#‘your found family is stupid and so are you’ taylor you champ

[crimsonclad]

you have to admit it is pretty funny that after the LSD brownies incident, Buck is all “omg thank you so much for protecting my adoptive dad 🥺 for my sake 🥺 he’s everything to me 😚❓❓❓” and Taylor Kelly is like “haha that’s so stupid, I wanted to humiliate all of you for ratings, grow up”

[sunjaesol]

clandestine meetings and longing stares

juke secret dating au | title: illicit affairs // taylor swift | a middle of the night scribble

When twelve year old Julie Molina got a stern talk from her father that she wasn't allowed to date until college, the tween had no qualms with it. The only boy she's ever liked had been Sokka from Avatar and that was it. Real boys didn't interest her. 

Until she turned sixteen and caught sight of Luke Patterson. 

In the years between, she had small crushes here and there. Lance, Nick, Noah. None, however, competed with storm that erupted in her stomach each time Luke smiled at her - her heart in a constant frenzy. 

It was the beginning of junior year when he randomly sat next to her in music class and brought out all the bravado. It shouldn't have been cute. Julie should've rolled her eyes, dismissed his cute smirk, but she simply couldn't. The shimmering green of his eyes and the nice laugh was too alluring, too attractive. Soon enough, Julie was crushing on him hard. Which was fortunate, since he very much liked her as well, something he never hid from her. 

("Watch out, Julie," he joked during one of their first conversations. "The charm is gonna make you get a crush on me!") 

Luke kissed her two weeks after, chastely and secretly under the bleachers. Her infatuated mind forgot in that moment how she wasn't even allowed to look at a guy and eagerly kissed him back. It had been her first kiss and wow - what a perfect one at that. 

A beat later, she realised her mistake and told him about her dad's stupid rule. His face had crashed for all of ten seconds when a mischievous grin crawled on his lips (an expression that would get her into serious trouble one day) and said: "Why tell him?" 

Had it been any other boy, she would've shaken her head and regret kissing him. But this was Luke. She really liked Luke. The idea of not being with him, of not seeing where this could go, was a greater fear than her father's disappointment. In response, she snatched him back into a kiss he all too hungrily went along with. 

Rule #1: Don't date! Broken, busted, thrown out the window with a smile. 

It started off easy. At school, no one had to worry. She sat with him at lunch and let herself be coaxed under the bleachers and snuggled into his embrace at the end of the day. On the parking lot, she could pretend she was simply saying goodbye to her boyfriend and not going home to lie in her dad's face about why she was so overly chipper all of a sudden. 

(Luke made her so ridiculously happy it was unfair. Each time he surprised her with a hug, her feet lifted from the ground; each time they kissed, his thumbs grazed her cheeks like she was a precious gem; each time she came up with a clever lyric, he gave her the toothiest grin and called her all the cute nicknames he could think of. Boss, baby, babe, Lyric Queen.) 

God, she was complete mush for this boy. Sometimes she wondered if she was doing enough, not quite matching his overt display of affection, but she knew she must be doing something right if he never stopped smiling when she talked. That his eyes held a certain softness, timidness, reserved for her only. 

They outgrew school quickly. Both wanted to go on dates without raising suspicion, Luke wanted to come over and just be with her without causing havoc. 

"Why does the rule exist anyway?", he asked at the end of a cool December day. 

Julie toyed with the lapels of his red shacket. "It's dumb. I mean, I get it, but it's dumb." Sighing, she explained his reasoning. "He wants me to fully focus on school so that I can get into a good college. Once I secured that, then I'm allowed to have fun."

Luke frowned. "I- I guess I kind of get it."

Her eyes rolled teasingly. "You don't even want to go to college." 

"Correction: I wanna go to frat parties and have the college experience-" 

"Without the classes part," she deadpanned. His face fell flat, a giggle of her own following. 

His frown returned, a look she hated seeing. "You don't think he'll… I don't know, let go of that rule when he sees we're good?" His calloused hands slipped from her waist to softly cradle her face. Julie sighed, leaning into the touch. Resisting Luke and everything he did was hard. A smile twitched on his lips. "Would be pretty dope to come through the front door and kiss my girlfriend."

Her heart clenched at his confession. It would be amazing, but it sounded so unbelievable that it could easily be taken as a joke. Dad would go absolutely insane if she pulled something like that. Hey dad! Don't mind me as I jump into the arms of my boyfriend and he kisses me like a heartthrob from the movies! 

She should've known Luke would try something. His impulsivity was an admirable trait, she found, though the pebbles hitting her window past midnight have her such a fright that she cursed for a beat how one track minded he could be. Until she caught sight of him. Eyes twinkling in the moonlight, a wide smile, his casual stance. He pointed at her and she nodded, grabbing her phone to text him there was a ladder by the garage. 

Quiet like a ghost and quick like a fox, Luke snuck into her room, feet falling onto the floor with a soft thud. 

Butterflies raged in her stomach. Her secret boyfriend was here, in her room, right now, with her father sleeping just down the hall. 

"What're you doing here?", she whispered, already breathless from having him near. 

His nose scrunched up. "Trying to be romantic. Should I have called you first?" 

She shook her head. "It's fine. Maybe next time. It's-" Her arms slung around his shoulders, heart hammering a mile a minute. Her pyjamas were nothing special, an oversized pullover and sweatshorts, but it felt oddly intimate to be so cozy together. His own faded t-shirt was from a zoo in Oregon and his sweatpants softer than any of the ones she owned. Julie almost asked to borrow them, if it wasn't for his lips to swallow the words with a warm kiss. 

Her fingers slipped into his hair. Yeah. This was better than talking. 

It soon became routine. Every other week, Luke would text her a moon emoji and then climb into her room around midnight. They'd kiss and cuddle, Luke often leaving by five am and then making a whole show at school as if he hadn't seen her. Julie thought it was cute. If she could, she'd return the favour and go to his place, but Luke assured her she did not want that and, consequently, her father would just know. Unfortunately, she didn't have Luke's agility like some parkour champ. 

"Trust me, Jules, I don't mind," he told her at lunch while stealing a cherry tomato. "I like sneaking in."

Alex shot him a look. "You like feeling like the main character of a movie, that's what."

"You brainwashed me with romcoms, so it's your fault, dude,' Luke retorted, grinning when the blonde flipped him off. 

They got cocky though. Julie knew her dad would be gone during the day for a photography gig in Santa Monica, all the way on the other side of Los Angeles. It was the perfect excuse to get Luke over. Excited, Julie opened the front door for him with a flourish and did a silly courtesy. 

"Your first time using my door," she teased. "Must feel special."

His cocky nod made her roll her eyes. "Super special," he replied gravely, playing along. "She's been begging for me."

Her expression turned sour. "I haven't been begging for you." 

His smirk widened, tugging on a curl as he slipped past her. "Was I talking about you?" 

He didn't, but he did start making out with her the second they were in the safety of her bedroom, so she knew there wasn't much competition. 

That afternoon, they successfully avoided her dad's wrath and felt arrogantly confident about it. It made them daring. Pushing the limits, how far could they go, how blatant could they be before he knew? It was almost a game, the thrill part of the insane attraction she felt each time he snuck in. 

