” I turned to look at Fredrick whose facial expression held concern. I’d been zoned out to the point of staring at nothing. The wedding party vanished behind the doors of the hotel’s ballroom.

“Lets go to the little convenience store and get some snacks for the trip while they have that conversation.” He didn’t bother to wait for an answer as he threw an arm over my shoulder and lead me to the right.

“Trip? Where are we going?” Honestly, I figured we were going to gamble or take a visit to that gangster museum that Mike raved about on the way here. I don’t know much about Vegas other than gambling and nightlife and based upon the brochures I’ve read since being here, that truly is the highlight of what happens out here. I expect to be highly impressed when we head out on the scene sometime tonight.

“The Grand Canyon. Dante’s idea.”

“Oh! That sounds cool. Thank God I brought my camera. That’s a great outing for nice pictures.”

“It is. Mike and I haven’t been out there so we figured why not just do it together, even though it’s hot as fuck outside.”

My backpack served as the junk bag while Fredrick fit as many bottles of assorted beverages as he could into his own. You’d think we were kids the way we zipped around the store like the roadrunner racking up tons and tons of chips, cookies, cakes, and candy. Our teeth are sure to be semi rotten while I stomachs painfully ache if we should decided to consume all of it but we preferred to have options to suit everyone’s tastes. Dante rented a bright white Jeep Wrangler Unlimited for our trip and Fredrick volunteered to be our designated driver to both destinations. He and Mike occupied the front, while Dante and I sat on opposites sides in the backseat. I don’t know how I was able to figure it out, but he much like myself, was pleasantly surprised when I handed him a bag of Oreo minis and strawberry milk. I remembered the milk from a flight and the cookies were a lucky guess. It was my way of breaking the ice as he sat there staring out of the window swallowed by his thoughts. Whatever Fredrick told him couldn’t have been good news because the tension remained within his frame and exuded in my direction though he didn’t intend it. If we were alone, I’m sure we’d speak about it and hopefully there is a point throughout this day that we do. I’m no Dr. Jill. I don’t have all of the right answers, but I’d like to serve as an outlet to release his pent up emotions whenever he needs to. That’s what a friend is for.

“Are you okay?” My hand rested on top of his own and he swiftly flipped his hand so it’d lock around mine.

“Yeah, I’m just mentally analyzing a few things and solving others. I apologize for the silence.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I understand.”

“Fredrick told you where we’re going?” I quickly nodded my head and chuckled as he leaned in to began a session of whispering so the all too nosey duo in the front wouldn’t find a way to pick on him.

“Yeah. I told him that I’m glad I packed my camera so that I’ll be able to take some great shots at both places. Oh and your iPhone too. How the hell do we have the same phone and yet yours takes better pictures?” We shared a laugh over my question and he unlocked his phone so he could point out the simplistic answer; editing apps. I don’t have any on my phone other than one which is for creating collages or squeezing a few photos into one particular frame. I use the Instagram filters and call it a damn day.

“There are some great free ones but the best ones are the ones you have to pay for. I read a couple of articles and bought the apps with the best reviews and I just play around with the apps and edit the photos until they’re the quality that I want.”

“I’m going to have to copy off of you. Put those on my phone. Not all, but like the best three? I think that should do the trick.” I scooted closer so we’d be directly next to one another and I handed over my phone so that he’d handle the task.

“Your photos don’t need any editing though.” To mask the blush that was fighting its way through, I chuckled at the statement and quickly shook my head. He was serious and that within itself caused my head to drop down so I was staring into my lap and I finally allowed that blush to conquer the lower half of my face.

“Oh shit. That was a good one.”

Dante’s eyes widened at Mike’s intrusive comment and he immediately frowned at his best friend who twisted his body just enough to be able to see into the backseat. Fredrick’s loud laughter made it no better and I couldn’t help but to join him as Dante’s face filled with a faint hue of crimson to signify his embarrassment. He simply stared at Mike’s hand when he extended it for a dap and he rolled his eyes at the devious smirk on his face.

“I’m just messing with you brother. Aye, since we’re on the West Coast, Pac or Snoop for the road trip soundtrack?”

“Snoop.”

Dante and I said the name in unison and Mike turned his attention to his iPhone. As he connected to his Bluetooth, Dante typed and tapped away on my iPhone to began my journey to being a mobile editing master. Rather than going directly to one of Snoops legendary albums, Mike opted for a playlist. As the the sounds of “Snoop Dogg” blared from the speakers inside of the sporty truck, our heads nodded along to the infectious beat. While we relaxed against the cool backseats, our eyes met. The blaring music became faint as his intense gaze grasped my entire being and I could feel my lips slightly falling agape at the sight. He never once flinched. His search or rather hunt for something that goes beyond my outer surface became apparent as his body slightly leaned into mine. I welcomed him. He blinked once; setting off an array of chills from the base of my skull down to the very nerve endings of my spine and my nerves grasped the best of me as I tensely ran my fingers through my hair. He’d taken that as an invitation to take a few strands in-between his fingers and he loosely curled the strands around them.

“You’re stunning Autumn.”

“You too.”

It slipped and I wanted to kick myself for it. It flew from my lips a millisecond after my name beautifully eased from his. The truth; a truth that I’ve noticed since I mistakenly fell into his arms. He’s stunning internally beyond what most could ever imagine and it shines through to further enhance his external.

He granted me a small smile while allowing my hair to fall back into place. He didn’t readjust himself back into the position he was once in. He remained close, with his shoulder leaning into mine, while he browsed through the App Store. As his scent engulfed me, my body further sank down into the seat as I mentally unraveled.

God help me.

Our destination wasn’t the four hour drive that I was expecting. Our forty five minute ride didn’t even allow us to get to the end of the Very Best of Snoop Dog playlist as we arrived at GC Flight, a Las Vegas and Grand Canyon tour company specializing in helicopter, airplanes, and motor coaches to and from the Arizona landmark. I should have known better than to think we were going to spend the majority of the day going to and from Arizona in a truck even though it wouldn’t have been absolutely fun and hilarious to have done so with Mike and all of his playfulness. To save us the lengthy trip, we’d be heading out in a top of the line helicopter.

“I take it you’ve never been in a helicopter before?” Dante chuckled as I hesitantly walked through the terminal. He was nearly pulling me along by the way of my elbow. I asked just about every question possible while the actual owner of the company ran down all of the rules and guidelines to our trip. He described it as no different than a flight but I beg to differ; smaller aircraft and far less likability to live it we should crash.

“I haven’t. Don’t even say that there’s a first time for everything because I don’t believe in that shit.” His laughter wasn’t as infectious as it usually is. I couldn’t muster up even a chuckle as my eyes locked on the neon red helicopter we’d be sitting inside of within a minute or so.

“It’s going to be fine. I’d never put you in harms way.” He squeezed my arm. “Helicopters are cool as shit. You fly low enough to be able to see sights. You can’t do that while on a plane. Besides, this ride is only forty five minutes. That beats a four hour drive. You’re going to love it.”

The fifty milligrams of Zoloft I swallowed down this morning did nothing to calm my nerves as the three amigos cheerily encouraged me to hop onboard. Though there were six forward facing passenger seats with more than enough room for us to sit and lounge apart, Dante took a seat next to me while Fredrick and Mike planted themselves directly behind it. I was locked into my seatbelt, wearing headgear, as well as a headset before all of them. Fredrick suggested I chew gum and I immediately took him up on the offer. While Dante held both of my hands, Mike’s were grasping my shoulders and gently massaging them in hopes to ease my mind as we listened to the pilot’s safety briefing. His usage of the words danger, risk, threat, and accident just about worsened my fears. Him mentioning all of them with a smile on his face felt like I was sitting in front of the grim reaper.

