#I wonder how someone who must’ve enjoyed entertaining and singing for an audience

[dandylions101]

Sometimes I wonder if people flinched when they heard Maglor’s voice again in Valinor? It’s still as strong (maybe stronger), as beautiful (but not the same kind of beauty anymore), and dangerous (that one was new). Did they view his voice as the weapon it became? What does Maglor think of this? Does it hurt knowing no performance of his would ever be enjoyed again, at least for a long time? Now even his Feanorian followers don’t stare with awe. Even their eyes are filled with wariness of this master returned from all hope. They don’t even stare at Maedhros like that. Maglor’s seen them stare at his brother like that before though-

[squiddybeifong]

Can I ask for Damirae: You asked me whether I had a crush on someone, then cried when I said I did (because I'm crushing on you). It seems unlikely that either would get drunk, so maybe dami's on some heavy pain medication? Please? I really want to see Damian act like a overemotional dork in front of all his friends and family (who might not have noticed his crush). OOOOo, I wonder how Raven would react after he's conked out....

Morphine

on ao3 here:

–

He was an idiot. 

His condition was stable and hopefully the morphine would keep any pain she couldn’t take away at bay, but he was an absolute idiot. Pushing her out of the way and getting beamed with half a car in her place was Jon-levels of impulsive; Raven bit back a sigh as she tried to ignore the Kryptonian’s nervousness from the common room. The team-up was a success but he didn’t have the invincibility to take this kind of damage willy-nilly.

Raven readjusted her spot in the chair before her legs could fall asleep, still carefully keeping watch over him. She was hopeful with the recent shift in his emotions that he’d be waking up soon, but she kept muttering about his haphazard idiocy under her breath. 

Her hands kept flicking over everything; lifting his lids to check his eyes, prodding to ensure his IV was correct (even though it’d been perfectly in place the last four checks), running her fingertips over the monitors’ as she reread their signs, methodically pulling the bits of frayed edges off the cot’s blankets, fiddling with her rings and the singed ends of her hair when she ran out of IVs to occupy her mind with. 

Sitting directly across from her, Jason wasn’t too concerned. No, with an arm slung over his chair and one boot resting on the cot, his hoodless face was calm as he alternated between checking his phone and stealing glances at his unconscious brother’s face. 

He ran a glove through his hair as a message came in, a relieved sound coming from the back of his throat. Raven glanced his way, “Oracle received everything?”

“Yep.” Red Hood slid his phone back in his pocket and reclined in his seat until it balanced in the air, crossing his legs as they set on the blankets. Raven rolled her eyes and shooed his boots off the cot with a flick of magic. Snorting as his chair slammed back down, Jason crossed his arms and glanced at Damian’s face again, “Now all we need is for baby bat to wake up and I can get outta here.”

She hummed at that, biting back a “Think of the devil” as Damian’s nose twitched.

Raven hurried to lean over him, holding down his hand so he couldn’t accidentally pry the IV loose as he shifted again, “Damian?”

His chest heaved as he took in a deep breath, groggily grumbling as he was regretfully pulled back into consciousness. It took him a minute, but eventually olive eyes creaked open and Damian squinted at the light. He closed them again as the mage wiped his lashes clean, a lopsided grin forming when Raven pulled back and the fluorescence haloed her head. 

The swordsman tried to let out a giddy laugh and hissed at the pressure against his ribs. Raven put a hand to his side, her brows jumping nearly to her hairline as he drawled out, “Heeeey.” 

The mystic paused, her head tilting to the side. Jason snickered at the sight of Damian being anything but his uptight, sober self and brushed aside the pointed look Raven aimed his way from the corner of her eyes. He decided to wait a bit longer before leaving; this was shaping up to be quite entertaining. 

The empath took a calming breath, trying not to react to the equal parts happiness and confusion that was radiating off him. Her eyes were concerned as she got his attention –even though a tiny part of her knew full well that she’d have it the whole time he was in this state, “Damian.”

His brows furrowed and he reached for her, “Why are there three of you?”

“That might be the concussion talking,” Raven hummed out. Her hand angled his face up to check his eyes again, “Sorry if I’m a blurry mess.”

“Don’t worry, Hiyati,” The swordsman’s head lolled as he relaxed against the pillows, leaning his cheek into her palm. “Even blurry Raven is too pretty to be a mess.”

She felt Jason’s sharp spike of amusement before she heard his bark of laughter and flushed. Raven cleared her throat as she pulled her hands away, the clink! on her fingers bringing Damian’s gaze to the jewelry. 

“Oh!” He sloppily pointed at her hands, “Can I see?”

The demoness blinked once and, deciding that it couldn’t hurt to indulge him and his intoxicated curiosity, gave him her left hand. Still far too out of it to conceal his features, Damian ogled at the silver and onyx that graced each of her fingers. He almost let go as he leisurely turned to stare at her. His pupils wide, he squeezed the tips of her fingers and Raven’s brows jumped to her hairline as he pouted (actually pouted! Kory must’ve ordered some strong morphine) and sadly brought her hand up to his face again. 

Damian rubbed his thumb against the braided obsidian ring that she rarely took off, dejectedly sighing out, “You’re married?”

“No.” She tried to keep her face stoic as her teammate perked up at the news. 

“Then do you…” He hesitated in that faux ‘the idea juuuust came to me, honest!’ sort of way only inebriated people could believe was believable, “Do you have a crush on anyone?”

Jason casually laced his fingers over his stomach and lounged in his seat, wishing he had a bucket of popcorn. Mindlessly, he pondered the ethics of calling Alfred so he could hear the clusterfuck alongside him and whether or not that was something the butler would approve, but ultimately decided against it. 

Raven ignored the anti-hero’s amusement that danced over her empathy, sheepishly tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she shrugged Damian’s way. She decided he deserved the truth, especially in this state. The mystic bit the inside of her cheek, hesitating for just a second, “I do, actually.” 

“Oh…” 

Her head tilted at the bursts of sadness and amusement that mixed into her empathy, knowing which of the two Bats she could realistically question on their emotions, “I– Damian?”

He sniffled and brought her palm back up to cup his face. Tenderly gazing up at her, the ex-assassin had that same despondent look that Titus wore whenever they left to go on missions without him. Raven felt her heart tumble end over end; she’d never seen Damian this open before, yet alone to the point of tears. If he noticed their audience’s snickering he didn’t seem to care, especially not with the forlorn, heartbroken way he whined (what in Azar’s name was going on? Should he be on a smaller dose?) out, “I was hoping you didn’t have a crush on anyone.”

At the awfulness that was teenage confessions opened up into the room Jason, shit-stirrer that he was, couldn’t help but pipe up, “But if she didn’t have a crush on anyone she couldn’t have a crush on you.”

Raven let out a quiet, horrified little sound at him pointing out the obvious and at her patient perking up at the idea, not knowing if she could lie to Damian. Confused, bright, hopeful, somewhat glassy olive eyes settled on her and her lips twitched. Scratch that, there was no way she could lie to him; not about this and not when he was in this state. 

So instead, she rationalized that placating him would be enough for now. 

Putting a hand to his forehead, Raven chanced running her fingers through his hair. He let out a lovestruck coo and her words came out a tinge more blunt than she anticipated, “Go back to sleep.”  

Jason let his head fall back, laughing and declaring them “Idiots” to the ceiling. 

Leisurely trailing her hand down to cup his cheek again, the goth ran her thumb over his cheek and traced the shell of his ear. Her shoulders relaxed as Damian’s lethargy sunk into her mind, glad that he wasn’t too bothered with his confessions and still-fractured bones. Damian sunk into her touch, sighing as he started slipping back to sleep. Raven kept rubbing soothing circles under his ear as his breathing evening out and a fond smile curled her lips, her calm exterior hiding just how much she was screaming inside at what Damian had all but admitted. 

Once he was asleep, the mystic let herself enjoy a few more seconds of ease before she realized exactly what she was doing. Catching herself, she pulled her hand away and snapped her head to the other side of the cot, worried about how much of that Jason saw. Raven flushed as the Bat merely raised a brow at her. 

Running a tongue over his teeth, Jason smirked and held up his phone, “Alfie wants to know if you’d like to stay over for the holidays?”

She shifted in her seat. His emotions were saying that Alfred’s request was serious so she nodded, but her eyes narrowed suspiciously when all her answer brought was the man innocently texting his grandfather back. Raven crossed her arms, disbelief slipping into her voice, “No teasing?”

Green eyes shot up to her face. “You’re the girlfriend I hardly know. I’m gonna mock the shit outta him,” Jason jerked a thumb his brother’s way, his grin wide and all-knowing, “But you’re safe. For now.”

The Titan let out a quiet harrumph at that, not quite sure how to respond. She watched as the anti-hero finished sending out his message and stood, cracking his neck as he pulled his leather jacket back on. The dark pine ring of his eyes were muted as he considered her for a moment. Jason’s gaze flicked between the two teens and he aimed an honest-to-Azar smile her way.

It brought some hope that Damian’s actions weren’t just from the morphine, but she was still hesitant. There was mischief on Jason’s face as he drawled out, “D’you know what hiyati means?”

Raven’s lips pursed. She shook her head. Jason smirked and tucked his hands into his jacket’s pockets. He kept glimpsing at his tiny, only-partially-homicidal brother and Raven couldn’t tell how much of this was him being genuine as he advised, “You should look it up sometime.”

Chuckling, Red Hood slipped his helmet back on and started towards the door. He casually tossed over his shoulder, “Later, Birdie. Let Lil’ D know all the Bats’re gonna know about this by the time he’s up.”

Unsure what to say, indigo eyes flicked from Damian’s face to the closing door and back again. As the quiet of Jason’s aura leaving filled the room she leaned back in her chair and tucked her legs up underneath her, alternating between fiddling with her rings and watching Damian as he rested. The braided obsidian on her ring finger kept reminding her of his pout and Raven sat up, taking a few minutes to read and reread the monitors to keep herself occupied. Jason’s words kept chipping at the edges of her brain and the demoness rested against the side of the cot. 

