#Auto Dealership Lighting

[netzeroenergy]

The Importance of Car Dealership Lighting for Sales Success

Learn how effective lighting design can improve customer experience, highlight inventory, and increase sales in your car dealership lighting.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Thunder In Our Hearts: You're Losing Me

Summary: A few short weeks before their first holiday together, the reader finds Ben slipping into his old ways...

Masterlist

Pairing: Soldier Boy x reader

Word Count: 2,600ish

Warnings: language, angst, fluff

A/N: This takes place within Part 9 of Thunder In Our Hearts. Enjoy! 😉

_______

You hummed as you stirred the ingredients in the Dutch oven on the cold December day. Things with Ben had been good lately. It’d been about four months since you’d both stopped hunting down people, trying to hide him from the CIA. You simply…were.

For Ben, that meant a whole lot of learning still. He’d been out of the box for a little over six months now and had picked up a few things. He even had his own SUV now for getting around. He understood how to use the TV and get to streaming apps along with some basic use of the internet and a smart phone.

And he prided himself on how well he could cook a full breakfast for you both. You’d even got a smirk out of him when you called him your own Betty Crocker.

But there was still a lot to learn and it wore on him some days. Unfortunately, it seemed like today was going to be one of them.

���Jesus Christ,” groaned Ben, stepping into the house, shrugging out of his winter jacket. He kicked off his boots and left them in the middle of the floor, all while shaking his head. “Your generation is full of fucking pussies, baby. No wonder this country has gone to shit.”

You tore your eyes away from the soup on the stove, annoyance prickling your skin. Yeah, it was definitely one of those days. 

“The fucking child working the counter at the auto store didn’t know two shits about the oil I was looking for. Literally the twats only fucking job,” he grumbled, walking into the kitchen and washing up his hands. You tried to let it go. He was allowed to get irritated as much as you were. 

You set the spoon on the rest next to the stove and put the lid back on top, the stew having a few hours to go still.

“And then at the dealership where I had to go to get the stupid shit, there was, I swear to God, some kid that had to be thirty fucking years old was buying a car with his dad. These little shits don’t know to wipe their own asses.”

You rolled your eyes behind his back and left the kitchen, Ben inhaling sharply, lifting the lid up. He licked his lips and set it back down, either ignoring or not picking up on your own growing annoyance. You sat down on the end of the couch, Ben leaning over the back, strong hands on your shoulders.

“And why the hell is everyone obsessed with these fucking frilly decorations for Chirstmas? It’s fucking stupid. If people want shit they should buy it. End of discussion. Lame ass holiday anyway.” 

He squeezed your shoulders gently, leaning down so his lips brushed against your ear. 

“You’re tense, baby. Let me help you relax.” Strong hands slid down over your shoulders, headed straight for your chest and you’d had enough. You faced him with a glare, Ben narrowing his eyes. “What’d I do?”

“You’re being an ass today. You’re acting like asshole Ben, the one I didn’t like, remember?” He scoffed, crossing his arms. “All you have done today is complain about other people, leave the house a mess, hell you even got something against Christmas. It’s fucking Christmas, Ben! No one in the world, even the most redneck backwoods hillbilly, has anything against a strand of fucking white lights. Frilly? Oh come on.”

“First off, they are fucking frilly,” he spat back as you headed for the foyer. “What’s wrong with not liking a stupid ass holiday?”

“Nothing! Hate Christmas for all I care! Plenty of people do. But don’t put it down because of lights or trees or presents. Hate it because your family sucks or whatever. Not because it’s not manly enough for you.”

“Oh fuck you,” he said, getting in your face, leering down at you with a certain visceral that reminded you of your first argument. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Don’t hate everything that’s not part of your toxic masculinity!” His eye twitched and you looked away, past him out the patio door. “For three weeks you’ve been acting more and more like an asshole. I know this is hard for you. I know learning is hard and learning to be accepting and even tolerant doesn’t happen overnight. But Benjamin, I told you once before. I will not live with a man that I’m afraid of. Do not become someone I am afraid of.”

“You have no idea how hard this is!” he shouted, so loud your body shook. You forced yourself to meet his angry gaze, fighting back wetness in your own. “I do everything for you! Every goddamn day I try for you! I’m sorry your worthless piece of shit boyfriend isn’t doing it fast enough for you!”

“I never called you that,” you said quietly, throat thick from fighting back the tears from falling. “Never. All I have ever asked of you is to try and you Ben, these past few weeks you aren’t trying. I am not giving up on you. All I’m asking is you to not give up on yourself. You’re worth it. But you have to want it too.”

“What I want is you to stop hounding me over every little thing every motherfucking day!” he shouted. You tore your gaze away and swallowed before heading for the door. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“For a drive,” you said, putting your boots on, taking your coat off the hook. “For the record, all I wanted to do today was make you homemade beef stew because you haven’t had it since you were a kid. Maybe, just maybe, decorate for Christmas because we both had shitty childhoods and maybe we could have made our own good traditions. But if you don’t want that, Ben, I won’t force that on you. I’m done. I’ll always love you but I don’t deserve to be screamed at for helping you, for still holding up my end of the deal.”

You ripped open the door and threw up your hood without looking back. 

It was close to eleven when you got home. You were tired and your stomach felt off from your makeshift dinner of a greasy burger and fries. Least of all did you want another fight with Ben tonight. You just didn’t have the energy for it.

You sighed as you pushed open the door, catching sight of him out of the corner of your eye. Great. But you cut off your own thoughts as your eyes took in the room, darting through the family room and over to the kitchen and dining room. 

Hundreds of small lights filled the house. Draped on the wall. Wrapped around the decorated tree in the corner. Over the mantle where two stockings hung.

You knew you were standing there with your mouth open, letting the cold air inside behind you. Ben walked around the couch and shut the door, all while staring at you. He flickered his own gaze down and you caught his shirt wasn’t his usual thermals or t-shirts.

He had on a fucking Grinch sweater. A fucking Grinch sweater.

Your eyes flirted back to his, worried green ones meeting them. His lips parted, words caught in his throat. He swallowed, taking both your hands in his.

“You deserve a better life than this.” He lowered his head. “Than me. But you won’t leave me alone unless I make you go which is what I’ve been doing. I don’t want you to have to teach me everything. You’re wasting away your life on me. I’m not good. No matter what I do, I’ll never be good. I’m always the villian. I want better for you than me.”

You stared at the Grinch on his sweater, at the comically large yellow eyes, the curl of green on top of his head. 

“Y/N. Say something. Do something.” You lifted your gaze, his head turned cautiously up, waiting for a response. You stepped closer to him, Ben ripping his gaze away, like you’d burn him.

“Don’t you ignore me.” His head turned back, dropping your hands when you pulled them away. “Why did you do all this if you want me to go?”

“I never said I wanted you to go,” he whispered, cracking a sad smile. “I told you. I want you to want someone better than me.”

“Why did you do all of this?” you asked again, Ben closing his eyes, bottom lip trembling for a split second.

“Because…” he said, scrunching up his face, forcing himself to look you in the eye. “Because you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Because you deserve better but I’m the bad guy and I can’t survive without you. Because you’re my girl. Because I like these fucking frilly lights even though I’m the Grinch. That guy was an asshole too until someone gave him a chance. Give me one more chance. Let me be selfish. Don’t let me lose you.”

“I…” you said, Ben nodding once and lowering his head. You ripped off your jacket and boots, Ben barely lifting his chin as you cupped his cheeks. “I’m so proud of you.”

Confusion crossed his face as you smiled, wiping away a single tear that slipped free. “Why? I fucked everything up.”

“We still have to work on that self-worth I see,” you said, gently stroking over his cheek. “Benjamin. I love you and I’ll never give up on you. If you want better for me then you become that man because I picked you. I see you becoming him more and more everyday. But this Ben? The one right in front of me? I don’t love him any less than that other man.”

“I was an ass on purpose. I scared you,” he said. “You should-”

“No, you didn’t. But you needed a wakeup call because baby, I know you. I know you want me to hate you some days because you hate yourself. I know you think you trapped me. But you saved me, Soldier Boy. I need you to remember I’m here because with you is exactly where I want to be.”

He closed his eyes, an argument on the tip of his tongue. But he surprised you. 

“I just want you to be happy,” he whispered. You kissed his cheek and then his lips, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

“I am. You’re my happy place.”

“Oh god that’s sad,” he half-laughed, resting his head on your shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve earned that.”

“Tell that to the guy who decorated the whole house with the frilly little lights,” you said, Ben chuckling. “If you want to leave me Ben you can but never do that again.”

“I promise and that’s not happening,” he said. He hugged you gently, the room quiet for a beat and then another. “I saved your stew. Maybe we can have it for lunch tomorrow?”

“Sounds good,” you said, enjoying the warmth of him around you. “Was today as bad as you said it was?”

“No. But I know how to make you think less of me,” he said, pulling back. “You should still be upset with me.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “We’re not doing that. I know what I want and that’s for you to feel like you can talk to me when you start feeling bad. Please.”

“I’ll try,” he offered and you nodded, knowing that was all he could promise right now. You rested your head against his chest and breathed slowly, his heart thudding away strong and steady. “No.”

You frowned and looked at him, Ben raising his chin, nodding to himself. “No?”

“I won’t try. I’ll do it. No more trying. I will be better. End of story. I’m going to give you what you deserve.” 

“Someday I hope you can see how fucking far you’ve come,” you said, Ben shrugging. “Come on. Let’s head to bed. I’m exhausted.”

“Ben,” you said the next morning as you lay curled up in his side. He traced his fingers up and down your arm, offering you a sleepy smile. “Can I give you a Christmas present early?”

“Eh, after yesterday I think I’m on the naughty list,” he said, catching the frown on your face. “Sorry. Working on the self-worth thing. So uh, I guess sure?”

You took his hand and slid it under your shirt over your belly, his eyes narrowing. “Listen.”

He closed his eyes, sliding his hand down slightly. He swallowed once, eyes flashing open. He stared at your stomach for a solid ten seconds before finding your face, lips parting.

“There’s another heartbeat inside of you,” he whispered. “Two more.”

“I know,” you said softly, placing your hand over his. “I found out yesterday morning. I went to the doctor while I was out. I’m eight weeks.”

“Twins?” You smiled and nodded, Ben’s hand still on you. “And they’re mine?”

“Of course they’re yours,” you laughed, Ben swallowing thickly. “Ben. It’s going to be okay. I’m scared too but excited. We-”

“I-Is it a boy? Are they boys?” he asked. You smiled and touched your forehead to his. “Can you know that before?”

“Nowadays yeah, but it’s a little too early to find that out,” you said, his breath hitching. “Do you…want boys?”

“No. No, I don’t want boys,” he said, suddenly jumping out of bed, hands going to his thighs as he leaned over and made a wincing sound. “You have to leave.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, sitting upright. Ben turned around, crossing his arms over his bare chest. 

“I should not be anyone’s father. I-I’m going to fuck these kids up. I can’t…Jesus Y/N. I’m going to lose my temper and hurt them. Or I’ll be awful and raise them wrong. I can’t ruin their lives. I-I can’t be my father. I can’t-” You put his hand back on your stomach, Ben’s chest rising and falling quickly.

“You guys are going to have the best daddy in the world if he loves you this much already,” you said. Ben wanted to argue more but you shushed him. “Whatever they are, they’re going to be just fine.”

“How do you know that?” he whispered.

“Because we know everything not to do.” He thumbed over your skin, spreading his palm out wide. “I have to ask you to try for me one more time, Ben. Try to believe you’ll be good at this.”

He closed his eyes, a tiny smile crawling onto his lips. “If you’d asked me a year ago, I’d have told you I’d be a perfect father. Now…I know I would have destroyed them, made them awful little people like me.”

“Please stop saying things like that,” you whispered. He nodded, touching his forehead to yours. 

“If you taught me, I guess these two will be alright. But I have to learn faster. I need to…shit I don’t know anything about babies. How much do they eat? What do they eat? And what the hell do babies wear nowadays? And-”

“Shush,” you murmured, smiling to yourself. “Calm down, super dad. We get to learn this together. Okay?”

“Okay.” Ben’s breathing slowed, his gaze flickering down between you, staring at his hand with a goofy little look. You almost teased him about looking happy for the first time but held back the comment. Whatever was going on in his head right now was healing him, even if it was ever so miniscule. 

And that was the best gift he ever could have given you.

“Merry Christmas Ben.”

“Merry Christmas, baby…and babies,” he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. “Thank you. All of you.”

_________

[jaidens]

He Got That Boyish Look That I Like In A Man

pairing [s] : daniel larusso x reader

warning [s] : nothing! | this really sucks 😭 I just wanted to release something cuz I've been lacking on yall

a/n [s] : requests are open! [ALSO! should I challenge things? like flufftober??]

Whenever your job offers you a raise to become an Automotive Director of Engineering for the dealership in Reseda, California you take it without warning. In an attempt to get away from slushy winters in the small state of Connecticut, you moved swiftly to a small apartment with lovely neighbors and a new life. You had been to California on some vacations with family, but living here had never crossed your mind.

You walk into your office that smells like fresh paint and cleaner, and set your books and purse down on the dark-oak table. The company had hired some individuals to work for you, which felt weird to say, as you used to be the same person. Your assistant walks in with a tap on your glass door, and she walks in. “Hey! I’m Shannon. Anything you need, I'll be across the hall. I've already started on the connections with Toyota and Nissan!”

You smile at her and shake her hand that she was holding out for you. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Y/N L/N, but I assume you already know that!” You laugh and let go of her hand to hide any awkwardness and anxiety you had about being in such a high position.

“Okay well, I'll see you! And, someone has already set up a meeting with you!” Shannon says before walking away and shutting the door behind her.

You rub sweaty hands against your clothes and turn on your heels. The air-conditioning rumbles on and you wrap the small cardigan you had brought around you and begin staring at the paperwork that was placed in front of you. You start the work: scribbling works and many, many signatures with red pens and black pens. A knock is gentle against your door and you look up, and see Shannon and a very recognizable man standing there in a Navy suit and a smile on his face.

“This is Mr. Daniel Larusso. He owns Larusso auto parts and he said he wants to speak with you,” Shannon says, pushing her glasses up her nose and walking away.

The name sends a shiver down your spine as you hear it, and the face is suddenly very recognizable. The fateful summer vacation of 1986, fifteen-years old and young, and a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

You're sitting on the bench near the beach in a swimsuit and a big t-shirt, peeling through the boom. you had brought to your family vacation. Your family is on the beach setting up the tent and towels all across it to mark the place on the beach. The warm sun heats your skin up as you lay against the bench and continue flipping through your book that suddenly becomes boring.

A tan boy emerges from the water in orange trunks and black hair slicked back with salt water. An older and shorter man follows him up the coast and talks to him. You stare at him with your eyes following each of the tan’s movements. He notices your staring as he stares right back at you, eyes piercing into yours deliciously. His smile exposes his teeth and he knocks his head to the side and waves at you. The older man slaps the side of his head and scolds him.

You laugh at him before he tells the older man something then jogs over to you. His warm skin is a bronzy, and you swear there were twinkles of gold mixed in his skin shining against the light. “Hey, I’m Daniel. What are you reading?” The New Jersey accent rings out and you can't help but feel warmer.

“Oh some dumb romance. My name is Y/N, it's nice to meet you Daniel. Is that your Grandfather?” You cover your book up subconsciously to attempt to not get embarrassed, and point at the older man who seems weirdly angry next to the old car from the 40s.

