#Global-Gold-Trends

[larrydpage-blog]

50 Years of Gold Trends with Global Impact

The last 50 years have witnessed significant trends and transformations in the gold market, shaped by economic, geopolitical, and social factors. Gold, often considered a timeless store of value and a safe-haven asset, has experienced fluctuations in demand, prices, and usage over this period. Exploring the key trends in the gold market from the early 1970s to the present provides valuable insights into the metal's enduring relevance and its evolving role in the global economy.

1. The End of the Gold Standard (1971):

One of the most pivotal moments in the gold market occurred in 1971 when President Richard Nixon announced the end of the gold standard. Prior to this, the U.S. dollar was pegged to a specific quantity of gold, and other currencies were pegged to the dollar. The abandonment of the gold standard marked a shift towards a fiat currency system, allowing currencies to float freely. This move increased the volatility of currency values and contributed to a new era for gold as an investment and hedge against economic uncertainty.

2. Gold as a Safe-Haven Asset (1970s-1980s):

The 1970s and early 1980s witnessed a surge in gold prices driven by economic turmoil, high inflation, and geopolitical tensions. Investors sought the safety of gold during periods of uncertainty, leading to a significant increase in demand. The peak of this trend occurred in 1980 when gold prices reached an all-time high of around $850 per ounce.

3. Volatility and the 1980s-1990s Consolidation:

Following the peak in 1980, gold prices experienced a prolonged period of consolidation and decline throughout the 1980s and early 1990s. Economic stability, declining inflation, and rising interest rates contributed to reduced demand for gold as a safe-haven asset. Prices remained relatively subdued during this period.

4. The Asian Financial Crisis (Late 1990s):

The late 1990s saw a resurgence in gold demand, particularly during the Asian financial crisis of 1997. Economic uncertainties in Asia prompted investors to turn to gold as a safe-haven asset, leading to a moderate increase in prices.

5. The Global Financial Crisis (2008):

The global financial crisis of 2008 marked another significant turning point for gold. As financial markets crumbled and confidence in traditional assets waned, gold once again emerged as a safe-haven asset. Investors sought refuge in gold, driving prices to new highs. In 2011, gold prices reached a historic peak, exceeding $1,900 per ounce.

6. Post-Crisis Stability and Moderation (2011-2019):

Following the peak in 2011, gold prices experienced a period of moderation and stability. Economic recovery, reduced fears of a global recession, and increased confidence in traditional financial assets contributed to a decline in gold prices. During this period, gold remained an essential component of diversified investment portfolios but without the extreme volatility witnessed in previous decades.

7. Resurgence in the 2020s:

The early 2020s brought a renewed interest in gold as the world grappled with the COVID-19 pandemic. Economic uncertainties, unprecedented fiscal and monetary measures, and concerns about inflation reignited demand for gold. In 2020, gold prices surged, reaching levels not seen since 2011.

8. Shifts in Central Bank Reserves:

Over the last 50 years, central banks have played a crucial role in gold trends. While some periods witnessed central banks selling gold to diversify reserves, recent years have seen a reversal of this trend. Central banks, particularly in emerging economies, have been accumulating gold as a strategic reserve asset, contributing to increased demand.

9. Technological Innovations in Gold Trading:

Advancements in technology have transformed the way gold is traded. The rise of electronic trading platforms and the development of financial products, such as gold exchange-traded funds (ETFs), have made gold more accessible to a broader range of investors.

10. Environmental and Social Concerns:

In recent years, there has been a growing emphasis on responsible and sustainable mining practices in the gold industry. Environmental and social considerations, such as the impact of mining on local communities and ecosystems, have become important factors for both investors and consumers.

The last 50 years have been characterized by dynamic shifts in the gold market, reflecting changes in economic conditions, geopolitical landscapes, and investor preferences. Gold has consistently demonstrated its resilience as a safe-haven asset, with periods of volatility and stability. As the global economy continues to evolve, gold is likely to remain a key player in investment portfolios and a symbol of enduring value. Understanding the historical trends provides a valuable context for anticipating future developments in the ever-evolving world of gold. Follow Daily Gold rates in Hyderabad, Vijayawada, Visakhapatnam, Chennai, Delhi & Mumbai on The Hans India.

[wealthwise93]

How World Events Influence Stocks: A Guide for Investors

How World Events Influence Stocks. Read more -> www.wealth-wise.blog World events, Stocks, Stock market, Economic calendar, Financial portals, News sources, Investment guide, Global happenings, Interest rate decisions, Inflation data, Corporate earnings

To understand how world events impact specific stocks, there are various approaches and tools that can help you better grasp the connections between global happenings and stock prices: 1. News Sources and Financial Portals Current news about politics, economics, and natural disasters often have immediate effects on financial markets. Here are some platforms that keep you informed about such…

[nikkiadderley88]

Explore the impact of China's interest rate cut on global gold prices. Understand market dynamics and potential effects on your investments.

[mining-market]

Environmental Sustainability in the Gold Mining Industry

Introduction

Environmental sustainability has emerged as a paramount concern in the Gold Mining Market as companies seek to minimize their ecological footprint and address climate change. In this blog, we'll explore the various initiatives and strategies that gold mining companies are implementing to promote environmental stewardship and achieve sustainable operations.

Responsible Mining Practices

Gold mining companies are increasingly adopting responsible mining practices to minimize the environmental impact of their operations. This includes implementing measures to reduce air and water pollution, mitigate habitat destruction, and minimize land disturbance. Companies like AngloGold Ashanti and Kinross Gold have developed comprehensive environmental management plans that incorporate best practices in mine planning, waste management, and rehabilitation to minimize their environmental footprint.

Carbon Emissions Reduction

Reducing greenhouse gas emissions is a key priority for gold mining companies looking to mitigate climate change and comply with regulatory requirements. According to industry data, the gold mining sector emitted approximately 300 million metric tons of CO2 equivalent in 2020. Companies are implementing various measures to reduce their carbon footprint, including investing in energy-efficient equipment, transitioning to renewable energy sources, and implementing carbon offset initiatives. For example, Newmont Corporation has committed to reducing its greenhouse gas emissions by 30% by 2030 through initiatives such as energy efficiency improvements and renewable energy investments.

Biodiversity Conservation

Preserving biodiversity is essential for maintaining ecosystem health and resilience in gold mining regions. According to studies, gold mining activities have led to the degradation of biodiversity in several regions globally. Companies are implementing biodiversity conservation measures, such as habitat restoration, reforestation, and wildlife protection, to mitigate the impacts of mining on local ecosystems. Through partnerships with conservation organizations and indigenous communities, companies like Barrick Gold and Gold Fields are working to protect and restore biodiversity in areas affected by mining activities.

Water Management and Conservation

Water management is a critical aspect of sustainable gold mining, particularly in water-stressed regions. According to industry reports, the gold mining sector consumes significant amounts of water, with estimates suggesting that each ounce of gold produced requires approximately 3,000 to 6,000 gallons of water. Companies are implementing water conservation measures, such as recycling and reusing process water, implementing water-saving technologies, and promoting responsible water use practices among employees and local communities. By minimizing water consumption and reducing water pollution, companies can minimize their environmental impact and ensure the availability of clean water for communities and ecosystems.

Ecosystem Restoration and Rehabilitation

Restoring and rehabilitating mined land is essential for reclaiming disturbed landscapes and promoting ecological recovery. According to industry estimates, approximately 75% of the land disturbed by gold mining activities has not been rehabilitated. Companies are implementing ecosystem restoration and rehabilitation programs to rehabilitate mined land, restore natural habitats, and promote biodiversity conservation. Through initiatives such as land reclamation, revegetation, and soil stabilization, companies like Agnico Eagle Mines and Newmont Corporation are restoring ecosystems and promoting long-term environmental sustainability in mining-affected areas.

Conclusion

Environmental sustainability is a top priority for Gold Mining Companies seeking to minimize their environmental impact and promote responsible mining practices. Through initiatives such as responsible mining practices, carbon emissions reduction, biodiversity conservation, water management, and ecosystem restoration, companies are working to achieve sustainable operations and mitigate their environmental footprint. By embracing environmental stewardship and adopting innovative solutions, the gold mining industry can contribute to a more sustainable future for communities, ecosystems, and the planet as a whole.

[crop-protection-market]

Shining Perspectives of the Gold Mining Industry, Industry Growth and Outlook

Exploring the vast expanse of the Global Gold Mining Market requires a nuanced understanding of its dynamics, challenges, emerging trends, and the key players steering the industry. In this comprehensive dive, we unravel the intricacies of the Gold Mining Market, shedding light on its analysis, growth prospects, challenges, and emerging trends.

Gilded Perspectives: Analyzing the Global Gold Mining Market

The Global Gold Mining Market serves as a cornerstone in the mining industry, shaped by economic trends, geopolitical factors, and the relentless pursuit of the precious metal. Analyzing its multifaceted nature provides valuable insights for industry stakeholders and investors alike. Gold Mining Market Analysis reveals a robust landscape influenced by factors such as global economic stability and currency fluctuations. The Global Gold Mining Market witnesses consistent growth, driven by increased demand for gold in jewelry, technology, and as a safe-haven investment. The Gold Mining Market Size is poised to reach USD 150 billion by 2025, showcasing an annual growth rate of 8%.

The Golden Growth Trajectory: Unraveling Market Size and Share

Understanding the size and share dynamics of the Gold Mining Market is pivotal for investors seeking profitable ventures and industry players navigating competitive landscapes. The Gold Mining Market Share is distributed among key players, with established mining conglomerates holding a dominant position. The Gold Mining Market Size is buoyed by the emergence of new mining operations and technological advancements. Major players like Company X and Company Y collectively command a 30% share of the Global Gold Mining Market.

Gold Mining Market Trends

Navigating the trends shaping the Gold Mining Market unveils opportunities for industry participants and underscores the need for adaptability in a dynamic environment. Evolving consumer preferences and sustainable mining practices emerge as prominent Gold Mining Market Trends. Technological integration, including AI and data analytics, is revolutionizing operational efficiency in the Gold Mining Industry. Investments in sustainable mining technologies have witnessed a 20% annual increase, indicative of the industry's commitment to responsible practices.

Gold Mining Market Hurdles

The path to prosperity in the Gold Mining Market is not without challenges. Identifying and mitigating these challenges is imperative for sustained growth. Gold Mining Market Challenges include regulatory complexities, environmental concerns, and fluctuations in gold prices. Adapting to stringent environmental regulations and community engagement pose ongoing challenges in the Gold Mining Industry. Regulatory compliance costs have surged by 18% annually for Gold Mining companies globally.

Emerging Trends: The Shifting Sands of the Gold Mining Market

Exploring the horizon of emerging trends in the Gold Mining Market unveils potential avenues for innovation and growth. Gold Mining Market Emerging Trends encompass the integration of blockchain technology for transparent supply chain management. Resurgence in artisanal and small-scale mining practices emerges as a noteworthy trend in the Global Gold Mining Market. Artisanal and small-scale mining operations contribute to 15% of the total gold production globally.

A Glimpse of Gold Mining in India: Opportunities and Challenges

Delving into the nuances of Gold Mining in India adds a regional perspective to the global narrative. Gold Mining Market in India is witnessing increased exploration activities and government initiatives to boost domestic production. Challenges in land acquisition, regulatory hurdles, and community engagement are critical aspects of the Gold Mining Landscape in India. India's gold consumption is projected to grow at a rate of 7% annually, signaling robust demand.

Conclusion: Navigating the Golden Landscape

In conclusion, the Global Gold Mining Market stands as a testament to the intricate interplay of economic, environmental, and geopolitical factors. Analyzing its vast landscape provides stakeholders with the tools to navigate challenges, capitalize on emerging trends, and contribute to the sustainable growth of the industry.

[jaisaxenaa]

Why Investing in Gold Makes Sense

Embark on a journey through the ages with gold, an enduring symbol of wealth and cultural significance. Investing in gold provides stability as a secure alternative to stocks and a hedge against inflation. Its historical prominence, from Pharaohs to ancient Indian literature, underpins its enduring value. Economic experts anticipate upward trends in gold prices, suggesting silver for portfolio diversification. Beyond investment, gold influences global economics, sustaining employment in mining and jewelry craftsmanship. In India, gold symbolizes prosperity in cultural and religious ceremonies. For those in Delhi, www.sonadopaiselo.net/ offers transparent processes and competitive rates, turning golden dreams into tangible investments. Gold is more than a metal; it's an investment, a safety net, and a cultural legacy — a testament to wealth, resilience, and timeless allure.

Read More:- https://www.sonadopaiselo.net/why-investing-in-gold-makes-sense.php

[cutieeva]

The Beautiful Lie

Female reader

Warnings : Manipulation. Love bombing. Self harm. Sexual Assault.

⌜ The art and the love interest (male character) belongs to the talented artist @meo-eiru and the story is inspiringly written and dedicated to @meo-eiru and the readers ! Hope you enjoy the plot that belongs to me but also helped by @meo-eiru a lot ⌟

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

(Y/N) rarely has time to offer to love, dating and such things because first : her taste in men are bad and second: she is a extremely busy person to balance her work life and personal life seperated until the most beautiful man she ever saw came surprising her with love. Or is it ?

"(Y/N), could you go to the Cutieeva mall to check out the new product's sales ?" Her female senior asked sitting from her desk.

"Of course, mam. I will be in a minute". (Y/N) agreed, saving all of her working documents before taking her handbag and left with car keys. Aurora Bloom, the brand of the cosmetic company she works, it is for now one of the top three companies to be trending in global and the best in Europe. While She works in HQ department of the company at a young age she didn't expect and living her life at ease at the rented apartment she lives quite close both to the company and her parents house who always here and there tell her to come home and when she does, it's a feast to eat of her home's comfy food and hearing thousand fictional stories from her writer father, well he wasn't a writer at first before he was a regular working manager at a company but he quit after (Y/N) outdone herself to such pristine department letting him decide to do what he likes until his last breath could be taken applying he wants no regrets to bear.

And he surprised the family by being quite a good writer himself, finding his own group of fandom invested in his writing and always support him while her mother is happy as she was being a housewife like always along being madly in love with her father who reciprocate the feelings to this day which (Y/N) finds utterly endearing yet she has no time to dwell about her love life when she has too much on her plate with her newfound career she wants to grow, as a independent woman and a person who lives her life to the fullest if overlook her empty love life.

"Yes mam, indeed people are enjoying the new shade of lipstick saying it's not only non-sticky but also long lasting highlighting their skin tones". The department store female manger explained pointing to the several women trying their new product 'the cherry blossom lipstick' either on their lips or on their palm.

(Y/N) nod, curling into a pleasant smile when her eyes caught a beautiful woman's back, wore pink shirt and tight skinny black pants with her musing long hair flowing with the breeze. "Must be pretty". She thought when she witness from her pocket a small object— foundation she recognized fell on the ground yet the woman walked away.

"She didn't noticed". On instinct almost she walked to the floor picking up the tiny box and call out. "Miss, your foundation..." She tailed off as she turn into the light, and captivated (Y/N) by the vision before her. His hair was a mesmerizing pink musing hue, with subtle waves that cascaded down his back like a rosy waterfall. The straight strands framed his face, accentuating his chiseled features, while his bangs fell effortlessly across his forehead, adding a touch of whimsical charm.

His eyes, a deep, burnished logoon color, like the warmth of a sunset on a tropical isle, sparkled with amusement as he caught her gaze. They seemed to dance with an inner light, drawing her in with an irresistible pull.

His lips, a vibrant red, curled into a gentle smile, revealing a hint of mischief, and (Y/N) felt her heart skip a beat. But it was the glint of gold at his ears that added the final touch to his captivating appearance - delicate, filigree earrings that seemed to shimmer in harmony with his eyes.

(Y/N) felt like she was drowning in the depths of his gaze, and before she knew it, the words tumbled out of her mouth in a whispered gasp "You're beautiful."

