#Los Angeles Event Venue

[vertigola]

Vertigo Event Venue Los Angeles

Address: 400 W Glenoaks Blvd, Glendale, CA 91202

Phone: 818-242-7252

Website: banquet hall rental, event venue rental, los angeles event venue rental, Los Angeles Event Venue, glendale banquet hall, los angeles banquet hall

Vertigo Event Venue is a wedding venue and los angeles event venue located in Glendale, California, just few miles outside of the heart of Los Angeles. This exclusive 2-floor banquet hall in Glendale has been carefully designed to offer a luxurious ambience for those celebrating special occasions. From the sleek modern lobby to its elegant, spacious ballrooms, it’s ideal for couples dreaming of a grand celebration in the city of LA.

[formeryelpers]

The Valentine, 600 East 4th St, Los Angeles (Arts District), CA 90013

We attended a wedding at The Valentine. It’s a stunning space and there were ample staff members helping make sure everything went smoothly. The wedding took place in a room that looked like a greenhouse that was filled with plants. The reception took place in an adjoining room with a similar industrial/plant/tropical theme. The rooms/venue are on the smaller side, so there isn’t much room to wander or walk around. I felt trapped in one room and then trapped in the dining room.

Pre-wedding: I’m not sure if this is the venue’s fault, but the guests had to stand outside until the time of the wedding. The venue is a across the street from skid row, so this felt uncomfortable.

Greenhouse: It was pretty but did seem humid like a greenhouse. The benches were uncomfortable and too close together.

Dining room: The wood tables and chairs looked elegant.

Bar area: Easy to access, looked classy

Restrooms: Not enough when you have an event with over 100 people. I think the women’s restroom had three stalls.

Sound system: Something was seriously wrong. The woman who made the announcements sounded very muddled. The music was too loud and I couldn’t hear people sitting across from me. Some of the toasts were also hard to hear (muddled). I’m not sure who was at fault.

Parking: None provided but you could hire a valet service

Area: Sketchy but the staff stays outside

4 out of 5 stars.

By Lolia S.

[the1909losangeles]

Best Corporate Event Venues in Los Angeles for Any Occasion

Explore The 1909, a premier corporate event venue in Los Angeles. Nestled in serene Topanga Canyon, this unique space offers versatile indoor and outdoor settings ideal for meetings, conferences, and team-building events. Experience seamless planning, modern amenities, and an inspiring atmosphere to make your corporate event unforgettable at The 1909. Perfect for companies seeking sophistication and style.

[vertigoeventvenuelosangeles]

Vertigo Event Venue Los Angeles

Website: https://vertigo.la/

Address: 400 W Glenoaks Blvd, Glendale, CA 91202

Phone: 818-242-7252

Vertigo Event Venue is a wedding venue and los angeles event venue located in Glendale, California, just few miles outside of the heart of Los Angeles. This exclusive 2-floor banquet hall in Glendale has been carefully designed to offer a luxurious ambience for those celebrating special occasions. From the sleek modern lobby to its elegant, spacious ballrooms, it’s ideal for couples dreaming of a grand celebration in the city of LA.

[reasonsforhope]

Climate change in 2025: So, what now?

Some real talk for the new year, about where we now stand, and what the next years are going to look like.

(Still ends on a “be hopeful!! or else” kind of note, but definitely gets into some heavy truths about the meaning of recent events.)

--

Obviously, between Trump's reelection at the Los Angeles fires, things are feeling a lot more precarious than they did just a few months ago. I know a lot of people are incredibly stressed. I know I'm certainly stressed.

But this isn't the end. This isn't the beginning of the end, either. We're not doomed.

Don't despair.

Yes, things are about to get harder. Yes, the effects of climate change are now becoming truly apparent.

But here's what you need to hold on to:

We have already cut expected warming in half.

More about that including sources here: (x) I'm not going to go into it again in detail, read the source for that. But it's true. In 2000, when I was a kid, they were predicting 4, 5, 6 degrees of warming, plus a runaway greenhouse effect that would boil the planet.

Now, scientists expect that global temperatures will likely land between 2 and 3 degrees.

Which is incredibly shitty, yes. But it's survivable.

And I have for a lot of reasons (check these masterposts on this) to believe with the confidence of knowing that we're going to get expected warming down even further.

And that's something to celebrate.

I’m not saying that the effects of warming aren’t already bad, or won’t get worse. I’m from California, I currently live in LA. My state’s been on fire for half my life. Natural disasters starting amping up early here (and we’re certainly in the middle of another historic number now). And yeah, it's fucking stressful right now.

But like I said, my state’s been breaking horrible disaster records constantly for the past ten years. I've done this before. And you know what? Natural disasters have been getting more and more survivable for years, largely thanks to faster warnings and better mass communication (x).

Does it suck how many natural disasters there are now? Yeah.

Does it suck how many more still there will be? Yeah.

Do we need to keep working our asses off to beat climate change? Yeah.

Are we going to need to organize and mobilize (both politically and especially community-wise) like never before to see as many people through these times as best as possible? Yeah.

But that doesn't mean we should despair. It absolutely does not mean that we've already lost.

An unknown number of the most optimistic futures were foreclosed when Trump won the US election. That’s painful but a reality.

But for twenty-ish of the past twenty-five years, the science said we weren’t going to survive climate change at all.

For most of my life, we were worried that we had set Earth on a course to become like fucking Venus (which is, on average, well over 800 degrees Farenheit). Even if it didn’t get that bad, we were so worried that global warming might wipe out all life on earth - except maybe the cockroaches.

(Literally, when I was a younger the kids at my church put on a play about that. It was like an adaptation of A Christmas Carol where the future only had talking cockroaches. I grew up so worried about this. (Not the cockroaches thing specifically. Mostly the general concept. Only a little about the cockroaches. Also yes my church was very granola why do you ask.))

But starting a few years ago, studies have shown that there wasn’t going to be a runaway greenhouse effect that could turn us into Venus; that earth is warming, yes, but we don’t seem to be in danger of that.

Between that and the fact that the adoption of renewables globally is too fast to be stopped, and we do have the technology and environmental science knowledge to eventually re-lower global temperatures by getting to net negative carbon emissions (x), and most countries and at least 73% of people in all countries for which there is data (x) actually care very much about the climate, yeah, we have closed the door on the lava planet future.

And yeah, I do think that’s worth celebrating.

That’s a massive fucking victory.

There's still more work to do, and I have every confidence that we're going to do it. I also think that, given the loss of the US election, there’s a really, really strong chance the developing world will be what saves us, and we’ll just be lucky to be along for the ride.

Most people have no idea of the kinds of amazing stories and statistics coming out of the developing world and Indigenous communities. The world is changing for the better on the environment, even as disasters (and the US) are getting worse. Solar power is going to revolutionize the fucking world, because it’s going to grant humanity universal access to electricity, and that’s going to revolutionize the world, especially the developing world (aka the global majority). And most people have no idea at all, much less how much it’s going to change.

So, yeah, natural disasters are going to keep getting worse.

But there’s a long, long long fucking way between “natural disasters are going to keep getting worse” and “the extinction of all of humanity and/or the vast majority of life on earth”

So, in the face of Trump, in the face of everything, I still choose to hope. I still choose to celebrate this as a true and profound accomplishment.

Because for over twenty years, I was afraid I’d never get to.

That difference is absolutely worth celebrating.

[cheynovak]

Unexpected Melody

Characters: Jensen Ackles x F/Reader Y/N     

Summary:  Y/N is a talented singer and a longtime friend of Jensen Ackles. When Jensen invites her to one of his shows, she expects to be impressed by his voice—but nothing could have prepared her for the magnetic pull she feels when she sees him on stage.

Warnings: none

English is not my first language 

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

Very quick one shot, enjoy!

You’d known Jensen Ackles for years, ever since your paths had crossed at some charity event in Los Angeles. You were a singer, touring across the country, and he was the star of one of the biggest TV shows on air.

Despite your busy lives, you’d kept in touch, grabbing coffee whenever you found yourselves in the same city. Over the years, a comfortable friendship had developed between you, the kind that made it easy to laugh and even easier to talk. You had always admired his talent, his easy-going charm, and how down-to-earth he remained despite his fame. But that was the extent of it.

Until tonight.

You were in Austin, Texas, for a few days after wrapping up your own tour. Jensen had invited you to one of his shows with his band, Radio Company. You knew he could sing—he’d casually serenaded you during late-night hangouts before—but you’d never seen him perform live. So when he asked you to come, you couldn’t resist.

“C’mon, Y/N,” he’d said with that infectious grin of his. “I want you to see what I’ve been up to.”

So here you were, standing in the crowd at a small, intimate venue, surrounded by fans who had come to see Jensen in a different light.

The air was thick with anticipation as you stood near the front of the stage, surrounded by eager fans. The lights dimmed, and the crowd erupted in cheers. When Jensen appeared, guitar slung across his body, the entire atmosphere shifted. It was as if the world tilted slightly, putting him in the center of it all.

The band started playing, and as Jensen’s voice filled the room, you felt your heart skip a beat. It wasn’t just that he could sing—he owned the stage with a kind of effortless swagger that you had never seen from him before. The rhythm of the music seemed to pulse through you, syncing with the rapid beat of your heart.