Making up her mind at the steady rise and fall of Damian’s chest, the goth pulled out her phone. Her face fell at the sheer amount of new messages that Dick and Kory (but mainly Kory) were sending her, all built from the gossip Jason must’ve sent out to the adults’ group chat.

Shaking her head and hoping that Damian would be awake when the rest of the team found out about the rumor, she quickly typed ‘hiyati in english’ into the search bar. With all the machines the med-bay’s reception wasn’t the best, but a few long seconds later her eyes widened as the translation popped up. 

Raven glanced at the swordsman again and smiled down at herself.

[stuckinthekookiejar]

Distractions pt 2

Pt. 1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3 || Pt. 4 || Pt. 5 || Pt. 6  || Pt. 7 || Pt. 8 || Pt.9 || Pt. 10 || Pt. 11 || Pt. 12 || Pt. 13 || Pt. 14

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Angst (kinda...I guess?)

Summary: You and Yoongi had a history which nobody knew about. Now that you’ve debuted, you know your paths would cross again.

Word Count: 1689

Yoongi tossed and turned in bed unable to get the image of you out of his head. Seeing you at that music show was the first time he’d seen you in person in almost four years. He couldn’t lie, you looked amazing and watching you perform was on a whole other level. He knew you loved music just as much as he did, but he never imagined you going through trainee years or debuting as an idol. 

“Hyung,” Jimin peeked in from behind the elder’s bedroom door, “Breakfast is ready.” Yoongi let out a grunt and dragged himself out of bed. 

Yoongi wasn’t surprised that it was only Jimin, Jin, and Taehyung sitting at the table. Namjoon was probably locked in his studio writing lyrics, and Jungkook and Hoseok were probably already at the dance studio practicing. 

“Yoongi-ah, can you turn on the TV?” Yoongi scowls,

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the one standing closest to the remote. It just over there.” Jin points over to the remote which sat on a small side table next to Yoongi. He picks it up and turns the television on with a push of a button before taking his seat at the table. The morning news was on, which Yoongi never really paid much attention to. He figured that he could just look up the weather online and be done with it, but upon hearing a certain name his vision darted to the TV.

“Now for our celebrity corner, we have some special guests! They’ve been labeled as one of the hottest trending rookies of the year with their complex choreography, entrancing tracks, and alluring beauty! Please welcome, 2S!” You along with four other girls came into view and greeted the audience,

“1, 2, 3. Shoot for the Stars! Hello, everyone, we’re Shooting Stars!” Yoongi couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. 

The MC asked your group to perform a bit of the dance to your debut track,

“Waah,” Taehyung watched as you perfectly performed on the screen, “They’re so good at dancing.” Jimin nods in agreement with him as he watches the choreography unfold with each passing second. 

Yoongi could feel something burn inside him...was it jealousy? Why would he be jealous of Taehyung complimenting you or of Jimin staring at you? You two were over years ago, so why would he feel anything now? 

“They’re alright...” he mutters before taking in a bite of food. 

You slumped in the seat of the van, ready to go to sleep,

“Yah, Y/N-ah. Tired already?” Sun-hee poked you, “We still got that radio interview to do.”

“Yeah, I know. I just want to get some sleep, that’s all. Wake me up when we get there, Sun-hee.” 

“Hey, where’s the honorifics? I should be chastising you right now you, you know.”

“But unnie loves me too much.” You tease,

“Yeah, yeah. Just go to sleep.” You snuggle up and hug the travel pillow you always brought along with you. You never told anyone, but it was a gift from your ex-boyfriend. In fact, he had the exact same one. It was one of the only things you never threw it away. Some part of you told yourself to keep it, and the other part told you that it was just too comfortable to throw away as an excuse. 

The van stops and Sun-hee wakes you up from your slumber. You filed out of the van, and a small crowd of fans was surrounding the entrance to the radio station. Growing up, you were always scared of attention. You would always cower away from being in the center, and when you were, you would almost faint from the pressure. You did better now, you could handle the attention, but you were still getting used to the flashing lights and the screaming people.  

The MCs were nice and made you guys feel very comfortable. This was your first radio interview, and you were feeling quite nervous since you didn’t know what kind of questions they would ask. The show started and you and your group introduced yourselves. Every question they asked was very normal and were mostly questions regarding their favorite things. You guessed it was to get to know each member more since you guys did just debut. 

“So we’ve got a question lots of fans are interested in knowing...are there any senior groups you guys look up to?” Immediately your members squealed at the question.

“Oh, well there’s this one senior group,” Sun-hee began, “Bangtan Sonyeondan sunbaenim is a huge role model for all of us.”

“Ahh, Bangtan. Yeah, they’ve been recently taking the world by storm! Why Bangtan?” The MC questioned,

Sol-Mi, another one of your members, answered the question, “Well we come from a small company as well, and seeing our sunbaenims achieve the things they have is such an inspiration. Their choreography is also very powerful, and we feel like we could learn a lot from them.” 

Shortly after, the MC asked if anyone could do a small cover to their favorite BTS song, and immediately in unison, as if you guys rehearsed, began to belt out Blood, Sweat, and Tears. You and the girls always enjoyed singing to their songs. Just because Yoongi was your ex, didn’t mean that it stopped you from liking BTS. 

It’s been a few weeks since that interview, and in those few weeks, your group finally finished its promotions. 2S hadn’t gotten a win, but that didn’t discourage you and the girls. You did just debut, so you guys weren’t expecting anything, but you all definitely wanted to aim for a win during your next comeback.

Currently, you and the girls were having a meeting with producers and Baek Ji Bin PD, the CEO of Music Box Entertainment, discussing the music that would be going into 2S’ next mini album. They played demo after demo after demo, but nothing seemed to be of your liking, the group’s liking nor Baek PD’s liking. Baek PD was really nice to you girls, almost like a second father, and he wanted to make sure that you guys achieved your goal of a win in the next comeback with a real banger of a title track,

“Don’t worry girls,” Baek PD assured, “I’m sure we’ll find something to suit the concept soon. Actually, I think I have something that might help, but it’s not confirmed yet. I’ll call for a meeting if I hear anything, okay girls?” 

“Thank you.” You all said as he patted each of your shoulders and walked to away down the hall. 

In the dance studio, the boys were taking a break from practice. They all were either slumped against the wall or on the sprawled floor. 

“Waaah! Jiminie!” Taehyung gasped as he called for Jimin, “Look, 2S mentioned you!” Taehyung took a particular liking to your group, in fact, the whole of BTS enjoyed 2S’ songs. Hoseok and Jungkook even learned some of the choreography to the dance of your song. 

“Really?” Jimin got up and walked over to Taehyung.

The boys knew that you and your group mentioned them a lot as being one of their role models, and they were really flattered. However, you guys never really mentioned a particular member in any of your past interviews. 

Taehyung was looking at a recent interview 2S had with a popular online entertainment news website. The question asked, “What song inspires you the most?” and each of you gave individual answers,

“Yeah, look.” Taehyung scrolled down and pointed to the screen of his phone reading the article out loud, 

“Y/N said, ‘Jimin sunbaenim’s solo Lie was a huge inspiration because I felt like I could relate to the song. I went through some things a few years ago, and I really had a hard time. I could feel the pain he must’ve felt as he was singing about finding his smile and innocence again, and that really hit me. Watching him now and how much he’s grown is truly an inspiration to me, and I really admire him.’”   

It was safe to say that Yoongi’s blood was boiling. Inside, he was mentally beating himself up for feeling anything towards you, but hearing you compliment Jimin...that really pushed his buttons. 

“Did Y/N really say that?” Jimin, wide-eyed with surprise took Taehyung’s phone and read the interview again to himself. He was genuinely happy to see that you enjoyed his song. 

Yoongi scoffs at the younger’s delight, “It’s no big deal, Jimin. One girl group mentions you and now you’re all sparkly eyed?” Awkwardness filled the room, but the footsteps of BTS’ manager breaks it,

“Yoongi, Bang PD wants to see you.” He motions for Yoongi to follow him out, and that’s just what he did. 

“Geez, what’s his problem?” Taehyung mutters, but Jimin could care less. You were his bias in 2S and you had complimented him.

“Girls, Baek PD called for a meeting!” Your manager came to get you at your dorms, “He said he has some exciting news.” 

The car ride to the company was full of anticipation. What had the CEO wanted to tell you guys? Was it good news? It has to be good if it was described as ‘exciting’, right? All your members were wondering the same things too, but all questions would be answered during this sudden meeting. 

Once you arrived, you all filed into the conference room and Baek PD was already there sitting at the table with a huge smile was plastered on his face,

“Girls, I told you before that I had something that might be able to give the 2nd mini album a kick. Well, I happen to be close friends with Bang PD of BigHit, I’m sure you girls know who he is. I was out with him the other day and asked him for some advice. He actually offered to send over a producer to come collaborate on the title track, and I couldn’t refuse! ...Ah, here he is right now.”  

Baek PD stood from his chair and motioned towards the door as someone came in,

“Uh, hello, I’m Min Yoongi of Bangtan Sonyeondan.”

Gif not mine, credit to the owner

[theuselessbard]

Dancing Lights.