His strong arms were wrapped around her as she straddled his waist, kissing him. Every touch was languid and intentional, a searing passion that rippled her skin and left her mind empty. Kissing Luke always put her in a dreamy, blissful haze. Her fingers clawed at his shirt and he shrugged it off in one fluid motion, pulling her back in. His skin was warm, hers to explore. Julie grinned into the kiss. His fingers toyed with the hem of her top.  

"Julie?" 

They froze. Her dad. Other side of the door. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. As quietly as possible, the girl hoisted herself from his lap and motioned at her closet. 

"Julie?" The door handle began to shake. 

Her voice squeaked. "Just a second!" Luke tiptoes into her closet, Julie kicking his shirt under her bed as she ran to the door. Her flushed cheeks would be a dead giveaway had her father ever doubt her trust. Fortunately, Julie Molina was in the eyes of her family a perfect good girl. 

(The guy hiding in her closet would whisper something else in her ear.)

"Why is your door locked?" Dad frowned. "You never lock your door."

Julie shrugged, innocence leaking from her tone. "I can't have some privacy?" 

"Of course, Julie," he said, though his lips were pressed into a thin smile. This clearly wasn't the last time they'd talk about it. "I'm going to the store. Do you need something?" 

"No, thanks," she rushed. "Anything else?" 

"Uh, no. Don't lock yourself in, hm?" It was said as a joke, his brows lifted, but both she and her father knew he meant it. No more locking doors. Shit. 

When the front door fell shut and the car rumbled into the street, Luke reappeared with a careful smile. 

Julie sighed. "That… was close. Maybe we should stop hanging out right after school. I didn't even hear him coming up the stairs."

"Damn, Jules!” Peppering two kisses on her forehead, it did little to relief her stress. “Now that's an ego booster."

"I'm serious!" She huffed. "I hate this. I hate the rule and I hate that I'm making you put up with it."

"Hey, hey," he soothed. "It's shitty, yeah, but you're not making me do anything." Nodding at her lips, he added: "Your smile is already…" 

The smile bloomed on its own accord when he trailed off, edging closer. "What?" 

That little shake of his head almost made her kiss him, but she wanted to know what he was going to say, why his lips were parted in that wonderstruck expression. When nothing came, a curious hum rumbled in her throat as she placed her chin on his chest. 

He relented, tapping a finger against her cheek. “Your smile is already making me do dumb stuff.”

Oh, God. If he was going to continue saying things like that, she might actually fall in love with him. Back when Julie and Flynn were still obsessed with those relationship quizzes in magazines, she always claimed she’d like guys that weren’t so smooth with their words. She thought it meant they were players. But Luke never half-assed anything. 

Her head tilted, amused. “Do you always have words ready?”

“Zero words, Jules,” he quipped. “Ever.”

Yeah, she might actually love him. 

Public dates became a thing after that conversation. She simply couldn’t let him get away because of some rule, even if he claimed he wouldn’t. Eats & Beats was a cute, little café in the heart of Los Feliz with live music and amazing lattes; it was also their regular spot. They’d settle themselves into a booth, share a baked good (“If we’re trying the carrot cake now, we’re doing the pastel de nata next week.” “Deal.”) and talk for hours. Sometimes, when either was tinkering on a song, they’d work on it together.

One leg overlapped his, his fingers drawing pictures on her knee. The booth with the suede red couches and the scratching of a star in the wood was their safe haven.  

“Mh, no,” she swallowed the piece of muffin. “That’s such an ugly word, don’t use that.”

He grinned, shoulders nudging as a tease. “Drencher not doing it for you?”

A laugh bubbled up, kissing his cheek. “Just use ‘rain’, you dork!”

“Dork?”, he mocked, getting in her face. 

“Yeah.” Her nose brushed his. “Dork.” 

“You are a dork.”

“That’s the best you’ve got, Patterson?”

Luke smirked, eyes flicking across her frame. “Want me to show you my best, Molina?”

She pushed his face away, a blush creeping up her cheekbones. They haven’t done it yet, but whenever he got like this, she felt her entire skin heat up at the mere idea. A part of her wanted to take that step, but she felt bad doing it if her dad or tía didn’t know. Knowing that they wouldn’t support her for as long as the rule existed, made her settle with that heat for a little longer. Her leg slipped from his and turned back to his songbook. 

“So-”

“Julie?”

The couple looked up, once more paralysed as her dad’s familiar voice called her name. Why was he literally everywhere?! His tall figure stood in front of their booth, his hat shrouding the grimace on his face as his scrutinising eyes flitted between them. Oh, God. Did he know? Did he see? How much did he see? Did he see Luke checking her out? Mortification didn’t even come close to what she felt. 

“Dad!” Her pressed smile hopefully looked relaxed to him. Her dad had moments of obliviousness; she might be able to save this. “What- hi, I didn’t know you had a booking here.”

His suspicion didn’t waver. “Yeah, honey, for the Rodriguez’ - I told you last night. Was just getting, ah, coffee.” He nodded at Luke. “Who’s this?”

My boyfriend. The one I’m falling for. The boy I’ve been hiding for months. “This is Luke, he’s one of my classmates.” The way his arm tensed at the label made her ache, but she had to truck on. “We’re working on a song.”

If he didn’t believe her, she just hurt her boyfriend for no reason. It did the trick though. Her father’s face mellowed, noticing the scribbles in the tattered book. “You’re working on a song?”

“Yeah. It’s really getting along.” Her finger tapped against his thigh. “Right, Luke?”

He perked up, a cough following as he straightened his attitude. This really was not the way she wanted them to meet. “Uh, yeah.” His hand stuck out. “Hi, mister Molina.”

Dad shook it with a smile, fully relaxed now. “Ray. Nice to meet you.” The barista called out his name. “See you at home, Julie. Don’t stay out long, yeah?”

Her smile twitched and crashed the second he turned around, grabbed his coffee and closed the glass door. She groaned, dropping her head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“I gotta be honest,” he whispered. “That hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

Luke sighed. “I was okay being a secret before, but…”

She coaxed his jaw, needing him to look at her. “It’ll hurt more if I tell him and forces me to break up with you.”

For a moment, silence sunk onto the table, wedging itself like thick smoke between her and Luke. He seemed pensive, the green of his eyes peering. Suddenly, they lit up. “But wait, aren’t you getting your results? Early admission?”

She sagged in her seat, pouting. “If UCLA wants me.”

“They will,” he smiled. His arms wrapped around her. “Of course, they will. And if you get in, he can’t be mad that you’re dating me, right?”

Hope tinged her chest. She hasn’t considered that. She’s been so focused on Luke and trying to keep it hidden, that everything college-related went over her head. The letters and essays and interviews happened before she and Luke got serious, so with her being on that pink cloud ever since, school stress has been locked away. Why bother mulling over UCLA when she could be having fun with Luke? 

If she locked in UCLA… then Luke might be right. And if not UCLA, then she’d hear of USC and NYU next year. (If they were even still together by the time those letters got in the mail.) 

“You might’ve found the loophole,” she teased, hoping to lift the tension. And then she uttered out her biggest fear: “But if you haven’t… will you stay?”