Daniel shakes his head in response. “No, no. That’s Mr. Miyagi, he's my karate sensei. Is your book good?” He asks and you nod at his explanation, showing him you agreed.

“Yeah, my book is pretty good. You like karate? That's pretty awesome.” You tell Daniel and stare into his eyes. They're a soft, dark brown with a puppy-look inside of them. He looks your age, as he gets thrown a West Valley High soccer shirt that's bigger than him as he shrugs it on over his shoulders.

Daniel leaves with the older man after inviting you to the beach for a party held by the Football team and Cheer Team. You showed up in a baggy sweater and a pair of shorts. Daniel waved at you whenever he saw you, as he kicks around a soccer ball impressively on his two legs. You walk over to him and he laughs and kicks the ball over to you, and you catch it and throw it back to him with a shared laugh with him.

He sits down in the sand and you scoot closer to him. You're handed some hotdogs and sticks to cook over the fires made on the beach. You start one and hold a conversation about where you're from, why you were visiting, etc. The conversation was long, and filled with laughter and glances held longer than usual. Daniel handed you a drink and you declined, and he didn't drink as well.

You and Daniel just talk; it feels quite amazing. You haven't had a conversation like that in a long time, but everything falls out and you let your hand fall into his as you star-gaze further away from everyone else who was drunk and half-a drink away from throwing up on the beach. You almost find yourself staring at him more than the stars, admiring him underneath the full moon and stars. He looks beautiful both times: morning and night.

How are you supposed to leave Reseda and not think about Daniel when you leave back to Connecticut?

“I’m Y/N L/N, nice to see you again.”

[frostedpuffs]

got a new car a week ago today

car has been fine up until yesterday, where the check engine and battery light came on

shit. told myself I'd deal with it when I get home from work

on the way home from work it starts having electrical issues (won't tell me what speed I'm going/auto start-stop button keeps turning off on its own)

uh oh

make appointment with the dealership I got it at to be serviced

I bought the full warranty so everything should be covered at least!

warranty takes 30 days to take effect

anything they do I will be required to pay out of pocket

they will need to keep my car for at least a week

I will have to pay for a rental out of pocket

also apparently the kind of car I have can be stolen easily

cannot return the car because I am out of the 5 day return window so I'd lose all the money I put down toward it

HELL ON EARTH

[garbinge]

Cal & Sylv's Story

Cal x OC Sylvie Hawke

Summary: Cal & Sylvie's Love Story.

Word Count: 5k

A/N: I pulled lyrics from two songs here as songs the OC sings because I felt the lyrics really speak to her story. (July - Noah Cyrus // Lavender Haze - Taylor Swift Acoustic Version). Warnings: All my fics are 18+, regardless of content. Light angst, attitude, rudeness, light fluff. Grumpy/Sunshine-esque. 

All Writing Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989

“I just need someone to help me get it started!” The voice echoed throughout the auto body shop, pretty much disrupting everyone from their work. Through the corner bay she was working in, Sylvie looked up and saw the man. He was tall, had a headband placed over his messy blond bedhead but it was tucked back just enough to see a dangling solo earring from his ear. It was very obvious he was annoyed and waiting for someone to answer him at the front desk of the shop. She laughed to herself and turned her speaker up a bit more, not enough that anyone would notice but enough that the voices would be tuned out. It didn’t take long for the owner of the shop, Rod, who was a relatively big guy, to come out and quiet down the man who she believed went by Cal by the sound of things. Rod seemed to be familiar with Cal, he told him to calm down and had no problem offering himself to start the bike that had millions of modifications and needed a heavy foot to start it. When Cal had rolled it out of his truck bed a few minutes prior to him entering the shop, Syvlie had taken a quick glance at it and noticed immediately that it wasn’t stock in the slightest. 

She had moved from the bay she rented and into the community kitchen to grab herself a pop and make her way to the lot to see what was going to unfold. It wasn’t her thought alone, the whole lot of employees along with a good majority of customers from the shop had made their way out there too, eager to see how the events of starting this bike would unfold but also admiring the bike

Cal was impatiently waiting for Rod to make his way from behind the cashier counter and was on his heels when he finally did. Eagerly he turned to the lot but took a couple steps back when his eye caught a bike in an empty bay that looked like it was being worked on. He took a few steps closer, his hands leaning against the window glass to get a better look at it. The smile grew on his face before his name was being called from outside. 

The audience wasn’t small, even those who neighbored the shop had heard the commotion and gathered to see what was going to happen. Was the bike going to stall out? Was it just one big hunk of junk? Or did this guy actually have some credibility to him? Rod stepped on the clutch and it turned over immediately sending the roar of the engine throughout the lot mixed in with the cheers as well. Sylvie managed a small chuckle over the top of her soda can before turning back into the shop to grab her things and head home for the day. 

As she locked up her bay, she noticed most of the guys were still outside surrounding the modded bike and it was obvious the rest of the work day was going to shit from the distraction.

“Peace out, Sylvie.” Rod called out as he looked up from the front desk and caused her to turn around and give a polite nod. 

“Have a good night, Rod.” She slightly lifted her hand to give him the peace sign while adjusting her bag over her shoulder. The grease from her bike still stuck in the lines of her palms and the beds of her fingernails. 

“Yea, gonna be here late because these idiots have never seen a fully custom build.” He was teasing even though there was definitely truth behind it. This was one of the very few shops that had specialized in bikes in the area, so the few that did come in were pretty fresh off the dealership lot and looking for basic maintenance to be done to them. “You oughta open your bay up to them once in a while, show ‘em what you’re workin’ on, maybe then when people come in with shit like that, my boys won’t need their jaws scraped off the ground.” He was now closing out the register, counting bills as he finished speaking. 

“Ain’t my fault you don’t teach your guys how to look and not touch.” Her eyebrows raised and her arms folded across her chest as the smallest glimmer of a smirk filled her face. She knew the exact reason down to date and time of why she started closing her bay doors and locking it up when she wasn’t here. 

“Ahhh yea, it was Derek that accidentally pulled the kickstand down, right?” He laughed as he shook his head, knowing despite his employees being good mechanics, they sometimes didn’t have the brightest brains. 

“Wrecked the whole left side of my shit. Added an extra month to my time here.” The thought of what happened about 4 months ago started to bring that rage back slightly. The marks on the side of the body work, the bent metal from the pieces you had ordered in from out of state, even out of the country, not to mention the rent alone of the bay. 

“A month you made him pay for if I remember.” Rod was now locking up the register and leaning against the counter as he looked at the girl. 

“Fair’s fair.” She shrugged remembering how she threatened to break into his bay at night and steal his shit and sell it so she could pay for the rent herself or he could just take a percentage out of his paycheck and give it to Rod directly. 

“It’s looking good though, got a look when you popped out earlier.” His arms were crossed now too, along with one of his legs twisted over the other as they chatted. 

“Yea, just gotta find a couple more things before she’s done. Got my feelers out. I’ll find it soon enough.” She looked over her shoulder into the bay where the moon was now shining through the outside window and onto the bike she was chatting about, another shrug left her shoulders. 

“You sure we don’t have what you need layin’ ‘round here? You can take whatever, just give me the heads up so I can mark it down on inventory.” He shrugged too, his was more in a nonchalant way compared to Sylvie’s avoidant one. 

Rod was a good egg, as she so described it to her friends who’d always worry that she’d spend her time in mechanic shops and bars. He was older, middle-aged, had no kids, no wife, small one bedroom house with a big detached garage. This shop was his family, it was his wife, his kids, his heart and soul. And when he met people that shared that love, he was a little more inclined to open his heart up for them as well. 

“‘Preciate it, Rod. I wish it was that easy, but I’m too fuckin’ specific with what I need. Looking for an air filter. Not stock, want one of those mushroom ones, black, but not so big and bulky, they make ‘em with a metal cap, they’re small, punchy.” Her hands were waving around as she explained the part. This side of Sylvie was rare to see, the side of her that got so detailed and carried away with every small thing she could with her bike. The excitement around what she needed, why she needed it and how it was going to perform was the opposite of her usual stand-offish tone. It helped that she was also usually overly nice to Rod, he wasn’t a dick like so many of the guys that loved to tease a girl who got her hands dirty. 

“Know what you’re talking about, they’re new. Not a lot out there. I’ll put my feelers out too though.” Which coming from Rod, was a big deal. He knew a lot of people who knew a lot about cars and car parts. 

Their conversation was cut off as the engine roar from outside filled the area again while a couple of the guys stood on the starter together to achieve the weight needed for it to kick over. Their laughs were almost louder than the engine. 

Rod lifted his hand to use his thumb to point at the group outside as he pushed off the counter.  “You better get out of here before this whole place turns into whatever the fuck this is.” 

Within 20 minutes, Sylvie had left and the group from outside had dispersed. Cal came back in to thank Rod and drop him a couple bucks for his help. “You’re a great mechanic, Rod, you know that?” Cal was dropping the bills on the counter as he spoke. 

“I don’t need to be reminded. Maybe you can just let my guys work for once instead of fuck off.” He was grabbing the bills and trying his best at a firm stare. 

“They’ll get the message when you drop 2 hours from their checks this week, don’t worry.” Cal smirked and turned his head to see the bay he looked in before having its door locked and curtains drawn so the windows weren’t able to be peaked in anymore. “Hey, say, uh, whose bay is that?” 

That made Rod laugh. “Noneya.” 

“M’serious. Saw some decent work in their earlier, custom built Indian, right? ‘65?” 

“‘64. And it ain’t decent. It’s damn near flawless.” Rod was shaking his head, not needing to see the bike to know what the year of the bike was and how perfect the build was too. 

“Whoever it is must work after hours, looked like it’s damn near finished.” Cal was fishing for any information on the bike or bike owner that could help him sneak his way in to get a look. 

“Sylvie don’t work here, just rentin’ the bay. Think she’s just lookin’ for one of those metal cap mushroom air filters to replace the stock one.” 

“Sylvie knows her shit.” Cal stood impressed as he stared at the closed off bay again. They were standing in the middle of the shop now, the big main garage door being the only one open and the light on the outside of it being the only thing lighting up the space besides Rod’s desk lamp.

“Knows how to give you shit too, don’t even think about it. I’m warning you.” Rod pointed at him. 

“Have a good night, Rod! Ain’t scared of ya!” Cal was turning to leave the auto body garage now, he gave a quick lazy salute with his hand tipping off his headband as he walked out and Rod had to laugh at his naivety. 

Rod spoke under his breath through a smirk. “Ain’t me you gotta be warned about, Cal.” 

__________

It was obvious from the lot being packed that the bar only a few blocks from Cal’s house was filled to the brim. It was his last stop before heading home. He could have dropped his bike off in his own driveway, but that’d be too much work, plus it didn’t matter about a packed lot much when you had a bike, one could squeeze into half a spot and it’d still be plenty of room. But Cal didn’t need to. He was able to pull in next to another motorcycle. A smile formed on his face as he looked over the bike. It was the one from the auto body shop a few weeks ago, but there was a stock air filter now on the bike. It was then that Cal frowned, still smiling as the thoughts filled his head before he made his way into the bar. Curiosity was all over his face as he entered, his eyes were scanning every inch of the bar, every face in the place. 

“Next is a local favorite, Sylvie Hawke!” A voice in a microphone alerted Cal to look at the small corner stage in the front of the bar where he saw the curly haired wonder who went by the name Rod had mentioned. 

A smile grew on his face as he found an open seat at a random table and sat down, oblivious to those around him confused why he was sitting there. 

“Somethin’ I wrote called July.” Her voice was raspy but soft, the microphone felt like it was almost an intrusion on the beauty of it, at least that’s what Cal was thinking as she spoke. “Tips are not only appreciated but extremely encouraged and I’m working on getting the place to make ‘em required.” Sylvie was getting her acoustic guitar settled on her lap and situated on the stool as many in the crowd laughed at her joke but soon realized she wasn’t joking at all which made them laugh more. It worked though, because it did earn her a couple bills from some people immediately before even one string was strummed on her guitar. 

Cal wasn’t sure what he was expecting but he could describe what he was feeling similar to shock as he heard the girl begin to strum the chords and sing. Her voice was even more beautifully raspy as she sung, it was unique but one that any music producer would love to have on their roster. 

“Check it out, it’s the chick.” One of the guys sitting next to Cal elbowed the other across from him. 

“That’s her?” The other man questioned.

“From what I’ve heard, she gets down. Real bitch, but–”

“SH.” Cal cut the guy off, rather loudly so there was no room for any misinterpretation of what he meant. His eyes were still glued to Sylvie, not even bothering to look at the low lifes at the table with him as Sylvie continued to sing the song. 

Feels like a lifetimeJust trying to get by while we're dying insideI've done a lot of things wrongLoving you being oneBut I can't move on

Find someone that loves youBetter than I do, darling, I know'Cause you remind me every dayI'm not enough, but I still stay

It was then that Cal stood up, his chair screeching against the floor but it went unnoticed by most everyone in the bar due to the noise, the only people slightly observing him were the ones at his table that were more annoyed than concerned. He ran out of the bar, didn’t even bother grabbing his bike and just jogged the two blocks to his house. Within minutes he was inside his garage, looking around for something and when he found it, he audibly cheered and grabbed the black mushroom air filter, shoved it into the inside pocket of his patched jean vest and began his jog back to the bar pretty quickly.

Similarly to before, he searched around the bar for her. She must’ve only sung one song because someone else was up on stage now. As he scanned the room again, he found her, and he smiled so wide, his silver tooth was showing as he approached her. 

“Hi.” He was still grinning as he spoke. 

“Captain Morgan.” Her face was twisted in a funny smirk as she took in the tall blonde greeting him with a sarcastic tone behind her slight laugh. 

Cal’s face dropped in confusion at that greeting. “Huh?” He was searching for some explanation.

“The silver tooth.” She pointed to her own mouth before pointing to his. “Pirate thing.” 

“Oh,” He pointed to it as well and smiled even wider. “yea, I lost it ridin’ my scooter a couple years back.” 

“Scooter?” Sylvie was looking at him but moved her head back to trying to push through to the bar.

“That’s what people call them out in California.” He shrugged, a chuckle coming from him before he took in the frustration of the girl trying to push through the crowd. “What’s your drink?” He leaned down to make sure the girl heard him. 

“Just tryna get a beer.” The way she spoke was answering his question but in a way where she hoped he got she wanted nothing to do with him. Hell, she wasn’t even looking his direction as she spoke, just standing on her tip toes in hopes to make eye contact with the bartender.

“Pauly, let me get a brewski!” He called out over the crowd and within seconds, who Sylvie also knew to be Pauly was handing Cal a bottle of beer. She had performed here a good amount of times over the last weeks to get acquainted with the man tending bar but not enough to call out over a crowd of people to get his attention, let alone deliver on the request. 

“Here, on me. You–uh, got a real talent.” His finger was pointing to the stage as he handed her the bottle. 

“Look,” She stopped for a moment realizing that she didn’t know his name, “whatever your name is, I’m not really here for the small talk flirting and shit, I’m here to collect my tips, maybe try and grab another song slot and get the hell home.” 

“Cal, my names Cal.” He was still cheery as he spoke, not taking defeat yet. 

“Because you lived in California.” Despite the girl not wanting to be in this conversation didn’t mean she didn’t listen and pick up on things. 