“Trust me. I’ll never let anything happen to you. Besides, if Mike’s here, then you know we’re alright. That man’s scared of everything. He’s a pussy.”

“Aye, fuck you you longed face bitch.”

His response sparked the laughter I needed to calm just a few of the bad nerves tormenting me but overall, it was his immense hands squeezing mine that served at the soother during take off. They were nearly as soft as mine, with just a bit of roughness that had to be the result of his basketball playing and the feeling of them enclosed around my own set quickly became one that I didn’t want to rid myself of.

“The sights are great already. Look.”

From the oversized windows, we could already see an aerial view of the infamous Las Vegas strip. Had it been nighttime, we would have been able to be dazzled by the endless amount of lights, but the visual was still incredible nonetheless. Our pilot served as a tour guide and along the route he pointed out the mighty Hoover Dam and it’s power plant turbines. My Mr. Wikipedia served as the historian who explained it’s original name, Great Depression construction, the impounding of Lake Mead, and lastly the states in which the dam generators provides power for. I’d taken out my camera to get as many shots of it as possible and continued to capture shots as we moved over Lake Mead, Fortification Hill, the Colorado River, and the Mike O’Callaghan-Pat Tillman Memorial Bridge.

Upon our arrival to the canyon, the pilot flew around it so we’d be able to take in every single aspect of it from above and then we descended just about four thousand feet below it’s rim and landed at a private site in the heart of the Hualapai Indian territory. We were supposed to pop open a complimentary bottle of champagne to celebrate but instead we chose to hike around. Though weather conditions were absolutely arid, there was a warm and yet soothing rusty and gusty wind faintly sweeping through to make our journey a tad bit easier.

For the simple minded, we were observing far too much dirt and rocks purposelessly sitting in the middle of nowhere, but as I took it all in, I couldn’t help but to be in awe of nature’s artwork. The carvings, sandstone flanks, and rusted deep slopes covered by olive shaded trees all served as the means to beautify such a rugged location. As we walked, I lightly ran my fingers over the barren red rocks and the green leaves springing out of the jagged walls. The canyon served as yet another reminder of how beautiful the earth is despite such ugliness from arguably it’s greatest enemy; us human beings.

“This is beautiful; pointless but beautiful. How long has this been here?” Mike voice his opinion loud enough for the three of us to hear and I quickly turned to look at Dante because he typically always has the fun facts about whatever location we visit. I don’t expect him to fail us today.

“Eh. Studies have said maybe five to six million years. For thousands of those years Indians occupied this area. They built their own settlements within the canyon and it’s caves. Some even considered this to be a holy site and would make pilgrimages here.”

“Dante’s the only person who paid attention in his history courses.”

Mike raided my backpack while cracking jokes about his friend and within seconds the three friends were trailing ahead of me. I used the time to put my camera to use and instead of taking photographs of the sights surrounding me, I focused the lens on their chemistry. Had I never met any of them and was just observing, I’d easily be able to notice how extensive of a history they have and how much of a tight knit bond they cherish within their brotherhood. The loud outburst of laughter, the way they completely grant one another attention no matter who is speaking, without interruption, is admirable. Mike is even granted a respectable silence for his jokes. Fredrick often drapes his arm over Dante’s shoulder and it’s no different at this very moment. Given his hostility with his family, it’s relieving to see him have an extended one in those two as well as Stacey. They not only keep him grounded and humble but also contributes to his overall contentment.

“Autumn, stop being paparazzi and catch up!” The flicker was louder than I thought it was.

“Lets hike up there.” I pointed at a peak not too far away that would take a bit of trek up and Mike immediately shook his head.

“Nah. I’m already near death. You go up there and we’ll be right here waiting.”

“Come on. I’ll go. Fred, wait here with lazy.” Dante gripped my shoulder as I quickly took off my backpack and left it with the two just in case they wanted snacks and also so I’d have less weight on me going up. Throughout the climb, he used his long and lean legs to walk ahead but our hands being laced gave me the advantage of being pulled up by his strength. He showed no sign of exhaustion once we were exactly where I wanted to be; unlike myself. The heat already had a headache arising in the most sensitive parts of my head. I’m a faux runner but I’m no athlete. Dante runs and is moving around this place like he’s a Usain Bolt and Lebron James hybrid.

“This is perfect for photos.”

“Drink some water.” He twisted the cap off of my water bottle himself and I swallowed down what became warm water within a half an hour of us being out here. It didn’t do much to cool me off but I suppose it quenched my light thirst.

“What made you think of here as a place to come? Because it’s close to Vegas?”

He stepped aside as I lifted the Nikon camera up and aligned the viewfinder with my left eye. An eagle was my target and I captured his essence as it soared through the air with precision like the majestic beast that it is often portrayed as. The sun beamed down on his pearly white head; as he nearly blended in with the white clouds as he continued to weave in between them.

“It’s peaceful out here; hot as hell but peaceful.”

“So you’ve been here before.”

“Yes.” As the eagle passed, I focused on the clouds. I’ve never seen them so clear….so clarified. As the fainting sun cast it’s rays down upon them, it created the perfect hue of scarlet. The setting sun is always my belief of heaven touching earth for less than an hour out the day.

“Why did you need peace? What’s on your mind?”

“Home. I spoke with my sister-in-law this morning and she’s beginning the process for in vitro fertilization again and Matthew’s giving her a hard time. He needs to give a few more samples and he’s putting off the process and she called crying to me to convince him to do so. She doesn’t ask for much. She’s not a difficult wife and she puts up with that man’s shit though she doesn’t need to. She should have divorced him a long time ago as far as I’m concerned but I can’t make that decision for her. She continues to stand by him despite his shit. Now she wants a baby. That’s all she wants and it’s a whatever type of situation to him.” Oh I know that feeling. I know it well. Andreas and I had the baby conversation a number of times and each time he’d do his best to explain to me how we weren’t ready for parenthood without ever giving me a solid excuse for why. Honestly, I wanted a child to fill the void that he left with me. At least I wouldn’t be alone. In the beginning, I imagined us as a beautiful family, living a traditional life, and being something like those from the famous family oriented television shows. The more he shut the idea down, the less I thought it and I eventually let it go. Now I can’t even picture myself as a mother or the point in my life when I’ll be in the best place possible to be one.

“That’s tough. There are women out there who don’t want to have children and that’s absolutely fine, but for those who do, that’s one of the most important goals in their lives. It’s special, fulfilling, and full circle, honestly. It’s the greatest gift two people can ever receive so the pain that she’s feeling is intense.”

“I know. I could barely make out what she was saying through those tears. I want that for Camille because she doesn’t ask for much but Matthew would rather shower her in materialistic shit and go about his business. Talking to that man is like me standing out here and talking to the ground. Nothing gets through to him until he’s in some shit and it barely gets through then. He’s bullheaded. Always has been.”

“Sounds like Isaac.”

“No. Your brother’s no Matthew.”

“He’s not too far off. Believe me. Despite his success, he got his shit together not too long ago. This clean cut, focused, and reserved Isaac is a reformed version of himself.” As I turned my body to face Dante, the sight of him standing there gazing out at the scenery was far more beautiful than anything I’d capture since our helicopter ride over here. The way the remaining streaks of sunlight cast down upon him while the garnish of pinks and oranges reflected on his vanilla glimmering skin was enough to leave me breathless. He overpowered nature’s beauty and stood amongst it like a sovereign; the most alluring and selfless kind. A one of one; him and him only.