(So I was in two D&D campaigns run by the same GM. They were run in the same world but different times. Except from when they started. At that point they were at the same time. Both of these campaigns ended badly and I never got to do that much with these characters, so I decided to write about them. Enjoy)  The Tavern had been dimly lit all evening. Morton sat on his own in the corner, he hadn’t been drinking alcohol, since it would look funny, and he never really liked the taste of most ale. It seemed tasteless to him, so instead Morton sat at his table with a simple flavoured tea in a mug. It was nice, basic, and nowhere near as fine as what he used to drink but it was still nice, and it was still tea. As he finished taking a swig of tea he saw someone get up on stage. His long black hair was scruffily falling down his back. Just another peasant, however, something seemed different. His body language seemed to command your attention, whereas his eyes seemed frightened. He pointed at the band who had originally been playing. “Give me something I can dance to.” He stated simply. The man nodded, despite being many years his senior the man seemed to follow what he said with admiration, as did the others who had been with him. The boy on the stage tapped his foot, to give them a tempo, it was fast paced and seemed odd. But the men followed it. The boy stood still for a few beats, tapping his foot to the rhythm then in one swift movement he began to move to the rhythm, a song escaping his lips as he moved. His body moved fluidly, even as he moved his song was never interrupted. Despite the songs obvious sexual nature, the boy was no older than Morton was, even so, he was acting as if he was years older. Morton couldn’t help but watch in awe. Morton had spent many years while training performing in his spare time, but this was different. His talent was innate like he was born with. As the song came to a close the boy cartwheeled off of the stage and landed flawlessly in the splits. The entire tavern was screaming and cheering. It was like nothing Morton had ever seen. As the boy stood up and got back up on stage he bowed, people were throwing gold and silver at him. “Thank you for your generous pay. A drink for everyone here!” He called out and the tavern uproared in approval. Morton looked towards the door and saw that people outside had stopped, opened the door and had begun to watch. The boy began collecting his money, giving a small amount to the band, then a few gold to the bar. When he looked away his eyes fell on Morton. They locked eyes for a moment, neither looked away, Morton brushed the fringe from his eyes as he looked at the boy. After a while, he realised how odd it must’ve appeared he pulled his hood up and slipped into the corner of the booth. The boy didn’t look away however, he grabbed two drinks and made his way over. Morton immediately grabbed his hammer with his hand under the table. The boy’s performance was that of a professional, what if he was an assassin sent here to kill him for his father, or worse, bring him home. As the boy walked Morton noticed something about his swagger, it reminded him of a group of travelling performers he once saw at a festival as a child. This boy was a gypsy. Morton’s hold on his hammer didn’t loosen. He had been being trained as an assassin, it isn’t all that difficult to fake an entire life story if you’re committed enough. “May I have a seat?” The boy asked. His voice practically made Morton melt into his chair, it was a lot quieter than the one that was just filling the Tavern. But it still sounded the same, elegant and pure. It even seemed that way during the sleazy song. Morton nodded, he couldn’t sense any hostility and he was certain that if there was any he would’ve known. “I hope you liked my performance. I don’t usually sing songs like that, but they always bring in a lot of money if you do it right.” The boy smiled sliding a drink across to Morton. “I don’t drink,” Morton said flatly. “And your performance was very entertaining, however, your song choice is questionable for someone of your ag-” “I think you mean our age.” The boy butted in with a small smirk. “And besides the song didn’t seem to bother you that much. You were just as enthralled as everyone else from what I saw.” Morton was taken back. Not only had the boy been performing but he was able to watch everyone in the crowd as he did so, even back here. Morton had been rather hidden away from the stage, to accurately have read his body language and expression his must’ve been able to focus on him from just the right angle. But it was a performer’s job to make sure the audience was looking at them. This gypsy boy, he must be a performer for a very large troop of gypsies to have these skills already. But where were they, he probably could’ve brought an entire band with him if he wanted and not had to risk a horrible band playing his music. Morton pulled his hood a bit more over his face to hide his expression a bit better. “Maybe I was, that doesn’t change the fact I don’t drink,” Morton said trying to regain his confidence. “I know,” the boy responded quickly. “The bartender told be that you were drinking tea, so I paid for the most expensive one she could make. Vanilla and honey, it was pretty expensive, then again vanilla is expensive. But this is a shipping town so she probably gets it and a decent price and besides.” The boy paused to sip his drink. “It looks like you have fine taste.” Morton was speechless. Not only did he have no idea what to say this guy was completely right about everything he had said so far. He was shockingly good at reading people. Morton finished his cheaper tea and grabbed the other one, he held it to his nose. The smell was very sweet and intoxicating, but still pleasant. He gently sipped it, and it was just like it smelled. Perfectly sweet, not too sweet, it was just right. He never knew that a tavern could create something this perfect. “So it’s fair to say you like it?” The boy asked, Morton silently nodded. “Good, now can you please pull your hood down. I only saw your face briefly and I’d love to get a better picture.” Morton felt his cheeks go warm and his heart beat slightly faster. He wasn’t too sure if he was or not, but, was he blushing. It was very unlike him to do so, if his father could see this he’d go mad. The emotionless assassin he was trying to raise was blushing at the sight of some gypsy performer. Morton gently pulled his hood down and looked up sheepishly at the boy across from him. His eyes were full of excitement and wonder. “Well, it’s rude for someone to stare, and you haven’t introduced yourself either.” Morton huffed. The boy smiled. “My name is Llewellyn Nos.”  “Now it’s your turn to be polite, what may I call you?” At the end of his question, he changed his voice to sound almost identical to Morton’s. But it was followed by a small giggle, which immediately put him at ease. “You may call me by my name Mortimer Kelv,” Morton said simply. It was a lie he had consistently told since he ran away. It had been a childhood name he had used while playing pretend with his sister. He was sure he would be able to convincingly li-. “No, it’s not.” The boy replied with a small chuckle as he shook his head. “But I understand if you don’t want to tell me your real name. In a country, I ran from, during my last few weeks there I was William Soot. Sorry, but you aren’t following me, Morty.” Morton winced at the sound of his sister's nickname for him. “Oh Gods, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to strike a nerve. I’ll stop pressing if you want... If you want I’ll go along with what you said and call you Mortimer. I just got carried away.” The boy looked frantic. Morton felt as if he just stepped on one of his wolf’s tails. “No, you were right, my name is Morton...” Admitting defeat was difficult. But something seemed to keep Morton in the conversation. A desire to continue talking to this boy. The boy’s saddened look turned into a simple smile, almost as if the confidence and adrenaline from his performance finally left him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Morton,” Llewellyn responded simply, his performer persona had begun to fade the longer he was off of the stage, his confidence was slowly diminishing back to what it usually is. Although, it may not go completely back to where it was, as the conversation forced him to stay out of his shell of solitude. The two boys talked back and forth for a while, the simple conversation became a bit more in depth and meaningful. Besides, they both had a lot in common, even if they were avoiding the things that made them similar. Instead, they spoke of literature, stories, lore, and music. “Wait you sing?” Llewellyn asked as he nearly choked on his tea. He looked shocked that someone else his age, in a place like this shared the same hobby as him. “I don’t mean to be rude, but, please, sing something for me.” The look in his eyes was full of anticipation and excitement. Morton thought about saying no but instantly felt guilty looking at Llewellyn’s excited face. He weighed up the option in his mind. He could sing, and risk an entire tavern making a fool of himself. His eyes then met with Llewellyn’s. He’d given that look, the look he gave his sister when she said she had learned a new spell or a new dance. He’d demand to see it and look at her - well like this - until she did so. Morton adjusted how he sat, awkwardly looking around the tavern. This wasn’t ideal for him, not by any means, he’d only ever sung in private before, to himself. He decided on a simple song, one that a few people may know. It was easy to sing however and left him little room for failure. He inhaled deeply then began to sing. His voice was a lot gruffer than Llewellyn’s. Equally as deep, but it wasn’t as smooth. But it didn’t sound bad, just not gentle. Llewellyn watched silently for a moment, as mesmerised as Morton was earlier. Despite not being as polished as Llewellyn had been, Morton still caught the attention of the room, people stopped their conversation to watch him and listen properly. He began drumming in hand on the table to get a beat, it felt uncomfortable, but natural at the same time. Suddenly there was a surge of energy through him. Morton felt all of the eyes in the room on him. He wanted to curl up into a ball and sink into the corner of the booth. His voice began to shake a little. Lewellyn, having noticed this frowned. Morton looked at him and nearly let out a sob at the look on his face. Was he judging him? Llewellyn closed his eyes and cleared his throat. Listening intently to Morton's voice then in an instant began singing with him. His voice found the same note as Morton’s and began to guide it through the song. A smile growing on his face as they sang. Morton relaxed and smiled at the boy across from him. Llewellyn, noticing his joy began to show off. Hitting higher notes and exaggerating what he was singing, like backup vocals. The song seemed to just get louder from there, filling the whole tavern, the drunken people in the Tavern began joining in. The atmosphere of the entire room changed. As the song came to a close the drunk people stopped singing. It slowly got quieter, Llewellyn’s vocals quietened to the same level as Morton’s as the song quietly drew to an end Llewellyn grinned. As the last note died out Morton relaxed, looking at the goofball gypsy across from him. Never before had he thought he’d ever sing in a Tavern in front of a bunch of random people. “I like the way you sing.” Llewellyn managed to say over the Tavern’s cheering. “I’ve only met a few people who sing like you do, sing more often. I want others to enjoy it as much as I do.” Morton felt his cheeks go red as a man placed a bag of gold on the table. “For you two. That was pretty great, if either of ya’ is interested I know of a travelling group of gypsy coming through soon and they’re always looking for performers. You two could slot right in.” Llewellyn laughed. “No way, I’ve been with gypsies the last few weeks, crazy people but they’re nice. Maybe I’ll catch up with them some time.” Morton’s eyes narrowed as Llewellyn spoke. Something didn’t seem right. Llewellyn slipped the gold off of the table then looked at the silent and slightly blushing Morton. “I’m going to head upstairs to my room. Do you want to come with me?” As soon as he said that Morton’s face went bright red. He buried his face into his scarf and looked away, looking rather flustered. Llewellyn began to panic once more and rather impulsively grabbed Morton’s hand. “No, no nothing like that, I swear. I will pay for a room for you if you want. I just want to keep on talking, but I also want to rest so, this seemed like the best idea.” The sad smile on his face made Morton feel uneasy, he couldn’t say no to this boy. So he nodded gently. If this boy had actually been sent after him Morton was well aware he was playing right into his hands. However, something told him that his suspicions were wrong. None of his father’s assassins seemed to be capable of producing this much emotion. Morton allowed himself to be dragged upstairs to the second floor, then dragged down a hallway. Llewellyn swung open a door to a large room. Llewellyn let go of Morton’s hand then collapsed onto a bed. Morton walked forward, glancing around the room. There were simple things around the room. A large window, a separate area to wash, a simple set of drawers, a desk with a mirror sitting on it and a king sized bed. It reminded Morton of his own bedroom at his father’s estate. “Nice, isn’t it?” Llewellyn said jollily. He was now sat cross-legged on the bed. “It was kinda expensive, but I earned four times as much just then. It is definitely one of the nicer places I’ve stayed in.” Morton took a moment to study Llewellyn’s face. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something seemed different now. The smile didn’t seem as bright, not that it was a bad thing. But it seemed softer, more genuine. Less like a performer’s smile and more of a person. Also, while looking at him he noticed the boy’s long, dark hair, two slight points on his ears. “You’re a half-elf,” Morton said simply, completely ignoring Llewellyn’s previous statement. Llewellyn seemed to slump a bit. “Oh, so you noticed. Well, if it bothers you then just leave the way you came. The door is still where you left it.” He looked up at Morton with the same smile but sad eyes. “It isn’t the first time people have shunned me for being a half-elf.” Morton tutted and shook his head. “Let me show you something.” Morton reached for a small strip of blonde coloured fabric wrapped around his head. The fabric kept his hair up and also hid how his ears pointed. He carefully, yet quickly raised one side before placing it back down. For a brief second the points to his ears were visible. They were very slight points, not very sharp or defined. Easily missed if you weren’t looking for it. He placed the fabric back down. “I have a lot of issues with myself. There are a lot of things I dislike about myself. But this is the one thing I am comfortable with.” Llewellyn patted the bed next to him. “Well, then why are you still standing? There’s a perfectly good bed sitting right here.” Morton smiled and placed his hammer and bag near the edge of the bed then climbed onto the bed. “So, L-Llew-Llewellyn.” Even after years of diction lessons, Morton was stumbling over the name. He couldn’t make it sound the exact same way Llewellyn had managed to. “Tell me a little bit more about yourself. Other than you hobby of singing seductive songs at bars for money.” Llewellyn let out a mock gasp. “The rich boy can joke, my word we must inform the townsfolk immediately!” Both them began laughing. They spent most of the night like this, joking, laughing, a bit of singing while having more of the ridiculously expensive tea delivered to their room. For these two it was a night of bliss. Two boys who hadn’t had the easiest life before this. They quickly lost track of time, eventually, they found themselves dancing on the bed. As they danced Morton had the bright idea casting dancing lights within the dimly lit room. Orbs of sky blue lights dances around the room, spiralling and crossing over in different patterns and shapes. Then as it always does the unexpected happened. 