The man's smile widened, and a low, husky laugh rumbled from his throat, sending shivers down (Y/N)'s spine. "Thank you," he said, his voice dripping with warmth, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You are a funny one complimenting me beautiful after calling me a lady".

As he laughed, the golden earrings caught the light, adding a touch of whimsy to his already captivating presence. (Y/N) felt her cheeks flush, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from his face, her heart still racing from the impact of his beauty also sinking the fact she mistaken a man being a woman.

"I am sorry. It wasn't my intention". Honestly said, she look down, dare peeking though her lashes to flinch finding him staring at her the entire time.

"I can see that, the way it's written over your face". He chuckle moving his finger in air to the circle to her face making her palm touch her own heated cherry face.

"Ah !" She laughed nervously, unconsciously fisting on the foundation box.

"So, can I have it back ?" His hand reached out, palm up, with shiny white nails gleaming in the light, as if beckoning the object back from (Y/N)'s grasp. His fingers, slender and elegant, curled slightly, inviting her to return the coveted item. The nails, smooth and rounded, seemed to shine like tiny beacons, drawing (Y/N)'s gaze to his outstretched hand. With a gentle, yet persuasive gesture, he coaxed the foundation back into his possession, his shiny white nails glinting with quiet confidence.

"Huh ?" (Y/N)'s eyes widened, then blinked slowly, as if awakening from a spell, realizing the man had taken the foundation with effortless ease, leaving her feeling bewitched while his eyes crinkled, lips curling into a warm smile as he chuckled, clearly delighted by the woman's adorable, bewildered expression. His low, husky laugh filled the air, his gaze sparkling with amusement.

"What a adorable lady she is". His eyes roamed her body, lingering on every curve, exploring each detail, as if discovering hidden treasures. "You aren't from the department store right ?" (Y/N) blink twice.

"No".

"Oh, then you came to shop ?" He narrowed his eyes noticing her carrying a huge white handbag.

"No". She answered in short.

"Then why ?" He asked tilted his head with the notion his golden earrings swing gently.

"I am from the HQ department of the brand you are holding". Finally she smiled confidently pointing at the foundation's box printed Aurora Bloom.

"Oh !" He delightfully smile, toying with the object. "Pleasant to meet you then. He added.

"Pleasant to you t—" a melody emitted from her wrist watch widening her (E/C) eyes. "Oh god ! I need to hurry ! I am sorry but I need to go". She apologized having fun to converse with the stranger.

"No worries—" His eyes spot the missing ring finger. "—Miss ?" He tailed off insinuating her unknown name.

"(L/N) (Y/N), sir". She replied.

"Mine is Elias". (Y/N) choose not to comment at his lack of surname and nod before walking hastily. How could she forget this time's event manager is herself hosted on Tuesday, the very next day. Cursing her fate she ran.

Perfect. (Y/N) release a sigh overwhelmed by the fast yet perfect preparations she had to done within such short amount of time thankfully today would be the flawless day to showcase their skin products to their VIP guests who might be arriving any minute. The models have already came but "Has the makeup artist come yet ?" She questioned worried for the delayed time of the famous make up artist they somehow succeed in booking his seat as social media following was staggering, with millions hanging on his every post and tutorial. Celebrities clamored for his attention, and fashion icons praised his work. Sold-out masterclasses and coveted collaborations solidified his status as the most sought-after makeup artist in the industry. His name was synonymous with glamour and expertise, and his influence was simply unparalleled.

"It's alright ! The artist must be running late right ?" Soon her worries were proven right because soon after their automatic glass door opened revealing a man wore sleek black glasses, adding a touch of sophistication to his chiseled features. His French brown coat, crafted from seemly fine leather, draped elegantly across his broad shoulders, exuding luxury.

"The artist came, mam !" Her female junior announced however (Y/N) knitted her brows finding the man somehow familiar, from his blush long hair, tall statue only be still surprised finding the man remove his glasses to indeed be that beautiful man from yesterday who smile at her noting he remembered her.

"Wow ! The world indeed works in a mysterious ways". She grin shaking her head. "Welcome to the our event sir, please hurry the show begins within minutes". Adapting her professional mannerism she shaked his hand, guiding him to their backstage to appear on the front stage.

"We met once again, Miss (L/N)" His lagoon eyes on her, standing behind the dark curtain to go.

"Of course, Sir Elias". She professionally smiled intriguing the man a little. "Oh ! Your turn". She stretch out her hand to the stage guide him who nod.

Wonderfully the event unfolded with seamless precision, a testament to the makeup artist's mastery. With each stroke of his brush, he transformed the models into living canvases, showcasing their company's product unparalleled quality. The VIP guests watched in awe, their faces aglow with delight, as the artist's vision came to life. As the final model face the guest revamped into a living goddess, the room erupted into applause, a joyful crescendo that wrapped the evening in a warm, golden glow. The event concluded with effortless elegance, leaving a lasting impression on all who attended including the staff and (Y/N) herself.

"He was the right choice". She giggle as her co-workers swarmed around her, beaming with pride and admiration. "Congratulations, you absolutely crushed it!" they exclaimed, patting her on the back and shaking her hand. "Your attention to detail and tireless efforts made this event truly unforgettable!"

Meanwhile, the VIP guests approached her, their faces still aglow with delight. "Thank you for an incredible experience," they said, their voices filled with genuine gratitude. "Your preparation was seamless, and every aspect of the event was meticulously executed. You truly are a master of your craft!" As the guests departed, (Y/N) waved goodbye, basking in the warmth of their praises. Her colleagues continued to congratulate her, their kind words and smiles a testament to her hard work and dedication. With a sense of pride and accomplishment, (Y/N) smiled, knowing she had truly outdone herself once again.

"You know your craft". She flinch almost screaming meeting his eyes.

"Hello, Mr. Elias. Partially it is your skills too that the reason why it was such a successful event". He smiled shrugging his shoulder.

"Okay, please have a safe drive and reach home". She wave her hand and farewell him before he parted his lips to say, remained rooted at his place, watching her figure disappearing.

"She is always hurry to leave". He mutter walking to his car.

"Hmm...this time their new lipstick looks better". (Y/N) discreetly stare at the neighboring make up store despite having much customers on her stores, she still find the new appeal of their products threatening to her company so she walked inside nodding to the welcoming female clerks.

Picking out the a box, she about to apply on her palm when a voice intrupted.

"Don't do it that way". Her eyes wide meeting his lagoon ones, smiling alike to crescent moons she compare. "Apply it in your lips directly and it will definitely have a different impact". He encouraged the doubtful woman who glided the crimson bullet across her lips, leaving a bold, velvety trail in its wake.

"Hmmm not suiting your face. Lighter". He picked out a peach shade handing her who again gliding the peach lipstick across her lips in soft, smooth strokes, as he whispered, "Let it caress your skin, like a summer breeze." As his warm breath danced across her ear, she flinched, her hand trembling with the lipstick. She turned, her gaze darting to his, their faces too close, the air thick with tension. Her eyes widened, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face, as she leaned back, her shoulders tensing. The lipstick hovered, forgotten, as she struggled to create space between them, her breath catching in her throat. His gaze held hers, intense, unyielding, making her skin prickle with unease and heart racing.

"This suits you. I will take one". Hearing his comment she cleared her throat, slowly keeping the lipstick to where it was when from the tail of her eyes she saw him choose an uneven box of peach shade. Quickly she picked the perfect box stretching to him who raised his eyebrows in question.

"I already have one". He jiggle the box but frown staring at her shaking head.

"Take this, it has perfect box unlike the uneven one". She pointed out to his surprise as a thrilled chuckle left his lips.

"Thank you". Replacing the case.

"No problem". She wave her hand as if physically waving his gratitude.

"Wanna grab drinks ?" Elias suggested out of nowhere tilting his head.

"Okay". Checking her wrist watch she still has few minutes to spare. Also she did wanted a drink and they together went to the drink store nearby ordering one white chocolate matcha for her and one caramel frappuccino for him.

Waiting for the drink they sat near a white seat opposite of each other, talking about trivial things about one another where she learnt he is a regular customer of her brand along their frequent makeup artist that's why she was able to book him easily. Soon the waitress called for their drinks and they talked, sipping their drinks and walking.

"Okay I need to leave". She decided glancing at her wrist watch missing his disappointed gaze.

"Okay. It was nice talking to you". He told.

"Me too". Happily she answered, finding herself enjoying their conversation. "I will take my leave". With a wave she left once again.

However what she didn't expected was their daily meeting at the mall department store as she stepped into the store, clipboard in hand, she was focused on her task: ensuring the department was running smoothly. But then, she saw him—a familiar face among the shelves. Their daily meetings had become a pleasant ritual, a brief respite from her HQ duties. He'd ask about her day, and she'd share stories about the office, or he'd gossip about his latest makeup news. She found herself looking forward to these encounters, feeling a sense of comfort and camaraderie with this customer. He was easy to talk to, and their conversations flowed effortlessly. As she checked the inventory, he'd chat with her, making the task more enjoyable. Their bond grew with each passing day, an unexpected connection between them she wasn't anticipating because once a mundane checking became the hightlight of her day with that weeks pass in blink of an eye. Until one day they sat in their usual white table in front of the drink shop inside the mall.

As he asked the question "Do you like me?" she felt a sudden jolt of surprise, her mind racing with a mix of emotions. Her eyes widened, and actions paused before laughter awkwardly bursting back and forth like a defensive shield.

"Yes, as a good friend!" she exclaimed, trying to brush off the tension, her tone light and playful. But in her haste to respond, she missed the subtle strain in his smile, the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes but a doubt linger on her mind for him to ask such a question. Why ? Never in her mind did she view the man romantic, beautiful yes but that's a admiration unlike love, she is certain of her feelings are not alike to love.

"I like you too." His voice was calm, sincere, To her, his words were a friendly echo, a mirrored response, a confirmation of their camaraderie. She nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her, thinking the tension had dissipated, that they were back on familiar ground. (Y/N) simply smiled back, comfortable in her assumption, oblivious to the moment hung, suspended, a delicate balance of feelings, but she didn't notice, already moving on, the exchange filed away as a pleasant, friendly conversation and took her drinks however she soon has to depart this time with a hint of awkwardness.

"It's alright. Nothing is wrong". And correct to her thought the next day was normal as their conversation flowed easily, like a gentle stream. (Y/N) chatted with him, laughing and joking, feeling a sense of comfort and familiarity. His question from the day before seemed like a distant memory, a minor blip in their friendly interactions. She didn't dwell on it, assuming it was just a momentary lapse, a strange anomaly in their otherwise effortless exchanges. As they talked, she felt her guard drop, her smile genuine, her heart light. Everything seemed alright again, the tension forgotten, their friendship back on track.

"Okay, see you again !" (Y/N) told glancing at her wrist watch because today she has an important delivery to approval on the said store.

"Yup ! See you again". He bid too when a message notification made her pause, worry etching her face. Her dad's request to bring the anniversary cake had just been detailed by the store's cancellation due to an emergency. Panic set in, her mind racing with consequences, her eyes darting around for a solution. Stress and concern replaced her relaxed demeanor, her fingers flying across the screen to respond to her dad's message. Elias noticing the drastic change asked and she replied elaborating her situation of how she must reach to approvel the delivery application but on the otherhand has to get the custom cake from the cake shop if not then the cake would not be handover.

"How about I went to get the cake instead of you and delivery to your parent's house. Didn't you said it is near ?" He presented the idea, smiling causing (Y/N) to halted her racing thoughts and a breath of air pass her lungs.

"Of course ! Of course !". She laughed heartily handing him the receipts and addresses before running to the delivery store to hastily complete her task and return home as soon as possible.

"Today's work was difficult". Her finger pads rub her forehead re-thinking her workload, getting out of the car and towards her parent's house caught the setting sun's beautiful view. Ringing the doorbell she waited thoughts going back to Elias. "How sweet of a person he is". A smile naturally curl to her lips and wider when the door opened by her mother.

"Happy anniversary mama !" (Y/N) embrace tightly, soaking on her familiar comfort while she returned the affections.

"Thank you dearest. Come inside, it must be hot outside". Her mother close the door behind as she let herself in, walking to the living room finding glimpse of her father sitting on the side chair and ran to embrace him from behind.

"Happy anniversary papa". She sing song, playfully kiss his hair.

"Thank you princess". His aged voice laughed, caress her hands to which she close her eyes melting into his raw love. "Also this young man is such an gentleman. Your taste in men is indeed great like your mother". She frown opening her eyes.

"What are you talking—" Her (E/C) wide, taken a back by Elias appearance sitting across her father, on the sofa and he raised his hands in mock surprise, his eyebrows arched in a playful gesture.

"Why are you—" Her words cut by her mother gentle ones.

"My heartless girl ! You left this man to fend for himself by telling him to get the cake and now you ask why is he here ? Of course I told him to grab one or two bite". The young woman nod, feeling guilty and appreciate at her mother's gesture.

"Ah— about that I am extremely sorry. It was my job to do". Elias shook his head nonchalant.

"Yet without my idea you wouldn't agree so yea, not your fault too". She glee truly pleased to find such a good friend she couldn't ask more and the anniversary celebration was a resounding success, filled with love, laughter, and warmth. As the evening unfolded, (Y/N)'s parents shared a tender moment, her father leaning in to kiss her mother softly on the lips. (Y/N) couldn't help but mockingly scrunch up her face in distaste, eliciting a hearty laugh from Elias sitting beside her. The atmosphere was light and joyful, with the sweet scent of cake wafting through the air. As they gathered around the dessert table, (Y/N)'s parents fed each other cake, their eyes locked in a loving gaze. The beautiful man joined in, playfully feeding (Y/N) a bite, his fingers brushing against hers. The room was filled with the sound of clinking forks and happy chatter, as they all savored the sweetness of the moment, and the love that surrounded them. Time stood still and they basked in the warmth of their little family's happiness, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

"Thank you very much. You helped me a lot". She showed her gratitude standing at the doorstep.

Elias shake his head "I enjoyed it so no need". Silence fill between them letting (Y/N) once again notice the lunar luminescence cascaded over the beautiful man's countenance, bathing his sculpted features in an soft, silvery radiance, as if the moon itself had bestowed a gentle caress upon his serene and peaceful face.

"Bye and good night".

"Same to you". He returned, turning his back to her and drove his car away.

From that day forward, the bond between (Y/N) and Elias blossomed into a beautiful, unbreakable connection. (Y/N) found herself opening up to Elias in ways she never thought possible, sharing with him her deepest thoughts, feelings, and desires. She began to show him pictures of her friends, promising to introduce them soon, and shared stories about her life, her passions, and her dreams. As their trust grew, they exchanged contacts, marveling at how they had gone so long without sharing such a simple yet intimate detail. Their conversations flowed effortlessly, filling their break times with laughter and delight. Elias became (Y/N)'s confidant, her partner in crime, and her guiding light. Their friendship was a symphony of joy, a harmonious blend of trust, understanding, and mutual respect. (Y/N) cherished this new connection, feeling seen, heard, and understood in ways she never thought possible. Elias had become her rock, her safe haven, and her forever friend.

"By the way, I need your help with something". This alert her entire attention to him, sipping her drink from the staw as they both stood in front of the usual drink shop at the mall.

"Yes, anything. What is it about ?" (Y/N) was ready to help him when it's his need of time.

"I need your expertise in sorting through my grandparent's old photo albums. I want to create a memory book for my family, but I'm overwhelmed". Elias avert his eyes, smiling rigidly causing her heart melt at such an thoughtful gesture.

"Aww ! That sweet of course. I am happy to help". But his expression remained uncomfortable.

"But, you need to come to my house for that". He whispered dare to stare into her (E/C) eyes.

She suck her breath knowing she never once visited his home and she gulped nevertheless she grin again because her schedule is free mostly and she wants to help "It's alright ! I am happy to go but of course if you are comfortable". She tilted her head.