“Well I applaud him for getting it together. Matthew’s too arrogant for that. The best way to resolve an issue within your life, no matter what it is, is to understand and admit that there is an issue. The man carries himself like he’s God’s gift to mankind and he gets it from Richard. They’re one in the same.”  

“Sometimes people have to hit rock bottom in order for a change to spark within their lives. That may be your brother’s fate. You can’t change him nor can she. At best, you can encourage Camille to live her life and do what’s best for herself. If sticking by him is that, well, you have to allow her to do that. She loves him but I hope she loves herself more.”

“I agree with you.” The sound of the shutter caused him to glance in my direction and he chuckled as I quickly snapped a shot of his face.

“What else is on your mind?”

“Right now?” Though I switched my position so I’d be standing behind him, he turned to face me. “Nothing but this moment.”

“Not what had you quiet in the car?” He reached for my camera and I quickly pulled it out of his reach. “You’re always taking the pictures. It’s my turn.”

“That’s already resolved. It’s not on my mind anymore.” He reached once again. “You’ve taken enough. You officially have more photos of me than my mother does. I promise you.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“For her it is.” He gave up and instead reached for his iPhone. “Stay just like that. Don’t move.”

Had it been anyone else, I would have defiantly moved or dodged the camera but for him I froze exactly the way he requested me to do so and he capture me in the manner that he wanted. ‘A little to the left, slightly to the right, turn just a bit, look away, sit down, and look at me.’ I did all of it for him without protest as I basked in the beauty of him and our surroundings. The bombardment of colors casting across the skyline were beyond what Picasso or Vincent van Gogh could create. The man standing here with me? Only by God’s hands. There’s no denying I’m standing in the midst of his eminence.

“What’s on your mind?”

“What’s next for me.” That’s been on my mind more than anything else these days, which isn’t surprising. That’s where my mind should have been a long time ago but I held out hope for a resolution within the impossible. Now I’m left to figure it out alone. I’m no longer within those teen years where everyone’s tossing guidance and advice my way while happily standing on the sidelines to encourage me to keep going while I figure myself out. Sure I have a bit of it here and there, but I’ve reached the age where my focus needs to be solid. It’s going to take quite a bit of building myself up but the struggle to get there is to be expected and I deserve it. I’ve began to skimming through online applications for a couple of universities and I’ve reached out to NYU and UCLA for my transcripts. I need a few recommendations and I’m dreading trying to figure out who to ask and the accelerated programs that I’ve been checking out are strenuous. Harvard is the only Ivy League school that offers students who have completed at least two years of college to complete their degree through an assortment of online classes and approximately four three or seven week courses or active weekend courses on the university’s campus. The thought of applying there feels like I’m shooting myself in the head each time. I’ve checked out NYU and even Rutgers New Brunswick though I don’t want my mother involved. All of it is one big ball of confusion that I cannot continue to avoid no matter how much I try to.

“Do you know what’s next?”

“I’m slowly but surely figuring it out.” Suddenly his body was along side mine and he peered down at me in understanding. “That’s a start right?”

“Of course it is. That’s more than a start. I’d like to believe you already know what you want. You’re just analyzing the path that you need to take to get there.”

“Yeah. The adjustments as well. I suppose school is first.”

“Do you know where you want to go?”

“Uh. I’ve been checking out some schools.” He snickered at my hesitance to name them.

“Which schools? I wouldn’t be a Columbia Lion if I didn’t pitch to you how great of a school it is. You should check it out. I think you’d be a good fit there. You like New York City and you’d still be close to home. You can probably get an apartment in Manhattan so your commute won’t be extra hard. You were the Valedictorian at your high school and were on the Dean’s List both years you were in college. You’re getting in.” My eyes widened as he listed off those facts and I quickly glanced up at him in confusion. I never told him that.

“Who told you that?”

“Isaac.” He laughed out loud at my facial expression and widened his already huge eyes. “What? You think I did a background check on you or something? How else would I have known? He mentioned that while speaking to me about your permanent position.”

“Oh really? Says Mr. Accepted Into Every Ivy League School St. James.”

“Who told you that?”

“Google.” It was my turn to laugh but I wasn’t alone while doing so. He joined in. I didn’t search through page after page in hopes of pulling up every bit of information I could find on him. He was honored inside of the Harvard Business Review magazine and they had an extensive biography on him which included that information.

“Well as I said, you can get into any school that you want to get into. Just apply. Don’t doubt yourself. You have no reason to whatsoever.”

“What if that causes me to have to walk away from working with you?”

Silence fell between us as we continued to observe the sky’s retreating pigments as they battled the beginnings of the nighttime’s midnight blue pushing it’s way through the surface. The visual seemingly signified the question I’d asked him. A dark cloud loomed over my thoughts as I imagined having to walk away from what has been the source of my peace for the past couple of months.

“Walking away from the job doesn’t mean that you’re walking away from me. Right?” Our eyes met one another and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders to draw my body closer. His eyes held an anxiousness for a response and I wrapped my arm around his back until my hand met his side. My soft squeezing sparked his infectious smile.

“Right.”

“Alright then. So we’ll be fine. Besides, Columbia’s right there. We’ll be practically neighbors. We’ll see one another everyday.”

“Who says I’m going to Columbia?” I quickly sucked my teeth as he laughed ridiculously loudly and he playfully shrugged his shoulders at my question.

“All I’m saying is, I’m only writing a recommendation letter for Columbia.”

My jaw dropped at his stubbornness and he wrapped my body into the biggest bear hug as he continued to laugh at what I know for a fact he’s serious about. Columbia slipped out of my thoughts as I became a drunken woman by the way of his intoxicating scent. The warmth of his body engulfed me and I submitted myself to his world for however long he intended to keep me in his arms.

“We have to go back. I’m sure they’re tired of waiting.”

“They’re not standing out there. They walked away while we were walking up here. We’re fine.”

His head rested on top of mine while my head rested in the nape of his neck as we stood there welcoming the stars.

Tom Ford.

I’d chosen the handsome American designer’s designs for my attire this evening. The short black and long sleeved embellished dress and the matching thigh high open toe boots were amongst the final gifts I received from Shane. Though I was still married, he continued to encourage me to get out there and live my life instead of choosing to sulk in my empty home. During his visits, he’d become my bad influence of a life coach and we’d have “Siblings Gone Wild” weekends in the best hole in the wall clubs around Miami. My brother was too indie and eclectic to be partying inside of establishments on Collins Avenue or Eleventh Street. Given his ability to network and have friends all over the place, he was able to find these spots and he’d drag me out of the house in the sexiest attire he could coerce me into and we’d be partying until the wee hours of the morning and then would find a spot to eat the greasiest pizza ever before making our way back to my house and crashing in the living room. The Tom Ford pieces were shipped to my home while he was out in Paris enjoying himself and at the bottom of a note card covered in messages of love in French, he told me to tuck it into the back of my closet and be ready to wear it the next time we were together. He sent it to uplift my spirits. He never made it to Miami, because I met him in New York. I never wore it while out with him because he was dead within two days of my arrival. Tonight, I choose to wear it in honor of him and what he constantly encouraged me to do; live my life. He’d be applauding me with the most exaggerated compliments and showering me with endless hugs if he were here. If he wasn’t encouraging me to shine, he’d always push for me to soar. Given the embellishment of my chosen attire for the evening, I’d say I’m in for a night of shining courtesy of him. I hope I make him proud and that tonight’s festivities turn out to be as great as a night out with him would be.

