#I went into her household to check out her skills and noticed her age bar was glowing

[jasminesilk]

It's a teen birthday party! Marshall is annoyed that all his friends are aging up before him.

[ourplaceinthecosmosphff]

Chapter 1. The Case Against Fairytales

'his eyes across a room tangled up in her imagination they had spent a lifetime together by the time he said hello' atticus

My brother died the same way he came into the world: silent, eyes closed, changing my life as I knew it. 

We spent our whole lives trying to convince anyone we could that we were as regular as they were, but here's the first fundamentally different thing when you are royal: the meaning of the word ‘everyone’. 

In our case, we usually mean anyone in the country, most of the international media, and at least a sizeable majority of the world's population. It's not that everyone knew us... it's just that enough people did. Enough for it to be easier to call them 'everyone'. 

When my brother Louis was born, mom had been rushed to the hospital in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. The press was notified, they promptly set up camp at the hospital entrance, and the people started prayer campaigns to the safe arrival of their new prince and heir. Everyone rejoiced at his arrival. I remember, I was there. 

At three years-old, it felt like everyone was every single person in the planet. It was mostly just the people in our country; to everyone else, his birth was a quick, short line of announcement, maybe some notice to the fact that the newborn baby boy was taking his older sister's place as heir, and not much else. 

When he died, everyone was every single person in the planet. The second thing fundamentally different when you are a royal: from a very early age you must learn that tragedy sells more than joy. And in any constitutional monarchy country, a royal family is merely another commodity.

A few people talked about my early graduation from University. A lot more people talked about my boyfriend breaking up with me. There were a few articles about my little sister's victory at the ice-skating junior final. When she fell on her face in front of the cameras while attempting a risky move, she went viral. When my brother came into our lives, a few people took notice. 

When he left us, everyone did.

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

I, too, am a victim of culture appropriation. Since the dawn of time, from the moment humankind developed communication skills, there has been storytelling. And for the past few thousands of years most stories that parents tell their young as they tuck them into their blankets every night, have been about my culture. As far as that goes, it is not the most damaging kind of culture appropriation. But I have a duty today, and I will not shy away from it. I am sorry to say I must, and will, shatter the beautiful image of fairytales that kids have been fed for so many years now. 

I know what you are thinking – oh, boo-hoo, the poor little princess girl; is life too difficult in your beautiful palace with all the money a person could ever need? And yes, I know. I am not a victim. The same colonialism that placed my ancestors, and therefore, me, in the position of privilege and power I am in today has created many more actual victims around the world. But that is also why I must tell this story the way it was always meant to be told: truthfully. With all the weird, awkward, awful, bits and pieces that fairytales tend to skip. 

Fairytales would, for instance, skip straight to the grand, majestic welcome ceremony between the Queen of the United Kingdom and the King of Savoy in a sun floored courtyard with guards on tall, furry black hats strutting around, standing in a red-carpeted dais, with a handsome prince making eyes at me. But in my story, we will start with the train. 

That’s right, in modern fairytales you don’t take a lovely carriage ride to a neighboring kingdom. You take a train there – a commercial train, if you can, because modern times beg for demonstrating to the masses that the Monarch isn’t throwing money around. We were trying to highlight the easy routes of access to our neighbors to the northeast, and so we took the ferry across the Celtic Sea to Hugh Town Island and from there, Eurostar number 2 train that made a quick stop in Penzance, UK, and then went straight to London. 

The train ride isn’t comfortable – even if you have a first class private car. It’s bumpy and crowded and a terrible place to spend three straight hours. On that particular morning, I was in our car with my father, his household secretary Auguste, my private aide, Cadie, and a few other staff members. 

In fairytale world, when a princess does not look the part, there is usually the appearance of a fairy godmother who sings a nice song and magically transforms her into a Proper Princess™. There is no fairy godmothers when you are a real princess- real ones, sure, but they are not magical-, but you do learn from an early age what a Proper Princess™ should look like, act like, and sound like, and god forbid you don't. 

In the train that day, I heard all that was keeping me from being Proper™ from Auguste, who was in many ways the exact opposite of a fairy godmother. He had all the menacing authority of one, with none of the charm. He also didn’t have wings or a sparkly wand; he had greying short hair, and thin, small, reading glasses that he always pushed down to the tip of his nose to look above, which made me wonder what was the point of the glasses at all.

Before our arrival, I had to change my lipstick, which was too dark, my dress, which was too short at the daring height of above my knees, my shoes, which were open toed and therefore wrong, and finally, make sure to brush my hair once more.

My parents never subscribed to the idea that we were forbidden to do anything. They were raised on stern rules and heavily traditional costumes and wanted their kids to live more freely. So, growing up, they revolutionarily told us that we were free to be whoever we wanted to be – in private. In public, we had an obligation to be Proper™. After all, as I heard repeatedly growing up: royals don’t make mistakes, we make history; and history remembers.

So, yes. I, a grown, 25 years-old, law-school graduate, bar-approved acquisitions lawyer, changed out of my dress into a more proper one because my dad asked. Because as a princess, you’re never just yourself; you’re the country. And if your country comes from a Roman Catholic tradition, your hemlines must reflect that, no matter what century it is.

The country in question was just to the south of the United Kingdom, west of France, a large island named Savoie. The English call it Savoy, which is how it was pronounced anyway. It was originally populated by the Irish, but over the years it was conquered by the English, the Spanish, and the Portuguese until finally, in the 13th Century, it was conquered by France. It was bigger than Ireland, but smaller than England, and one of the biggest GDPs in the world, with a population of 49 million. Under the reign of Louis XV, however, France lost most of its possessions after its defeat in the Seven Years' War, and to secure Savoy, the king sent part of the court to live there and to reign in his stead as his emissaries. Louis XV's reign grew weak, including his ill-advised financial, political and military decisions, which discredited the monarchy and arguably led to the French Revolution 15 years after his death. France dealt with its dissatisfaction by revolting, Savoy however, secluded away at sea, decided to declare independence before the Revolution had even taken steam. The political leaders of the Island reached an agreement with the king's emissary, Prince Louis, the highest ranking monarch on the island; in exchange for support for the severance of all connection to France, he was then made King Louis I of Savoy. The Royal House of Savoy grew steady and strong by protecting its people and assuring them a freer, better life than the one they'd known under French reign.

A few years later, I sat on that train in front of the current King of Savoy. My father. 

“You look beautiful, Maggie.”

“Thank you.” 

“The other dress was beautiful as well. Just not for today.”

“Mm-hm.”

A moment of silence went by. I picked up my phone and checked my emails. There was one from Sophie with the subject ‘urgent!’ so I clicked in it feeling my heart race.

It read,

‘Marie, I’m sorry to bother you on your days off, but the depositions got moved up to Monday and we can’t find the notes on the manager deposition, you were the one who did them. Is there any chance you have a copy and if so can you send them to me? Enjoy England! XO Soph’

Sighing, I put down my phone and quickly found my laptop on my suitcase. I turned it on as I replied to Sophie’s email to tell her to expect my deposition notes shortly. 

“You know if we could I’d let you wear whatever you wanted.” Dad added as I logged into my computer.

“I do.”

I moved quickly through my folders realizing the most recent update on my notes hadn’t been uploaded to the cloud. Sighing, I logged on to the train WiFi and checked the storage service online. It didn’t connect.

“Honestly, darling, you look even prettier with this dress.”

I looked up, mentally wondering if the previous versions of the notes would be useful.

“This isn’t about the dress.”

I realized, then, that it wouldn’t matter anyway because I wouldn’t be able to send them to Sophie without internet. I looked out the window, realizing perhaps too late that we were in the tunnel, underwater. Of course there wasn’t internet.

“Well, what is it about?” Dad asked, putting his book marker back inside the page he was on and laying down the book to give me his full attention.

“Work, papa. I have a job.”

“Yes, and it’s your day off. Maybe you should try and turn off from work for the next few days?”

I smiled down to my computer, “maybe this is a conversation for another time.”

Dad adjusted his posture, looking a little taller, and looked around the room to Cadie and Auguste sitting in a booth nearby with our private hair and make-up artist, and dad’s footman, and personal aide.

“Excuse me, everyone, would you be so kind as to give us the room? Or, uh, the car? There is a little lounge outside, isn’t there?”

“Of course, sir.” Auguste said, jumping up immediately with the aide, and Cadie and Cass, the make-up artist, followed.

After they had left and closed the door behind them, I looked at my father. He lurched back in his seat and smiled at me. 

“Go on,” he said. “If you don’t scream I don’t think they’ll hear us.”

“Why would I scream?”

“I don’t know, Maggie. But I don’t know why you would be so passive aggressive, either. Can you tell me?”

“What do you want, dad?” 

In truth, I added the ‘dad’ at the end of the sentence to make it sound less aggressive, but as he stared at me, I felt uncomfortable not explaining myself.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”, I asked, tiredly. “I’m here, wearing a proper, long, not-slutty dress-“

“No one here used that word-“

“My toes will be perfectly hidden away when we arrive, I have hidden my ugly, evil legs under some stockings-“

“Really, Maggie, no one said your legs were-“

“My make-up is light and my hair is simple and non-threatening. I know not to smile too much or too little and to let the adults lead the conversation”, I said, the word ‘adults’ dangling bitterly from me lips. “And not to walk ahead of you, but always behind, taking your lead.”

“You make it sound so stiff and calculated.”

“And I have taken time off of work to be here.” I said. “All other Junior Associates are working overtime and through weekends to cash in as many billable hours as possible to be promoted to Full-time Associates, and instead I took off four days to travel with my dad.”

“Work, for work!”

“So, again, what do you want? How else am I not meeting your expectations?”

I spoke calmly, gently, and as low a volume as I could just to confront his joke not a minute before about how if I didn’t scream the others wouldn’t hear us. I made sure to be as poised and contained as I could. He heaved a sigh.

“I’m sorry you had to take time off work.” 

I waited, as he stared in his usual lovingly, patient way. I smiled, more as a peace offering than genuinely. 

“You know very well they won’t fire you.”

Still, I was quiet, smiling as sincerely as I could. 

“And I know that isn’t fair, but there’s nothing I can do about it. So tell me something I can do and I will.”

“Okay.” I said, nodding. “I want your honesty. Don’t treat me like a child you need to protect, don’t patronize me. All I want is an honest answer.”

He adjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat. “Alright. Go on.”

“Why am I here, papa?”

He blinked, seemingly confused. I could tell he expected a harder question.

“Your- Because your mother sprained her ankle?” he answered, still unsure. “What- do you mean philosophically? Why are any of us here, really? I don’t understand.”

I tried not to smile. “I mean I have a life. I am not your heir. Louis is your heir, it is his job to help you when mom has emergencies.”

He sighed deeply, finally arriving at the same page where I was.

“Your brother is in school.” He said. “And you are our oldest child. So, I’m sorry if it disrupts your life, Maggie. But you are needed.”

“And after school?” I asked “His graduation is in 6 months. Are you telling me that after he graduates university and moves back home, when he is starting his career, maybe moving to the capital, when you and mom have an emergency, you will call him up instead of me?”

He gave the table a sad smile. “If that is your wish, yes.”