His kiss answered her, soft and sweet and with a hint of blueberry muffin. A grin bloomed on her lips, burrowing her face in his shoulder. She felt it. That overflowing, unbridled adoration overwhelming her all at once. Julie loved him. It was April fourteenth and it only took her six months but Julie loved Luke. They stayed in the booth until they had to go home.

Her phone was mocking her. Luke and her were in her car, stagnant, as both stared at the white screen. Every few minutes, she refreshed it, yet no email came. Gah! Couldn’t colleges just send the email when they said they would? What was taking so long? Did that mean she didn’t get in? Was this a bad sign? It helped having Luke there, easing the rising stress that clenched her ribcage, but she wouldn’t be fully okay until that freaking email come through. 

As if sensing her thoughts, he drummed against the dashboard. “It’s gonna be cool. You look great in blue and gold, you gotta get in.”

She giggled, nerves lacing her tone. “Imagine if that’s how you got in. You’d get into USC then.”

“Are you saying I look hot in red?”, he teased. 

“You know you- oh my God!” She lurched for her phone as a new email pinged in, heartbeat stuttering in her ears. Frozen, her thumb hovered over the fated email. This would change everything - for better or for worse. She knew she should focus on the fact that it would determine where she’d go to college, but all she could think about was Luke, Luke, Luke. Was it selfish to care more about junior prom then UCLA? At this very moment, she thought it was completely justified. 

She shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t do it. You open it.”

His brows raised. “You sure?”

“Yeah-” She stuffed the phone in his hand and put her trembling ones on her lap. “-do it for me.”

Luke took a deep breath. Julie shut her eyes. Please. Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please accept her. Please let her be with Luke.

Ten seconds passed. His voice gave nothing away. “Julie?”

“Just rip the band-aid off,” she choked out.   

A familiar, calloused hand softly grabbed hers. Her eyes cracked open. Luke had the biggest smile on his face and it made her heart pop out of her chest. She bit down on her lip, fighting off a grin. “Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not,” he sang, reaching across the console to show her phone. You got accepted! blinked in bold, black letters. “You’re UCLA bound, baby!”

Euphoria burst out. Julie squealed, throwing her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a searing kiss. She got in! She fucking got into college! A great one at that! Another Molina was going for gold! 

And it might even get her to date Luke without secrecy. God, she hoped this was enough. She wanted to do everything with him. All the time, the entire time. Flynn has called them clingy, but Julie just wanted to get rid of the anxiety of her dad finding out. To finally relax and be fully with him.

Her head tilted, bashful. “Is it crazy to say that I might be in love with you?”

He dropped her phone in the cupholder and peppered another kiss on her mouth. “No. That’s good.” His thumb traced her bottom lip, eyes glittering with adoration. “Cause I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you too.”

She pecked his thumb, giddy. “Fuck it. Let’s tell my dad right now. About UCLA and you.”

He smiled. “You sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Storming inside the house, the couple made a beeline to her dad’s office, his hand in hers. 

“Dad!”, she called out, door slamming open. Her startled father perked up in his seat, his wide eyes going from Julie to Luke right behind her. “I got into UCLA!”

Ray sprung up, cheering. “Mija-!”

“And I’m dating Luke!”, she yelled after. “And that’s okay, cause I got in, so you don’t have to worry about the rule anymore! So... ” She put her foot down, awkwardness creeping in her tone. “Yeah!”

Flabbergasted, dad faltered and let the cheers die in his throat. Luke came to stand next to her, squeezing her hand. Slowly, he nodded. “Ah… so that time in Eats & Beats-”

“A date,” she admitted. “And I’m sorry I went behind your back, papa, but I… really care about Luke. And we figured that if I got in, you’d stop enforcing the dating rule.”

His grap became even tighter. “I, uh, really care about her too,” Luke mustered. “Sorry that we kept it a secret.”

Ray sighed, propping his head in his hands and scrubbing the confusion away with his palms. The pair shot each other a look. He wasn’t mad, she deduced, so that was a good sign at least. Finally, dad moved again and gave her a tight hug. Her confidence grew, hugging him back and withholding a cry of victory. 

He pulled back, crossing his arms with a hint of amusement. “Well… the rule clearly didn’t work, but you seem happy and you- you did actually get in, right?”

She laughed, nodding, and showed the confirmation email. His smile grew. “Then I guess,” he trailed, “you’re allowed. To date. But no funny business!”

Julie quickly nodded, grabbing back onto Luke’s arm and jostling him in excitement. Luke bounced on his heels, trying to temper it but failing miserably. She thanked her dad, promised him they’d celebrate her acceptance later tonight and rushed back out with Luke. Dad yelled something about establishing new rules, but both gleefully ignored it. Once in her bedroom, he snatched her into a tight embrace, kissing her full on the lips. Julie whooped against his mouth and danced between his arms. This might be the best day of her life! Luke was her real real real boyfriend!

“You heard your dad, Jules,” he teased. “No funny business.”

She pouted, faux-peeved. “You won’t get to climb through my window again.”

“Won’t have to hide in cars anymore.”

“Won’t have to say you’re just my classmate.”

Luke dragged them onto her bed, laying side by side. “I can take you to junior prom.”

She kissed him with a giggle. “You’re taking me to prom?”

“Hell yeah, I am!”, he bellowed, drumming his fingers against her hips. “Let your dad take pictures of us and everything.”

She scrunched her nose. “Let’s maybe not push him just yet.”

“Yeah,” he exhaled, humming in agreement. “You’re probably right.”

Luke did that her to junior prom, to homecoming, to senior prom, called her hot in blue and gold and vetoed no when she begged him for a bright, blue velour couch for their first apartment. When someone asked her father what it was like, seeing his daughter find the one at sixteen, he had to admit with embarrassment red on his cheeks that it all flew under his radar.

That it all started with sneaky bleacher kisses and a hopeful heart. 

@blush-and-books @ourstarscollided @sophiphi @bluefirewrites​ @willexx​ @unsaid-emily​

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Lost Boys: Día de los Muertos

GIF not mine! 

Dwayne x Reader 

Word Count: 2,810

Summary: Now that Halloween is over, it’s time for Day of the Dead. Dwayne celebrates with the reader and their family. In honor of the brown, mostly likely Latinx, people of Santa Carla as shown in the opening title sequence. 

It was a cool California night, the air carrying just a hint of ocean salt.

You had split from the other boys earlier to enjoy some time alone together, something that could be hard to come by given how close the four of them were. Once the two of you had slipped away, Dwayne brought you to a section of the beach that had trees, an area where soil converted to, and mixed with, sand.

Gracefully scaling the tree, Dwayne bent down, extending his hands so you he could pull you up. He settled back against the tree trunk and seated you in his lap, facing him with his hands resting on your bottom.

At this point in the fall there weren’t many beach goers who came out after dark. The temperatures were too cold for the locals and the tourist season was winding down.

Dwayne and you were the type to not mind sitting together in comfortable silence. You were a little drowsy this late into the night so you snuggled into his chest and rested your eyes for a bit. You could feel Dwayne stroking your hair which turned your muscles to liquid. The moment was so peaceful, it was hard to tell whether twenty minutes or twenty hours had passed.