Your eyes were glued to him. The way his fingers moved over the strings, how his voice growled in just the right way, and the way he seemed to pour his entire soul into every note. And that smile—God, that smile. It was as if he knew something you didn’t, as if he could see right through you.

When the night sky emerged, you realized you hadn’t looked away from him once. You were completely mesmerized by the way he moved, the way the sweat glistened on his skin under the stage lights. The way his shirt clung to his body, revealing the toned muscles you’d never really paid attention to before.

Your mouth felt dry, and a strange heat spread through you. You tried to shake it off, but the sensation only grew stronger, more insistent. Was this lust? You’d been attracted to people before, sure, but this… this was different. This felt like something more primal, more intense.

And then, as if he could sense your gaze, Jensen’s eyes found yours in the crowd. His expression shifted—softened, almost. The intensity of his gaze made your breath hitch. He held your eyes as he sang the next few lines, and you felt like they were meant just for you.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds, Jensen’s attention shifted back to the crowd. But the damage was done. Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of the torrent of emotions swirling inside you. Could it be that you were starting to feel something for him? Something more than friendship?

The show continued, but you were barely aware of anything other than Jensen. The way his body moved with the music, the way his voice seemed to wash over you, the way your skin prickled with heat every time he looked your way.

By the time the final song ended, your mind was a jumble of confusion and desire. The crowd cheered as the band took their bows, and you clapped along with them, but your thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

As the lights came up and the crowd began to disperse, you made your way backstage, where Jensen had asked you to meet him after the show. Your heart pounded with each step, unsure of what you would say or how you would act around him now.

When you finally found him, he was toweling off, his shirt now soaked with sweat, his hair messy in the most attractive way possible. He looked up and grinned when he saw you, the easy-going, charming Jensen you knew so well.

“So, what did you think?” he asked, his voice still slightly husky from the performance.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat. How could you possibly sum up what you were feeling? The attraction, the confusion, the sudden, overwhelming need to be close to him?

“It was… incredible,” you managed to say, hoping he couldn’t hear the tremor in your voice.

Jensen stepped closer, and you could smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with sweat. It was intoxicating, sending another wave of heat through you. “You sure about that? You look a little… distracted.”

There was a teasing edge to his voice, but his eyes were serious, searching yours as if trying to read your thoughts.

“I’m just—” You hesitated, then took a deep breath, deciding to be honest. “You were amazing, Jensen. I didn’t expect… that.”

His smile widened, and there was something in his expression that made your stomach flip. “I’m glad you liked it. I was hoping you would.”

There it was again—that look. The one that made your pulse quicken and your thoughts spiral. You had seen him flirt before, had even been on the receiving end of it a few times, but this felt different. More intimate. More real.

He stepped even closer, and suddenly, the space between you felt charged with something electric. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and the urge to reach out and touch him was almost overwhelming.

“Jensen…” you started, your voice softer than you intended.

He didn’t say anything, just waited, his eyes locked on yours, patient but expectant. As if he knew there was more you wanted to say, more you wanted to do, but was giving you the space to make the next move.

You swallowed hard, your mind a chaotic mix of emotions. Was this just physical attraction, heightened by the adrenaline of the performance? Or was it something more? Something you had been blind to until now?

You didn’t know. All you knew was that the sight of him—sweaty, breathless, and so incredibly close—was driving you crazy. You'd only ever dated rockstars never actors, you'd made him clear in the beginning. Was this him making it clear he can be both? No that is ridiculous.

Yet without thinking, you took a step forward, closing the gap between you. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, and the sensation made your skin tingle. Your hand reached out, almost of its own accord, and you placed it on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm.

He sucked in a breath at your touch, and you looked up at him, seeing the same desire reflected in his eyes.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in the faintest of kisses. It was tentative, testing the waters, but the spark it ignited was undeniable.

Jensen responded immediately, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss. It was everything you hadn’t realized you wanted—intense, consuming, and filled with a passion that took your breath away.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other. You searched his eyes, looking for answers, for reassurance, for something that would help you make sense of the storm inside you.

But all you saw was him—Jensen, your friend, your… something more.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

His words sent a jolt of realization through you, and suddenly, everything clicked into place. The reason you couldn’t look away from him tonight, the reason your body felt like it was on fire, the reason you were standing here now, in his arms.

It wasn’t just lust. It was something more. Something you had been too afraid to acknowledge.

Until now.

--

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :)

@kr804573 @nancymcl@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27

@call-me-mrs-winchester @cevansbaby-dove @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

Rhys Darby returns to New Zealand for two huge milestones - Spy

Rhys Darby is back in New Zealand.

Why is Kiwi comedy star Rhys Darby back in New Zealand?

Rhys Darby is returning from his base in Los Angeles for a double celebration over the next few weeks - his 50th birthday and a special event to mark his 25 years working as a stand-up comic.

“I’m home for my 50th birthday celebrations,” he reveals to Spy.

Darby hits the big milestone on March 21 and says he, his wife and manager Rosie are planning on a shared party with their family and friends.

A week later, Darby will be in proud parent mode as his eldest son Finn’s band, Great Big Cow, will be performing at The Whammy Bar on Karangahape Rd on March 27.

“So, as a cool dad, I’ll be there of course, with my band manager suit on,” he says.

There will be fun and laughter to have on Waiheke Island the following week too. Popular island spot Wild Estate Vineyard in Onetangi has secured Darby for an exclusive one-off New Zealand show with an intimate audience of only 200 tickets.

Punters can be sure Darby’s will be giving the native birds on the island a squawk for their money with his famous bird calls from his 2021 TV stand-up show Mystic Time Bird.

“The show is called ‘25 Years�� - it is a celebration of my stand-up career,” say Darby.

“I’ve hand-picked the best material from my five comedy specials, and I’ve also added some new stuff,” he divulges. “It’s all killer, so the audience can expect me having a blast, and so I’m sure they will too.”

Wild Estate has become the go-to live venue on Waiheke for comedy and live gigs; last month, the Jordan Luck Band rocked the vineyard, and comedians Nick Rado, Tony Lyall, Paul Douglas and Ruby Esther have all had successful stand-up nights there too.

Darby has been home several times over the last few years, whether to film with his mate Taika Waititi in West Auckland for the second season of their hit HBO Max show Our Flag Means Death in late 2022, or his Kiwi road trip with David Hasselhoff called Hoff the Beaten Track last spring.

Darby finished the year with aplomb, hosting the 51st International Emmy Awards in New York in November.

The production company for his road trip show, Stripe Studios, made headlines last month with the New Zealand Herald’s Media Insider column, penned by Shayne Currie, reporting Stripe for unpaid bills. The production company also filmed a travel-style show with US comedian Iliza Shlesinger. Currie reported the Netflix comedy star is applying to have Stripe Studios (Comedy) Ltd liquidated. Stuff followed up this story, reporting Hasselhoff was also owed money from the production company.

Darby politely had no comment on the state of his and The Hoff’s road trip show, but sources say Darby played a big part in getting as many of its Kiwi crew as he could paid by Stripe.

However, Darby did share that Hollywood has been rather wet and dull so far this year. “I have a few top-secret TV and film projects in development, which I am really looking forward to.”

“What I can reveal is: I’ve been involved in Mukpuddy’s awesome adaptation of Badjelly the Witch,” he says.

“I think it’s going to be so so good!”

Source: NZ Herald

[cityofmeliora]

Ghost and Southern California

i'm from California, so a lot of the locations in the Ghost lore are familiar to me! i wanna use this post to show / explain Ghost being set in the Los Angeles area.

though it hadn't been explicitly stated yet then, there are actually hints that Ghost is based in Southern California as early as Chapter 4: The Accident. when Sister Imperator is driving, you can see palm trees on the hills along the road. of course, lots of places have palm trees, but the specific combination of palm trees with the rocky cliffs and sparse vegetation feels distinctly Californian to me.

the Dance Macabre music video shows Nihil met Sister Imperator at a mansion in LA (as explained by the intro). don't know the exact location, but if i had to guess, i'd place it maybe somewhere in Beverly Hills, which has a lot of mansions like this.

the Kiss The Go-Goat music video again confirms that they're in Los Angeles. it features the Whisky a Go Go, a real music venue in West Hollywood. the Mary On A Cross animated music video accurately places it on a corner along the Sunset Strip.

the Mary On A Cross lyric video shows Sister Imperator walking through the Ministry building before leaving to see the show at the Whisky a Go Go. this is another indicator the Ministry building is in the LA area since it's within driving distance of the venue. scenes in the Ministry building are filmed at a real mausoleum northeast of LA, but i'm not going to name the location because the Ministry is supposed to be a fictional building. interestingly, the lyric video also gives us the exact time of the concert.

after the events of Kiss The Go-Goat, the Mary On A Cross animated music video starts with Sister Imperator driving to her house, which is in the Hollywood Hills neighborhood near the Hollywood Sign. you can see from the road that they're in the hills looking over the city.

then Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil run from their house to the Hollywood Sign. there are hiking trails that go from the surrounding neighborhoods up to the Hollywood Sign. you can go behind it just like they do in the video.

Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil cross a body of water that is most likely the Hollywood Reservoir, although the video places the Hollywood Sign west of the lake instead of east, as in real life.

Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil make out in a cemetery (which i did not attempt to locate) and then end up at a motel. this is not a real motel, though. it's the Bates Motel movie set at Universal Studios Hollywood. i laughed so hard because recognized it instantly in Rite Here Rite now. (i've been on the same tour that the Nameless Ghouls were on.) Universal Studios Hollywood is both a theme park and an actual film studio. there are people filming when Nihil calls Mr. Psaltarian to come pick him up in the The Future Is A Foreign Land music video.

so to summarize some of the locations in those videos: the Whisky a Go Go, Hollywood Sign, and Universal Studios are highlighted in yellow. the red outline on the map shows the boundary of the Hollywood Hills neighborhood. the Hollywood Reservoir is the body of water in the middle of it.

The Future Is A Foreign Land music video and Chapter 13: The Beach Life feature Mr. Psaltarian's beach house, which is on the Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu. though there are beach houses all along the SoCal coast, Malibu is closest to LA, and is pretty much the only place where houses are that close to the water without some kind of barrier. it's a real house and i've driven past it. i know the exact location but i'm not sharing it, for obvious reasons.

here is Malibu on a map relative to Los Angeles:

as a side note, it appears Cardi now drives Mr. Psaltarian's old car, a 1968 Buick LeSabre convertible. it has California license plates, of course, but the plates must have been replaced at some point, since that California license plate design wasn't in use until 1988.

lastly, Rite Here Rite Now is set at The Forum (now called KIA Forum), which is in Inglewood near the LAX airport. Inglewood is technically its own city, but it's completely surrounded by LA.

when Rite Here Rite Now released, TF said in an interview that it's "common knowledge" that Ghost is based in LA. i found it a bit funny because i've read very few Ghost fanfics that are actually set in LA, so i don't know how 'common' that knowledge really is, LOL. but i hope this post helps!

WHAT WAS BEHIND THE DECISION TO SHOOT THE FILM AT THE FORUM IN L.A.? TOBIAS FORGE: [...] There’s this common knowledge that the HQ of the band seems to be in L.A. So the Forum is not only a classic venue, but it’s sort of their home turf. Had we placed the story someplace else, we would’ve had to justify: Why are they there? Why is this show special? Revolver (June 2024)

[hsslilly-blog]

Summary: Claire Swanson attends a masquerade ball with her best friend, Addison. As is the norm with her, everything quickly turns into disaster when she runs into the worst man to have ever lived. Word Count: 6,9k A/N: This is my first time posting my writing here! Some things: 1. this one closely follows the structure of the original quest since I thought it worked for what I wanted to do (might not happen with my other rewrites); 2. English is not my first language; and 3. unsure if this is too long, since it’s mostly dialogue.

A universal truth to those who knew her, Claribel Swanson always found herself in situations she would not be able to explain. From totaling her car because she got distracted by a donut shop to spending a night in county jail since her license was expired, trouble followed in Claire’s shadow. She’d argue it was not her fault most of the time. Then again, it did not matter if she wasn’t the reagent — she was always the catalyst.

Mid July had a tendency of being arid in Los Angeles. The orange sky hid behind palm trees, while the light breeze did nothing to soften people’s flushed cheeks. The car radio informed Claire it was the hottest day of the year; so it was, of course, the perfect day to hold a white tie masquerade ball.

The taxi ride to Malibu was number two on her list of worst experiences in the month: first, wearing a petticoat in such a cramped space was very unpleasant; then Addison wouldn't stop rambling about the famous designer she wanted to meet; and, to top it all off, the car's air conditioning wasn't working. As soon as Claire got inside the venue, she was set on getting something to drink.

As she looked for a waiter, Claire swerved from women in long bouffant skirts and men preening in ill-suited tuxedos. She scrutinized their outfits as much as they must've been judging hers. Sequined gowns were abhorrent. Polka dots were worse. Holstein pattern… an inspired choice. Claire's favorite part of those events was the pageantry of it all. The low décolletage of the dresses did not take away from the stuffiness: theatrics, she liked to think, was rich people's most treasured hobby. She knew it was hers, at least.

The Regency-style ballroom was almost too much for Claire, but she fancied the chandeliers. The painted murals in the ceiling were pretty, too. The tall windows and the red curtains stopped her in her tracks for a few seconds before she resumed walking. And the people on the dance floor were terrible; did they not know how to quadrille? Outrageous.

Claire stole a champagne flute from a tray. It was not her drink of choice, and far from something she would have to dampen a heatwave, but it was fine. Everything was fine. She loved the bubbles! However, before she could thank the server, Claire's eyes singled out a lady in a feathery, bright green gown. The round, sturdy shape of her skirt left no doubt: crinoline!?

Claire had to find Addison. She could not keep in her outrage. That was like, totally absurd! Crinoline!? Oh, Claire was all for propriety. She loved propriety. She was the most proper young woman in the entirety of the San Fernando Valley. Crinoline, though, was taking it a step too far; next thing people would be wearing bustles and bonnets and asking when the regiment would be coming to town! She knew Addison would take no joy in Claire's ridicule of the lady's outfit, but she had to share her vexation with someone.

In her state of distress, Claire turned around and ran straight into a man's chest. Her champagne flute almost slipped out her hand, but she managed to avoid a disaster. The man wasn't as lucky: she didn't know what he had been drinking, only that it now was all over the floor.

"Oooops…!" Claire grimaced. "Sorry!"

The man frowned, assessing her damage. While his suit was left unscathed, his dress shirt was soaked. "Do you tend to bolt out running like a lunatic?"

"Um- What?!" She scoffs, "how was I supposed to know you were standing like, right behind me!? Why were you standing right behind me!?"

"I was not. I was walking past you," he said. "You, on the other hand, are blocking the passage and scurrying around with no apparent regard for anyone else in this ballroom."

Claire shook her hands in an attempt to dry her gloves. "I'm not blocking the passage! It's a ballroom! There's no passage!"

"You- Could you please stop with that?!" he raised his arms to protect himself from her. "You're making it worse."

"Worse?! I'm trying to do something about- You probably ruined my gloves and- You are sooo lucky my dress is fine."

"I did not ruin anything. I was walking and you got in my way."

"Literally swerve. Do you only move in a straight line!? Are you like, an ant or something?"

The man stared at Claire for a few seconds, not bothering to answer. Instead, he turned in the other direction. This was very insulting to her, and she could not constrain a scoff.

"Hey-!"

Claire trailed after him, her heels clacking on the parquet floor. Some guests measured her down as she zigzagged through the crowd; she did not even bother excusing herself! After what felt like crossing the entire ballroom, Claire caught up to the man at the venue's bar.

"Hi-? I'm talking with you!"

"Stop following me."

"I'm not- I just want to help!"

"I don't want your help." He came to a halt, turning to face her. His eyes flicked to the people around them. "And you are making a scene."

"I wouldn't be if you didn't walk off while I was talking with you!"

Once again, he did not answer Claire. He did, however, point to the crystal flute she still carried. She resigned herself into handing it to him and watched as he placed both their glasses on the bar counter.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Still, unfortunately."

Claire frowned, her lips pouting as she sulked, "there's no need to be so rude!"

"You just threw a champagne flute at me. I'm of the opinion I'm allowed to be curt with you, in retribution."

"It was an accident!"

"It doesn't matter if it was an accident. Your carelessness put both of us in this… circumstance," he gestured to himself and then to Claire's wet gloves. "So I'd appreciate it if you'd turn around and carry on to wherever you were running to before we met."

The man did not wait to see if Claire would comply with his request; he turned his back to her once more and sat on one of the bar stools, preoccupied with his shirt. Claire stared at his nape for a few seconds, the chatter around her somehow louder. She shifted on her feet… looked up… bit the tip of her gloved fingers.

The problem with Claribel Swanson was that she could not let go of anything, ever.

"But I feel bad." She slid to the man's side and observed as he attempted to fix her mess with his handkerchief. "I want to, like, do something."

"There is not a single thing you can do to make this any better. Unless you have a change of clothes, which I don't believe you do." He didn't look up to her as he spoke, "if you can think of anything else, I accept suggestions."

Oh, Claire had a lot of suggestions. In fact, fixing this predicament would be no trouble for her! She knew exactly what this man needed, and she was more than happy to be of service. She smiled:

"I know- I can keep you company!"

"That's the one thing I can't imagine myself ever desiring."

"Wha-! You're…- I'm just trying to help you not look super stupid alone and-" Claire flaps her hand at him, "so people don't think you're like, a drunk or something!"

"I don't care about what people think."

"You just told me I was making a scene."

"That's different. By attracting us unnecessary attention you were embarrassing yourself and, most importantly, me. I don't want to be asked to leave the function. If people make baseless assumptions about me, then there's hardly anything I can do. It's a masquerade."

"That's literally the same thing."

"No, it's not."

"Well, it is to me."

The man turned to Claire, amused. "Finally you're saying something that pleases me. I'm glad we are not alike."

Claire was thankful the mask concealed her face very well, for her cheeks betrayed her embarrassment. She was not, however, too much embarrassed to retort: "You are too mean, mister, and extremely unpleasant. I'm also very glad we're not alike!"

"I am being frank. I'm not to blame if you take that as meanness."

"Oh, you might be frank alright, but you're also a dick."

"Excuse me?"