“So that’s all, then?” I confirmed, suspiciously. “He moves back after graduation and you will give me the space I need?”

He smiled. “Is that what you want, then?” it wasn’t a confirmation. It was a tone of accomplishment. Of finally realizing what was it that I wanted, as if this entire conversation that’s what he had been trying to find out.

“I went to school for years. I interned for a year. I studied hard for the bar exams in America and Savoy. Yes, dad, I want to use the degree I worked hard for.”

“Okay, then. We will give you space.” He said. “Space from us, to be who you want to be. To be normal.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling, slightly amused at his dramatics. “That is not what I meant.”

“But it is accurate.”

“Papa...” I sighed.

“I’m just saying, sweetheart, I understand.” He insisted. “It’s why you went to America for University, it’s why you are based on the capital now. As long as you’re too close to us, you can’t live a normal life.”

“I can never live a normal life. We are not normal.”

“But you wish to try.”

I chuckled. “How?! You said it yourself, they will never fire me. My firm, I mean. Wherever I am, I am never just me and my degree and my career. People look at me and see you, as if I am you. I am their King. I am the Royal Family of Savoy. They’ll never take me seriously or afford me the same opportunities as everyone, because I am not everyone.”

He nodded, slowly, then sighed. “Yikes. You’re right. That sounds tough.”

“And I’m the passive aggressive one?”

“Job security and the attention of your bosses. That sounds awful.”

“Papa...”

“You want the space to dedicate yourself to your career without us pulling you away for royal work. Is that it? Okay. You got it. As soon as your brother is back from University, I will make sure you’re only needed for official events, and only if you’re not working.” 

He sounded serious now. Sincere as when he delivered the End of Year address every Christmas, which was meaningful. Getting dad to afford me the same seriousness he afforded his subjects was as much seriousness as I could get from him. Still, there was no mistaking the sadness in his eyes. 

“Even before his affirmation ceremony?” I asked, trying to sniff around for a trick.

The affirmation ceremony was meant to make clear to the country that an heir to throne had the seal of approval of the Monarch, and it usually happened when the heir was 21 years of age, to signify the Monarch believed in the event of a tragedy, the heir was ready to rule.  In modern times, it meant an heir was ready to start working as a full-time royal. Though my brother was 22, the family had decided to wait until he had graduated university to do his ceremony. 

Dad took longer than I wished, but finally, he nodded. “Yes. I promise.”

If you’re paying attention, then you might have noticed the math doesn’t add up. How come my 22 years-old brother is the heir when I said I am 25, the oldest child? Well, as with most fairytales, as well as with most of life, the problem is the patriarchy. For the thing is, though I was older than Louis by three years, because I was born a girl, he became the heir when he was born. So, at three, I went from future-Queen to lower ranking older sister. 

It wasn’t unusual, my father himself had two older sisters who were lower than him and his brothers in the line of succession. As a result we had older cousins who we outranked. I cared about all this at 25 the same as when I was 3: not at all. 

Absolute primogeniture law was passed in Savoy when I was 5, propelled by my birth and the new times. It was, however, not retroactive. This meant the law was changed for future births, not past ones, so all girls born after the law came into effect would be heirs in their own right, no matter how many brothers they got after, and all girls born before would go into history as having missed it by ‘just a bit’.

Louis and I, though, didn’t sit around having long discussions about who would be a better ruler. There has never been an instance in which we were arguing and I yelled something like, “first you stole my throne and now you stole my cookies! I hate you!”. For us this was just a little footnote in the family tree. A little fun fact to tell our future kids one day. And although I couldn’t remember what it felt like, I always knew it was much better not having to be the Crown Princess of Savoy.

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

When we finally reached Penzance, the small town in the tip of the isle of England where sat the second Eurostar station, I was able to finally connect to the internet. My father left our train car to walk about with his security because he wanted to witness the new English policy of installing a check-point at the entry due to the immigrant crisis – a huge part of why we were there. While he did that, I sent Sophie my notes on the deposition, and answered some messages.

There was one from Louis, my aforementioned brother:

‘are you close?’

And one from our baby sister, Lourdes:

‘what do you think??!!!!!!!!’, with an attachment of two videos.

And, lastly, one from my mother, Her Majesty Queen Amelie-Elyse, back home with a sprained ankle.

‘Hope all is well! Let me know when you’re with your brother. Don’t forget to let your hair down before leaving the train!’

She didn’t mean it in a philosophical, have fun kind of way. She literally meant let my hair down, apparently it softened my features. 

I replied to her with a selfie, with my hair properly brushed and down, in preparation for the arrival in London, which was close now. Let Louis know we were almost there. And sent a quick, uncommitted ‘woah!’ to my sister, without opening her attachments. They were always the same: videos of her practicing. There was only so much ice skating I could watch in a lifetime.

My mom answered my text with, “why did you change your dress?!”

I sighed, getting ready to justify this decision as well, already anticipating she would argue that the fascinator wouldn’t go with this one dress, so I told her I already had another fascinator standing by. 

Growing up with fairytales they don’t tell you about the little annoying details. Characters who are annoying usually are the villains, the ones the Princess escapes from, usually saved by the prince. They don’t tell you sometimes, actually a lot of the times, the people you love can be equally as annoying. 

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

When we arrived at the station in London, I was already wearing my disc fascinator in a light shade of blue matching both my lace dress, this time reaching all the way to my ankles, and eyes. We were quickly greeted by the Savoyen Ambassador to England in front of the press, and escorted into government cars towards Whitehall. 

The large parade ground was a traditional courtyard in central London that usually housed ceremonies related to the military and the royal family. When we arrived, the day finally was washed in a feeling of ceremony. 

The place was lined neatly with military guards, security barricades and the Scotland Yard Police kept watchers and paparazzi at bay, the press lined up inside to have the best view of all involved. As we arrived, the traditional 41 gun salute was already sounding on. A military band was playing. People waved and yelled hello as we drove inside. I suddenly knew what to do, as if my body had the gene for it. This was one thing that was definitely genetic.

I stepped out of the car delicately, smoothly, knees together like a proper lady, polite smile on my lips in thanks to the guard who saluted as I left. My father greeted a handler who escorted us to the front of all the lined guards, where three structures had been set up: one large one in the middle, with a red-carpeted stage and a large roof, the British Royal Coat of Arms in the center with the British flag to its right and the Savoy flag to its left. Decorative flowers and elegant plants here and there. Two smaller, simpler structures to both of its sides. Inside all of them, men and women in formal suits and ties and knee-length, appropriate dresses and hats. 

We walked the grovel path to the larger structure as the band played and the press, lined up in front of this platform, took their photographs. My father climbed the steps first, quickly being received by the small, elder, lady in a lavender overcoat and matching hat, impressive set of pearls dangling from her neck. She smiled as he lowered himself down to kiss both her cheeks warmly. 

The queen then looked at me and I approached, just as our handler told Her Majesty:

“And may I present, Her Royal Highness, Princess Marie-Margueritte of Savoy.”

I lowered myself in a curtsy, and as she extended her hands to hold mine, I also kissed her cheeks, trying to avoid knocking her hat with mine. 

“Welcome.” She smiled. “I hope the ride was forgiving.”

“Very comfortable.” My father told her. “Always surprising how fast it is.”

“Yes. You’ll remember, I’m sure, the Prince of Wales.” She said, walking us to the center of the platform where another two men awaited.

My father and the Prince of Wales greeted each other warmly, they were more used to running in the same circles – royal weddings here and there, international summits and meetings, or whatever it is they do. 

“We’re so glad to have you.” He told my father. 

“I don’t know if you’ve met my daughter, Princess Marie-Margueritte.”

Smiling, I curtsied to the Prince of Wales as he held my hand, before kissing my cheeks. 

“You brighten this day, Your Royal Highness.” He told me, before stepping closer to add, in a whisper. “Sorry you have been dragged to this.”

I giggled, “I’m happy to be here, sir.”

Straightening up, he noticed my father was already greeting the man behind him. “Hopefully we won’t bore you too much. I have tried to bring someone else closer to your age. Have you met my son?”

The handler didn’t know it, but there were no introductions necessary. And yet, all I could do was smile politely as we were introduced to:

“His Royal Highness, Prince Harry of Wales.”

I wondered, for a moment, if he would acknowledge that we already knew each other. 

“It’s a pleasure, Your Royal Highness.” Holding my hand in his, he brought my knuckles to his lips. 

The answer was, obviously, no. So I lowered myself again in a curtsy as an excuse to avert my eyes from his.

I couldn’t understand why, but I had been unprepared for him. With all of Auguste’s preparation, all the briefings, with all the preachings about my appearance, no one had prepared me for him. I don’t know if it was that, like me, he was one of the youngest there, or how absurdly, almost ridiculously tall he was, or maybe how the blue in his eyes contrasted with the red of his hair, but he just… stunned me. When he kissed my hand, his eyes traveled down my legs all the way back to pierce mine, igniting a wave of electricity down my spine I was unable to control. 

He leaned back, and there we stood, hand in hand, wordlessly. 

“You can follow the King, ma’am.” Auguste whispered behind me, his voice making me jump slightly, as I quickly pulled my hand from Harry’s, not before realizing he had something scribbled on his palm.

My father and the Queen were deep in conversation, with Charles besides them, as they reached the center of the platform to watch the guards. The Queen in the middle, my father to her right, and the Prince of Wales to her left, I walked forward to stand beside my father, while Prince Harry walked to his. 

We waited just a moment, and then the band started playing the Savoy National Anthem, and the British Anthem after it. A few words said, more ceremony here and there, and the Prince Wales formally invited my father to inspect the Guards, so they left together, accompanied by one of the military leaders to walk among the rolls of guards,  as the three of us stood behind to watch.

“I was sorry to hear about your mother, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I said, looking regretful, walking towards her, closing the gap left behind by the others. “She was sorry she couldn’t be here.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious.” Prince Harry interjected.

“A sprained ankle.” I explained, looking ahead. 

“Harry is also here after a small hiccup with the Duchess of Cornwall, my daughter-in-law.” His grandmother told me. “An illness in her family, nothing serious.”

“Hopefully I’ll have time to meet her before we leave.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” She nodded. “How did you mother hurt herself?”

“Horse fall. She was never very fond of Polo, I’m afraid this will drive her further away from it.”

“Oh, that is regretful.” The Queen said. 

Harry looked at me. “Do you play?” 

“I do, sir.” 

“Harry is very good,” his grandmother told me, “he will be the one playing with you in the charity match in the coming days.”

“I look forward to-“, I started, but Harry had started the exact same sentence. We locked eyes, and chuckled.

“You first.” I said.

“Please, I insist.” He responded, cheeks reddening.

His grandmother looked between us, and then back to the uniformed men in front. She then said, in a low tone, something I would spend a large part of the upcoming months thinking obsessively about:

“Be careful with him... He will charm you, but he is a heartbreaker.”

The words astonished me so much I looked at her, unsure she had actually said them. But she had, clearly, because Harry was also looking at her, quite shocked.

“Granny!” he complained, in such a whiny tone I broke into laughter.

“Do I lie?” She asked him, grinning. It only made him look more shocked. 