“Yea.” He smiled proudly at the fact and also because she had been listening to him. “I, uh, got something for you, remind you that you’re enough and stuff.” He referenced the lyrics of her song as he started to reach in his pocket before she spoke up again. 

It was then that she immediately recognized him from the shop she rented the bay out of and she was even more eager to shut the conversation down. “Well, Cal. Thanks for listening, song wasn’t really about you, don’t think I’d ever write a song about you but, uh, great chatting.  Thanks for the beer, I’ll let you have it back.” She handed the bottle back to him before squeezing by and finding a hole in the bar to talk to Pauly about cashing out her performance tips. Cal didn’t even get the air filter out of his pocket yet when the girl dismissed him.

Cal saw what Rod meant now but it didn’t matter because he was enamored by her. He didn’t even try and get her attention back, just took the bike part and slipped it in her open messenger bag that was on her shoulder as she pushed by him. 

_______

“Where the fuck did I put it?” Sylvie mumbled under her breath as she searched for her keys. Her feet were moving down the stairs rapidly as she stressfully looked around. First her bedroom, now the small table near the door of her apartment, which was offering up nothing besides some empty gum wrappers and spare change. Now she was moving toward her messenger bag, the bag she’d bring to the shop and to the bar. It was unlikely it’d be there, she needed the keys to open her front door, she’d rarely ever put them back in her bag. 

But alas. They were there. 

“Found you.” She whispered again as she celebrated her win. Just as she was about to head out, she did a double take as she saw something deep and buried in her bag. Opening her bag a little wider to see something shiny, her hand dived in to grab it and pull it out. In her hands was a black metal cap mushroom air filter. The answers to her prayers if she was honest with herself, which she obviously wasn’t at this moment. The shock quickly faded to questions. Her mind started running, where on earth did this come from? She hadn’t been back to Rod’s shop in a while, considering all her searches came up empty for the very thing in her hand right now, the only logical explanation was that it was someone at the shop. But how could that be when she hadn’t been. 

Suddenly it hit her. 

Sylvie was out the door before the thought could even soak in for a second. It felt like without blinking she was in front of the bar, where she knew the Vandals hung out. The patch was something she remembered instantly as she realized who gave her the part. 

Without hesitating, she pushed through the doors and froze as she entered the building. Some of the guys that turned to look at the commotion must’ve thought she was frozen in shock or nerves but in reality she was scanning the room for him. During her second look over the room is when she spotted him, only when a couple of the guys standing towards the back of the pool table moved to get a better angle of their shots is when she saw the messy haired blonde and his headband sitting at a table with a couple other Vandal guys. 

“I thought I told you I didn’t need shit from you.” The words were spoken in pair with the slamming of the filter on the table. A couple of the guys jumped, not expecting such a bold, semi-aggressive move from anyone let alone this random woman. 

Cal turned, already knowing who it was just from looking at the part. “I actually think you told me you’d never write a song about me.” 

“Same shit.” She was letting go of the part now and standing firm in front of him, her arms crossed over her white tank top, the curls framed around her face were kinked in different directions from her ride over. 

“Heard Rod mention you needed it, saw that you had the stock part on your bike at the bar and had one laying around.” He shrugged, his voice sounded like he was in a whole different conversation than Sylvie. 

“Thanks but no thanks. Enjoy your–” Sylvie looked around and chuckled a little, “boys club.” 

As she made her way out, her eyes fell on the bike that she knew had to be Cal’s. It was fully custom, had the same air filter she wanted and just slammed on the table but in blue. She pulled out her cigarette box from her front pocket and searched for a lighter but remembered it was likely in the bag that she left home in her urgent run out. 

“Thought you’d be gone.” Cal was stepping out of The Stoplight, his voice just as calm as before. 

“Bike ain’t fast enough with my stock intake, you’d have seen me stopped at the red light still.” Sylvie pulled the cigarette out of her mouth to speak. 

“Can’t have that.” Cal was extending his hand out, his lighter flame flicked and Sylvie plopped the thing back in her mouth and leaned in to light her cigarette. 

“Too embarrassing.” She inhaled the smoke as she stood back up straight. 

The two stood silent, Cal lighting his own cigarette now as they stood nearly 6 feet from each other. One of them kicked their feet against the concrete sidewalk, the other awkwardly looked up at the sky. All until Sylvie broke the silence. “That one’s yours isn’t it.” She pointed with her cigarette.

“It is.” He nodded and grinned. Constantly grinning. That was what Sylvie was starting to realize about him. 

“Different from the one you had at Rod’s.” She crossed her arms now, trying to hold back her own curiosity of a smile. 

“I have a couple back at my barn.” Cal had turned to look at her now, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it to crush it against the concrete. 

“You build on your own property?” This was probably one of the girl’s first real reactions, despite the angry burst in. 

“I do.” He nodded, staring right at her. 

She was shocked. Her apartment was tiny, while it had an upstairs, it was more of a loft than a true second floor. For Sylvie to work on her bike, she had to rent spaces, put a cone out on the side of her street, maybe take up two parking spaces, but never just have everything you could need in her backyard like that. She was in awe. 

“I’m gonna go now.” She dropped her cigarette bud to the ground and slid her foot across it as well before pointing to her bike. 

“Alright,” Cal nodded with that same grin again. “See you on the road.” 

She was stepping over her bike now, kicking up the stand. “Until I find that mushroom filter.” 

_________

“I’ll buy the filter off you.” 

Cal dropped the wrench he had in his hand. “Jesus Christ.” 

Sylvie was standing in front of him, at his barn, with her hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans and looking relatively at ease in comparison to the times he’d seen her before. 

“How’d you find where I live?” He was getting up from the milk crate he was sitting on and grabbing a towel to wipe the grease off on it even though it barely did its job. 

“Rod’s got a big mouth.” 

“‘Course he does.” He laughed and grabbed a cigarette and placed it in his mouth before offering the box to Sylvie who lifted her hand and shook her head. 

“Just the part. What’ll you let it go for?”

Cal nodded and took his time lighting the cigarette before looking around the barn for the part. He clocked it, in one of his tool boxes sitting on a shelf. He started to think how he wanted this to go before turning back and speaking to the girl. 

“I was givin’ it to you for free, you know.” 

“Don’t like handouts.” There was the attitude he knew so well. 

He nodded again. “Tell you what.” He scratched his head, his headband getting misadjusted as he did so. “The part’s yours, but you gotta work for it.” 

“Work for it?” 

“Could use a hand on this ol’ girl.” He pointed behind him at the half built chopper. 

Sylvie stared at the bike for a good full minute before a slight nod escaped her. 

“Deal.” 

The rest was history. That was the moment that changed it all for both Cal and Sylvie. Eventually, Cal won the girl over. Despite Sylvie being a hard book to crack, Cal and her were pretty similar. Sure, Sylvie was full of attitude and spunk and Cal was goofy and grinny, but they both loved bikes,  where they’d take them, and the inner workings of ‘em. 

Cal brought her to The Stoplight, introduced her properly to all the guys, who fully understood why Cal was so taken by the woman, but she held her own with each one of them. It was one of the many things that made Cal really fall in love with her. He called her Sylvs, the rest of the guys did too, mimicking Cal, all but Johnny, who knew she wasn’t one to be fucked with and to him calling her by her full first name was his way of showing her that he respected her. 

It had been just shy of a year since Cal had met the girl, and now he found himself in the same spot, the bar a couple blocks down from his place watching her perform. But this time, he wasn’t at a table with random men, most of the Vandals had come down and were taking up half the building space and running up their tabs. 

“One of our lovely locals, singing an original song of her own, I’ll make her speech for her since we were ever so politely told by some lovely gentlemen and fans of the many talents that showcase here that we should make tips required, so we’ll be passing around the bucket, drop what you can.” The person introducing the performers spoke into the microphone. “Anyways, Sylvie Hawke, everybody!” 

Sylvie came out and adjusted herself on the stool, there were already tons of cheers she knew came from The Vandals. She chuckled into the microphone, a new trait of hers that Cal should have taken all the credit for. “Not sure what my intro should be now that my tip speech is officially null and void. I guess uh, this is something I never thought I’d write but here we are. Enjoy.” 

Starin' at the ceilin' with you

Oh, you don't ever say too much

And you don't really read into

My melancholia

I find it dizzyingThey're bringin' up my historyBut you aren't even listening

I feel the lavender haze creepin' up on meSurreal, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

I just wanna stay in that lavender hazeThat lavender haze

One of the locals started whispering, near Johnny who was perched up by the bar. 

“She’s a real bitch that one, real attitude on her.” 

“Ey–uh, some of us, we’re–uh, tryna enjoy the song, maybe you guys can quiet down?” He waved his beer in the air dismissing them but they just looked and continued their gossip. 

“Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time, I said you guys should quiet the fuck down.” Johnny was leaning down now, still speaking at a whisper but his tone didn’t show that. 

With that the men stopped talking and turned their attention to Sylvie who was finishing up her song. Cal was in the audience, grinning the entire song, enamored by the girl just as much as that first night he saw her in the same spot. He leaned over and whispered to Corky. “She wrote this one ‘bout me.”  

Just as she strummed the last cords on her guitar, the bar broke out in cheers, again, mainly from The Vandals but what truly brought the smile on Sylvie’s face was when she found Cal in the crowd clapping so eagerly all while he was grinning from ear to ear and she could see that silver tooth shining in the dim lit bar lights.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Nation of Change:

China’s largest automaker, BYD, is selling its Dolphin hatchback EV for a low-low $15,000, complete with a 13-inch rotating screen, ventilated front seats, and a 260-mile range. Here in the U.S., you have to pay more than twice that price for the Tesla Model 3 EV ($39,000) with lower tech and only 10 more miles of driving range. In case $15K beats your budget, the Dolphin has a plug-in hybrid version with an industry-leading 74-mile range on a single charge for only $11,000 and an upgrade with an unbeatable combined gas-electric range of 1,300 miles. Not surprisingly, EVs surged to 52% of all auto sales in China last year. And with such a strong domestic springboard into the world market, Chinese companies accounted for more than 70% of global EV sales.

It’s time to face reality in the world of cars and light trucks. Let’s admit it, China’s visionary industrial policy is the source of its growing dominance over global EV production. Back in 2009-2010, three years before Elon Musk sold his first mass-production Tesla, Beijing decided to accelerate the growth of its domestic auto industry, including cheap, all-electric vehicles with short ranges for its city drivers. Realizing that an EV is just a steel box with a battery, and battery quality determines car quality, Beijing set about systematically creating a vertical monopoly for those batteries — from raw materials like lithium and cobalt from the Congo all the way to cutting-edge factories for the final product. With its chokehold on refining all the essential raw materials for EV batteries (cobalt, graphite, lithium, and nickel), by 2023-2024 China accounted for well over 80% of global sales of battery components and nearly two-thirds of all finished EV batteries.

Clearly, new technology is driving our automotive future, and it’s increasingly clear that China is in the driver’s seat, ready to run over the auto industries of the U.S. and the European Union like so much roadkill. Indeed, Beijing switched to the export of autos, particularly EVs, to kick-start its slumbering economy in the aftermath of the Covid lockdown.

Given that it was already the world’s industrial powerhouse, China’s auto industry was more than ready for the challenge. After robotic factories there assemble complete cars, hands-free, from metal stamping to spray painting for less than the cost of a top-end refrigerator in the U.S., Chinese companies pop in their low-cost batteries and head to one of the country’s fully automated shipping ports. There, instead of relying on commercial carriers, leading automaker BYD cut costs to the bone by launching its own fleet of eight enormous ocean-going freighters. It started in January 2024 with the BYD Explorer No. 1, capable of carrying 7,000 vehicles anywhere in the world, custom-designed for speedy drive-on, drive-off delivery. That same month, another major Chinese company you’ve undoubtedly never heard of, SAIC Motor, launched an even larger freighter, which regularly transports 7,600 cars to global markets.

Those cars are already heading for Europe, where BYD’s Dolphin has won a “5-Star Euro Safety Rating” and its dealerships are popping up like mushrooms in a mine shaft. In a matter of months, Chinese cars had captured 11% of the European market. Last year, BYD began planning its first factory in Mexico as an “export hub” for the American market and is already building billion-dollar factories in Turkey, Thailand, and Indonesia. Realizing that “20% to 30%” of his company’s revenue is at risk, Ford CEO Jim Farley says his plants are switching to low-cost EVs to keep up. After the looming competition led GM to bring back its low-cost Chevy Bolt EV, company Vice President Kurt Kelty said that GM will “drive the cost of E.V.s to lower than internal combustion engine vehicles.”

So, what does all this mean for America? In the past four years, the Biden administration made real strides in protecting the future of the country’s auto industry, which is headed toward ensuring that American motorists will be driving $10,000 EVs with a 1,000-mile range, a 10-year warranty, a running cost of 10 cents a mile, and 0 (yes zero!) climate-killing carbon emissions.

Not only did President Biden extend the critical $7,500 tax credit for the purchase of an American-made EV, but his 2021 Infrastructure Act helped raise the number of public-charging ports to a reasonable 192,000, with 1,000 more still being added weekly, reducing the range anxiety that troubles half of all American car owners. To cut the cost of the electricity needed to drive those car chargers, his 2022 Inflation Reduction Act allocated $370 billion to accelerate the transition to low-cost green energy. With such support, U.S. EV sales jumped 7% to a record 1.3 million units in 2024.

Most important of all, that funding stimulated research for a next-generation solid-state battery that could break China’s present stranglehold over most of the components needed to produce the current lithium-ion EV batteries. The solution: a blindingly simple bit of all-American innovation — don’t use any of those made-in-China components. With investment help from Volkswagen, the U.S. firm QuantumScape has recently developed a prototype for a solid-state battery that can reach “80% state of charge in less than 15 minutes,” while ensuring “improved safety,” extended battery life, and a driving range of 500 miles. Already, investment advisors are touting the company as the next Nvidia.

But wait a grim moment! If we take President Donald Trump at his word, his policies will slam the brakes on any such gains for the next four years — just long enough to potentially send the Detroit auto industry into a death spiral. On the campaign trail last year, Trump asked oil industry executives for a billion dollars in “campaign cash,” and told the Republican convention that he would “end the electrical vehicle mandate on day one” and thereby save “the U.S. auto industry from complete obliteration.” And in his victory speech last November, he celebrated the country’s oil reserves, saying, “We have more liquid gold than anyone else in the world.”

[billhader]

Light Pollution

Another Anoush/Louie one-shot by meeeeeee

Anoush and Louie have to spend three days together at an auto convention in Las Vegas. On their final night, Louie takes charge and drags Anoush out for a proper Vegas night on the town. Well...that was the plan, anyway.

Rating: Mature (non-explicit sex scene, alcohol and cannabis use, canon-typical profanity and vulgarity)

Chapter word count: 10.2k

Relationships: Louie LaRusso/Anoush Norouzi

Characters: Louie LaRusso, Anoush Norouzi, Original Character(s)

Tags: POV Third Person Limited, Louie's POV, Co-workers to lovers, There Was Only One Bed (kind of), Banter, One Night Stands,Pining, What happens in Vegas…sorry, Hot Tub, Jealousy, Implied/Referenced Sex, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Late Night Conversations, set around season 4-5, Author Has Never Set Foot in a Car Dealership

Click here to read on AO3, or continue below

Comments/feedback EXTREMELY appreciated <3

  “Is this what you’ve been doing all day?”