"I can be frank too! I've been talking with you for, like, five minutes and every single word that's come out of your mouth has been some sort of insult." She measured him, "I'm beginning to think you're either a very miserable person, or a dick- Or both!"

The man turned himself on the bar stool, facing Claire completely. "Of course I'm miserable. You've been on my presence since you decided to spill both of our drinks on me, and you still haven't got the clue that I do not want to converse with you. Or with anyone, for that matter."

"I did not- It was an accident, and I'm trying to make up for it!"

"And you're failing. You‘re being inconvenient."

"I'm trying to make acquaintance with you so at least we get something out of this terrible experience. Can't you see that?!"

"Fine. What is your name?"

Claire blinked in confusion at his quick acceptance. "Um… I'm Marie."

"That's a lovely name, Marie. Too bad I cannot say the same about the person bearing it. I'm Orson. We're acquainted. You can go now."

Claire did not even entertain the suggestion as she was not satisfied with her pursue yet. Besides, his words delighted her too much:

"What-? Are you like, making this up? Who names their kid Orson?"

"My mother."

Claire giggled. "She had really bad taste!"

"I'm aware."

"It's just- You're like… the first Orson I know. This is a moment to me. Were you born prior to color TV?"

"I was not, no."

"Omigosh- Wait, there's the guy who wrote Ender's Game. But he's like super old, so that doesn't help you… and the film director. Who's also old. And dead."

This seemed to catch his attention. "Film director?"

"Yeah, Welles. From Citizen Kane- My mom loves his Macbeth adaptation… I think my first memory is probably watching, um, a really bad tape of it." Claire twirled her hair, thinking. "She has this cassette she recorded from when it aired on TV once and it's like, all blurry and grainy and fading and it's ugly and you can barely hear what they're saying and, um, I don't think… you want to know about my mom."

"No. I am far more interested in you right now. Is this superficial knowledge?"

"I'm an actress."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

Orson seemed to mull on her answer. Claire took it as an opportunity to size him up, something she hadn't done until then. Although his mask covered most of his face, his mien of self-satisfaction was very apparent; his tall frame probably contributed to it, thought Claire, but something about him vexed her to the point of physicality. His raven-black hair was combed to the side, not a single strand out of place. He was, from what Claire could observe, and in the most objective terms possible, very attractive. A good specimen, she would say.

"You're not a known actress, I presume."

It offended her very much, but Claire only pressed her lips together. "I'm… rising."

This amused him. "This denotes movement. Would you say you're closer to the top or to the bottom?"

"What if I say I'm very famous? How are you supposed to know if I'm telling the truth?"

"You're simultaneously too brash and too coy about it. If you were famous, you'd be either or."

"I could be like, Nicole Kidman."

"I… highly doubt it."

"Okay! Maybe I want to confuse you. Mm? And I'm not brash."

"Oh, you are, but I agree with you on the former; you do confound me." Orson's brown eyes inspected her face. "You ruin my night and make it your mission to spoil it further. You insist on trying to socialize with me as I continue to dismiss you. Nothing I say seems to dishearten you. I must know: were you born like this?"

Claire made a moue. "I ruined your night…? Do you promise?"

"This is amensalism. You're not even getting anything out of this."

"I'm getting plenty."

"Why are you here?"

"Um… because I followed you?"

Orson frowns. "Don't be cute. I want to know why you are attending this charity event."

"It's Miami! Men here are loaded and famous... and they can be generous to more than one cause!" She smiles, touching his arm. "Are you feeling any generous?"

"No."

"It was a funny bit. You could've laughed."

"I didn't find it funny."

Claire rolls her eyes. "Figures."

He didn't say anything after that, and neither did Claire. Orson didn't seem bothered by the silence, but his staring unnerved her; she fidgeted with her still-dampen gloves and looked elsewhere. Why was this man so immune to her charms? Claire could not understand how it took him so little effort to brush her off.

"I, um… I came with a friend," Claire retried after a moment. Orson tilted his head to the side, listening. "She wanted to meet this fashion designer… Barbra… something something.

"Tremblay-Leblond."

"You know her?"

He hummed. "When I attend an event, I tend to make a point of remembering the hostess' name."

"Oh. Was this a faux-pas?"

Orson took a few seconds to process her words, but he snorted when he did. "Please, tell me what you've done that has not been a faux-pas."

"Well- I'll let you know your etiquette hasn't been the best either!" she squeaked as her cheeks colored. "Asking this many questions is like, totally impolite. You keep probing me but you haven't shared anything about yourself!"

"You haven't asked me anything."

"Why are you here?"

"It's charity. I care deeply for the arts."

"That's it?"

"Should it be something else?"

"You just don't look like an art guy. You look, like, sad and miserable and lonely and depressed," she said, twirling a loose strand of hair. "I see no reason you'd come to this thing- You know the charity stuff is just an excuse, right?"

"It might be, for others." His gaze lingered on her finger. "I did not plan on staying for long, though."

"Did you change your mind?"

"It'd be discourteous to leave you here by yourself."

"Funny, because you were very eager to send me away just a few minutes ago!"

"Send you away, yes. Not leave you unaccompanied. And that was before we made acquaintance."

Claire could not keep in her smile. "You are all politeness. Gnarly!"

"And you're too content. I'm still trying to figure out a way to get rid of you."

"I'm very persistent."

"I can tell." He considers her. "Can I bore you with conversation?"

"You want to talk now?"

"I'm willing if it runs you off."

"Ooooh. Okay! I'm an adept speaker, you see. I can like, totally talk about anything, for any length of time," Claire nods, agreeing with herself. "Give me a topic and I'll give you an opinion."

"You have an opinion about every topic there is?"

"Yes. And if I don't, I'll form one on the spot."

"Is that how you go on about life?"

"Well, of course. You have to know where you stand on things."

"Even when you have insufficient information?"

"You always have information. Something, I mean. You can't ever be truly neutral, I think."

Orson thought about her words for a moment. "I don't completely disagree with you. Although I prefer to be more… deliberate with my opinions."

"As if! You can't actually believe that- You barely know me and you think a lot about me."

"Oh, you give me a lot to think about with very little."

She dismisses him with her hand. "Adds to my point. Could you be neutral about me?"

"I don't think that's possible, no."

Claire grinned, satisfied. When the dancing recommenced on the floor in front of them, she couldn't help but pay attention to the couples waltzing. Claire twirled her hair, coming up with an idea.

"Do you dance, Orson?"

"I can dance, yes. I try to avoid it."

"Aw… Come on, don't be like that. That's the whole point of a ball! It'd be soooo rude not to pay it the compliment of a dance once."

"I suppose so. I am willing to be rude, though," he told her. "We already went over how this is a masquerade. People won't know who, exactly, is not adhering to a social rule."

"Yeah… but it's still a gaffe with me," Claire pouted. She then leaned forward, "You may dislike dancing, but I know you'll find me very pleasant as a partner!"

"I wouldn't be so unlucky. To find you pleasant would hinder my plans of driving you away. Don't wish me such an evil."

"I'm wishing you all the evil, and more."

"I have a suspicion you're not one to only wish for things, Marie."

Claire inspected Orson for a moment, her eyes traveling over his figure. He still fidgeted with his handkerchief, his mind elsewhere. Something about him was profoundly intriguing to Claire; by his own admission he had no issue rejecting her, yet he seemed to get some gratification by her insistence. Masochism was no foreign concept to her, though concealing it under the guise of decorum was a phenomenon he seemed to have mastered.

Deep down in her viscera Claire could feel her desperation. The man by her side invoked indignation in her to the likes she'd never felt; why was he so opposed to the mere idea of Claire? It was impossible he did not fancy her as affable in the slightest. Claire was certain she had a perfect resemblance of her character in her mind, and she was very sure of her likability. Not only was she totally privileged in her appearance, with her golden mane and her heart shaped lips, but she was also aware of her cheerful and unpretentious disposition.

Claire settled on the opinion this must have been indicative of his own insecurities. For a man to desire to isolate himself in that way, even in the presence of a woman of her degree, he had to fear vulnerability. And, God, the lack of humility to be in this position! To snob other people when they're giving you their time, unable to overcome your shortcomings for the benefit of your partner… This upset her profoundly, and she couldn't help but confront him about it:

"I think you're totally afraid."

Orson furrowed his eyebrows. "Afraid of what?"

"Of, like, liking me."

"Don't think so highly of yourself."

She giggled. "Why? Am I not up to par to your thoughts?"

"It's not a concern I have at all. Finding you likable would be a surprise, but it wouldn't mean a thing," he said, folding his handkerchief. Orson pocketed it. "I'd still want you very far from myself."

"Oh, don't inhibit yourself like this."

"I'm inhibiting you. You look as if entropy was a person. I don't need that."

Claire tilted her head to the side, her curtain bangs falling over her face. "I already said I'm sorry. And I've been so nice."

"I would argue against that last point."

"Awesome! Do argue with me- Prove me wrong. If you're not afraid of liking me just a little bit, then dance with me."

He looked annoyed. "You sound like a child."

"And you are afraid!" Claire grinned big. "Frightened! Terrified!"

It was Orson's turn to consider her. After a heavy sigh, he slipped of his bar stool to claim her hand. With feigned coyness, Claire let herself be led to the crowded dance floor.

"Your gloves are still… damp."

She purred, "would you like me to take them off?"

"No."

"Why? Would that be too scandalous?"

