#Mexico are bottling it after having really good first half in both the games | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

meowdymista · 3 years

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For my first RDR2 event, I was paired with @sunspott / @polybigbang. Their art was for a playlist on spotify called Going’s All We Know, and I’ve tried to incorporate the mood of the playlist into my first impression of the art.

You can read my submission on AO3 or follow through with the read more :)

Still No Rest

Feet are itching again, plus it ain't like we can stick around much longer. Going is all we know, even if we ain't got nowhere else left.

Things had been too steady of late. They had been too safe, had slipped away far too easily, had pulled moneybags out of places that should have fought back but hadn't even batted an eye.

Arthur pushes back his hair, greasy and long, off his brow. The clouds above are smoky and dark - a storm, just as anticipated.

Maybe he jumped a little too far too fast today. Maybe if he hadn't been so on edge waiting for something to go wrong, they could have deescalated the situation. Maybe lives could have been spared, but it’s not like the guilt isn’t scratching the ridges of his brain like a dusty gramophone needle.

What makes you any different? You who's always scraping for a scrap of some sort. Them trying to do the right thing and crossing your path to do it. Better you than them, right? Like Daddy always said, if they didn’t want to die they should mind their own business.

A new start: isn't that what they had promised themselves? A new state, a new town, a new camp: a clean slate that he had managed to bloody in a record three days.

Every bullet that screamed past his ear left his bones ringing with that too familiar dull tired ache. Every blade that snagged his clothes instead of his skin embittered him. The tiniest of voices hummed with the thought that maybe, maybe, he should fight that craving for carelessness and even tell someone about it… but the beast he’s become scowls and reminds him with a low growl that then they would stop him. They would take him off the front line, teach the gangly adolescent John - who is a far worse shot - to replace him.

It's not even jealousy really, he reasons as he slips his journal away and stretches into a stand. They need him. Need his gun, his eye, his blade. Worrying them isn’t an option, especially right now. He doesn’t need to make them doubt his reliability, or question whether they’ve misplaced their trust. He knew in his heart that if anyone in the gang confessed the same, he would refuse their gun, even if he needed it - and afterwards? In the weeks, months, years to come? He would always pick someone else. Someone less vulnerable. Someone he never doubted or needed to protect.

Which is how he ended up going out with the feller Dutch had picked up when they were up North. He’s had a few too many close shaves under Hosea’s watchful eye of late as he struggled to conceal the beast's rearing head. The old man was onto him, his brown eyes still boring into him, even after Copper found his way to him.

Bill, on the other hand, is always game for a ruckus. He has as much of a temper as he does, and can match him drink for drink. Some of the stories he lets slip prickle him - like the beast recognising a party equal, a fellow host. He says nothing. Doesn't validate them, doesn't acknowledge them or aim to empathise, he just accepts the added weight of tar and grudges home with another bottle.

“Arthur?”

"M'tired," grunts Arthur, walking past Hosea, boots scuffing the dry red earth beneath them. “Besides, you know how it is. Sometimes bullets fly no matter what you do.”

Hosea doesn’t dignify his excuse with a response, and despite the poker face, Arthur can feel the guilt twist a little tighter in his gut as he sets about washing his arms and face in the barrel by the food reserves. He knows nothing good would come from trying to explain the truth of the situation... How a glimpse of a little boy in his peripherals is as sure a sign of upcoming thunder as lightning flashing in the distance. His not-brown-not-blond tussle of hair brushing the wind with fat drops of rain… rain that never came, leaving Arthur to water the ground with blood, like somehow it could make him feel less like he’s drowning in the driest desert outside of New Mexico.

He pats his pockets for the cigarette he had rolled earlier, until, retracing his steps mentally, he sighs in disappointment. He had been about to light it when it all kicked off. Or rather… it had been in his mouth whilst he tried to align yet another match to the tobacco when he had caught the eye of another patron and decided to swap the nicotine for some adrenaline.

His fondness for Bill always grew at moments like this. Bastard heard one cross word and his guns were out before he found his balance.

Deflated, he uncaps a beer instead, emptying it, tossing it aside and grabbing another, before spotting the girl devouring a bowl of stew a stone's throw away.

"Who's she?" he asks before Hosea can try to raise the day’s events.

"Your new ward."

Arthur stops, scoffing, growing angry when the elder doesn’t back down. "Nuh uh! No way! I just got rid of Johnny! Get Williamson to do it!"

"You'd trust him with her?"

"Sure! Why not?" He glances back at the girl despite himself. His index finger is itching again. "Or get Marston on it. Ain't like he's doing much else."

"John is still learning how to take care of himself, and Bill…"

"He ain't gonna beat up a little girl." Restless, his feet shuffle beneath him, his beer swapping hands before touching his lips again. "And ain't like he's gonna have interest in her."

"You think he wouldn't do it just to prove a point?" Their eyes meet briefly before Arthur's gaze drops. "People who are insecure are far more dangerous than those comfortable in themselves, never forget that Arthur. Besides, I'd rather not expose her to the prejudices she can get any day of the week. She ought to feel safe here, don't you think?"

He finishes the dregs and tosses the bottle, preferring to change the subject than admit he’s right. "Where’d she come from? She got any family?"

"She left her cousin back east. Came this way looking for her mother but she’d passed meanwhile."

"So… what’s the plan? We taking her back east?"

"Sure as shit you ain't!"

The girl has stepped around the table, legs planted apart, hands folded across her flat chest, her hair as free and untamed as her temperament. She is glaring something fierce, making the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end in a fight or flight instinct.

Hosea chuckles softly, eyes bright with pride. "I reckon she's one of us now."

"Well, does she have a name?" asks Arthur, incredulous.

"Jackson." She jerks her heart shaped face in a defensive greeting. "My name is Tilly Jackson."

"Well, Miss Tilly Jackson, you always so fierce?" He stalks the couple of steps to the nearest crate of whiskey and pulls one free.

"You always this stupid?"

"Hey now, Miss Jackson," interrupts Hosea before Arthur can bark. "We don't talk to each other like that here."

"He started it!"

"And you’re sitting with Mrs Matthews when you’re done so she can keep an eye on you!” He ushers her towards Bessie to keep her out of harm's way before turning back to his first product of adoption with a raised brow.

"You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

"Try coming back just half soaked some time. Might make them go easier on you."

Arthur scoffs, his rebuttal dying in his throat. He dampens the ash with another swig.

"I want you to take her with you when you go out."

His scoff is solid. "No way."

Hosea straightens up, watching him, using his body language to ask the questions.

"I ain't taking her out. You want her shot?"

"You intend to shoot her?"

"No, course not-"

"Then what's the problem?"

Arthur's eyes roll in exasperation, his finger flexing around the neck of the bottle like it's a button that will win the argument if he squeezes tight enough. "The problem is other people shooting at us."

"You intend to get shot at?"

"No, but-"

"Then I see no problem."

"That don't mean we ain't gonna get shot at!"

"Why would you get shot at?"

'Cause that's what I set out to do most days, he wants to counter. And if I ain't likely to get shot, I'm likely in jail or black out drunk in a saloon someplace.

Instead he closes his mouth, any excuse dead before it passes his lips.

"I'm not asking you to take her with you to rob a bank, Arthur." Hosea's tone is firm but still soft - a talent of his. "But while you're out looking for leads, or even looting a homestead or something… She's nifty."

"Hosea, I-" He trails off, distracted by the clip of notes Hosea is picking through, and downright thrown when he passes him the thinned out clip. "What's this for? I gettin' paid to be a nanny now?"

“This-” Hosea holds up a couple of notes before putting them in his pocket. “-is for arguing with me. This is for the box, as it seems you’ve forgotten to pay the camp's share, and this-" He casually holds out the last few dollars to the side like he’s ashing a cigarette. A small brown hand slips it away as both Hosea and little Miss Tilly regard him smugly. "Is for a mark well scammed."

"You mean-?" He checks his pockets, ears growing hot. "You son of a-"

“Ah-ah! Language!” Dutch swaggers up with a smirk like he has been watching the introduction unfold in its entirety. “C’mon, Arthur, you have to give it to her. She’s talented!”

“Might finally have picked up a smart one, eh, Dutch?” winks Hosea. Arthur scowls and turns on his heel, leaving them laughing and praising their newest addition.

****

Arthur remains cool and calm the next few days, hunting local and sticking close to camp. Every time he approaches his horse, the little girl is waiting, watching him with her fierce brown eyes.

"Where we goin', Mr Arthur?" She asks as soon as he's within earshot. "Do I need anything bringing?"

Every time he offers to pay double what Hosea has offered her, and every time she refuses to discuss the terms of their negotiation. Every time he curses everything under his breath, keeping his language savoury for the child nearby. Every time he scowls, and every time he gives her a grunt of "naw, we ain't going far" before mounting up and lifting her onto the rear.

"I can ride myself, ya know?" She shoots one morning as Arthur leads his stead into a trot away from camp, heading towards the softer, greener terrain that’s barely visible on the horizon. "Properly. Not side saddle."

"Good for you."

"If I had a horse I would show you."

"And run off with the money we got, huh."

She bristles. "I ain't no snitch."

"Sounds like somethin' a snitch would say." He pops the cork from a half full bottle of rum and takes a swig. Replacing the bottle, he notices her scrunching her nose in disdain. “Got a problem? I can take you back to camp.”

“You sure don’t drink much water,” she comments drily. “You ain’t worried ‘bout heatstroke out here?”

“Liquor’s hydrating,” he scowls, pushing the horse into a canter.

“Pretty sure it ain’t, but you do you. Besides, I got dibs on your things. We all gotta start somewhere, right?”

Arthur snorts angrily, adrenaline prickling the hairs on the back of his neck. “You sure as hell do not, princess. I ain’t going nowhere!”

Miss Jackson hums sarcastically. “Sure you ain’t. You don’t eat, don’t drink anything under forty proof, don’t talk to no one-”

“If you don’t like it, I can drop you right here!”

“Go ahead.” Her tone is defiant, but it doesn’t escape his notice that she grips his sides a little tighter. “Mr Matthews was pretty explicit about what he’d do to you if you tried.”

He stews the next mile or more, not speaking up until he finally dismounts for a break at the change of terrain.

Wide open spaces always helped to ground him, even though it could make vanishing into thin air difficult. To some extent, it forced him to not be so careless. In others, it made it easier to kid himself that he had never crossed the threshold into civilisation, let alone crossed a kind faced waitress.

Listening out for creeping cougars and restless rattlesnakes, he crouches down by the water’s side and splashes his face, washing off the worst of the sweat and dust that’s caked itself into every pore available. The girl makes no move to dismount, so he takes it upon himself to refill her canteen as a gesture of goodwill.

“You don’t got to stick to us, you know.” She turns her big brown eyes from the sky onto Arthur’s face. He shuffles his feet awkwardly, focusing his attention on brushing out the biggest clumps of dust from the horse’s mane before they continue. “If you need me to take you somewhere-”

“And what’s a girl to do then? Hit the road with a couple dollars?” She fixes him with a look that is too old for her face. “Naw, I think I’ll stay with youse a little longer.”

“That’s alright, but we’re gonna have to be moving on real soon.” He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore the unspoken reminder that it’s because of him and his actions. “It ain’t like we can promise to be back up this way any time in the near future. If you change your mind-”

“I won’t change my mind about them, Mr Morgan.” She shivers in a breeze that only seems to touch her. “No, sir. They had me bound real good for real long, but I don’t need ‘em. I won my freedom, Mr Morgan, an’ I ain’t going back.”

He risks a glance, curiosity getting the better of him. Her eyes are sparkling as bright as the water's surface, but her jaw is clenched tight. He debates riding further, doing what he can to get them set up at the fishing spot Hosea had heard about as they moved through the state to their current set up, but the child looked too old. Too tired. Too existentially exhausted.

Plus, when you get low enough, it's like some things will follow wherever you go.

“Let’s stop here a while.”

As predicted, Miss Jackson double takes. “Don’t you want to get to where we’re headed?”

Arthur shrugs. “Ain’t like there ain’t food to be foraged here. Nothing to come raising any hell or bother us into raising it for them. Reckon this spot’s as good as any.”

He turns his back to her as she dismounts warily, focusing his energy on starting a small campfire they can add to.

"I ain't goin' anywhere if you wanna swim." He grimaces as his words come out gruffer than intended. "I got clean clothes in the saddle bags here if you want 'em for the trip back or to swim in even. Can't imagine that skirt is the lightest when it gets wet."

"You ain't wrong, Mr Arthur, sir. Thank you for the offer but I think I'm just gonna stick to paddling for now."

"Sure."

It's not his first choice. This land is a little too dry for his liking, but that's what comes with being so close to the desert. Money means nothing to nature, besides she provides everything and more than what shops and butchers supply. Who needs civilisation when there's the wilds to retreat into? When there is wild carrots and rhubarb aplenty, fresh meat, shelter, all for the low cost of taking what you need as you need it?

The fire started, he sets out to look for fuel and food. Crouching down to check dung and disturbances in the foliage, he finds the damage is minimal. He swears again, taking a swig of whiskey from his satchel.

He doesn't really remember a time he didn't drink, but he knows this is different. He knows this isn't a choice on his behalf. The demon demands fuel as a child demands milk, and like the fool he is, he provides without much hesitation. Anything for a glimmer of peace from the screaming child in his mind.

He scoffs at himself and straightens up, looking around on the off chance some animal is dumb enough to be caught out in the open - and as luck would have it, a pronghorn buck is grazing a stones throw away.

He inhales deeply, taking aim with newfound focus, and fires.