Llewellyn stepped forwards, grabbing Morton’s hand while giggling. “C’mon my lord allow me this dance.” Morton felt a warm rush in his cheeks but nodded placed his free hand on Llewellyn’s shoulder. Then his eyes widened as he realised his just relinquished control to Llewellyn. “So you do know how to formally dance Lord Morton.” He said with a grin, placing his hand carefully on Morton’s hip. They began to dance one more. It was slow, graceful and above all calm. Llewellyn was singing some song in Celestial, a language Morton knew rather well. He had never heard someone sing in it, however. It was beautiful. The lights continued to dance throughout the room, illuminating certain sections, but most importantly to Morton, making Llewellyn’s icy blue eyes seem to shimmer like the blue of an ocean. Like an endless expanse of blue captured beautifully in the light. Neither of the two quite expected what came next, but it felt right. The song in the room slowly fell quiet. Llewellyn leant down slightly and pulled Morton closer. Morton merely leant into it. The kiss they shared was short. It was gentle, their lips hardly touched. But it made Morton giddy, as they pulled away Llewellyn’s smile gently curled up into a grin. “I didn’t think that I’d be doing that tonight.” Morton smiled softly. “Let’s just keep dancing for now.” He said quietly. The two boys went back to dancing, slow, quiet, with Llewellyn quietly singing and Morton watching in awe of the boy with hair far darker than the night sky. The orbs of light gliding through the air, slowly growing dimmer and dimmer as the scene faded off into the night. 

[emma-what-son]

Houseofgeekery Batb review

This one is fairly positive, but I’m including it because they’re mentioning Le fou and about him being gay. *Spoilers*

From houseofgeekery March 2017: Director: Bill Condon

Cast: Emma Watson, Dan Stevens, Luke Evans, Kevin Kline, Josh Gad, Ewan McGregor, Stanley Tucci, Sir Ian McKellen, Emma Thompson

Plot: A selfish, decadent prince is cursed by a sorceress to remain a terrifying beast until someone could love him for who he is. Dissatisfied farm girl Belle finds herself trapped in his castle and they both learn to see past their first impressions.

Review: Well, here we go again. Disney have made a real hobby out of refilming their animated classics of late with variable results. Alice in Wonderland was unwatchable, Cinderella was playing it safe and left me cold and The Jungle Book was a fun distraction. In spite of myself I found myself quite looking forward to Beauty and the Beast because of the impressive cast, interesting production design and, of course, Gaston.

Any live action adaptation of a previously animated work is going to be hampered by its inability to replicate the energy and physicality of the original. Director Condon has been able to compensate for this with a constantly moving camera and a bright, rich colour scheme. He’s also brought in a dedicated, passionate cast who seem determined to give it their all.

The most discussed casting is Hermio…Emma Watson as Belle. The concern is her heavy association with another well known bookish character who the audience may have trouble ignoring. This turned out to be no problem whatsoever, as she is Belle from the moment she walks on screen in the signature blue dress. What makes it easier to accept her as Belle is how much Watson’s singing voice sounds like Paige O’Hara’s in the original. It’s similar to the point that one wonders how much they tweaked it to match them up. Sharing the title card is Dan Stevens, taking time out from blowing our mind in Legion to act through a mask of effects work. This could well be Stevens year because he’s giving us two very different yet equally impressive performances.

Filling out the cast are the voices of Ewan McGregor as Lumière, Sir Ian McKellen as Cogsworth, Stanley Tucci as a harpsichord and Emma Thompson as Mrs. Potts. Luke Evans is clearly enjoying himself playing the ego-driven bully Gaston with Josh Gad is his sidekick Le Fou. They both capture the characters perfectly and have some of the most entertaining moments in the film.

Although on the surface everything appears to be identical to the original there have been a number of tweaks and adjustments to the characters. Belle is less polite in rejecting Gaston’s advances early in the film and is an inventor like her father. She does, at one point, invent the washing machine (to the horror of the villagers). Both Belle and the Beast get more fleshed out backstories leading to less of a Stockholmy feel to their relationship as they bond over a shared love of reading, feelings of being an outcast and both having been heavily affected by the loss of their respective mothers. Gaston is more vicious this time around, outwardly sneering at his admirers and attempting to murder Maurice when he tells her he’ll never marry Belle. Some of the new sub-plots, such as Mrs. Potts having an amnesiac husband in the village, are pointless additions.

The enchanted castle of it’s denizens must’ve been a production designers dream come true. The art team have gone about and beyond in filling the entire film with details and imaginative versions of familiar characters. The way the curse works is changed so that the housekeepers slowly change more into inanimate objects as time passes and we see them discussing how much they’ve changed over the course of the film. It’s all a treat to look at…except for the slightly horrifying looking Mrs. Potts and Chip. I think it’s the porcelain texture but something is off about them.

All of the original musical numbers have been recreated by the new cast and they’re all solid performances. There’s a couple of new musical numbers that certainly emulate the original style and fit in nicely. Originally Disney only wanted short half song versions to move away from the musical format, but Condon wisely insisted on the full versions. I can’t imagine many people who’d be satisfied with short versions of the well known and expected musical numbers.

If there’s one sequence in the film that falls completely on it’s face it’s when Maurice (Kline) first discovers the castle. His performance is quite flat compared to the rest of the cast and he wanders about a stunning and seemingly haunted castle with barely a raised eyebrow. When he does lose his nerve and flee he inexplicably says “Oh wait…Belle wanted a rose” and stops to pick some flowers. This is mere moments after he was terrified into running out of the castle and back into a forest full of hungry wolves. It was like realism was suddenly ejected from the cinema and a very clumsy way of setting up the next sequence of events.

Beauty and the Beast manages to capture the magic of the original, one of only three animated movies to be nominated for the Best Picture Oscar. It’s certainly a jewel in Disney’s crown and this new version doesn’t feel like a pale imitation. Out of all the live action Disney remakes we’ve seen the past decade this is the one I’d be interested in rewatching as much as the original.

Rating: EIGHT out of TEN

Oh…wait. Le Fou is gay. I don’t want to be the only reviewing this on the internet to not mention this, do I? No doubt this is going to generate some discussion and huffy tantrums. It’s great that Disney have taken this step, as the company has had a good relationship with the homosexual community as seen in their unofficial annual Disneyland ‘Gay Day’. Honestly it’s a throwaway, blink and you’ll miss it event. Le Fou doesn’t act much different towards Gaston as he did in the animated version and at the end he’s briefly seen dancing with a guy who is outed as a transvestite during the final battle. That’s all.

[figureditoutkindalikeit-blog]

PART ONE - “Sometimes you are going to miss a person who was an almost to you. And feel sad because there is no name for that feeling. You just feel it in a way that makes you tired to your very bones”

The concert was very loud, but she was having a good time. She almost forgot that Nicole stood her up to go on a date, after making a huge case about how this was the concert of a lifetime and that she should get tickets with Jorge, the security guard at the venue she worked out with. She was really anxious at first, not being a fan of concerts in general, but it helped that Jorge was right in front of her, on the other side of the fence she was leaning against, and she could talk to him to distract herself from the screaming crowd behind her. It made it easier, as well, that the tiny blonde girl next to her was so entertaining. She had a lot of energy for someone so small, sure as hell screamed louder than anyone at the venue. She kept complementing Lori all night about her jacket. It was a pink satin bomber jacket. With black stripped cuffs and collar and a few embroidered details along the sleeves.

When Only Angel started, Lori couldn’t help but rock it out. She just “felt it out” with the song, singing to Jorge and dancing with Aimee, the short girl. At the end of it, Lori closed her eyes and danced to herself, it was her favorite part of the song. Suddenly everyone got very loud around her, she felt a tug on her arm that made her open her eyes and look at Aimee. She was very excited about something pointing to the stage. Lori looks up and sees Harry right in front of them, singing. She could feel her cheeks burn, but didn’t keep her from singing right back to him, since it was too dark for anyone to notice her anyway. Harry smiles and prances off to the other side of the stage and Aimee hugs Lori.