"Once again; please, tell what you have done so far that hasn't been scandalous."

Claire beamed with his irked tone of voice. As Orson guided her through the steps, silence fell over them. Soon she started feeling restless; he didn't seem interested in speaking one word, all the while Claire was bubbling with remarks. For her, to stand face to face with a person for the entire duration of a dance and not chat about anything was akin to torture!

As they orbited their neighbors, Claire's bugs bit her insides. His gaze made her uncomfortable. She almost resigned herself into maintaining the quietude until she realized it would cause him greater distress if he were obliged to talk.

"Everyone here has put so much effort into their outfits!" She pursed her lips, "though some have no sense of aesthetics! Look at that guy and his terrible, awful, ugly suit. Not even a dress coat!"

Orson hummed. "Not worse than the lady he is with."

"Her tiara is so ugly. Ew," Claire grimaced. She waited a few seconds, but did not let them fall into silence again: "It's your turn to say something now."

"Is it a habit of yours to talk while you're dancing?"

"Is it not yours?" she smiled. "Do you expect me to like, not say anything for half an hour? Are we supposed to just stare at each other while we dance?"

"I didn't expect you to be silent, no. Although I naively did hope so."

"Aw… thinking of me? That's so cute!" Claire gave his shoulder a light tap, "but when you're paired up with someone who has trouble speaking you have to like, help them a little."

"How thoughtful of you."

"I try to be! So, you see, I'm doing us both a favor here! How awkward would it be if we just stood here… minding our own businesses…"

"Do you take an issue with people ignoring you, Marie?"

"What? No." She giggled, rolling her eyes. "I just think it's weird to be with another person and just… well, not talk. You should find it weird too. Because it's a little rude. But, um, you don't seem to have a problem being rude- Why would you even ignore me, anyway? You're dancing with me because you want to."

"I am not ignoring you, clearly. You don't make it possible." Orson whirled them through the other couples, "you seem to have a need to be always present, though."

"Omigosh- Are you like, a shrink? Ewwww… please, don't be a shrink."

He have her a weak smile. "I am not."

"Oh, good. Because I dated a therapist once, and it was like… weird. Well, mostly because he was like, my therapist, so it was totally awkward because he was kinda in my head, you know," she told him. Claire then raised her eyebrows. "Not saying I'm attracted to you, or to therapists- Or like, um, that I'm not. I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"I presume it's because you have no filter. It seems to be very striking of your character, though."

She scoffed. "So much for being deliberate- You don't even know who I am!"

"No, I do not… but this is something I've been wondering about ever since you mentioned you're an actress." Orson searched her face, "something about you is familiar, almost loathsome… yet at the same time, forgive me, attractive."

Claire should have been delighted, but her mites chewed her guts at the same rate as her face reddened. She did not enjoy one bit how he was going off-script; this was way too forward for him. And so indiscreet! He was not supposed to say it! At last she had succeeded in prying a somewhat positive comment from this man, and she found herself desiring she had never done so.

"I guarantee you I'm not familiar to you!" she retorted, turning her face away from Orson. "And- Do you only look at people to criticize them!?"

"No. You just happen to be so unabashedly unreserved that it makes it very easy to point out your failings."

"I can also point out your failings very well." She frowns, "you're so self-satisfied you think you're like, above every single person you come in contact with- That they're not good enough to even talk to you. Your fault is that you hate everybody!"

"And yours is to believe you know everything about the world around you, to the point you naively misrepresent what you can't comprehend."

"Oh, please. Tell me, which part of your person have I misrepresented? Are you not arrogant? Acting as if you've known me for years, pointing fingers at me like you have the facts- Like you have the right! Is this not arrogance!?"

They both fell into silence again, as Orson did nothing other than press his lips together and Claire said no more. Their exchange made her so incensed she found it difficult to cross her steps for the first time that night. As she struggled to keep up with the tempo, Orson dropped his hand at her waist and she thought he was finally done with her; instead, Claire was twirled around before safely returning to his arms.

"I apologize," said Orson afterwards, earning a confused expression from Claire. "You are correct in saying I do not know you. I can't make such grave assumptions from what you choose to show me when I'm not being very agreeable to you."

She shifts her gaze, chin high. "Well, um- I guess I appreciate that."

"I would like to blame my behavior on my 40-hour week schedule, but that wouldn't be accurate."

"Oh. You work full-time? Do you have health insurance…?"

"No, only five classes per semester and a migraine every Friday."

This was extremely humorous to Claire. "You're a teacher?"

"A professor."

"Omigosh, you have a title. I am so sorry, professor."

"Don't."

Claire laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. "What's an university professor doing at this type of event? Shouldn't you, be, like, doing some lame stuff, like, umm… grading? How'd you even afford the tux?"

"It offends me deeply that you believe I cannot afford a dress suit," he said, almost good-mannered. Orson brought her closer. "As for you, since we've already established you're not a well known actress-"

"We have not established that."

"-I can only assume you have other means of affording your gown?"

"Why are you speculating on my pedigree?"

He smiled despite himself. "I said nothing of that."

"Well, um, yeah- I'm, um, a heiress." She giggles. "Yeah. I'm a heiress. My father is… Um- Daddy is, like, loaded."

"This was the performance of a lifetime."

"I'm so glad you enjoyed it. It was my mission tonight to please you."

"Very well. You just did."

This, for Claire, was like gene mapping for the first time. She grinned, petting his shoulder, and Orson looked thrown off by it.

"What kind of stupid university do you teach at that you have no benefits, though? Are you not tenured?"

"Why are you so interested in my benefits?"

"Um… just making sure you're not being exploited."

"You are so kind."

Claire laughed, then covered her mouth with her free hand. Orson smiled at first, but winced when the music changed. He pulled Claire to the side.

"That's enough."

"What?" Claire tugged on his arm, "it's a group dance now, it's going to be fun!"

"Clearly, we have different conceptions of 'fun'," Orson said. He looked to his side, assessing the dance floor. "I have no interest in dancing with someone I'm not acquainted with, which is to say I feel no desire to leave your side."

"You're like, such a loser. There's something very wrong with you."

"Thank you." He nodded. "I appreciate this coming from you. You would know."

"Um... excuse me?"

Orson smiled, but didn't reply. Instead, he took her hand and led her out of the dance floor and away from the commotion. Once again, she let him guide her and once again, Claire was perturbed by his touch. It was such a harmless act, yet it appeared so out of protocol her first reaction would've been to recoil and push him away had she been wearing no gloves.

As Orson walked them both out onto the silence of a private balcony, Claire leaned against the balustrade. The waves crashed on the beach below and she watched as a small crowd gathered for the fireworks exhibition. The weather was much more agreeable at that point of the night than it had been earlier.

"I'm a biologist," Claire blurted, breaking the silence. Orson turned to face her. "Um- Well, I have an undergrad in biology. I've never… worked in the field."

"Not a heiress?"

She rolled her eyes. "My dad doesn't talk to me."

"Very unfortunate for him."

"It's fine, though. I don't care." She shook her head and smiled, "I've always wanted to act, anyway. So I came back to Los Angeles."

"Have I seen you in anything?"

"Not yet. But you will."

Orson leaned against the railing as well. He stared at his hands for a moment.

"Must I share something about myself now?"

"Well, I'm not going to say no."

He gave it some thought. "I used to be a film director."

"Ohmigosh, really? This is so- I knew we had crossed paths for a reason. See?" She smiled and gave his arm a few happy taps, "I'm actress and you're a director. Verb tenses can change very easily, don't worry."

"I fear it's not that simple."

"Are you, like, famous? No, used to- Are you good? Oh, forget it, you wouldn't give me a negative." Claire waved him away. She did not let Orson reply to her, as she already had a planned line of inquiry: "Have you ever won something? How many films have you made? Are you like, recognizable-!? Hold on, let me think a little!"

Orson allowed her to muse for some time, with her index finger over her moue and her eyes squinted in concentration. Claire tried piecing together all the information she had learnt about him that night, but he could be any person in the county. She let out a frustrated sigh. "Okay, this is harder than I thought it'd be."

"I'm unsure if I should feel very offended, or very relieved."

"I'm bad at guessing games" Claire scanned him. "Oh- Wait-!"

She reached for his left hand, which caught Orson by surprise: "What are you doing?"

"I'm checking if you were smart enough to pocket the ring."

"I am not married."

"That's what they all say."

"I can assure you I am not married. It's not something I have ever given thought to."

"Seriously? This is embarrassing… Okay, so, here's a piece of advice." Claire gave his chest a tap. "You should get married and then like, get divorced. As soon as possible."

Orson frowned. "Why would I do that?"

"Um… first, because divorce is chic, but also- You have like, this strong divorced guy with kids energy," she rolls her eyes, gesturing at his entire being. "I keep thinking you're going to slip up at any moment and mention your ex-wife or tell me your children are at grandma's."

He tucked a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear. "You must have a talent in misunderstanding everything around you. It's… charming."

Claire grins. "Is it now?"

"Your overconfidence in… everything makes you annoying and naive, though it endears you very much."

"Are you unable to compliment people without insulting them first?"

"It's not an insult. It's the truth."

"Do I get to tell you a truth, too?"

"Did you not tell the truth at any point this evening?"

Claire smiles. "No."