“Don’t ruin my reputation in front of foreign royals!” he said, in a low tone, before looking at me. “Specially such pretty ones.”

My giggle froze in my throat under his intense glare, and I could feel my cheeks reddening.

The Queen looked at me. “Oh, you’re blushing. It’s too late, I see.”

It was.

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

Margueritte’s outfit

The ask box is open! Let me know your thoughts? And if at all possible, like this page so I know you liked it? Thank you so much!

[A/N: Attention: by continuing to read you are accepting that some sad stuff is coming. You been warned. Thanks for checking this out! Let me know your thoughts?? thanks!!!!]

[A/N2: Hey! Nat here. I wanted to talk a little more about the story we are about to go on together.

In the upcoming chapters you will be introduced to the Royal Family of Savoy, a fictitious European country right below the UK, to left of France. When I first posted a fanfiction, FIUYMI, I made the main character latina, since that’s what I am, and I had previously felt that I couldn’t relate to other characters I had read. In this one, however, I decided I wanted to write about a fictitious monarchy, and I knew I wanted to make it as realistic as possible. 

As much as I wanted at many points in the story to make the character look more like me, the idea felt like cheating: Margueritte is a blood royal, born to a life of specific privileges and hardships, and pretending she could look like the type of people who don’t have white privilege would be trying to ignore a very real issue: all monarchies - past and present - existed, lasted and gathered riches on the back of people of color. Most of their descendants still carry white and wealth privilege because these royal families, however many years ago, supported and perpetuated colonialism and white supremacy that left countless countries and their populations still recovering today.

That is a legacy Margueritte didn’t chose, and which she also doesn’t have to face, but in this story she will chose too. As you’ll see, she finds herself in a much more influential position she thought she would have, and as such she realizes she has two options: she can stick to the message her family - and other royal families - have perpetuated for generations and keep her head high, mouth and ears shut, so their legacy can survive; or she can chose to be a modern Queen who will make the institution relevant again. I want to write about this because this issue is important for the times we live in, particularly after the way the Duchess of Sussex was treated in the United Kingdom.

What that will look like will depend on who Margueritte is as a person and whose advice she takes, and that is a journey I hope you’ll take with us =) ]

[stars-that-shine-at-night]

If the Shoe Fits Park Jimin x Reader Ballet Au!

1  2  3  4  5 

“We aren’t close at all, I only came here because Hoseok begged me. What happened today doesn’t matter. None of this means anything, it all means nothing to me.” You were gone, and Jimin couldn’t do anything. What could he possibly say. Jimin walked limply back to his dorm. Only then he realized he wasn’t wearing any shoes, the rough feeling of the concrete against the pads of his feet was the only thing he could feel. He didn’t feel like he was physically sick, but sick in another way. In his right mind he would he was not in love with you, but there was something that made him feel like you were linked to him. 

                                                        ~

Jaejung: How’s spoiled Siegfried? You looked at your phone and smiled. 

Darling: I guess you can say he’s alive. I am exhausted though. 

Jaejung: You look like you need some ice cream ;) Wanna go?

Darling: How are we going to go? You aren’t here. 

Jaejung: Look up darling. 

You looked up but no one was there, but to your right two seats down you see a familiar figure wearing a black baseball hat. You slid over and bumped your body into Jaejung’s on purpose, making his body jerk. 

“What’s up stranger?” He asked, looking at you from under his baseball cap. 

“Nothing really, you?” You returned the smile. 

“So it that a ‘yes’ on ice cream?” 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You said. 

“Perfect, let’s go to my house first to get my car, so I can drive you back home afterwords.”

“Wait you have a car?”

“Yes,” you started to beat Jaejung with your fists lightly. 

“You have a car, but you never use it?! I would love to have a car and license.” 

“Ow, stop hitting me.” Jaejung said, grabbing your hands to stop your assault. “Besides why would I take my car when I can see this pretty girl everyday?” Your cheeks flushed, and you hid them in your hands. 

“God, that was horrible.”

“But you liked it.”

“If that’s what makes you happy.” 

“That makes me very happy darling.”  You rolled out your eyes, and pulled out your phone to text your brother that you were staying out for a little longer. When you got to Jaejung’s apartment you noticed that it was pretty expensive and nice from the outside. His car was a nice, sleek, and black Toyota. 

“What the fuck? Where did you get all the money for this?” You said marveling at his car. 

“Who said dancers don’t get paid much? Between getting paid for teaching, going on tour for idols, and the occasional modeling there is a pretty good amount of money being pulled in.” 

“I think all of the pointe shoes I have made in my life could probably pay off this one car, I’m pretty sure I’ve made thousands already.” You said, still in awestruck. 

“Well what are you waiting for? I still want ice cream.” Jaejung said, as he got in the driver’s side of the car. You slid right next to him in the passenger side, and you two were off. Maybe ice cream was a bad idea, because not many parlors were open at midnight, so you two just opted for convenient store ice cream. You returned to Jaejung’s car with two popsicles and handed one to him. You popped open the wrapper took a bite of the sweet treat. 

“Convenient store is the best type of ice cream.” Jaejung said as he ate his. 

“You don’t think better parlors have better tasting ice cream?” 

“I mean it is better quality but these taste better.” 

“What makes you say that?”

“Well both of my parents are successful surgeons. They had a lot of money they only really wanted the finest quality. I guess I got tired of it I guess.” Jaejung admitted. 

“Well my family wasn’t that poor, but we weren’t rich. We had six working adults in my household, but shoe making doesn’t make the big money you see. I’m kind of glad I quit dancing. If I didn’t and went to Etre, Sehwa would have never had the chance of getting lessons. I think even now most of my pay check goes to her lesson funds.” You said. 

“Wait I thought there were six working adults in your house.” 

“That’s the thing, it’s were, three of my grandparents retired, and my grandmother, well she passed away. Now there are three of us working, it’s hard trying to get two kids out of three to school, maybe that’s why I’m okay with working.” 

“Wow, isn’t that a lot to bear on your own.”

“Well when you don’t have many friends, who can you tell? Well I got you.”

“That’s right you do have me…” Jaejung grabbed your hand and gripped it tight. 

“We’ll be a team from now on.” He said smiling. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You said, holding his hand back. 

                                                           ~

Jimin woke up staring at the ceiling, it was right before six, because it was still dark outside, and his room mates were still asleep. He sat up in his bed, curling his feet closer to him, he noticed the bottoms of his feet were black. He never washed his feet after last night, he got back to his room, and flung himself on his bed. 

Jimin looked at the soles of his slippers and saw the lone dandelion seed pressed into his shoes as he got ready for warm up class. 

 "When did (y/n) leave last night?“ Hoseok asked. 

"To be honest I never checked the time when I saw her leave, I know it was after ten, because she was still asleep by then.” Jimin answered. 

"Wait you just let her leave?“ Hoseok was in shock, what if something happened to you. 

 "I tried to stop her, but her mind was made up.” Jimin said, putting on his other shoe. 

 "Did all of her remedies work?“ Yoongi asked. 

 "Well, I am here right now, so yes.” 

The warm-up class went as per usual, working on getting their blood circulated and technique perfected. Sweaty hand gripping the smooth bar, straight spines, elegant swift kicks; up and down, up and down. 

"Keep your head up.“ Madame Dasom instructed, as she went around looking at the dancers. 

"Miss Yoo straighten your leg. Don’t be lazy, what would your mother say?” Miju cringed at the mention of her mom. Memories of being locked a dance room while her mom watched her with close eyes. 

                                                            ~

"We are going to stay in here until you have strengthened your core, you are always off balance.“ Her mother said. Tears were streaming Miju’s small face as she kicked and kicked, making sure her foot came back into the right position. 

                                                            ~

"Mister Park good line, just like every other Park.” Madame Dason said, as she walked by Jimin. 

"Miss Yoo, you’re lucky you have a talented partner like Mister Park.“ Madame Dasom finally added. Sweat dripped down from Miju’s temple, and she grit her teeth, determined to be better. 

“Better Miss Yoo.” Madame Dasom said passing by once more, “you got the same line your mother had, finally.” 

After the class was over Jimin and Miju went to another class with each other. 

“Jiminiie, are you excited for the show? It’s almost November.” Miju said as they walked. 

“We still need to get that lift down, and then we’ll be ready.” Jimin replied.

“I think the scouts will love it if we nail the giselle lift, then we can get into a company together.” 

“Yeah, that would exciting getting into a company.” 

“What company would you want to get into?”

“I wouldn’t mind anything international, like New York or Royal Ballet.”

“Wait you want to go international? Didn’t you want to stay in Seoul?” Miju asked, she never heard Jimin mention any foreign companies. 

“I never said I wanted to stay local Miju, I’m open to whatever good offer comes my way.”

“You think you can go international?”

“Are you assuming my skills?!” Miju took a gulp when she heard Jimin’s last sentence.

“No, I just thought you were good enough for the national ballet.” 

“Don’t fill in whatever you don’t know with your own truth Miju. I’m going to aim for my best whether you think I can or can not.” Jimin said darkly, and started walk ahead of Miju. His mind flashed back to your face when he remembered you saying that line to him. Did she really think he wasn’t good enough on a worldly stage? Was he bound to only be the best in Korea? Wasn’t there a bigger stage out there for him? 

                                                           ~

“Let’s do it one more time.” Master Geonsik said. This class was practice for a males variation, all of the dancers were from the S ranked. Along with ‘Sleeping Beauty’ there was a competition coming up and Jimin was competing in it also. Even though it was all the S rank boys they all had to do the same variation. It was the variation you saw before, from Don Quixote. 

“Mister Park remember you must keep that smile on your face at all times.” Mister Geonsik said, “Even when you are finished you should still smile to the crowd as you bow. Your smile is a way of thanking your audience for watching you.” Jimin nodded in response. 

“Mister Jeon even when you are turning, you can not drop your smile and pick it up when you are facing the audience, just because you can not see them doesn’t mean they can not see you.” Mister Geonsik pointed out, and walked towards Jungkook who was practicing. Even though Jungkook never did anything the personally offend, Jimin couldn’t feel anything else but anger when he saw the young ballerino. Jungkook was hot on Jimin’s tail in ballet, he was young and a quick learner. When Jimin entered Etre he was younger that Junkook, but came in as a A rank dancer. When he was Jukook’s age he was promoted S rank, but Jungkook had no other Etre experience, this was his first year, and he got into Etre easily. Jimin was jealous, there was another dancer that maybe better than him, and so he was determined to do even better than he has done before. He wanted to go international in a prestigious company. 

                                                                ~

When you woke up it was really late for you, Sehwa was already gone, also Jaewook, but your parents were still at home. You quickly grabbed a piece of fruit to eat. You were now behind in orders because of yesterday and now, since you didn’t get an early start.