The final touch to complete everything was the result of me starring at myself in the mirror for nearly ten minutes. While covered in black from my darkened hair down to the boots covering a portion of my thigh all the way down to my feet, I couldn’t decide if I should go with a nude lip or a bold red lip. Nude would tone everything down a bit and work with the natural glow I had going on once I completed my make up and the red would be a fiery pop of color needed for a statement. After looking between the two once more, I coated my lips with the red. It’s perfect for Vegas nightlife.

We’re in the lobby. Don’t rush. Just letting you know.

After opening Dante’s text message, I tossed my phone into the clutch bag I wish I didn’t have to carry this evening and I exited the bathroom for the final time. Though I was assured that I didn’t need to bring anything other than myself, I still double checked to make sure I had cash, my debit and credit cards, and most of all, the room keys. I can’t count how many times Heather and I have locked ourselves out of our hotel rooms and had to do the tipsy or sometimes drunken walk of shame down to the lobby for assistance. I don’t want that to have to be my fate tonight. It’s funny with Heather, but it won’t be as hilarious in front of the three gentlemen I’d be hanging out with tonight. Well, Mike would find it funny because he tends to find the funny in everything.

“Good to go.” I said it out loud to stop stalling myself and I finally made my exit while resisting one last visit to the mirror to make sure I wasn’t over or underdone. God knows I’m no where near perfect but I’d at least like to look presentable the majority of the time. That’s a rule by my mother and it’s been passed down by the women in her family from generation to generation. These past two years, I’ve certainly disregarded that and allowed my illness and depression to be the reason for my lack of care for my external appearance. I didn’t feel beautiful so there was no need to attempt to look it. Hell, I still don’t necessarily feel beautiful but I do feel like I’m regaining a lot of my sense of self and that’s a start. Besides that, there are boxes and boxes worth of unworn clothing that I need to put to use. I’d be damned if I just let it sit in the basement collecting dust because it’s a reminder of my time in Miami. Though a lot of it is a few years old; some recent; nothing in fashion is dated as far as I’m concerned. I’ll make every single piece work in some type of way.

The wait for the elevator was no more than a minute, though I expected to wait longer because of the traffic in and out of this place. Once it’s doors opened, I stepped on and was met with the eyes of a man most likely within his early thirties standing on the opposite side of it. Luckily for me, there were a set of buttons on my side as well as and I didn’t have to step into his personal space to press the button for the lobby. While resting against the wall, I did my best to avoid the eye contact that he so badly attempted to get by adjusting his eager position not once but twice, in such an audacious manner. My stomach churned at the sense of his eyes trailing over every aspect of me; undressing and eye fucking me while foolishly covered in a Miami Heat jersey. That’s what made it ironic but mostly ridiculous.

“I’ve seen you before.”

“Have you?” I gazed at the small screen signifying each floor we were surpassing as we descended to the lobby. It baffled me that no one had cause it to stop on a specific floor just yet.

“Yeah. I’m sure I have. I never forget when I see women as beautiful as yourself. You’re married to a Miami Heat player. I’ve seen you. I go to Miami all the time and I’m a big fan of the team.” I knew the NBA Summer League was in town. I’d seen a couple of signs upon arrival, there was a flier amongst the brochures inside of my suite, and Andreas would always fly out here for a day or two to check out the rookies in action before the season. I didn’t think much of it because I truly don’t care and something within me is telling me that he’s not in Vegas anyway. He has a pregnant fiancée to tend to and the summer league isn’t apart of his contract.

Up until now, I haven’t been approached, or awkwardly called out about who they know or believe I am until now. There’s only been a few stares here and there but I’ve grown accustomed to that. That’s been apart of my fate since I sealed it in Los Angeles.

“I’m not married.” My shoulders shrugged as I told him the truth and silence momentarily flushed out the conversation as he did his best to analyze my response.

“You’re not married to one of the players?”

“No.”

“I’ve seen you. I swear I have. I think I even remember what you had on. Game six against the Spurs. You were court side wearing pink.” My lips slightly fell apart at his vivid memory of my bright magenta Gucci attire. I attended all seven games that series; even the ones in San Antonio. Though we were fighting like hell, I still traveled with Andreas and showed up to the American Airlines Arena at home to support he and the team. The Heat won the championship in a ninety five to eighty eight victory over the Spurs. By then, I was far more happy to see Lebron and Bosh get their second rings and Wade his third, over my husband winning his second straight. What I remember most about that championship is being left to look on as the families of those players rushed to the court to shower their Heat heroes with love and praise and a congratulatory job well done. They were covered in confetti while excitedly putting on championship gear over their clothing while I was left off on the sideline to look on. I never got a chance to kiss him in the manner that the other wives kissed their husbands. He immersed himself into the celebration without ever looking for me and I was granted the coldest kiss on the cheek as he sprinted past with his team to head into the locker room to further their celebration by being doused in champagne. Not even the Spurs and their mopey demeanor could identify with what I felt as I left that arena alone that night.

“Mhm. I was there. I was a fan of the team.”

“Was?”

“Mhm.”

“Well what team do you enjoy now?”

“None of them.”

I mentally thanked the man above for his sudden blessing as the two doors slid apart and the pressure within chest ceased. My feet were moving at the same quickened pace of my mind as I quickly exited the elevator and turned the corner. I didn’t expect to be followed by the man but I also didn’t want to move slowly enough for him to further his investigation. A quick Google search would have given him all of the answers he was looking for and I would have been forced to be rude or to put forth my best effort at ignoring the hell out of him. His determination was alarming. I’ve never had anyone ask me that many questions about my ex-husband and our marriage within six years we were together. I’d been offered to appear on multiple platforms throughout our time together and I turned down every single opportunity because I didn’t want the fame nor did I want to leave a bad taste in his mouth. Now that has doubled along with the price tag and I’m still not interested. The less I hear or say about him, the better. Amber can enjoy it.

My eyes landed on the three men I’d been searching for were and they were idly standing amongst one another and sharing a laugh while glancing at whatever was happening outside of the entry doors. Dante was the only one out of the three semi dressed up. Because of the blistering Vegas heat, he opted for white attire from head to toe. The chambray fabric of his button down shirt rested against the build of his upper body beautifully and the the pants were the perfect match. On his feet happened to be one of my favorite pair of casual sneakers to see on a man; the “Torino” model by Buttero. I’d gotten Isaac two pairs for Christmas and though he critiqued them early on, he appreciates them now. You can easily dress them up or dress them down and they work in such a stylish manner. Given how well dressed Dante is, it’s not surprising to see him giving them a go. What I enjoy most about his style is the lack of contrived attempts. No matter what he has on, he always oozes a confidence that allows one to think that he doesn’t belong in anything else within that moment. Right now, this is arguably the best I’ve seen him and I’ve yet to see him look anything other than on point. My lip had been pulled in-between my teeth since I set my sight on him and I’d finally been caught in Mike’s peripheral. The smirk on his face was all too knowing.

“She arrives.”

Our eyes didn’t meet in the way I craved for them to. Instead I was left to watch him gulp down nothing but air as he took in the moment; our moment. His intense glare trailed over every single aspect of my frame; while I bashfully shrunk and mentally melted under the ferocity. His mouth fell agape while a hint of air escaped and exhaled past his lush pink lips and into the atmosphere. If looks could kill, I would have killed over no less than three times. A part of me desired to throw a trench coat over all of it, run upstairs, and start all over and the other half figured that I might as well go through with it.