Louie jolted up straight and grabbed his iPad before it slipped off his lap. He scowled at Anoush, who was looming over him like a hall monitor on a power-trip. “The fuck you sneaking up on me for?”

Anoush scoffed and waved a hand in front of Louie’s eyes. “Hello? I was waving at you from over there.” He gestured to a leafy tropical potted plant - one of countless lush plants that formed a low canopy on the periphery of the cavernous lobby of the Bellagio. Fanning, slender leaves arced towards Louie in the center of the sweeping room, thousands of accusing green fingers pointing at him. “Were you seriously asleep where anybody could walk by and see you? Where vendors could see you?”

“No! Jesus. I was just lookin’ at the ceiling.” Louie pointed upward. “Come on, you seen this shit?”

“Yeah, Louie. I saw it this morning when we got to the registration table. Very nice.”

“Will you relax and sit down? Fuck, man.”

When Louie smacked the cushion beside him, Anoush relented. With a massive sigh, he dropped onto the blobby blue sofa. Caught off guard by its irregular shape, he lost control of his body and tipped backward, landing on the deep back cushions with a squeak in the back of his throat. Louie stifled a laugh. On the quick flight over, he’d promised Anoush he wasn’t going to be a complete asshole for the entire trip, and he thought he was doing okay so far. At least from Anoush’s new angle, he had no choice but to look at the ceiling.

“Okay, I’m relaxed,” Anoush declared. “Happy?” 

“Like hell you're relaxed.” As evidence, Louie grabbed Anoush by the arm. It was immediately wrested away, and Anoush crossed his arms over his chest. “Never seen anyone come here and be such a fuckin’ tightass.”

“I think I’m being pretty normal, under the circumstances.”

“What circumstances? Getting three days off work to let loose in Vegas?”

“You can let loose,” Anoush said flatly. “I told you, I don't care what you do. I’m not your babysitter, which is what I told Amanda…oh, an hour ago.” He flashed his phone screen in Louie’s face. “See?”

“Our babysitter growin’ up was hot as fuck.” Louie snickered. “She’d wear these little cutoff shorts…”

Anoush’s face scrunched up. “Ew. Help me understand how you had great numbers last quarter, you’ve actually been coming in on time, the whole nine yards…and now you've regressed into a state of total chaos.”

“You asked me the exact same thing a month ago, so you should know the answer,” Louie retorted. “You gotta relax. You're not even appreciating this ceiling.”

“I’ve seen it,” Anoush hissed. Now he was glaring daggers at Louie. “I just spent two and half hours at a Honda Research Institute panel, learning about fucking hydrocarbon reclamation, because I’ve. Been. Working. All day. I haven't eaten anything since breakfast, because the only thing I had time for at lunch was the sushi bar and they didn't have any markers for which rolls contain shellfish. So if you could do, I don't know, one fucking thing to get us a lead before we go home, that's all I ask. One meeting, one normal and professional round of drinks, one conversation that involves business topics and not fantasy football…anything, Lou.”

A slow grin overtook Louie’s face. In a few seconds, Anoush was going to be more blustery and torrential than he was already. Anticipating the thunderstuck expression he’d pull gave Louie a sick buzz. “That’s all you want me to do? You coulda just said that instead of freaking out.”  

“What?”

Louie reached into a small pocket in his jacket’s lining. With a flourish, he produced a stiff stack of business cards and held them right up to Anoush’s nose. “That’s what I got between nine and lunchtime.”

Anoush crossed his eyes trying to read the first card. He snatched them from Louie and sat up as best he could on the sofa, leafing through the colorful array. “From where?”

“Buncha guys. Don’t get your grubby fingerprints all over ‘em. I’ve just been introducing myself to whoever I see with a convention lanyard. I got another pile back in the room from yesterday.” Louie stretched and got even comfier in his lounging position. “That one you’re holding, that’s a dude from Amperell.”

Anoush whipped his head around. “You’re messing with me. This is a blank card.” He looked at the card again, squinting at it until his eyes flew open wide. “You’re not messing with me. Wow. Who the hell does a raised matte black text on a matte black background?”

“They wanna partner with us for the launch of their electric SUV next year. First production round, promos…” Louie trailed off, unable to contain laughter at Anoush’s jaw going slack. He could be nice, sure, but Anoush couldn’t reasonably expect him be considerate and professional all the time. “See, this is why you’re not closin’ deals. You can’t stay cool.”

“I am closing deals,” Anoush countered. He slapped the business cards down on Louie’s stomach. “Just…not with Amperell.”

“Tell you what,” Louie said as he put them away. “I'm feeling generous. I’m a reasonable man. I’ll share credit with you for bringing them in, fifty-fifty--” he pointed at Anoush -  “--under two conditions.”

Anoush blinked. “I sincerely can’t recall a time where you displayed an ability to be reasonable.”

“See, I’m even gonna let that slide, on account of me bein’ such a cool and nice guy. You want my conditions or not?”  Louie could see Anoush doing math in his head. his mouth moved almost imperceptibly, whispering to no one.

“Fine.”

“Alright. Condition one: you had your night last night, you got your quiet reading time by the pool, you made me leave Mandalay Bay at ten o’clock like a ninety year old…so tonight's my night.”

Anoush went pale. “No.”

“Let me finish!”

“No chance.”

“I’m not gonna make you go up the Stratosphere, okay? Pinky swear. No scary rides. I was givin’ you a hard time last night.” Louie reached for Anoush's hand and forced a pinky swear, chuckling when Anoush made a face and wiped his hand on his pants. “Come on, you're not havin’ any fun here, you’re depressing me. I’ll decide what we do, but it's not gonna be a drag. Promise, man. I been to Vegas like eighty thousand times, I know what to avoid.”

Anoush sighed, Oxford-clad foot tapping a disorganized beat on polished marble. “...I know I don't wanna get blackout drunk.”

“Why’re you assuming that’s what I wanna do?” Louie snorted. “I know I’m a piece of shit, but I’m not twenty-five anymore and blacking out’s a waste of time. We're only here one more night.”

“So what would you want to do?”

“I dunno yet. Gotta see where the evening takes us. Vegas, baby.”

Louie knew better than most that Anoush was no great lover of spontaneity. Contrary to what Anoush probably believed, the last thing he wanted was to torment his friend. He’d paid some attention to Anoush’s litany of grievances with Las Vegas and its very existence for the past several weeks. They’d come a long way since reuniting at the dealership, easing into a natural closeness and mutual understanding, and Louie was confident he could arrange an inoffensive night on the town tailored to Anoush’s needs if Anoush would just trust him.

When his shoulders slumped out of their rigid right angle, Louie knew he was hooked.

“What’s your second condition?” Anoush asked. 

“You’ll love it.”

“Oh god.”

Louie grinned. “Second condition is you shut up for five minutes and look at the fuckin’ ceiling with me.” 

Anoush’s laughter was a relief to hear. He’d barely smiled since they’d arrived. “What is with you and this ceiling? It’s like a giant glass baby mobile for you.’

“You’ll understand if you accept the conditions.”

“I accept,” said Anoush, flopping back on the sofa once more and lying back as far as he could on the cushions. “Whatever. Five minutes, then food.”

“Sure, but I get to pick the food.”

“Food’s the only choice I know I can trust you with.” He glanced at Louie with a soft smile. Louie made the mistake of catching his eye, and Anoush swiftly broke the contact and looked upward. “What do I even look at? There’s way too much going on.”

“Every time you talk,” Louie said, “your five minutes start over.” 

“Tell me why you like it so much first.”

“Don’t make me set a timer on my phone. You shoulda never showed me how to do that.”

With a heavy sigh, Anoush glanced at his watch and fell silent.

Louie finally got to gaze into the curves and drooping lobes of the glass sculpture again. In the absence of banter, he could hear every footstep echo from the front entrance to the front desk. Low mid-week murmurs floated over marble, and sporadic bouts of laughter collided with the ceiling and chimed from one whirling glass flower to the next. If Louie concentrated hard enough, focused on the overlaps where orange splashes met ballooning pockets of pink and blue, his sight wavered and the pieces began to move, their edges undulating like jellyfish in the gentlest current. He watched, breathing slow, as if a sudden movement would bring the whole installation crashing down. Beside him, Anoush didn’t move an inch.

“You get it now?” Louie eventually asked. He hadn’t kept track of the time. When he tore his gaze away from the sculpture to look at Anoush, artifacts of popping color overlaid his vision and swam across Anoush’s skin for a brief instant before fading. Still transfixed, his smile was slack and peaceful.

“I think so,” he mused. Another bout of warm silence, then: “I think I read somewhere that Chihuly is an asshole.”

“Goddamn it, Anoush.”

“What?!”

-----

Dinner and a top-shelf tequila did wonders for Anoush’s demeanor, as it usually did. Louie had been through this moody, snippy routine with him for a thousand afternoons, and was more than happy to treat him if it meant he’d chill out for a minute. And once they returned to their suite at the Cosmopolitan and Anoush was tearing off the stuffy clothes he’d been wearing all day, all the better. 

“Don’t make me go back out there.” He flopped face-first on the bed in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear. “ ‘S too hot.”

“Y’know, for some reason I thought you’d be okay with a two minute walk between one air-conditioned building and another,” Louie chided from his spot on the oversized couch as he pondered two different shirts laid out in front of him. He knew Anoush hated them both, so there was really no losing. “Shoulda known better.”

“Two minute walk through an oven set to broil,” Anoush said. “I don’t know if I can get up again.” He yawned into the duvet. “This bed is too good.”

Louie made a face. “Ain’t that nice. I wouldn’t know.”

“Did I or did I not offer to switch off with you?”

“I don’t want your bed germs.”

“They change the sheets every day.”

“Seriously, man, I’m good on the couch. I can sleep wherever. One time my buddy and I passed out in the alley out behind this club in Seaside, and I slept like a fuckin’ rock.”

Anoush groaned, turning onto his side to face Louie. “Not this again…And then you woke up, saw your seventh grade bully down the street at Dunkin’ Donuts, you beat each other to a pulp, and he ended up in the bed next to yours in the ER. And now you’re friends on Facebook, and everyone fist-pumped happily ever after.”

“Aw, you do listen to my stories,” Louie gushed. To Anoush’s credit, he did look a bit overheated. His neck and cheeks were suddenly pink and blotchy.

“I still think they should’ve given us money back for putting us in the wrong room.”

“You didn’t hear the guy at the desk blowing smoke up my ass? Technically we got a free upgrade or whatever, technically there are still two beds ‘cause the couch has a bed that pulls out, blah blah blah. They don’t give a fuck. Least it’s not our money.”

Anoush narrowed his eyes. “The couch pulls out? Why didn’t you pull it out the last two nights?”

“Will you quit distracting me?” Louie had no idea why he didn’t pull it out. It simply hadn’t occurred to him. Whoops. “C’mon, get your lazy ass outta bed, put on somethin’ nice.”

“Now you want me to get dolled up for you?” Anoush said with a dramatic sigh. He smiled at his own joke, but Louie forgot how to respond. Grunting with the effort of getting himself upright when he really didn’t want to, Anoush rolled his head from side to side. Louie watched him stretch one arm across his chest, then the other. “Remember, I have my limits.”

“I know, I heard you the eighteenth time you said that.”

“I reserve the right to pull the plug if I want to.”

“You reserve the right to pussy out. Man, you make it sound like I’m flying you into fuckin’ Vietnam. It’s just a casino. Take your allergy meds now so the cigarette smoke doesn’t get to you so much.”

“That’s…not a bad idea. Okay, maybe you do have a completely normal night planned.” Anoush stood in front of his closet and tugged off his t-shirt, throwing it behind him. Arm holes billowing wide, the shirt fluttered down to the foot of the bed. “I still don’t trust you, because I’m not stupid, but It’d be more entertaining if you prove me wrong.”

Anoush’s bare back was ramrod-straight until the point where it curved. There were two small moles, one lighter than the other, above the small of his back. He reached for the shelf above him and the faint bumps of his spine swiveled and spread apart, arcs of movement sweeping through the smooth planes of his slender arm like a swell of roiling glass. The setting sun reflected between his shoulder blades and bounced all over the hotel room. 

“I will,” said Louie, transfixed. “Love proving you wrong.”

----

Anoush forced Louie to wear his least shiny shirt, so getting lost in Caesar’s Palace was really Anoush’s own fault. There’s no way he would have lost sight of Louie otherwise. And he certainly couldn’t blame Louie for wandering away from the craps table, lured by the temptation of the curvy brunette who brushed against his shoulder on the way to the bar. It was nothing but natural, nothing but Louie on auto-pilot. Stimulus, response, stimulus, response. 

Maybe that was why Anoush didn’t click into this town the way Louie did - he needed to consider every option laid out in front of him. Louie would be exhausted if he had to think that hard all the time. He just did whatever captured his attention first, barreling down on a situation to seize it tightly and submerge himself in whatever was meant to happen next. Not that Louie was sure he believed that anything in life was meant to happen. Vanessa loved to talk his ear off about the power of manifestation, radical acceptance, the id and the ego, a bunch of frilly terms that boiled together and came out tasting the same. All Louie really paid attention to on nights like tonight was the flow.

God or the universe probably didn’t push this girl into his view, or compel him to buy her a drink, or another drink after that.  It was just happening, and Louie was all-in, for better or worse, whether he really felt like talking to her or not. She had a nice laugh, and when she leaned closer she carried the smell of coffee and artificial vanilla. Any questions he asked her fizzled with casual shrugs and giggles - all he learned was that she was from Tampa by way of Huntsville and twice divorced - but she didn’t mind him rambling about cars and sports betting, and she definitely didn’t mind his hand resting on her bare knee.

She was practically hanging off his arm when he glanced across a sea of blackjack and clamorous unicorn-themed slots to where he’d last seen Anoush, perched on a blue and gold stool that squeaked as he nervously twisted back and forth. Louie had left him there after teasing him for bringing down the vibes at the craps table. He figured Anoush would get the hang of it on his own--it was just dice, for Pete’s sake--but someone else was sitting on the stool now. Louie’s eyes darted across the general vicinity, figuring he couldn’t have gone far. It had only been a few minutes since--no, shit, it had been over an hour, he realized with sinking guilt. When was the last time he’d checked on Anoush? Had he checked at all? He punched out a quick where u at text and turned his attention back towards the woman, internally weighing whether or not he could trust Anoush to look out for himself in the bowels of the vast resort. 

“What’s on your mind?” she cooed. 

“Nothin’s on my mind, baby. Nothin’ but you.”

“Those eyebrows of yours give you away.” Her fingers spider-walked up his forearm, the crescent of each short, badly-painted nail slowly pricking his skin. “I like a guy who’s easy to read. And a bad liar.”

“Yeah?” Louie was only half-listening.

“Mhm. Means you’d never dare to cheat.”

“Just lost track of the dude I came in with, that’s all.”

“Ohhh.” She nodded. “The short guy. I bet he found a friend to talk to, like you did.”

“Yeah. I wouldn't be so sure,” Louie mused. “Sorry, I better text him.”

Louie wasn’t a complete dick. He got her number before leaving her to sip her mai tai alone, but by the time he’d searched down the twelfth or thirteenth aisle of slot machines he’d forgotten her name. Bella or Stella or Louella. Nice girl, but Anoush wouldn’t approve. Louie could practically hear him in his head, bitching about how she ended nearly every sentence with “so…”

At first he figured Anoush couldn’t have journeyed far, but he soon understood exactly how Anoush could’ve lost his way just trying to find a bathroom. Outside of the casino, the lights and smells down the winding avenues of restaurants and shops were disorienting. He searched for Anoush under the glowing sponge-painted bowl of a fake sunset, between colonnades of plaster and foam, peeking into each luxury store and cigar lounge in case Anoush had been tempted inside by the finer things in life.