You rushed through the bustling city, pushing your way through the people to get to Delladova, you burst through the glass doors, and tied on your work apron as you stared at your orders. Thankfully none of your dancers were having major performances, so you didn’t need to make too many pointe shoes, but there was a large order of slippers. Slippers were easier and faster to make than pointe shoes though, but quality craftsmanship was still needed to put in. Dancers could tell if their slippers were off. You got work first by creating all of the dance slippers, they were simple to make, all you needed to do was draw out the foot pattern, and the rest was just sewing, there was no component that had to be crafted. Every part of the shoe was sewn on to the main fabric. You went down your list quickly until you noticed that Jimin placed an order. It was an order for performance slippers, but in black satin specifically. Your dad looked over your shoulder as you read the piece a paper. 

“Oh an order from a Park bellerino, come with me, I know how to help.”  Your dad said, you followed him to the grand fabric room in Delladova. In the room was rolls upon rolls of satin in multiple colors. Pink, white, and black were the most dominate colors of fabric in the room. Your father went all the way to the rolls of black satin and pulled at matte black bolt. 

“This is the most expensive black satin right now in Delladova.” He said as he carried it back out to a large work bench. He unrolled the satin out across the table, pulled out two desk lamps that were on opposite end of the table, and turned the lamps on. 

“You have to look for the smallest flaws, if you think he won’t notice the flaw, trust me he will. Make sure you don’t snag the satin either, I will help look for flaws too.” Your dad instructed, and the two of you started to inspect the dark fabric. You guys probably spent a good hour trying to find a good area until you finally found a part that will make several pairs of slippers, and were consistent. You cut off that one part of the fabric from that bolt and took it back to your our own table to trace out the patterns of Jimin’s show. With a steady hand and the sharpest pair of scissors, you cut out the patterns with sharp clean edges. You were about to walk over to the sewing machines and sew the shoes together until you dad put a roll of the black thread on your desk. 

“Use this instead of the standard thread later, Park Jimin won’t yell at you when he gets these slippers.” You nodded and took the thread with you. You noticed that the thread was thinner, but stronger than regular standard thread. It was amazing that there were so many different combinations of thread and fabric to make a different shoe to conform to a certain dancer. That’s what every day people do no see when they watch ballet, every shoe is very much different from the other. Makers work long and hard to make the shoe they are asked to made. You loaded up the spool of thread into the sewing machine and sewed the shoe together, watching it come together as you pressed more thread in. You finished the five pairs Jimin ordered and bagged them up to be taken to Etre’s shoe room.

You worked through out the whole day, and late into the night. You let out a monstrous yawn as you sat alone in the dark factory, the lamp at your work bench was the only light on. You tenaciously pounded at the toe box with your hammer to just shape it right until you were content with it. It was a thicker toe box, so you had to pound it harder, you were so focused on your work until you noticed there was red leaking onto the head of your hammer. You placed your hammer back onto your work bench and saw two giant blood blisters on your hand, they weren’t common for you, but you got them more often than older makers since their hands were already rough unlike yours.  The one on your palm already popped, and the last one thankfully was still intact. When you were just about to get the first aid kit you got a text from Chaerin. 

Riniie: All of us have dinner for you outside of Deladova, come out. 

(y/n)iie: What do you mean by ‘all of us’?

Riniie: You know, me, Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin, the whole ballet squad. 

You remembered that you told Chaerin that you had to work late tonight, and couldn’t hang out. You wrapped your hand in some paper, and grabbed the first aid kit. When you got outside Chaerin was right, her whole ballet squad was there. Even Sori and Miju. In all honesty you had no idea who Sori was, you just knew she was another S rank dancer and she was Taehyung’s partner. 

“(y/n).” Chaerin squealed as she ran to embrace you. 

“Chaerin!” You said as you hugged her back. Jimin was actually surprised to see you act this way and hug Chaerin, you only let your guard down when you were with Chaerin or Hoseok. Yoongi walked over to you and held out a to go box that had a few slices of pizza in it. 

“Chaerin made sure none of us ate the last four slices.” He said as he held it out to you. 

“Oh..uuuhhh….” You started as you tried to figure out how to grab it. You transferred the first aid kit your tissue wrapped hand that already looked like the flag of Japan. 

“What happened your hand?” Namjoon asked as he spotted your blood. 

“If I show you none of you guys can scream.” You said, and got ten head nods as a response. You dropped the tissue to the ground for you had no other free hand and hung the first aid kit on the pinkie finger of the hand that was holding the pizza. 

You held up your hand so they could see the bloody blister on your palm, and the dark maroon blister that was in the inside of your knuckles. They were both about as big as a nickel and really unappealing to the eye. Hoseok shrieked in terror and held on to Chaerin. 

“What the hell?!” He screamed out loud into Chaerin’s poor ear. 

“I told you not to scream you big baby!” You yelled back. 

‘Are you okay (y/n)?” Jin asked as he walked up to look at your palm, his motherly instincts kicking in. 

“I’m fine, these happen on occasion. I know how to deal with them.” You said, as Jin was about to grab your palm, but another hand stopped his. You were shocked to see Jimin’s ringed hand gripping onto the older’s wrist. Jimin actually had no idea where he was going with this, but he just felt like he had to stop Seokjin from touching you. 

“Jimin why are you holding on to him?” Jungkook asked. Jimin blinked back into reality, and let go of Jin.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you not to touch the blister because it could get infected.” He said smoothly making up an excuse.  

Jimin grabbed the first aid kit from your hands and pulled out two alcohol strips. He ripped open one the clean his hands. He offered his clean hand out to you, and placed your bloody hand in his, palm up. The pool of blood and dark maroon boil looked painful. Jimin dabbed the cloth over the bloody skin, soaking up the liquid. It really stung, but you sat there like an obedient child. Jimin noticed your teeth digging into your lips so you wouldn’t make any noises out of pain. When all of the bright blood was wiped clean, you were left with a ripped up palm with red skin. It looked like the other blister, but deflated now. Jimin grabbed out a band aid, and without touching the sterile piece he wrapped it around the open wound. When his hand left yours, you immediately closed your hand. 

“You know you shouldn’t pop blood blisters, they can get infected easily.”  He said firmly, but you took that in the wrong way, you thought his tone was condescending. 

“I didn’t mean to pop it, I told you yesterday I am not an idiot.” You snapped. No one said anything for a few short moments, that felt long to all of you. In those moments Miju was analyzing everything what just went down: ‘Jimin doesn’t do that for me when I have blisters and bruises, and I have them all of the time. Why did he wrap her wound? Is he falling for her more?’ Miju thought . Jimin never paid attention to girls at school, and all the time he was swarmed. Girls would crowd him in class, they would clamor to sit close to his table at lunch, and they would push and shove so they could watch him practice from the small door frame. Was it because you weren’t easy and he was trying to get you? But he did mention you being annoying and smart mouthed, wouldn’t those turn him away from you?

“Guys we should probably go, it’s almost curfew.” Namjoon said, as he slid he phone back into his pocket after checking the time. 

“Thanks for the food, I really appreciate.” You said, not really sure who you were directing it to, but you wanted to get your gratitude out there. You turned and walked away from Jimin without another word, back into Delladova, where you could be safe from the world around you.

You sat down at your desk and ate while you looked at your injured hand, your rotated your hand, switching between the blandness of the back of your hand, and the uneven patchiness that was your palm. The awkward off flesh color of the band aid and the swollen deep wine red blister. While you were looking at your hand you realized what you said to Jimin was stupid, he was only trying to help you, you didn’t have to be mean about it. You sighed and hung your head as you pulled your phone out. 

Spoiled Siegfried: Sorry…for how I snapped at you before. That wasn’t meant to happen….I don’t really know what happened honestly. I was cranky, hungry, and tired, which isn’t really a justifiable excuse for what I did, but I am still sorry. 

Jimin heard his text tone go off and he fished his phone out of his jeans and read your text. Without him knowing a small smile forced its way on to his face, you were always honest, and wanted to cut the cutesy crap. Your main goal wasn’t to impress Jimin with looks or how cute you were. You weren’t even trying to impress him, but you were through your acts of skill, talent, and hard work. Chaerin noticed Jimin smiling at his phone from the corner of her eye, and quickly just sent a text to you. 

Riniie: Did you just text Park Jimin something? Anything?!

(y/n)iie: Okay first, creep. Second, how did you know?

Riniie: Well, I just saw him smiling at his phone, and I know for a fact that he doesn’t smile at much 

(y/n)iie: Probably wasn’t my text than, I just sent a text apologizing for how mean I was being to him a few minutes ago.

Riniie: I heard he’s into honesty ;) 

(y/n)iie: I will not date Park Jimin, I’m just not into him. He irritates me, he always thinks I am lower than him, and he’s higher than everyone because he’s way better dancer. If he really thought of himself as on the same level as his peers he would pick a partner he could emotionally link to, and try different partners to dance with, not Yoo Miju. Just because she is the best female dancer at Etre doesn’t mean she has to be his partner. 

Riniie: You are right about many things there (y/n), but you forgot to say something else.

(y/n)iie: And what is that? 

Riniie: Jimin is a fast learner, everyday he learns just like you and I do. Just remember he is human, he did get sick and needed another person to help him. (y/n) you help him in many ways you may not even know. 

(y/n): I think I know what you are implying, and if I am right I’m going to say that here and now.

(y/n)iie: That’s bullshit. 

You rolled your eyes, and ate more of your pizza. You weren’t in the mood for more of Chaerin’s deep talks. 

                                                            ~

“(y/n) wake up.” A familiar voice brought you out of your comatose like state, and your eyes fluttered open. You looked up, as you were bathed in the golden chains that was the sun. In front of you was a face, a face you haven’t seen in five years. 

“Grandma?” You whispered out. Where were you? You looked above your head and instead of the sun it was actually night, and you were under millions of colorful paper lanterns. You were at the lotus lantern festival, it was one of your favorite events, because it was another time of the year where your grandmother would dress you up in your hanbok, and she would wear hers, so the two of you could watch all of the lights. You noticed that your blisters were gone from your hands, at your wrists was covered in the gold embroidery was stitched on to the sleeves of your childhood hanbok. If you looked down to your feet, they were hidden by the blue fabric of your bell skirt. 

“(y/n) go and play, your friend is waiting for you.” Your grandmother crouched down to your level and held you close, as she pointed in the direction of boy. He was standing in the middle of everyone he was also in festival dress. He had round cheeks that were plump, just like his lips. His eyes and nose had a familiar face, one you have seen before. Something was drawing you to him, and took one step after another in your tiny hwahyejang (shoes that go with the hanbok). You could have sworn you did not know this boy, but you did at the same time. a face you know, but could not put a name to. You tugged at his sleeve and he turned to face you, now you could see him full on, not just his side profile.

“Do you want to play with me?” 

                                                             ~

Jimin sat up in his bed in a cold sweat. It wasn’t hot in October, but he was still perspiring. The little girl’s voice was haunting his mind, she was a cute little girl bright eyes that were never one solid color. Different greens and blues would flit around quickly, she had fluffy cheeks, and medium sized lips. Most of her tiny body swallowed in blue, from the fabric of her skirt, and cute headband held her bangs back, shadows and reflections from the lanterns that hung above their heads danced across her skin, she had a bright smile, that just yelled fun. It was a face that was almost recognizable, but no name came to his mind when he saw the little girl. 

                                                            ~

You were rudely awaken when the sleep was shaken out of you. Your eyes rolled to the front of your head, and was met with the harsh factory lights of Delladova. Your eyes almost watered from the pain of lights. 