"You have a lovely smile."

"Are you saying this because you mean it or because you're trying to be nice and my smile is like, the only thing you can see of my face?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

"In that case… thanks."

They retreated into silence once more. Claire could recognize, though, it was not any kind of silence; unlike the other occasions they stood without speaking, this one was tinted in expectation. Every subject she could think of seemed extremely inappropriate. Claire lowered her chin to her chest, her nerves overwhelming her.

The man in front of her appeared as uncomfortable as her, if not more. With his hands behind his back, his stiffness of manner was more obvious than ever. Orson's eyes did not wander away from her face and Claire could only suffer from anticipation. Besides, of course, wish she could turn around and run away from him. That would be uncivil.

If thoughts of incivility preoccupied Claire, then they overburdened Orson; and in no time she was made aware of it as she was in his arms, and his lips were upon hers. Soon, Claire's hands were on his lapels, and Orson's were on her hair, and her waist, and all over her.

Navigating propriety had always been a prelude. Claire tiptoed until she felt herself bump against the balustrade behind her. She gasped, her fingers trailing from his shoulder to his nape. Fireworks exploded in the distance and her heartbeat mimicked every single blow as their masks got in the way.

"Okay." Claire giggled out her words when he pulled away. She caught her breath, "that was like, a 76."

Orson searched her face, in an attempt to make sense of it. When he did, he frowned, "are you rating my kiss?"

"I rate all of my experiences."

"This makes me… deeply uncomfortable- A C?"

"Ewwww. Do you have those memorized? Freak!" Claire rolls her eyes, not letting him protest, "anyway- I have like, very high standards."

"I must not judge my own performance, but, surely, it's worth more than a 76."

"I just know you're not living up to your full potential, you know."

Orson looked very annoyed, but, to her surprise, humored her; he tilted her chin up and kissed her again. Claire smiled:

"Mmm… I'm giving this one an 82."

"How does your system work? What metrics are you using here?"

"Uhhh… like… lots."

"This seems dubious. I'm led to believe you're intentionally low-scoring me."

"Don't worry. It will be peer reviewed. Later."

This amused him very much, and even earned her a chuckle. Orson cupped her cheeks with both hands before leaning down once more. Claire was not expecting the kiss to be so sweet and she couldn't contain the giggles escaping her. The light ocean breeze was welcome, but it did nothing to assuage the warmth spreading through her body.

When he pulled away, Claire smiled. Her hands reached his wrists as she considered him. "This was nice."

“Nice?”

“What?”

"I want a number."

"Omigosh! I don't work well under pressure."

"And you're in Hollywood?"

"Unrelated. How's this: I still think you can do better, Prof."

Claire prided herself in her social competence. She believed herself to be sensible of people's inner thoughts, but the way Orson's smile dropped off his face was floundering to her. In seconds, he seemed to go through confusion, hurt and disgust until he set on scowling. Had she said something terribly insulting in trying to be funny? Was she too repetitive?

Before Claire could ask him what had happened, Orson reached for her mask. He tried to untie the knot on the back of her head as Claire laughed awkwardly, pushing his hand away. "Hey- No! It's going to like, ruin the fun!"

Orson didn't comply. Once her mask was off, he paralyzed. He searched her face, his eyebrows furrowed; not in confusion or anger this time, but what appeared to Claire as panic, perplexity, a breakdown of order. Discomposed under his gaze, she brushed her bangs to the side.

"Oh, come on." Claire avoided looking up, abashed. "I know I'm not bad looking."

"Claribel."

It was her turn to twist her face in bewilderment. Not once that evening had Claire even come close to sharing with him her nickname, much less her legal name.

"What?"

The sheer horror of Orson yanking his mask off was enough to make Claire stumble a few steps back. In front of her, with lips smudged with her red lipstick, stood Professor Thomas Hunt.

"What?!"

Claire could only turn around, her hands going straight to her face. Her body's involuntary reaction was to flex down in disgust. Her stomach churned. Oh, her bugs wanted out. And they wanted out now.

With everything she had, she forced her feelings down her throat. Speechless, she faced him once again. Claire covered her mouth, her eyes trailing his visage. "Oh my God- Oh my God!"

He frowned. "Stop with this, Claribel. I'm not falling for it. You must've known it was me."

"Wha- Oh please-! Are you delusional!? With a mask on you look like half of the guys in Los Angeles. You're the most generic looking man ever!"

"You-"

"And you're not that special! But you- You must've known it was me!" She approached him again, finger outstretched. "With your- Your meddling and asking questions and being oh-so-interested in me!"

Hunt scoffed. "Had I even suspected it was you behind that mask I would've walked away from you without a second thought."

"You speak as if I have acted any different tonight than I usually do! You were putting on an act, I wasn't!"

"Putting on an act? I was merely trying to be polite in face of your incessant pestering. It's not my fault if you cannot discern between that and not being genuine."

"You are not polite! That's not a word that even exists to you! You like putting people down and telling them to their face they are worthless- You were making an effort- You wanted to confuse me!"

"Are you listening to yourself?! Can't you see how absurd is this argument you're making?!" He scowls, "I have no interest in being involved with you in any form, Claribel- I do not wish to, and I cannot. You are not sound of mind if you believe otherwise."

"I know you at least suspected it was me! How could you not?! I said- I said so much about myself. I know you put everything together!"

"Do you think I care about you? Do you think I waste any second of my time giving you as much as a fleeting thought?" Hunt's face twisted in contempt, "you do not exist to me, Claribel."

Claire gasped. "Don't be under the impression I want you to- God-! You're the last man on Earth I wanted to have spent tonight with!"

"Very good. I'm glad we can agree on this." He squints, "this is not something that should have happened. This was a mistake. A line that should not have been crossed."

"Are you like, reassuring yourself? Or just stating the obvious?!"

"The latter. As you've shown me tonight and in many other occasions, I can't ever expect you to act rationally or follow any common sense. I have to spell out the obvious to you since you appear to be very fond of misconstructions."

"Are you calling me dumb?"

With a voice of forced calmness, Hunt said: "No. You are not dumb, Claribel. Far from it. You're too smart for your own good. You're blind to what makes you an unpleasant person to be around. You're disrespectful, insolent, and frustrating. So I want to be very clear with you, so you do not make up any fantasies in your mind: I dislike you, and I despise you."

Claire wouldn't be able to explain why his words affected her so much, but they did. As much as she tried to ignore the tightness in her chest, the burning sensation spread over to her face and ears.

"Well, Professor, I'd like to offer you a piece of my mind as well." Claire put on a scorn, getting closer to him. Through gritted teeth, she spoke: "From very moment I met you, I was certain you were the most arrogant, offensive and conceited man I'd ever had the displeasure to know. You have no regard to others, you are patronizing and you- You make me sick. I hate everything about you. The world is worse with you in it."

The silence in the balcony was only broken by the waves crashing on the beach below and the distant chatter of the other guests. Neither Claire nor Hunt seemed interested in breaking eye contact, their bodies inches apart. She tried controlling her breathing, but her anger only grew by the moment.

"Very well. I appreciate your sincerity, Miss Swanson. I can only hope I'm never in a situation again where I'm forced to hear it."

And with that, Hunt turned around and walked away with no hesitation. Claire watched him re-enter the building as her legs wobbled. Once she was sure she was alone, she could only indulge in the tumult of her mind; Claire leaned against the balustrade once more and shattered into tears.

For half-an-hour or so, that was the only activity she was capable of partaking in. The dread at any attempt at making sense of anything made her spiral into more desperation, and along came more tears. All of his words were terribly hurtful, but even more so was the bitterness of the situation she was in. What even were the odds of this even happening!?

After a few more minutes so she could recompose herself, Claire decided she could not stay there the entire night. Slipping on her mask again, she marched back inside the building, resolute in finding Addison and leaving that place, and that night, forever behind.

[jupiitersreturn]

Astrocartography Observations Part Two: Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto.

(Disclaimer: A lot of Astrologers use different orbs of measurements for Astrocartography. My limit is 200 km because I have seen lines that have influences up to that point, and depending on the planet, sometimes more.)

Planets:

Sun: Fame, Happiness, Vitality, Children.

Moon: Home, Roots, Family, Nostalgia.

Venus: Love, Beauty, Luxury, Desires.

Mercury: Lower Education, Communication, Knowledge, Friendships.

Mars: Passions, Action, Pain, Anger.

Jupiter: Luck, Higher Education, Religion, Beliefs.

Saturn: Karma, Restrictions, Discipline, Commitments, Delays

Uranus: Unpredictability, Innovation, Rebellion, Technology, Humanitarian ideals

Neptune: Illusions, Dreams, Spirituality, Intuition, Fame, Popularity.

Pluto: Destruction, Transformations, Deaths and Rebirths.

Where your Pluto lines are running through are places where you could experience the most profound transformations in your life. Places where you can discover more about yourself thus leading to enlightenment. However, being at these lines does not come without a price. Many fundamental teachings of Pluto will be present here (Death, Rebirth, Destruction, etc.) I'd also like to add that when Pluto takes, it always gives something else in return.

☆ Aaliyah Haughton has her Pluto MC line running through Los Angeles. Robert Sylvester Kelly was her executive producer at the time she released her 1994 debut album "Age Ain't Nothing But A Number". It was then that the rumors began to circulate that 15 year old Aaliyah had married her then 27 year old executive producer who named her album and became the driving influence in her success and her music career. Los Angeles (Hollywood) = Fame, MC = Career, Pluto = Transformations.