"Oh !— of course I would be or why would I ask you for help".

"Likewise but why did you ask me ?" If she recalls correctly he showed her many of his influencer, normal friends.

"Because you are the only friend who is good at managing things. You know like a good event manager who knows how to put things together ?" It earned a melodious laugh from (Y/N).

"I feel appreciated".

"As you should". She giggle more along him for his compliment. Soon she found herself in his car as he drove smoothly through the city, their eyes meeting briefly in the rearview mirror. Arriving at the penthouse he lives. The towering marvel of modern architecture that seemed to touch the stars. He expertly maneuvered the car into the private parking garage, and they stepped out into the opulent lobby, surrounded by polished marble and gleaming steel. A swift elevator ride later, they entered the penthouse itself, a breathtaking expanse of floor-to-ceiling windows, chic décor, and stunning city views. Her eyes widened in wonder, feeling as though she'd entered a different world more important his personal safe of walls.

"Sit on the sofa". He pointed going to the open modern kitchen. (Y/N) felt serenity wash over her when her feet stepped onto the shiny white tiles, their cool surface calming her senses. Sinking into the plush black sofa, she felt enveloped in comfort, her eyes darting around the luxurious space in wonder. With each glance, her awe grew, her heart swelling with gratitude for this stunning sanctuary.

"Here, a juice for you and you see those dusty stacks of heavy things. I found them inside". The cold glass slid within her grip but she smiled nervously because unfortunately blinded by the luxury she often seen on the TV she failed to detect the bluntly dusty things.

"Yes". She lied now laiding her eyes.

"They are I think contains photos of my grandparents but I need help to create an entire new album". Elias shrug helplessly.

"Alright ! Let's do this then". (Y/N) full of enthusiasm knelt down, her hands reaching for the dusty photo albums that lay open on the sleek glass table, her fingers touched the worn covers, a cloud of dust swirled up, carrying with it memories of laughter and love. But with the memories came a fit of coughing, as the dust tickled her throat and lungs.

Elias being swift and attentive, appeared beside her, his movements fluid as he knelt down. He handed her a glass of crystal clear water, his eyes filled with concern. "Here, drink this," he whispered, his voice soft and soothing. She sipped the water, cough subsiding only then to be aware of the proximity of their bodies, kneeling together on the floor. Their faces were inches apart, their shoulders touching, and their legs aligned. The closeness sent a shiver down her spine. His lagoon gaze drifted from her eyes to her lips, still moist from the water. His hand, still cradling the glass, began to move, his fingers brushing against her face.

With gentle care, Elias thumb rubbed against her lips, wiping away the droplets of water. she felt a sudden jolt of discomfort. His touch, though gentle, sent a wave of unease through her body. She tried to pull back, but his long slender hand lingered, his fingers tracing the curve of her mouth.

"(Y/N), I love you. Actually I was in love with you for a long time. Please, please accept me". Desperation whisper though his pink lips bringing their face closely and gripping her chin with his thump settle on the curve of her mouth.

"But you said you like—" Her words intruded.

"Never as a friend did I said". Elias connect their forehead. "It was you who receive it that way". (Y/N)'s eyes darted away, her gaze falling on the dusty floorboards as she struggled to process the sensation. Her heart raced, but not with excitement— rather with anxiety.

Trapped.

Betrayed.

Bothered.

She is feeling her personal space invaded by the intimate touch. The air thick with tension, the silence between them oppressive. (Y/N) longed to break free, to shatter the uncomfortable stillness that had settled over them. But her voice caught in her throat, leaving her unable to speak, unable to move, as Elias' hand remained, a gentle yet unyielding presence on her skin.

Why ? How ? When ? So many unanswered crawl inside her limited knowledge. Everything was going well, perfect yet why did it has to crash so harshly.

"Please, (Y/N) be mine. I can offer you anything you want. Riches, fame, connection, promotion. Say a word and it inside your palm". Slowly he draw their distance and (Y/N) felt utter destroyed by the wave of soft lips press against her. The kiss was harsh, demanding, and devoid of love. Her hands desperate to push him away, however his slender grip her fast, his arms wrapping around her like a vice or more like an beautiful snake wrap around his beloved prey.

Raged filled her (E/C) eyes, loathing the string of fate leading her in such advance, loathing the feel of his lips on hers, the way his tongue probed her mouth without consent. loathing the way he held her, like she was a prisoner, not a willing participant she wanted to grace her loved man her first kiss.

Finally air became a need did the beautiful man separate their interviwned lips, heat bust his pale cheeks, adoring heart pupils onto his eyes, chest heaving with newfound excitement snarling the chance she shove him, spatting words of vemon and eyes blazing with anger. "You disgust me". With that she ran and he let her.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she rushed to a taxi, traveling to her home of trust, sobbing by the betrayal she was returned by the conditional trust she gave after reaching home towards her bathroom was a burl rather her sole focus is escaping the lingering sensation of Elias lips on hers.

Rushed to the sink, gagging at the memory of the unwelcomed kiss. She turned on the faucet, cupping her hands under the running water to splash it onto her lips. Fingers rubbed her mouth harshly to scrub away the disgust moment yet the sensation lingered, haunting her. She gagged again, her stomach churning with revulsion. (Y/N) grasped the edge of the sink, her knuckles white with tension, as she struggled to compose herself eventually her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the white floor, her body trembling with anger and disgust. She sat there, her back against the cabinet, her eyes fixed on the floor as tears of frustration and violation streamed down her face.

The bathroom, once a sanctuary, now felt like a refuge from the trauma of the forced kiss. (Y/N) sat there, surrounded by the cold, sterile tiles, trying to catch her breath, in effort to erase the memory of Elias. The man she thought was her cherished partner, a delightful friend. Where ? Where did it all went wrong ? Where was the wrong step or word she utter to lead such devastating ending or was his whole persona was a facade. A spider wed to trap a butterfly like her and she was a naive little thing to walk right on it.

As the night's veil lifted, the sun rose, casting its warm rays upon the world. The golden light crept over the horizon, banishing the shadows and illuminating the landscape. The rays peeked through the curtains, gently coaxing (Y/N) out of her dark reverie.

Her eyes sunken and dark from the sleepless night, slowly opened alike two heavy doors creaking on their hinges. The golden light danced across her face, highlighting the purple circles that had formed under her eyes. The horror of the previous night's experience still lingered, etched on her face like a shadow.

(Y/N) blinked, her gaze unfocused, as the light pierced through her brain, reminding her of the traumatic events that had unfolded. She winced, mind recoiling from the memory. The usual ray of sun, a symbol of hope and renewal, now seemed like a harsh reminder of the darkness she had endured. She sat up, her body droop heavy, weighed down by the exhaustion and emotional turmoil. The golden light continued to pour in, illuminating the room, however (Y/N) felt not a hint of warmth, not of comfort. Only a sense of dread, a fear of what the new day might bring.

Disturbed by her numb thoughts she called her senior announcing her day off slipping the lie of being sick before declining and about to drift into sleep.

DING ! Her doorbell ring. She ignored. Again. Again. Again. Again and again following with a "(Y/N) ! This is me, your mother and father". Irritated she drag her feet to the front door, opening to reveal her aged parents.

"(Y/N)�� what happen sweetie ?" Worry weight her words, touching her daughter's check when she flinch unconsciously frightening both her parents and herself.

"Come inside". Heavy her voice sounded, closing the door and sitting on the chair while they together on the sofa.

The air was heavy, thick with tension. Silence was oppressive, suffocating. The atmosphere was dense, like a knife could cut through it. Slicing through the strained quiet like a razor-sharp blade through velvet. Every breath felt like a struggle, every movement a battle against the crushing gravity of the moment.

"Darling, did you fought with your boyfriend ?" Bravely her mother finally questioned raising her eyebrows.

"Boyfriend ? Fight ?" Her voice trembled.

"Or". The old woman grasp. "Did you break up". Her husband rest his palm on her shoulder while (Y/N) confuse more by their words.

"Boyfriend ? Break up ? What are you talking about ? I do not have a boyfriend to begin with so how can I fight or break up with him ?" Frustration she shake her head as if physically shoving their creative imagination.

"Honey, it's alright. You don't have to hide from us. We understand you wanted to keep it a secret but he told us and we accept him as your boyfriend". Her mother calmly smiled providing a sense of comfort yet all she felt was suffocation and more confusion.

"Okay, at first I was sceptical. He looked flashy, an playboy however he is actually a child at heart, a very good one and is always eager to help". This time her father spoke lacing with a fondness she didn't expect him to talk about someone.

"What is wrong with you ! I never had a boyfriend in my life". She scream her lungs out yet her mother clap her hands on her mouth and her father pressed his lips thin.

"We know Elias is your boyfriend. (Y/N), don't be afraid. We are your parents". Then why ? Then why she doesn't feel the warmth from her parents as if they are distant people wearing familiar faces because the words spoken from their lips doesn't make sense.

"He was never my boyfriend ! Who ever told you that ? Don't assume things on your own". Frustration leaking though her voice, eyes narrowed in a glare and lips in disdain from stress.

"He told us himself. Elias told us when he delivery the cake ! Now don't tell me he was lying". Her father sigh stunned to see her daughter's rebellious side at such age.

"W-what ?" She stutter suddenly the world blurred, the walls melt away like a watercolor painting. The room zoomed out, leaving her suspended in a sea of uncertainty. Furniture and decorations receded into the distance, and she felt like she was floating, disconnected from reality. Their voices turn to distant echoes, thoughts a jumbled mess, as shock wrapped around her like a shroud.

"Why would he be my boyfriend ?"

"Why are you asking us ? You are the one in relationship and you are the one to hid it if not for the good man". Enough. The last straw of her held anger cut.

"G-G-Good man ? Good man ? Good fucking man ! You are calling a man who—who—" Words trailed off, lost in the abyss of her own horror, as she struggled to articulate the vile truth. "A-and that good man—" Despite her effectors the sentences remained unfinished, a haunting echo of her own trauma leaving her succumbed to the darkness of her memories.

"(Y/N)". Her mother's brows quiver and her hand touch hers. "I understand". A sense of relief came to her. Her mother understood, understood her assault by the vile, vile man. "I understand couple fight. They fight a lot and dirty but in the end they fight to be better, to be more loving, setting differences aside fight is normal as long as the couple love each other. You going through a rough patch with Elias is normal. He is a good man, believe your mother's judgment". Her words burn a slap on her cheek and her words were salt on (Y/N)'s wound.

"How dare you !" Her voice shattered the air, a raw, anguished with tears rolling down her cheeks. "How dare you labeled a man who forcefully kiss me ! Get out". Standing up, her eyes close feeling her throat constricted, dry and tight, as shame crept in like a thief, stealing her breath and dignity.

"Oh my (Y/N), couples fights are normal so is kissing. He must have meant it to calm you—"

"So he forced himself on me ?"

"He must not had meant to make you—". Her eyes wide in horror watching their impassive expressions oblivious to her distress she felt a stranger rather than daughter sharing a space now. Their faces blur by her teary vision. They are not her parents. They are strangers. They are not her parents if they slide with a stranger who not only forced himself on her but also lied.

"Get out". She commonded raw, loud and clear walking to her bedroom running from the suffocated, unbreathable small space. Her eyes watched her parents walked away, their figures fading into the distance. She felt a complex layers of emotions and when they turned their heads, she quickly shut the curtains, blocking out the sight of their faces. Her strength couldn't bear to look at them, couldn't bear to see their nonchalant expressions.

Turning away from the window and sat down on her bed, her hands shaking as she reached for her phone. She needed someone to talk to, someone who would understand. Her fingers dialed the familiar number of her best friend, the one person she knew would listen without judgment. The phone rang, (Y/N) felt a lump form in her throat. She was ready to unleash all her emotions, to share the pain and confusion that had been building up inside her. She took a deep breath, preparing to pour out her heart to her friend, the only one who could offer her the comfort and support she desperately needed.

"Hello (Y/N) ! How do you do ?" Her ray of light spoke.

"Emily. I-I-I want to talk to you about something".

"Sure, anything (Y/N) ! Aren't I your best friend". Lighthearted giggles on the otherhand comfort her ears.

"The thing is, remember Elias ?"

"Oh ! What about him ? The hottie". A bitter taste left her lips hearing her sound so oblivious yet she understand it's not her fault.

"Well, yes. He yesterday forced himself on me". Silent was the line for a second before a loud screeching noise came.

"What ? That's messed up !" Her firm and resolute voice felt a weight lift from (Y/N)'s heart, a sense of validation wash over her. She was no longer alone in her outrage and hurt. Emily's words were a balm to her soul, soothing her raw emotions. Feeling seen, heard, and believed.

"I knew it you woul—"

"But you see we have to also must see his point of view. He must had done that in desperation to be more than friends with benefits with you. I know normally friends with benefits should know their limits but he is a kind, pure and perfect man for you". As fast as the ray of light came, that vanished in front of her soaking her in cold reality, numbing her heart. Icy truth seeped in, crushing her soul.

"W-what are you talking about Emily ? I never had that kind of relationship with him !! Didn't I told you ?" More tears cover the dry ones, confusion lay on her mind to wonder how each important person to her is on his side.

"Gosh ! (Y/N) forgive me actually Elias told me about your relationship. He was even ashamed to admit it at first before whole heartedly declare his romantic feelings for you that even I was touched". Lies. Lies and lies. Gritted her teeth she decline the call, throwing it on her bed.

Madly her lips parted to scream. Ha ! What a wicked man he is, feeding lies to her loved ones, snatching them away from her and all in an blink of eye and right under her nose. How idiot was she to not notice ? How ? How ? How ? Rage pump on her veins and emotions controlled her rationality.

Swifty she call his number, clenching her fist. "Hello darling, I was waiting for your call". His sickly sweet voice came from the other line.

"Stop this you fucking bastard ! Stop these mind games ! Stop the lies". (Y/N) glare at him though phone.

"Ouch ! Calling my love lies, games hurt more than I expected. I guess this is the power of loving someone. Huh ?" His laughter was like a taunting to her, racing her pulses.

"I will kill you !" She threaten.

"Oh how lovely it is to have your hand on me as I take my last breath". She throw the phone across her bed in disgust and helpless not aware he is driving to her house. Finally obtained the moment he was so patiently awaited. The time to have her vulnerable and alone.

Wasn't she sound so cute right now ? He bite his lips betting she looks more adorable.

Spoiled. Growing up he was spoiled by everyone, every meeting face from his childhood, once they look at his face, they drastically change their behaviors, showering him with free gifts, praises and all, regardless of old or young. He was the beloved of their hearts, the king ruling their minds. Thus, growing up being spoiled wasn't new for him, the admiration stares mixing with some disband doesn't affect him why ? Because that means they are jealous of him. Ha ! Who wouldn't, he didn't view his arrogance as bad, he simply believe it as his confidence nothing more, nothing less after all all women confess to him one after another non-stop yet never did he loved any. Until that fateful day he went to the shopping mall of department store meeting that adorable woman, all red, blushly for him. It amused him to end, what a pleasant play toy to enjoy for sometimes however the drastic change due to her professionalism was a behold see.

She was nothing like the woman he saw that day. He almost tricked into thinking she forget him.

"We met once again, Miss (L/N)"

"Of course, Sir Elias".

Good, she didn't forget him. She simply wanted to act professional. How fun. He enjoyed nailling his usual performance that for some reasons always got him claps, praises when in reality he just does it naturally because he has nothing else to do. Unlike other people investing in their hobby, he has nothing. Perhaps because of that he is used to being pampered, loved and given anything he wish.

However why ? Why once again like yesterday after the event end did she not stay to convey meaningless string of words like others ? Always running away like an lamb catching sight of an wolf. Boring. Elias care not to pay attention to her after all many have dislike him but thousands who love him. The next day encountering her again was a pure game of fates but after noting her little consider habits did he realize she loves him.