The pronghorn bolts, but it's no contest for the bullet soaring his way. A mournful cry bleats through the undergrowth as it flees. He follows, as loud as he likes given the rip of the shot would have blasted a warning to anything within earshot. Breaking through a wall of cacti, he spots Miss Tilly aghast in the shallows as the buck splashes into the lake he had washed up in on their arrival.

He keeps going, realising the buck is heading for a wet escape. Shedding his guns as he runs, he wades in after it, shouting.

The buck is swimming in deep water, leaving behind a trail of blood behind with every baleful bleat, leaving Arthur with no option besides taking a spur of the moment swim or going home with an empty stomach.

"C'mere!" he cries, breaking into breaststroke. The buck is slowing, every cry growing more lamenting and mournful. "Stop! I can make it stop, just come a little closer."

It's crying weakly by the time he manages to reach it. He throws an arm over its neck and fumbles for his hunting knife, but the blood proves too thick and one small fumble sends it disappearing into the depths.

"C'mon," he grunts, tugging the wounded animal with him as he kicks his way towards shore. "You ain't gonna get any lighter."

He struggles towards shore, gasping assurances every chance he gets. When his boots finally scrape the bottom, he whistles for his mount with the last of the air in his lungs.

He finally releases the animal, using both hands to search for a knife or a pistol - something to end its suffering quickly. Drowning the thing felt too callous, too slow, too-

"Will this be enough?"

Arthur, still gasping for breath, hair dripping into his blue eyes, pauses, surprised. A small hand is proferring a flip knife, her small face reflecting the distress of his own. Recovering, he nods quickly, thanking her as he takes the tool from her and advising her to look away and cover her ears. Obeying doesn’t lessen the heart wrenching last cry of the animal, but on opening her eyes again, she decides it is less painful than watching the poor thing struggle as it drowned.

Arthur is holding the animal, counting, as though held to some strange code to make sure it is dead before removing the tool of choice. He shakes the knife under the surface and folds it up, passing it back to her with a grunt of thanks. She takes it, still in shock at the unexpected show of violence.

He pushes the carcass out of the water, promising to be back soon before swimming back to where he caught the animal. Watching his head disappear under the surface, she is left with the silence of the cooling body nearby. It looks strangely peaceful staring off into the east.

Arthur swims back, pushing back the sodden mop of brown hair as he wades out with sopping boots and a shiny carving knife he must have dropped earlier. He advises her to leave him to it if she’s squeamish, and she refuses up until the animals guts plume onto the sand.

From a distance, she watches him carry them away from their makeshift camp, covering them up with some leaves and branches to disguise the worse of the mess but leave it readily available to the creatures due a feast. Returning to the body, he begins to carve with care, piling steaks onto canvas. He wastes as little as possible, even wrapping the exposed neck of the head in canvas before tying it onto the horse. He turns to the water, notices her watching and walks over.

“Reckon we’re almost done here,” he calls as he gets close enough. “Just gonna wash up and we can get going.”

“You always butcher your kill before going back?” she asks.

He huffs, a twinkle in his eye. “Sure, when I don’t plan on walking back. Figured you’d rather hitch a ride than straddle a dead deer.”

She shudders, making him laugh as he kicks off his boots and setting them aside to dry from earlier. He doesn’t remove his clothes, just pulls a bar of soap from the saddlebags and asks if she minds if he doesn’t dry off. She herself finally admits internally that she feels grubby. She had washed and washed and washed, and eventually came to accept the grime was not going to wash off her. Too much dirt, too ingrained, too repeated to ever shed properly…

She follows him, still keeping her distance. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything, just keeps scrubbing suds under his nails, over his forearms, into every fibre of his shirt. When she finally feels brave enough to speak up, she takes a deep breath, and on a whim decides to splash him.

He turns around, frowning, before picking up on the giggles and grinning himself. His arms are stronger, thicker, longer - the retaliation engulfs her with a responding tidal wave that leaves her gasping for air. In the small glimpse she makes of him, she notes the guilt and the apology on his lips as he believes himself having gone too far, but she’s too quick. She pushes him in the chest and tries to swim away as quick as she can, squealing the whole way.

Their laughter disturbs the birds in the branches, and they take flight, not that either of them notice. They play until the sun lowers to kiss the leaves around them. They share the bar of soap, and Tilly takes refuge in his disinterest. He lets her wash. She lets him wash. Both of them keep their distance when appropriate.

“Perhaps we oughta ride back in the morning,” Arthur muses when he notices how much she is shivering. "It's only gonna get colder, and at least we've got a fire going here."

“I don’t mind making the ride.”

He chuckles, eyes soft. “Miss Tilly. You’re dead on your feet, and sure as hell will be dead in the saddle. I can fall asleep just about anywhere if you’re alright with the tent and bedroll? Hell, it’d make a nice change to waking up to Susan and Dutch arguing, huh?”

“You ain’t wrong...” She is still hesitating. Arthur tried to shake the thought of what she must have been through and instead tells himself that it's standard practice to be wary of new folk. She could feel safe in camp because there were more people to keep tabs on one another. Out here, it was just him, her and the stars, and since when did the stars ever do anything to help?

“Listen. Choice is yours. I’ll ride through the night if that’s what you want, but I promise you’re safe with me.” He checks the barrel of his revolver, counting the six bullets nestled inside before snapping it in place and holding it out by the barrel. “Here. I can’t give you both in case we get jumped, but I’ll stow the long arms on Wyn if that makes it easier.”

She sits in silence for a long while before nodding slowly.

“Alright then. You get to eating your fill while I set you up for the night.”

*****

She wakes up, well rested and warm. She takes a few minutes to lay there, watching the shadows of the flies buzzing on the canvas above before finally crawling out in search of fresh air.

Owain is grazing not so far away, but Arthur is nowhere to be seen. His long arms are still stashed, the fire just ash now. Panic rises in her throat, torn between the fear of him being jumped and him abandoning her willingly.

She frets, pacing, checking their reserves. No, she has no clue where the hell he has taken her so she doesn’t know where to even start on trying to return to Mr Matthews and Mr Van der Linde. She curses him for being so spoilt as to be threatened by a little girl.

“Mornin’, Miss Jackson.” She flinches, immediately retreating from the greeting. Arthur is frowning under the brim of his hat as he dismounts the small bay coloured horse. “Everythin’ alright?”

“I thought you left me,” she admits, still choked up. He seems surprised, then bashful, trying to hide it by patting the neck of the horse he has with him.

“Naw. There was a herd moving through here early this morning and I remembered about you wantin’ a horse of your own.” He gives her an awkward nod. “Whaddaya reckon? She rides pretty nice. One of the smaller one, but she seems friendly enough. If you wanna keep her, I’ll set you up on mine until we can get this one broke in properly if tha’s alright?”

“Sure.”

“Awesome.” He begins to pack their things away, tacking Owain and bribing both steads with sugar cubes.

“We going hunting again?”

Arthur puts away the brush and pats his horse’s neck. “Naw. Today we’re headed to Greyhound Station.”

“Why?”

“Boring stuff. Check to see if anyone’s tried to write us. Check for bounties and that we ain’t most of ‘em. See if there’s any jobs goin’, keep an ear to the ground in case there’s money to be had. You know, standard outlaw stuff.”

“I ain’t ever been on a wanted poster yet,” she muses. “That I know of anyhow. Knowing the Foreman Brothers, they’ll be tryin’ to frame me for something.”

“The Foreman Brothers?”

“The… gang. The ones I was with when Dutch and Hosea found me.” Arthur hums in acknowledgement but doesn’t press it. It’s like he knows it’s a big bruise still there after months of riding with them. “They was wrestlin’ to hang me or bury me alive. Never did find out which since I managed to wriggle off the wagon without them noticin’. So much for family.”

“Y’all were related?”

“Yeah.” She spits off the side. “Good riddance to ‘em.”

He hums. “If anybody tries to pull that with you again, you lemme know. I’ll get ‘em before they blink.” He rummages in his saddle bag and pulls out a glass bottle of clear liquid. She frowns as he takes a greedy few gulps before offering it to her.

“I ain’t much a fan of the bottle, Arthur.”

He throws her a look of befuddlement over his shoulder before understanding befalls him. “It weren’t my first choice, Miss Jackson, but I’ve yet to learn how best to store water if not in a bottle of some kind.”

“Water?”

“Water,” he repeats with a shake of his head. “Whiskey’s the other side if you want some.”

“I’m good for now, Mr Morgan,” she smiles, raising the bottle to her lips, squinting at the sunburned strip that’s the back of his neck. “Maybe some other time.”

#rdr2 reverse big bang #rdr2 #rdrbigbang #rdrreversebang2021 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fic #tilly jackson #arthur morgan #sunspott

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softforcal · 5 years

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Monte Carlo : Racecar driver!Cal

Summary: They've been going to the same bar for a while, but have never talked. Then, across the globe, they meet at a club. He's there for a formula one race, she's there as an Instagram promoter for The Grand Prix. Angst and slow-burn ensues.

Word Count: 14k

Warnings: some smut

Tropes: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Angst, ft. Harry Styles

note: I started writing this when i first got into f1 so it's not 100% correct on how f1 operates but that's ok. Also I’m not from New York but i tried my best lol

Nascar stuff to watch if you want a full experience: Hot Lap, Champagne popping.

****************

She’d met him in a bar.

It wasn't a southside bar. The carpets weren’t stained by booze, ashes from used cigarettes and various human fluids, whether that be blood or sweat or whatever else landed on the floor in a dodgy hole in the wall.

Yet, it wasn’t a North Side bar either. They didn’t have the most expensive bottles of whiskey, no ‘hints of aged oak’ or bottles boasting of being over a hundred years old.

No, it was a middle ground. People loitered outside, men in leather smoking with the bouncers. The women there wore strappy heels and weren’t afraid to kick them off to play a game of pool. It was perfect, and there was nowhere else Celeste would have rather been.

The charm of the bar wasn’t even really the bar itself, but a certain regular.

His arrival was always signaled by the scent that would rush into the bar when a bouncer opened the door for him. The stuff he smoked always seemed to smell different, the type of sweetness that was edged, the type of sweetness that told you not to get too close.

No one could help but look at him when he entered. He was beautiful, the type of guy who could afford to relax in a North Side bar where the extra cost for drinks bought you more discreet eyes.

He never seemed to mind the eyes though, and Celeste wasn’t surprised, after all, she supposed a racecar driver of his stature would be used to it by now.

She’d thought he was cute before the bartender had even mentioned that the gorgeous brunette was a famous race car driver. Celeste wasn’t the type to watch cars, whether they be NASCAR or formula one. Hell, she didn’t even know the difference between the two - didn’t particularly care.

Celeste could understand the man - she wasn’t sure of his name - she wasn’t too picky about being seen either. Both of them were young and alive, chasing dreams and becoming successful at an early age.

The driver must have been twenty-three or four, already a known winner. If Celeste could remember correctly, she thought she’d heard he was one of the drivers for Ferrari, which sounded prestigious.

Celeste was twenty-two and at the cusp of finding stardom in the world of modeling. She’d been discovered by a recruiter at aged sixteen and bounced around smaller brands before landing a gig with Victoria’s Secret. Although she’d yet to walk their runway, one of the designers had showed her picture to a friend and just like that, Celeste had become the muse for one of the biggest fashion brands in North America.

She supposed she was lucky, blessed really, to have been in the mall the day the recruiter discovered her.

And likewise, she supposed the driver was fortunate to have been introduced to driving at a young age.

So there the two of them were, two young stars shortening the vicinity between themselves every Friday night or so. Close but not touching, never meeting.

Later in her life, Celeste would wonder if it was odd for the other patrons who frequented the bar. If it was odd for them to be minding their own business and have not one, but two, semi-famous people just decide ‘this is my chosen bar.’ But in those moments when Celeste accepted a challenge in pool, playing against other drunk university girls, Celeste was just one of the people who’d found a little slice of home in a midtown bar.

***

Calum swirled the whiskey in his glass, taking a deep breath and turning so his back was leaning against the bar top. His eyes found her immediately. She was the type of girl that stood out. Even if he hadn’t been told by his favourite bartender that the girl was a model, he could have guessed.

It was hard to tear his gaze from her as she bent over the pool table to line up a shot. Her little jean shorts hugged her ass perfectly, and the way her thighs were pressed against the table made Calum lick his lips. She wasn't a typical model, or at least didn’t have the thinner body type. She was what his friends would call slim thicc, and Calum ate it up every time she entered the bar.

The girls she was playing with were obviously university students from the school down the road. Calum had seen them once or twice, they liked to get drunk and play pool. They were also obviously fans of the model, and to the models credit, she was very kind to them any time they approached her.

“You should go talk to her.” the bartender suggested, “two pretty people like you, it makes sense.”

Calum smirked against the rim of his glass, humming absentmindedly, “does it?”

“You should do it soon, you know everyone’s been taking bets on when you end up talking to her, who approaches who.”

“Really?” Calum turned to look at the bartender.

“No, but it’s a good idea, maybe I should start that up.” he paused, “come on man, you’re a regular, she’s a regular. You’ve both been coming in for what? Six months now? Most Fridays? Except for when you’re off in Italy or Mexico or wherever, winning trophies and she’s doing modeling gigs. The two of you would make sense together.”

Calum shot the last mouthful of whiskey, setting the glass down, “no we wouldn’t.” he stated, tossing a bill onto the counter. He didn’t look up at the bartender, instead, he grabbed his leather jacket that had been thrown over a bar chair and shrugged it on. It was warm and worn, and Calum produced a joint from inside one of the pockets, tucking it behind his ear and amongst his dark curls. His trusty lighter was in his hand by the time he was pushing the door open to escape the bar.