“(y/n) you fell asleep here?! No wonder you didn’t come home, you’re lucky we have that GPS in your phone, or else there would have been a massive manhunt for you.” You didn’t know what time it was, but it was already too early for your mother to be yelling at you. When you finally got your brain back in your skull you started to get back work, despite the pain in your hand. Pain, didn’t matter to you anymore, you learned how to numb it out while you worked. You were sitting at a sewing machine sewing more pointe shoes, when your mother sat next to you. 

“(y/n) can you go get Sehwa from ballet today? Most of my dancers have shows coming up and they need shoes. Your father has an appointment with ballet companies, and Jaewook will be at study hall tonight.” She said, you nodded response. It was the least you could do, you weren’t there at night to help in the house, and you weren’t there in the morning to help, you also didn’t drop Sehwa off at the bus, so someone else had to do it. You knew you had to leave an hour earlier than Sehwa’s dance practice, just to get there. So you planned to leave at seven, and just take the rest of the day off. 

You worked all day until it was ten minutes before seven. When you stood up, you got a news alert saying that a few lines in the subway were down, and could not be rode. Just by luck, the one to Sehwa’s studio was closed. You were going to have to take the bus now, and the bus was slower than the train. You mentally cringed at your horrible luck and stood up so you could walk out. You walked to the bus station that would bring you closest to Studio 8. While you were waiting for the bus, a blue sports car you were well antiquated with pulled up.  

“What are you doing here (y/n)?”

“Well doesn’t this feel all too familiar Park Jimin?”  You answered, there was no sarcasm or malice in your tone.

“I was picking up costumes. Now why are you at a bus stop?” 

“I need to pick up my little sister from ballet, and the bus is the only way I can get there right now, the trains are closed.”

“Get in,” Jimin said. 

“What?”

“I said get in, I’ll drive you.” Jimin said, enunciating every syllable in a teasing way. You pulled the car door open, sat in the passenger seat. 

“I’ll type in the address,” you said, and Jimin obliged, and handed you his unlocked phone. You typed in the address of the studio and gave it back to Jimin. You looked in the back of Jimin’s car and saw there were three costumes. A blue costume, that was plain, but the chest was decorated in many shades of blue feathers. There was a long sleeved white jacket that was embroidered in intricate patterns of gold, and white lace around the sleeves. The last one was a jacket with the vest made of a shiny matte gold fabric, and the collar was made of a blue, it was a soft blue tinted green, that gave an off blue look. It kind of reminded you of chlorine water. Each article of clothing was separated by the plastic film of dry cleaning bags. 

When you arrived at the studio, you were twenty minutes early. Since you took Jimin's car, you were able to get there faster than by bus or train. Jimin put the car in park and shut off the ignition, he was about to open the car door until you stopped him. 

"What are you doing?" You asked. 

"Getting out of the car obviously." 

"Then why? You can just leave when I'm gone." 

"And how are you going to get home?" 

"I'll find my way." You said not missing a beat. 

"What if-" 

"I don't care if you think it's unsafe for me." 

"I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about Sehwa's safety. What are you going to do?" You bit your lip as you contemplated your options. You hated to admit it, but he was right. 

"Fine, but I'm doing this for Sehwa."

"Then I guess we have mutual motives.” Jimin said as he walked with you into the building. Now that you were out of the car, you could finally see Jimin. He was wearing all black today. He had on a warm turtle neck that went up to his chin, that was under a leather jacket, with black jeans, and lastly he had on a pair of sunglasses that protected his sensitive eyes. You two sat together in the waiting room with the other moms. 

“My aren’t you two a pair of young parents.” Lady said nicely, “how old are you?” 

“We are not parents, I’m just waiting for my little sister.” You said, quickly. 

“What a nice boyfriend you have there, he went with you to see your little sister.” Another mother added. 

“I am not her boyfriend-”

“He’s an acquaintance, we’re co-workers.” You said, cutting Jimin off. “He only drove me here.”

“He drove you here?” The second mother said.

“If you ask me, he probably wants to be more than co-workers.” The first mother said, winking. 

“Never going to happen, I am fine right where I am.” 

“Aw, you might’ve just broken his heart.” The second mother said, teasingly nudging you. 

“(y/n) you have left me wounded.” Jimin said, feigning pain.

“You’ll be mortally wounded, if you don’t stop.” You hissed through your teeth. 

All the little girls started coming out from class wearing their little pink tutus that flounced as the ran out to see their guardians. There were girls from age six to twelve, they were all so so tiny and innocent you thought. Some of the older girls started to recognize Jimin. 

“Oh my god, is that Park Jimin?”

“It really is him?” 

“I love him so much, he’s such a great dancer.” 

“Why is he here?” Chatter started to erupt around him, and Jimin was flooded by little girls in pink who wanted pictures and autographs. He obliged, because he didn’t want to be rude in front of the girls’ guardians. 

“Unnie!!" Sehwa came running to you. You squatted down to her height with your arms open. Sehwa leaped into your arms and you held her close. 

“How’s my girl? I haven’t seen you since the other day.”

“Yeah, Unnie wasn’t there why?” She asked pouting, you were about to answer but, “Because of me.” You turned around to see Jimin walking towards you and Sehwa. 

“Unnie, you know Park Jimin?!” Sehwa squealed, Sehwa was also a fan of Jimin. She’s seen him dance when you took her to Chaerin’s recitals at Etre. 

“You know how Unnie makes shoes right?” Sehwa nodded her little head. 

“Well I make shoes for Jimin to dance in now. Yesterday, Unnie was with Jimin because I had to take care of him. Jimin was sick.” You explained your absence. 

“Like husband and wife?” Sehwa asked, tilting her head. Jimin almost snorted with laughter, and your cheeks burned. 

“Sehwa why would you say that?” You said.

“Because Unnie said that when you are with someone you love, you will take care of them no matter what.” Sehwa answered dutifully. Jimin was touched by her cuteness, and the more he looked at her, the more he realized she looked a like the girl from his dreams. Was that her? The little girl who asked him to play with her, she seemed outgoing enough. 

“I did say that, but Jimin and I do not love each other Sehwa.” You said.

“Unnie, you said it was bad to lie.” Sehwa said flatly. Jimin almost lost it, Sehwa definitely got her bluntness from you. 

“Sehwa I am one hundred percent telling the truth.” You said, Sehwa rolled her eyes.

“Whatever you say Unnie.” She said, and walked off to get her dance bag. When she came back with her bag she grabbed your hand and offered her hand out to Jimin. Jimin gladly took it because he thought Sehwa was super cute, and he also didn’t want to suffer the consequences from you if he didn’t. The three you walked hand in hand together to Jimin’s car, and Sehwa would swing yours and Jimin’s hands. Also she would fiddle with the rings that were on Jimin’s fingers on the hand that held hers. She’s never seen anyone wear as many rings as he does, and you barely wore rings because of work. You and Jimin were going to put Sehwa in the back seat, but all of his costumes took up the seats, and she didn’t have a car seat. So she was going have to sit in your lap, yeah, it was illegal, but maybe it was the safer option? You didn’t know. 

“Isn’t this car cool like Jimin oppa, Unnie?” Sehwa asked as she sat in her lap. 

“Yes, Jimin oppa is really cool.” Jimin said quickly. 

“The car is cool, but I’m not too sure if the driver is cool too.” You answered. 

“Sehwa, you also shouldn’t call Jimin oppa, you only met him today.” You scolded. Sehwa pouted and nodded her head up and down. 

“it’s okay Sehwa, you can call me ‘Jimin oppa’ if you want. I’ll be your older brother.” Jimin said, as he took one hand off of the steering wheel and pat Sehwa’s head. 

“See Jimin oppa will be my other oppa next to Jaewook oppa. Is that okay Unnie?” Sehwa asked turning to face you. You couldn’t say no, you nodded your head yes. Jimin remembered your house address, so he knew where to go. 

“So Sehwa are you going to Etre when you grow up?” Jimin asked. 

“Yes, I want to be just like Chaerin unnie, and be able to have a partner like her. I want to try to dance with another person.” Sehwa said excitedly. Ballet was Sehwa’s passion that she carried from you and Jaewook. Sehwa turned her head to see the glittering costumes in Jimin’s back seat. 

“Jimin oppa,” Jimin hummed in response. ���are those your costumes? are you going to be a prince?”

“Well aren’t you smart Sehwa? Those are my costumes for Prince Florimund  in ‘Sleeping Beauty’.” Jimin answered. 

“I love ‘Sleeping Beauty’, Unnie took me to watch ‘Sleeping Beauty’ at the national ballet. She had to work very hard for those tickets, she told me she had to make many pointe shoes to get those tickets.” Your cheeks flushed from embarrassment. It was good Sehwa was friendly and could talk to people, but sometimes she would let too much slip out. Jimin and Sehwa talked all the way to your house, you didn’t think Jimin could be this talkative, because Chaerin would say that he didn’t talk much in school, especially to other girls.  When you got back to your house you stepped out of Jimin’s car carrying Sehwa and her bag. 

“Did you want to come in? For tea or coffee?” You offered, as you adjusted Sehwa in your arms. Jimin pursed his lips out and thought about your offer. He was in a mental battle with himself, would his heart falter more, would he get hurt like last night. 

“Uh, sure. Coffee would be nice.” He said smiling. 

“Follow me.” You said as you opened the gate your house. Expertly you held Sehwa in one arm as you unlocked the door. When the door opened you were greeted with a dark house, no one was home yet. You stepped in your house and took off yours and Sehwa’s shoes, with Jimin following en suite. You set Sehwa down so she could go change into cleaner clothes, she sprinted into your room to change quickly. Jimin followed you through your house and he noticed a picture on the wall. He saw a framed picture of Sehwa in her hanbok. Now he knew that little girl wasn’t Sehwa, Sehwa had different hanbok from the other girl in his dream. Next t Sehwa’s picture was another little girl, that looked similar to her, but she was different in facial features. She was sitting in a swing with an elderly lady behind pushing the swing. The girl had a mega watt smile, and the sky blue skirt caught his eye. It was all coming together, from the hair, to the hanbok, and the smile, the girl in the dream was you as a girl. 

“Jimin are you coming?” You called out from the kitchen, Jimin pulled himself out from his day dream and walked into the kitchen. 

“You and Sehwa really looked alike when you were her age.” Jimin said, as you set down a mug of coffee in front of him. 

“Oh yeah? Well, I say she is the prettier one though.” You said, joking. 

“You are right, Sehwa is super adorable.” Jimin said, and took a sip of his coffee. 

“Unnie, I am hungry what is for dinner?” Sehwa asked as she came out from your room. Jimin noticed that he was intruding in your house and got up. 

“I should probably go, you know I have curfew.’ You understood and walked him out to the door. Sehwa ran and wrapped her arms around Jimin’s black jean clad legs.

“Good bye Jimin oppa, I’ll see you later okay?” She said looking up, Jimin smiled and mused her hair once more

“Good bye Jimin.” You said as you waved. 