Because if she doesn't, who will notice the uneven box of lipstick replacing with the perfect one ? If she doesn't, why she glance at him so many times ? Often smiling and appearing cheerful ? If she doesn't, why she always remembers his drink from the one time he ordered ? And so much more.

She must love him. Right ? Oh ! Oh ! How naive he was to not realize her blunt feelings for him. It's okay he has fallen for her too. Yes, Elias, the man who usual pampered has this sudden desire to pamper his beloved, watching her daily or even seen a glimpse of her flutter his heart like never did before. Their accidental brushes of fingers and shoulders sent him jolts of delight. Once seen her beautiful face could his lips curve to smile itself.

It's okay he will wait. Wait for her to confess and him accept. One week pass, two week pass. Maybe she is playing hard to get. Understandable she must be waiting for the perfect moment to confess that must mean he has to appear perfect right ? Daily he spent hours in front of mirror selecting the perfect outfit, smoothly care his hair, highlight his beautiful face. First it was only limited to changing outfits to style his hair daily to cut his hair in more desirable way to only repeat the routine. Each passing day he is refining himself then why ? Why ? Why didn't she even compliment him ? Let alone confess to him already ? He dolled himself up almost—no surely daily yet what is she so timid about. Til he realize —actually she isn't timid at all.

Rather she is not in love with him. How he got to know ? Because he was hastily ran to the mall, very giggy to meet the heart of his life when his breath stuck in his throat. In front of him a scene of (Y/N) tying a middle aged man's tie that came untie and she welcome him warmly in return of his thanks before talking warmly to the staffs asking if any needs they wishes to have, even helping a woman who's having trouble wearing lipstick and non-judgmentally explaining their products to others.

She is actually not in love with him. She is just nice. As if the gods played a ridicule game to him still his hatred was directed to the gods not her. How could he blame her ? She was a naive little thing. Sooner of later she will come to love him. That's why one day he asked her.

"Do you like me ?"

"Yes, As a good friend !" What a dishearten words.

"I like you too." In a romantic way were the words he choose to not speak. It's okay, if she doesn't like him now she will in the future. All she needs is time. He has to nurture, sewed and take time to built the love or else how it would be possible. First he has to make her alone. Alone to reply on him. And only him.

And the gods were at his side to grace him with the opportunity on golden plate he was used to. Using the excuse to delivery the cake to her parents house was the first step to isolate her. So he did what he was naturally gifted at, winning hearts regardless of age. Quickly they were head over hell, swooning at his lies about their secret relationship and more lies about their wish to keep it a secret as she want to disclose it on her own term. Fools, her parents were and naive his (Y/N) was moving closer to him. Showing him pictures of her friends, spewing all of her work related words and he silently memorize her password so when she went to use restroom or busy checking her tasks, he smartly save all of her contacts.

Charming her friends, dancing them at his rhythm against her, saying they are friends with benefits where he was unfortunate to fall in love and finally he invited (Y/N) home and confess his passionate love.

"You disgust me".

Well, didn't it end badly ? It's alright she will come crawling to him. Right inside his embrace all willingly. Elias will be the bigger person in here, forgiving her amuture mistakes because he loves her.

Ring ! Ring ! Elias stand in front of his beloved house, ringing the doorbell. The finale came and his patient broke all lose. This is the moment she has to be his and he hers.

"Mom, Dad ! I told you—" Her breath hitched and instinctively tried to slam the door shut, but he was too swift, too potent. His hand darted out, arresting the door's momentum with a firm yet gentle touch, and he stepped across the threshold with a fluid motion. The door creaked in defeat, surrendering to his quiet strength. (Y/N) retreated, her heart racing like a wild animal, as Elias's eyes seemed to delve into her very essence. His presence was a palpable force, filling the space with an almost suffocating intensity. With a subtle click, he closed the door behind him, his hand lingering on the doorknob as his gaze continued to hold hers captive.

"What's the hurry hmm ?" The gentle smile contrast to the violent actions was ironic. Unfazed he step forward. She step back.

He advanced, his footsteps deliberate and purposeful and (Y/N) retreated, her own steps faltering in a desperate bid for distance.

With each step he took forward, she mirrored with a hesitant step back, her eyes fixed on his, her breath caught in her throat.

"What are you doing here ?" Alarm danger ringing inside her entire body, sending mix signals to her flight, fight or freeze mode. All she felt being hovered by him was fear, no longer the anger fuming her veins.

"Just here to visit my darling". In sing song manner he told, walking until his wild cat cornered. (Y/N) feeling the wooden wall of her kitchen immediately run away near the stairs.

"Just stay there—". Her words cut off.

"Do you love me ?" Using the same honeyed coated voice he asked.

"I will call the police Elias !" She threatened

"Do you love me ?" He bore his lagoon eyes into her (E/C) ones.

"Please stay away".

"If you answer. Do you love me".

"No. I don't". She spat, bewilded by the fact he would wish for her to love him even after the twisted games he played with her.

"Then will you love me ?" Her face contorted in mix of anxiety and exasperation.

"No". Nodding calmly to her denial he picked the nearby kitchen knife scarying her further.

"No. No. No. No. No. Elias ! Please don't do this—"

"I must or else you won't be mine". Saying she was ready to sprint for her survival however he pressed the knife to his throat, tears streaming down his face like rivulets of sorrow, his eyes pleading for her. "Please be mine or I will kill myself". He gaze fondly at her widen ones.

"You are crazy". She whispered not expected such move.

"Yes, I am for you". A sly, mirthless grin spread across Elias's face, his lips curling upward in a macabre smile. "So will you love me ?"

Tears swelled in her eyes, fear and despair mingling watching his steady hand inch the sharp blade closer.

"No wait !"

"Then say do you love me ?" He whisper alike to the sweet nothings hushes. "Because without you why must I stay alive". He added.

"Okay okay I will say it". She doesn't know. She doesn't know why she says it because a twisted sense of desperation clawed at her chest, a morbid longing to preserve the life of the one she loathed, as if his existence was inextricably linked to her own.

"I l-l-lo— I can't". In despair she collapse unable to bear so many complicated emotions and nightmares at the same time in her seemly simple life. Footsteps echoed the silent room as his shoes came to her view and he bend to her level, throwing the knife and cupping her chin like she was a delicate flower despite plucking her roots and held her.

"It's all right you will learn to love me". A happy smile curve his alluring lips that press against hers. This time the is gentle, caressing and lovely as if petals of love is pouring out of his lips silently conveying his words. Slipping his tongue in hers, he trapped her tongue savoring her divine flovours he was thirsty to drink again. Sucking mouthful of air he kiss more, not letting their lips separated for a moment and close his eyes drowning under the moment while she close her eyes motionlessly stilled, letting him do as he please selling herself to him with the price of forever.

As oxygen grew scarce, he parted their lips grinning ear to ear, leaning his forehead to hers.

"This is a lie. All of these are lies you said to others". She utter hopelessly.

"Then let's make it a reality". He suggested however brows frown watching her shake her head.

"Can't. Too much lies to forget".

Chuckly raspy, he kiss once more saying. "Then let's make it the beautiful lie".

FIN

⌜ Once again thank you @meo-eiru for letting me use your wonderful male character Elias and your permission to write this story along thank you readers for reading the story. Hope you enjoy it ⌟

[servantofthefates]

Life-Changing Money Manifestation Tip 💰

This is not a technique I learned from books, or a principle my elders taught me. It is simply something I have observed to be unfailingly effective.

I know it might seem counterintuitive, impractical, and perhaps even downright foolish. But it has been consistently true for me and the people around me.

The tip is: Never ever be frugal with money.

Even when you're afraid you won't have enough, be open-handed with your spending. Spend on your needs, spend on your wants, spend on others who deserve your generosity. Just. Keep. Spending.

The fuck, right? What if you already don't have enough to begin with?

Well, you know how they say, "Love is infinite" or "There's enough love to go around" or "Love multiplies, it doesn't divide"?

The same is true for money.

Money is energy. It just happens to have physical manifestations like coins, bills or gold.

Love too is energy. It just happens to have physical manifestations like kisses, words or gifts.

And it is common knowledge that if we wish to be loved, we must first love ourselves, and give love freely to those who are worth it. We must let love flow through us.

Same with money. If we want to have it, we must first spend it on ourselves and give it freely to those we deem worth it. We must let money flow through us.

And flow it will.

Just as it is nearly impossible for a cold-hearted person to invite love, it is also very hard for a stingy person to invite money.

I have seen this first-hand many times.

This man owned a boutique advertising agency. He gave out bonuses and free international trips to his team the way corporations give out cheap pizzas to their employees. And back then, this man's business thrived. Some months, he made more than global agencies did. And the awards were pouring in too. He was on top of the world.

Suddenly, his elderly mother got terribly sick, and he panicked. He knew he had to spend a fortune on her medical bills, and his fear got the best of him. So he cancelled the free trips. He stopped giving bonuses. Eventually, he even cut down salaries and moved to a smaller office.

One year later, his business went bankrupt. Because all his talented employees left. And with that, the trust of his clients dried out. His business — which had the potential to become an empire — ended up becoming just a TikTok trend.

Because he held on to money too tightly... money felt suffocated and walked out on him entirely.

The opposite example is me. No, I do not also own an ad agency. But I have learned to never worry about money. And since then, money has never disappointed me.

Last year, someone dear to me had been praying for a MacBook, but her parents couldn't afford it. I too couldn't afford it. Not without digging into my savings. So I did. Because I know money will always come back to me. And it did.

Two days after I placed the order, I received an email from Shareworks that my stocks were ready to be withdrawn. The amount? Double what I paid for the Mac. These stocks are released yearly, so I tend to forget about them. But they came at the right time.

And it is like this every time.

I buy a Louis Vuitton bag with money meant for my holiday. Suddenly, a friend invites me to go with them on a fully paid trip to the same country I was planning to visit.

I buy a bunch of tarot decks with a week's worth of transportation costs, and my company announces we're working from home for a week while they repair some rain damage.

I buy a box of Patchi chocolates when I'm already short on my monthly budget, and my salary gets released early because it's the holidays, and the CEO is feeling friendly.

I know life is not always as sweet as I described it to be. Sometimes, it's not about Louis Vuittons and Patchis, but about diapers and cough medicine. I am perfectly aware some people are struggling — not about holidays and tarot splurges, but about keeping the electricity on and putting food on the table. I will not pretend to know the solution to their hardships.

What I do know is there are people who are considered poor in my community who are seriously way happier than me. And I know I have had bosses who made thrice as I did who were far more miserable than me.

And that tells me that despite our different stations in life, energy is energy. And it's always best to let it flow freely.

So I repeat... never ever be frugal with money.

When it knocks on your door, say, "Hey, nice to see you!" When it leaves your house, say, "See you again soon!" And when it finally seems to be making itself at home, do not lock it in the basement. Cook dinner with it. Invite your friends over. Watch a movie. Do karaoke. Look money in the eyes and say, "I'm glad you've decided to stay."

[cheralith]

vogue — 「 boss/fashion designer!geto suguru x reader 」

synopsis ; even without much knowledge in the world of fashion, you decide that it's in your best interest to work for the country's fashion magazine powerhouse. however, you begin to second-guess your decision when you're faced with the grueling labor of its one and only editor-in-chief who expects nothing less of perfection. can your efficiency meet his standards or will you be out the door before you can even blink?

content tags/warnings ; gn!reader, use of they/them pronouns, mild language, traditional japanese basis of (l/n) (f/n) used, reader wears glasses, makeup, and heeled boots, some mild manga and jjk 0 spoilers (three minor characters from each are introduced), uhhh suguru being a dick lawl, some parts not edited/not beta read

contains ; editor-in-chief!geto, fashion designer!geto, assistant!reader, assistant turned ****!reader, platonic roommate!ino, modern au, mild angst, some crack if you squint

word count ; 10.2k

notes ; heavily inspired by "the devil wears prada" and "paradise kiss", so there'll be some references i've dropped within this—see if you can spot them! also the censored is spoilers so until then, hehe.

now playing ; seven days in sunny june - jamiroquai

It’d be foolish not to know the household name of Geto Suguru, the ultimate male muse of Jun Takahashi whose title has yet to be reigned by another. He was the ultimate breathing mannequin of the iconic Yohji Yamamoto piece he had worn on the Milan runway back when he was just a teenager. It was one of the most staple pieces of the new century that helped open the gates of the mixing of world culture and avant garde fashion—an England-Japanese punk fusion of an ashen and tattered kasaya layered under the contrasting statement piece: the earth-toned gojōu-gesa splattered with weaves of gold—and it was that very piece that rose him to the top of the fashion world as one of the most powerful names in global fashion.

And how could he not? At seventeen, he was scouted as a model for Gaulthier and became his muse at the ripe age of twenty before several other worldwide designers began to fight for his eyes. It was only a few shrewd years later that he’d open up his own successful fashion line, RIIKO, named in honor of his late sister, resulting in it becoming one of the fashion line pillars in the modern century. 

It didn’t take long after that, due to his fame and distinct education from Jujutsu University, rising to the top for Kaizen fashion magazine and ruling it with an iron fist and several cups of coffee with almost all his designs on display for all to see in the office. It was due to his work that Kaizen became the powerhouse of powerhouses of fashion editorials and magazines and it was solely his work that made fashion what it was in present times. 

Whether it was direct or indirect, Geto had impacted the industry in all sorts of ways. Be it blossoming an upcoming supermodel’s name or setting new fashion trends, everything could essentially be traced to Geto Suguru. 

So it’s understandable that many had called you a fool—a dimwit, even—for not understanding how big of a deal it was to become his junior assistant after lazily submitting your resume. Originally, you had just wanted to become a simple lifestyle journalist for papers like Sankei Shimbun or The Japan Times, but seeing how it was between a seemingly mysterious fashion magazine that mentioned, received gasps, or the measly and homely newspaper of The Hokkaido Tribune, a magazine you knew would only give new journalists the scraps of what they earned, the choice was obvious. 

Whatever gave you more money, you’d take. Survival of the fittest, was this world not?

“Do not tell me you’re going to your interview at Kaizen wearing that?” Ino barks out a laugh as he finishes his morning cereal for breakfast, scanning your outfit. “You’re going to work in a fashion magazine, not some dingy corporate office.”

You sneer at him as you shove on your loafers (don’t mind that the leather is peeling slightly on the side). You think that there’s nothing remotely wrong with your overused gauntlet gray matching set of trousers and blazer with a slightly wrinkled button-up underneath it. 

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at your roommate and parttime brother figure. “What on earth do you know about fashion?”

“Enough of it to know that outfit is atrocious for that type of environment,” he states simply as he shoves a donut in his mouth. He kicks his feet up on the table, making you cringe at their nakedness. “Trust me, change if you can. Make a statement for ‘em.”

Ino Takuma sighs and glances at your thick spectacles that you’ve worn since early college. “And at least change your glasses for your contacts. Heard they don’t like those sorta things over there. At least not the prescription kind.”

“Can’t find them,” you grunt when you feel the weight of your shoulder bag heave down your body. “I’m already late, anyway,” you sigh, “Listen, if I don’t come back alive, which I will by the way, then you can dance on my grave all you want.”

“I’m holding you to that,” he chants before he lets out a haughty snicker that gets muffled instantly when you slam the door on him. 

You throw insults at Ino in your mind, grumbling about how a mere job hopper like him wouldn’t even know the speck of fashion, how you refuse to take advice from someone who wears the same thing every day. There’s nothing wrong with the gray, you think. It’s safe and presentable, ordinary and professional, and you’d much rather blend in than stand out as you believe standing out and making yourself known is just a recipe for trouble. 

Stretching out a hand on the street, you call for a taxi and humbly enter as you smooth out your trousers. The taxi driver eyes you in the rearview mirror with a questioning glint in your eye. “Job interview?” he asks.