The cold air wrapped around him and Calum’s nimble fingers moved the joint from behind his ear to his lips, the lighter flicking on. He took a long drag and his eyes closed, the warm feeling wrapping around him pleasantly.

He knew he was being a pussy.

Knew that sixth months was six months too many for him to be in the same vicinity of a girl like that and not make a move. Calum liked to take his time with women, which is why he enjoyed going to the bar alone.

His friends didn’t get it. They were all about driving fast, living fast and fucking fast.

Calum would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy speed, he was a fucking racecar driver for Christ’s sake. One of the fastest in the world, if his last race was anything to go by.

But when it came to women? Well with women, Calum liked to go slow.

Besides, he was only going away for a week, maybe a little more. She’d be there when he got back.

***

The pop of the champagne bottle announced the spray of liquor that began to stream over Calum and his friends. Ashton was pointing his bottle towards the crowd and fans screamed up at them, allowing the expensive liquid to drench them as the drivers celebrated.

Calum’s cheeks hurt from smiling, and two of his friends held his head back as Ashton poured booze into his mouth. He was getting used to this treatment, they were only four events into the year but this was Calum’s third win. He was going to drink a little, but he was saving his energy for the next race, it mattered more to him anyways.

The Monaco Grand Prix held a special place in Calum’s heart and he could hardly wait for the week and a half for it to start.

Champagne dripped down the front of his red jumpsuit and Calum shoved his friends away, heart pumping fast. It only ever beat this way when he won first place, something that was happening with more and more frequency.

The air was still tinged with red from the gusts of coloured smoke that had been released as he’d crossed the finish line.

For a moment something else flashed red across his vision, a shirt the model had been wearing the week before. She must have not had any idea when she’d chosen that colour that it had a deeper meaning for Calum. It was the colour of Ferrari, his colour, a colour that always sparked his heart with fire, the colour that promised a race, promised the elevation into paradise that came with a win.

One of his friends grabbing his jumpsuit drew Calum’s attention, and the image of the girl was gone.

***

Celeste lounged in her chair, celebrating a successful shoot with a slice of pizza. As she bit into the cheesy goodness, her makeup artist sat next to her, “you have to see this.” she said, moving her phone where Celeste could see, “it’s from the race practice today.”

“And it’s Formula one right?” Celeste clarified. She felt bad, knowing that she should logically know more about the cars. After all, she was in Monte Carlo for the Monaco Grand Prix. The brand who hired her to be their correspondent for the paid promotion trip had known Celeste had no background with motorsports, so they had a journalist creating her captions for all of her paid posts. But Celeste still felt bad.

“Yeah this is formula one, you can tell because the cars are thinner remember? just watch this.” the girl said with excitement. Celeste focused on the screen, watching as a red car sped down a track, “oh my god, how fast is he going?”

“Fast.” the girl breathed.

There were two cars, a red and a blue. The red tried to skim past the blue and sent them both spiraling out, the blue coming to stand still as the driver got their bearing, however, the red car hadn’t even stopped spinning before it was off again, speed gaining to catch the car that had taken the lead from him during those brief seconds of collision.

The camera angle switched to the camera attached to the red car and even at massively high speeds, the driver was fixing their mirror that had been damaged in the collision, and driving with only one hand.

One more harsh turn had red overtake the other red that had been in the lead.

The clip cut off.

“Did he win?” Celeste asked.

“He did, but this was just a practice, we still have qualifiers and the actual race.” her artist said, “fuck, Hood is insane, I’ve never seen a driver recover from a bump so quick.”

“I’m shocked the bump didn’t have them both like, flipping or something.” Celeste said, “every time I think about race cars I think about how deadly the crashes look.”

“Just be glad you’re not dating a driver.” her artist said.

Celeste laughed, “thank god.”

***

Celeste had been busy most of the day, but she’d heard the notorious Hood had won yet again, not that it was a surprise, apparently. People on the streets were talking about him, his name whispered over and over again everywhere Celeste went to take pictures.

The other model she was with had done the Monte Carlo coverage for the brand the year before, she’d chosen a club and said that it was the place to be the night of the qualifiers and especially the next night after the final.

It was easy enough to get onto the list for the exclusive club, and the fellow model, a girl named Alexa, warned Celeste not to sleep with any of the drivers, “they’re pigs.” Alexa said as they got out of the limo, “only good for pictures and tags but other than that? They talk a big game about liking it fast but these men don’t have stamina for shit.”

Celeste laughed, following Alexa up past the security who didn’t even ask if they were on the list. Alexa and Celeste where the types of girls who surpassed lists, if a straight man ever tried to refuse them entrance to a club, it would surely mark a coming apocalypse and pigs would be flying.

The VIP section of club was alive with people, full of the rich elite, the type of people who flew out to Monte Carlo with the pure intent of watching Formula One racing. Celeste decided, as she walked amongst people with pearls and diamonds adorning their bodies, that Formula One was an expensive sport. Alexa had mentioned early in the day, as the two of them absentmindedly waited for the cars to zoom past where they were sitting in the crowd, that some Formula One cars could cost around fifteen and a half million dollars to make.

Celeste had nearly fallen out of her seat at the number, and her mouth had gone dry as her eyes went to the track, watching the expensive cars who could at any moment flip and waste so much money.

The thought of cars crashing was swept from Celeste’s mind as she was dragged by Alexa through the crowd of people. The racers weren’t hard to spot. They were all decked out in sponsored caps and casual outfits. The only people in the room who didn’t feel like they needed to dress up, because they didn’t. Every rich person in the room was there for them, the racers had all the power, all eyes on them.

Some were surprisingly young looking, and many of them were smaller than Celeste expected. “Why are they so tiny?” Celeste whispered, stopping Alexa in her tracks as Celeste looked at the racers.

“The more weight that’s in the car, the slower it goes, smaller is better… for once.” Alexa teased, “come on.”

Then they were in the midst of the racers, Alexa hugging a man she fondly called Ash. He was a bit bigger than the others, but still not up to Celeste’s standards. Her eyes wandered, a smile on her face flashed to anyone Alexa introduced her too.

A song came on and Celeste’s hand tightened around Alexa’s, “oh my gosh, this is my song!” Celeste said, looking at her with pleading eyes, “come dance with me?”

“You go ahead, I have to catch up with some friends.” Alexa said.

Celeste didn’t need to be told twice, letting go of her friend to escape to the dancefloor. It was out of the way of the VIP section, filled with a younger crowd that Celeste felt akin to. She meshed in, lost within the swarm of dancing people. The song was new, by an artist she’d followed since his boyband years. His new music was rich and fun, the artist making a true name for himself as a rockstar.

Her hips swayed to the music, the beautiful metallic sheer dress hugging all her curves as she smiled and danced with the people who made room for her. She’d never had issues fitting in, least of all on a dancefloor.

When the song finished, she continued to dance, even though the next songs weren’t her favourites. She was just beginning to sweat when a hand grabbed hers, Alexa pulling her roughly, “Celeste come with me now!”

By the time they’d exited the crowd, it was obvious where Celeste was taking her. Standing in the VIP section, surrounded by racers, looking as handsome as ever, was Harry Styles, the very artist that Celeste had swooned over when his song had come on.

Her heart froze in her chest and she stopped in her tracks, pulled harshly again by Alexa, “come on!” Alexa said, “you have to meet him!”

***

Calum was becoming an expert in the art of opening and spraying champagne. He’d won the Monaco Grand Prix, taking the first spot like he was entitled to it, and keeping it until he’d crossed the finish line. His entire body was on fire, heart racing in his chest.

Ashton stood next to him, he’d finished third, which was also impressive. It was obvious that they’d be celebrating that night, after the interviews. Calum was excited about the night ahead, he’d always found Monte Carlo to be a dreamlike city, wonderous and in a way romantic.

He wasn’t sure what would happen that night, but if it was anything like his triumphant day, he knew it would be amazing. Nothing could pull him away from his post win high, and he was sure of that.

***

It was her.

Calum blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. No, it was her. The girl from the bar. The influencer who’d weaseled her way into his brain without even knowing it, was there, a few yards away. She had a glass of champagne in her hand, but it was still full.

Calum recognized the girl next to his influencer, a model named Alexa. He’d met her at a few of his races, she was a brand endorser for a number of the same brands Calum worked for. He knew he was on her Instagram, tagged a few times, pictures of the two of them standing next to each other, her smile much larger than his. Alexa was a nice girl, he enjoyed her, but Calum generally tried to stay away from models, he wasn’t quite sure why.

Alexa spotted him a moment later, her eyes widening as she motioned him over, opening her arms to pull him into a tight hug, “I can't believe you won!” she screamed, “that’s what? Your third race in a row? What’s your secret Hood?!”

Calum’s eyes darted between Alexa and the influencer next to her, still not introduced, waiting politely for his answer.

“Uh-” Calum wracked his brain for a witty response but nothing came, “who’s your friend?”

Alexa didn’t even seem to mind that he hadn’t answered her question, “this is Celeste.” she said.

Celeste held out a hand, “nice to meet you-”

“Calum.”

“Calum.” she repeated his name, a silly smile on her face. The name tasted sweet on her tongue, “I think… have we met before?” she tried to play it cool, but she knew exactly where she’d seen him. This was the mystery hunk who frequented her bar back in New York.

For months she’d been trying to work up the courage to go talk to him, and now there he was, halfway across the world in a club that was too loud, a new title added to his impressive resume.

Calum nodded, “we go to the same bar in New York.” he didn’t even bother dancing around the idea of where they knew each other from.

Celeste’s heart leaped in her chest.

“You two know each other?” Alexa asked in shock.

“Not really-” Celeste began as Calum said “no.” they both stopped, waiting for the other to continue. Both of them blushed, Calum readjusting his guinness cap on his head.

A man with honey coloured curls appeared, arm going around Calum as he greeted Alexa, “who’s your friend?” Ashton asked.

“Celeste.” Celeste answered, holding out her hand to him.

Calum watched every movement, loving every motion.

“I’m Ashton,” the man said, turning to Alexa, “you need a drink.” he stated, grabbing Alexa’s hand.

“Only if you’re buying.” Alexa teased, allowing Ashton to pull her towards the bar, leaving Calum alone with Celeste.

“So you won today!” Celeste said enthusiastically, “that must be so great for you!”

Calum could see her struggling with her words, “you don’t watch F1 much do you?”

“F1?”

“Formula One.” Calum corrected himself with a laugh.

“No, I don't.” Celeste admitted awkwardly, “fast cars aren’t really my thing.”

“Really?” Calum asked in shock, she looked like the kind of girl who would own a luxury car, but maybe he was getting ahead of himself.

“Yeah, I don't know, fast cars, crashes, guess I’m a bit of a scaredy-cat.” Celeste laughed, sipping her champagne.

“I could take you for a drive.” Calum stated, the words left his mouth before he could stop them, “I mean, my Ferrari is down at the track-”

“I’d have to be really drunk to agree to that.” Celeste laughed, the tone of it twinkling deliciously and making Calum smile.

“Then, cheers.” Calum clinked his beer with Celeste’s champagne glass.

“To F1.” Celeste said, already incorporating the new term Calum had taught her.

Calum smiled at her, “To fast cars, crashes and scaredy cats.”

***

“We are not doing this.” Celeste said, even as she got into the car. Calum closed the door behind her, hurrying to his own side to get into the driver's seat, “Calum, your seatbelt is straight out of bondage porno.”

“Watch a lot of those?” Calum laughed, his skin heating as he turned to look at the model who was holding the harness like a seatbelt.

“Calum!” Celeste said loudly again, jaw-dropping as she looked at him, “no!”

Calum grinned, reaching over to help her put the seatbelt on. He hadn’t pushed her to drink more, Celeste had done that on her own. She’d said after a few sips of champagne that ‘it wasn’t every day a formula one racer offered to take a gal out for a drive’ and had downed her glass. Seeing she was serious, Calum had put down his beer, having only had a sip of it.

He was completely sober, unlike the girl next to him. She was a bubbly drunk, much like the champagne that had caused her to be this way.

Calum grabbed the two safety helmets from the back of the car, handing one to Celeste. She looked at it like it was about to bite her, “what?!”

“For safety.” Calum said, putting it on her himself before putting on his own.

“How fast are we going to go?” Celeste asked.

“As fast as you want.” Calum said, putting on his own seatbelt before looking out at the track. He didn’t want to tell her that he would go over 200 km/h on straights, he knew he was being devious but he didn’t care so much.

He’d done this before, never with a model, but it wasn’t uncommon for him to show up and go for a celebratory lap of the track the night after a win. He’d even left his car on the track, having always planned on coming and doing this. Security was always nice to him, partly, he supposed, because he was a winner, but also partly because he was a nice guy.

“Fast.” Celeste whispered, then she looked at him, “wait, not super fast,” she said, then she frowned, “no, fast? Maybe?”

Calum laughed, “I'll just start, and if you want me to go slower, I can, yeah?”

“Okay.” Celeste said, her eyes lingering on the racer's profile, “pretty.” she mumbled, so quietly that Calum almost didn’t hear her. He felt his skin heating, could feel his ears turning red as the car roared to life, the engine purring.

“Fuck.” Celeste said, grabbing at the car door.

Calum laughed, turning to look at her, “we haven’t even moved yet.”

“What if I don't want to anymore?”

Calum took his foot off the brake and the car rolled about two feet, making Celeste grip the door tighter.