“Love you,” he murmured quietly.

Those three words had you suddenly wide awake and you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

“I love you, too.”

You couldn’t stop the big smile from lighting up your face. It’s not that you didn’t know that he loved you; after all, you two had been a long-term item. He showed it every day through his gentle touches and supportive actions. It’s just that he didn’t often convey it with words. When he did it made you extra giddy.

And on that particular night, it gave you the courage to bring up something you had been meaning to ask him. “Hey Dwayne?”

“Yeah?”

You scooted backwards so you could talk to him properly. “Do you want to do Día de los Muertos with me this year? I mean, don’t feel obligated. The whole family will be there, and it’s right after Halloween but—”

He silenced your rambling with a kiss. “Of course. Besides, I love your parent. Your brother on the other hand…”

You wrapped him in your arms and squeezed tight.

“Don’t worry,” you grinned. “I’ll protect you.”

Dwayne snorted. As an immortal creature of the night, he could handle himself just fine. In fact, you were the one the needed protecting more often than not seeing as how you were the fleshy, fragile human.

So he was more than capable of physically handling your brother. It’s just that your brother was really hard on anyone who dated any of his younger siblings and he had had his fair share of arguments with your boyfriend. In his eyes no one was good enough for any of you. But you doubted that he’d be stupid enough to start something during a holiday celebration lest he risk facing your mom’s wrath.

Dwayne planned to meet you and the family at the graveyard off of 2nd Street first to help with the duties there before continuing the festivities at the house.

Speaking of home, you must have fell asleep because the next thing you knew, Dwayne was silently creeping up the stairs to take you to your bedroom. He tucked you in and the last thing you remembered in your mostly unconscious state was him kissing you goodnight. Then he disappeared and you drifted off to sleep

 _______________

Dwayne rolled into the cemetery a little before nine o’clock, like you guys had agreed, looking a little more modest for the occasion. Well, modest for him. His dark hair was still loose and wild, his ivory earring present. Black Chuck Taylors covered his feet and his jeans were ripped at the knees. But he was wearing a clean white shirt and he had switched his normal jaguar jacket for a solid leather one.

“Mijo!” your mom cried when she saw him. She enveloped him in a tight hug and the size difference between the two of them was as comical as it always was. Parting with a couple hard pats against his back, she yelled at everyone to come say hello to your boyfriend.

Dwayne knew your dad and siblings and was introduced to the extended family as they lined up to greet him. Your mom acted as the middle person.

“This is my mother… these are my sisters and their families… my brother, his wife, and their kids… my uncle and his daughter, my cousin and his wife…”

Dwayne shook all of the hands and accepted their hugs like a champ. At this point in the relationship he was no longer awkward with all the hugging, but he was good at remembering names which had always impressed your family given how many of you there were.

Finally, you interjected on his behalf so you could have time with him. You shooed them way and they went back to their assigned jobs.

“Y/N,” your mom directed. “Show Dwayne what to do.”

“Guess that means you’re stuck with me,” you joked.

“Perfect,” he said draping his arm around your shoulders.

You took him to the two graves that you were in charge of. All the graves that belonged to your family were split up and assigned to the living members. Your mom’s side had been in Santa Carla for four generations, meaning there were plenty of graves to clean up.

Your dad was the first in his family to live in Satna Carla so there wasn’t any work to do for that side.

You had been given your great-grandparents on that Día de los Muertos, so that’s where you and Dwayne headed. Luckily, those graves were a little further apart from the others which gave you more privacy with him.

You explained to him every year your family descended upon the graveyard to pay respect and spruce up the family graves.

“Not that the groundskeepers don’t do a good job, but it’s tradition that we clean up their graves on Day of the Dead to show that we still care for them.

Dwayne took the rake to remove some of the dead foliage and you wiped down the headstones with a rag and bucket. The water turned a murky brown color when you rung the rag out, which wasn’t pleasant, but you were satisfied that the grime was coming out.

You finished by placing a bouquet in front of both graves, barely-there-wisps of smoke from small candles curling upwards into the night air.

“How come we’re not doing the alters here at the cemetery?” Dwayne asked.

You looked at him, surprised that he caught that.

“I’ve seen it done before, you know. Just never done it myself is all,” he said defensively.

“Careful. Your inner old man is peaking out,” you teased.

He suddenly tackled you to the ground, extremely careful not to injure you or disturb anything in the vicinity. You were very aware of the way his toned body pressed into yours. He raised one of his eyebrows. Definitely not an old man, you gulped.

“Um, the alter thing. We call them ofrendas. We stopped doing it out here a while back because people complained.”

He looked at you, asking you without words to elaborate.

“The fact that a bunch of Latinos were hanging out in a cemetery, after dark, to essentially throw a party rubbed other people in town the wrong way.”

You rolled your head to the side to glance at the other tombstones from your position under Dwayne. “Now we just come here to clean up.  The fun stuff still happens though, we just do it at the house instead.”

“Bigots,” he grumbled. “I can take care of anyone who complains, you know? It’ll be a win-win for you and for me.”

He sat up and pulled you with so that you were upright too. You laughed at his proposal knowing that his proposal was entirely serious. Dwayne was such a protective boy.

“Thanks, amor, but that would require killing more people than you think. I promise we’re doing just fine this way.”

He huffed but let it go. You both looked at the graves you had finished with, satisfied that you had done a good job. The ancestors should be pleased.

“Come on,” you prompted, “Let’s go see if anyone else needs help.”

The efforts of the gathered small army, aka the family, meant that the work was finished quickly and it was soon time to take the party elsewhere. You told your parents that you were riding with Dwayne, which your brother overheard and didn’t like.

Dwayne gave him his most intimidating stare and you prepared to go on the defensive, but he didn’t get in one whole sentence before your mom there, slapping the back of his head. “Ay mijo,” she chastised.

She gave you a quick blessing and sent you on your way. You stuck your tongue out at your brother for good measure then climbed onto Dwayne’s bike. He patted your thigh twice in quick succession before squealing off a little louder than normal and you knew exactly who that was for.

Dwayne was an excellent driver and you were perfectly safe with him, however, that didn’t mean he drove slowly. He easily beat back everyone else in your family. You decided to start getting thing ready, knowing that you would be judged for sitting around when there was stuff to be do.

The pan was already done, having been baked earlier that day so you only had to arrange them on a platter. Dwayne helped fill coolers with ice and then added beer and pop. That’s all that there was time to do before the others started trickling in, which you took as your cue to hand the reigns over to the more qualified adults.

Excited to show Dwayne the ofrenda set-up in the living room, you noticed that he wasn’t in the kitchen where you left him. After a short search, you found him in the backyard sipping beer with your dad and some of the tíos.

You tried your best to sneak up on him, tickling him on his sides. You pouted when he wasn’t even phased and merely placed his hands on top of yours. His vampire scenes tended to see your surprises coming from a mile away, but still you never gave up trying.

“Come on, let’s go look at the ofrenda.”

Slipping back inside the house, one of your tías immediately pushed food into Dwayne’s hands as he passed by. He accepted it with the same politeness that had won your parents over when you first started dating. He took a small bite while you led him to the living room and hummed in delight.

“This is good.”