“Sheesh Autumn! You didn’t have to kill it like that. Damn.” Fredrick’s eyes widened as Dante peeled his eyes away from me and glanced in his direction. The blank expression on his face was all too amusing because it’s clear that the man can’t stand obnoxiousness from anyone and though the comment was towards me, it still irritated him.

“Right Fred. Who are you wearing that for?”

Mike’s smirk grew even bigger and he purposefully and foolishly wiggled his eyebrows to pester me.

“Myself.”

“That’s it?”

“Of course. It’s for me. If anyone else should enjoy it, that’s a bonus right?”

“Looks enjoyable for sure.” Dante elbowed Fredrick in his side for yet another shameless comment or rather compliment and he boldly laughed while slapping Dante on his back. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was saying all of those things to purposefully irritate him.

“Shall we gentlemen?” My arm extended to point ahead.

I walked behind all three of them as we made our exit and instead of driving, we were separated. Dante and I were in the back of a chauffeured Mercedes Benz alone to my surprise. Fredrick and Mike were in back of the SUV in front of us.

“Why didn’t we just go together?”

“Just in case we leave at separate times. Fredrick is usually the last person to leave the club out of the three of us. That’s his environment. He’s not in them as much because he’s in a relationship and I sort of think he’s outgrowing the habit but there are times when he likes to purposefully be a stubborn ass; especially when people point out that he’s changing. I’m not sure why. He found love, which is a great thing. He most likely hates the idea of people tying his change strictly to her but I don’t do that. He’s just growing up. It’s about damn time.”

“Sometimes guys fear losing themselves in the process of committing to person. He’ll get over that. She’s clearly a great woman if he’s making adjustments in his life to suit himself and her in the process.”

“She is. I like her.” He nodded his head to go along with his statement while fidgeting with his fingers as his hands rested in his lap. I’d been staring out of the window since making myself comfortable in the backseat and I’d probably be doing so until our very short ride to Omnia comes to an end. I figured if I focused on Vegas’ luminous lighting and only gave him eye contact when he spoke, I’d save myself the distress of refraining from glancing over his entire being repeatedly. I’d done it more than enough for the evening and would most likely be absentmindedly doing so while we lost ourselves into the hectic flow of the nightclub.

“Autumn.”

“Yeah?”

“You look…” Nice. He’s going to tell me I look nice and I’m going to combust into a fit of nonsensical blushing. “Incredibly sexy tonight. Seriously.”

The skin is the largest organ apart of the human body and every inch of mine viciously tingled in response to his dauntless compliment. My heart beat erratically in my chest while my stomach filled with an onslaught of flutters and tightening beyond my control. I couldn’t find my voice and my lightly blush covered cheeks flushed with warmth. As his potent eyes met mine, I could feel my heart beating in my throat. My body transitioned from an exhilarating rush of emotions to a state of numbness because he’d snatched every part of me with just four words.

“Thank you. You too.” His raspy and gruff voice erupted into a light laughter and it ended with a smirk that weakened my knees though I was sitting. He ruined my comfort. Now I wanted to do nothing more than sprint from the car and walk the rest of the way.

“You’re too polite. You don’t have to pay someone a compliment just because they’ve given you one.”

“But it was a compliment and the truth. The white against your skin is just right.” I refused to look into his eyes again while being so close in proximity of him. I’d no longer be responsible for my actions as the spell of his enchantment moved me to attempt just a few seconds of what I now spend my nights dreaming of. I am caught in his web and he doesn’t even know it nor should he know it. This isn’t supposed to be happening. I’ve crossed all of the boundaries between the two of us while my mind, body, and soul is urging me to push forward and step over the forbidden threshold of the final few that are left. His patience and understanding from our very first encounter with one another engulfed all of me and left him indented on my mind. I’m foolish so it’s of no surprise to me that this is happening on my end but it’s absolutely mind boggling that I’m yet again tampering with my growth in the eyes of my family and friends by walking on the edge of disappointment again. The man is out of my league much like Andreas was and I’m starting to believe I’m drawn to that type of shit. I desire what I cannot and should not have; I enjoy the chase. I’m fairly knew to the crushing concept. Only one other man has gotten me to that point and I only briefly dated him and ended up vowing my life to him. I’ll be damned if I do that again; literally.

“Thank you.”

We wallowed in the intensity of our commentary and thoughts until the sedan came to a halt outside of the nightclub. I didn’t bother waiting for the driver to open the door to make my exit. I’d opened the door and exited the car at the same exact time as he did. I needed the fresh air to calm my stomach so the contents I’d consumed at SW Steakhouse for dinner wouldn’t come flying out of my mouth.

We skipped the line as I expected given the clout all three of them have no matter wherever they are. I was guided inside of the nightclub with Dante’s left hand firmly pressed to the small of my back and we were guided to an upper level VIP area away from the congested dance floor and never-ending traffic heading to and from the strobe light covered bar. They never requested anything by mouth; well at least not from what I noticed. We’d only been sitting for five minutes and bottles of top quality champagne, vodka, cognac, and mixers were being carried over to the table. I’d lost count of how many varieties there were and was even more confused when out everything left for our disposal, Dante and Mike chose Hennessy. At no point has he switched it up and I didn’t know Mike enjoyed it just as much. Fredrick’s a vodka man. As far as myself? I’m a whatever has a fruity flavor type of drinker. I chose to babysit a glass of Ciroc coconut with pineapple juiced mixed in it.

I couldn’t make out the dance floor. People were dancing to the sounds Calvin Harris was spinning from wall to wall. I could barely see him though his booth was raised up high enough for a clear view of him. The lightening stimulated my eyes like a rave; slowing down the movements of all the bodies while flashing each twist, turn, fist pump, and grind repeatedly. The techno and house music wasn’t my flavor for the evening but the alcohol urged me to bop my head and shimmy in my seat while meshed into Dante’s side while he observed the scene. With every sip of his drink, I knew he was taking mental notes for the sake of his client and his own plans for expansion. He’d do that for a few minutes and then he’d fairly return his attention to me by either smiling or squeezing my side. Eventually, we were standing and glancing over the balcony to observe the first floor and I gained the attention of all three of them as well shared playful commentary and laughter about the drunken offbeat dancing and sexual hooks happening. I’d never seen so many strangers randomly making out with one another in my life; not even during those two years of college.

“You enjoying yourself?” His warm breath swarmed my ear while his sultry tone invaded it and I nodded my head before gulping down the amazing drink Mike slid in my direction. He called it a “Zombie” or something along those lines. It’s apricot, orange juice, and rum mixture was superior to the Ciroc I was enjoying a while ago.

“I am. I always have fun with you. Who knew that the quiet business man could be so outgoing?”

“I have fun with those I enjoy having fun with. So you get a bit of credit there as well.”

“You give me too much credit.”

“I don’t think I give you enough, honestly.” He’d done it again. Instead of the goosebumps and stomach flutters, he heightened the warmth the vodka and rum filled my body with and my nipples stiffened against the embellished material covering parts of me.

“There’s nothing more to credit me for.”

“Is that what you think? Well, you’re wrong.”

As he closed the inch of space between our bodies, I took a step back and bumped into a half-drunk Mike who was rocking back and forth to Justin Timberlake’s “Rock Your Body”. He’d taken my mistake as a request to dance and he swiftly wrapped his left arm around my shoulders and swayed the both of us back and forth.