“We can stop.” Calum said, easing off the brake again to move another few feet.

Celeste took a deep breath, then turned to look at him, “Murder me.” she stated.

Calum’s breath caught in his throat and he blinked, taking a moment before he realized she meant that he should drive so fast she’ll metaphorically die. He swallowed thickly. “You got it.” he said, voice hoarse.

“Have you ever taken someone out on something like this before?” Celeste asked, suddenly sounding quite sober.

“We call them hot laps.” Calum stated, “I've taken a few athletes out on some, done some drifting, some donuts-”

“Can we do some donuts? I love donuts.” Celeste said as Calum pulled onto the track.

“Sure.” Calum looked at her, “do you trust me?”

Celeste wet her lips, “no?”

The first part of the track was straight and Calum’s foot went all the way down on the gas pedal. Celeste squealed, thrown back into her seat as Calum grinned. They reached 230 km/h quickly and Celeste screamed as she saw the first turn coming into view.

She didn’t tell him to slow down, which Calum appreciated as he adjusted the car for the turn, hitting the apex (the inner corner) perfectly as Celeste squealed next to him. Calum couldn’t help but smile, pushing the car faster again as he came out of the corner.

He knew this track like the back of his hand. Knew it was 3.4 kilometers, nineteen harsh corners that would have him breaking for around 20% of the drive, giving him ample reason to drift just to make Celeste scream. Fuck. He loved it.

There was no one watching, just him and Celeste, and she obviously knew nothing about racing. Which meant he could get away with doing things that had them both thrown around the car, just for the hell of it.

It was the type of track where he couldn’t go as fast as he wanted, he wanted to be able to show Celeste how fast a car could go.

The sharp turns were coming up and Calum was ready for Celeste’s loud scream as the tires skidded across asphalt, he wasn’t ready for her hand landing on his thigh, holding on tightly.

He held the record for fastest lap in the world at this track, having completed it in 1 minute and 13.60 seconds, almost a full second faster than anyone else in the world. In the car he was in now, it would take longer, but driving always seemed fast to him.

He was focused behind the wheel, moving it expertly, taking each turn as Celeste screamed next to him, never letting go of his leg.

To Celeste, the ride felt like eons, every turn threw her to the side, her eyes unable to keep a track of the road in front of them. She simply had to hold on and enjoy it. Part of her did. Perhaps it was her drunken state, but she wasn’t really that afraid. She trusted the man next to her, even if she didn’t understand why.

The car skidded to a halt and just as Celeste thought it was over, Calum lurched the wheel to the side and threw Celeste to the left, as she squealed. The car continued to go in tight circles, a harsh weight pulling on Celeste as she screamed, eyes closed, mind dizzy.

The car stopped and Celeste took a moment to open her eyes, blinking at Calum.

“That was a donut.” he told her.

“Thank you.” Celeste whispered.

Calum laughed, then his eyes darted down to her hand on his thigh, she followed his gaze, offering him a lazy smile, “you have nice thighs.”

“You do too.” Calum said, voice hoarse. It was true. She’s what Calum’s friends would call “thiccer than a sniccer” and it had not escaped his notice.

“Do I?” Celeste asked, removing her hand from Calum to look down at her lap, “you don’t think they’re too big?”

“No.” Calum said honestly, following her eyes now as he looked at her legs. He swallowed thickly, tearing his gaze away, “where are you staying?”

“I forget what it’s called.” Celeste said, a happy smile on her face, “can I stay with you tonight?”

Calum’s mind was blank for a moment. He wasn’t sure what she was asking for. He wasn’t about to take advantage of her, no matter how badly he wanted her thighs wrapped around his head- “uh- sure.”

“Sleep over!” Celeste squealed, “we have to order pizza!”

“I don’t eat pizza.” Calum said as he took off his helmet, reaching over to help Celeste take off hers.

“What?! Why not?!” Celeste pouted, looking very concerned.

“Racecar drivers are supposed to be small, less weight means a faster car-”

“But you’re so big and tall.” Celeste smiled.

“Yeah,” Calum laughed, “so i try not to eat much, don’t want to gain any more weight than I already have, I'm a lot taller than most drivers.”

“That must mean you’re really good.”

Calum smiled, setting the helmets in the back of the car then going to unbuckle Celeste. He stayed quiet, too humble to tell her that she was right.

Celeste turned to look out the window, opening the door once she’d been released from the seatbelt. By the time Calum had gone to join her on the other side of the car she was laying on the ground, “the stars are so pretty.” she mused.

Calum sighed. At the start of his day, he’d expected maybe winning the race. He hadn’t expected to bump into the model he’d been lusting over for months from New York, in a club in Monte Carlo, only to drive her around then lay on the track and look at the stars with her.

Calum got down next to her, his shoulder just touching hers, “the stars are pretty nice.”

“For my part, I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.” Celeste breathed, “Van Gogh. I'm really tired Calum, can you take me home?”

He couldn’t take her home, not really. All they had was his hotel room. But perhaps it wasn’t bricks and mortar that made something a home, perhaps it was something else. Something not solid, not something you could hold in your hands. Maybe it was a feeling.

He wondered what could be home.

***

Celeste blinked, sitting up in a bed that was not her own. The first thing she noticed was the wall of pillows to her left. Curled up in the pillows was a head of dark curls and Celeste recognized Calum. His back was to her, a redshirt covering his broad shoulders. Even in bed, he wore Ferrari’s colours, it was intriguing.

Calum was awake, and when the bed dipped, he knew Celeste was as well. He rolled over and sat up, looking at her, “how are you feeling?” he asked.

“My head hurts a little,” she admitted, “you took me racing last night?”

“I took you on the track.” Calum said.

She blinked at him, “I remember screaming a lot.”

A smile spread across Calum’s face, “yeah, I think you enjoyed it.”

“I think I remember enjoying it.”

Calum got out of the bed, “I'm going to go get you breakfast, waffles and donuts right?”

“How did you know my cheat meal?”

“You were ranting about it last night, wanted to go find a diner to make you some fried chicken and waffles.” Calum answered, leaning against the doorway, “I don't think they’ll have the deep-fried chicken, but they have waffles, and donuts, sprinkles right?”

“Did I tell you all of my favourite foods last night?” Celeste laughed.

“Nah,” Calum smiled, “just your top hundred.” he teased, “I'll be back soon.”

Celeste looked down, realizing she was also in a Ferrari shirt. It was Calum’s, the red of it more worn and comfy looking than the shirt Calum had been wearing. It was large on her and when she got out of bed it went just to her upper thighs. The fabric was not made for a woman, not made to curve over a large bum, as Celeste turned to look at herself in the mirror next to the bed, her eyes took in the way the shirt teased. Every movement had it riding a little bit higher, sneaking a sliver of bodaciousness that she was known for.

Her hair was still wavy from it’s styling the night before but all of her makeup was gone.

She had some sort of memory of Calum wiping a warm cloth over her face.

Yes, now she remembered. He’d brought her to the hotel and had insisted on cleaning her up before letting her pass out. He’d wiped the makeup from her face gently while she ranted about food. She missed American food, missed the diner in New York that she went to every Sunday morning for deep-fried chicken and waffles.

The door to the room opened and Calum stepped in, a box full of food in his hands. He set it down on the tabletop next to Celeste’s side of the bed, then he began rearranging the pillows, straightening out the blanket.

“Thanks for the breakfast.” Celeste said, picking up a waffle.

“Don’t mention it.”

“So… are you headed back to New York soon?” she asked.

“There’s another race in under two weeks, I think a lot of us are going to stay here, and then head to Canada together, France after that-”

“Oh my god, I didn’t know you raced in so many countries.”

“This is round six, there’s twenty-one in total, so that’s still fifteen to go.” Calum said, not looking up at her.

“Fifteen more races? Fifteen more countries?” Celeste asked in shock.

“Yeah.”

“Shit.” Celeste chewed on her waffle.

Calum looked down at his watch.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” Celeste asked.

“Yeah, I have to go do training, then meet up with my team and talk about the race yesterday.”

“You’re a busy guy.”

Calum offered her a smile, “sorry I can’t stay longer and have breakfast with you.”

“It’s okay.”

“Are you going back to New York soon?” Calum asked.

“Uh…” Celeste’s mouth was dry, “I'm not sure yet.” her skin was prickling. She’d almost forgotten about the charming brit she’d met two nights before. The brit she’d gone home with. The brit she was meeting up with in- “fuck, I have to go-”

Calum laughed, “got somewhere to be?”

“Yeah a date,” Celeste answered, shoving the waffle in her mouth, “I need to give you your shirt back-” she said around the waffle.

Calum’s expression had changed, but Celeste hadn’t noticed, too busy looking around for her stuff, “Keep it.” Calum said, “You can give it back to me in New York.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I have a lot of Ferrari shirts.”

“Are you sure?”

“Uh huh.”

Celeste grabbed her small clutch purse, finding her shirt and skirt on the ground. She pulled the skirt up her legs, the stretchy material hugging her curves as she did a french tuck with the front of her shirt, “Calum, thank you so much for last night, for everything.” she said sincerely, turning to look at the driver.

“Don’t mention it.”

She stepped towards him and wrapped him in a hug. After a moment of hesitation, Calum hugged her back.

“I’ll see you in New York.” she promised as she pulled away, “we’ll have to meet up at the bar or something.”

Calum smiled, but it was forced, “sounds fun.”

“It will be.” Celeste ran to the door, “good luck with everything! Congrats again on your win yesterday.”

“Thanks. Get home safe.”

“I will.”

Then she was gone.

The twelve hours he’d had with her felt like borrowed time. As if he’d somehow stolen those hours from whatever god or being had kept the two of them apart for so long. And now she was gone. Calum felt like Cinderella at midnight, except it was nine AM and he wasn’t a princess in a Disney movie.

He was a formula one driver with a job to do. And he wasn’t about to let a pretty brunette get in the way of his work, even if she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen in his life.

****

They’d followed each other that day, the notification lighting up Calum’s phone. The first of many pleasant phone buzzes signaling a message from the model. She’d posted a picture of chicken waffles on her story her first day back in New York and Calum hadn’t been able to resist the urge to message her about it, congratulating her on finally quenching her craving.

Conversation with her was easy. Two weeks into casually talking, she’d sent him a meme about friends, saying ‘us.’ it hadn’t thrown Calum off, he considered her a friend too. After all, the best relationships start with friendship, something Calum had learned after many failed attempts at love.

Celeste even congratulated Calum on winning second in the race in Canada and it had shocked him that she’d watched it. “What are friends for?” she’d messaged back, warming Calum’s whole body.

Their friendship reached a new height when she asked for his snapchat, and thus began the great dog snap challenge. Anytime either of them saw a dog, they’d take a picture and send it to the other.

Calum was busy with work. Ferrari was ramping things up, and Calum had his head in the game. Because of this, he didn’t have time to go home, even though he wanted to. Which was why he was so excited when Celeste messaged him to tell him she’d be in England when he was there for Round Ten of the championship.

Calum didn't ask too many questions, too excited to see her.

It was an hour before Celeste’s flight to England, and Calum wondered if he should message her. He finally gave in, it was late for him and he knew if he didn’t message her, he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Before he could text her, his phone rang.

He’d had Celeste’s number since they’d met, 45 days ago, not that he was counting, and they’d never called each other.

“Calum! I’m not waking you am i?” Celeste’s voice was worried.

“No, what’s up?”

“Is it okay that I called you?”

“It’s fine, you sound worried.” Calum sat down, eager to give her his full attention.

“Have I ever told you I'm not into flying?” Celeste asked.

Calum chuckled, “no, you never mentioned it.”

“Well, I am, and I don’t know why this is freaking me out so much.”

“I mean, it is a long flight, maybe that’s why?” Calum paused, “you’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Are you my captain Calum?” Celeste asked sarcastically.

“No, but you’ll be fine.” he paused, “hey, when you get here, do you need me to pick you up?”

“No thanks! Harry’s picking me up.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah.”

Calum opened his mouth, then closed it, he wasn’t sure what to say, “I didn't know you were seeing him?” he offered.

“It’s funny, I met him the night before I met you. He actually has been coming to visit me in New York, so I figured it’s my turn to head out to him, and when I saw it would line up with you being there i had to come.”

Calum’s skin was cold. He’d thought she was coming to see him, but as it turned out, he was only fifty percent of the reason. Was he even fifty percent?

“But I’m coming to your race!” Celeste continued, “the training ones and the final one.”

Her terms weren’t correct but Calum couldn’t be bothered to correct her. “Is Harry coming with you too?” Calum asked.

“Yeah, he’ll be around, but I do really want to see you Cal.” there was a muffled sound, then, “they’re boarding so I gotta go. Talking to you really helped Cal. I’ll see you soon! I’m so excited!”

“Me too.” Calum forced out.

“Awesome! Love ya! Bye!”

Calum’s mouth felt dry, his body still frozen, but he managed to say “bye.” then the line clicked and Celeste was gone, but had she ever really been there?

***

He was late. Something that never happened, but he’d been late with Celeste. They’d gone out for drinks her second night England and had stayed up talking and ordering room service until three AM. Calum had lost track of time, another thing he’d never really experienced.

Shoving his legs into his race suit and pulling it up, he ran past a few mechanics, eager to get on the track. He’d had a call early that morning that some rich person had paid a lot of money to have a hot lap with him.

It seemed to be the day of things that had never happened to Calum.

He usually didn’t do hot laps, and Ferrari knew that. There was, allegedly, something special about the person who’d requested him, but that morning, half asleep when his phone rang, Calum had been too tired to ask.