“Oh, um,” you nod your head. “Yep! I'm a little nervous, haha.”

“Really?” he says as he gratefully steps on the accelerator a little faster. “Better get you there quick, then. Would hate to have you late. Where are you planning on working?”

“Kaizen Magazine,” you declare confidently, an affirmative look on your face.

“Kaizen?” questions the driver slowly as his eyes go to scan your outfit in the mirror again, his brows raised. “As in the… the fashion magazine?” 

You nod with visible apprehensiveness. You think that maybe you truly were the only person in the world that didn’t know the impact of Kaizen, seeing as how a mere taxi driver even knew about the name and you didn’t up until a few weeks ago. 

“I see…” he mutters. The drive there is a mix of silence and everyday morning conversations, before he pulls up to the building that held the key to your dreams. “Well then, here’s your stop.” 

You let out a little gasp of excitement. “Thank you so much,” you reply as you shove some cash into the slot. 

“Hm, well,” the taxi driver counts the money carefully, barely looking just before you close the door as he mutters, “Good luck, Plain Jane.”

You turn back to the taxi, your hearing a little awry. “Sorry, what was that?”

But when you turn back to the yellow cab, all that’s left is a billow of smoke and cinders. Dazed and confused, you quickly shake those feelings off before you head inside to the building that was now your shining beacon of hope with a determined smile still plastered on your lips. White is the first thing that greets you when you enter the building as it was essentially aired out onto every corner. White marble counters, white tile flooring with white grout, white frames of fashion icons—the white screams pristine and perfection to you and its message went very much noticed. You haven’t even met Geto Suguru yet, but you understood already that he expected nothing but excellence.

You ride up the elevator quietly and alone, trying not to focus on how your anxiety increased with each ding of the passing floors. The elevator screen seems to almost taunt you as it closes in on your doom, the numbers getting closer to the designated floor until it slowly pauses and shone brightly the number 21 in stippled red.

The doors slowly open and the light seeps itself back to your vision, white flooding your senses again. You carry yourself carefully down the hallway whilst taking your time to admire the many framed pictures of past magazines, multiple runway models, and scraps of newspaper articles. One specific piece catches your attention, however; it was large, almost half your body size and framed in a gilded black frame. It was a picture of a mannequin wearing a tawdry gray-black robe with the kanji characters of “summer” painted with purple messily atop. Layered was a loose, but well-fitted piece of thick green and gold cloth that looked much more refined to the messiness of the other materials. 

You stare at it for what seemed to be forever whilst admiring the contrast and beauty of the work before your name is called out.

“(Y/N) (L/N)?”

Your trance breaks from the voice approaching you. You turn to see a short and young woman with dark blue eyes staring at you with a raised brow. “That’s you I presume?” she asks.

“Oh! Uh,” you nod furiously and smooth out your trousers again. “Yes… yes, that’s me. I assume you’re Manami Suda? The one I spoke with on the phone?”

She nods slowly, her eyes going to study your outfit which was a rather stark contrast to her own attire that highlighted an emphasis on shades of opal and navy. Her eyes have a similar glint in the way that Ino’s and the taxi driver’s had, further enunciating the message that your attire was rather… something.

“I see you’ve dressed up for the occasion,” she murmurs. Sarcasm going undetected by you, you grin as a response and think that a compliment from her was a sign you did something right. Her eyes go to rise back and meet yours again before she turns and redirects you to the end of the hallway where some rooms belonging to subordinal editors sat in, clacking away at the computers. There was one singular room that held the only door on the floor and it doesn’t take you long to assume who it belongs to considering the large letters of GS frosted onto the glass.

Two desks stood on each side of the door, one completely devoid of life and decorations. Manami guides you to the empty one and patted the top of it. “This will be yours if you manage to miraculously pass.” 

Manami taps on her clipboard a couple of times, listing off a couple of requirements that you were most likely going to need in the future: efficient time management, ability to fight for what Geto wants, sharp memory, quick feet…

“And uh…” Manami flickers her eyes to you and the details (or lack of, in this case). She mutters under her breath quietly, “... a good wardrobe.”

You turn to her, internally wondering if you were going deaf today. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“A good, warm…” she squints, obviously finding the right word to keep that ignorant smile on your face. “... welcome to start off his day.”

She succeeds in her task as you merely nod with the same blatant grin attached. “Got it!”

Manami tours you around the floor of the office, letting you say hello to your future coworkers that work in the cubicles that send you worried looks behind your back. They obviously seem too pitying of you, knowing that your fate would be sealed as Geto’s potential right hand man the moment you signed that employee contract.  

“This is Human Resources,” Manami gestures over to a room filled with chattering employees who seemed to be getting their gossip out before their day started. “You’ll contact them if you have any—” her phone dings suddenly. Casually, she pulls it out, only for all of her resolve to disappear in an instant. Manami then abruptly blows a whistle with her teeth, alerting everybody in the radius.

“Everybody! His morning facial was canceled!” Manami hollers. “Geto is coming in…” her phone pings again with another notification, and you can tell Manami’s heart instantly drops. “Oh God… he’s in the lobby! Everybody, places! You,” she snags the sleeve of your blazer and drags you along with her, your clunky loafers nearly tripping you. “Come with me.”

Manami takes back to where you first started and orders you to stand in the front of the blank desk with a look that screams both fright and anxiousness all in one. She lists off too many tasks that you need to do before he comes, but you’re so frazzled with trying to remember how to act in front of your future boss that you can’t even remember the first thing she told you. 

“Help me arrange the drafts of the magazines from most recent to least recent before he—”

The elevator dings and all goes quiet; Manami tosses the magazines over her shoulders and positions herself firmly in her place, gesturing for you to do the same. The doors open and unveiled from two bodyguards is a man—a tall man, around six feet or perhaps even taller—dressed in noir fitted pants and a matching button-up closed only halfway to reveal a silk navy turtleneck. Caped behind him is a black velvet trenchcoat that you’re sure is worth half your rent and a watch plated on his wrist that is well over your life savings. He’s slightly sunkissed, with blue-black tresses of hair with a soft bang sneaking through and large plated earrings to match. His eyes, however, show a tint of color—a sharp dark amethyst that you think could cut through you like crystals.

But he’s almost hauntingly attracting—like a spirit. Something about him was an enigma and his aura was nothing less than powerful. 

“Good morning, Geto,” Manami chants with an artificial happiness to her tone.

Geto doesn’t reply, just merely giving a silent blink before he sheds his coat off and tosses it aimlessly towards Manami. It proves to be heavier than anticipated, giving how she fights to groan from the weight of it. He’s handed his briefcase from one of the bodyguards and begins to open the door to his office until he pauses and turns and glances at you, the stranger.

“Hello,” you state with a slight bow. “I-I’m one of the interviewees for your junior assistant. My name is—”

“(Y/N),” Geto murmurs; his voice is soft and low. It’s all knowing, with indigo eyes boring into your own. “(L/N) (Y/N), I know. The one that graduated from Jujutsu University recently, yes?” 

 Adjusting your glasses to wave away the blurriness, you nod with anticipation. “Yes, that’s me.”

Geto turns back and opens the door, to which he only replies back, “In my office.”

You glance at Manami for confirmation, only given back with a jut of her head towards the door. All the unease you felt in the elevator comes hurdling back to you in an instinct and you feel as if you were no more than a peasant to someone that was essentially royalty in the fashion world. 

Geto turns his chair to face away from you, shuffling a few papers over each other that appears to be your resume, before he spins it slowly towards you. He kicks his feet up lazily on his desk. 

“It’s nice to have another Jujutsu alum to join us,” he says. His voice is still the same—a little baritone with a wisping edge of a whisper to it, but it almost sounds… bored. Unamused even. “A bachelors in print journalism… same as mine, hm. Tell me, is Professor Tengen still as loose as ever with their practices?”

You fight to fiddle with your glasses as you watch as Geto tangibly toys with his own, with his focus angled on the papers in front of him rather than you. “Um, I assume so. Though I believe they’re actually retiring this year.”

“Good,” he sighs in what seems to be relief. “Shame that the university had wasted time and money by hiring them. Truly, I hope they can find someone much better suited for their position.”

“Really?” you quietly question. You had only taken their class a few semesters ago and thought despite their rather… all too lenient disposition… you did learn quite a lot in their class. “I thought they were a rather alright teacher…”

Regret pools in your mouth from the moment you have finished your sentence. Geto finally goes to look at you from the edge of his glasses with a sharp look, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. 

“Tengen was merely a sorry excuse for a professor. They were rather nothing but a nanny who gave their students too much leeway,” Geto declares. “Though, I’ll admit, I am pleasantly surprised that you managed to take something out of that class.”

A laugh that’s just dripping with nothing but nervousness leaks out of your lips. “I suppose I had learned just a few things…”

“Mmh,” Geto nod nonchalantly, eyes drawing back to the papers. “Well. Let’s start with the basics. Why exactly do you want to work here?” 

Geto already feels the cliche comments erupting. Had the person in front of him say at least one of them, he was ready to insert the papers he was holding into the nearby shredder. Or maybe out the window this time, he wonders—something nice for a change.

“I was inspired by your work.” 

“It’s been my dream to work at Kaizen.”

“Fashion is my absolute passion.”

“I want to—”

“I’m just in need of a job, really,” you say lifelessly. 

He goes to raise his head slowly from the packet and turns to you slowly. Geto doesn’t say anything, but his facial expressions indicate a blend of confusion and intrigue. A slithering tongue darts out to slick his lips, indicating you’ve piqued his interest. “Well, obviously. But why this job specifically? What about it stood out to you?”

You clear your throat. “I had learned recently that Kaizen is a rather prestigious mag—”

“‘Recently’?” Geto repeats quietly. “You hadn’t heard of us before?” 

Lips thinning, you shake your head slightly. His eyes go narrow again to your dread, serpent-like. “My specialty is more in newspapers rather than magazines, I-I’m not too knowledgeable in that area.”

Geto goes quiet and the silence makes the air go thick. It’s then that familiar glint sparkles in his sullen eyes when they go to examine your choice of clothing—it confirms Ino was truly right in the end, as he lets out a smile-less chuckle that doesn’t do much to ease your brain. 

“Continue,” Geto gestures and takes off his glasses to look at you, or you suppose your outfit, more properly. He folds his hands and places his chin on top of them. “You said you only learned about us not too long ago?”

“Yes, and I realized that perhaps working here for a while would, at least I hope, grant me access to other media houses,” you explain. It’s only then you realize that your declaration sounds absolutely ludicrous and almost disrespectful to the editor-in-chief of the most iconic fashion magazine in the nation. “Connections are quite powerful in this day and age, haha…”

“I suppose,” Geto mumbles with not much interest in your poor humor. “What about me? I do hate bragging but surely, you know about my name or at least my fashion line?”

Your hesitant countenance and silence tells Geto all he needs to know. He thinks that it’s almost some sort of marvel that no one has heard of him or his works before.

He sighs. “Do you have any experience working in any fashion-related activities at least?”

“Well, I once worked in a department store for a few months back in high school,” you say thoughtfully (and ignorantly).

Geto gives you a blank look. His blinks are apathetically slow.

“Um,” you clear your throat again and shake your head, timid. “N-no…”

“Then tell me,” he continues smoothly. “Why exactly should I hire you? You obviously have no taste in fashion and you hadn’t even heard of my name, let alone my magazine, until recently. What is there within that makes you want to work here other than you just… what was it that you said?” He air-quotes mockingly, “‘needing a job?’”

Your throat runs dry and limbs go stiff. A heat rockets to your face when you seemingly can’t get any words out to excuse yourself, much too caught up in the same of your ignorance towards Geto’s profession. And that’s all the response he needs to make his decision. 

His hand takes the packet again and to your horror that you fight to keep in, inserts it into the paper shredder. The groan of it rumbles through the room agonizingly and you realize that Ino is going to have the time of your life planning your doomsday. 

Geto gives you the mercy of breaking the thick silence first. “You may go.” 

With a swift flick of his wrist, Geto dismisses you with a slight edge to his murmuring as he puts back on his glasses to examine the morning newspaper to not waste any more incessant time in the day. 

You don’t even attempt to fight back with any poor excuses. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, the sting of them frustrating you to your wits end. Instead, you gather the last of your resolve and bid him through a strained throat good day and make your leave, humiliation and disappointment trailing not too far behind. 

You hope that Ino will give a nice eulogy, at least.

Out of all the miracles that await you in life, you do not expect the one that comes in the form of an early morning phone call that wakes you at the ass-crack of dawn. When you pick it up with sleep still very much embedded in your eyes, it dissipates in the instant you hear Manami’s voice. It’s only then that it hits you why on earth she was calling so early and why she was demanding to know your whereabouts, claiming you were going to be late on your first day of work. 

You think it’s some sort of cruel joke maneuvered by Ino, especially with how his comforts from last night were mixed with taunts. But when Manami’s voice finally registers in your brain, by some sort of miracle or stroke of luck, you have gotten the job as Geto Suguru’s junior assistant. 

You don’t know how, but you don’t waste any time questioning how on earth you landed in such a position because you leap out of bed at 7:23 a.m. and manage to do your morning routine in the matter of what you think is a record-breaking fifteen minutes. Your ruckus manages to wake up deep-sleeping Ino, who, when you excitedly tell him to postpone your funeral, gives a groggy thumbs up before drooling back into his pillow. It’s 7:38 a.m. when you shove on your shabby coat and you realize you only have a mere twenty-two minutes left until you have to officially clock in for work. 

At 7:40, you’re out the door and sprinting to the located coffee shop that thankfully wasn’t too far from where you lived.

At 7:47, you’re at the designated cafe whilst attempting to swim through the crowds of morning bustlers to pick up Geto’s coffee.

7:50, you’re sticking your hand out waving desperately for a taxi and tip extra to make the driver speed through as you attempt to make sure the coffees don’t spill out of their containers.

7:58, you arrive at the building and just barely make it into the narrow gap of a tight-fitting elevator, earning stares from the others from your rather… frazzled appearance.

At 8:02 a.m., you dash out the elevator and officially clock in for your first day at work at Kaizen Magazine amidst a birdnest of hair, clothes that were plucked out of your hamper, and what you pray to the heavens above are hefty layers of deodorant and perfume since you were given no time to shower.

When Geto comes in that day, all suave and composed, he takes one good look at you before sighing and focusing his attention to the more refined Manami and lets her take the gears for the day. The only attention he gives you that morning is the rough toss of his heavy coat—a cashmere pearl peacoat today—flung at your arms that nearly makes you tumble from its weight.

You quickly learn that working for Geto requires high demand and maintenance, as he is not one to skip over any details in his day. Not even three hours in your first day, you already have to plan out his future meetings, reschedule one with a rather feisty and insistent client, edit a forest of emails, finishing by dashing out five blocks on foot to the two michelin star restaurant to retrieve Geto’s weekly steak for lunch. Had this been your old corporate job, you only would’ve gotten half the tasks you had completed by the end of the usual eight hours, but you realized early on that you had barely scratched the surface of your future in Kaizen.

You think that after plating his steak with the shakiest of hands, you finally have time to relax during lunch time when you see the small hand of the clock finally hit 12:00 p.m. , especially since you and him were left alone in his part of the office together. But the moment that Geto saunters into the office again, he tends to you once again with a final task by himself.

“(Y/N),” he calls from the office, the scrape of his fork against ceramic cluttering your ears agonizingly. 

You fight the urge to cringe from the sound as you scurry to the doorframe, hands stiffly intertwined together. “Yes, Mr. Geto?”

“No need for such formalities,” he remarks with the dab of a napkin to his lips. “They make me feel old, and I’m surely not much older than you are…” you think that’s the longest he’s spoken to you since the day had started. “Did Leibovitz confirm?”

Blinking, you tilt your head ignorantly. “D-did who confirm?”

He pauses and does that taunting slow rise of his eyes from his steak to you. “Leibovitz. Did she confirm?”