With no luck, Louie doubled back past Michaelangelo’s David, pausing for just a second as he was distracted by the statue’s striking gaze and the incredible detail on his triceps--was Michaelangelo gay or something?--before making his way out to the pools. He didn’t really expect to find Anoush out where the rowdiest people were likely to be, but fresh air sounded nice now that the burning, choking sun was nearly gone, and perhaps Anoush had the same idea.

Sure enough, dry mountain winds were sneaking back into town, rushing through the tunnel created by the Strip’s shiny towers with a hollow moan. Louie perched on the edge of a lounge chair and sighed, drinking in chlorinated air and thinking about all the chips he’d be accumulating if Anoush hadn’t suddenly developed a thirst for adventure. His attention divided equally between scanning for a familiar face around each pool and the vicious argument unfolding between three bikini-clad women at the swim-up bar. Just as one woman stormed away from her shouting companions, dripping water from her dark mane of hair and headed right in Louie’s direction, his phone buzzed in his back pocket.

ADouche Norouzi Hello????????????

Louie threw up a hand and mumbled “C’mon, you serious?” Apparently he was loud enough for the gorgeous, angry woman passing by to hear. She made a disgusted noise and shot him a dirty look over her shoulder. Louie nearly called after her--either to apologize or to say hey, they’re just jealous of you, sweetheart--but the voice of his mother snapping shut that damn mouth before I shut it for you won out.

Not only was Anoush eating into Louie’s potential winnings, he was making a valiant run for the Worst Wingman Lifetime Achievement Award by actively destroying Louie’s chances of getting laid, all without being anywhere near him. He typed furiously and fired off a reply without proofreading.

Wtf maan wehred u go

It took Anoush much longer to reply than it should have, in Louie’s humble opinion. When his response did come through, it was a .GIF of a boy in sunglasses and a blue jacket dancing in a nightclub. He looked pretty cool. Way cooler than Anoush.

Thats not a place

Been looking all over

R u dead

Kidnapped

Put out an amber alert for ur dumb ass

Read 9:37pm

Anoush’s typing bubble popped up again for an instant, then disappeared and did not return. Louie rubbed a hand over his face. Without the distraction of dice and cards and beautiful women, the busy work trip was catching up to him. Despite teasing Anoush about turning in early the previous night, he had to admit that it’d been nice to get a decent night of sleep for once.

If he didn’t find Anoush soon, he’d be tempted to head back to the Cosmopolitan and commandeer the king bed for himself. But that option was just as sad and pathetic as getting ditched by the only co-worker who semi-tolerated him and spending the remainder of his night shooting craps alone. He no longer believed Anoush had gotten lost, but instead wandered off to make his own fun, and he had no right to be mad about it because he’d left Anoush behind first.

He was mad anyway. 

The dancing .GIF was enough of a clue, even for a bonehead like him. Anoush probably thought a moving picture would be easier for him to understand than words. Heading back indoors, Louie made his way to the resort’s nightclub, although now he was uncertain whether his presence there would be welcomed if Anoush was, in fact, partying solo. The line to enter the club was sparse, which was good for everyone involved because Louie never waited in line. Being such a large space, a decent weekday crowd still made the expansive main dance floor look dead. Through the shadows and strobes he spied the entrance to another dance floor off of the main dance floor, an outdoor terrace upstairs, VIP tables and booths as far as the eye could see, and at least four different bars… 

Fifteen or twenty years ago, Louie would’ve absolutely destroyed the place and left on a stretcher, or in handcuffs, or both. Now he was just a cranky old man with intermittent pain in his left knee, a twinging reminder of rough high school football tackles. The DJ wasn’t playing anything he recognized.

Well, maybe he could fix that. The dude didn’t seem all that busy. He didn’t see the first shallow step down to the sunken dance floor and nearly ate shit, but thankfully righted himself without the buzzing group of bachelorette party celebrants nearby noticing. The short blonde one winked at him over the bride’s shoulder. Sorry, baby, I’m older than dirt and falling apart. Now his stupid ankle hurt as he approached the stage.

“You take requests?”

The young guy, a Latino kid with a full beard and thick-framed red glasses, peered down at him. He was twisting a knob on his board back and forth with no effect on the piped-in sound. He shrugged.

“Not really s’posed to, but we’re slow.”

“No manager’s gonna get pissy with you, right?”

“Nah.” The kid smiled. “He couldn’t be bothered to show up tonight.”

Louie snorted. “Typical, huh.”

“For real. Pisses me off.”

“Yeah, but the place probably runs better without his lazy ass anyway.”

“It really does,” the DJ laughed. shaking his head. “What you wanna hear?”

“I dunno. Somethin’ not from this decade. Or the last one, ideally.”

“Hmm. Lemme see what I got, boss.”

He managed to follow instructions. “Better Off Alone” by Alice Deejay was an extremely safe but recognizable choice that drew even the laziest of revelers to the dance floor. Except Anoush, naturally. With few people left sitting down, Louie finally located his dark curly head, facing away from the action. He was sitting at a low table ensconced by a semi-circular booth, positioned opposite from some random dude Louie didn’t recognize. Thin chinstrap of a beard, thin eyebrows, thin tie. Reminded Louie of a toothpick with a balloon for a head. As he approached from behind, skirting around the churning mass of dancers, Anoush’s laugh floated towards him over the thrumming bass. He walked faster.

“I couldn’t deal with that, dude. No way. Not for all the money in the world,” the stranger shouted across the table, just as his eyes landed on Louie. “Oh, hey, is this your guy?”

Anoush looked over his shoulder, and his slack smile only grew wider. “Oh my God, you’re not dead!”

“Neither are you, by some fuckin’ miracle,” Louie said. He didn’t feel inclined to return the happy sentiments. Anoush had been disappointingly sober when Louie left him, and he definitely wasn’t now. It bothered him, the idea of these two drinking and swapping stories while he wandered around the resort like a fool. “Why didn’t you tell me where the fuck you were?”

“Uh, I did.” Anoush shook his phone in Louie’s face. The suave dancing boy mocked him anew.

“Yeah, only like an hour after you fuckin’ vanished into thin air.” Louie made a point to ignore the indignance that screwed Anoush’s face into a stark new configuration. “You gonna introduce me, or what?”

“Oh, I know your name.” The smile of the unknown man betrayed teeth that were insulting in their brightness and uniformity. His hand extended towards Louie. “I’m Raman. We were just talking about you and your badass family. You two see a lot more excitement than my dealership, that's for sure.”

Louie had no choice but to complete the handshake, and he did his best not to crush Raman’s lithe fingers before dropping his hand like a stone. He took a deep breath before opening his big mouth for once. “Talking about my family, huh. That's cool.” 

“Only good things, I swear!” Raman chuckled. “Almost makes me want to go back to working with my family. Except they're in construction and I can't even build a gingerbread house.”

Louie noticed Raman rubbing and clasping his hands together, self-soothing. And Louie was purposefully not meeting Anoush’s gaze, because the piercing heat radiating from below sufficed. Anoush’s eyes were dark and deep enough to trip and fall into. Rich brown took on a vague tint of burgundy when his anger escaped. Louie had witnessed it, felt it, and caused it before. If he looked down now, his throat would sear shut. 

“Ain’t all it’s cracked up to be,” he eventually said. He sank into the booth beside Anoush, who snatched up the denim jacket he’d shrugged off earlier and scooted away from him with a few jerky motions. “Did he tell you about my cousin’s wife?”

Raman’s guffaw was almost drowned out by the hook of a new song. “Just wait ‘til he tells you about my wife.”

Louie laughed, but he was cut off by Anoush’s sharp little elbow in his side. Right. Don’t shit-talk the boss. Even if she routinely busts your balls in front of God and everybody. Got it.

“What, you two know each other or something?”

“We were seated next to each other in the Honda Research seminar today,” Raman said. “Back row, like cool kids.”

“Raman’s with Rossi Auto in San Diego,” Anoush interjected. Chancing a sidelong glance, Louie got the message loud and clear. He resented that Anoush naturally expected him to misbehave. Then again, maybe that concern wasn’t unwarranted. But hadn’t the elbow to his kidney been warning enough? Sheesh.

“Oh yeah, I think we had dinner with some guys from Rossi in Palm Springs. How many locations again?”

“We’re up to thirteen. Our newest collision center just had its grand opening in San Clemente. And Q2 next year, I’m taking over the opening of our new Chevy location in Irvine.”

“Irvine,” Louie echoed. “Damn. Irvine, huh. Pretty much our backyard.”

“We’ll practically be neighbors.” Raman was showing off those stupid teeth again.

“Please,” Anoush scoffed. “Last month, it took me two hours to get to Irvine from my place.”

Louie squinted at him. “The hell were you goin’ to Irvine for?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Smile stubbornly plastered on, Raman’s gaze bounced back and forth between the two. “Hey, this must be the dream team in action.”

Whatever this stringbean asshole’s deal was, Louie was in no mood to find out. And he was a bonehead, but he knew when he was being mocked. Where did this guy get off, inviting Anoush to his table and plying him with martinis when they’d met only hours ago? Why would Anoush choose to hang out with Raman on the last night of their trip?

“You’re looking at 3.6 million in sales last quarter alone.” He leaned back, draping his arm over the back of the booth. “So yeah. Jordan and Pippen.” This time, Anoush kicked his shin. Louie kicked back.

“Ow.”

“Huh. Fuck.” Raman drained his drink and leaned forward to set down the glass, checking his phone at the same time. “Maybe if I get bored, I’ll jump ship and come be your Rodman.” When he looked up again, something behind Louie’s head distracted him. His face lit up. “Fuck, baby, there you are! Wait, what’s going on?”

The interruption felt like divine intervention. Louie was on the verge of saying something truly uncalled for. Sometimes, the flow just needed to be cut off. He turned, only to be faced with the same woman he’d encountered out by the pool. Go fucking figure. She’d changed into a strapless green dress and her dark hair was drying out in cascading waves, but her scowl hadn’t changed a bit. Recognition flickered in her eyes when she noticed Louie.

“Nothing’s going on,” she answered, not missing a beat. “I’m just tired.”

Raman reached for her hand and coaxed her closer. “Guys, this is Marci, my wife. Babe, I was telling you about Anoush at dinner, and this is Lenny.”

“Louie,” Anoush quickly corrected before Louie could.

Raman scoffed. “Listen to me. Sorry, Louie.” Louie had heard more sincere apologies from partners who’d cheated on him. “Hey, where’re Nishita and Kirti?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Marci said flatly. “Can we get out of here? I told you I want to go to that show.”

“So they’re not coming? Then why’d I get a table?”

Marci shrugged. “Don’t know why you’re surprised that your sisters are inconsiderate.”

After releasing a heavy sigh, Raman re-affixed his smile and stood from the booth. “Well, boys, at least we had our fun. You two might as well enjoy the table. Go ahead and stick around. And charge your drinks to my room. Nambudiri, 2703.”

“Hey, you don’t have to do that,” Anoush replied, but Raman dismissed him with a wave.

“I mean it, bro. Have fun tonight, okay? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. And remember what I said,” he called out, pointing back at Anoush as his wife tugged him away. “Nice meeting you, Louie!”

“See ya,” Louie mumbled. Next to him, Anoush shook his head and went in for the last sip of his martini. No fair - Louie’s buzz had faded before he left the casino. “What’s the matter now? Gonna smack me around some more?”

  “Do you get some sick pleasure from embarrassing people in general?” Anoush asked. “Or is it just me?”

“How the fuck did I embarass you?”

“I know you know what manners are, somewhere deep down.”

“I mean, obviously you don’t. You ditched me, let me wander around like a jerkoff looking for you.”

“Is that seriously why you came in here with a chip on your shoulder? You ditched me first! You left me at the craps table to creep on that woman.”

“Creep? We were talking. It’s called havin’ a conversation. I know you got no clue how to do that with women, but--”

“Oh, fuck off--”

“Ready for another round?” Both Anoush and Louie jumped at the voice of the server. She hardly looked old enough to drink herself, and her wide eyes told them that she’d heard more than enough of their spat. Once they’d sheepishly ordered their cocktails, she practically sprinted away. Louie slumped down in the booth, fake leather squeaking beneath him. Anoush stabbed the last olive in his glass repeatedly with a toothpick, and bits of pimento spilled out of each tiny hole.

“What’d he say?” Louie asked after a prolonged, uneasy silence.

“What?”

“Raman. He told you to remember what he said.” After a beat, Louie rushed to add “I mean, you don’t gotta tell me. If it’s private.”

“No, no,” Anoush said. “It was nothing. We were just talking about how shitty I am at networking. He said I shouldn’t take myself too seriously.”

Louie wanted to laugh. It sounded exactly like advice that someone who didn’t know Anoush from Adam would give. But he’d promised to show Anoush a good night on the town, only to royally screw it up almost immediately with his own selfishness. The teasing could wait for another time.

“Sorry I had chips on my shoulder, or whatever.”

“No, I get it. I should’ve answered you sooner and I got sidetracked.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you were having fun. I can’t be mad at that.” Louie saw Anoush’s smile, his real smile. “What made you leave in the first place?”

“I had to pee. They kept giving me vodka crans.”

“I knew it.”

“Raman came in while I was washing my hands and invited me over here. Did you get that girl’s number?”

“Nah. Didn’t ask.”

Anoush didn’t have a response to that. Not that Louie needed one. He took his phone out of his pocket, along with something else. A small resealable foil pouch, decorated with moons and stars and comets that fluoresced under the club lights. He pointed to an app on his phone, trying to tell Louie something, but the hook to another classic techno track temporarily drowned him out. Louie appreciated that the DJ was sticking with his theme.

“What’s that?” He leaned in close, and Anoush did too.

“I said, open this app. It should already be on your phone.”

Louie took out his phone, and it didn’t take long to find the icon with the green circle that looked like a radar, identical to the one on Anoush’s screen. “Okay, now what?”

“Here.” Anoush reached across Louie to tap his screen. The cold steel of his wristwatch brushed against Louie’s exposed wrist. Louie didn’t know if he was smelling Anoush’s cologne, shampoo, or hair gel. They all melded together. “Now hit that, and that. Okay, send the request. And I’ll accept it on mine.” He was directing Louie, but carrying out all the steps himself. ‘There.”

“What’d you just do?”

“I shared my location, and you’re sharing yours with me. See?” Anoush held up his phone alongside Louie’s. A circle popped up on Louie’s screen, in the middle of a map of the Strip - a tiny picture of Anoush, the picture Louie had taken at Daniel and Amanda’s Fourth of July barbecue three or four years back, wearing an American flag t-shirt and chugging cheap light beer on a dare. A green pulse emanated from the circle. On Anoush’s phone the icon showed Louie fast asleep at his desk, leaning back precariously with his mouth agape.

“Now who’s a creep?” Louie joked. “Keepin’ tabs on me?”

“It’s so you don’t lose me again,” Anoush said. “Or vice versa.”

Louie caught his eye. Caught him staring, more like. From his slumped-down vantage, Anoush was slightly above him. Louie expected him to look away--Anoush wasn’t a fan of eye contact, avoiding it even with customers when he could without seeming rude--but he didn’t.