Calum was used to camera’s being shoved in his face and he pushed through them, approaching the signature red car that he’d be using.

“Calum, what’s it like driving one of the most famous British singers in the world?” a reporter asked.

Calum looked up, for the first time getting a glimpse at who he’d be driving around.

Harry Styles looked as Calum always supposed he would. His hair was perfect, and the black jacket he was wearing made him look like he’d come straight out of an Abercrombie and fitch magazine. Or perhaps another magazine, Calum didn’t keep up with fashion.

Then came the dimples.

Calum could have thrown up.

“You must be Calum!” Harry exclaimed, holding out a hand and offering a smile.

Calum shook his hand, hard, not smiling, not saying anything.

Then he remembered the cameras. Remembered that this was his job. Remembered that as the top f1 driver, driving a man with a huge fanbase, the video would probably go viral. Calum forced a smile, “nice to meet you.” he said politely.

“So let's get to it yeah?” Harry asked, his British accent way too charming.

Calum nodded, going around the car to escape the paparazzi. He put his helmet on and took some joy in the fact that Harry would have to do the same, and maybe it would ruin his hair.

There were cameras in the car.

Calum wondered what would happen next.

“Excited for your race, mate.” Harry said, buckling himself in, “you’ve always been the one to watch.”

“Didn’t know you were a big formula one fan.” Calum mused, the engine roaring to life.

“I wasn’t.” Harry admitted, “we have a mutual friend, she got me into it.”

Calum wondered how far Harry would go. After all, there were cameras in the car, and Calum had heard about Harry and his tendency to stay elusive.

That’s when he realized it was serious. The thing between Harry and Celeste.

Harry had spent a lot of money to be in the car with Calum. He was facing the cameras, despite his desire to mostly not produce content.

And he was talking about Celeste.

Calum’s foot stepped onto the petal and the car lurched forward. He hoped that Harry wouldn’t talk anymore. Hoped it would be a quiet ride.

“How did you two meet again?”

“What?”

“Our mutual friend.”

Calum wished he’d just say her name. But he understood why Harry was being aloof. Understood it protected Celeste from being prematurely exposed to his fan base, for better or for worse.

Calum respected it.

“Met in Monaco. She mentioned it was the day after she met you.” Calum said, making a point to mention Harry. He supposed it would ease Harry’s mind, knowing Celeste had mentioned him… even if it had only been a few days earlier. Calum pushed the car faster and then braked hard for a corner, throwing Harry to the side.

“That was a good race by the way.” Harry said, “You came in first, congratulations.”

“I like Monaco.” Calum said, “it’s a special place.”

“It is.” Harry agreed. Calum couldn’t be sure, but Harry seemed satisfied with their interaction. Calum wasn’t sure what he expected, after all, it’s not like the guy was going to come out and be aggressive with him… even if that’s what Calum might have done in his position.

The rest of the drive went smoothly, with Harry complimenting Calum’s driving and even letting out happy hollers at sharp turns.

As the car came to a stop, Harry turned to shake Calum’s hand, “maybe I'll see you tonight.” Harry offered.

“Maybe.” no way in hell.

One last smile and the gorgeous man was gone, out of Calum’s car and hopefully his life.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out?”

“Yeah, I need sleep tonight, the race is tomorrow-”

“Did… I- Harry told me about this morning, said he was eager to meet you, did you like him?”

“He’s fine, I’m just tired.” Calum lied.

Celeste was silent on the other end of the line for a moment, “but tomorrow night, we’re still on, right?”

When she’d first arrived and they’d gotten drinks, Calum had promised to do the same thing after the race. But when he’d promised he’d assumed it would be just the two of them. Calum didn't want to go anymore, “yeah.” he said.

“Okay, because I had a lot of fun last night Cal. Anyways, have a good night, get some sleep, you’re going to be great tomorrow.”

“You promise?” Calum asked.

“I’m your captain, I definitely promise.” Celeste laughed, the sound was magic, “love ya Cal! Talk tomorrow!”

“Love you too.”

He hung up.

***

Celeste’s arms wrapped around him and when Calum lifted her off the ground, her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, “you did it!” she screamed in his ear, a little too loud, but he didn’t care.

He set her down and Celeste pulled way, keeping him close as she looked up at him, “that was amazing Calum!”

“It was nothing-” Calum brushed it off, looking down. He could be cocky about his driving, but not with her. With Celeste, his heart always seemed to swell.

“Calum, you hit every single apex!” Celeste said and Calum’s heart fluttered even more.

She’d learned a term used in F1.

He didn’t even know what to say so he just looked down at her, unable to stop smiling.

“Harry’s not coming, by the way, he had to go back to London for work.” Celeste said, finally pulling away from Calum, “so it’s just us tonight!”

Calum let out a breath, smile widening, “so where are we headed?”

He didn't care that other drivers were probably going to celebrate at a specific location. He only cared about taking every moment with Celeste…. As friends of course.

Of course….

Who was he kidding, Calum knew he was walking a fine line. Part of him wondered what would happen when she came to England… before he’d found out about Harry. And although those ideas were no use anymore, he’d be damned if he didn’t still take advantage of their time together.

“Let's get drinks?” Celeste suggested.

Calum smiled, “sounds perfect.”

***

Calum stared up at the ceiling and Celeste rolled onto her side to look at him. Calum smiled, turning to look at her too, “what?”

“I’m just…” Celeste studied him, “I haven't really had any guy friends before. All the guys I know try to be my friend just to get me in bed. And we’re here and you’re not trying anything.”

Calum coughed awkwardly, sitting up, “well, you’re seeing Harry.”

Celeste rolled onto her back, hair fanning over the pillow, “yeah.”

“How is that going? You didn’t talk much about him last time we hung out.” it was true. They’d been together for hours and Celeste hadn’t mentioned him once.

Celeste took a deep breath, “I really like him. I think. I don’t know. When I was a teenager and he was in One Direction he was huge. And, like every other teenage girl on earth, I was definitely a fan of his. Being with him feels… well, it’s odd. He’s a great guy but I almost feel like I enjoy the grandeur of him. I enjoy the Harry that I know from social media…” there was a pause, then, “fuck, this is why I’m trying not to get drunk anymore. I always want to talk about philosophy and end up confusing myself even more. Forget I said anything, I’m being stupid.”

Calum looked at her, watching the way her chest rose and fell. Her eyes were closed. She was frowning.

It was the most vulnerable he’d ever seen her.

Calum laid down next to her, “I'm sure you’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll probably just do what I always do, stick with it until something really bad happens, then run away.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy.” Calum stated.

Celeste smiled, “Never said it was.” she yawned, “can I stay here tonight?”

“Sure… do you need me to build a pillow wall like last time?” Calum teased.

“For your protection or mine?” Celeste flirted, but Calum knew it was just for the sake of teasing, her expression changed, “why did you have to make a pillow fort last time?”

“You asked for one.”

“So you just built me one?”

“Of course.”

“You’re really sweet, has anyone ever told you that?” Celeste asked, pulling the covers over her body.

“No.”

“Well, people should tell you you’re sweet more often.” Celeste’s eyes were closed and from the wispy tone of her voice, Calum knew she was about three seconds from falling asleep.

“Goodnight Celeste.”

“Goodnight Cal.”

***

Calum stared at the deep-fried chicken on top of waffles. Celeste looked like a kid in a candy shop and Calum was shocked she’d even found a place that served her favourite breakfast. She looked adorable, having stolen one of his Ferrari hats and a shirt.

It was big on her, but he loved it.

“Cal, can you take a pic of me and my waffles?” Celeste asked, handing him her phone.

“Sure.” he said, adjusting the camera as Celeste made a face, tongue out, fingers up in peace signs.

He took a few pictures, smiling down at them before he handed the phone back.

“Do you mind if I tag you?” Celeste asked, “I mean, I am the new Ferrari spokesperson after all.” she joked, flipping the hat so it was backwards.

“Sure.”

He watched her. She was so focused on making the post, it was her job after all.

Calum wondered if Harry would mind that she was tagging him. But… as was plainly obvious, he was just Celeste’s friend.

Sitting there, across from the gorgeous model, Calum decided he’d be just that: a friend. He’d be there for her always, or as long as she wanted him around. He’d take her out for waffles and make blanket forts and support her, even if it meant supporting her with another man.

He’d be whatever she needed him to be. And if that was simply a friend, so be it.

***

“Can you believe you’re almost done the world championship?” Celeste asked.

Calum smiled. It had been five months since they’d met. This championship had felt particularly long for some reason, “miss me already?” Calum teased.

He’d been coming back to New York on his time off as much as he could. He was living for the nights he and Celeste spent at the bar they should have met in. The bar that, if he’d had the balls, could have been where they’d met months before. Could have been where they had their first date-

“Of course I do Cal!” Celeste said, “fuck, I wanted to tell you once you got here, but, I can’t hold it in anymore!”

Calum’s skin felt cold and anxiety overcame it. She’d been getting more and more excited about Harry and any time she had news, Calum was scared what it would be.

“Harry and I are getting married.”

Calum’s mouth was dry, when he opened his mouth to speak it hurt and he had to swallow thickly, giving him the time to think, “congratulations.”

“You’ll come right?”

“When is it?” Calum asked, worried by the eagerness in her voice.

Celeste and Harry had just come out as a couple a month earlier, when he’d taken her to an event. Calum hadn’t looked at the pictures but Celeste had sent him snaps of her dress before she went, and Calum had been so upset he’d gone to a gym to punch things.

“Harry wants it soon, weird right? I didn’t think he was the marriage type.”

Calum bit his tongue. He’d never brought up the night in England when Celeste had told him she worried about why she was with Harry. He wanted to bring it up.

He chose not to.

“Anyways, next month I think?”

Calum’s chest hurt.

“So you’re coming right?” the hope in her voice made it worse.

“I’ll be there.” Calum choked out, “I have to go.”

“Aw really?”

“Yeah, sorry, talk later?” Calum collapsed into his bed.

“Good luck in your race tomorrow. Last one, then you’re coming home.”

Home. He’d wondered before if home was a feeling. He’d felt it every time he was in the bar with Celeste, or grabbing waffles, or with her staring at the stars or even the ceiling.

He wondered if he’d ever feel home again.

***

Alexa looked at Calum. He’d not been impressed to be there. Every time Celeste came out in a new white dress, he’d put on a big happy face, but as soon as Celeste was gone he’d frown again, sitting back and sighing.

“Aren’t you happy for her?” Alexa asked. She’d heard about Calum and Celeste being good friends. Hell, part of Alexa wondered if Calum had surpassed her on the friend scale. Not that Alexa had minded, she was busy and working in LA more and more, which made it harder to keep up with Celeste.

“Yeah. Of course.” Calum said.

“You don’t look happy.” Alexa pointed out.

Before Calum could respond, Celeste called for Alexa’s help and Alexa disappeared. Calum pulled out his phone, opening Celeste’s Instagram. The newest picture was one he’d taken. Celeste bending over the pool table to take a shot. She’d kicked his ass that night, and Calum smiled sadly, wondering if she’d still be up for dodgy bar nights after she was married.

Movement caught his eye and he looked up.

Celeste was standing there in the new wedding dress. It had a form-fitting corset that showed off her curves. Plain white and silky with harsher lines rather than a softly rounded neckline. Beautiful tulle layers of soft white fabric puffed out from under the corset.

She looked like a princess.

Calum’s heart leaped in his chest and he looked at her with eyes that betrayed everything… to Alexa, who was watching him carefully.

“What do you guys think?” Celeste asked, spinning.

“It’s the one.” Calum stated.

“I agree.” Alexa nodded.

Celeste beamed, her whole body alight with happiness as she looked at him, “I think so too.”

Celeste turned to go back into the changeroom and Alexa caught Calum’s eye, she frowned at him and Calum looked away.

Alexa felt bad for Calum, and as she helped Celeste out of the dress, Alexa also realized how much respect she had for the man. He’d said he was coming to the wedding. Alexa wondered if that was true.

***

He couldn’t do it.

He had to do it.

Calum sighed, leaning over the sink and splashing water onto his face. When he stood up, the face looking back at him in the mirror seemed put together.

Calum wished it was true.

The door to the bathroom opened and Alexa peeked her head in, “Cal?”

“This is the men’s bathroom.” Calum said, upset that she was disrupting him when he needed time alone.

“Celeste wanted me to come check on you.”

The anger in Calum’s shoulders disappeared and he took a deep breath, turning to Alexa, “I’m fine.” he lied.

Alexa stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, “you’re at your best friend's rehearsal dinner the night before her wedding. Your best friend, who I might add, you’re in love with.”

Calum swallowed thickly, he wasn’t sure what to say.

“It’s okay to admit it to someone Calum.” Alexa said, “I'm sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Calum sighed, running a hand through his curls, “it’s my own fucking fault.”

“It’s not.”

“It is. I should have said something.”

“When?”

“I don’t know.” Calum said, voice rising, “but I should have. Before the wedding, before the engagement, before-” he cut himself off, turning to rest his hands on the sink again, head bowed, “it doesn’t matter.”

“If it’s any consolation, I think you’re a really great guy.” Alexa said. There was a pause, then the bathroom door opened.

Celeste stuck her head in, eyes drifting between Alexa and Calum. For a moment she was expressionless, then she smiled, “what are you two up to?”

“Just talking.” Alexa said, “Calum needs to tell you something.”

Celeste entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She looked radiant as ever, in a soft lavender silky dress that Calum longed to touch. It lit up the green of her eyes and the tanness of her skin and Calum’s mouth went dry looking at her.