“Let’s go Autumn!” Dante awaited my next move. It was either him or Mike within that moment and I chose the man who’d leave me in one piece. I turned around in his embrace and threw my arm across his shoulder and rocked to the early two thousands hit. Him knowing all of the lyrics to the song and singing it with such a drunken slur made it so much more comedic. The laughter subsided the lust. The dancing filtered out the tension.

We were five songs into a random Timberlake set and we’d gone from trying to imitate Justin to shimmying our shoulders to “Like I Love You”. There was no way I wasn’t dancing to that one. It brought me back to the nights when Heather and I would be running around getting ready to take the campus and the outskirts of Los Angeles by a storm throughout the weekends. Justin was a heavy part of our playlists. We went to see the FutureSex/LoveShow in Madison Square Garden together in two thousand and six.

At the end of the song, I turned around to find Dante and the warmth within my body chilled at the sight of him speaking with a woman I hadn’t seen since we’d been at the nightclub. His back was to me so I couldn’t read much within his facial expressions or body language but hers said it all. The gleam in her bright blue eyes and the way she toyed with her platinum blonde hair while nodding her head to whatever he was saying to her ignited a feeling within my body that was all too familiar over the past couple of years of my life. I tensed while my lips tightened and no matter how much I wanted to shake it off, I couldn’t. I had no right and yet I couldn’t win the ridiculous battle against the unspoken resentment I chose to inflict upon him for doing what any single man has the right to do.

“She’s business.”

“What?” It wasn’t Mike in my ear. It was Fredrick, who’d been extremely mellow throughout the night. Dante’s right when he talks about him outgrowing places like this. If anything, he’s going to be the first person to go.

“She’s business. She’s one of the co-owners of this place. They’ve been trying to get Dante to buy into Omnia for a while now but he’s not interested so at this point, they just want to partner with A&M for representation and he’s not interested in that either. He’s not checking for her like that. Actually, he’s not checking for her at all.”

“It doesn’t matter if he is or if he isn’t.”

“I think it does. Why else would you be staring over there with so much tension radiating from your body? Dante only wants one woman in this room and it’s damn sure not her. I don’t think you need me to help you figure out who that woman is.”

My hand gripped the glassed filled the “Zombie” and I gulped down the majority of it.

“Alcohol doesn’t decrease your desires. It enhances them.” His sly chuckle as he stepped back nearly made me want to toss the rest of the contents inside of the glass on the floor. To say I felt exposed would have been an understatement. I couldn’t stand to look at the smug expression on his face any longer so I wandered off to find the bathroom so I could get some of the alcohol off of my bladder.

I spent ten minutes in the bathroom and another five standing downstairs in an attempt to clear my mind and straighten out my thoughts. In moments like this, I’d be texting Heather so she could either say some imbecilic advice or a joke to get me going but I know if I texted her right now, she’d only lash out at me for denying the truth she was attempting to provide me with earlier and she’d hang up. In addition to that, I’d be waking her up and she hates when she’s woken up; especially if it’s not for an emergency so I’ll refrain from doing that until tomorrow. She’d tell me to put my big girl thongs on and handle my shit anyway.

My eyes could barely remain focused on the sights in front of me as I crept up the steps. Each huff from my mouth allowed my nose to understand just how much alcohol I’d consumed and my slightly dazed expression told the story. I saw myself in the bathroom’s mirror while other women in my predicament either complimented or lusted over my attire. While standing and observing the flooded dance floor, two different guys flirted with me within that five minute time frame and I felt absolutely nothing. It was by far the most annoying interaction I’d encountered throughout the night and it was because of them that I decided to come back upstairs in the first place. Now as the man in my dreams comes into view, I wish I’d stayed. Why the hell couldn’t I enjoy the flirting or set my eyes on some attractive man out on the dance floor so I could know that what I’m feeling is nothing more than suppressed teenage antics.

“Where were you?”

“Bathroom.”

“All this time?” He placed his hand on my shoulder and narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah and I was looking out on the dance floor for the hell of it. Now, here I am.”

“You ready to go?”

“Yes.”

I was hoping he’d say that. All I want to do is return to my suite, strip out of everything, sit in the shower for two hours, and sleep the alcohol off. Actually no, I don’t want to go to sleep. I want the shower, the comfortable robe, a order of wings from the twenty four hour room service and a black and white film. I’ll take a nap later or I’ll sleep when I’m in Miami for the week for Heather’s bachelorette party, wedding rehearsals, rehearsal dinner, and the actual wedding. He’ll be in New York and I’ll be far too busy to be consumed with thoughts of him all damn day and salacious dreams of him all damn night.

“Okay. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

We left without bidding the other part of our group goodbyes. He’d already told them we were going to leave before even knowing if I’d say yes or not. Our ride back to the hotel was filled with him questioning if I was okay. He’s immune to Hennessy. I’m sure of it. While walking into the lobby his stance never faltered. His gigantic eyes remained their normal size. The mint in his mouth didn’t even mesh with the cognac. It over powered it. How the hell is he like that? He’s an enigma; some type of paradox. I’m being tested and I’ve been tested enough. Give me a break!

“The doors won’t close if you continue standing in-between them. Come here.” I stood in-between the doors of the elevator because I contemplated catching the second one so I could get away from him sooner. Now that his arm is around my waist and drawing me inside, I should have. I should have taken the stairs. Walking up like fifty floors would have been better. Fifty? Wait, where is my room?

“You enjoyed yourself tonight?”

“You have a high tolerance for alcohol.”

“I only had two glasses. I wasn’t in a drinking mood.”

I could no longer hear whatever he was saying to me as I looked into his eyes. Self-control and my sense of self evaporated while faint tremors and an aching desire overwhelmed me. I needed to know what it’d feel like. I want to know if it’s as magical as it seems within my dreams. The softness; the warmness. Just one time.

Just once.

I placed my hand to his smooth cheek and enclosed my lips around his own.

I’ve never felt more alive.

What trickled through the blinds wasn’t the morning sunlight. I can sleep through that. The peak of the early afternoon sun is what’s leaving my eyes and head in agony no matter how many pillows I cover my head with. As my mind began to trickle out the remaining images of my erotic dream, a large huff slipped past my lips as I soaked up the warmth of the covers and the plushness of the mattress. I inhaled to prepare for a few breathing exercises I tend to do when I’m trying to rid myself of a headache, and I nearly tossed the pillow across the room due to all too familiar scent that has absolutely nothing to do with my own. My eyes flew open and I quickly sat up and glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings. The Air Jordans next to the chair on the opposite side of the room confirmed what I was praying wasn’t true was indeed the truth. In the chair were the Tom Ford boots I’d danced around Omnia in. My eyes nervously panned down and I noticed my dress was still on. The zipper was still up.

My hand flew up to my head as I did my best to recall last night’s festivities.

We went to the club. I know that. We hung out. We drank. I walked around I believe. Mike and I danced or maybe we didn’t. No, we did. We definitely did. What time did we leave?

As I swung my feet over and planted them on the floor, I glanced over at the nightstand and saw my clutch bag and a note on top of it.

Peaches, 

We left out to check out two properties. You were sleeping so peacefully and you hardly ever sleep, so I wasn’t going to wake you. Don’t be mad at me. Order some room service, but don’t get anything too heavy. We’re going out for pizza when I get back; just you and I. There’s a great spot in the area. See you in a bit.