“Not a bad idea,” Louie replied. He craned his neck to get closer to Anoush’s ear, just to make sure he could hear as the music swelled. “I don’t think I’m goin’ anywhere else, though. Like he said, might as well chill here and drink for free, right?”

“Uh-huh. Fine by me.” Anoush was flushed now. The last martini must have been hitting his system. “Hey, you want one?” He picked up the small pouch again. This time, Louie noticed the little five-leafed symbol on the corner of the packaging.

“You for real?”

“It’s kind of overwhelming in here.” Anoush tore open the pouch and extracted a gummy shaped like an orange slice. “These help me relax, sort of.”

“You were holding out on me!” Louie didn’t know why he was so tickled by Anoush breaking out edibles at the club. It wasn’t surprising, not really. More endearing. “Come on, gimme.” He plucked the gummy from Anoush’s hand.

“Hold on. You don’t even know how much is in it.”

“I can read, asshole.” Louie pointed at the labeling on the package. Anoush rolled his eyes and took one out for himself.

“You make that extremely easy to forget, Louie.”

“Hey, if these help you relax, maybe you should start gettin’ stoned at work.”

“Wow. Inspired. I don’t know where you come up with such amazing ideas.”

Louie bumped his gummy against Anoush’s, trying to make it seem like a toast before popping it in his mouth. “Hey, mazel tov.”

“L’chaim,” Anoush corrected him with a giggle. Louie would keep saying stupid shit as long as Anoush kept laughing. Hell, he’d run through the casino naked if it made Anoush laugh.

“Yeah, that.”

Chewing his own gummy, Anoush wrinkled his nose when the previous track faded into a new one. “Ugh. These taste like shit. I don’t know why I keep buying this brand. Why are they playing all the shitty music from my senior prom?” Whenever he turned to look at Louie, his face was awash in flashing pink and blue and orange light. It would make more sense for him to scoot to the other side of the booth, or for Louie to switch sides. Oh well. 

“I dunno,” Louie lied. “Do they sell food in this place, or what? I’m starving.”

-----

“Lou.”

“What?’

“This isn’t a hot tub.”

“What?” 

The cork exploded out of the champagne bottle and ricocheted off the wet bar backsplash, popping Louie right in the chest. “Ow. Jesus. Ow. What the fuck.”

“What happened?” Anoush called out, and Louie could hear water sloshing in the bathroom. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good. Don’t get out. The fuck you mean it’s not a hot tub?”

“It’s just not.”

Sighing, Louie carried the open bottle and two glasses the short distance to the bathroom. “Then why’d they tell me there’s…” He trailed off, stopping two steps past the threshold. A deep herbal smell filled the air. thick and invigorating. The so-called hot tub in question took up the entire far end of the grand black and white bathroom, made of what looked like solid stone with a high, thick ledge. The tub was situated in front of a large window with a prime view of the Bellagio’s ostentatious fountains. Anoush was chest-deep in the water, wiping condensation off the window and squinting down below. His graying curls were soaked, dark and messy, steam rolling off his bare skin. Louie watched a trail of vapor rise all the way to the ceiling before Anoush fixed him with an odd look, prompting him to come back to Earth for a fleeting moment.

“Swear to God, the desk guy said there’s a Jacuzzi in the bathroom.”

“Hm.” Anoush picked up his phone off the tub ledge and started typing. “I mean, there’s no jets. There’s a switch that keeps the water heated, but that’s it.” 

“You’re probably not lookin’ in the right place.”

“Oh, right, sorry. I forgot to look in the tub.”

“You want champagne or not, smartass? And I know it’s sparkling wine, not real fuckin’ frou-frou French champagne, blah blah blah, save your breath.”

“Do I want a glass of heartburn before bed? Not particularly.”

“It was free. Cork’s already out, so unless you want a nasty flat mimosa in the morning before we go…I’m not wasting free booze.”

Anoush scoffed, but he took the flute Louie offered him and let him pour. Louie filled to the top, foam spilling over the rim and onto Anoush’s knuckles. “Wouldn’t want to waste this ultra-rare twelve-dollar bottle.”

“Hey, you don’t get to be a snob anymore tonight. You’re a grown man sitting in a bathtub in your swim trunks.”

They’d only left the club after Louie nearly passed out in the booth--not from drinking too much, but pure sleepiness. He really wasn’t the all-night tank he used to be (and that was for the best). But he couldn’t help himself. The air in the club was warm, the edible made time feel smooth and drippy, Anoush’s weight on his arm had gotten heavier and heavier as they talked. They both could have fallen asleep right there, despite the thundering beats and cacophonous slurred shouting all around. Louie was still nice and warm now, the drinks and the weed still spinning circles in his system, but against all odds he was wide awake. A second wind was hitting him thanks to a wet, half-naked Anoush and whatever smelly potion he’d dumped in the water. 

“When you going to the eye doctor?” he asked. Anoush was holding his phone far out in front of his face and squinting.

“Nothing’s wrong with my eyes.” Even he didn’t sound convinced. “I’m just high.”

“Nuh-uh. You look at your iPad all strange at work too-”

“All suites feature a spacious standing rainfall shower and a large Japanese soaking tub,” Anoush read aloud, changing the subject. “That’s what the website says. Nothing about a hot tub.”

“The fuck is a Japanese soaking tub?”

“This is a Japanese soaking tub.”

“What’s Japanese about it?”

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know.”

“Just sounds like some shit you’d know about.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why’d they tell me it’s a hot tub?”

“They probably didn’t. You weren’t listening carefully.”

Louie huffed and poured himself a glass of champagne, not that there was much to celebrate. “You don’t know that. You weren’t there.”

“No use pouting about it now.” Anoush returned his attention to the steamy window, peering at the fountain plaza below. “Is that Criss Angel down there?...No. Wait, he might be…No. I think every white guy in Vegas just looks like Criss Angel.”

“Why, are you window shopping?” Louie quipped. The words came out before his mouth knew what they were, what they could mean. He’d stumbled into a territory of jokes untold, a topic that he never dared to touch because it was a topic that made Anoush go stone silent and shrink into himself whenever it arose out in the world. Louie didn’t censor himself for anyone, but this was different. There was history, there was pain. He held his breath, waiting to placate the scandalized expression that was bound to materizalize on Anoush’s face. But then, Anoush laughed.

“Maybe I was,” he answered simply. “Are you going to stand there all night?”

“Uh.” Louie shifted from one foot to another. His bogged-down brain was trying to catch up with Anoush. “I mean, I’ll fuck off, if you wanna chill in here.”

“No, bonehead. Are you getting in?”

“Oh. Yeah, right.” He was planning on getting in, before he found out there were no jets in the fancy-schmancy Japanese tub. Come to think of it, it didn’t really matter. When they’d gotten into the elevator, Anoush had proposed that Louie join him in the hot tub. Louie said “sure” without a second thought. No caveats. Jets or no jets. Whatever that meant about Louie, he didn’t care to consider. “Yeah, hold your horses, I’m gettin’ in.”

“Just turn the big light off before you do. My head hurts.”

Louie elbowed the light switch, then handed his champagne flute and the bottle to Anoush, who set them by the window. When he swung his leg over the cold ledge, the water was hotter than he expected, but he allowed his leg to plunge to the bottom anyway and powered through the mild prickly burn. Anoush was checking his phone, a completely ridiculous thing to do sitting in several feet of water. But once Louie was submerged past his belly button and turned to face him, he caught Anoush quickly looking back down at the screen. The space was smaller than it looked when Anoush occupied it alone. Louie took care to tuck himself against the edge to give him space.

“Sorry your head’s bothering you.”

Anoush was slightly obscured by steam in the dim, milky glow of light pollution that came through the window. “I’ll be fine. I chugged a big glass of water with Advil, that usually wards it off. Though I’m sure my liver won’t appreciate it.”

Louie sank deeper, nearly up to his chest, breaking through the thin sudsy layer created by whatever concoction Anoush added to the water. He slipped to the far edge, rubbing another portal in the fogged window just in time to see luminous water jets spraying straight upward in a fanning arc from the vast pool below, rocketing higher and higher. “Whoa. Shit.”

“I know,” Anoush said quietly. “It seems more impressive from this view than it does from the ground.”

“You almost sound like you like Vegas or somethin,” Louie teased.

Anoush scoffed. “I never said I hated Vegas. There’s plenty to like about it.”

“You said it’s a monument to American arrogance.”

“I’m American, aren’t I?”

“And you’re definitely arrogant.”

“Whatever.”

The fountain jets bloomed and undulated in bright green, fading to teal. Louie heard gentle splashing, and then Anoush was at the window beside him. He set down his half-empty flute next to Louie’s.

“It’s not so bad,” he murmured. “At night.”

Surveying the adult playground below, Louie sighed. “Man, I’m sorry tonight ended up being so lame.”

Anoush hunched over in the deep water. Louie glanced over and witnessed the collapse of his relaxed smile into ruin.

“It did?”

“Uh.” Immediately, Louie wanted to kick himself in the ass. “I just meant, y’know, I coulda done a better job planning out the night. Somethin’ more entertaining. And I shoulda stuck by you.”

“Oh.” The shadow didn’t quite lift from Anoush’s browline. “Well, I thought we had a great time.”

“Really?”

“Better than the last two nights, for sure. I like it when we can just talk.”

Louie smiled. “We can do that just as easy at work.”

“Exactly,” Anoush said.

Louie hummed, but for once he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t very well say he would’ve rather spent his night yawning at some residency show, or blowing his self-allotted fifteen hundred bucks on blackjack, or pigging out at a buffet, because none of that would have been remotely close to the truth. He had partied through a thousand nights and stayed awake through five hundred sunrises, so he knew he wasn’t missing much. Spending a peaceful and lazy night with Anoush, who laughed at his dumbest jokes and dutifully guarded him from looking like a complete moron in public and listened to his stories like he actually cared about their endings…

It was something new. Something Louie felt good about.

Anoush tapped the champagne bottle, and his short nails made faint ding-ding-dings on the thick glass. Louie heard him inhale deeply, in time with the fountain show swelling to its peak. “If I, like, wasted your time-”

“Don’t even start,” said Louie, making an effort to stay quiet. Anoush was kind of like a skittish cat around him sometimes. A sudden noise or a change in the air might derail the conversation altogether. 

“Okay, jeez. I was just gonna say, I know you wanted to try and meet someone while you were here.”

The water felt warmer all of a sudden. Maybe the heating feature Anoush mentioned had kicked on.

“Eh. It woulda been fun, but whatever.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t get her number,” Anoush pressed. “At the casino.”

Louie forgot all about the fountain, and about the glittering Eiffel Tower across the way. He faced Anoush and noticed how the ends of his hair lightened as it began to dry, noticed the droplets of water caught on his eyelashes. “Didn’t like her.”

“Okay.”

“You sound kinda jealous.” It was a joke. In theory.

“More jealous than you with Raman?”

Louie swallowed. “He sucks.”

“All the same.”

“Why would I be jealous of that fucker?”

Louie didn't remember where his body ended and the water began until Anoush touched him. His wet hand grazed Louie’s wrist under the water, making a smooth slide up his arm and resting on his bicep.

“Because you’re worse at recognizing when someone’s interested than I am,” Anoush said.

The accusation wasn’t fair. Louie recognized every stolen glance, and every note of fondness in Anoush’s voice that bled through the disdain. Whether or not he believed it was another story, up until Anoush rose out of the depths high enough to kiss him. Louie’s eyes were open. Beyond the resort walls in the chilly desert midnight, the Bellagio fountains erupted four hundred feet in the air. Anoush, warmed through by the bath, surged against Louie, chest against chest, hotter and wetter than any one person should be, and only then could Louie accept what was finally happening and close his eyes.

This could’ve happened any old time. It didn’t need to happen here.

The scent of the bathwater clung to Anoush and slowly transferred to Louie. Anoush was soft all over.

“If this isn’t okay,” he said, but Louie returned the kiss and cut him off.

“S’okay, Anoush.”

Anoush inhaled through his nose. Stared at Louie with those burnished nearly-maroon eyes. Louie’s stomach twisted.

His arms criss-crossed behind Louie’s neck.

Despite all of the fuss around the tub, they didn’t stay in the water much longer. Backed against the frigid stone wall and shivering, Anoush took hold of Louie’s wandering hand before it dipped below the water. He got out first, grabbed two fresh towels off the warming rack, and dripped a path to the door.

“Come on.”

“Uh-huh,” Louie said in a daze. It was hard to watch Anoush walk away when he’d just been kissing his neck. He unplugged the drain and almost slipped in his haste to follow with his own towel.

Anoush was blotting his hair with one of the towels when Louie rounded the corner into the bedroom, leaving it fluffy and a bit disheveled. His swim shorts were gone. Louie dropped his trunks on the tile before stepping onto hardwood. The distance to where Anoush stood by the side of the bed was short, but it took too long to get there, like his legs were wading through concrete and he had to fight to pull his body back into Anoush’s embrace. Out of breath, struck dumb by the sight of him, Louie kissed him once more and felt utterly brainless.

He was stupider still once Anoush was underneath him, their lack of care in drying off making the sheets slightly damp. This bed had been more than big enough for the two of them the entire time. They easily could have shared without ever once touching each other. Louie, wide awake, was choosing to touch him. The blackout curtain was open wide, and rosy sparkling light from the skyline dappled through the sheer drapes, accentuating the dusky flush that crept down Anoush’s neck and vanished into a canopy of chest hair.

Anoush had freckles and moles that suggested a roundabout path for Louie to follow, meandering downward and making him squirm along the way. The transition from plush duvet to the stiff, prickly hotel rug under his knees was unforgiving, but easy to ignore once he focused. Anoush’s thighs twitched on either side of his head, muffling all sound except the sounds Anoush was trying his hardest to suppress. Louie thought it was unfair for Anoush to deprive him of something so good. He coaxed out what he felt he deserved to hear by taking him deeper, blindly reaching for the hand gripping the sheets for dear life and planting it firmly on his head.

Whatever shyness Anoush harbored about the noises he made, it didn’t extend to words. He was never afraid to tell Louie what he needed at work, and he wasn’t afraid now. No qualms with pulling Louie’s hair, either, which thrilled him to no end. The disappointment he felt when Anoush whined for him to stop was short-lived--he was rewarded with a comfortable seat on the bed and Anoush in his lap. The friction and heat of Anoush’s grip melted him from within. Time slowed to a crawl. Louie’s airways burned whenever he thought about speaking. His voice would break the spell. Anoush’s shaky and windswept voice was the spell. Each and every lower, slow down, wait, like that, more, fuck Louie don’t stop was re-invigorating, bursting over his head and slipping down his spine. Anoush’s impossibly straight back arched into Louie when he turned his wrist just right, and Louie’s heart plummeted into his gut because he’d only just remembered that this had to end, that he couldn’t stay in blissful stasis with Anoush’s stunning body bearing down on him. A brief image flashed of himself walking into work on Tuesday, but that was another Louie. That was none of his business.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, and Anoush couldn’t take it anymore, Louie whispered everything he needed Anoush to know against his throat and half-hoped he couldn’t hear.

-----

They had no time to be awkward in the morning. Louie was surprised to see he was awake before Anoush, only to find himself in the unenviable position of having to wake him and break the news that their 9am flight was probably landing in LA that very minute. Shaking Anoush out of his stupor when he was perfectly intertwined with the duvet and Louie’s own arms felt sick and wrong.