It had hurt to spend the whole dinner seated next to her, watching her laugh with Harry. Calum could barely stand it anymore.

“So…” Celeste said, “what’s up?” she looked between Alexa and Calum again.

“I’m going to give you two privacy.” Alexa said, quickly leaving.

Celeste turned to Calum, concern on her face, “is something wrong?”

Calum’s heart was nearly beating out of his chest. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Celeste waited patiently, searching his face for a sign of what was to come.

This was the time to say it. The time to tell her how he felt.

He couldn’t do it.

Couldn’t bear the thought of making her upset, two days before her wedding.

“You’re not coming to the wedding are you?” Celeste frowned.

“No.” Calum breathed out before he could stop himself. He wouldn’t have said it on his own, wouldn't have brought it up, but now that she had… now that she was verbalizing it, he realized there was no way in hell he’d be able to go. Celeste’s eyes were welling with tears and Calum was quick to wipe them away before they could drip down her chin and tarnish her dress, “hey, it’s not you, I uh- work.”

The lie also slipped out before he could stop it. He couldn’t make her think it was her fault. Couldn’t tell her the truth.

“Work called.” he said, sounding more certain, “there’s a new thing they’re trying on my car so I have to get on a plane.”

“You’re flying out?” Celeste asked in confusion, “but your tournament just ended? I thought you were home for good? I planned the wedding so you could come-”

Calum’s heart broke at her words. He brushed more tears away from her face, hands cupping her cheeks. Celeste grabbed his wrists, looking up at him with those big green eyes.

His voice cracked when he spoke, “I’m sorry.”

Celeste moved his hands away from her face and hugged him, her body pressed against his front. Calum’s arms wrapped around her, “you’re going to have a great wedding.” he said, voice hoarse, “big and white and just what you wanted.”

Celeste cried harder and Calum wanted to go outside and crash his ferrari into a wall.

The door to the bathroom opened and Harry peaked his head in, immediately entering when he saw Celeste crying, “What happened?!” Harry asked.

Celeste pulled away from Calum and stepped instead into Harry’s arms, not saying anything as she cried.

“I got called in for work so I can’t make the wedding, I'm flying out tonight.” Calum said. It was easier to lie to Harry, “Celeste is upset I won't be there.”

Harry studied Calum for a moment, then he nodded, “I'm sorry you can’t make it.”

“Me too.” he paused, “I'll go grab Alexa, she’ll have makeup, I don't want to ruin your night-”

“When are you leaving?” Celeste asked suddenly, turning to look at him.

“In two hours.” he lied, eager to have an excuse to leave.

He was glad Celeste was too shocked by the sudden turn of events to ask many questions or prod him for answers. He didn't have any answers. Knew the lies were weak.

Calum turned to leave but Celeste grabbed his hand, “when do you come back?”

“I don’t know.” Calum answered. He didn't know anything.

He’d go to Italy in a few days, that was Ferrari's home base. He’d learn some more Italian so his mechanics could talk to him, he’d-

“Calum?”

“Yeah?”

Celeste opened her mouth then closed it, then opened it again “don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t.” Calum looked at her quizzically, unsure where the sudden warning had come from, “send me pictures from the wedding okay?” he wouldn’t look at them.

Celeste nodded. She said nothing else and neither did Calum.

He left the bathroom, bumping into Alexa in the hallway, “what happened?!” Alexa asked, shocked by the tears that were welling in Calum’s eyes.

“I’m skipping the wedding.”

“Did you tell her you love her?” Alexa whispered, following Calum as he attempted to leave the venue.

“No.”

“So what happened?!”

“Told her I’m leaving the country tonight for work-”

“Calum!” Alexa grabbed his arm and made him stop, looking around to make sure no one was looking at them, “you can’t leave.”

“I’m going to go to Italy-”

“You can’t!” Alexa insisted.

“Why not?” Calum asked, beginning to get angry.

“Just-” Alexa looked around again, voice lowering, “please stay in town. Until after the wedding, then you can go wherever you want, you can be out of here tomorrow night. But… trust me Calum. It’s better if you’re here.”

“Why?”

“I just… I have a feeling.”

“A feeling?” Calum laughed, but there was no humour in it.

“Celeste is my best friend. She’s never said anything to me about you but-” Alexa cut herself off as a server walked by, looking at the two brunettes huddled together in secrecy, “just don’t leave the country. Promise me.”

Calum sighed, “fine. I’ll stay, but I’m getting a ticket for tomorrow night. then I’m gone.”

“Okay.”

Calum studied Celeste’s best friend. Wondered what she was thinking. Wondered what she couldn’t say.

***

Celeste had managed to get herself put together for the remaining rehearsal dinner, it was near done anyways. She’d gone home with Alexa, to the apartment they shared when they were both in the city.

Celeste would be moving out as soon as she returned from her honeymoon and her things were already in boxes, a suitcase packed for the trip Harry had planned to celebrate the wedding.

Alexa watched Celeste mope around. If Alexa didn’t know any better, she would have assumed Celeste had just been dumped.

Except that she hadn’t.

“Your wedding is tomorrow, aren’t you excited?” Alexa asked, passing a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream to her friend.

“Yeah,” Celeste frowned, “but Cal won’t be there.”

“Harry will. That’s what matters right?”

Celeste took a deep breath, “yeah.”

“What are you thinking Celeste?” Alexa asked, a question she’d become accustomed to asking. Celeste didn't open up much, even when prodded.

“I don’t know.” Celeste fell down onto her bed, careful not to drop the ice cream.

Her eyes went to the wedding dress hanging there, then to the picture of her and Calum that they’d taken in Italy months earlier. The two of them at Ferrari HQ where he’d shown her around and explained all the cars to her, talking in mangled Italian to the workers who’d smiled at his attempts.

Celeste groaned loudly, “well. I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“Uh huh.” Alexa didn’t sound too convinced.

***

Celeste paced back and forth, hands on her hips. It was an odd sight but not a surprising one for Alexa who stood there watching the fully dressed bride have a panic attack.

“What time is it?!” Celeste asked suddenly, turning to look at Alexa.

“Eleven forty. wedding is in twenty minutes.”

“Oh my god.” Celeste fell onto a chair, hiding her face in her hands while careful not to smudge her makeup.

“Talk to me Celeste.” Alexa said, kneeling in front of her friend.

Celeste looked at Alexa from behind her fingers, then took a deep breath. For a moment Alexa thought Celeste would actually open up, then her mouth shut, “this is a mess.” Celeste whispered.

Alexa sighed, “Celeste. Is it possible, that the reason you were so upset when Calum left last night, is because you wanted him at the wedding-”

“Of course I want him there!” Celeste frowned.

“But maybe not as someone in the crowd? Maybe as the groom?” Alexa asked.

Celeste looked shocked for a moment, staring at her friend as if she’d just said she believed the earth was flat, “what?”

“You and Calum.” Alexa said softly, “do you love him?”

“Of course I love him.”

“As more than a friend.” Alexa specified.

“I-” Celeste looked distressed, “I’m getting married to Harry-”

“Just answer the question.” Alexa took Celeste’s hand gently.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s gone. He chose work over being at my wedding and left the country last night-”

“He doesn’t have work today, and he didn’t leave the country.”

“What?!”

“He didn't come because he couldn’t stand to see you with Harry anymore.”

“What?!” Celeste said, louder this time.

“He loves you.”

Celeste stood up abruptly and Alexa followed suit. Alexa had expected Celeste to be ranting, but the girl in front of her was oddly silent.

Celeste’s hands were shaking as she pulled out her phone. She hit speaker and the sound of ringing filled the room.

“Celeste? Are you okay?” Calum’s voice was worried.

“You lied.”

“What?”

“You’re still in New York?” her voice cracked. The line was quiet, Celeste bit her lip, “can… can you come, and bring your car please?”

“I-”

“Calum please.” Celeste said.

She’d never been one to beg, but there she was. Begging in her wedding dress.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Please hurry.”

***

Calum got out of the car but it didn’t matter, Celeste was already running down the steps. Her hands clutched the dress, lifting it up as to not dirty it.

She was, in every sense of the word, a runaway bride.

And Calum had never been more in love with her.

He held the door open for the car. He’d chosen the one without a top, it was old but still luxurious. A few girls had told him it was the black version of the car people drove off into the sunset in Grease, but Calum had never fact-checked that claim.

Celeste was beaming. Glowing really. And Calum was smiling back at her, helping her tuck her entire dress into the car before he closed the door and ran to the driver's seat.

The car roared to life, like a battle cry, or perhaps a battle won.

“I need to go to my apartment.” Celeste said and Calum didn’t question it.

She’d yet to tell him anything. But since they were driving away from the church, Calum guessed the wedding was over. He was guilty that it made him happy.

The radio was playing club music, the type of hype music Calum liked to drive to, and Celeste turned it up. Her hair was getting messed up by the air whipping by them but Celeste was laughing, arms in the air.

She looked beautiful. Like a girl going to her wedding, not one running away.

Calum snuck glances at her at the first red light.

He could almost forget about Harry.

Until they drove up to the apartment and Harry was waiting there, leaning against his car. One of his friends was in the driver's seat, but he didn't get out of the car.

The look on Harry’s face was stony and it was obvious to Calum that he knew what was coming. “Calum, I need to talk to him is that okay?”

“Of course.” Calum answered.

Like Harry’s driver, Calum stayed in his car. Watching his best friend, the bride to be, get out and walk towards Harry. They were both dressed for the wedding, and it was odd to see them out on the New York street, even if it was a quiet one.

“Celeste, we need to be at the church-” Harry said.

“Harry, I love you but I can't marry you.” Celeste stated, “and I’m so sorry it took me this long to figure it out.”

Harry was quiet.

“You’re one of the most wonderful people I've ever met.” Celeste continued, “and I needed to tell you this in person, but I can't do this. We’ve only been seeing each other for six months and we’re rushing things, don’t you think we’re rushing things?”

Harry sighed but nodded, he’d had the feeling too.

“Besides, we’re amazing friends and I do love you Harry, but I’m not in love with you.”

“Not the way you are with Calum.” Harry stated.

It knocked the air out of Celeste’s lungs. It was as if everyone had known her feelings except her, and maybe Calum, “I-”

“It’s okay.” Harry held up a hand, “s’ not like I would have been able to live in New York forever, and you can’t give up your sodding chicken and waffles.”

“Don’t bash the deep-fried chicken and waffles Harold.” Celeste said, faking offense, but then she was smiling and so was Harry.

“Come here.” Harry said, opening his arms.

They hugged and Celeste was happy neither of them were crying. It showed that this was right.

“I’m not going to deal with wedding guests.” Harry mused while pulling away.

“Me neither.” Celeste said, “we could both just not show up? That sounds like a good song.”

“You have left me with a lot of material.” Harry laughed, “well, I'll see you around Celeste.”

“See you around Harry.” Celeste said fondly, giving the brit one last smile before he got into his car and left. Then she bounded over to the car, leaning down to rest her arms on Calum’s door, “hey.”

“That looked like it went okay.” Calum said.

“It did. So, my bags are packed upstairs for a honeymoon that I’m not going on… what do you say we go somewhere?”

Calum smiled, “where to princess?”

“Take me back to Monte Carlo.”

***

The sound of the hotel room door opening woke Celeste up, her eyes landing on Calum. They’d arrived the night before and had immediately passed out, both too jetlagged to do much. Calum offered her a smile and Celeste stretched, yawning the words “where were you?”

“Wanted to get you breakfast but I didn't think the stuff downstairs was up to your standards.” Calum said, leaning on a wall. He wasn’t sure where to stand.

They were in Monaco.

They’d talked and watched movies the entire flight but neither had brought up the wedding.

He wasn’t sure where he stood with her. Wasn’t sure what he was allowed to ask.

Celeste could feel his awkwardness as she studied him. Then she stood up, adjusting the Ferrari shirt she was wearing. “Calum?”

“Hm?”

“Come here?”

Calum smiled softly, uncrossing his arms over his chest, he took a few steps forward. Celeste held out her arms and pulled Calum to her, looking up at him, “Calum. Do you know I love you?”

“Yeah.” Calum said, he’d heard it many times, after every phone call, after every ride he gave her home after a hangout.

“Do you know I'm in love with you?”

Calum’s breath caught in his chest and he wet his lips, mind racing. The thought that he was the reason for her ditching her wedding had crossed his mind but he’d pushed it to the side, instead deciding to be, as always, Celeste’s friend.

“Calum?” Celeste breathed his name, brushing her fingers over his cheekbone.

Instead of speaking he kissed her.

He’d gone so long not saying the words ringing through his brain, they could wait a little while longer.

His lips were soft on Celeste’s at first, hesitant, as if he was afraid she would pull away. Only when Celeste wrapped her arms around the back of his neck did he get more comfortable, one hand cupping her face while the other went to her waist, pulling her closer.

Calum pulled away and his entire body shuddered for a moment, in something like pure ecstasy, maybe shock.

Celeste smiled up at him, kissing his lips once more softly, “Are you okay?” she asked.

Calum laughed, returning her grin, he shook his head a little, “I just-” he couldn’t find the right words to explain how he was feeling, Celeste waited patiently and- god, he loved her so much.

She could see it in his eyes.

Calum’s fingers dug into Celeste’s hips and she beamed at him, brushing her fingers against his cheeks. She could feel what was unsaid and almost appreciated it more because he couldn’t find the words to say it. She’d always had a connection with Calum that seemed to be on another level, and moments like this confirmed it to her.

Moments like this. She enjoyed the thought of that, of more to come.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” Celeste teased, eyes darting down to look at his lips then up at him again.