The ofrenda was impossible to miss once you entered the room. A large table covered in a yellow table cloth was set up against a wall, a large assortment of marigold blooms, candles, food, and other decorations spread out all around. In the middle, wooden racks where stacked up on one another and contained framed photographs of deceased family members.

Directly behind the table hung colorful paper cutouts, or papel picados, on cords which were tapped on the wall. Near by wall shelves were also filled with candles and some painted skulls.

“I see beer,” Dwayne said, pointing to the unopened glass bottles that were present in the display.

“You would point out that part.”

Bringing him closer to the ofrenda, you explained what was what. “The beer and the food are for the dead to enjoy since their spirits are here with us tonight.”

Dwayne nodded, intrigued. “This kind of marigold is called cempasúchil. It’s a traditional flower we use for Día de Muertos because it’s bright and will attract spirits. The candles and skulls are also common.”

One of the skulls in particular caught his attention and he carefully picked it up and turned it over in his hand. He smiled. “You painted this one.”

Your face felt like it was burning. That was your skull.

“I can tell,” he continued. “The yellow polka dots and purple flowers gave you away.”

Those were indeed your go-to designs and colors when drawing. And even though his keen observation skills shouldn’t surprise you anymore, you were still amazed at how he picked yours out without hesitation.

Clearing your throat to get yourself back on track, you point to a grainy black and white photo. “These are my maternal great-grandparents sitting with some of their kids. They’re the ones whose grave we did.”

“Actually, I think I knew them.”

Your mouth dropped. It was only after a minute that his lip started to twitch and you figured out he was playing with you. His ability to hold a straight face was maddening at times.

“Just because I’m old, doesn’t mean I know everyone from here,” he reminded you.

“Point taken. But you really did meet my grandpa back in the day.”

When Dwayne had first been invited to family dinner back when you had first started dating, it was hard for him not to look at all of the family pictures hanging on the walls. Later on, when you were outside hugging him good-bye he dropped that bomb on you.

He had noticed a picture of your grandpa and recognized him because he had worked on Dwayne’s motorcycle twice during the 1920s. You were incredulous. Your grandpa had recently died so it was surreal to hear that your boyfriend had not only met him, but met him before you were born.

Dwayne doubted your grandpa would have identified him had he still been alive since their interaction had been so brief.

Dwayne only remembered him because he was one of the few mechanics that took appointments after dark and he was pretty accepting, something that hadn’t always been true for the tan vampire at all points in the past.

Certain periods were worse than others, so when he did open up and speak about his memories you tried to be empathetic.

“I’m glad he was good to you,” you said in the present. You squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.

You went through the other relatives, introducing them to Dwayne photo by photo, sharing stories about them that had been shared with your over the years. He held you in his arms, content to listen to everything you were telling him.

Eventually you wandered to the couch to sit down. Everything was so lively and joyful.

Other conversations carried on around you as your family laughed and reminisced. An aging radio that sat in the kitchen played tunes in Spanish, unseen but heard. The younger kids would periodically run by, shouting and chasing each other.

Time passed quickly as it tended to do during parties and soon enough Dwayne was trying to leave as the festivities wound down. Trying being the operative word. He had been held up at the front door for nearly fifteen minutes while still there everyone said their good-byes.

“Here you go, Dwayne.” Your mom shoved a bag into his arms that was filled with several containers of tamales, rice, and sweets. “Give some to your friends, too. Boys need a lot of food and you all looked skinny when I saw them last time.”

He face betrayed nothing but there was a shine in his eyes that let you know he found the familiar ‘food’ spiel entertaining.

“Alright, I’m walking him to his bike,” you said with finality. You slammed the door shut, cutting off the voices behind you. “Sorry about them.”

“I’ve told you many times that I like them. Don’t be embarrassed. They remind me of… my family.”

He didn’t have to specify which family he meant. You could tell that he was referring to his human one. As rare as talking about past memories was, talking about memories of his family was even more rare.

“So, don’t apologize for them. Please.”

He opened his arms and you walked into them. He placed his hand on the back of your head and, trying to be sneaky about it, you put your hand into one his jacket pockets. You weren’t sure if he honestly didn’t feel it, or if he was letting you have your moment, but he didn’t stop you.

When he arrived back at the cave after leaving you with sweet parting kisses, he remained seated on his bike and pulled out your gift. A small black skull and some marigold blooms. He unfolded the note and read it to himself.

For the ones you’ve lost.

He turned the skull painted with red and yellow designs over in his hands and smiled.

_______________

Thanks for checking this out. I hope it was a good read! I also realized I may have outed myself by calling it pop instead of soda, but oh well.

[usnewsaggregator-blog]

‘The Voice’ Is Great TV. It’s Just Not Always Great For The Winners.

New Post has been published on https://usnewsaggregator.com/arts-culture/the-voice-is-great-tv-its-just-not-always-great-for-the-winners/

‘The Voice’ Is Great TV. It’s Just Not Always Great For The Winners.

Currently in its 13th season, NBC’s “The Voice” seems to have officially cracked the secret reality-TV code and struck gold.

Fresh off a third consecutive Emmy win for outstanding reality-competition program, the show has proved that, six years into its run, it’s still capable of reeling in viewers. Recent ratings rival its debut season; this week, nearly 10 million people in the demographic of viewers ages 18-49 tuned in to watch the Top 8 perform, on par with numbers from season one.

“Whatever the DNA is that’s making it successful, it just hasn’t changed,” the show’s host and executive producer, Carson Daly, told HuffPost. “It still feels like important, special, fresh, eventized, feel-good TV. All those early themes we wanted to roll out into the marketplace have stood as the pillar of what makes the show successful.” 

Those early themes Daly’s talking about center on one primary ideal: giving someone who’s been attempting to break into the music industry the opportunity of a lifetime. Singers of all shapes, sizes, ages, backgrounds, races and gender identities are provided the chance to perform in a blind audition on “The Voice,” during which four superstar coaches (not judges) sit with their backs to the stage, hoping to hear the next Whitney Houston, Justin Timberlake or Taylor Swift. From there, the contestants sing to an audience of at-home viewers eager to vote them into potential stardom. A $100,000 cash prize and a record deal with Republic Records, a subsidiary of Universal Music Group, or, in some cases, with pop and country label Big Machine is on the line. 

“Where else can you come on a show and sing and not be judged on anything but your talent, your voice?” the show’s executive producer Audrey Morrissey told HuffPost. “You’re in one-on-one tutoring with these people who are doing nothing but trying to shine a light on you and give you the fruits of all their experience in a very concentrated time to help you: to help you win the show, to help you win your career, to help you become a better artist. It’s literally priceless. Money can’t buy that.”

Of course, the coaches on “The Voice,” the ones who sit in those massive red chairs that dramatically swivel around at the push of a button, have other motives beyond a desire to “shine a light” on fresh talent.

“They’re making a lot of money, too, so don’t forget about that,” Daly joked.