-          HE’S SO FLUFFY!!!! – screams Aimee

Lori laughs. Aimee definitely reminded her of Agnes from Despicable Me, but with blonde curly hair.

Once the song is over, Lori ducks down to pick up the water bottles Jorge brought her to take a sip. She looks up at the stage, where Harry was now chatting with some fans, still crouching down, taking a sip of water. He looks over and squints at them.

-          Are you ok? – he said, trying to see them in the dark.

Lori, not realizing he was talking to her, just keeps staring, enjoying her water.

-          No? Yes? You…on the floor….you need something? – he says pointing at Lori and Aimee’s direction.

-          I think he’s talking to ya…  - says Aimee poking Lori on the shoulder.

-          Me? – she says pointing at herself.

Harry walks over to where they were.

-          Are you alright, love?

Lori jumps up, hitting her hand on the bar at the fence, making her water splash all over everyone around her.

Harry just stares at her, unfazed.

-          Are you ok? – he asks.

-          Yes! Sorry. Yes!

She gives him a thumbs up, since it was obvious he couldn’t hear her.

-          That’s my job, ya know? With the water…don’t do it again.

Everyone laughs around her, while she stays silent, not quite understanding why. Harry starts to go back to the center of the stage and stops, turning around to face them again.

-          I splash you, yea? Just…ya know…if you steal my bit then….ehm…well my ego gets hurt and then I need to get louder to make up for it. – he says, gesturing with his hand.

-          Maybe you should get louder then.

-          Eh?!

-          MAYBE YOU SHOULD GET LOUDER! – she screams.

-          Get louder? – he says through a smirk.

Everyone at the venue screams.

-          Shouldn’t be a problem, since your fly is open.

-          What? – He says getting closer.

-          Your fly is open.

Harry frowns, takes another step closer and removes his ear monitor.

-          YOUR. FLY. IS. OPEN. GELLER! – she says, trying her best to mimic with her hands the information.

He looks down and turns around to zip up his pants. He raises both hands to his face and rubs his left eye.

-          Sorry if anyone got an eyeful…Gee! I was talking right to ya, why didn’t ya let me know? – He says to another fan center front.

Lori smiles looking at the fans talking to him.

-          Can’t believe he talked to us – Says Aimee, grabbing Lori’s arm.

-          I would’ve rather not making a fool of myself…

-          You didn’t!!!

Lori smiles, rubbing her right hand. Now that the rush of having to talk Harry passed, she realized it actually hurt a lot.

-          That’s a wonderful jacket by the way. – he says, trying to put the microphone on the stand.

She looks up at Harry pointing at her.

-          Oh, YES! I TOLD HER THAT – Says Aimee jumping up and down.

-          Great color. Where did you get that?

-          Ehm… - says Lori looking at her own jacket.

-          Can I have it? For a sec? – he says going in their direction again.

Lori looks around, trying to understand what was going on.

-          You want my jacket? – she says, pointing at her own jacket.

-          Yea – he says smiling cheek to cheek.

She looks at him for a second and ponders that Aimee would probably kill her if she denied Harry anything. So she takes the jacket off and hands it over to Jorge, who passes over to Harry. He takes and places in front of him with an impressed expression. He then walks over to the drums, puts the microphone between his legs, takes his suit off and puts the bomber jacket. Then takes the microphone on his hand, turns around with a giddy smile on his face and prances off, showing off the new acquisition.

-          I feel pretty! – He says to Mitch, that gives him a thumbs up.

He looks over at Adam and Sarah, both seemed pleased as well.

-          Oh, so pretty…

Harry says, to the melody of “I Feel Pretty”, from the West Side Story, which makes the entire audience cheer. He twirls around a bit while humming to the music. Then he finally stops, laughing, and walks back to Lori and Aimee, starting to remove the jacket. Lori raises her hand, stopping him from doing so.

-          Keep it.

-          What? – He says halfway through taking the jacket off.

-          KEEP IT. YOU LOOK BETTER WITH IT ANYWAY… - she screams so he can hear her.

Harry gives her a big smile and turns around, looking rather happy with himself.

-          A-ok! Thank you, m’am!

Lori smiles giving him a thumbs up. She thinks that Harry must’ve really liked the jacket, considering he didn’t fight her that much on the decision of giving him her only coat. A decision she regretted immediately, considering it was a February night in London.

-          HARRY STYLES HAS YOUR JACKET!!!! – Says Aimee all of the sudden, snapping Lori out of it and scaring the shit out of her. – Oh, sorry!

After a couple ballads, Kiwi stars. Lori was shaking her hair to the song when she sees Harry picking up a water bottle and walking up to them. He leans as close as he can, at the edge of the stage, and dumps the entire content of it on Lori, splashing Aimee and the girls around her a bit. She stays put, thinking how the hell the water in a plastic bottle under stage spotlights could be so cold.

-          Why are you so happy? – She says at Aimee, clearly enjoying the water.

-          Everyone wants to be splashed by Harry.

-          Wh…oh ok that sounded a bit off….but why? I mean I know why…but It’s freaking cold!

Aimee laughs at Lori. It was rather impressive how much of the bottle Harry actually managed to drop on her head, considering he was a bit far away. She let her hair loose and starts to run her hand through it, feeling the water running down from her scalp, into her shirt.

After the song is over, Harry thanks everyone and says goodnight. Before leaving the stage he comes over, and throws a towel to Lori, waving to her and thanking her again for the jacket.

-          Oh, he’s really keeping your jacket – Says Aimee smiling at him leaving.

-          Yep. Sounds like it.

-          Regretting that decision, mami? – Says Jorge smiling at Lori.

She was using the towel to cover her shoulders, since now that everyone started to leave the venue was getting colder. Jorge lends her his jumper and both girls wait around for a bit, before going outside with Aimee, to wait for her ride with her. Lori explains to Aimee that she liked Harry’s music, but didn’t know that much about him. Aimee promises to fill her in on the marvelous encyclopedia of Harry Styles, making Lori laugh.

After almost an hour, Aimee’s ride shows up. They say their goodbyes with the promise to meet up at the end of the week. It doesn’t take long before Jorge drives up to Lori, on his Harley.

-          Oh, great…

-          Ready to freeze a little more, mamacita?

-          Te odio, Jorge!

-          Te quiero también, mama!

She jumps in the back and hugs Jorge, that drives off.

A couple of weeks later, Lori is sitting by the bar at a cocktail party she was forced to go for work. Being a culture photographer for BBC was her dream job, but these BBC parties she really did not like. Or any parties. She was a home bug for sure.

-          Heeeey doll!

She’s jumps, taken by surprise by the familiar voice.

-          Shit!

-          Gee, what a greeting…

He rests his hand on the counter, the other holding a martini glass with a pink drink in it. She looks at him and his sparkly black ensemble, shirt unbuttoned down to his bellybutton almost, revealing his chest.

-          Uh, you got it going on today, eh?

-          Like it? – He says giving a twirl.

-          Yes! Maybe button up just one button?

He looks down at his stomach.

-          What? And keep everyone else the joy of checking my abs out?

Lori laugs.

-          It’s good to see ya Grim. How you’ve been?

-          Good. Fancy seeing you in one of these gatherings. – he says, closing one of his shirt buttons.

-          I know. James bugged me about coming this time…

-          Well you look fucking hot! – he says, making her do a twirl.

-          Heeey, cheers to that. – She says lifting her champagne glass to Nick.

-          Amen! You should prance around the room. With a dress like that, everyone will be eyeing ya. – he says looking at her dress.

The satin dark teal dress really hugged her curves quite nicely and she had made the bold decision to wear it with bright yellow heels.

-          Precisely why I’m staying put – she says, taking a sip of her champagne.

-          Shouldn’t have put that on then. Cause sister, everyone’s eyeing you anyway.

Nick says twirling around and leaving her.

-          I will take you out dancing after this shitshow is done, though.

-          No you won’t!

-          Ha ha! Just wait…

Nick walks off, before he bumps into someone else he knows and makes a fuss about it. Lori smiles watching him. He was a great friend to her since she moved there. BBC was scary for a newcomer and, even though he didn’t work on her department, they met on occasion and he really took her in as a pupil.

She looks around at all the people enjoying the party. It was a rather formal gathering, with a lot of top ladder executives from the network, along with a bunch of hosts and presenters. Truth be told she was way too intimidated to be in a room with all these people, so enjoying it was a rather difficult task, even with all the champagne she kept sipping. She decides to get up and walk around the room, at least make an effort to be seen. After nodding to a few people she knew and shaking hands with a couple she knew she needed to introduce herself to, she felt exhausted. Social interaction took so much out of her that it almost made her feel like she ran a marathon. So she doesn’t even think twice before leaning against the bright magenta sofa, near a window. She goes to take yet another sip from the glass, but realizes it’s empty and the bar was all the way around the other side of the room. She takes a deep breath feeling defeated. She feels a awkward poke on her shoulder and a very quiet “excuse me, miss…”. She turns around and freezes at the sight of the familiar face. Harry was looking at her dead in the eye. However, he looked a lot different from the night of the concert. Not only he clearly had a haircut and a shave, but his expression looked almost like it belonged to a completely different person. It was looking at a lost dog in the rain, big puppy eyes, crouching a bit. She was certain he didn’t recognize her.

-          Yes? – She says with a shaky voice.

-          Ehm…hi. I’m Harry.

-          Ye….yeah, hi. Lori… - she says lifting her hand to shake his.

Harry, however, just looks at her hand with an awkward smile and lifts his eyes back to hers.

-          I’d love to shake ya hand, but unfortunately it’s in ya bum.

She stares at him for a second, trying to understand what that meant. Was that a line? Is he THAT blunt, barely says hi and comes right in with a hit? Or did he want to touch her bum?! Well that would be a little bit rude, to be quite honest. A lot, actually.

-          Eeeehm….did I lose ya? Maybe that wasn’t clear…. – he says, snapping her out of it.

-          I’m sorry, I don’t… - she says, interrupting him.