Anoush didn’t freak out, as Louie half-expected. There were plenty of flights going that way. He smiled, albeit weakly, at Louie’s joke about renting a car and road-tripping home. They threw on the first clothes they saw, Anoush half-drowning in a navy blue hoodie and Louie slipping on a jacket over his usual black tee. Neither of them had much to pack. In the lobby, Anoush stopped dead and remembered his medication bag, still in the bathroom drawer upstairs. Louie volunteered to go get it. If he had to sit in the echoing lobby by himself, he’d start thinking.

The airport was stuffy, and the air reeked of stale cigarettes. By the time they figured out new tickets and reached their gate, Anoush was doubling his dose of allergy meds.

“Need anything?” Louie hovered next to the hard plastic seat that Anoush sank into. They were across from a Chili’s and right next to a bank of slot machines. They were a newer type of machine, giant curved touch screens that stretched all the way to the drop ceiling. They were rainbow unicorn themed, blaring alarms and grating melodies across the terminal. Louie fucking hated them.

Anoush took several gulps of water out of the giant bottle he’d just purchased at a kiosk. “I’ll be fine.” He sounded tired. “Glad to be out of that line.”

“I almost cold-clocked the dude in front of us. Jesus Christ. How the fuck are we still confused about takin’ shoes off?”

“Please don’t do anything that will land you in federal custody until we get home.”

“No promises.”

“Will you sit? You're like a weird bodyguard.”

“Fuck, excuse me.” Louie left an open seat between them and placed his duffel bag on it. “Once we get boarded we’ll sit on the tarmac for a half hour, then another fuckin’ hour taxiing at LAX. And if I stand up to stretch, they’ll yell at me.”

“You need to figure out how to relax sometimes,” Anoush replied, “or you’ll stroke out before you hit fifty.”

“‘Course you and your short little legs wouldn’t understand.”

“Not going to dignify that with a response.”

“You just did. though.”

Shaking his head, Anoush dug through his backpack to retrieve his e-reader. For some reason, it didn’t hit Louie until then. He watched Anoush in profile under harsh fluorescent light, eyes downcast with shadows underneath, mouthing words from the black-and-white screen as he swiped from one title to another. After the hot bath, after they’d fallen asleep, his hair had dried frizzy and uncontrolled. It remained so now, as the only physical evidence that Louie’s memories of the night were real. 

Before losing consciousness with Anoush snoring on his chest, Louie prayed. Not something he did much. Didn’t know what he was praying to. He prayed that when he woke up, he’d be satisfied. That the hot, sickly sensation that nagged and fermented in his chest when he saw Anoush would fade, his curiosity fulfilled. 

No one was listening. Anoush was more beautiful than ever.

“You had a good time?” he blurted. Anoush flinched at the question, attention wrenched away from his book.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. It was as good as a work trip can be.”

Louie hated that Anoush was looking at him expectantly. He’d anticipated that Louie would bring it up. Talking about it seemed pointless, and Louie forged on anyway.

“Yeah. I had a great time with you.”

Anoush cleared his throat. Color was dusting his cheeks. “I did too. It was really nice.”

“Okay. Yeah, good. That’s good.” Louie was trying not to think about the girl he’d asked to the Halloween dance in eighth grade who laughed in his face. “I just, y’know, I was thinking--”

“That we shouldn’t,” Anoush finished. Incorrectly.

“...I was--”

“It’s fine, Louie. Seriously.” He smiled, as if to prove it. “I’ve done this before. Like you said, it was a great time.”

“Anoush. Hold up. I don’t want you to think--”

“You really don’t need to explain yourself. I knew what I was getting into. I know we’re not looking for the same things.” He gingerly patted Louie’s shoulder. “You’re trying to be a gentleman, let me down easy, and I appreciate it. But I know it’s just Vegas.”

“Uh-huh.”

I know we’re not looking for the same things.

Damn. Okay.

“You were great. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” Anoush peered at him, brow furrowed, like he was trying to locate Louie somewhere inside his own skull. “We’re good, right?”

Louie recovered. He settled the matter with a shrug and an easy grin. “We’re always good, man. Long as you’re good.”

“Of course.”

The following pause extended a beat too long.

“Hey, I forgot to grab food,” Anoush continued. “I think we’ve got time for breakfast before boarding. Should I grab you a sandwich or something?”

“Uh, sure. I’ll do whatever they got. Sausage egg and cheese on an English muffin is good.”

“I’m sure I can track that down.”

“I’m not so sure,” Louie said. “It’s you we’re talkin’ about.”

“Ha ha,” Anoush deadpanned, rolling his eyes. “You could always go get it yourself.”

“And pay for my own food? I don’t think so.”

Anoush was already up and leaving the gate area. “I’m going to Venmo request you,” he called over his shoulder.

Louie watched Anoush navigate the surging crowd until he disappeared behind a large group with matching hot pink shirts. COOPER-MURPHY DISNEYLAND EXPEDITION 2019, they all read. He watched about a hundred people pass him in either direction without noticing a single face. Each stranger seemed to speak a different language. Even folks holding a conversation sounded different from one another. If any spoke English, Louie didn’t catch a word.

He picked up his bag and shuffled over to the nearest slot machine. The cartoon rainbow unicorn sprouted wings and flew across the screen, leaving a cascading trail of gold coins and dollar signs in its wake. He took out his wallet and stared at the crisp fifties and hundreds peeking out of the billfold, then extracted a fifty dollar bill and fed it into the slot shaped like the unicorn’s mouth.

“GET READY TO WIN BIG!” the unicorn screamed.

Louie smacked the button with his open palm as hard as he could. 

It had nothing to do with where or when. Apparently, Anoush disagreed. But Louie knew he wasn't crazy.

[jaguarwindsor]

2025 Jaguar F-PACE: What's New and Exciting?

Providing users with the ideal combination of performance, practicality and luxury, the award-winning Jaguar F-PACE is an exceptional SUV well-known for its striking performance. The car focuses on family, and the latest F-PACE is about speed and performance. Comfort boosts its existence with added state-of-the-art technology that constantly keeps the driver updated for optimal driving experiences.

Exterior

The exterior of the 2025 Jaguar F-PACE has powerful proportions and an imposing silhouette. Check out the looming clamshell hood that runs along the vehicle's chiseled edges. The front adorns a distinctive grille, signature DRL, and LED headlights, all of which are enhanced to provide excellent visibility.

Interiors

The interior of the Jaguar F-PACE is uncluttered and bestows top-notch convenience to its users. The sliding panoramic roof allows natural light into the cabin whenever you wish. Besides, the Windsor leather Performance seats ensure optimal comfort along with ergonomics and ambient lighting. Commuters can experience a stress-free ride in a first-class environment.

Handling

Get real-time updates on the road that's ahead of you. Besides, you get optional Adaptive Dynamics, which automatically adjusts the gears, suspension and steering. Configurable Dynamics lets you take complete control of the vehicle and drive at your own pace and style.

AWD

A standard in the F-PACE, the All-Wheel-Drive lets you drive on the road with absolute confidence. The AdSR or Adaptive Surface Response helps you in complex and unpredictable conditions ensuring optimum traction while consistently analyzing the viability of the road ahead of you.

Technology

One of the most irresistible features of the Jaguar Luxury car, the F-PACE, encompasses technology that facilitates enhanced driving. The Head-up Display and the 12.3-inch Interactive Driver Display (IDD) bring all information to your eye's level for your journey. You can stay seamlessly connected and get all the data you need at your fingertips with the Pivi Pro system integrated into the 11.4-inch curved Touchscreen equipped with Alexa Voice Control. Finally, with Wireless Charging, you can power up the device of your choice.

FAQs

What are the key changes and updates for the 2025 Jaguar F-PACE model year?

Some key updates made are the Black Exterior Pack, Privacy Glass, Gloss Black roof rails, AHBA or Auto High Beam Assist, and more.

What are the different trim levels available for the 2025 Jaguar F-PACE in Canada?

The Jaguar F-PACE wields at least three trim levels -- SVR 575 Edition, P250 R-Dynamic S, and P400 R-Dynamic S. Visit the Jaguar of Windsor showroom to learn more.

Can you identify some of the technology features included in the 2025 Jaguar F-PACE?

The vehicle allows you to set your cruising speed and automatically adapts to slow traffic. It also comes with recalibrated handling and the Dynamic Launch, among other features.

How does the 2025 Jaguar F-PACE handle Canadian winter driving conditions?

The Jaguar F-PACE is an all-wheel drive that provides advanced traction control and excellent grip, making it one of the best vehicles for Canadian winter conditions.

Contact Us

Get the Jaguar F-PACE for sale at our showroom. Walk into the best Jaguar dealership near me to get an overview of the Jaguar F-PACE price as you get to take it for a test drive.

[sngl-led-auto-lights]

Why do some car manufacturers make it extremely difficult to change a headlight bulb, sometimes requiring a trip to the dealership?

Why Some Car Manufacturers Make Headlight Bulb Replacement Difficult Replacing headlight bulbs in modern vehicles can feel like navigating an engineering maze, often requiring specialized tools or dealership intervention. This complexity stems from design priorities, regulatory compliance, and advanced technology integration. Below are the key reasons and their implications:

Advanced Lighting Systems

Modern vehicles increasingly use adaptive headlights (e.g., auto-leveling, cornering beams) and integrated LED arrays or laser modules instead of traditional bulbs. These systems are tightly controlled by onboard computers and sensors. For example: Adaptive Headlights: Adjust brightness and direction based on steering input or road conditions. Even minor misalignment can disrupt the entire system, requiring recalibration with proprietary software.

Integrated LED/Laser Modules: Often soldered into sealed assemblies rather than using replaceable bulbs. Replacing them may necessitate swapping the entire headlight unit.

Engineering and Aesthetic Trade-offs

Manufacturers prioritize sleek, aerodynamic designs and compact packaging, which often result in tightly packed engine bays and headlight housings: Space Constraints: Headlights may be fused with grilles, fenders, or bumper components. Accessing the bulb might require removing the wheel well liner, battery, or air filter housing.

Proprietary Fasteners: Custom clips or screws demand specialized tools, discouraging DIY repairs.

Regulatory Compliance and Safety Standards

Strict homologation rules (e.g., SAE, ECE) mandate precise beam patterns, brightness, and alignment. To ensure compliance: Tamper-Proof Designs: Manufacturers discourage aftermarket modifications by sealing systems or using non-standard components. Non-OEM parts risk failing inspections or causing glare hazards.

Self-Leveling Requirements: Adaptive headlights must maintain proper alignment with the road, which can only be reset via dealership diagnostics.

Profit and Service Model

Dealerships and certified repair shops benefit from locked-in servicing: Software Dependencies: Adaptive systems require proprietary diagnostic tools (e.g., OEM scanners) to reset error codes or recalibrate sensors.

Warranty Control: Manufacturers may void warranties if non-certified technicians attempt repairs, steering owners to dealerships.

Safety and Durability Considerations

Sealed Assemblies: Protect sensitive electronics from moisture and dust, ensuring longevity and UV resistance.

Electrical Complexity: Modern bulbs (e.g., HID, LED) require precise voltage regulation. Incorrect handling can damage the vehicle’s electrical system or reduce bulb lifespan.

Key Takeaways Factor Impact on DIY Replacement Advanced Tech Requires calibration tools and software Regulatory Compliance Tamper-resistant designs Aesthetic Design Tight packaging limits access Service Incentives Encourages dealership dependency

Advice for Owners: Consult Manuals: Some models allow bulb access via hidden panels.

Invest in Professional Help: For adaptive or laser systems, dealerships ensure compliance and safety.

Avoid Aftermarket Modifications: Non-homologated parts risk fines or accidents.

While frustrating, these design choices reflect a balance between innovation, safety, and market dynamics. For complex systems, dealerships remain the safest (if pricier) option.

[sugarandviolence]

surprise! new car

After they moved to the Valley, being carless became impossible. In Silverlake it was somewhat doable, walking the twenty minutes from Joe's or anywhere they needed, but their new place was so far from everything, commuting became impossible. Almost a month of that and Tyson caved and bought the first car he found at the local used car dealership: a bug green 2011 Ford Fiesta SES with dents on the side and one of the mirrors missing, but it was cheap. Less than $1,100 and it was theirs. Tyson would soon come to regret that decision as the piece of shit would break down more than his old car, which he almost began to miss in the light of this new dumbfuck. Every week it was something. One time, it got stuck on the highway and he ended up having to push it, with Sasha at the wheel, all the way to the nearest auto shop. That had been the deciding factor. He started up saving.

And save he did. He wasn't ultra smart about it, because their credit wasn't great. But he decided he'd fucking do it, with loans from here and there, their personal bank of friends instead of the actual bank. They deserved a good car. It wasn't a luxury in a place like Los Angeles. It was a necessity. A part of him, for all of a moment, felt bad for making such a big decision all on his own, without Sasha's input, but he wanted it to be a big surprise. If she didn't like it, he'd take it back to the shop and get another. That's how much he cared for her opinion and happiness and hell, half the reason he was doing it was for her. It was their car. But he believed he found the right one. Something about it had just felt right when he jumped in for a test drive.

He came early, a quarter to six, fifteen more minutes until Sasha could clock out — Allen, their manager, was strict as shit about these kinds of things. He parked and got out, and once he was inside he scanned the place for sign of his wife. She was manning the deli, and a big, wide grin settled on his features as soon as he saw her. He didn't make his way toward her though, since there were still customers. Just gave a little wave and then hung back by some other aisles.

"Oh, hey," he was greeted by Zack stocking up. "What's good, man?" Tyson smiled and nodded, "Nothin' much. Picking Sasha up." He and Zack were alike in many ways, down to the tattoos. In fact, newer coworkers asked if they were brothers sometimes. The only things that separated them was Zack being much younger and a not very tall 5 foot 8. Other than that though, it was uncanny. "You got your request for tomorrow off by the way. I'm filling in."

"What, for real? Sick." Tyson's face brightened, this was good news indeed. He had wanted the day off to do things with Sasha. It had been a minute since they'd both had one off. He hadn't been banking on getting it, but now he was extra happy. "Yeah," Zack replied. "I'm trading you for next Friday. Cuz you know, that's the day."

Tyson looked confused, but then quickly got it and nodded. "Oh yeah. That's sick. You gonna show her around LA? Show her the sign?" Every now and then, he would poke his head from out the aisle and look at Sasha, anxious for the minutes to tick down and make it six already.

[halimpark7]

"Go to car shop

I'm worried about beeping engine."

Says my mom.

After the first mechanic took out my transmission bolts and now the engine beeps like a 90s alarm clock Everytime I drive.

$2000 stolen by

Vics Auto Repair in Eagle Rock

Fixed kinda but not

By Cayes Echo Park

Who told me they

Didn't want to get

Involved.

"Get that idea out of your head,

This van will never make it to

New York"

Then I waited. Why go to the shop? My mom is cognitively impaired, and a lier. Go here, go there, do this. Knaw, knaw, knaw, muppeting her big emotions and anxiety. Negative word vomit into my body.

That's just my mom.

A few months later. My car wouldn't start.

I get towed to the shop. The engine finally stops. It's last rev towards revolution. A RV/van that my mother forced, wheels towards financial freedom. Hope. After an eviction.

"I'm not paying!!"

"Live on the side of the road!"

"Mom, you gave me a van with visible black mold, you said you wanted it after I was done. Why don't you just buy me a new RV that works. You already spend 35,000 on something that is going to cost you so much more money."