According to The Wrap, Blake Shelton and Adam Levine each make about $13 million a season. And the show not only gives unknown artists a platform but allows its star coaches one, as well. On primetime TV, they can expand their careers by flaunting family-friendly personalities and premiering new music. Before “The Voice,” for example, longtime coach Shelton had hit after hit on the country music charts with No. 1 songs like “Austin,” “Some Beach” and “All About Tonight.” But since his first stint on the show in 2011, his albums have gained mainstream appeal, with “Red River Blue” and “Bringing Back the Sunshine” both landing at No. 1 on the Billboard 200, at points surpassing the likes of Adele’s “21.”

With all of its addictive goodness, you’d think the artists emerging from “The Voice” would also gain some momentum in the music business. However, the popularity of the show and its celebrity mentors doesn’t necessarily trickle down to the artists the network highlights for months on end. In truth, the show’s 12 winners have produced only five original Top 40 songs and earned one Grammy nomination from 2011 to now. And most of the winners’ singles that ranked on the Hot 100 were either “Voice” performances or original victory songs. Cassadee Pope and Danielle Bradbery are the only artists whose post-“Voice” singles have charted on the list.

Unlike the coaches whose fame continues to flourish, it seems many “Voice” winners fare worse in the great expanses of the fair-weather music industry. The days of Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood ― who, after being crowned the champions of “American Idol” in 2002 and 2005, respectively, went on to earn a combined 10 Grammy Awards ― are gone. Today, “The Voice” might do everything in its power to make sure the viewers who vote are captivated by the show’s talent in-season. But once those artists are thrust into the music world, why do we rarely hear about them post-show?

We do hear about some winners, like Jordan Smith, whose success was personally fostered by executive “Voice” producer Mark Burnett and his wife, Roma Downey. After flawlessly singing Sia’s “Chandelier” to an incredulous row of coaches on the show, he went on to nab three Top 40 hits and three No. 1s on the Hot Christian Songs chart. His first album, “Something Beautiful,” was a critical and commercial success story as it debuted at No. 2 on the Billboard chart in March 2016, right behind “Voice” coach Gwen Stefani’s “This Is What the Truth Feels Like.” Smith sold 54,000 units in the album’s first week, making him the highest-ranking winner of any singing competition series in the last six years. Nine months later, his holiday album, “’Tis the Season,” peaked at No. 11. He has been touring nationwide ever since.

And then there’s Cassadee Pope, who signed to Big Machine after her win. (A source close to the company confirmed to HuffPost that Pope and the label decided to “mutually” part ways this year.) Now in the country domain, the former pop-punk singer has drawn comparisons to alternative vocalists like Avril Lavigne with her radio-primed voice. The season three champ has produced four Top 40 hits, two of those ― “Over You” and “Stupid Boy” ― being “Voice” performances. Her 2013 hit “Wasting All These Tears” landed at No. 37 and has been played more than 19 million times on Spotify. Her debut solo country record, “Frame by Frame,” also scored a No. 9 placement on the Billboard 200 and sold 43,000 copies in its first week. Just this year, Pope was nominated for a Grammy for best country duo/group performance for her song with Chris Young, “Think of You.”

When asked who he thinks truly embodies a “Voice” success story, Daly cited the 28-year-old Florida native. “Cassadee was like a rocker chick in an all-boy band [Hey Monday], almost like Gwen in No Doubt, and she went on Team Blake and now I’ve seen her on red carpets and in Nashville,” he said.

Another notable mention is season four winner Danielle Bradbery, who, although not a mainstream darling, has achieved success in the country music realm. The Houston native was 16 when she won the show and went on to release her self-titled debut album just five months later. Like Pope, Bradbery signed to Big Machine. “We knew she had a chance, and we definitely wanted her if she was going to win,” a Big Machine representative told HuffPost. “That was at the height, when media was just like, ‘The Voice, The Voice, The Voice!’”

“They knew exactly what we needed to do as soon as I was off ‘The Voice,’ and so they flew me to Nashville and got an album cooking,” Bradbery told HuffPost of her experience with her management team. “Everything was really fast, but I knew they knew what they were doing… they had a plan. They got me on the ‘Today’ show right away, and are just big fans of getting the names and faces out there as much as possible and as fast as possible.”

Bradbery’s 2013 single “The Heart of Dixie” peaked at No. 58 on the Hot 100 and performed decently on the Country chart. She toured with Brad Paisley and went on to produce an anthem for the promotional campaign of the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi with “My Day.” Bradbery pushed forward with the release of her sophomore album, “I Don’t Believe We’ve Met,” on Dec. 1, and it’s currently No. 41 on the Billboard 200. Her lead single “Sway,” which features more pop-inspired undertones, was released in June and peaked at No. 19 on the Country Digital Songs Sales chart.

“If I’m being honest, I didn’t know much about the whole other side of the music industry that you have to create for yourself and your teams… management, label, booking agents, everything along those lines,” she said. “It was definitely a learning experience every step of the way.”

As it still is for season 12 winner Chris Blue. Instead of rushing forward with his debut album, the R&B singer from Knoxville, Tennessee, is working diligently with his former coach and now manager, Alicia Keys. “I watch Alicia and how she works, and she goes nonstop,” Blue told HuffPost. “After the show and putting in long hours every day, I realized, ‘Hey, this has to continue. This is now my lifestyle. You have to work hard in this business.’”

Daly and Morrissey agree. They say “The Voice” is more of a boot camp than a superstar generator, so if people want to make it in the cutthroat entertainment industry, they’re expected to put their blood, sweat and tears into their own development. Winning, they insist, is hard work.

In fact, the producers never wanted to mimic “Idol,” even if it “blazed a path” for them in the TV landscape, Daly said. “We didn’t really create the show to create a celebrity musician or make people rich and famous. That was never really the goal of the show. We are proud to say that so many of the artists who have been on ‘The Voice’ in any capacity have quit their sandwich-making jobs and are doing well in music. And at the end of the day that’s winning, to us.”

But not every artist who’s deemed “The Voice” triumphs. For every Christian singer like Smith or country fave like Pope and Bradbery, you have a handful of “winners” who enjoy less of the sensation of a post-“Voice” career.

Take, for example, season one runner-up Dia Frampton, who found some success in the early aughts alongside her sister in the indie-rock band Meg & Dia. During her time on “The Voice,” she said, the show, like many other reality programs, attempted to shape and mold its contestants’ stories to attract viewers, not necessarily lifelong fans.

“I was introduced as the children’s book author, which was something I very lightly touched upon when we were doing interviews — that I liked writing children’s books, I liked blogging and writing stories. But that was definitely not the highlight in my own mind,” Frampton explained. “I felt like I said, ‘I love yoga,’ and then it became the highlight, even though that’s just a fun thing I do on Saturday mornings. That was interesting, to kind of have that narrative chosen for me.”

Frampton didn’t see herself as a children’s book author. Nor did she think she’d make it that far on the show. Her “sole intention” behind appearing on “The Voice” was to slip in Meg & Dia stories in hopes of getting the duo back on their feet after they spent all their savings on their 2011 album, “Cocoon.”

“In the moment, we had been dropped from our label, we didn’t have a publicist, we didn’t have money, and I thought, ‘This is our publicity, possibly,’” she said. “But the band was never mentioned. I mean, I mentioned it, but it was never put on the show.” After Frampton finished second, she was picked up by Universal Republic to kick off a solo career. All the while, her sister Meg was left wondering what could’ve been.