-          Y’re sitting on my hand, love.

She looks at the back of the sofa she was sitting, and realizes that, in fact, his hand was right below it.

-          OH MY… - she says jumping up.

Harry smiles.

-          Sorry. I wasn’t sure how to take it off without making it look like I was…erm…

-          Poking my ass? – he smiles – Yeah…no…I’m sorry. I didn’t see your hand….

-          It’s ok. Who in their right minds puts a hand on the back of a sofa, yea?

Lori blushes a bit by the obvious irony of that statement. After all it was sitting on it that made little sense, opposed to leaning against it like Harry was.

-          Now I can shake ya hand. – he says giving her his hand to shake.

She takes his hand. It was very soft, despite the almost too many rings for fingers in it. And oddly moist. Was he nervous about something?, she thought.

-          Sorry again, Mr. Styles.

-          No problem. I’m pretty sure I introduced myself as Harry, tho…

-          Ah, well…I’m a rookie, still need to pretend like a respect big names in the industry, yeah?

Harry raises his eyebrows.

-          Pretend…

-          No, that’s… - she says, realizing the bad joke – ok…can we start over? Put your hand there so I can sit on it.

Harry laughs and takes a sip of his drink.

-          I like your dress, Lori!

-          Thanks Harry. I like your… - she stops to analyze what he was wearing - …trouSHOES!

Harry tilts his head, smiling.

-          Troushoes?

-          Shoes. I meant your shoes. They’re awesome!

Harry looks at his black and gold boots.

-          Thanks.

-          I was going for trousers, but they’re actually quite plain…the shoes however…

-          Plain??? – he says in shock.

-          Yeah, like…I mean…they’re just pleated pants, yeah?

-          They’re just… - he says with a fading away high pitch voice – I’m so offended! – says putting his hand over his eyes.

-          They’re nice, but with shoes like that you’d expect something else up top, ya know.

-          Says the girl in sunny yellow heels.

-          Hey! I’m bringing it up top! – she says gesturing at her dress

Harry smiles. Lori gives him a smile back and he frowns before some guy calls Lori. She looks over.

-          Oh, that’s my boss. It was nice offending your trousers, Harry.

Harry nods, smiling, a hint of a frown still on his face. She walks off to talk to her boss.

A little later that night, she was getting her clutch to leave when she’s startled by Harry.

-          I robbed ya didn’t I?

-          GAH! Jesus!!! What’s up with people up in this city with the sneaking up on ya… - she says catching her breath.

-          Sorry! – he says putting his hand on her shoulder.

-          It’s ok. Hi again.

-          Hi. I stole from ya, didn’t I?

Lori blinks a few times before looking at her own clutch.

-          Your jacket. – he says.

She looks up at him again.

-          What? – she says genuinely confused.

-          I thought I knew ya from somewhere.

-          Oh…OH….yeah! – she says realizing what he’s talking about

-          You were on my show.

-          I was, yes.

-          Why didn’t you say so? I kept trying to figure it out why you looked so familiar…

-          Is that common for ya? People coming over and hurling “I went to your show!!!!!”

-          More often than you’d think – he says after thinking a bit.

-          How lovely…

-          I tried fetching ya at the end of the show…

-          Fetching me?

-          Yeah, to go backstage. But they couldn’t find ya…

-          Yeah I went outside with the girl next to me to wait for her ride with her.

-          I felt bad about your jacket…

-          Ah, it’s ok. It suited you better.

Harry smiles.

-          You don’t want it back? It’s a nice jacket…

-          No, it’s fine…plus, it was thrift store, so….cost me like 20 quid. – she says.

-          What a deal…

-          Yeah, I love thrift stores.

-          I can keep it then?

-          Yeah, consider a gift.

-          Well…I’ll buy you coffee to make it up. Were you leaving? When I came over… - he says pointing at her clutch.

-          Ah…yeah

He takes a sip of his drink, looking at her over the glass.

-          I’m starving, really…the food they’re serving is so small that I think it disintegrates before reaching my stomach.

Harry laughs.

-          Can I join ya?

She looks at him, surprised.

-          What?

-          Yeah, I’ve already fulfilled my duties to some friends coming here. And I agree with the food comment…also, I have to make it up for the jacket. So let me buy ya dinner.

-          O…ok?! – She says stuttering a bit

-          D’you have a place in mind?

-          Yeah, I was going to a pizza restaurant I always want to go, but it’s too far away from my place…

-          Ok, sounds good. – he says putting his glass down and fixing his suit.

He just stays there, staring at her, hands on his pockets.

-          Ok  - she says smiling, realizing that, yes, she was having dinner with him.

They leave the party and get in the backseat of a black car, not before Lori has a little meltdown by crossing paths with David Attenborough at the exit. The restaurant was an Italian pizzeria, very small, intimate, with dimmed lights and a wonderful smell of bread and olive oil in the air. The cherry wood tables didn’t have covers on them, just red and beige linen placemats, with white plates and wine glasses. In the very corner, there was a pool table. There was barely anyone there, since it was a cold Wednesday at 10h30 pm. Harry looks around the place and seemed pleased by it. So they pick a table near the pool table, Harry takes his black overcoat and suit off and hangs them in the back of the chair and sits down.

Out of that formal environment of the party, without the fancy suit and with his hair a bit messed up, since he ran his hand on it like 50 times, it was rather comfortable talking to him. Lori was surprised by how approachable he was, without all the “Harry Syles, rockstar” hanging all over him. She really enjoyed talking with him. Or TO him, since she did most of the talking while he was very attentive to everything she was saying.

-          Do you play? – he asked, getting up and taking a sip of his white wine.

-          What? Pool?

-          Yeah

-          No? I mean….I played before, but not, like… - she says getting up.

Harry walks over and takes the cues and the chalk.

-          I just…hit the balls around, ya know? – she said taking one of the cues from Harry.

-          Wanna learn? – he says chalking the cue.

-          Yep. Sure. – She ponders for a second – What happens if I win?

Harry raises his eyes to her.

-          Oh, you wanna bet something?

-          Sure, I mean…what’s the point of playing otherwise.

-          I like the way you think, miss. – He says with a smirk. – Hum...how about…

-          Your boots!

He looks at her, surprised.

-          My boots? – he says looking down at them.

-          If I win.

-          It’ll fit ya?

-          Probably not…but they’re so pretty.

Harry laughs, sitting on the pool table.

-          Ok, if you win, I’ll give ya my boots.

Lori raises her eyebrows, surprised he agreed.

-          But if win I get to take ya home.

The older man sitting with a friend in a table near by just looks at them, interested.

-          Take me home? Ok. I mean, that’s a bad bet, you’d probably take me home anyway.

Harry bites his upper lip, surprised.

-          Don’t cheat on teaching me wrong, tho…

-          See that ball over that? The eight. – he says leaning near Lori – You have to pocket that one as soon as possible to win.

-          That’s a lie – says the older man raising his hand.

-          Sheesh sir! – says Harry, laughing.

-          Thanks! That much I know tho…I’ll lose if I pocket that one. – says Lori crossing her arms, judging Harry.

-          I can only try, yeah?

-          I thought better of ya, Harry!

He smiles.

They start playing while Harry goes on about the rules and tricks of the game. Harry starts winning, but Lori begins getting a hang of it, turning the game around. The two older men and the waiters of the restaurant end up gathering around the pool table, since Lori was killing it, making Harry very competitive. Lori ups the bet to if she wins, Harry would have to pay a round of limoncello to everyone there, making everyone root for her. When it’s down to Lori’s final ball, Harry crouches down at the side of the table, just peeping over it. She ends up winning, which makes Harry blur out a bunch of fucks. He buys the liquor to everyone, they cheer “salute” and drink up. Harry invites Lori to go for a walk, since the restaurant was closing. So they say goodbye to the older men – that they found out to be the owners – and the waiters and leave. They start walking down the street.

They walk for hours, talking, as the streets begin to empty and the night begins to bite the tips of their extremities making Harry take his overcoat off and give it to Lori.

-          What time is it? – She says, realizing how empty the streets were.

Harry turns his wrist to check his watch.

-          2:25 am.

-          Oh…maybe we should call it a night…

-          Yeah, I’ll call the car. – He says going through his phone.

-          You’re blue. – She says looking at Harry, that was leaning against a park fence.

-          What?

-          Your lips are blue – She says taking off his overcoat.

-          What? No, no. You can... – says Harry between chattering teeth.

-          No. You’re clearly freezing, just take it, I don’t need it. – She says handing him his overcoat.

-          You’re fucking crazy if you think I’ll let you freeze out here…

She huffs and throws the overcoat over his shoulders.

-          What the hell, woman!

Before he can take it off, she uses both hands to shut the coat over him.

-          You can’t be cold. I can. – She says holding the collar around his neck.

-          What? Why???

-          Because if you get sick, you’ll get a sore throat. If you get a sore throat, you can’t sing. If you can’t sing, someone, out there, will KILL ME!

He looks at her for a second and puts the coat on.

-          Good! – She says wrapping her own arms around her and looking around. She looks back at him and he’s standing there with arms open. – Wh…what are you doing?

He grabs her wrist and pull her in, wrapping his overcoat around her as well.

-          What are you doing? – She says leaning her head back, to avoid bumping their faces together.

-          Keeping ya warm. Until the car arrives.

-          Wow…smooth, Mr. Styles.

He laughs.

-          I promise ya it’s not a move.

She looks at him, his face less than 3 inches away from her. His arms around her, holding the coat shut as much as he could. She opens her mouth to speak and sees a tiny speck of white falling behind him.

-          Oh, you got to be kidding me.. – She says looking at the sky. Harry looks up as well.

The little snowflakes were slowly filling up the air above them, dancing their way down, until it reaches their faces, shoulders and everything around them.

-          Well…it was weird not snowing in February anyway. – Says Harry looking at the snowflakes resting on his shoulder.

Lori takes a deep breath, uncrosses her arms and wraps them around Harry, under his coat, hugging him tight so he could close the coat completely. She rests her head on his shoulder, mumbling incomprehensive words. Harry gives a short low chuckle.

-          Where’s the car?