“I’ll see you around (y/), Sehwa.” Jimin said, he wasn’t sure if he should hug you or walk away. He’s never hug any other girl his age, so it was safe not to hug you. He turned and walked to his car. You watched him get in his car and speed away. You walked back into your house and cooked dinner for Sehwa. 

“Unnie, I think Jimin oppa really likes you.” Sehwa as said as you two ate. 

“What makes you say that?”

“He is the only boy who’s ever agreed to come to our house.” You brought your hand to your face, because your seven year old little sister just dried roasted you. 

                                                               ~

+8 82- ***-****: Yoo Miju I want to met with you at the cafe near Etre, just you. Yourself.

Yoo Miju: Who is this? And how did you get my number? 

+8 82-***-****: This is Kang Duhi, the second year B rank student

Yoo Miju: Well lose my number Kang Dahui, I have no business in talking to you. 

+8 82-***-****: Are you sure about that?

+8 82-***-**** It’s about your partner Jimin and his maker, dandelion. Let me know if you interested. 

Yoo Miju:.....what day and what time do you want to meet? 

[thistherapylife]

Hi, I also grew up with an untreated BPD parent. I want to be a counselor but my trauma kind of worries me. This may be personal, but were you in therapy for a while to work through that? You don't have to answer. Also do you have any advice about it? Thanks! Also, love your blog

Heads up - this ask response may be a little hard for folks with BPD to read. It may not. Treat yourself gently. Let me be clear I’m talking about untreated BPD. Suicide/self harm/abuse mentions. This is my personal experience. It’s also the longest answer I’ve ever given so I’m pretty sure that no one will read it!

—-

Hey! Thank you for your kind words. I’m glad you enjoy your this blog! It’s really lovely to hear that people like my ramblings. 

You can absolutely be a therapist or a counselor coming from an abusive household or one with major mental illness. There are a lot of us out there. But it means that you need to do some heavy ass work on yourself so that you don’t harm your clients unintentionally. It’s actually good sign that you are concerned about the impact that your history may have.

Having an untreated BPD parent can make for a confusing and disorienting childhood. A lot of the things you are supposed to learn from your parent (in my case my mom) you end not learning because they haven’t learned those skills. My childhood was chaotic and abusive. My mom would do things like get mad at me and leave me place (the grocery store, the bookstore, etc.) from the age of 4 or so, then come back hours later stating that I had “wandered off.” She would tell me things hadn’t happened that had or vice versa. She would say I was overreacting when I was in pain from a chronic illness that she refused (and continues to refuse) to believe was real. Any emotion on my part or expression of desire was taken as an attack on her. She sent me to a really unethical therapist who would disclose what I shared in session so I learned to never share anything and shut it down (hiding a book in the bathroom of her office didn’t hurt). It wasn’t as bad when I was really young because there wasn’t any differentiation or individualization. She began telling me that she was going to kill herself and it was my fault in late elementary school after a supposed slight or rejection. This is the tip of the iceberg really. My way of coping with this was to internalize - everything really was my fault, I really was that horrible and to dissociate  - because that looked like compliance. Become quiet and small and maybe, maybe, I wouldn’t set her off. By the time I was in my teens, I was hospitalized for both suicidality, self-harm and an eating disorder. My treatment team and my custodial parent, along with the courts, decided to bar my mother access to me until I was 18 or unless I initiated contact. 

I was lucky. My other parent had been in therapy, was loving and supportive, consistent and stable, and got to me to all the therapy/psychiatry/doctor/nutritionist appointments that needed. They were able to coordinate with the school to make sure that I was still was able to graduate. I needed those years to grieve for the mom I didn’t have that everyone else seemed to. You may need to do this too. I also had to figure out what the fuck to do with these emotions. I was so angry and hurt all the time. I was so sad and overwhelmed. And I never got that attachment/attunement handbook that you are supposed to get from your parents when I was young so I had to figure it with my other parent, my therapist and my friends. The damage done by my mom (in addition to some other trauma) took my childhood and most of my adolescence so it makes sense that it will take some time to repair. I’ve noticed that most members of our dubious club end up in therapy intermentially. It’ll be important when you first seeing clients so you can see where your stuff pops up.

Now, you’ve made it this far and may you think fuck that sounds like a lot. I promise it’s doable - not necessarily easy but doable. When I went to graduate school, I went thinking I didn’t want to work with anything BPD related. Or teen related. Because I thought it would bring up too much counter transference stuff. It did bring up stuff but it wasn’t too much. I notice it most when I’m working with traumatized teen whose parent is obviously untreated personality disorder. I run the risk of over identification with the client or just unreasonable dislike of the parent. If the parent is involved and CPS has decided they aren’t a danger (whether or not I agree), you gotta work with the parent a little bit because being angry with parent won’t serve the client. I’ve told clients before - don’t mistake my desire for you to get appropriate care and treatment for a lack of anger or outrage that you were/are treated like this but my angry won’t serve you here. Because it won’t. You are going to have to learn what things upset you or that you struggle with. 

BUT you may have some skills in childhood that will work really well for you as a therapist. I’m really good at reading people and engaging emotions, because that skill was necessary to my survival. I can tell when a client will escalate and will usually be able de-escalate if we have an established relationship, because I used to have to manage my mom’s moods. I’m very good at boundaries because I need/ed them with my mom. I know how scary it is not to know what’s going on, so I am clear and explain what’s going on to my clients, checking in to gauge understanding and adapting to their feedback. Some therapists (especially newer ones) can have trouble separating themselves and the client’s outcome or feel bad when a client isn’t doing well. I don’t.  It’s what I love about therapy - it’s not about me. I’m super interested in knowing if something in the therapy is not working but clients are going to do their own thing. They are going to get mad at you or feel love or lust or like they want you to be their parent. But I don’t freak out about it. I deal with it appropriately, in session. Because I have a very defined sense of self that is outside of my identity as a therapist. 

I’m also very hard to read a lot of the time in session - pleasant, interested and engaged but my emotions, my countertransference are pretty hidden (another skill learned in childhood). It gives me so much versatility - I can really weigh whether or not modeling or expression emotion will help the client; whether what just happened in session needs to stop (most common - the case with language directed towards me) because it’s inappropriate or if we just need to talk about it; I can assess whether it’s my stuff coming up or not. Most importantly for the work I do? That neutrality makes me VERY calm in crisis situations. The client has big emotions? Okay. I’m not going to lose my shit. Client is dissociative? Okay. I can contain them. If it’s really intense, in the moment, I am calm and supportive, non excitable and enforce good boundaries and safety. If I’m going to freak the fuck out, it’s not going to be in the room. I may lose my shit in the car ride home or on the phone with my supervisor or with my partner. But if I did that in the room, it would be so unsafe for the client. Most of them have never had the experience of being well held in their emotions and I have that on lockdown. 

My experience prior to graduate school was that having BPD meant that you were going to be dangerous to me. That a relationship with someone with BPD would be intrinsically harmful for me. It’s not true though. I need boundaries sure. But people are people. You don’t develop BPD for a good laugh. It is birthed from survival and pain. And I can appreciate it and see that living with BPD is so fucking hard. And the people who are coming to my office for help, are struggling and in pain. I can see that in a way I never have been able to before. Interacting with people getting treatment for BPD and reading some of the stuff on tumblr has given me a much more nuanced, more adult view. So now I have empathy for what my mom experienced that meant she ended up the way she did. I’m sorry whatever happened, happened to her. 

But I can also hold that she was abusive, but not all people with BPD are. I have compassion the self that held a childish view of BPD = abusive because it was keeping me alive but that no longer serves me. I know it’s a distortion based on my history.  I also don’t want a relationship with her because she is toxic and will continue to be toxic if I let her into my life. We have transactional relationship around a specific series of issues that we’ll be managing until everyone is involved is an adult. I don’t have feelings towards her - I don’t feel affection or safety. When I’m scared or sad, I don’t want to call her. I didn’t tell her that I was having a major surgery until 30 minutes pre-op, because I knew that I didn’t want to deal with fall out if I didn’t. I called my other parent, my step dad and my partner when I was freaking out before surgery. I don’t feel anger anymore most of the time towards. I’ve been able to mitigate her damaging effect on other. I have a number of “moms” and mentors in my life to fill that role. I struggle with the idea that she’s a “bad person,” because I know she developed these skills to live. But I can see how my childhood/adolescence abuse put me in a position where I was victimized by others.  But I also know that she was abusive and I will not allow to happen to me anymore.

TLDR; yes you can. Go to therapy. Figure out what shit is going to come up for you. Don’t be surprised when it does and take care of yourself with your friends/family or therapist/supervisor/mentor. Journal or find your own way to explore your patterns. Learn to cultivate a diversity of relationships. Remember you can ask for help and not be ashamed about it. It’s possible. I promise. If you do the work. If you have any more specific questions - hit me up off anon. 

[theliterateape]

Reflections on My Year as a Windy City Empire Duchess

By Elizabeth Harper

The shenanigans my friend Kate gets me into.

I’d been to a few of the Windy City Empire events to support my friend and because I really love drag shows and a lot of them happen at a neighborhood bar, Charlie’s Chicago, which is walking distance from where I live in Boystown in Chicago, the oldest officially recognized gay neighborhood in the United States. A country and western themed gay bar that also hosts drag shows, karaoke, burlesque, as well as country line and two-step dancing, Charlie’s is the home bar for the Windy City Empire, the Chicago chapter of the International Court System.

Then Kate asked me to be one of her duchesses. I thought to myself: What is this silliness? Why emperors and empresses, princes and princesses, dukes and duchesses? I’m an anarchist. I don’t get hierarchy. I can’t keep all these titles straight. What is this about? And what does a duchess do anyway? Like I don’t have enough on my plate already?

Then of course I noticed things on their Facebook page I wanted to fix. Even though I don’t want any responsibilities, I fall into them, mainly because I have opinions about how to fix Facebook pages.

So I became Empress Kate’s Duchess for Empire 15 of the Imperial City Court of the Prairie State Empire, or Windy City Empire for short.

I didn’t know about the International Court System before Kate got me involved, but I certainly feel like I should have known about it. It has a fascinating and important history. The revered Mama José Sarria, an advocate for civil rights, for all people but especially gay and trans people and drag performers, was the first Empress. The organization’s guiding ethos is to have fun while raising money for charities in their communities: “Raising Money One Dollar at a Time. From the Heart, Through the Court, For the Community.” Started in 1965, what came to be today’s International Court System is one of the largest and oldest LGBTQ+ organizations in the world, with over seventy chapters or “Empires” in the United States, Canada, and Mexico.

There are many aspects that I feel I still don’t understand, such as the significance and responsibilities of the various roles and titles. In the beginning, there seemed to be an awful lot of rules, for example about something they call “Protocol,” which has to do with how people are introduced and described when doing their “walk” at Coronations, the yearly gala events each court holds to celebrate the end of one reign and usher in the new Emperor and Empress. But by this year’s Chicago Coronation in November, I came to realize a lot of it was just about being silly, in the spirit of camp.