Calum kissed her, not as hesitant as the first kiss. His hands went to her waist immediately, one of them dipping down to just above her bum. His fingers bunched in the red fabric and the cool air met Celeste’s ass. She was in a thong, Calum hadn't noticed yet because she’d been covered by the shirt since the night before, but when his hand dipped a little lower, he groaned into her mouth and Celeste knew he’d discovered the flimsy fabric covering her.

His hand kneaded her ass harshly, and Celeste smiled against his lips, loving the way it felt, loving the way Calum was groaning in anticipation. Celeste pressed against his front, already able to feel his hard on straining his grey sweats.

Then Celeste pulled away and Calum let her go, eyes opening questioningly.

Celeste pulled off the Ferrari shirt Calum had given her, revealing her near nudity underneath. Calum licked his lips, eyes focused on her chest. Then Celeste sat down onto the bed, her thick thighs looking deliciously curvy and grabable, Calum couldn’t hold himself back. He was between her legs before he could help himself, kneeling on the floor and tearing off her black silk thong.

“Calum!” Celeste laughed, fingers tangling in his curls. She’d not expected him to be so eager, expected him to go for kissing first. She had no idea how long he’d been waiting to taste her.

Calum’s fingers danced over Celeste’s calf and he moved it to be on his shoulder, his lips trailing up higher and higher. He kissed both thighs, nipping a little at the skin, fingers digging in as he held her in place.

“So pretty.” he mused, more to himself than anything.

Her fingers gripped his curls when his lips finally met her, wrapping around her clit. He’d had enough buildup. Enough teasing. He wanted to hear her moaning his name, wanted to watch her come undone under him.

The first moan was soft, more like a whimper, and Calum’s whole body felt like it was lit in flame. He sucked harder on her clit, fingers digging into her delicious thighs where they were on his shoulders. Her skin was warm and smelled like flowers, he wondered how she always smelled so good.

Celeste’s eyes were closed, lips parted, sinful, soft noises whispered into the cosmos as her lover devoured her.

Her lover… yes, that is what he was.

Calum was her lover in every sense of the word. It had just taken her a long time to realize it. He did everything for her and as he brought her to her first high, her heart filled with love. Love that had always been there, unidentified and growing. Now that she knew what it was, she was never going to let him go.

Calum licked his lips, looking up at Celeste. Her eyes were still closed, chest rising and falling softly as she chased her breath. He took her legs off of his shoulders and Celeste opened her eyes, looking down at him with a lazy smile. A comfortable smile. As if they’d done this a thousand times, “hi.” she said, voice near a whisper.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Her smile widened, “come here.” she said, instead of answering his question.

Calum moved to be on the bed with her, settled between her legs that wrapped around his waist.

He kissed her shoulder first, then her collarbone, moving up her neck before he reached her lips. When he kissed her, he kissed her gently. One of his hands came up to brush over her nipple, earning a soft shudder from Celeste that made him smile against her lips. “You’re so beautiful.” he told her, kisses traveling to her neck as she wrapped her arms around him, a sigh of content leaving her lips, “fucking love you.” he murmerred.

Celeste’s skin felt warm and her heart lurched in her chest. She knew he loved her, but hearing him say it was different. She brought his lips back to hers and kissed him like her life depended on it, part of her thought it did.

The pressure of his hard, clothes cock, against her sensitive entrance had her moaning within seconds, eager to get rid of Calum’s clothes. Soon, his Ferrari shirt has joined the one she was wearing on the floor and his joggers following soon after.

“I wanna top.” Celeste said against Calum’s lips and he paused, giving her a look but agreeing. He got onto his back and watched her straddle him, lining herself up with him. She sank down slowly, both of them groaning at the way it felt.

He had to admit it was a beautiful view. The first bounce had her breasts moving in a way that made Calum’s mouth water. His hands reached up to cup her breasts and Celeste moaned, continuing to bounce up and down on him.

Calum hadn’t had many religious experiences in his life.

This was one of them.

One of his hands went down to her ass, giving it a test smack that made Celeste laugh, her eyes opening. Her hands went to his chest and she leaned over him, kissing his neck while she continued bouncing up and down. He could see the way her ass was moving with each bounce and Calum groaned, eyes closing as he enjoyed the way it felt.

He was usually the top, usually the one doing all the work. It was nice to just lay back and relax and be doted on, especially since he loved her. Every kiss made him tingle and his heart was racing in his chest.

He felt the way he always felt after a race. It was exhilarating.

His arms wrapped around Celeste, slowing her motions so he could roll them so he was on top. The pace he wanted was faster than the one she had been giving him, and now it was his turn to make her feel good.

She looked so beautiful under him, and the feeling of her breasts pressed against his bare chest did not go unnoticed. He wanted to be kissing her, touching her, loving her.

He angled his hips differently, hitting a spot inside of her that had Celeste’s legs tightening around his waist, “holy shit.” she breathed, moaning loudly.

Her fingers went to his curls again, tugging lightly at the dark strands. Their lips were passionate and slow against each other, tongues clashing, teeth biting. Then Calum grabbed one of her hands, interlocking their fingers as he pressed it down into the bed.

“I’m gonna-” Celeste began but Calum cut her off with his lips, pace quickening.

The whole bed was moving with each thrust, and Celeste’s whines were getting louder as he kissed her. He could feel her fluttering around him, a sign of her impending high. Celeste squeezed Calum’s fingers tight, high whimpers stopping as her whole body tensed, orgasm hitting her.

She was so tight around him that Calum came too, thrusts getting sloppy as they rode out their highs. Their kisses were open-mouthed, both of them moaning into each other's mouths.

When they were both done, Calum stopped gripping her hand so hard, instead, he pressed soft kisses over her face. “Fuck, I love you.” he whispered.

Celeste smiled up at him, “I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

***

The usual patrons of the bar watched the gorgeous couple play pool.

She was dressed in red, a colour she’d adopted to support her boyfriend. The colour made her glow, but her boyfriend’s smile was brighter. He watched her with complete adoration, even when she sunk a ball and got one step closer to beating him.

They were the same people they’d been when they were strangers.

He’d quit smoking, claiming he didn't need the high anymore, after all, he was with the love of his life. He still sometimes brought a cigarette or two to give to the bouncers, chatting with them outside before joining Celeste in the bar.

Celeste still played pool with girls who challenged her, but this time, Calum would come to stand behind her. Watching, his arms looped around his girlfriend, enjoying the way she chatted to the girls like they were old friends.

But they were happier, elevated versions of themselves. They’d always dazzled before, but together, they were an unstoppable force. They had the type of happiness people could only dream of.

Calum had always heard that if you dated your best friends, things would be okay.

With Celeste, his best friend, in his arms, he knew it was true. Her smile was contagious, it always had been. Watching her dance away, her dress teasing him, Calum was thankful for everything that had happened.

There’d been a time he hated himself for not talking to her, but it had led him to where they were now. He’d never believed in fate.

He did now.

********

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crimsonheart01 · 6 years

Text

The Perfect Ending (Nestor x OC/Reader)

On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, Nestor caught under the mistletoe

Word Count: 2,028

Playlist: Perfect Christmas - S Club 7

I chewed on a piece of licorice as Emily went on and on about our old school ritual involving mistletoe. It wasn’t anything special. All we did was hang a bunch from our dorm room door and if you didn’t kiss the person in the frame with you, were subjected to a ridicule concocted by all the remaining roommates.

There was one year where I had to wear my bras over my shirt for a week, or the year we made Emily dye her hair green and red. It was our own way to celebrate the holidays and dare each other to do outrageous things at the same time. It was always all in good fun and if someone was really not into it, we never forced them to participate.

“I don’t care about tradition, you try and get me under the mistletoe and I will punch you.” I warned.

Emily laughed, “You don’t scare me.”

“Oh, of course not. Not now that you’re a cartel wife.” I teased.

We laughed together over the phone, until I heard her name being called in the distance.

“Please babe,” She pleaded, “I haven’t seen you in years and Miguel asked personally to invite you. I think he misses your wild partying ways.”

I rolled my eyes, “It was one time and we were in college. He’s at fault too. He’s the one that suggested tequila.”

“Either way, we both want to see you.” I could hear the smile in her voice.

I sighed, “Alright. I’ll check flight prices tonight and let you know.”

She clapped and let out a happy cheer, “Amazing! I’ve got to go now. Dita needs me for something.”

We hung up at the same time, neither of us one for goodbyes. I flipped open my laptop and started searching for the cheapest flight I could find. I wasn’t going to let Emily try and pay for me to come and visit. I didn’t care how much money Miguel made. It was a matter of pride. I wanted to be able to get there on my own.

~(MMC)~

Miguel hung up the phone, a smirk in place. Emily had just confirmed with him that her best friend from college was going to be in town for their annual Christmas party. He fondly recalled the night where they managed to finish off a bottle of tequila between them. She was always a joy to have around, and knew how to have a good time.

He was tired of the stuffy parties they always ended up having. After this past year he knew Emily needed to let off steam. They had Cristobal back, Los Olivadados was his partner, and Alvarez was second in command. The only thing that wasn’t running smoothly was his friendship with Nestor.

He knew Nestor well. He would never let it show but he took a hard hit at the news of Alvarez taking Devante’s place. It wasn’t anything against Nestor, he just needed someone who knew the game from the MC’s perspective. Alvarez was an asset he couldn’t pass up.

Together Miguel and Emily had devised a plan. He knew Nestor needed a distraction, something to keep him from focusing on any negativity. He neede Nestor in peak performance. He was still head of security. Miguel was worried that if he spent too long focused on his decision not to promote him then it would hinder his clarity in the position he was in.

That’s were Emily’s best friend came in. She was a wild card. Something Nestor wasn’t used too. She’d give him a run for his money. Something to think about. Something to distract him.

“What are you smiling about?” Nestor asked.

Miguel turned to his oldest friend, having forgotten where he was.

“Emily just confirmed a few details of the party with me.” Miguel deflected, “I need you to be there.”

Nestor deadpanned him. He wasn’t one for staunch-y Christmas parties.

Miguel chuckled, “As security.” Nestor deflated in relief but Miguel had one more point to make, “You’ll need to be dressed the part though. Black tie.”

Miguel watched as Nestor ground his teeth together. Miguel had to hide his laughter. If Nestor only knew what was in store for him.

~(MMC)~

I leaned in the archway, a flute of champagne hanging between my fingers. I sighed. This might have been the most boring party I’d ever been too. I swirled the drink around, watching the crowd in front of me. I thought about making a run for it, but there wasn’t anywhere for me to go. I was a guest in this house, I couldn’t leave their party. That would be rude.

As I was considering my options, someone came to a stop next to me. I glanced over and raised my eyebrows. He was adorable. Sexy and adorable. Two adjectives that didn’t generally go together, but he pulled it off. I smirked, he was very concerned with keeping his eyes forward. He was either purposely trying not to look, or he was distracted by something else.

Either or, didn’t matter to me. I wasn’t going to let him walk away without at least letting him know I was attracted to him. Lust at first sight as it were.

“Well aren’t you a tall drink of water.” I commented.

He didn’t stir. His eyes kept straight, observing the entire room. I drank him in. Everything from the braids to the double gun holster he was wearing. It was obvious he was working security or something of that sort. He wore all black, right down to his socks and boots. I liked it. Simple and effective.

I raised my drink to my mouth and tilted my head back to drain the liquid when I noticed something hanging in the middle of the archway, above our heads.

“That bitch.” I swore into my glass.

Tall, dark and handsome whipped to face me. His eyes followed mine and both of us were staring at the mistletoe. He arched an eyebrow and I didn’t even bother to contain the annoyance on my face.

“I’m going to kill her.” I mumbled to myself.

Out of the corner of my eye I watched as the man next to me reached for his gun. It was a slow progression, as if he was a bit confused about what was happening. I breathed in and opened my mouth to deter him. I wasn’t here to actually kill anyone. I was speaking figurate. However, I was saved having to give any explanation by hearing Emily’s laughter bubble up.

“I see you’ve found the mistletoe.” She grinned. I moved to take a step forward but she held up a hand, “I wouldn’t if I were you. You remember the rules?”

“Do you remember what I said on the phone?” I retorted.

She winked, “Punch me later. Or thank me. Whichever.”

She turned on her heel and disappeared into the next room. I scrunched up my nose. The woman was going to be the death of me. I looked back at ‘Braids’ and he was glancing down at me. I shrugged, downed my champagne and swung my arm around his shoulder. I gripped the back of his neck and tugged him down to my level.

Even in my heels I had to stretch onto my tiptoes. Before I was able to plant one on him, he tugged backwards and stared at me.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“You heard her.” I said, “There are rules. We have to follow them.”

He shook his head, “I don’t know the rules.”

I grinned, “Doesn’t matter. Kiss me.”

His eyebrows shot into his hairline and he smiled incredulously. He didn’t stop to pause for long before he was meeting me half way. Our lips met and electricity shot through me. I had no idea to know if he felt it too, but my body melted. I sagged against him, feeling as his arm slid across my lower back. He held me closer to him.

I let my fingers scratch at his neck and felt the shiver it sent down his spine. I grinned against his mouth and he reciprocated. I pushed hard into him, using my other hand to fist into his shirt. Getting carried away, I nipped on his lower lip. He opened his mouth in response and with a tentative taste, our tongues met.

He took control, exploring how far I’d let him go. I reacted positively eliciting a tiny moan. He delved his free hand into my hair. His fingers massaging against my scalp. I pushed against him, nearly knocking him backwards. We teetered for a moment before he caught out balance and held me still in front of him.