☆ Ryan Reynolds has his Pluto AS line running through Brazil where he was almost crushed by a falling barrier during a fan event due to it being overcrowded with people. Interestingly enough, Reynolds has his Mercury MC line (which rules groups of people as well as social events) squaring this line. AS = You, Pluto = Destruction.

☆ Blake Lively has her Pluto IC line running through Los Angeles where she was raised. Blake Lively secure her first real movie role (that just so happened to become a huge hit) after her older brother called a casting director and asked them to hire Lively who had already had a ton of experience with acting, having a talent scout mother and director father. Pluto = Transformations, IC = Family, Home, Roots.

Where your Saturn lines are running through are places where you could experience or be subject to delays and restrictions. I've also noticed that where these lines cross are places where you could make serious commitments and decisions; good or bad.

☆ David Beckham has his Saturn DC line running through Toronto. After injuring his ankle, Beckham made the decision to sit out what according to MLS Soccer, "would've been Beckham's first official league game, shown to a national TV audience on ESPN2 and played in a stadium full of Toronto fans that are already considered the most rabid in the league."

☆ Blake Lively has her Saturn IC line running through South Carolina which is where she married Ryan Reynolds. Saturn = Commitments, IC = Home, Family, Foundations.

☆ Catherine Zeta Jones has her Saturn DC line running through New York which is where she married Michael Douglas. Saturn = Commitment, DC = Partnerships, Relationships.

☆ Selena Quintanilla's Saturn IC line runs through Mexico and she is Mexican. Although she became the biggest Mexican-American music artist in her 20's, when she was younger she had no connection to her Mexican ancestry (IC). She had to learn about her ancestry, AND learn Spanish before she was able to be labeled a Mexican American music artist. (Saturn represents restrictions and delays).

Where your Neptune lines are running through are places where you could experience or be subject to idolization, and extreme popularity or fame. Having it running through the United States can signify global fame.

☆ Gigi Hadid has her Neptune MC line running through Los Angeles where she gained fame from being a model.

☆ Kendall Jenner has her Neptune MC line running through the middle of the United States and she is famous for not only modeling, but being a social media influencer, as well as being a member of one of the most popular families in America; The Kardashian-Jenners.

☆ Ariana Grande has her Neptune MC line running through the United Kingdom which is one of her top countries in terms of popularity.

☆ Elvis Presley has his Neptune MC line running through America. He has a global amount of fame from being a famous musician, with America being his strongest country with the most listeners. Additionally, he also has his Neptune DC line running through London which is his second strongest country in terms of streams and listeners.

☆ Twice's Mina has her Neptune IC running through Japan which is her hometown as well as the location of her biggest fan base.

Where your Uranus lines run through are placed where you could be part of or cause a major change,places where you experience unpredictable and shocking situations. It can also represent places where you can take up Humanitarian beliefs and concepts.

☆ Tom Hanks has his Uranus MC line running through North Carolina. During the pandemic a small bookstore was in danger of shutting down permanently due to the lack of business. After Tom Hanks gave the store a shoutout on "The Late Show" and a million dollar ad was given to the store, business for the bookstore skyrocketed and they were able to stay open at least through the summer.

☆ Ariana Grande has her Uranus MC line to the East of Manchester where there was, sadly, an unexpected fatal incident during one of her concerts. Interestingly enough, she also has her Chiron AC line squaring this line.

☆ Bella Hadid has her Uranus AS line running through India. In 2022 she slammed India for their blatant Islamophobia regarding the hijab row. She went on to say that she stands in solidarity with Muslim women.

[notearsnora]

THE JOURNEY THROUGH OZ TOUR:

The first WICKED red carpet premiere will take place in SYDNEY, Australia in exactly 2 weeks on November 3rd. The Sydney State Theatre will be transformed into Munchkinland for the event.

The LOS ANGELES premiere will take place in the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion on November 9th. The venue will be transformed into Shiz University.

The MEXICO CITY premiere will take place in the National Auditorium on November 11th. It will be transformed into the enchanted forest.

The NEW YORK premiere will take place in the Museum of Modern Art on November 14th. It will be transformed into the Ozdust Ballroom.

The LONDON premiere will take place in the Royal Festival Hall on November 18th and it will be transformed into The Emerald City.

[eternaltae7]

The Grammys

Fox of BTS | BTS 8th Member

The noise of Los Angeles bustling outside her window. She stretched and took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Today was the day. The Grammys. She lay there for a moment, trying to take it all in. It wasn’t long before her phone buzzed with messages—first from ARMYs, then from the other members, filling their group chat with jokes, emojis, and excitement about the big day.

The BTS suite was a hub of activity. Stylists, makeup artists, and managers buzzed around the room, preparing everyone for the red carpet and their upcoming performance of “Butter.” The members were scattered around—Jin was getting his makeup done while he scrolled through his phone, Hobi was practicing his dance moves in front of a full-length mirror, and Jungkook had his headphones in, humming along to music as he mentally prepared for the day.

Hani sat in front of her mirror, trying to calm her nerves as her stylist curled her auburn hair into soft waves. Her dress—a sleek, elegant number with subtle sparkle—hung on a rack nearby. She was usually calm before big events, but this was different. This was the Grammys. It felt monumental, like everything they had worked so hard for was culminating in this moment.

“You okay?” Jimin asked, sitting beside her as his own stylist finished adjusting his tuxedo.

Hani smiled softly. “Yeah, just…you know. Grammy jitters.”

Jimin grinned. “We’ve got this. ARMY’s with us, and we’ve worked too hard to be nervous now.”

She nodded, feeling a bit reassured by his words. Jimin always knew what to say to ease the tension.

In the other room, Namjoon was going over some last-minute details with the managers, while Taehyung stood near the window, looking out at the city. Hani caught his eye, and he gave her a comforting smile. She could tell he was just as excited, though he had always been good at staying calm under pressure.

As the limo ride to the Grammys finally approached, the members gathered in the suite. Hani slipped into her dress, her nerves kicking up once again. When everyone was ready, they piled into the black SUV waiting for them outside. The ride was mostly quiet, a stark contrast to their usual loud, playful banter. Everyone was lost in their thoughts, mentally preparing for the night ahead.

As they neared the venue, Hani felt her leg bouncing uncontrollably, a habit she had when she was anxious. She didn’t even notice it until Taehyung, sitting next to her, gently placed a hand on her knee. He leaned in close, his voice soft but firm.

“Hey, I’m proud of you,” he whispered. “You’re going to be great tonight.”

She looked at him, his calm demeanor somehow grounding her. “Thanks, Tae,” she whispered back, managing a small smile. His words gave her the boost of confidence she needed, and she took a deep breath as the limo slowed to a stop.

Taehyung was the first to step out, holding the door open for her. The moment she stepped out of the car, the flashing lights of cameras hit her from all directions. The red carpet was lined with fans, reporters, and photographers, all eager to catch a glimpse of BTS. Hani was used to the limelight, but there was something about the energy of the Grammys that felt different. It was electric.

The eight of them stood together, the epitome of unity, as they posed for the cameras. Flashes went off in rapid succession, and the shouts from the press were deafening.

“BTS! Over here!” a reporter yelled, trying to get their attention.

They moved along the red carpet, stopping for brief interviews. As they approached the first reporter, Hani could feel her heart racing again, but she smiled, reminding herself to stay present.

“So, how does it feel to be performing at the Grammys tonight?” the reporter asked, her microphone extended toward them.

Namjoon, ever the spokesperson, took the lead. “It feels amazing. We’ve worked really hard for this, and to be here tonight with ARMY supporting us means everything.”

“And Hani,” the reporter turned to her, “how do you feel being the only girl in BTS, performing on such a global stage tonight?”

Hani laughed softly, shaking her head. “Honestly, I still can’t believe it. I’m just excited to share this moment with the guys and to show the world what we can do.”

The interview continued with light questions about their preparation, their expectations, and their journey so far. The group shared a few laughs, and Hani found herself relaxing more as they moved from interview to interview, their camaraderie shining through with each one.

When the red carpet ended, they were escorted inside the venue to prepare for their performance. Backstage was a whirlwind of activity—crew members rushing around, sound checks happening, and other artists preparing for their own moments on stage. BTS gathered in a small area set aside for them, going over the final details of their performance.

Hani could feel the tension building again as the moments ticked down to showtime. The performance of “Butter” was one they had perfected, but the pressure to execute it flawlessly was immense. Namjoon gave them a quick pep talk, reminding them of how far they had come, how proud he was of everyone, and how tonight was a celebration of their journey.

As the lights dimmed and the stage was set, Hani stood alongside her members, the familiar intro of “Butter” starting to play. The cheers from the crowd filled her ears as they stepped into position. The energy was palpable, and as soon as the music hit, they were off.

The choreography flowed effortlessly, their movements sharp and perfectly in sync. Hani’s heart raced as they performed, but it wasn’t from nerves anymore—it was pure adrenaline. Every step, every note, every beat felt like a culmination of years of hard work, and the crowd’s roaring applause was their reward.

As they hit their final pose, the audience erupted, and Hani couldn’t help but grin. They had done it.