Camp is the key to understanding what’s going on with all these titles, the formalwear, the very large costume jewelry, and the significance and subversiveness of the International Court System. Interestingly enough Susan Sontag’s iconic essay on camp was published in 1964, close to the founding date of the court system in 1965. Here’s an updated evaluation of camp by Bruce LaBruce, who happens to be the director of one of my favorite movies of all time, The Misandrists,

While writing this, I was motivated to watch Paris Burning on Netflix, which gave articulation to some things I had been thinking about, some insight into these glamorous, if tongue-in-cheek, performances of royalty, pomp and circumstance.

I very much enjoy performing in drag. I like practicing the numbers. I love music, but I can’t sing at all, so dancing around and lip-synching is a great outlet for me. I’ve never been much for costumes and makeup. At first I didn’t want to spend too much money on it until I decided I liked performing drag at their shows. But now that I’ve decided that I like it, I’m building up my collection: a couple of wigs; sports bras in lieu of binders; men’s clothing from eBay and thrift stores, etc. I have two drag characters: a male, Hipster Ken; and a female, Cougar Barbie.

Drag is a way for me to share my love of music, dance, performance, and gender-bending. I’ll get more involved with the costume and makeup aspect as I pursue it. It will be like I’m my own doll to dress up!

I like the people, especially some of the drag performers and kinky fetish people I’ve met. Some of the drag performers have helped me think about my drag characters and their help has been invaluable. Also, I just like being around other kinky people.

I also like raising money for good causes. I was especially proud that Kate chose Project Fierce Chicago, which helps homeless LGBTQ+ youth, as her cause. We will continue to raise money for Project Fierce as one of our causes in the upcoming year. Currently they’re focused on their Emergency Relief Fund for young people who need funds to keep housing or assistance with barriers that could lead to homelessness. Some folks who have received funds have been homeless and needed assistance with basic necessities. Additionally, the PFC Emergency Fund has been able to provide critical financial resources to LGBTQ+ young adults experiencing housing instability who needed support making rent payments, covering utilities like electricity and gas, accessing Ventra passes, and purchasing essential household goods.

I like putting little shows together like my singer-songwriter night . One of my Duchess duties was to organize an event. Putting together a show is a responsibility, but the payoff is that I get to realize my vision. I like coming up with an interesting bill of performers.

Yes, there’s the raising money for charity, but that’s not the whole point. If I wanted to give money to charity, I could just write a check or click on a Paypal link. These shows that we do are about visibility, awareness, community. I was able to sell people on the idea of the show partly because of the cause. I like creating these win-win-win situations where the venue and the performers and the cause all benefit from their shared association with the event.

Mainly the various courts put on drag shows. The tips the performers collect go to charity. About half of all court members are drag performers. Most of the rest are some variant of LGBTQ+, though all are welcome to be members. There is definitely a desire and a push to be diverse and inclusive.

The most striking event for me was the Out-of-Town Show I saw when I went to Buffalo, New York for their Coronation weekend. People of all different ages, sizes, shapes, races, genders gathered together, many in full drag or campy formalwear, performed on a stage in a packed bar. In all the performances, I saw people sharing themselves and their love of music.

In talking with the various people I met that weekend, and also with my fellow Chicago court members, I’ve come to understand that, for a lot of them, the court is a way of developing their own leadership and organization skills through the responsibilities that their royal titles bestow upon them. It is also a form of activism, a way for them to take action on issues that are important to them. Throughout the history of the organization, a lot of the causes supported have been AIDS-related, both research on the disease itself and support for the people suffering from it. I know many members care deeply about the upcoming LGBTQ+ generations. Hearts go out to those in small towns, some in the Bible Belt, who suffer because of their sexual orientation or gender identity, some dealing with bullying and rejection from church and family members, some depressed and alone, some even suicidal or homeless.

When I first got involved with the court, members kept telling me it was like a family, which was not a selling point for me. Family has associations of obligations and conflict for me, though I guess, for some people, it has associations of acceptance and security.

I became more aware of drag families. It was very sweet to watch drag mothers with their drag daughters, bringing them gifts and taking pride in their accomplishments.

I’m looking forward to performing at future Windy City Empire events. Being a member of the court is a responsibility, but it’s a lot of fun too.

Feature photo: Duchess Elizabeth in tux next to Empress Kate in her ball gown. Photo credit to Joseph Stevens.

[blkwidowsweb]

Chicago Spotlight: A Conversation with Sean Ali

DeShawn Ali, better known as DJ Sean Ali in the world of House Music, is a DJ/Producer and Label Owner.  His genuine love for music started at an extremely early age. Just like most families in the city of Chicago, he was introduced to a variety of genres of music in his household. When his father was not around, he would take his dad's albums, read the credits, and listen to the music from start to finish. There was blues, jazz, gospel, R&B, soul, rock, new jack, and everything under the sun. It did not matter to him because he just simply loved music across the board.  DJ Sean Ali was introduced to house music as a teenager in the mid-80's. Out of all the genres of music that he loved, there was something about House Music that he became fascinated with and passionate about. What he loved was that it had a taste of every type of music all rolled up into one. He became influenced by legendary house heads like Lil Louis, DJ Les, Danny Calco, Nu-Wave, and Alley Cats.  He has a great respect and admiration for what they brought to house music and for what they were willing to pass on and share with him. He went from spinning at block parties to skating parties, school parties, block parties, to family reunions, you name it. His name soon started to become the buzz in the house music world of fellow DJs. Soon after, he would be sought after for weddings, and booking gigs at major venues like Zentra, Betty Blue Star, Funky Buddha Lounge, Smart Bar, Prop House, China Club, and Jun Bar. He thinks of himself as a stress reliever for the public. His skill has taken him to many places as well. He has traveled to places like Detroit, Fort Lauderdale, NY, Mexico, and the Dominican Republic. He is also highly respected by his peers as well because he has taken his craft to new heights and he is constantly expanding and giving back the way others gave to him. 

To date, Sean Ali has multiple chart topping releases beyond "Sacrifice, such as "Still Standing" with co-production by Terance James featuring Thea Denee, "Electricity" remix off the Soul Element EP, featuring Sheree Hicks, "Hypnotic" EP featuring Sheree Hicks, including a bonus track called "Magic", "Dream Come True with co-production by Terance James Featuring Sheree Hicks, "Miles Away" EP and "Green Light" featuring Sheree Hicks which made top 20 on the soulful charts, "Present To Win," Featuring Rashaan Houston, "Love Is In the Air" Remix, produced and written by Sean Ali and Sheree Hicks, featuring vocals by Sheree Hicks as well, all available on traxsource.com. Recently, along with Sheree Hicks, Sean was co-writer of Sheree's new release on House 4 Life records, the title track "Celebrate" which also had remixes by Doc Link of Liberate Records, J. Caprice, and Milty Evans.  

I had a chance to speak with him about his various projects and the evolution of his career. 

Black Widow:  Can you tell me a little bit about your background and what part music played in your life growing up?

Sean Ali:  My father was good friends with a lot of musicians and singer/songwriters from back in the day.  He would take me to the record store or the musicians would come to the house.   I was immersed in old school music because it was always played in the house. My dad loved to play his records.  I wanted to learn more about the artists that I was listening too, where it came from and who produced it. I was always into it. That was the beginning of my musical journey.

Black Widow:  I totally relate. My grandparents were jazz musicians performed with some of the greats at The Apollo and Club Delisa and we used to have a ton of people at the house!  My grandma would host parties at her home with some of the singers and dancers and I would listen to their stories. It was fascinating. 

Sean Ali: Right, Same here. There were times Jerry Butler, the “Chi-Lites”, some of The Artistics, and others were at our house too.    I had no clue who they were until I was older.

Black Widow: So your dad was an avid music lover?

Sean Ali:  Oh Yeah, he was also a photographer and worked with George Daniels at all his events too.    My dad was right there taking photos and show them to me… Keith Sweat, Run DMC, LL Cool J. He would be at concerts and parties all the time.  I couldn’t help but like music.  My dad is my role model, so I take after him in many ways.

Black Widow:   So when did you discover house music?  What drew you to it?

Sean Ali: Good Question!   So, Byron Stingley stayed like a few homes down from me and Lil Louis lived around the corner.

Black Widow:  Oh wow!  I had no idea!

Sean Ali: Yeah we are all from the same neighborhood.  When I would listen to music at home, I always listened to both sides.   I noticed the B-side would have a groove to it. So when I would go to parties in the neighborhoods or go around Lil Louis crib (they’d play music in the back a lot), and it would be the same music I heard at home but the B-side versions.  I’d go home and dig through all the records that had a faster tempo on those B-sides and listen to them all.  A lot of my friends in the neighborhood didn���t really go to house parties because they thought it was strange.  You know we were more…you know… thuggish!  [LAUGHTER]  The house scene was preppy then!

I knew I liked the music so I decided to check a party out and I remember walking in and watching how they were dancing, how they got along and interacted with each other, how they played the music and I was sold! 

Black Widow:  Do you remember the first party you went to?

Sean Ali:  Wow! Yeah, it was at a friend’s house. He was deep into house music. He was a few years older than us. That’s when I really experienced it.   It was around 1984/1985 and I was maybe 15 years old.  I heard every disco song ever at his house.  I was bugging him, who sings that? Every week he’d play music at the house and I was like a student taking notes, writing down the artists who were on these records.    As far as some of the larger parties, I think my first party was at the Bismarck.  I used to go there on a regular. I was too young to go to Sauer’s and stuff like that.  I know folks say they were there but I’m only 45 you know what I’m saying?

Black Widow:  Same here! I was too young to go to any of those spots!

Sean Ali: Yeah I wasn’t even trying to get into those parties. [laughter] I’ve been to COD’s before, but I never experienced The Underground and Original Warehouse and stuff like that, but my uncles and aunts would go. I was going to the Bismarck, The New Warehouse, the Alcatraz and Elbo Room. 

Black Widow:  So when did you did you decide you wanted to DJ and how did you learn?

Sean Ali:  About 1990/91, my neighbor was DJing and we lived across from each other. My bedroom window faced his bedroom window. DJ Boxx used to live upstairs from him.

Black Widow:  Get out! All of y’all lived around each other! That’s crazy!

Sean Ali:  I moved to Forest Park and in our building, we would always hear someone playing house music and we would be like who is that? All the DJs were in the city on the southside and we were in Forest Park, so it was unusual to hear house music like that.  I asked a friend who he was, and he told me his name was TJ and I said, I need you to introduce me to him.  I wanted to sit down with him.  Even before that, I would go to friends’ houses and try and mess around a bit on equipment but back then people didn’t want you messing up their turntables’ trying to scratch and do tricks like that.   I had my own equipment, but I needed someone to show me how to get started.  I had a friend named Lester and Dannon who would show me the ropes but I was more comfortable with TJ because he was younger, around my age. I’d go to his house and chop it up with him and borrow records and get a feel for it.  I still wasn’t serious about it though because I was too busy going out.

Black Widow:   Enjoying the parties and music!

Sean Ali: Yeah I was enjoying it more than I was playing it back then.  I got serious out it late 90s/2000s.  I stepped away from it for a while and got into hip-hop a bit then I started promoting parties; like Ice Bar and stuff like that.  The money was good but the gangs, drug money and stuff like that took me away from it.  It went a different direction and I had to leave it.   After I left hip-hop, I didn’t know where I wanted to go.  I knew I didn’t want to go stepping every night but I still loved that club scene. 