“Honestly, there was aftermath to that decision for years,” Dia said. “I think that last year was the first year I felt normal again with my sister, and that’s been a lot of work on our part… I still feel like I abandoned her in a way, and I struggle to deal with that in trying to be successful. I feel like sometimes I wish to not be successful so that I don’t do well and don’t abandon her again.”

Following her season’s wrap, Dia and her new team whipped together an album in a few months, which she said was pushed on her by the label. ”I felt like the record was rushed to be put out,” she said of 2011’s “Red.” “I was so excited to work with so many different producers that I think I should’ve focused on working with one person who I really loved because the album kind of ended up being a crazy plethora of songs in all different genres.”

Despite that, she insists her time on “The Voice” was a learning experience that led her to open for her coach Shelton and go on tour with James Blunt in China. According to Dia, she thought she’d found her stride when “Red” went double-platinum in parts of Southeast Asia, but shortly after a year of celebrity, she was back to the life of a struggling artist. Now she can’t even go out on tour because she fails to sell enough tickets or make enough money to promote her new album, “Bruises.” She’s currently working at a health food store, making minimum wage, while writing songs for other artists.

“I look back at my time, not so much on ‘The Voice’ but post-‘Voice,’ because I felt like that was such a spike in my career and life… It felt like I was doing everything right and I was going to be OK and I was bearing on what I think was success, and then everything just kind of falls down,” she said, getting emotional. “That’s one thing you have to be prepared for as an artist. You have your ups and you have your downs, and your ups feel so amazing and your downs feel so difficult. And I feel like I am in a bit of a down right now. I feel like I’ve been throwing spaghetti at the wall for so long trying to make something hit, just kind of helping other artists get their voice out when I feel like mine is kind of going deeper and deeper into a hole.”

There’s no sure way to determine why some artists soar after “The Voice” while others fall flat, but it appears a lot has to do with who’s in a contestant’s corner after they graduate from the show. For example, if talent isn’t thoroughly supported by Universal Music Group after a season ends, albums can go unproduced, unpromoted and unsold. Morrissey explained that, at its discretion, the pop-focused Republic Records chooses how many people it wants to pick up once the finale airs. Sometimes it partners with other labels, like Big Machine, if it thinks it’s not the best fit for a specific artist. 

“Pretty much all the winners are picked up,” Morrissey said. “There is choice amongst the label what they do with them, but we, as a television show, once they won, we’re not necessarily personally involved in their careers. We do everything in our power to prop them up, as we can, but that’s when it flips over to, really, the music business.”

“When the baton is passed post-‘Voice,’ there’s some problems,” Levine told Howard Stern in 2015, suggesting that the label “fucks it up” because “no one knows what they’re doing.” He continued, “People take over after we do this great job of building these people up on the show. There’s some real issues there.”

Season eight winner Sawyer Fredericks had an inconvenient experience shortly after being crowned “The Voice” in 2015. The now 18-year-old said he dropped Republic after his first album, “The Good Storm,” was released, over disagreements about his songwriting process. “It was kind of a mutual decision,” Fredericks told HuffPost, explaining that the label had him co-writing the record even though he wanted to pen his own lyrics. “I think it definitely changed my intent for a lot of songs.”

For his sophomore album, “Hide Your Ghost,” the now independent singer-songwriter ― who lives on a farm with his family in upstate New York ― wants to take back control of his sound.

“I wanted the freedom as full producer. Basically, whatever I say happens with the album, and I have the final word for everything… really conveying what I mean in my original work,” he explained.

Fredericks is not the only “Voice” winner to go independent. After the label didn’t fully support his album “Come Through for You,” season one’s Javier Colon voluntarily moved on from Republic. Despite having catchy, potential hits like “Stand Up” (featuring Levine and co-written by Pharrell WIlliams), Colon’s music never got its due.

“I went in with high hopes, as I believe everyone did,” Colon told Buddy TV in 2012. “But when you pour your heart and soul into a new album that you think is really great, and your label who is supposed to support, market and promote your music does neither, it’s really hard not to be upset.”

Season 11’s Alisan Porter decided to part ways with Republic, too. The former child star (“Curly Sue,” “Parenthood”), now 36, initially took to Twitter to share the news that she was going independent.

Not everything worked out perfectly with my “record deal” so I went back to the drawing board. My EP is written and I begin production Fri.

— Alisan Porter (@alisanporter) March 27, 2017

“It just wasn’t the right fit for me,” she told People earlier this year. “I have a really clear vision of who I am, and it might not be the most cookie-cutter commercial radio [vision]… I would much rather be true to myself than to do something that didn’t feel right for me.”

Same goes for season five winner Tessanne Chin. Her debut album with Republic, “Count on My Love,” sold only 7,000 copies in its first week due to what she deems a lack of promotion. Now the 32-year-old Jamaican reggae-R&B singer is signed to the Justice League Music Group. She’s been performing frequently enough, but hasn’t seen the kind of success Pope and Bradbery have.

See also: winners Jermaine Paul, Josh Kaufman, Craig Wayne Boyd and Sundance Head, who have yet to release albums with Republic Records, and perhaps never will.

So, what gives? As more and more singing competition “winners” become “losers,” who’s at fault? And is there anything that can revive the once-sensational reality show dream?

“You can’t blame a record company or management because, I think, in today’s day and age, you can ‘succeed’ and really take off without it because of the tools that are available to you independently,” Daly said. “A hit song is a hit song is a hit song, and I don’t care who sings it. You can ask Charlie Puth or Meghan Trainor; Fall Out Boy did this back in the day without any help from radio. If you have a hit song, it’s going to happen for you. It’s just a matter of time.”

According to a Big Machine rep, it’s sometimes difficult to market “Voice” talent after the show, in part due to their network association. Because “The Voice” is on NBC, other companies, like CBS or ABC, won’t feature the show’s artists. “The networks are so competitive with one another that you need not only a label behind you, [but] you need to make sure the network is behind you and going to support you beyond you just being on their show,” the rep said. “If you’re stuck to only being able to do the ‘Today’ show or ‘Access Hollywood’ or another NBC platform, it’s limiting.”

Morrissey says, record deal or not, “The Voice” tries to highlight former contestants whenever it can. Just this week, Alisan Porter was able to promote her��Las Vegas show, “The Voice: Neon Dreams,” which is set to give artists, including Chris Mann (season two), Mary Sarah (season 10), Matthew Schuler (season five) and Matt McAndrew (season seven), a new platform, boosting their profiles once more. “The Voice” also recently highlighted past contestants’ journeys on the web-exclusive series “After The Voice.”

“We do try to keep tabs on them. We do invite them back and have them perform on the show when they’re ready and they have music. To the best of our ability we push all of their work on all our socials. We try to do what we can,” Morrissey said. “It is what it is. We try our best.”

Fredericks, for one, confirmed that “The Voice” producers have kept tabs on him and his career. “I don’t think it’s completely like I’m on my own. They’ve helped out quite a bit, and they’ve offered me to do stuff with the show,” he said. “It’s really fun to go back; it’s like a whole family. And it’s still going! This show, like everything, is just go, go, go.”