Backstage afterward, the members were buzzing with excitement, high-fiving each other and laughing as the adrenaline started to wear off. Jin threw his arm around Hani’s shoulders, pulling her into a side hug.

“You crushed it out there,” he said, his voice filled with pride.

Hani smiled, leaning into him. “So did you, oppa.”

They gathered for a final group hug, soaking in the moment together. It had been a long road to get here, but standing there with her brothers, Hani knew that this was just the beginning.

Later, back at the hotel, after the buzz of the performance and the excitement of the night had died down, the group sat around, still dressed in their outfits from the night. They laughed and reminisced about the performance, the red carpet, and all the moments in between.

Namjoon raised his glass, smiling at his members. “To us. To ARMY. To making history.”

“To making history,” they echoed, clinking their glasses together, the weight of the night settling in.

Hani sat back, watching the group with fondness. Tonight, they had not only performed at the Grammys, but they had also proven, once again, that together, they could conquer anything.

[endlich-allein]

TILL LINDEMAN NORTH AMERICAN TOUR THIS FALL w/ support from TWIN TEMPLE & AESTHETIC PERFECTION

SEP 17 - San Antonio, TX - Boeing Center at Tech Port

SEP 19 - Dallas, TX - The Factory in Deep Ellum

SEP 23 - Detroit, MI – The Fillmore Detroit

SEP 25 - Silver Spring, MD – The Fillmore Silver Spring

SEP 29 - Chicago, IL – Byline Bank Aragon Ballroom

OCT 01 - New York, NY – The Rooftop at Pier 17

OCT 02 - Toronto, ON – GCT Theatre

OCT 05 - Minneapolis, MN - Myth Live

OCT 07 - Denver, CO - Mission Ballroom

OCT 12 - Phoenix, AZ - Rawhide Event Center

OCT 14 - Los Angeles, CA – The Kia Forum

Blabbermouth Presale: April 24th at 10am

Venue Presale: April 25th at 10am

General Public Presale: April 26th at 10am

Tickets & info at: till-lindemann.com

[the1909losangeles]

Best Outdoor Wedding Venues in Los Angeles with Stunning Locations

Discover The 1909, one of the most enchanting outdoor wedding venues in Los Angeles. Located in the picturesque Topanga Canyon, this venue offers a stunning natural backdrop for your special day. With lush gardens, elegant outdoor spaces, and breathtaking views, The 1909 provides a romantic and memorable setting for your dream outdoor wedding.

[professorfoglio]

Girl Genius for 8/12

This page was a bitch to draw, and that's all I'll say about that. I will say that we keep telling people how BIG Castle Wulfenbach is, but I'll admit that saying it's a kilometer long is one thing, and conveying that in my slap-happy art style is another. Thus we are defined by our failures. We'll be in L.A. this weekend! Maybe we'll get "discovered"! It could happen.

[sexyandhedonistic]

Faith (and feeling) is the secret: A small success story and what you can learn from it.

Hello, my loves. It’s been a while since I’ve made any sort of post on this blog. Today I’m going to be bringing you one of my many success stories. As someone who’s very private, I’m always skeptical about talking about any of them as they tend to be quite personal and oftentimes require me to disclose details to provide context. Even in this one, I’ll be keeping it occasionally vague and change a few insignificant details to preserve that privacy. Nevertheless, I feel good about sharing this one because I remember drawing so many comparisons and turning to a lot of what Neville himself said in his lectures and I applied what I’ve learned from beginning to end. Anyway, let’s get to the story:

This happened some time ago, it doesn’t really matter when but I had found out that a favorite artist of mine was having a concert after tickets had started going on sale. The concert was in one of my favorite cities which was a bit of distance from me so I was open to going, but not particularly compelled to. When I first heard about it, I looked up how much of the seating was occupied just to have an idea of how popular this concert was. 

I couldn’t even see the seating chart because it would halt me with a “there are no seats available at this time”. Knowing the law, if I really did want to go, what I had just read meant nothing in the slightest, so I wasn’t discouraged. I continued to check from time to time to see if anything had changed and I would bump into the same exact notice. But again, I was still open to going and what I had read held no value and my reaction was no different than if I had seen a stadium full of blue sections. It didn’t matter one bit. This went on for two months.

During that time, I found out that some of my friends were going, so now I was more interested in going as well. I hadn’t particularly assumed I would go throughout, I was always thinking of the idea rather than from it. So, although for the most part I had no solid desire to actually be there up until now, I still knew that if I wanted to, I could be. Not once through this entire time did I feel stressed nor desperate. I always had faith.

It was the month of the event and I still didn’t have seats, and then they announced a giveaway which I entered. The span to apply was approximately two weeks and they would announce a winner a week before the event. That very morning, I was still hopeful about winning. I felt good, I kept thinking about what it would be like to be in one of my favorite cities hanging out with my friends and seeing one of our favorite artists. And then I decided to induce the state akin to sleep to really place myself into that state of consciousness.

I would like to mention something very briefly here that I’m not sure whether or not I have previously brought up, but whenever I imagine during the state akin to sleep, I see it as death. What I mean by that is that I am conscious of being something I don’t want to be before I induce the SATS, and the goal should be to come out of that imaginal act conscious of being something else. That’s how you should always approach the state akin to sleep. Die to the old state and identify yourself with the new one. 

 Having already been in Los Angeles on numerous occasions, I drew the feeling from that. I recalled what the weather was like at that time of year, I remembered all of the landmarks I would pass by, I thought about how happy I would be to see my friends, how excited I would feel to see one of my favorite artists perform, and I mentally placed myself in that city. I was no longer sitting in bed within four walls miles and miles away. I was in Los Angeles. I was surrounded by the hot weather telling my friends how happy I was to see them and I heard them say it back to me. I saw the lights and the streets, I felt the butterflies of making my way to the venue and finding my seat. I took all of those feelings and really let myself sit and become fully drenched in them until I felt happy to be there. (And I remembered to think from the end and not of the end. Remember that this is key. If I simply thought about being there, it would create no shift in consciousness.) I kept focusing on that feeling, I didn’t have a particular scene in mind, I was simply focusing on the senses and the emotions of being there. I felt happy that I was able to make it, I was thinking about how glad I felt for not taking no for an answer and the memory of the present moment of me inducing the SATS was something I had done last week.

I wasn’t keeping track of the time I was in that state, but it was roughly an hour. I hadn’t slept and the sun was starting to rise when I pulled myself out. I felt satisfied with my prayer and I reminded myself that if for whatever reason I felt uncertain I could simply do the same, so I felt good. I wasn’t anxious about whether or not I had done enough because I knew praying and accepting that it was happening was all I had to do and soon enough I’d be making my way to LA. 

Then I went to sleep. The winners were to be announced in a few hours and shut my eyes assuming I would wake up to the good news. However, I didn’t win the giveaway, but I was a runner up and I was given access to purchase tickets at a heavily discounted price, which in itself was a good start to my trip to LA. I didn’t have a particular seat in mind when I saw myself there, but I did want to be close and I was (4th row from the stage). A seat that would’ve cost me about $230 went down to $60, so I snagged it. If you’re familiar with the You Are In Barbados story, this was my “Good news, Mr. Goddard” moment. It was happening.

I had my trip, I booked my flights, I prepared everything and within a week I was on my way to see so many of my favorite people in one city. I was ecstatic the entire time leading up to it and I enjoyed myself to death. The concert was on a weekend and I was back home by the time the week started. It was Tuesday and I was checking my inbox and for some reason I felt like going through my spam folder. And I came across an email that stood out to me.

It was an email from the event telling me that one of the winners hadn’t responded so I was next in line and I had won two tickets plus the opportunity to meet them. Now, I admit that I did think the giveaway was going to be the how in my story. When I induced the state akin to sleep, I didn’t visualize myself winning, I visualized myself being in LA because that was the actual end. What I most wanted was to attend the concert so that was the end I was living in. Yet, that email served as a reminder that if I really did want to meet them, I very much could have. That would’ve been the part where Abdullah would’ve told me, “Who said you are only attending? You are in Los Angeles and you met them.” If I had that desire in my heart, I would’ve remembered to remain faithful to that even after the giveaway had ended. Remember that it always comes down to persistence and brazen impudence when it comes to whatever it is that you really want. Know what you want and reject anything that isn’t it. Nothing more, nothing less.

I hope you guys enjoyed this little success story of mine and you can learn a thing or two from it. I know I’m always here providing advice to the best of my ability and this particular success story attests to the fact that I practice what I preach to you all. I’ve also told you guys before that when you all start having successes of your own, your faith in the law will only grow more and more. I speak from experience! 

So my advice to you from this story, as I always have advised:

Know what you want. Have a clear idea of your desire.

Facts aren’t important. The 3D isn’t important. 

Go straight to the end. You don’t need to become conscious of things in steps. (This is why I focused on being in LA and not on winning the giveaway.)

Have faith. Always walk by faith and not by sight.

The takeaway is to not worry about the how in the slightest, only concern yourself with what the end of your wish fulfilled looks like. It is yours if you truly want it. Focus on the end only, not anything in between. If you know circumstances don’t matter and you are limitless, that you don't need to worry about the how, the when, the why or the if, the only relevant question you should be asking yourself is the following:

Do you want it?