"You make me sick and tire!!!! (tired In her broken English).

I'm old!!

I don't care!!! That your problem!!!!!"

I struggle to stay calm, I had three tabs of acid maybe an hour previous.

My spirit guys, telling me I needed help

With my PTSD.

Stay calm.

Tears well in my eyes. What am I going to do?

Vanlife girl with eviction now the van really really won't start.

The impact of abuse, neglect, moving Everytime I had something good for myself.

Years of resentment, anger, bitterness.

Stress, memories, whiz through my mind.

How many situations did my parents put me through that I had to navigate by myself. That they abandoned me through. I'm the failure. Bc I didn't know how to raise myself while thinking my family loved me. God how stupid.

"You were so smart,..." Says my brothers best friend. The only one of my brother's friends that I didn't fuck, and who never judged me.

"What happened to you?"

Rage.

Towards a women who refused to admit her downs syndrome face or her lack of understanding that you have to do something for your kids.

Not just give them a bowl of slop once a day.

Overwork yourself to death, bc you have anxiety and you love money.

[Your kids can raise themselves. They're smart, they know English.

They can do things by themselves. Don't worry.

You need to sleep. You need to work.

You can give your stress to your oldest.

You work overnight. Whata can I do?]

You don't have to do anything but make money.

Other people had 2 adults at home. I had people asking me to read their paperwork, call the bank, help them with their lawsuit, read and summarize Jacob's school paperwork. Announcements. Raise their kid. The one she loved, the one he tolerated.

Things that parents did, not a daughter, for their parents.

-------

"Mom, this is non-negotiable. There is water leaking through the ceiling it's coming through the dome lights near the rearview mirror. The walls are soft and crumbling when it rains."

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

This entire conversation had in the back of the RV dealership/rv repair. Standing with my head against the wall. Like I was in time out in preschool. My back to the display rack, three rows stacked next to each other, a library book shelf of display, plastic toilets.

Like the practice toilet

My parents would leave me with

To go to school 3 hours away that I never saw.

and my mom to work full time

At my dad's cousin's

Family restaurant.

The plastic toilet

That I would use,

swinging my legs

Singing.

While my brother would pull out the the bucket insert

For the pee and poop.

And play with my poop between his baby fingers

swimming in my pee.

I was under 4. My brother a year and half under me.

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

My mom never wanted to give me anything..

I never understood it as an adult.

Whenever I had opportunities she always gave them away. Moved, praised my brother instead. She never went to any of my performances, except one where she sang over me from the audience. Something that burned my eyes with hate, during my performance.

She would talk lovey to other people's kids.

Would make them things. Huge baby blankets. Knit handmade.

Curtains, towel sets. Homemaker.

Things that people used and loved.

Wouldn't speak to me. Even on her days off. I wouldn't see her if I didn't sleep through my alarm, and miss the bus. Opposite scheduling.

While she would

sleep through

my screaming

that her husband was

whipping me.

Wire and plastic hangers

Fists, hands, kicks,

A golf club

My mother

Pinching my bare skin

The side of my thighs

And the back of my my arms

at church.

pulling me by my hair.

Hair brushes that were hers.

Pain. Neglect

A hairbrush.

I didn't have one.

My cousin left one at my house

Accidentally, and that's how I got my own hair brush

In the third grade.

When people don't care about you

Because they're abusive.

Stupid.

Neglectful.

impaired.

Neurodivergent.

Different.

You don't know what you don't have

What you need.

Just how to

Care about yourself.

You just make due

Scrimping by

with nothing.

Mooching off

Your rich friends.

"Training" your boyfriend

How to pay for things.

....

At least your not the worst story

Anybodies ever heard, right?

No broken bones.

You're alive

You're fine.

Get over it.

"It was a long time ago" Joon said

"Stop thinking about it"

Says my mom

Easy for her. I was the shield.

Umma doesn't know shes retarded.

That she hides behind

Everybody. Bc she's a coward.

Take my daughter.

I'm too scare. "You deserve, Hadima."

He doesn't think it's wrong to beat children.

God said discipline your children

And he did so with a smiling face.

The most joy I've ever seen

Was when he was

Humiliating me.

What a demon.

And now he's a decon, sings on stage at church

People respect him. He cries that he can't be their hero and give them money. While his daughter is starving.

"That's your life, your choice." Says my dad.

I only loved you when I was groping you.

I'm not paying. When I was on my way to a job interview, I ran out of gas. I was at the gas station. I asked this man for $5 and he said no. I'm sorry daughter, I don't have any money for you.

Now that my father has rental properties and a business. That's the story he told me when I was doing a slut job and wanted to get out. ... The stranger didn't give me $5 now you don't get food money, Slut.

My parents are both retarded.

But I think all people have something stupid somewhere.

-------

Even though I live in America

In and around Los Angeles

I often felt like I lived

in a third world country.

Not having running water

Outdoor toilets

Yellow well water

Because the water table was so low.

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

Last night I had to decide.

As it rains and the sky reflects my meloncholy.

Do I sleep next to the batteries that are coroding

The smell of rotten eggs

Hydrogen sulfide gas.

Or next to the bathroom overflowing with

Jugs of piss and shit.

Mixing with the smell of cat piss

From the owner previous.

Who cleaned the litter box in the

Shower/bathroom.

I chose to sleep next to the batteries.

My head next to my dog

Whose bed is on top of the wooden slate

Covering the marine batteries.

Rotten eggs, sulfter.

I woke up with swollen eyes,

A stuffy nose, and we both bathed

In baking soda.

I'm glad my dog didn't suffer

alone.

I'm often at odds with the spiritual text

And teachers I listen to.

Have a wonderous heart, bless the past

Love your enemies.

But I did that, it got me out of Iowa

Into Northern California

And with the most beautiful girl I've ever met

She was hot like a girl

Sexy like a boy

And she did nothing but fall apart

From the moment she lived with me.

Bc I did nothing but

Treat her like

My mother

Treated me.

That's how the story goes.

The breakdown of what could be

Beauty

Real love

At least

A thriving business.

All because I was

Too stupid

To make sense

Of anything in my life.

How to treat people

College

Making money

Without a mental breakdown

That my mother's square face

A Korean shitzu

Eats with her mouth open

Long loud farts

At the kitchen table

Her repeating

Anxious

Questions

Her "Hadima, Hadima, Hadima"

As she pulls on my

Nervous system

All signs

Cognitive impairment

And I didn't know.

Her cruelty hides it so well.

"stupidity is the same as evil if you judge by the results" Margaret Atwood.

Thank God for Holly.

Who figured it out and

Told me.

Because "go die"

"Live on the side of the road."

Is not a response of a mother.

Money, she hated me over.

I was so traumatized. Looking for a way to be safe.

resemblance of home.

Why Stupid, did you not know

That these people are your enemies

Run,

Stupid.

Study hard.

God

Something.

Face palm.

God, Stupid

are you

Retarded

too???

I had to raise myself

Fend off my dad

Run away from my brother

I'm not your mother.

Get off of me.

Stop grabbing me

Everybody.

Stop touching

My body.

So

I would

sneak out of the house

Instead of thinking

-Exit plan

-Find money, Slut

..I was 10 just trying to figure out

How to feel ok.

In the basement with some boy

Cus at least I was going

To fuck

Mess around

Feel good

Rub something hard and soft

Between my legs.

Feel something

That wasn't

Harassment

Stress

Anxiety

Fear.

And do something

That made me feel alive.

While my family

Was eating me

Stressing me out

Overly Relying

Hating me.

And I was too stupid

To run.

Cashap-halimpark7 venmo HaLim-Park PayPal hapark7

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

[netzeroenergy]

[barkingbarghest]

Blogging about the road trip at 6 am, under the cut bc it's long.

Days 3 and 4 were Fucking Doozies.

My reasonably well maintained 2015 Hyundai Elantra turned sour literally in the middle of Yellowstone National Park, engine light on and feeling not good through the pedals. Did you know that there's an auto repair shop at the Old Faithful geyser? It's basic of course but it's better than what we thought we had available, which was a fistful of jack shit!

Very very very nice mechanics there did some testing and long story short the problem was definitely present but neither simple nor immediately identifiable. Everyone agreed: the car was probably not safe to be driven out of the park and then another fifty miles out to our hotel.

We got a tow out of the park, and then another tow to our hotel, and don't ask me what that cost because it cost a lot. I'm working with my insurance to get reimbursement, but I refuse to count on that until the money is back in hand.

Morning of the next day, we called almost every auto repair place in town and they're all booked out 3-6 weeks, so obviously we can't do anything there. We get a /third/ long tow to the next city big enough to have a Hyundai dealership (which my insurance almost certainly will not reimburse) where they take a look.

I bite the bullet and buy a new car. Between the trade in value of my old car, plus compensation for the tow into town, they give me $2750 straight off the sticker price, and truly the guys there were all very honest. Shout out to the one guy who hated his job so much and was not shy about unloading about it to a couple of random strangers from out of town! Good luck buddy!

Today will be day 5 and we will be on the road with the new car. No further comment so as to not tempt fate, except:

Guys, everyone we've met on this trip has been so incredibly kind. The motel guests I've talked with, the hotel staff, all five or six of the mechanics we've stopped at along the way, the park staff, the tow truck drivers, the dealership folks. Truly I'm grateful to everyone I've spoken more than two words to along the road. This trip has been a practical lesson in the idea of individual, person to person, kindness and generosity, the kind that draws connections instead of boundaries and reaches out to be a neighbor.

It's 6:15 am and I'm sentimental, babeyyyyy!

[moonlight-at-dawn]

Managed to turn an L into a W today, fuck yeah

Kiddo and I went out to run some errands. On the drive, I had to slam on my brakes to avoid hitting someone. Sounds more dramatic than it was. Well, annoyingly and oddly, a bunch of lights came on. These are all things this car has decided to light up for stupid reasons in the past, so I thought nothing of it. Yeah yeah, ABS, slip, and VDC, I know, whatever. The car is driving normal, so whatever.

An important note: The car is a push start, so you press down the brake pedal then hit a button, and if the key is in the vehicle, it turns on the engine. If you don't press the brake, it enters accessory mode, running on battery.

So, we run into store, they don't even have the thing kiddo wanted, boo. We sit in car. Engine doesn't start, but it enters accessory mode. I try again, watching the display, and it says I need to press the brake to start. But I am. I try again. I try again practically standing on the brake pedal.

I call my husband out of frustration, opening with "Heeeeyyyy, do we still have AAA?" (We do not u_u)

We go over our options, then hang up. I call the dealership we get our services at, and they don't have any suggestions except 'bring it in' of course. I sigh and tell my husband, and we decide to call a tow, because, well, not getting anywhere. Husband borrows Mika's car to come get us.

After I get off phone with tow, getting quoted for $360 for a 40mi tow 😬, I turn to my kid. "I just noticed there's an O'Reillys auto parts right there. Let's go see if they have any suggestions."

They did!

First guy I talk to isn't familiar with push starts, but he asks the next guy who immediately names the part he thinks it is. First guy starts looking up the part for me (brake light switch, which doubles as the electrical impulse for starting the engine), and I ask how hard it is to replace. A 3rd guy tells us it should be easy enough that even my kid can do it.

Well, kiddo was intrigued! We get our $20 part back to the car and I launch a video on the replacement. Not a single tool required, nice. Don't gotta open up the hood or anything, the switch is just above the brake pedal.

I pulled the wire housing off the switch because it took too much finger strength for kiddo. Honestly, was tough for me, too. Then kiddo removed the switch and did most of the replacement of the new one! Husband showed while we were doing the final bit, he went in with his fresh hands and finished it off.

The car started!!!!!

I canceled my tow, then went into the O'Reillys to thank everyone there and let them know it worked, then kiddo and I gave up on most of our outing, got A Little Treat, then went home.

As we left from thanking the guys, I turned to kiddo

"Did fixing the car give you confidence?"

"Actually, yeah! I feel pretty good about that!"

So, hell yeah!!

Then he cooked himself some ramen for dinner!! He's feeling so good and independent after fixing the car x3

And so that's why I consider it an overall Win ☺️ What started as (financially) Scary turned into a $20 confidence boost for kiddo.

[armedjoy]

another example of german auto idiocy: some audis dont have dedicated high beam headlights, instead relying on a stepper motor to shift the regular headlights into a high beam FOV. when this motor breaks, you cannot engage high beams - rather than have a separate bulb or a dual filament like everyone else, you need an entirely new headlamp assembly, which is over a grand from the dealership and usually requires removing the entire front clip to replace. when my saturn sl commuter or gm truck has an issue with the high beam lights, i pull into an auto part store, spend 20 clams, and replace it in the parking lot in 5 minutes without tools.

overengineered garbage, but the owners let the automakers piss on them and smile as they call it a spring rain

[eastwaytoyota]

2025 Toyota bZ4X Review

Toyota’s all-electric SUV continues its push in the Canadian market with the 2025 Toyota bZ4X, combining eco-friendly performance, reliable safety, and modern design. In this comprehensive review, we’ll explore the Toyota bZ4X price, key specs, availability, and more, based solely on Toyota Canada’s official resources.

The bZ4X features a modern cabin centred around a 12.3-inch touchscreen and intuitive Toyota Multimedia interface, offering wireless Apple CarPlay® and Android Auto™ connectivity. Higher trims add heated leather seats, a steering wheel, and a power back door for convenience.

Sporty LED lighting and available 20″ wheels give the bZ4X a sleek presence. The Nightshade trim elevates aesthetics with black accents, two-tone paint and exclusive exterior details.

FWD LE: 150 kW (≈201 hp) powering the front wheels, delivering up to 406 km of range 

AWD models: Dual 80 kW motors (≈215 hp), 248 lb-ft, up to 367 km range; Q1 specs show ~338 hp on refreshed models 

Electric torque ensures smooth acceleration and a responsive driving experience.

Technology & Safety Features

Toyota Safety Sense 3.0: Includes Pre-Collision with Pedestrian Detection, Adaptive Cruise Control, Lane Departure Alert and more.

Limited trims add advanced driver assists: Traffic Jam Assist, Lane Change Assist, Front Cross-Traffic Alert. 

Charging Upgrades: Dual-voltage charging cable included, with faster DC charging capabilities and heat-pump battery preconditioning to reduce charge time.

Infotainment: Toyota's Multimedia system supports voice control, wireless smartphone integration, and long-term connected services

Final Thoughts

The Toyota bZ4X is a polished Toyota electric SUV offering strong range, modern safety, and electric driving confidence. Though not class-leading in spec, it provides a compelling package for Canadian buyers seeking a reliable Toyota electric car or Toyota EV. For inventory and tailored offers, contact your local Toyota dealership near me today. Contact Eastway Toyota and its professional team to get the best details.

Frequently Asked Questions

What powertrain options are available? You get a 201 hp FWD setup or a 215 hp AWD system with 248 lb-ft of torque. The refreshed version may deliver up to ~338 hp.

What is the electric range on the 2025 bZ4X? The FWD model delivers ~406 km, while AWD versions range around 367 km per full charge

Does it support fast charging? Yes, it supports CCS DC Fast Charging and can refill from 10–80% in roughly 30 minutes, thanks to improvements in charging speed.

Do I need to visit a Toyota dealership to get the 2025 bZ4X? Yes—visit a Toyota dealership near me. Visit us- 9375 Tecumseh Rd E Suite 1, Windsor, ON N8R 1A1