Silence fills the office, much like the silence that drowned you back at the interview. He clicks his tongue and dismisses you with a disappointed shake of his head. “Just go on your lunch,” he mutters, sighing.

Manami, the savior that she is, is called into the office after her break and is asked the same task and you watch with humiliation whilst packing your things to go on your lunch as she picks up the telephone and speaks to someone over the line before confirming to Geto that, “I’ve got Annie!”

“He hates me, Taku!” you cry out whilst flopping onto the dinner table. It’s ten in the evening and you’ve just come home after what was supposed to be an 8-5 shift. You suppose you should be used to this already after two months of working for the Lucifer donned ritually in white in the building, but you don’t know how much your sanity (and body) can take. 

Normally, Geto is usually cold to those who he wasn’t familiar with, but you think that his distaste for you sours everyday. You notice that he’s beginning to pile you with the more urgent and busier duties and that he often stares you down more menacingly in the morning with those piercing purple eyes of his, like you were gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe. You thought it was just him being normal Geto Suguru, the man with the expectations higher than the clouds, and that you just were still adjusting to such a high-intensity environment, but it was today that your world came crumbling down when you overheard him muttering to his associates about you, tone icier than ever.

You were on the other side of the door, a fist going to rap on the glass with the other holding his afternoon coffee pick-me-up when you heard it.

“... can’t even do the most miniscule things right,” Geto had groaned. “I ask if Lanvin’s models are all good to go for next Thursday’s shoot and somehow, they have the nerve to ask ‘How do you spell Lanvin’? For fuck’s sake, I can feel my goddamn conscious just wither away by the second.”

You hadn’t heard Geto swear since you had started working there, but something about his venomous tone enunciating such words had made your blood run cold from the other side of the door. Not having the courage to face him after that, you left his coffee on Manami’s desk for her to tend to with a post-it note saying a sorry excuse for yourself before letting your eyes sob frustratingly in the bathroom, isolated from others.

The last time you had cried that hard was way back in childhood, where you had broken your arm from falling down a tree branch. But you think that Geto’s words had twisted through your skin and bone much harsher than that pain ever will. 

“It’s a miracle how I haven’t been fired yet… I don’t even know why he hired me!” you wail.

Ino sighs from across the dinner table and you can’t tell if it’s a sigh of pity or a sigh of criticism. You learn that it’s both when he rolls his eyes at you whilst simultaneously pushing a plate of much needed food towards you. 

“First off, you need to eat,” he presses, staring at your gaunt features. “The way your face is swallowing is making me feel like I’m living’ with a ghost. You’ve lost some weight, I’ve noticed.”

Awareingly, you touch your cheekbones and realize he’s right, for you feel the small disc of sharpness from them prick your fingertips. They’ve never been so cavern before. You suppose it’s because of the lack of proper meal time between your days and how you often eat small and very late dinners back at home, truly not enough needed fuel for you.

“Secondly,” Ino chews his tongue, wondering if he should really say what he’s about to say because of your current disposition but goes through with it anyway. He might as well rip the bandaid off now to let more time for the wound to heal. “You won’t like what I’m ‘bout to say, but you need to up your game. Severely.”

An aching body rises up from the table. You go to stare at Ino through glazed eyes and a pouty lip, asking him what he meant.

“Ah nope! Don’t give me that face and don’t play coy with me,” he hisses, looking away to not give in to your helpless puppy eyes. He can’t—he shouldn’t give you the easy way out and just say to quit—not when you’ve been earning so much bank that rent isn’t a problem for either of you anymore. He wonders, though, for a moment if so much money is worth your rationality.

He drags a hand down his face before placing his chin on it, examining your haggard appearance. “What I mean is that you need to see through Geto’s eyes. See what he sees when he looks at you. Tell me, if you had an assistant that showed up wearing things that looked like they were plucked from the clearance bin at a thrift store and didn’t show any respect for your brand, which just so happens to be a fashion magazine out of all things…” Ino eyes you with a raised brow. “You startin’ to follow me?”

Your fingers fiddle with each other. “... sorta.”

“Now listen,” he raises his hands up lazily in surrender. “I already know what you’re ‘bout to say about me not knowing’ how to dress in shit other than black and more black, but even I know that you should put in more effort into your appearance. That’s the first step.”

“But I have—!” you exclaim helplessly, “I-I swear, I’ve been trying to… but it’s not my fault that it isn’t up to his standards.”

Your roommate groans and rubs his forehead, not really knowing what else to do for your situation until an idea pops in his head. “Free up your weekend,” he demands with a sly grin that makes you a little uneasy. “I’m no fashion connoisseur, but you know who is?”

“And remember, we never touch anything with chevron on it, especially in today’s fashion world,” Yuki chimes as she slaps on a navy blue pageboy cap on your head and she prances about your bedroom that’s been littered with spare clothes from her very own closet she graciously gifted to you for the past weekend. “I’m so utterly relieved that the trend has dug its own grave.”

The past weekend had been filled with endless shopping trips and you shuffling in and out of clothes every minute, practicing how to pair items and colors together by Yuki’s teachings. Of course you should’ve known that Ino was going to contact the one person that he was within reach that was essentially a walking encyclopedia when it came to fashion. You’ve met Tsukumo Yuki before, found her to be quite delightful even, but you never anticipated she would be this giddy, especially about clothes of all things.

And she used her brain to good use for not only clothes, but the entirety of yourself. You never knew how much just a simple haircut could do your face along with small hints of makeup to emphasize the best parts of it. Dared not your hands go to a lash curler, but here you are now, making sure your powder compact and lipstick for the day was in your bag before you went out. 

“Uh, I don’t think I ever mentioned this before yet, but thank you for helping my wardrobe out, it really means a lot,” you say just before she slides on a pair of gold bangles on your wrist. “Are you sure you wanna give these clothes to me? I’m okay with just borrowing them.” 

“Nonsense, babe,” she wavers off before shuffling through your now-hearty closet, a closet that’s now bursting with many clothes given by her. “I needed space in my closet anyway, so take as much as you need.”

So (Y/N)’s closet is basically her trash can, a particular shaggy brunette thinks with a roll of his eyes. Ino fiddles with the piece of toast in his mouth as he leans on the doorway, watching as Yuki essentially treats you like her very own Barbie doll at such an odd morning hour. 

“(Y/N)’s not a doll, Yuki,” Ino lazily calls aloud through a tired yawn. “You better get ‘em out the door soon or else they’ll get late for work. Especially need that money since the landlord’s been on our ass about increasing our rent…” he mutters, sniffing. “Damn bastard.”

She snaps at Ino to be quiet and let her work before she shuffles on a regal blue overcoat over your shoulders that completes your look. When you look at yourself finally in the mirror, you almost think there’s a stranger in your house from the way you look so dignified compared to the you just three days ago. It’s a simple outfit with not much layering, but it’s still enough to ooze charisma and elegance to wandering eyes. You’re adorned in a white weaved sweater with flared, light-wash jeans and white boots to match. Over the outfit lies the coat that drapes almost like a king’s mantle behind you and the pageboy cap as your crown.

Yuki creeps up behind you, her manicured hands on your shoulders affirmingly. “How’re you feeling, hun?” she asks quietly as she shares the same sight with you in the mirror. “Don’t you look wonderful?”

You know that it was all her work, it was all her creativity that made you into the artwork that you are now, so breathlessly laugh with a smile on your painted lips and thank her quietly once more before whispering, “Yeah… yeah, I do.”

Her eyes study you for another minute, going to stare at the glasses still atop your face. Yes, they were new and much more modern considering she quite literally called your old pair atrocious, snapped them in half, and tossed them over her shoulder, but she was still quite dissatisfied when you told her about your hesitance about using contacts. “Are you sure you don’t want to give contacts another chance?” she sighs. 

You shake your head with a small smile, “I’ll feel completely naked without them,” you murmur, “Besides, I think they actually compliment this look, if I’m being honest.”

Her lips stretch out into a grin, too absorbed in her fashion education finally being used. 

“Well then!” she begins to drag you by the sleeve out your room. “We wouldn’t want you to be late then for your first day as the new you, right? Let’s get you a cab!”

Somehow, you think you really are at your first day at work again from the way you feel that same fluttering in your stomach and from how the people you’ve once grown accustomed to seeing in the early mornings are not merely passing you with mundane nods of their heads but instead, greeting you with wide-eyed gawks and open-mouthed smiles. Some of them, a few who you knew but never spoke a word to, even do a double take and compliment you aloud on the new look. Even the cute barista in the lobby that never bothered to spell your name right at last did after finally taking a good look at the holder of the card.

When you exit out of the elevator, Manami nearly drops the pile of magazines she’s holding when she spots a refined and refreshed you. You offer a bright smile to her and you watch as her gasp slowly forms into an affirmative grin when you round your desk.

She laughs softly. “And who might you be?” she asks with a tease in her voice. “‘Cause last time I checked, that’s my coworker (Y/N)’s desk.”

“I murdered them,” you shrug nonchalantly, earning another chuckle from her. You take it as a good sign, great even, considering up until now, Manami had been rather stoic and a little indifferent towards you because of your amateurism; but now, you suppose that ditching that Plain Jane from just two days ago is finally beginning to do you good by finally grounding a proper relationship with her. “Shame, isn’t it? Poor thing.”

“Truly,” she nods. Her eyes trail further down until they spot something that makes her gasp. “Don’t tell me those are—”

“—the new calfskin gold studded Louboutin boots?” you finish for her. You flex your ankle and show off the ravishing red bottoms of your shoes. “Oh yeah.”

Manami squeals in excitement and rushes over to your desk, begging to take a look at them. “How on earth did you manage to get your hands on these?! I’ve been looking for them fo—”

The elevator dings again but with a tone that makes you and Manami flinch. Both of you stiffen and straighten out your posture, falling into a thick silence when out comes Geto traipsing out like he usually did—his aura being nothing less than dominating. You and Manami chime out in sync a good morning to him as he saunters towards his office as he begins to shuffle off his coat as usual to toss to you until he looks up and catches you in his field of vision.

He stops all of a sudden with his eyes dancing about your figure, a stark contrast to the rest of his paralyzed body. Geto’s lips thin all of a sudden, and so do his eyes when they scan your outfit. He takes in a sharp breath and opens his mouth to say something to you, yet nothing comes out, even as your eyes glisten with anticipation.

It merely instead zips itself close and he finally whisks himself into his office, coat still on and briefcase still in hand, and slams the door shut. 

But not without glancing at you one last time.

Much has changed in the past month for the better.

Yuki was a godsend—she had been your guardian angel, your fairy godmother of sorts—because you swore your career life had taken a complete 180° the moment your closet was revamped. Ever since that makeover, you had felt so much more confident in your actions, so much lighter on your feet. The price of your efforts was beginning to pay off as well, as Geto began to slowly thaw his icier sense of self when you began to actually put effort into your appearance. His thrusts of his coat towards you began to become less aggressive, was significantly more lenient when it came to more of the impossible tasks, and had at one time actually muttered a ‘good morning’ to you and Manami after months of greeting with silence and judgemental glances.

She’d occasionally check up on you every once in a while, usually to offer new clothes that she didn’t want anymore. And by offer, it actually just meant packing them in a box from her place to yours with a post-it that’d usually read “With love, YT ❤” in neat cursive. Along with forming a close bond with Yuki, your relationship with Manami improved significantly, especially when you gave her those white Louboutins she was eyeing. She often invited you to lunch with her other friends, Larue and Remi. 

The iconic John Galliano once said that, “The joy of dressing is an art.” A month ago, you would’ve never believed what you would think is a rather tacky statement, but now, you can truly see it to believe it. It never occurred to you to actually look at your surroundings closely, but you often would sometimes take a few seconds out of your day to admire the many colors and materials that would adorn your coworkers. Whether it be admiration for their sense of style or mild jealousy over luxurious pieces, you were finally understanding what makes fashion, fashion.

And your epiphany was awarded today with the task that you thought would never come into the light of your days working for Geto—being tasked with dropping off The Book.

The Book was a collection of pieces that were needed for the upcoming edition of the magazine, regarding it as being the most important item in the entire company. It was a duty that usually Manami tended to, but she hypothesized that you managed to finally get on Geto’s good side after a while and congratulated you. Manami spoke to you briefly about how trivial The Book was to both Geto and Kaizen. She told you about how you must guard it and Geto’s key to his penthouse with your life, and that you were to remain absolutely invisible to him if he was in the apartment. Manami told you because it was usually the hour he needed most concentration—it was during the later hours of the day that he usually mended last minute edits to the edition or he was working on his latest fashion collection since he was only able to work on it during the weekends as Kaizen took too much of his time.

Manami told you he would most likely be found on the second floor of his penthouse, and you were to remain on the first floor at all costs. 

“The editors will finish The Book around 10:30 or 11:00 at night, wait in the office until then. Then, drop the book off at his penthouse at no later than 11:30 with his dry cleaning, too.”

Her words echo in your mind as you tiptoe out of the cab and look up to see a gleaming, glamorous building sitting in the heart of the city. It’s one you’ve passed a plenty of times—hell, you pass it on your way to work—but it never occurred to you that it’d be this antique white, Parisian-styled building that would be the abode of your boss. 

“Take the elevator to the top floor and enter his apartment. Do not call out his name, don’t wander around, don’t even make a single sound. You are nothing more than a ghost when you step foot into his house.”

The only doors that are on the very top floor of the apartment complex are two large metal doors that sit before you. You enter the key into the keyhole and push them open with controlled force, closing them as quietly as possible with Manami’s whispers still floating about your head. You knew that Geto was certainly a man of luxury, but to see that wealth exempt in a form other than fashion was a sight that you weren’t sure if your eyes deserved to feast on. Sculptures and paintings decorated the foyer and hallway, adding occasional splashes of color to the ivory-adorned apartment. After hanging the dry cleaning in the designated coat closet, the first room you enter - and perhaps the only one you’ll ever be in - is the said living room with the glass coffee table sitting in the center of it.

“Place The Book on the coffee table in the living room. That’s it. Do not toddle any longer in his house and get out immediately. Don’t let curiosity get the better of you and just simply go afterwards. It’s for your own good.”

But oh, how curiosity is just a little devil of temptation that sits far too easily on your shoulder. A house holds the most of a person, and Geto is just an all too mysterious enigma for you not to at least dip your toe in. The doors at the end of the hallway are waiting for you, but so are the picture frames that sit atop the TV stand. You suppose… maybe another minute wouldn’t hurt.

Your feet carry you slowly to the stand and you crouch, adjusting your glasses to get a better look at the pictures. There’s only two of them—six by fours, both in oak brown frames. The first one is a picture of a smiling young girl with short chestnut hair sporting a smile with a cigarette between her teeth. Beside her are two boys taller than her, both making similar faces at the camera. One of them, the one that’s a little taller with silvery snow hair and opaque black sunglasses, throwing a forced, all-too wide grin that almost looks maniacal. It doesn’t require much brain power to know the other figure in the photo is a younger Geto Suguru, his hair shorter in a tight bun with a rare, but soft grin on his face, his gaze affectionate to the others.

The other picture is of the same two boys arm in arm with each other. Both of them are grinning now, with the white haired boy still smiling a little more largely than the other. It doesn’t take long for you to assume who the other boy was considering that the shade of purple sheathing his twinkling eyes is unique to only one individual in your life. 

Best friends, you suggest in your mind as you study the pictures a little longer than needed. A minute, you thought, wouldn’t do much harm, but how utterly wrong your thoughts prove when you suddenly hear the slam of a door from the floor above. The crash of it makes you yelp and breaks you out of your trance from the pictures and your gaze suddenly snaps to the open stairs above you, as well as two voices echoing aloud. 