-          I can’t reach him. I’ll just get an uber or something.

-          Oh, Harry Styles’ driver went a-wall?? Someone’s getting fired tomorrow.

Harry smiles, going through his phone with one hand, while the other firmly held the coat shut.

-          Your hair smells nice. – He says without taking his eyes of the phone.

-          Thanks…you smell….

Harry looks at her with the corner of his eye, waiting for the answer.

-          …vanilla...ish…. – Harry smiles – and…lime? Is that lime?

-          Heh…I don’t know. Maybe? Vanilla makes sense, my cologne is vanilla. Lime….must be me.

Lori chuckles.

-          How fancy of you. “You know Harry Styles? Yes! What does he smell like? Zesty” – she says, getting a timid chuckle out of him.

-          Your hair smells like coconut. Is that your perfume or shampoo or is it you?

-          Well, Mr. Styles, I’m going to lie and say it’s me.

Harry laughs.

-          Where do you live?

-          What?

-          I asked for an uber, but I put my address in. I need yours to add before my stop. Or maybe if it’s around me we can just… - He gets interrupted by Lori’s chuckle. – What?

-          Trust me. I live no-where near you.

-          Wh…how would you know that?

-          You’re Harry Styles. I can’t afford wherever you live…

-          Ok, first of all let’s settle something straight…stop calling me Harry Styles.

Lori unwraps her arms from him and takes a step back, looking shocked.

-          You’re NOT Harry Styles??? What the fuck? Who have I been talking to all night? You imposter! – She says in an outraged tone of voice, raising it at the end of the last word.

Harry smiles, rubbing his nose.

-          Why? It’s weird? – She says smiling and going back in to hug him.

-          It’s not weird, just…

-          Puts a persona on ya?

-          Yeah. I don’t like when friends call me Harry Styles…

-          What’s your middle name?

-          Edward.

-          I’ll call ya Harry Edward, then.

Harry chuckles.

-          Hey!!! – She says smiling and looking up at Harry – I’m your friend?

-          Oh, yeah. That’s right…you CAN call me Harry Styles.

-          Ah, fuck you.

Harry laughs as the Uber drives up to them.  They break from the hug and get into the car. It was pleasantly warm inside the car and, as they sit, the driver offers them blankies before it drives off. Halfway through the ride, Harry remembers they’re not going to the same place, but finds out that, as Lori pointed out before, they do live in completely opposite parts of the city. So Harry proposes that they go to his house, get a cup of hot tea to warm up, and then he’ll drive her home. She objects at first, but he convinces her that it would be a lot easier than turning around to drop her off and coming all the way back to drop him. And he was very firm about not dropping him first, because it was late and she shouldn’t take the whole ride back alone.

His house, as expected by Lori, was big and luxurious. Not too much, to the point of excess, but enough to notice whoever lived there had money. And good taste in styling. The décor was gorgeous. A mix between contemporary and old classics, and everything was spotless. Lori felt almost uncomfortable on how clean everything was. Everything that was white, like the fluffy rug at the living room, the pillows, the kitchen marble counters, was SO white that it almost sparkled. The throw blanket on the couch was neatly folded. Lori felt that just breathing in there would dirt the place up.

-          It’s….very……clean.

Harry turns around, putting his overcoat on a chair.

-          Do you ever have people over? Did you ever? Do you actually live here?

Harry laughs.

-          It’s…sooo clean! I’m pretty sure my aura is messing up the place.

-          You want tea? – says Harry putting the kettle on.

-          Yes please…I mean, no? Isn’t that going to stink up the place?

-          Ok. I’m clean. I like things organized and clean…we established that. Can we move on or you need more time to circle around it?

Lori smiles.

-          Sorry, I’ll stop – she says smiling – But it’s not a criticism. Your house is amazing. You should be organized and clean to own a place like this…otherwise is pointless. I mean…I’m a Virgo, so I can appreciate all of this.

-          As a Virgo?

-          Yeah, big perfectionist here! – She says raising her hand.

-          Uhhh…OCD’s?

-          Oh, major!

-          Like flipping the light switch multiple times?

-          No, not that much. But like…organizing everything neatly on a table, ya know? Everyone made fun of me when I was in school, ‘coz I would lose a good amount of time putting everything on my desk. Notebook, pencils, pens, ruler, rubbers…everything like…perpendicular to each other.

Harry chuckles.

-          And like…I would change the order of things like three times, because it had to “feel” neat, ya know?

-          You’re worst than me. – Says Harry laughing, leaning in one hand on the counter, the other one resting on his hip.

-          I blame astrology.

-          I don’t. I’m an Aquarius. They’re usually messy, yea? – He says taking the kettle from the burner.

-          Yeah…I guess…

-          Well…you take milk on your tea?

-          Do you?

-          No.

-          Then it’s fine, no milk…Do you like Haribos?

He stops with the kettle on his hand and stares at her for a split second.

-          In…..tea?

-          No – She says chuckling – Just…Haribos… - She says taking a baggy from her clutch and giving it to him.

He puts the kettle on the counter and takes the baggy, opening it and checking inside.

-          You walk around with candy on your purse?

-          Yeah? I mean…you need snacks during the day in general. When it involves office parties, I tend to bring guilty pleasures instead of the usual healthy ones. Last time I had Cadbury Fingers.

-          Well I know who I’ll be calling to join me at my next events. – He says pouring the hot water in the mugs. – You like English Breakfast? I didn’t even ask before…

-          No, no. English Breakfast is fine. – She says, interrupting him.

They take their tea cups and sit on the couch at the living room.  They talk about music, movies, their pet peeves, what their lives were like, especially for her that had just moved to London. They had a lot in common, which made talking with Harry very easy. They liked the same bands, almost the same movies. All that while sipping tea and eating Lori’s Haribos. Before they notice, the birds are chirping and the sky’s night darkness begins to fade into sunrise.

-          Lori? – Harry says in a low deep voice. – Love?

It takes a second for her to realize her eyes are close. She jumps up to find Harry in front of her, with his head resting on his fist, smiling.

-          Sorry, I didn’t realize… - she says rubbing her eyes.

-          It’s ok. It was only for a sec. You want to take a nap?

-          What?

-          Stay here, sleep for a couple of hours and I’ll drive you home when we wake up.

She stares at Harry, processing the information for a bit.

-          Guest room. – He says, smiling, realizing her concern.

-          Ah…well…no, it’s ok. I can get the tube…

-          No, absolutely not. I promised to drive ya home. I’m a man of my word. You want me to drive ya now?

Lori could see how tired Harry was on his face. She was pretty sure he was resting his head on his hand because otherwise it would just fall to the couch.

-          No, you look too tired to drive…plus there’s probably snow everywhere out there…

-          Let’s do that then. Just so we can restore a bit of energy…it’s ok, I really don’t mind you staying here.

It was a tempting offer, Lori thought. She rubs her eye, thinking about it for a second. She finally agrees and Harry guides her to his guest room. It wasn’t a “guest room”, it was a full ass master suite. It was a big room, huge bed with a closet and a spacious bathroom. She could only imagine what his bedroom looked like. Harry asks to excuse him for a second and leaves. She places her clutch on the nightstand, drops her shoes by the bed, looking at the fluffy duvet, thinking about jumping on it and just falling asleep there. She sits on the bed, looking at the whole room and running her hand on the soft duvet. Harry comes back with a shirt on his hand.

-          Here, so you don’t have to sleep in that dress.

-          Oh it’s fine, don’t worry ab…

-          Just take it. You can give it back tomorrow. – He says interrupting her and handing over the shirt.

-          O…ok...

-          It’s clean, I promise.

Lori smiles.

-          Ok, thanks Harry.

-          No problem. Rest for a bit and I’ll see ya in a bit…we’ll grab coffee on the way to your place.

-          Yeah, ok.

Harry turns around to leave and Lori grabs his arm. He turns around.

-          Thanks Harry.

-          You already said that…

-          No, for the night. I had a lot of fun today. You’re a really nice guy. – She says without realizing she’s holding his hand. Harry smiles.

-          It’s ok. It was a fun night for me too. You’re easy to talk to…I need people like that in my life.

She smiles and looks down, realizing she’s holding his hand for some reason. She gently let go of it.

-          Good night then. – She says leaning in for a kiss on his cheek, making him blush a little bit.

-          Yea, good night, love. – He says rubbing her shoulder.

He leaves and she stares at the empty threshold for a few seconds before closing the door and turning around to face the bed. She puts his shirt on it and goes to the bathroom to wash her face, thankful that she always carried a travel tooth brush and paste wherever she went. After cleaning up, she goes back to the bedroom, taking her dress off.  She takes his shirt and looks at it for a second. It was greenish grey long sleeved shirt, very soft and, as Harry promised, it smelled very clean. She takes her bra off and puts the oversized shirt on, crawling into bed.

She wakes up with the sound of her cell chirping. Waking up felt like the hardest thing she’s ever had to do and her eyes refused to follow the order to open. The bed and her felt like the same thing, and if she tried to move, the whole bed would as well, like a Disney fairy tale with princesses and beasts. She finally cracks one eye open and peeks her phone, finding out it was 11 am. She gets up, goes to the bathroom to clean up and brush her teeth, comes back, fixes the bed neatly, gets dressed and folds Harry shirt, placing it on the bed. She gets her stuff and walks silently out of the bedroom to find the house dead quiet. She realizes Harry’s still asleep, so she writes him a note, thanking again for everything and leaving her number.

Later that day, sitting at her desk, going through some of the next events she’d have to go to organize her schedule, when she hears a loud slurping sound. She turns around to find Nick Grimshaw with a black floral shirt, riped jeans and sipping coffee, holding another cup in the other.

-          Same clothes, huh? – he says offering the coffee to Lori.

-          Oh, jesus Grim… - she says with her hand on her forehad.

-          Uuuh, that bad, huh?

-          No, not bad, I’m fine.

-          Who did you ditch me for?

-          Ditch ya?

-          I told you I wanted to take you out dancing…I sure as hell hope it was for someone worth it.

-          I…I forgot, sorry…. – she says taking a sip of her coffee – I mean…assuming I would’ve said yes.