Dante and I left together. It was just us. We came back to the hotel. We were on the elevator. It was just us. Who pressed the button for the floors? Was it me? We were talking on the elevator. I kissed him and then…

I kissed him.

I ran my hand down my face as frustration filled my body. I kissed the man and I don’t even understand how I got to that point.

Did he kiss me back?

I dreamed about giving myself to him with him next to me?

I could scream.

Why am I always the aggressor? Why can’t I just wait for someone to be interested enough in me to approach me, flirt, ask me out on a date or two, and finally kiss me. Isn’t that how these things go? It happens for Heather that way. It happens for Rachel that way. It happened between my brother and Lauren that way. I’ve heard my parents love story more times than I’ve wanted to and it happened that way and here I am throwing myself at someone…again.

As I placed the note along side me, I grabbed my clutch bag, unzipped it and grabbed my phone. I had missed calls from both of my parents and Rachel. I didn’t bother returning any of those. Instead, I went to my call log and tapped the number I certainly needed to be calling. While fiddling with the note, I listened to three long form rings until there was a connection.

“Autumn, I’m literally walking to the conference room for a meeting as I speak. Can whatever this is wait? I’ll call you when I get out of there.”

“Isaac, I quit.”

[thefilmsnob]

Glen Coco’s Top 10 Films of 2018

As with my Oscar Predictions, I’m just going to forgo a flowery prelude and dive right into this nonsense. But first, I’ll list the runners-up and the traditional bonus track. There’s always a bonus track.

Runners-Up

-Annihilation

-At Eternity’s Gate

-Avengers: Infinity War

Full Review: http://thefilmsnob.tumblr.com/post/173652439630/avengers-infinity-war-12-out-of-5

-Can You Ever Forgive Me?

-First Man

-Game Night

-Grinch, The

Full Review: http://thefilmsnob.tumblr.com/post/180497247345/the-grinch12-out-of-5

-If Beale Street Could Talk

And here are my top 10!

#10b. (Bonus Track) Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse

Director: Bob Persichetti, Peter Ramsey, Rodney Rothman (Three directors. Jesus.)

Starring: Shameik Moore, Jake Johnson, Hailee Steinfeld

At first glance, this seems like an unnecessary endeavour, especially since we’re not hurting for Spider-Man films. Yet, although the final act is a bit of a blur and there’s some clutter here and there, this a gorgeous, innovative and hilarious spin on the Spider-Man mythology. We follow Miles Morales, an Afro-Latino teen who becomes another universe’s Spider-Man and must unite with even more alternate-universe web-slingers to save the day in the classic comic book tradition. Miles and his supporting cast are beyond likable, especially Spider-Ham who has the likeness of a little pig. It’s also refreshing to see some eye-popping animation that diverges from the standard Disney/Pixar fair. It even changes styles with various characters. The cherry on top of this cinematic desert is the humour which includes one of the funniest throwaway lines you’ll ever hear regarding a bagel.

#10. Green Book

Director: Peter Farrelly

Starring: Viggo Mortensen, Mahershala Ali, Linda Cardellini

You could argue that it’s been done before or that it’s a little too corny in places or that Viggo Mortensen’s performance verges on caricature. Or you can accept the minor flaws and enjoy this beautiful story of friendship and its undeniably charming characters. Frank Vallelonga aka Tony Lip is tasked with driving pianist ‘Doc’ Don Shirley through the racially intolerant American deep south of the ‘60s for a concert tour in a film that’s important and informative, especially in today’s sociopolitical climate. But, what makes it so charming is the friendship that forms gradually between two polar opposites--the boorish, ignorant loudmouth, Tony, and the sophisticated, articulate gentleman, Don--a friendship that’s completely engrossing and a wonderful example of how people can and should look past their differences. It helps that Mortensen completely transforms himself as Tony and Mahershala Ali gives a pitch perfect performance, maybe the best of his career. So, ya, there’s some sap, but maybe we can use a little of that right now.

#9. Isle of Dogs

Director: Wes Anderson

Starring: Koyu Rankin, Bryan Cranston, Edward Norton, Bill Murray, Jeff Goldblum, Scarlett Johansson

2018 was a great year for animated features and like Into the Spider-Verse, Isle of Dogs moves away from the Pixar model to give us a uniquely textured and imaginative look at a dystopian Japan of the near-future. By turns charming and unsettling, the story follows a young boy named Atari who searches for his dog Spots on Trash Island after the species was banished there following a canine flu outbreak. He’s helped by a group of dogs voiced by a who’s who of Wes Anderson favourites including most of the actors listed above. The dogs are already well developed and fun to watch, but these familiar voices make it that much easier to identify with them. There are plenty of intriguing social and political themes at work for a cartoon and Anderson adds his signature quirky tone and deadpan humour, but it’s the impeccably detailed stop-motion animation coupled with some truly inspired action sequences that make this movie come alive.   

#8. Roma

Director: Alfonso Cuaron

Starring: Yalitza Aparicio, Marina de Tavira

One of cinema’s greatest qualities is its ability to challenge society and its ugliest of tendencies. Whereas men like Donald Trump would try to convince you that Mexicans are all drug dealers and rapists, director Alfonso Cuaron and his film Roma introduce you to the real Mexico and an ordinary group of people not so dissimilar from you and me. But, because Cuaron’s at the helm, the commonplace becomes a thing of beauty and, with the help of newcomer Yalitza Aparicio, an ordinary maid to a wealthy family becomes a hero, a transformation that sneaks up on you before taking your breath away. As you begin to watch, you may struggle to understand what all the fuss is about, but gradually you become almost hypnotized by Cuaron’s slow, smooth, contemplative camera pans and crisp black & white presentation that feels more colourful than most films. These qualities factor into some of the most quietly powerful scenes you’ll see in film like the beach sequence, devoid of the usual pyrotechnics yet destined to become iconic.

#7. Widows

Director: Steve McQueen

Starring: Viola Davis, Colin Farrell, Michelle Rodriguez, Elizabeth Debicki, Liam Neeson

Director Steve McQueen follows up his 2013 masterpiece 12 Years a Slave with another extraordinary film about a group of resilient women who take up the work of their husbands who died in a botched robbery and steal a large sum of money to pay back a crime boss in order to finance his electoral campaign. Did you get all that? If not, you will during a viewing because, though screenwriters McQueen and Gillian Flynn weave a complex web of crime, revenge, political corruption and social injustice, ultimately it’s easy to follow and even easier to enjoy. This quartet of ladies is a pleasure to watch in action, especially the Oscar snubbed Viola Davis, facing numerous threats including a truly sinister villain played by Daniel Kaluuya and a few corrupt politicians in a movie that has no shortage of plot twists and turns. The best shot of the movie, thanks to McQueen and cinematographer Sean Bobbitt, places our vantage point on the hood of a limo during a fabulous extended take. The wealthy politician played by Colin Farrell discusses business with his assistant within the car as our eyes remain fixed on the neighborhoods around them that start out impoverished then become gradually wealthier until they reach their headquarters. This one shot tells us so very much. Widows is more plausible, insightful and nuanced than most heist films and one you really ought to see instead of Ocean’s 8.