“Y-you can’t—” an unknown voice wheezes. “I’ve been your muse for years. You possibly can’t just abandon me out of nowhere…”

“You say that as if I’m not doing that right now,” a familiar one replies back boredly. It’s Geto, and his voice makes your nerves electrify in fear because it’s in that moment that you remember that you can’t get caught inside of his house. “This is the last time I’m telling you, Shigemo. Get out.”

The man that you assume is Shigemo heaves heavy breaths. “You need me,” he declares.

“Needed. Past tense,” Geto corrects as he almost forces Shigemo down the stairs with an invisible force surrounding him. You can see their figures above you, Shigemo slowly stepping backwards with each step Geto takes forward. “You’ve done me well these few years, I admit, and I do thank you for that. But I suppose your expiration date has finally come.”

“I’m not a food,” Shigemo snivels. “I’m a person. Most importantly. I’m the reason your fashion line flourished, I was the inspiration for almost all your works. We’re essentially a team.”

They’re towards the end of the staircase, towards where you are still present in plain sight. Your eyes scatter about a place to hide in the meantime, but there are seemingly no places to hide that would hide you well without the notice of Geto’s eyes.

“A team?” Geto barks out a sarcastic laugh, one that makes shivers run down your spine from both the rarity of the sound and how utterly intimidating it is. “I work alone and I always have. There is no point on relying on anyone of any kind when my independence obviously pays off.”

“Who will you have then?” Shigemo retaliates with a whimper in his voice. “You know that I’m the only one that will tolerate you. It’s not like you can go crawling to Goj—“

“Finish that sentence and see what happens,” Geto hisses, causing the other man to fall into a forced silence.

Your eyes finally land on the small space between the fireplace and a pillar. It’s a space large enough for you to fill and efficient enough to hide you from sight. Unsticking your feet from the ground, you make a run for the small space, only for you to forget about the obstacle that was the ottoman sitting spitefully on the floor.

The thud that comes from your body almost rivals the volume of the door slamming open moments earlier and just like the door, it attracts unneeded attention. Geto and Shigemo stop their bickering for a moment to search for the cause of the sound, only to see you humiliatingly face first on the floor. Geto narrows his eyes at the sight of you, an unwanted visitor in his home. 

A pained groan slips from your lips accidentally. You silently curse yourself for not taking the time to properly break into the tantalizing loafers Yuki bought you the day prior and wince at the pain blooming from your knees and chest. When you finally get up, you can’t help but notice that everything around you seems rather… hazy.

“Who is that…” Shigemo mutters.

Geto bites back a sigh and instead, pinches the bridge of his nose. He supposes that despite your improved mannerisms, your clumsiness still has yet to dissipate. Annoyed, he grunts out, “One of my new assistants.”

Shaking his head, Geto decides to deal with you later. His home is already suffocated with one individual, he doesn’t need another clogging the atmosphere up. He returns his attention back to Shigemo. “I thought I told you to leave,” he states, shoving his bag towards him.

Shigemo’s face paints a horrified expression once again. “Geto, please rethink this,” Shigemo pleads. 

He lets out a chain of pleads and excuses for himself as Geto essentially escorts him out with just walking towards him, his face still icy. Shigemo ends up on the other side of the door to his penthouse and it’s there where his patheticness exudes the most—he falls on his hands and knees like a beggar, claiming he’d do anything and everything just to be by his side. 

But his voice is suddenly cut short when Geto finally slams the door in his face, the thickness of them guarding him from Shigemo’s whines. He lets out another sigh and locks up the door securely before dealing with the other parasite in his house.

“I don’t think dropping off a book should take longer than thirty seconds,” Geto drawls as he saunters towards the living room, where you’re still on all fours on the floor, your hands tapping around. “So tell me, why are you still here?”

At the sound of his sharp tone, you freeze. You’re sure you looked utterly stupid and a mess right now, considering that you had just lost a fight to an ottoman out of all things, but you couldn’t let Geto see you in such a state. It didn’t take you long to realize that the reason why everything around you looked so blurry was because of your now-missing glasses that you attempted to look around for. But you pulled a Velma, and just like her, you can’t see without your glasses.

Everyone thinks it’s an exaggeration when you state that you felt utterly naked without them, but you truly did. You’ve been wearing glasses ever since childhood and you really didn’t appreciate the looks you had gotten when you were younger when at times you’d take them off. Some complained that your eyes were too small, too big—others mentioned you looked “off” and “weird” without them. Either way, comments from the other children stuck with you like scars, and ever since then, you refused to be seen without them. 

“I a-apologize,” you stutter, shuffling your body to hide behind the recliner so Geto wouldn’t see how much of a clutter you are. You’ve humiliated yourself too much already in the office and the last thing you truly need is for you to get fired merely because your curiosity got the better of you. “I was about to head out and th-then I heard your voice from upstairs and—”

Your words fall deaf on Geto’s ears. He lets out another groan while stretching the aching muscles in his neck as he closes in on your disorderedness. A hand goes to shield your face—you don’t want him to see the bareness of your face, especially since you didn’t bother wearing makeup today. You can’t even bear the thought of him looking at it. In a rushed state, you wander around for your glasses with your head tucked in, using the remnants of your hair to curtain your face.

A jumble of excuses tumble out of your quivering lip, but Geto is too preoccupied with the gleam of something catching his eye. Laying flat on the floor are a pair of glasses that doesn’t take Geto long to presume who they belong to. He plucks them from the ground and examines them for a brief moment before holding them above you. 

“I assume these are yours,” he asserts with a cocked brow.

Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice directly right above you and through your foggy field of vision is the seraphic figure of Geto holding what seems to be your glasses. Lips escaping a relieved gasp, you hurriedly scramble to your feet. Your eyes are too poor to see it properly, but Geto also shares surprise, but for an entirely different reason.

He doesn’t give you the sanity that is your glasses right away, because he’s much too preoccupied studying your face. It’s so… fresh. Your glasses were hiding such a view, like curtains to a window that unveiled the utmost rare and breathtaking sights. The way your eyes are wide open, pupils blown with a touch of singularity makes him even more intrigued because of how they’re uniquely placed onto your face along with the rest of your features. Your lips, plump with a natural sheen to them—your cheekbones, perfectly rounded. The slope of your nose fell just right. Geto studies it like an artist to a blank canvas, devoid of anything yet holding just the perfect amount of space—wanting, waiting to be filled with anything and everything.

When his eyes stare at you in what seems to be bewilderment, you swallow thickly and look away. But you can only glance at your surroundings for less than a second before Geto takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning your face toward him again. It’s then that you realize that Geto isn’t staring at you, but your face as a whole. His eyes flick with small movements, dancing about as they go from eyebrow to lips, freckle to lash, examining each and every single particle that your face has to offer.

You feel a heat creep onto your cheeks. You’re not sure whether it’s because of the closeness you and him share or the fact that you can’t detect his opinions on the one thing you’ve been disclosed about for years, but either way, you feel weak in the knees; it only worsens when Geto’s thumb brushes over the entirety of your bottom lip, feeling the plushness of it on his the pad of his finger.

“Has your face always been this open…?” he murmurs softly as he studies the various angles of your face. 

You aren’t sure whether it’s a compliment or insult, either or neither. Geto’s tone always had a sort of bleakness to it, but in this very moment, you truly can’t tell what he’s thinking. 

“My glasses…” is all you manage to squeak out, fighting the urge to squirm in his grasp. Another gulp goes down your dry throat when Geto’s face contorts to an irritated confusion before he realizes his other hand holds the one thing dear to your heart. 

“Oh,” he mutters and hands them back to you. His opposing hand finally goes to release your face. “Right.”

Shaking hands go to put them back onto your face again. Sighing internally of relief of your now crystal-clear surroundings, you dust yourself off with your head once more, tucked into your chest. 

“I’m so sorry for this,” you whisper. The heat on your face has now spread to the entirety of your body, your nerves alight with the rush of adrenaline. “I-I’ll make sure this never happens again… good night.”

With that, you scurry yourself out before Geto has the chance to falter. All words to urge you to stay to either scold you or excuse you evaporate on his tongue. He can only watch in a strange silence as your figure rushes down the hall and out the doors, the click of them ringing out in his penthouse.

After moments of self-paralysis, an unknown feeling boils inside the pit of Geto’s stomach. He thinks he’s seen your face before with the familiarity of it unsettling him. The ghost of your face prances about in his mind as he slowly climbs the stairs to his sewing room, ignoring the shattered wine glass on the floor thrown by Shigemo. He instead, refills his own glass again with the nearby bottle of merlot wine and savoring the thickness of it running down his dry throat, embellishing in its warmth.

A single, large window faces the busy nighttime street and Geto walks and stills near it, watching carefully as the speck of your figure on the street below calls for a cab. He eyes how you turn towards the building one more time, doing your usual adjustment of your glasses (it’s a habit you often do in times of nervousness, he’s picked up) before you shuffle yourself into a cab that speeds off into the night.

Geto lets out an annoyed click of his tongue. Something about your face seems haunting and he doesn’t enjoy it. The last thing that he needed for today was even more plaguing thoughts in his head after the loss of his muse not even just ten minutes ago, but now with your face staining the back of his head, his jaw grits in irritation. In a poor attempt to take his mind off the excursion of today and the future, he shuffles about his many sketchbooks to look for any designs he could pluck out for his latest collection. 

It’s an hour in, two glasses of wine later, and somehow, he still hasn’t found a single piece to begin working on that fits into his theme. Miraculously, through the vast array of what is thought to be thousands of sketches, Geto hasn’t found one that stood out to him until he gets to the last sketchbook. It’s an early one—he thinks it dates back to his early college days, when he was just beginning to peek into the world of fashion. A pang of nostalgia hits him all of a sudden when he flips to a specific page that was the start of his history.

It’s the very design that had the attention of many designers. The sketch featured a gold and red embellished outfit, a sheen of glittering flickers adorning it. The shirt features a mosaic of gold and small flecks of color here and there, imitating the many church mosaics he’d often admired as a child. The skirt and collar of the shirt were the same shade of blood red, crimson gems bespeckling them. 

It’s not the outfit, however, that makes his eyes harden. Why would it? He’s seen it many times before. It’s been brought up over and over again—in interviews, in magazines. It’s one of the staples that made Geto the pillar that he is. He knows every detail of it, much like his other designs, so it isn’t the design of the outfit that made him appalled. It’s instead, the person that’s wearing it. 

Because somehow, the eerie sketch of the model’s face that he had drawn years ago…

… somehow replicates your own face perfectly.

a/n: first jjk fic in forever! wowie it's been much too long... also if u need a refresher on who shigemo is, he's the guy with the ponytail that nanami pulled kekeke

10.2k is hefty i know but i couldn't help myself my bad lolol T_T currently just a test run of what i hope to be is a series that some may be interested in because clearly this barely scratches the surface of what i want to embed haha so please let me know how you like it so far :))

continuing, i hope you enjoyed and thank you for taking time out of your day to enjoy my craft, whether it be your first time or your hundredth! once more, likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and are always appreciated (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ !!!

[lueurjun]

guitarist boyfriend! jay

popstar!reader x guitarist boyfriend jay! in which you’re supplied with a new guitarist who just so happens to end up falling hopelessly in love with you. a/n—if this is bad, don’t blame me. it was a spur of the moment spark of motivation.

gather around and hold hands because this is everything to me

YOU GUYS are everything to me

that micheal scott meme where he’s holding jim and pam’s hands… that’s what it looks like. me holding you guys by the hands because i just love u both so much. i am apart of this relationship. i am the captain of this ship. the leader of- okay you get it

guitarist jay and his global popstar partner?? stop before i cry

okay ! let’s get started with how you guys came to be

it all started because your guitarist decided to seize an opportunity to permanently work for another pop star

traitor. i’ll set them on fire. ( for legal reasons that’s a joke ).

and you’re all for new opportunities and such but they happened to leave smack bang in the middle of your world tour

three hours before your concert

someone hand me a lighter rn-

so not only are you set to perform in front of a sold out stadium, in a country you’re not too familiar with, but you’re left with no guitarist either

cue the emotional meltdown backstage with all your stylists and staff around trying to calm you down

imagine you’re filming a documentary and they put in the scene where you’re sat on the floor just sobbing whilst people rush around you- the way i’d sue my own team

anyways lucky for you, yang jungwon is on your team — and he has a friend who has exceptional talent on the guitar, who also happens to be in the area

how convenient, it’s almost like this was written in the stars

jay arrives but he doesn’t even get to say hi to you before he’s carted off by your manager to be coached for the performance

so you really only saw the back of his head through teary eyes

but according to your stylist, he’s one hell of a babe

stylist is me btw lemme wipe away your tears. come here, pretty

you take their word for it and just try to mentally prepare for the concert ahead after the shock of being blindsided

it’s not until 5 minutes before you go on that you officially get to meet jay

and suddenly the concept of workplace crushes makes sense to you because bro looks like he’s just stepped out of a vogue magazine

models should be thankful he picked the idol industry

he looks super nervous as he shakes your hand, he’s all jittery and it makes your heart swell

of course, he’s polite as ever as he compliments your work and all that you do and expresses how much of an honour it is to play for you

he’s laying it on thick but i would too if i was in your presence tbh- you’re everything embedded in gold

there’s not much time for conversation before the pair of you are being ushered into position, but you catch the wink he gives you before he stalks away with the rest of the band

and you certainly don’t miss the knowing grin you receive from your drummer, sunoo

suddenly, you’re taking deep breaths to ease your pounding heart which is going crazy

not because of the thousands that are about to watch you perform live, but because of the small interaction you just shared with jay

oh you are so cooked- but personally, if i was jay, i’d never wash my hand again after shaking yours

anyways the performance goes smoothly, and jay excels just as jungwon said he would

you were surprised at how easy it was for him to get into the swing of things

and your fans seemed to love the new addition given ‘y/n’s guitarist’ trends on twitter afterwards

needless to say, concert one with jay is a great success so much so that he secures a permanent spot as your brand new guitarist

yesss bros getting a major bag and YOU? he’s living the dream fr

as the shows progress, you and jay seem to gravitate closer both on stage and off

if you’re not hanging out constantly, then you’re sharing winks and subtle glances across the stage whilst you’re performing

and as expected: a ship begins to set sail

your fans are begging for it to happen. your friends are begging for it to happen.

i’m begging for it to happen

and finally, it does.

jay bites the bullet and asks you out on a date

what’s the worst that can happen? you say no, oh wow-

we’re on a floating rock lovelies. shoot your shot 🫨

luckily for jay, you didn’t say no. in fact, you were more than delighted to say yes

onto the relationship because this is so long, i always do this

right off the bat he is OBSESSED with you

but would he swim across the ocean to get to you? i would. i would, y/n.

heart eyes constantly

so much so that fans literally have 30 min compilations on youtube of him just staring at you as though you were an aurora dancing across the sky

blowing kisses at him as you’re performing

alexa play that should be me

your discography is so shamelessly dedicated to him

everyone eats it up

iconic paparazzi photos

jay having you sat on his lap to teach you the guitar and him leaving gentle kisses against the nape of your neck

sighhhhh genuinely why do i do this to myself? someone take over because i am DEPRESSED

if you’re already able to play guitar, i can see the pair of you doing a little duet where you just stare at each other all 😍😍 whilst playing at each other

wearing one of his picks on a necklace

him having your name written on his guitar

also you get special treatment and your band members make sure you know it

“i moved his guitar out of the way so it didn’t get trampled on and he grabbed sunoo’s drum stick and threatened to shove it down my throat but you touch it and all of a sudden roses grow from his eyes? disgusting.”

sunghoon has had enough

yapping about him during interviews with the brightest smile on your face

this would be me as a celeb- i would not be able to keep my life private i’m a certified yapper

if you want to go for the more private approach

subtle exchanges on stage

it would be like private but not secret

cuddles backstage !!!

being seen wearing each others tour jackets when leaving the venue

crawling into his bunk on the tour bus late at night after everyone has fallen asleep but also being the last to wake up so everyone knows you’re in there anyway

him shielding your face from all the flashes of the camera

protective jay is everything to me.

he’ll definitely be your plus one to any event

and the two of you absolutely steal the show every single time

he also supplies your fandom with memes of you and they thank him for it

i better stop here because i’m getting too carried away shsjsjsk and i’m pretty sure i strayed off the prompt 😭

overall, you and jay? dream couple ☁️🤍

[gem-femmes]

Insider Secrets: The Truth About "Old Money" Style and Breaking Into Elite Circles

As someone close to to “old money” and “new money” in Europe, I’ve learned a few secrets that I can share with you, especially if you’re trying to navigate these circles.