Black Widow:  Yeah, you didn’t want to deal with all that extra stuff. I get it.

Sean Ali: Yeah and when I got married, I moved up north and started hanging with Chris Underwood and feeding myself back into the game a little bit but because I was up north, I was at Betty’s, The Note, Ventra, Red Dog…

Black Widow:  See that’s where I was going because I was living up north back then too in Wicker Park.  So I didn’t start coming south to party until about 10 years ago. Everything I did was north back then.

Sean Ali:  Same here!  I think the Dating game was the first time I think I was at a south side spot.  Maybe around 2007. 

Black Widow:  So when you got back into it, who were some of your influences?

Sean Ali:  Oh Wow…whew!    I know people always say Terry Hunter but he was always one of my favorites. I loved his taste in music, how he produced music and how he selected and played music. It was always on point and I was never disappointed on the dance floor.  Vick Lavender as well, He was another one.  Vick was going to give you that soulful journey.  Dimitri from Paris, Lil Louis, Gene Hunt, Gene Farris, Lil John, Grant Nelson, Masters at Work, Joe Clausell…it’s so many, I hate to feel like I’m missing someone. It was dope because everyone had their own style and people weren’t trying to be like one particular person.

Black Widow:  When did you decide to get into producing?

Sean Ali:  About 2006 I think.  I knew how to program and produce because I was doing hip-hop tracks.  I would always buy equipment, beat machines, keyboards anything that was coming out.  I remember a friend was telling me I could make house music on this equipment. So, I started playing around with it and creating sounds, but I never put it out or took it seriously per say.  You know I never asked a “Terry Hunter” to check it out or a “Farley” to listen and/or play it. 

It wasn’t until I started to see the opportunities to get gigs dry up a bit that I realized I had to be more than a DJ.  To get that visibility as a house artist, you really had to be multi-faceted.  I knew I had to step my game up. DJ, Producer, Label owner…I had to at least do two out of three. I wasn’t even thinking about a label yet.

Black Widow:  So the label came after?

Sean Ali: Oh yeah, I had to get the producing down first.  I hooked up with a friend who was already doing great music.  We decided to link up and create “Sol4orce” around 2009. That’s around the time we linked up with Sheree (Hicks). We started working on some tracks but we would only give them to a few people. We were still nervous about giving them to bigger name DJs at the time.   We didn’t know if the music was strong enough yet.  We realized we needed some vocalists. So, we got Lafayette Parker to do a song for us in 2010 and we tried to shop it to a few labels. I wrote the song and I remember telling my brother, we got a hit! This a runner right here!  [LAUGHTER]

I remember telling folks “yo… when you see Terry (Hunter) or Ron (Carroll), let em know I got some heat!” [LAUGHTER] Thinking they are going to call me or approach me like “Hey I heard you got some heat, let me hear it” …. [LAUGHTER] That’s not how that works!

Black Widow:  Nope…not at all! [laughter]

Sean Ali:   I remember asking a cousin to find Sheree on Facebook because I wasn’t even on Facebook at the time.  We’ve known each other for a long time. She wasn’t even thinking about doing any house music back then!

Black Widow:  Right! That’s what she said when I interviewed her!

Sean Ali:  Yeah, I reached out to her and told her what I was doing, and she told me what she was doing.  I had to convince her that she could do house music.  I told her about the sound that I was hearing in house music and sent her YouTube videos of Stephanie Cooke because I knew she would like her style and she loved it.  So, I sent her a track and the next day she sent over the vocals and that’s how I got my first song with Sheree Hicks.  It’s so dope because it was a song I was confident in too. 

Recording with Sheree was so intimidating initially because she was already out here doing her thing with some big names.  I was on pins and needles.  I used to travel with her back in the day so I knew she worked with some big name cats and here I am in a studio apartment with her and engineers that were scared to mess up. [laughter] "you push the button…nah you push the button"…

No one wanted to mess up so I stepped in. I remember after it was done, she said, “I don’t like it, it doesn’t sound right. I was like WHAT!  [laughter] I knew I could learn from her. I couldn’t’ act like I knew everything or like I was too good to learn. She knew people that would help me and teach me. I knew we had something special and she took me to another studio with professionals and hooked me up with a cat named Chris and he really knew what he was doing. The way he recorded her vocals left me speechless.   

Black Widow:  That’s dope that you understood that I’m new to this and I can still learn...

Sean Ali:    It was a great experience and from that one song, I was ready to get it out there.   I was confident now and I had Sheree Hicks so I was feeling myself.  I remember running into Stacy Kidd at Green Dolphin and telling him about it. I sent it to him and he took a listen and loved it.  He wanted to put it out and that was it after that.  It was called “Sacrifice”.    Sheree had this subtle and smooth voice and I knew the music was going to be different from what other producers were doing. 

Black Widow:  What made you decide to start a label?

Sean Ali:   I got tired.  Once I found my niche, I was doing songs daily. We were building our catalog and we were tired of sitting on it.  We wanted to get it out there. When you go through a label it’s always, “I can’t do it for three months, or change it or I don’t like it” and then if you do put it out, you aren’t getting paid what you think you should. It got to the point where I had to learn the business side and start to handle that. 

Black Widow:  It was the way you controlled your art…Artistic and financial control?

Sean Ali:    Yeah I wanted to know what I made, what I sold, and what’s happening with this music especially on the financial end.   I wanted to see the numbers.   That was one of the reasons I decided to run a label but I wasn’t sure how to go about it or even if I had time to do it.  Distributors, artists, contracts, other people’s business and stuff like that. I met up with Sean Houston and then I met Monk Julius and we clicked right away. He was about business 100%.  He was like start that label. 

Black Widow:  You had to learn the in’s and outs of the business…not just the creative stuff?

Sean Ali:   Yeah absolutely.  Sheree and I were at the same place at the same time. We met Josh Milan around that time too. I would send him stuff and ask for advice and he said the same thing…start your own label.  I had Monk, Sheree, and Josh telling me the same thing, so I was like, yeah, it’s time.  He had just started Honeycomb Music and he had someone call me and explain it to me.

Black Widow:  I love that! So many people act like we don’t share information and that we don’t help one another with different endeavors but that really isn’t the case.  It’s a lot of people that want to see everyone make it. 

Sean Ali:  Exactly!

Black Widow: That says something about the quality of people you keep around you.

Sean Ali:  Yeah Definitely.  Once I did and started getting paid…that was it.  I was all in! That’s how “Sounds of Ali” was born.  It’s been 4 years and counting now…

Black Widow:  And you have no regrets do you?

Sean Ali:  None at all!  I love it.  It’s just so dope because people ask me my opinion and want to shop music to me from all around the world. I love it!  It means a lot.

Black Widow:   Are you partial to a particular sub-genre of house music?

Sean Ali:  This is hard. I love good house music…just good music. It doesn’t matter to me. It can be deep house, jacking house, techno house, soulful house…it just doesn’t matter the sub-genre.   If it’s good, it’s good!   If it’s produced right, with great sound and melody, dope artistry, it can happen in any genre in house music. I just love good house music. 

Black Widow:   I love that answer! That’s it!

Sean Ali:  I do produce a lot of soulful house music because I love a lot of jazz sounds. That’s part of my background. That’s what I grew up listening to but I can groove to anything as long as it’s good.

Black Widow:   Good music just moves you!

Sean Ali:  Look, I’ve seen you dance before and your reaction to music.  So I know you get what I'm saying.  I see what music does to you and I see how connected you are to the music as an artist and as someone who just loves music. I saw you watching Dawn (Tallman) perform and you were in tears!

Black Widow: Yeah I had a moment!  Like For real!!!

Sean Ali:   Good Music…that’s what it does!  That’s power!   People try to be cool but I don’t care…it does something to you.

Black Widow:  I’m drawn to music that moves me.

Sean Ali:   That motivates me!  When I see that, that motivates me to go back into the studio and get to work.   I want to touch the heart and soul of people. I just enjoy all of that and it’s not just soulful house that does that.  That’s just good music. It affects people in so many ways; even with the spoken word…it touches people.  For example, I love Ursula Rucker…

Black Widow:   OMG! I can’t believe you mentioned her!  She’s literally my favorite modern day poet! I’m a huge fan of hers.

Sean Ali:  Yeah she’s dope.  I just dig her vibe!  You know It can be done and what you and (Dee Jay) Alicia did with “Rough”, you guys took it up a notch and gave it more energy with that strong afro vibe and those drum beats.

Black Widow:  Thank you so much! That’s so dope of you to say! What’s coming up for you in 2018?

Sean Ali: Monk Julius has joined the production team. You can create better with more hands!   We are working a lot together on various projects, including some Afro tracks to show our versatility.  We also are working with Tasha Larae from Arrested Development along with DJ Pope out of Baltimore on a track coming out on Quantize.  We have Lester Jay coming out too.   We got a couple of tracks out now on Traxsource.  Actually, we have one coming out the same time as you guys.  Jaleal Meadows is an artist under Chic Soul Music and we did two songs off of his EP that’s coming out on the 20th. 

Black Widow: That’s what I love. It’s so much new music coming out of Chicago right now. 

Sean Ali: I love it when we all have releases coming out. It’s good for Chicago. Terry (Hunter) got joints, Mike (Dunn) got joints, Greg (Winfield) has a #1…

Black Widow: If you look at all of the artists just right now from Chicago on the charts,  it’s so different but it’s all dope!

Sean Ali: Right! Everything!! Soulful, Jackin, Afro, we are out here!

Black Widow:   Yes we are creating…Chicago is creating good music!  

Sean Ali:  So much and we all make the city shine! That’s what it’s all about!

Black Widow:   What does it mean to be a Chicago artist and represent your city?

Sean Ali:   Wow that’s major!   It means the world to me.  I’m going to represent Chicago anywhere I go.  You have to understand that Michigan Avenue used to be full of record labels back in the day.   It’s so many musician’s from here who impacted the music world from so every other genres too.    Chaka Khan, Curtis Mayfield, The Chi-Lites, The Stylistics, Frankie Knuckles, Ron Hardy…it’s so many!   You can go on and on!  Chicago is not just the mecca of House Music, we are a huge part of Music Culture!  I feel like a millionaire being from Chicago…our history is just so rich!!! Growing up in the house scene, you have access to people who are considered legends. We have access to so much talent here! It’s a blessing.

Black Widow:  Indeed we take for granted the quality of musicians and artists we have here and the access we have to them. That’s something that you don’t get anywhere else!  Thank you so much for speaking with me and I wish you nothing but continued success and growth!

Sean Ali:  Thank you! It was my pleasure. I love what you are doing with the site and with your music. I can’t wait to check out “Fenix”!

Black Widow: Thank you! I’m really excited about the song!   I appreciate that!

Thanks for checking out my latest interview with a musical creative from Chicago! I hope you enjoyed it. 

Until next time, see ya on a Dance Floor!

Black Widow

 You can find Sean Ali at the following:

On Traxsource

On YouTube

Facebook: Sounds of Ali Music

Twitter: DJseanAli

Instagram:  SoundsofAli

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