-          You would! And if you didn’t I’d drag you out.

-          That’s harassment.

-          Harassment is you not shaking that apple on Evil Queen’ face.

-          You being the Evil Queen? - Asks Lori raising one eyebrow.

-          I’m Snow White, honey. - Says Grimmy tilting his head.

Lori smiles, drinking her coffee.

-          So? Spill it. D’ya get laid?

-          What??? – she says choking on her coffee – God, Grim! No! I didn’t.

-          Who’s the wuss?

-          What????

-          Who took you home enough for ya to come to work the next day with the same outfit and didn’t get ya to bed?

-          That’s absolutely none of your business……..what are you doing here anyway??? Don’t you have a broadcast to do?

-          I came over to find out what excuse you’d have this time.

-          Thanks for the coffee, Grim! – she says clearly kicking him out.

-          Dinner?

-          Sure!

Grim kisses her head and leaves. She looks at the time on her screen and checks her phone one more time, before sighing and going back to work.

Two months later, Lori is in New York covering a story about NYFW when she get s text from Aimee. She’s surprised by it, since she haven’t talked to her since the concert. The text was a heart emoji with a picture attached to it. The photo was Harry, walking out of a cafe, wearing Lori’s bomber jacket. She smiles at the picture with a bit of pit on her stomach, since she hasn’t heard from Harry ever since that night at his house. She remembers a quote by an author she liked, that said “Sometimes you are going to miss a person who was an almost to you. And feel sad because there is no name for that feeling. You just feel it in a way that makes you tired to your very bones” and that’s exactly how she felt. Harry was an almost to her. Almost something. And she missed the way she felt that night she spent with him. She didn’t even know for sure what she missed, she wasn’t in love with him or anything like that. She just missed having him there, just in reach, being able to talk to him. And she felt silly because it was only one night. It’s not like they were friends for years, even tho it felt like that. There was something about Harry that was very comfortable, like if she curled up to him, he’d welcome her in. So she replies Aimee a smiley face, not knowing what else to say.

She puts her phone back in her coat pocket only to feel it vibrate again. She pulls it out and there was a text from Grim. Same picture, question mark. She replies 

-          What? Why are you sending me a picture of Harry Styles? - She replies

-          Isn’t that your jacket? - Grimmy asks. 

She thinks for a second about what to respond, last thing she needed was for Grim to get into that, she knew they were friends. 

-           Am I the only owner of bomber jackets in the world? - She writes.

He doesn’t reply right away, which makes her think she won the benefit of the doubt. However before she could celebrate, he sends another picture, zoomed in to the jacket sleeves, with the caption “yes with the embroidery you did”. Fuck!

-          We’ll talk about it when I’m done here, I’m working - She writes after a pondering on what to say.

-          Ok, but if you hooked up with Haz without telling me I swear to god…. 

Taking a deep breath, she puts the phone in her pocket and grabs her camera to go back to work.

Lori loved covering fashion events, since she loved checking the runways and what every designer was up to that year. She had an artsy style with her work, so besides the “work photos” she needed to take for BBC, Fashion Weeks were a perfect place for her to play with the fabrics and make ups for her own personal work. Even though, these events were the hardest to cover, because the days were always chaotic and fast, so she’d have to run everywhere to be able to document everything. She gets in her hotel room destroyed, everything in pain. Her feet and legs from running around all day, crouching over to get the right angles; her neck and back, from carrying her heavy CANON camera and accessories. She puts all her equipment on the chair near the bed and falls face first on the bed, falling asleep. She wakes up in the middle of the night, feeling like a truck ran over her, the discreet make up she applied earlier that day became a goth super villain mask all over her face. She goes to the bathroom, takes a quick shower, removing the villainous disguise. She goes back to the bed, sits down and picks up the phone to check her messages. One from Grim that only said “You hoe!”, which made her frown, and another one from and unkown number. It only said “Oi”. She stares at the message for a second and puts the phone down, going back to sleep. The next couple of days, Lori barely has time to eat or sleep, because one event connects with the other from early in the morning until late hours if she had to cover after parties as well. When she’s finally done and is getting ready to go back to London, she takes her phone to let her boss know she was going back home, that she saw that text from Grim and decided to call him.

-          Hey Grim.

-          Finally!!!!!

-          Sorry, it’s been crazy here, I don’t think I’ve eaten anything in two days…

-          Eat something then. You’re in New York, go to Momoya.

-          Send me money, then.

-          No! You’re in New York, every corner is a potential money pit…

-          Then don’t tell me to go straight to one of those…

-          Fine, get a hot dog. There’s plenty of those around New York as well. Of all shapes and sizes… - He says laughing.

-          Yeah, no. I’ll just eat on the plane. – She says with a disgust expression – What’s up?

-          Ehm…what’s up with you, doll? 

-          You called me a hoe…I’m guessing you have something to say.

-          I don’t have an….OH…YOU BACKSTABBING HOE!!!!

-          Theeere it is.

-          You spent the night with Harry Styles and didn’t tell me???? - Grimmy says in an offended tone

-          I didn’t spen…

-          He said you did.

-          He s…you talked to him? 

-          Yeah, I texted him where he got the jacket, YOUR JACKET, and he said a friend gave it to him. MY FRIEND!

-          Jesus Grim…

-          And then he told me everything!!!! And that YOU.FUCKING.DITCHED.HIM!!! - He screams, making Lori take the phone off her ear until he finished yelling.

-          I what???

-          You snuck out on him.

-          I most certainly did not!

-          Yeah you did! He was bummed out about it, too. You hurt Harry Styles feelings. You’re DEAD!

-          Ok, first of all, stop calling him Harry Styles, he’s right, it does sound weird. Second of all…I did not snuck out on anyone…

-          Well, deal with it yourself, ‘coz I gave him your number.

Lori stays silent for a moment.

-          Ohhh…that’s who that was… - she says, realizing who the unknown number was.

-          You phone ditched him as well???? Jesus Christ woman…

-          I didn’t know it was him.

-          Answer him. At once. A-N-S-W-E-R H-I-M. You’ll be dead to me if I don’t hear from him in 15 minutes!

-          Fine, Grim.

-          Ok, hang up and call him now! You can eat later.

-          Thanks for your concern about my health, Grim. What would I do without you?

-          Die an old maid never getting laid, that’s what.

He hangs up the phone, leaving Lori with the silent line on her ear for a couple of seconds. Before looking at it and going to the text Harry sent. She stared at the “Oi” for a couple of minutes, deciding on what to say. After all that pondering, she settles for “Hey”. She puts her phone in her pocket without waiting to see if he’d respond and leaves the room to check-out. She’s already on the plane, having her well deserved meal, that was not so good but from the 2 days fast, she really enjoyed, that Harry replied back. She looks at his text and it was just a question mark, which made her kind of angry. Seriously? Who answers a text with a question mark? She considers leaving him on read, but remembers Grim’s threat and texts back that she’s on a plane. He answers “Ok”.

The plane lands in Heathrow and on her way back home, in the taxi, her phone rings.

-          Hey.

-          Hi – says Harry on the other side of the call. – How you’ve been?

Lori smiles with the sound of his voice. It was a bit deeper through the phone.

-          I’m good.

-          So you’re friends with Grimmy, heh?

-          Yeah – She chuckles.

-          He gave me your number, I hope that’s ok?

-          I gave you my number.

-          Wh…what? – he says with a confused tone in his voice.

-          I mean, it’s not a problem at all that he gave you my number, I’m glad he did. But I also gave you my number.

-          When?

-          That morning. Before I…

-          Snuck away? - He says interrupting her

-          I didn’t…ok, I left, but I didn’t mean to “sneak away”. But I had a meeting at 11h45.

-          Hum…

-          And you were sleeping. It sort of felt like a bit much to walk into your bedroom to say bye bye.

He just huffs on the other side of the line.

-          And I left you my number…I just thought you didn’t…I don’t know…

-          You didn’t leave me your number. – He says firmly on the other side of the phone.

-          I did!

-          No, you did not.

-          I did! I left ya a note in the kitchen.

-          What?

-          Yeah, like a post-it. I left near the flower vase on it, with a pen I found in a drawer.

-          Sorry, but there was no…oh! I remember the pen. - He says, like he remembered something.

-          And the note?

-          No…but the pen wasn’t supposed to be there because that was a gift from a friend of mine that passed away…I remember thinking what was that doing in the kitchen.

-          Oh…sorry….I didn’t know.

-          It’s ok…

-          Maybe it flew away?

-          I still think you didn’t leave me your number and is just making this up coz I got it either way…but I’ll look for it when I get back home. – he says in a noticeable lighter tone of voice.

-          I was actually quite bummed out you didn’t call me.

-          I was bummed out you left without saying goodbye…or leaving me your contact.

-          You’re Harry S…Edward…. – he chuckles on the other side – Couldn’t you find out? You knew I worked at BBC.

Harry doesn’t say a word, Lori only hears his breathing sound.

-          You’re really upset I didn’t call ya, hm? – he says with a ironic tone to his voice.

-          Well a girl’s gotta feed her ego, yeah?

-          So does a guy.

-          We’re even then, I guess.

-          I guess we are. Altho I’m guessing my ego is a bit bigger...

-          Ok, don’t come out with measuring tapes now...

Harry laughs.

-          Well…now that that’s settled… - He says.

-          We can keep in touch, yeah? - She asks in a hopeful tone.

-          Yeah, ok. You’re in London?

-          Yeah, just left Heathrow.

-          ‘K. I’ll give ya a ring when I’m back in town.

-          Ok, cool.

-          I want a rematch on that game.

-          Ok, I’ll bring the Haribos!

Harry laughs on the other side.

-          Oh, before you go… - says Lori.

-          Yeah?

-          Can you let Grim know we spoke? He’s leaving threats on my phone. I’m afraid to wake up to a bloody decapitated Carebear head on my pillow.

Harry belts a laughter.

-          Ok, I’ll let him know. Beware of rainbows in the meantime.

Lori laughs and they say their goodbyes. She hangs up the phone with a huge smile on her face, that slowly fades away when she realizes she’ll have to thank Grimmy in some way now.