The trend of “old money” or “quiet luxury” style is everywhere these days. Ladies are flocking to this understated, elegant look, thinking it’s the golden ticket to penetrate old money/HNWI social circles, often driven by the hope of hypergamy.

But here’s the thing—while the allure of quiet luxury is understandable, it’s not as simple as wearing Loro Piana knits or perfectly tailored blazers.

Let me be clear:

Old money, or any big money really, isn’t just about how you dress. I’ve seen multimillionaires in torn, frayed jeans at professional events, looking like they couldn’t care less about fashion (or etiquette). Of course, I’ve also seen others in bespoke suits from Savile Row and Milanese tailors.

The common thread? Rich people wear what they want, without a second thought about how others perceive them.

Yes, brands like Loro Piana, Hermès, and Brunello Cucinelli are often associated with old money due to their quality and timeless appeal. But simply buying these pieces doesn’t grant you access to elite circles.

I’ve met women who dress head-to-toe in the latest “quiet luxury” trend—neutral cashmere, silk blouses, simple gold jewelry—yet they stand out as outsiders almost immediately.

Why?

Because it’s not about the clothes. It’s about your worldliness, your experiences, and your confidence.

Being in these circles is more about where you’ve studied, what you’ve accomplished, and where you’ve been—both geographically and culturally.

It’s the woman who spent a summer sailing the Mediterranean, the one who effortlessly converses about art, politics, and global events, or the one who knows the hidden gems in every European city because she’s lived there.

That’s what sets you apart.

Old money recognizes old money not by brands but by behaviors, experiences, and subtle cues that can’t be bought off a rack.

Wearing a Loro Piana coat (or a dupe) won’t compensate for not knowing which fork to use at a formal dinner, or being out of place in a conversation about the latest Sotheby’s auction.

Additionally, these circles are small and everyone has known each other forever. That isn't to say newcomers can't establish connections with rich people. You simply won't be seen as “one of them”, ie a person who has enjoyed the same privileges from birth.

If you really want to fit in with HNWIs, focus less on the wardrobe and more on the experiences that shape who you are.

Travel, educate yourself, cultivate diverse friendships, and engage with the world in a way that enriches you. That’s where the real currency lies.

In the end, the most important lesson is this: rich people are not a monolith. Some care about fashion and brands; many do not. What they often do care about is authenticity, and no amount of “quiet luxury” can substitute for that.

So next time you’re thinking of investing in that perfectly understated designer piece, ask yourself if it’s really what you need—or if there’s another way to truly cultivate the essence of the life you aspire to.

Stay savvy, stay genuine.

[ptseti]

AFRICAN COUNTRIES REPATRIATE THEIR GOLD FROM U.S.

In this video @RedactedNews anchor Clayton Morris explains why several African countries have begun withdrawing their gold reserves from the United States in recent months. The moves are a reflection of growing concerns over the stability of a waning hegemonic power and its economy. The trend also marks a real shift in global economics, as these and other countries grow increasingly skeptical of the traditional safe-haven status of US financial institutions and the dollar.

The decision to repatriate gold reserves is driven by a deeper unease among these nations about the trajectory of the US economy. Persistent inflation, mounting debt levels, and concerns about the Federal Reserve's ability to maintain stable monetary policies have eroded confidence in the US dollar. Additionally, geopolitical tensions and uncertainties surrounding trade relations have further fuelled apprehensions among foreign governments and investors.

Video credit: @RedactedNews

[accio-victuuri]

xiao zhan - li ning livestream teaser

New year, new clothes, new ways to play. Tonight at 19:00, meet @Taobao Live , come to the Tmall Li-Ning official flagship store, and join the "annual daily gold-making appointment" with Xiao Zhan, the global spokesperson for Li-Ning's sports trend products , and join us in advance Celebrate the Chinese New Year, #美会新愿日成都金# ! We’ll see you there~

[mining-market]

The Evolution of Gold Mining Market Trends and Innovations

Introduction

The Gold Mining Industry has undergone significant evolution in recent years, driven by technological advancements, changing market dynamics, and evolving consumer preferences. In this blog, we explore the latest trends and innovations shaping the future of gold mining and their implications for stakeholders.

Technological Advancements

Technological innovation has revolutionized gold mining operations, enabling companies to extract gold more efficiently and sustainably. Advanced mining techniques, such as heap leaching, bioleaching, and in-situ leaching, have minimized environmental impact and reduced production costs. Additionally, the integration of automation, robotics, and artificial intelligence (AI) has optimized mining processes, enhanced safety, and increased productivity.

Sustainable Practices

Environmental sustainability has become a top priority for gold mining companies, driven by regulatory requirements and stakeholder expectations. Companies are implementing eco-friendly mining practices, such as reclamation and rehabilitation of mine sites, water recycling, and energy efficiency measures. Moreover, the adoption of renewable energy sources, such as solar and wind power, is reducing carbon emissions and lowering operational costs.

Market Dynamics

The gold market is influenced by various factors, including economic trends, geopolitical tensions, and currency fluctuations. Investors often turn to gold as a safe haven asset during times of uncertainty, driving demand and influencing prices. Additionally, changing consumer preferences, such as the rise of ethical consumerism and sustainable investing, are shaping demand patterns in the gold market.

Emerging Trends: Several emerging trends are shaping the future of gold mining:

Digital Transformation: The digitization of mining operations, through the use of data analytics, Internet of Things (IoT) sensors, and cloud computing, is improving efficiency and decision-making processes. Companies are leveraging big data analytics to optimize mine planning, resource allocation, and predictive maintenance.

Responsible Sourcing: Ethical sourcing and responsible mining practices are gaining traction in the gold industry. Consumers are increasingly demanding transparency and accountability in the supply chain, prompting companies to implement traceability measures and adhere to responsible sourcing standards.

Innovation Investment

To stay competitive in the evolving market landscape, Gold Mining Companies must continue to invest in innovation. Research and development initiatives are essential for developing new technologies, improving operational efficiency, and unlocking new reserves. Collaboration with industry partners, research institutions, and government agencies can accelerate innovation and drive industry-wide progress.

Conclusion

The future of gold mining is characterized by innovation, sustainability, and adaptability. As technological advancements continue to reshape the industry, companies must embrace change, invest in innovation, and adopt sustainable practices to thrive in the evolving market environment. By staying ahead of emerging trends and leveraging new opportunities, gold mining companies can position themselves for long-term success and contribute to a sustainable future.

[crop-protection-market]

Shining a Light on the Gold Mining Market: Trends, Growth, and Outlook

Introduction: The Gleam of the Gold Mining Market

In the intricate dance of industry and commerce, the Gold Mining Market stands as an ageless protagonist, weaving through history and economies. This exploration seeks to unearth the multifaceted dimensions of the market, shedding light on market analysis, growth trajectories, market share dynamics, size, trends, value, research reports, challenges, and the emergent trends shaping the glittering landscape of gold mining.

Gilded Growth: Gold Mining Market Growth

The heartbeat of the gold mining industry resonates in the rhythm of Gold Mining Market Growth. Beyond mere extraction figures, this growth encapsulates the industry's expansion into new territories, embracing technological advancements, and adapting to the ever-evolving global economic landscape. The global gold mining market is forecasted to grow at a robust CAGR of 4.5% from 2023 to 2028. Investments in gold mining exploration projects have surged by 20% in the last fiscal year.

Claiming Market Share: Dynamics in Gold Mining

Securing a slice of the pie is strategic in the Gold Mining Market Share arena. It's not merely about ounces mined; it's about which players wield the most significant influence. This intricate dance of market share dynamics reveals the dominance of key players and the evolution of competition within the global gold mining landscape. Major gold mining companies, including Barrick Gold and Newmont, collectively command over 40% of the global gold mining market share.

Sizing Up the Gold Rush: Gold Mining Market Size

The Gold Mining Market Size is not just a metric; it's a reflection of the industry's impact on economies and markets. Understanding this size is crucial for gauging the market's significance in the broader context of global trade and finance. The current global gold mining market size is estimated at USD 120 billion, with projections indicating a rise to USD 150 billion by 2025.

Gazing at Trends in the Gold Pan: Gold Mining Market Trends

Trends in the Gold Mining Market Trends segment are like veins of rich ore, guiding industry players toward prosperity. From sustainable mining practices to the integration of cutting-edge technologies, staying attuned to trends is essential for gold mining enterprises navigating the ever-evolving dynamics of the market. The adoption of blockchain technology in gold supply chains has witnessed a 25% increase in the last two years.

Golden Valuation: Gold Mining Market Value

Beyond the tangible ounces extracted, the Gold Mining Market Value encompasses the economic worth attributed to the industry. This valuation reflects not just the market price of gold but also the economic contributions made by the gold mining sector. The total market value of gold produced in 2022 exceeded USD 200 billion, underscoring the enduring allure of this precious metal.

Prospecting through Reports: Gold Mining Market Research Reports

The landscape of gold mining is further illuminated by Gold Mining Market Research Reports. These reports delve into market trends, player strategies, and future projections. They serve as invaluable tools for industry stakeholders making strategic decisions within the dynamic realm of gold mining. Research reports indicate a surge in demand for sustainable gold mining practices, with an expected 30% increase in adoption by 2025.

Challenges in the Gold Veins: Gold Mining Market Challenges

Amidst the glitter of gold, challenges lie in the veins of the Gold Mining Market Challenges segment. From environmental concerns to regulatory hurdles, navigating these challenges is crucial for sustainable and responsible mining practices. Compliance costs for gold mining operations have witnessed a 15% increase due to stricter environmental regulations.

Emerging Trends in the Gold Rush: Gold Mining Market Emerging Trends

As the industry continues to evolve, the Gold Mining Market Emerging Trends segment reveals nascent patterns that could shape the future. From the rise of decentralized mining operations to innovations in extraction technologies, keeping an eye on emerging trends is pivotal for industry players positioning themselves for the next wave of the gold rush. Investments in eco-friendly gold extraction technologies have doubled in the last three years, reflecting a growing emphasis on sustainable mining practices.

Conclusion: Navigating the Golden Currents of Tomorrow

In the final reckoning, the Gold Mining Market isn't merely about extracting a precious metal; it's about navigating currents of trends, challenges, and emerging dynamics. From growth trajectories influencing strategic decisions to research reports providing insights, each facet contributes to the resilient evolution of the gold mining industry. As we move forward, embracing sustainable practices, overcoming challenges, and exploring emerging trends, the Gold Mining Market remains a cornerstone in the economic landscape, its allure enduring through the ages.

[mariacallous]

Sunday was election day in my state of Brandenburg. The morning was sunny, unseasonably warm, yet already in autumnal gold. Normally I just cross the road to vote, but due to a lack of poll clerk volunteers, I had to drive 8km to one of the next villages. Following Google Maps, I ended up on a road so rocky that only tractors might brave it. The thin layer of recent asphalt had cracked over the GDR gravel. At the bottom of the potholes lay the Prussian cobble stones.

I was greeted by three poll clerks: a middle-aged woman, a grey-haired bulky man and an adolescent with a decidedly military haircut. Grabbing my voting slip, I couldn’t help being moved for a moment by the beauty of democracy. Here I was, about to make a cross they would probably deem degenerate or totalitarian, knowing full well that I deemed theirs fascist. Statistically, two of them would vote for the far-right AfD. Our parish has again come out with more than 50% for the far right, as it did back in May for the European elections. And yet, neither I or anyone else in the polling station ended up with a black eye. The clerks didn’t even hiss “we know where you live”.

It was a relief to see the results that evening. After months with the AfD ahead in the polls, the social democrats won by a tight margin of 1.7% (30.9% for the SPD, with the AfD at 29.2%). This was certainly not the achievement of Olaf Scholz, the social democrat German chancellor. Brandenburg has been red for about 35 years, and its governor, Dietmar Woidke, is very popular. His primary campaign strategy was to dissociate himself from the government in Berlin. Scholz did not take part in any of the campaigning. And the election posters presented the party affiliation as a bullet to be bitten: “If you want Woidke, vote SPD.” A vote for Woidke was also endorsed by some who might otherwise have voted for the Greens or the Left party. Alice Weidel, the AfD’s co-chair, complained that it only lost due to tactical voting. But lose it did.

Nevertheless, Hans-Christoph Berndt, the AfD’s main candidate in Brandenburg, who recently argued for a segregation-style law banning immigrants from attending public events, defiantly claimed that the future was “blue” (the AfD’s signature colour). The future is open, but it is undoubtedly true that authoritarian populism is on the rise. The AfD is up about 6% from the election in Brandenburg five years ago, and was the strongest party among younger voters.

To understand the shift to the right in Brandenburg, or the former GDR, it is vital to look at global and local trends. First, this isn’t a result of east Germans’ unfamiliarity with democracy, as some commentators suggest. After all, we are witnessing a shift to the right among many voters in the oldest democracies, too, including France and the US. Much more decisive is what the Vienna-based historian Philipp Ther has called “the other end of history”: unhampered neoliberal restructuring after the iron curtain fell. This restructuring affected rural and de-industrialised areas in the west as well, but is most pervasive in the postsocialist regions. Echoing the economist Karl Polanyi, Ther stresses that marketisation corrodes the social fabric. Politics then mainly consists of attempts at repair, attempts that mostly miss the root causes of the degradation.

After reunification, only 6% of formerly state-owned assets ended up in the hands of east Germans. Even if there is some economic growth, as there is in Brandenburg, it comes from multinational investors – Tesla for instance – which creates volatile, non-unionised jobs.

Besides the economic stratification, there is a wounded memory of dispossession connected with the post-socialist transformation. Up to 80% of east Germans lost their jobs, with many of them seeing their training rendered useless overnight. The bitterness that arose from the pandemic era’s quarantine measures – a great source of contention in Brandenburg – was partly to do with people once again being compelled to suspend ordinary life. It is as if the weight of another break in routine was simply intolerable and experienced as sheer sadism, but resolved by declaring any government action an incursion into one’s personal freedom.

The core remedy that the AfD promises is control in another realm: an entitlement to treat racialised others like disposable objects. They promote white supremacy and ethnic homogeneity. At least some of the AfD sympathisers I have been in conversation with argue, in stark contrast to the party’s economic neoliberalism, that they would like to see the state crack down on the super-rich and address social inequality. But they consider this so unlikely, so out of reach, that another demonstration of sovereignty takes precedence: Germany for the Germans.

After I had returned from the voting booth, the older guy among the poll clerks reminded me that we knew each other. We had reroofed a house together about 10 years ago for a friend of his, using shiny new tiles. We in turn were grateful to salvage the old clay ones. In fact, I often refer to this experience when asked by those in metropolitan areas how to talk to your political adversaries. “You can only do so if you have another context that you work together in,” I say. Societies should offer those spaces. If their fabric tears, it’s hard to find enough common ground to say, for instance, that no, open borders are not the problem, or to tell them you simply don’t find that joke funny. That time on the roof, such conversation was at least possible.It hasn’t become easier in the meantime.

At the polling station, the clerks lightly mock me: “Why did you take that idiotic route? There is a much more direct way back to your place.” They know where I live and choose to help me and compensate for my dodgy navigation. We still don’t know how to create a cooperative basis for society. But when I experience small interactions like these, I realise such an ambition is the only viable path away from a bleak, fascist future.