The coaches are also a big part of the equation. Bradbery’s former mentor, Shelton, who she called “very genuine,” pays attention to the music she’s releasing. He congratulated her on a recent single, which Bradbery said he does as often as he can. “He definitely keeps everybody that’s been on his team under his wing, which I think is really amazing about him. What you see on TV of Blake is exactly what you’ll get. He’s not fake.”

The same could be said about most of the coaches who attempt to stay in contact with their contestants after “The Voice,” Morrissey said. Levine has signed former artists to his record label, 222, while Keys continues to work and write with Blue.

“Coaches go to a lot of lengths to help people keep growing far more than the public sees. We just don’t really have enough time or way on our show to illustrate that,” Morrissey said. “I’m just thinking about Christina [Aguilera] and Alisan Porter ― they’re still very close and work together. Miley [Cyrus], famously, my God, she keeps in touch with everybody, is texting constantly.”

“It’s more than just a season to them or show or just a moment in time, but they really take on the artists as their own and really care about these individuals,” Blue told HuffPost.

However, it’s not just the winning artists who take their shot in the ruthless world of music post-“Voice.” Throughout every season of the show, hundreds of contestants rotate in and out of the spotlight. Another famous reality show contestant is proof you don’t have to win to win: Jennifer Hudson. She is currently a coach on “The Voice,��� but she placed seventh in the 2004 season of “American Idol.” She’s since won a Grammy for her album “Jennifer Hudson,” and Oscar, Golden Globe, British Academy Film and Screen Actors Guild awards for her role as Effie White in 2006’s “Dreamgirls.” Perhaps, with her experience, she can help guide her three eliminated live-show contestants, Davon Fleming, Shi’Ann Jones and Noah Mac, to mainstream success without a crown.

“When she’s looking at them and saying, ‘I’ve been you. I’ve been right where you are. I know how to do this. I know how you’re feeling. I can help you navigate the waters once we’re successful.’ I mean, how do you not take somebody up on that offer? That’s valuable,” Daly said. “And having Kelly [Clarkson] on next season, too, will be the same thing.”

In Clarkson’s mind, making your way to the top of the music charts after appearing on a singing competition show has a lot to do with perseverance. But, of course, luck plays a role, too.

“The question is always, ‘Why does this one make it and why didn’t this one?’ And it’s hard to tell you that because I think if we knew the answer we’d bottle it up and sell it so everybody could make it,” Clarkson told HuffPost. “Jennifer Hudson and I had this talk when I worked with her recently. We were both like, ‘You know, it’s really not even winning.’ Like she’s the best example of that. It’s taking that opportunity, making something of it and being OK with the fact that it might not be exactly what you thought it was going to be.”

We’ve seen that sort of attitude with “Voice” contestants like RaeLynn, who, at 23, is now one of the most sought-after songwriters in Nashville after being eliminated in the quarterfinals of season two. Her debut album, “Wildhorse,” hit No. 1 on Billboard’s Country Albums Chart and landed within the Top 10 on the All-Genre Album Sales Chart in 2017. This success, though, came after she left Big Machine and joined forces with Warner Music Nashville, which helped her sink into who she wanted to be as an artist. Under its guidance, she wrote “Love Triangle,” which garnered her a whole lot of attention for its raw and honest lyrics about being a child of divorce.

“Within a week, I had so many other writers who wanted to write with me because of that song,” RaeLynn told Billboard. “It goes to show a great song is what can change a lot for you, and that’s what that song did for me.”

RaeLynn credited Nashville as a pivotal environment. This might explain why a select few winners have flourished when they focused on Music City.  

“Everybody knows everybody, and when they find out there’s a new artist that’s great, everybody is going to support them,” she said. “They don’t just support artists who’ve already made it. They want to support new artists, and I think that’s so special.”

And it seems country music listeners want to support emerging artists, as well. A source close to “The Voice” told HuffPost that voting during the show typically takes off in local markets when there’s a particularly moving performance. For example, when Sundance Head advanced in the competition, “The Voice” saw a huge spike in voters from Texas.

“A lot of people who haven’t won the show [and are successful] are just people from Team Blake… He’s from that world and they take care of their own, no doubt about it,” Daly said, mentioning acts like RaeLynn, the Swon Brothers and Gwen Sebastian, who toured with Shelton and wrote three songs on Miranda Lambert’s latest critically acclaimed album, “The Weight of These Wings.”

Ultimately, Clarkson believes no singing competition winner should ever feel like they’re automatically going to be a superstar with a dozen No. 1s. “That’s a level of entitlement that’s going to end up not really working out well,” she advised.

“TV is so powerful, right? Use that platform and use that stage to really showcase what you have, and then use that opportunity to meet as many people as you can meet. That’s all we can really do because there’s no rhyme or reason to why some of us make it and some of us don’t. We all work hard. But some of it is the aligning of the stars.”

Even with the ups and downs, most if not all of the contestants HuffPost spoke to had nothing but fond memories from their time on “The Voice,” and credited the show for giving them a place to shine.

“I loved it as a learning experience, and I’m happy I did it,” Fredericks said. Bradbery and Blue expressed similar sentiments. “If it wasn’t for ‘The Voice,’ I’d be home doing regular stuff, so it was probably the biggest high moment of my whole entire life,” Bradbery said. “It’s been amazing.”

“‘The Voice’ is a really great concept,” Frampton said. “At first, I honestly thought, ‘OK, this has to be rigged. Somebody has to tell the coaches to turn around for certain people.’ But going through the show and seeing the process, I truly believe that it is very genuine.”

Despite the inconsistent track record, the hope for post-show success persists. “The Voice” is expected to continue running two cycles a year until ratings dip (which likely won’t happen anytime soon). Daly said that because there’s so much content out there, in order to stay relevant you have to be on top of your game. “There’s very little appointment viewing,” he said. “If you go away too long, you run the risk of just like falling into oblivion. There’s a successful Mark Burnett competition reality program [‘Survivor’] that’s been on twice a year on CBS for 35 seasons, and it works!”

Daly and Morrissey also know their show is entertaining a robust audience and fills that feel-good void on TV. Because when it comes down to it, the winners of “The Voice” are the network, the coaches and, undoubtedly, the devoted fans who get to see a produced version of the American Dream play out before them. They might not be tuning in to vote for album sales or chart appearances, but they’re glued to their seats in anticipation of each season’s climax.

Win or lose, prevailing after “The Voice,” like any other talent show, is the luck of the draw. But who knows? With a younger, more pop-rock-inspired crop of season 13 finalists (including Brooke Simpson, 26, Chloe Kohanski, 23, and Addison Agen, 16), the future winner could fare better. There’s still a country singer in the mix, though, ahead of next week’s finale, 40-year-old Red Marlow. Will a Tennessee crooner reign supreme once again? If we had to guess, we’d say yes.

UPDATE: (Dec. 20) ― Rock-pop singer Chloe Kohanski was crowned Season 13′s “The Voice.” With that, her coach, Blake Shelton, secured his sixth win.   

Additional reporting by Lauren Moraski. 

CORRECTION: A previous version of this story misstated the title of Stefani’s album. It is “This Is What the Truth Feels Like” not “What the Truth Feels Like.”

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