#6. BlacKkKlansman

Director: Spike Lee

Starring: John David Washington, Adam Driver, Laura Harrier, Topher Grace

This is one of the most bizarre stories told this year and would be so unbelievable if it wasn’t based on real events. In a return to form for writer/director Spike Lee, BlacKkKlansman recounts that crazy time when the first black detective in the Colorado Springs Police Department, Ron Stallworth (played with boundless charisma by John David Washington) infiltrates a local chapter of the Ku Klux Klan. The only thing is, that plan would be insane. So, fellow detective Philip ‘Flip’ Zimmerman (Adam Driver) acts as his surrogate when ‘Stallworth’ has to meet the Klan in person. This old story, right? In this briskly paced film full of snappy dialogue, Lee does the impossible and finds the humour in the situation. He walks the finest of lines and keeps his balance, imbuing the film with a light tone and some actual laugh-out-loud moments while refusing to allow the comedy to undermine the serious nature of the issues he raises. The movie works as a comedy, drama, thriller and, with the help of Terence Blanchard’s nostalgic score, a ‘70s style action flick. Honestly, Topher Grace portraying the nonchalantly evil ‘Grand Wizard’ David Duke is worth the price of admission.  

#5. A Star is Born

Director: Bradley Cooper

Starring: Bradley Cooper, Lady Gaga, Sam Elliott

How is it that a film that’s been remade 57 times starring a woman who’s never headlined a movie, directed by a man who’s never directed is one of the best films of the year? It’s due to writer/director/actor *huff puff* singer/producer Bradly Cooper who’s made the familiar gritty, more contemporary and painfully honest, enlivened by stellar performances, both musical and dramatic. The old story of the the scruffy, alcoholic veteran singer (Cooper) who meets, falls in love with, mentors and harms the career of the vivacious undiscovered prodigy (Lady Gaga) feels surprisingly fresh. We know Cooper is a great actor and Gaga can sing like an angel, but who knew the former could sing and the latter could act? When the duo sings ‘Shallow’, the best original song of the year, it starts out great, but when Gaga takes center stage and belts out that chorus, it’s purely sublime. This film really benefits from its authenticity; not only is this true of the acting and dialogue, but of the musical performances as well. Each one feels like an actual live event and, in fact, some were even filmed at real music festivals like Coachella and Glastonbury with real audiences. And, yet, they feel  deeply personal, despite the grand scale which is true of the film as a whole.

Full Review: http://thefilmsnob.tumblr.com/post/179054198000/a-star-is-born-out-of-5

#4. The Favourite

Director: Yorgos Lanthimos

Starring: Olivia Colman, Emma Stone, Rachel Weisz

If you’ve overlooked The Favourite out of fear that it’s a stereotypically stuffy historical drama, you might want to reconsider because this isn’t your grandma’s period piece. This film has everything: crazy monarchs, duck racing, gun-toting duchesses, rooms full of bunny rabbits, aristocratic love triangles and even some insane 18th century breakdancing. And that’s not including the deliciously alluring plot involving Queen Anne’s (Olivia Colman) advisor Sarah (Rachel Weisz) and her impoverished younger cousin Abigail (Emma Stone) vying for the affections of the queen in order to become her ‘favourite’ with the schemes  growing more ruthless as the movie unfolds. The goal of this farce is to highlight the ridiculousness of unlimited power and those who’d strive for it, especially amidst an unseen war occurring in the background. You’d be hard-pressed to find a better trio of performers in 2018; the three lead women are sensational and deserve their Oscar nominations. You’d also be hard-pressed to find a more peculiar looking film. Director Yorgos Lanthimos and cinematographer Robbie Ryan use some truly bizarre yet stunning lenses and camera pans. At certain points, it’s as if we’re looking through a telescope, observing these snobs and their shenanigans like a twisted social experiment, luckily from a safe distance.

#3. Leave No Trace

Director: Debra Granik

Starring: Ben Foster, Thomasin McKenzie

For a film that’s the second-most reviewed motion picture with a rating of 100% on Rotten Tomatoes, you’d think more people would know about it or at least give it some recognition at awards shows. But, that wasn’t in the cards for this incredibly touching indie film about an Iraq War vet, Will (Ben Foster), suffering from PTSD and living with his 13-year-old daughter, Tom (Thomasin McKenzie), in a public park in Portland, Oregon. They live in fear of being discovered and forced to live in society. Both actors give such raw and convincing performances within this heartwarming, at times heartbreaking, father-daughter relationship. This, combined with director Debra Granik’s naturalistic approach and Michael McDonaugh’s vivid photography, makes the movie feel almost like a documentary. Consequently, some passages feel so intense that the characters’ anxiety becomes palpable as when the two are lost in the dangerously cold forest with only minutes to build a shelter. Writers Granik and Anne Rosellini do a masterful job at exposing the agony of mental illness and the awful treatment of some veterans yet refuse to paint Will as a saint and the authorities as evil. We understand the perspectives of everyone involved who are just trying to do what’s right for the young girl born into someone else’s pain.    

#2. A Quiet Place

Director: John Krasinski

Starring: John Krasinski, Emily Blunt

Like Bradley Cooper, John Krasinski is way out of his comfort zone, taking on triple duty as writer, director and star of a horror film despite his mostly comedic background. In a genre whose output is usually pitiful, Krasinski excels by eschewing the standard group of disposable teens for an intelligent and loving family for whom we care deeply and instantly. The premise, involving the few survivors on Earth trying to avoid creatures with impeccable hearing by staying virtually silent, might seem gimmicky at first, but Krasinski explores its full potential as it evolves in ways that are so creative and complex that you could argue it’s one of the best allegories for our current political climate or dictatorships in general. The film also looks and sounds gorgeous with crisp shots from Krasinski and cinematographer Charlotte Bruus Chistensen that are rich in information and sheer beauty, accompanied by the wonderful score from Marco Beltrami. The acting is great all around, but Blunt is on another level, expressing terror in some of the most nerve-wracking sequences imaginable, exquisitely staged by her real-life husband. And the ending is pitch perfect; at once revelatory and obvious, it makes complete sense with regards to the film’s established rules yet makes us look at what preceded it in an entirely new light.  

Full Review: http://thefilmsnob.tumblr.com/post/173081465380/a-quiet-place-out-of-5

#1. First Reformed

Director: Paul Schrader

Starring: Ethan Hawke, Amanda Seyfried, Cedric Kyles

*I promise this is the last time I’ll talk about this film. It’s the start of a new movie cycle and I’m looking ahead. You will not here another word out of me about how this movie and Ethan Hawke were robbed of accolades as I cried myself to sleep 27 times since the nominees were announced......anywho:

Paul Schrader is responsible for writing some of history’s most lauded and iconic movies like Taxi Driver, Raging Bull and The Last Temptation of Christ, and now he’s written and directed First Reformed, a movie that rivals even those classics. It’s tragic that no one’s heard of it. In possibly his most demanding, powerful, complex and, ultimately, greatest performance, Ethan Hawke plays Ernst Toller, reverend of the First Reformed Church that mostly serves as a tourist attraction. Already dealing its declining attendance, alcoholism and the death of a his son, he now has to deal with a crisis of faith after speaking with a despondent radical environmentalist who challenges Toller’s beliefs, causing the reverend to mentally and spiritually unravel throughout the film while battling physical illness just for good measure. Obviously, this isn’t a popcorn flick, yet it’s so profound, topical, haunting and mesmerizing. Cinematographer Alexander Dynan helps Schrader create an almost horror movie feel which is appropriate for dealing with issues like a deteriorating man and the end of the world. There are so many striking, if not shocking, images on display and at times the film enters into the realm of the surreal. This is truly a work of art that challenges you to think critically about the world and where we’re headed. When you add these heavy themes to the stellar acting, directing, writing and overall grandeur of the film, you get the one true masterpiece of 2018.