“Nestor,” Miguel spoke, popping our bubble, “I see you’ve met our special guest.”

We pulled apart. Nestor – as I just learned – tried to let go but I kept my arms around him. I wasn’t letting this man go. Not after a kiss like that. Nestor looked guilty as he met Miguel’s eyes. I arched one eyebrow, having caught on to the little power play.

“You planned this.” I interrupted.

Miguel chuckled, “You were always quick.”

I pouted in thought, “What I want to know is how many other people did you force to kiss under this monstrosity?” I waved a hand up at the mistletoe above us, “Also how did you manage to get us both under here at the same time. What if I was under here with you? Or Emily for that matter?”

Miguel laughed and Emily’s joined in a second later. She slipped her arm through Miguel’s and patted her hand against his forearm. I let go of Nestor, allowing him to straighten out.

“Was I even meant to be doing security?” Nestor inquired.

Miguel shrugged, “No, but how else would I have gotten you here?”

I nodded, rolling my lips together. If they wanted to play it this way, then I’d step up. I grabbed Nestor’s hand, twining my fingers between his. He gazed down at me and I smiled at him. I tilted my head in the direction of the kitchen.

“Come on.” I goaded, “If they wanna play games, then let’s beat them at their own competition.” I tugged him along with me shouting behind me, “There better be tequila hidden somewhere in those cupboards.”

“Bottom left, next to the fridge.” Miguel called back.

Nestor laughed. He was in shock, but that wasn’t going to stop him from enjoying his night. Especially seeing as Miguel didn’t even need him to be working anyways. We reached the kitchen and Nestor, knowing his way around better than I did, grabbed four shot glasses while I bent to grab the Ley .925.

I smirked knowing that this particular tequila was the most expensive one in Mexico. Maybe in the world. Nestor lent me his hand, and I grabbed it as he helped hoist me back up. I licked my lips, and winked at him. He gave me a knowing grin. I handed him the bottle and he stopped for a split second. He recognized the brand as well.

“Don’t worry about it.” Emily said.

We both looked over to see her and Miguel smiling. I shook my head. The tequila was planted. It appeared that Miguel was trying for a repeat of that night so many years ago. I laughed and turned to Nestor, sliding the glasses in front of him. Having his permission, he popped the cork out and began pouring.

The four of us all took a glass.

“To happy endings!” Miguel toasted.

Nestor slipped his hand around my hips and tugged me towards him. I looked up at him and he smiled, “To happy beginnings!”

We all cheered and downed out shots. The second my glass was away from my mouth; Nestor was covering it his tongue searching. I opened up to him, tasting the alcohol on him. We could both hear Miguel and Emily cheering us on, but neither of us cared. We were too wrapped up in each other.

It may have been a dirty plan, but in the end it worked.

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onegirllis · 6 years

Note

Have you really gone through episode 2 of LIS2? I really wonder what you think about it. Better, of course, the full answer.

I finished it indeed. The episode is about 3-4h long, depending on how much you want to explore and how much time it would take for you to find a way out. I was battling with the idea of sharing my thoughts because it’s very hard to judge just a slice of the story, instead of the whole season, but why the hell not. Maybe I will read it when episode 5 comes out and see how wrong I was.

So, without further ado, here’s my review of episode 2, but please be aware it includes a lot of spoilers. It’s also as honest as possible, although it’s my personal opinion only. And yes, it may be harsh, not sugarcoated, but sincere.

MY REVIEW OF EPISODE 2 OF LIFE IS STRANGE 2

Call me naive, but I really had hopes. I really did. I didn’t like ep1, it was way too slow for my taste, with some dramatic moments that felt off, but overall I assumed that it might be just an exposition, an introduction to the world, the characters and their problems, and that the game would elaborate on everything else later. Sometimes the beginnings feel off and it gets better later, so that’s why I had some hopes (not super high) that ep2 of LIS2 will remind me of why this game even belongs to LIS franchise and why I should play the whole season.

Well, it didn’t work out.

Characters

Again, It’s my opinion only but I don’t feel that there are any character developments whatsoever. Daniel and Sean didn’t learn anything freezing their asses off in the mountains. They didn’t change their ways, not learning patience nor being careful. There is no tension between them or any quarrel about the events. The acceptance of their fate is understandable, but not helping with the lack of overall tension. The moments of calm, that usually gave the player the opportunity to know more about the main character’s inner thoughts, instead serve the purpose of a summary of the few previous scenes and nothing more. It almost feels like the writers don’t like the PC and don’t want to tell us more about Sean, because there is absolutely nothing worth telling. Remember the girl Sean was in love with in ep1? Never mentioned again. Remember his friends, his boss, his job, school, or sports he was interested in? He doesn’t mention them either. There is nothing in the journal or in the dialogues that would show us anything we don’t already know or wouldn’t assume by ourselves, and Sean’s insights seem more like repetitive whinings than anything impactful. In episode 1 I could wave off the fact that they decided to walk to Mexico being shocked, traumatized and lost. In episode 2, when they notoriously risk their lives or reject any other solution not learning from experience just to run away, you start questioning their sanity. I know the reason behind it - “oh plot” but “oh plot” is not good enough.

The boys miss their dad, but don’t feel much upset or don’t present any sign of emotional trauma. There are no breakdowns and the brothers are more or less in good spirits staying optimistic, not asking themselves a single question about the future. Comparing to Chloe who was repeating “I wish Rachel was here” over and over and was living in this trauma the whole time, they don’t seem very much impacted by the events, but on the other hand, they place the dad’s photo on the table, so his death can be conveniently mentioned. The dog died (yes, it’s true, Mushroom is killed off in the first 20 minutes), and even if Daniel is supposedly devastated, it takes him only 5 minutes to shake it off and never mentions this dog again (oh ok, maybe once). If the characters don’t freaking care about this animal, why should I?

It also seems that the characters keep forgetting what the objective is here. Maybe it’s on purpose, but they recall certain friends only when it’s convenient for the plot. “I’m gonna call Lyla” says Sean towards the end of the episode, even if he hadn’t mentioned her for 2 hours of gameplay. And even when getting devastating news about her, he is not really concerned, shrugs and sighs deeply. Yeah, we sigh with him.

When it comes to Sean himself, I really don’t mind the PC being a guy, really. If I had a problem with it, I wouldn’t be able to play 90% of video games. The thing I do have a problem with though, is Sean being an utter asshole. Yeah, he takes care of his brother and all, but he is freaking mean to his grandparents, showing lack of empathy and acceptance of a different point of view. Calling the grandma, a woman who opened her house to them “an old bat” is just a bit too much, especially after a month spent in an abandoned house without food or heating. There is no reason for him to judge those people so much and if there is a reason, we don’t know the details. How can I emotionally invest in a character that is not opening up to me, the player? Or maybe there is nothing more about Sean, and that’s even worse.

There is a big mystery regarding why their mother left her sons but if you expect any answer while the boys are visiting their grandparents and can snoop around in Karen’s old room, you’d be mistaken. The devs are building the mystery in the typical David Cage style, that one of the characters is about to tell you something “Oh, I will tell you what your mother did..~” and then something happens and we’re left in the dark again. At this point, I expect some explosive explanation of why their mother left the family, but it’s ether drugs, a religious cult or some relationship stuff.

Tragedy Porn

Dear devs, the fact that a lot of people in the fandom are familiar with this term and use it regularly, doesn’t mean you should take it literally. I know that the LIS franchise is about hard choices or difficult situations, but killing kids and small animals left and right is just cheap and really unnecessary. It quickly gets old, just like “the boy who cried wolf” (pun intended) that as some point I don’t even blink when witnessing another digital death. I can’t be devastated by Mushroom’s death, because the dog had less screen time than Sean’s skateboard. I can’t feel sorry for every character (human or not) that you didn’t even give me a chance to feel connected to. I know that you want me to “feel something” but at this point the “feel” changes into “yawn”. Chris AKA Captain Spirit being dead (or almost dead) AGAIN - so I helped the boy just to see him die 1 hour later (I know it’s optional but still)? Lyla in the hospital, the family from the abandoned house being wiped out of the face of the earth because of cancer (at least not a car accident this time), Chris’s mom dead, the boys’ father dead, grandpa almost dying because of the accident… It’s too much. It feels cheap and not impactful. At this point, I will be surprised if you won’t just kill everybody. Who needs people on the West Coast anyway, huh?

I don’t even know if I want to learn more about the boys’ mother since you probably will kill her too.

Politics and Religion

In this episode, politics have been toned down, still visible though and there are a few moments when I literally rolled my eyes. This time the devs decided to say something more about religion since it’s a significant part of life if you live in a small town in America. Maybe it’s just me, but it seems that the power of prayer is being mocked rather than actually shown as somebody’s way of life. Acceptance and tolerance go both ways though.

The boys surprisingly identify themselves as Mexicans, even though they are half Irish and have never been to their father’s homeland. There are a few moments when you are wondering whether they had ever really liked to live in the US, questioning everything around them. Sean, who spent a decent amount of time with his dad on “the road trips” as stated in ep1, seems genuinely surprised that in his country people keep the Bible by their beds, as if he had never been in any motel whatsoever where the Bible is always present, placed on the nightstand or in a drawer. If being religious bothers him, boy, oh boy, you will be hella surprised in Mexico. They also don’t know how to pray, which I find extremely hard to believe. It almost feels like a scene from “Anne of Green Gables” but damn, the girl had a valid reason not to know. They don’t, especially if they identify themselves as Mexicans. We could assume that they were also part of Mexican-American communities and I cannot believe that in THIS WORLD the immigrants from this particular part of the world don’t know how to pray. Although if you expect some deep conversation about God or religion in general, forget it. It’s just there to be there and that’s it.

I don’t want to discuss the articles in the newspaper about “the gentle police officer” that was killed by immigrants because it makes my blood boil.

Against the logic, the brothers are still planning to escape to Mexico and no grown-up is really trying to talk them out of this idea. There are no alternatives provided or discussed except a pat on the back and an offer for a quick stop if even. Even the grandparents are a bit concerned but no one really gives them any real advice, which I find unlikely. The problem is that if anybody would actually give them a piece of real advice, we wouldn’t have a game.

And that’s a problem, isn’t it?

Gameplay

We have a few mini-games and fetch quests like finding bottles in the abandoned house (why always freaking bottles?), the pirate version of dice poker (never brought back again) and drawing. None of those serve any purpose except a filler that you might enjoy but it doesn’t matter if you succeed in them or not, unless the game forces you to succeed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m aware that this particular genre doesn’t usually provide a set of complex challenges in its gameplay, but it seriously looks like LIS2 is throwing us a bone, remembering from time to time that uh, it’s a game, not a movie. Those mini games are not really engaging, not really connected to the plot, but just for… whatever reason, as part of the daily chores.

But it’s a game about choices, you say! Yes, it is, but only some of them really matter and I’m not sure for how long. If you give me a choice to do something or NOT to do it, please consider that I might pick the latter and don’t force me into your favorite path. It happens from time to time and it’s utterly annoying. If you want me to do something, just don’t give me the illusion that I can refuse.

It almost seems that LIS2 turned into a dark alley where you are rewarded for picking the “good, canonical path” and punished for playing it differently than the devs indented. I loved LIS1 for ambiguous choices that I might pick, depending on my personal preferences, not to mention that those choices are made during an emotional moment. I don’t feel I have that opportunity here, just as if somebody who constructed it forgot why LIS was so great and is so loved.

When it comes to dialogue, it is way better than LIS1, regarding how people actually speak. On the other hand, the lines are just there to be there and I can’t recall a single line that would be worth quoting.

And one more thing. Cutscenes. So many cutscenes. The moment when I actually could do something with my controller was a celebration. I don’t mind cutscenes in general, but it almost feels like a movie. A long, boring, super slow movie.

Superpower

 The superpower is mentioned, mostly in rules that Sean is lecturing Daniel about, but it’s non-existent in the gameplay almost at all. It’s drastically different comparing to LIS1, when Max was using her power almost all the time or was a challenge not to use it. Here we know that Daniel can do things but most of the time he conveniently forgets about it or uses it in the wrong moment. I know the game is about education but the superpower itself seems like a plot device, an additional reason to run to Mexico than anything else. They talk more about it than use it. It sounds like a good idea in general and it probably looked great on paper, but at some point I didn’t care about the superpower at all, forgetting that this secret even exists.

Season 1

When it comes to references to season 1, Arcadia Bay, or any character that we know from LIS1, there is almost nothing. Yes, you can find a drawing of ”door to another world” instead of hole to another universe, or graffiti on the wall that Sean and Daniel were here, similar to the famous junkyard thing, but it won’t give you any insight about what had happened to the favorite characters or any glimpse of their fate. There was more about Arcadia Bay in Captain Spirit than the whole LIS2 so far. The devs were damn serious, showing us Arcadia Bay in episode 1, destroyed or not, saying that this is the past. It seems that they don’t want to even refer to this past much and it’s fine, but if you’re hoping for anything, just anything related to LIS1, forget it.

Technical problems

Oh, boy. I’m aware that creating games is not an easy job and a team sport. I know that it’s almost a miracle that some of the titles even got shipped, but episode 2 of LIS2 is probably the MOST BUGGED EPISODE in the history of this franchise. Glitches, problems with sound, teleportation of objects, animations that didn’t work or songs being cut off… I’m not talking about a few mistakes here and there, but it happens all the time. It’s so common it’s an epidemic and you face some technical challenge almost in every scene as if Bethesda was putting this episode together. This episode looks like advanced beta, not a finished product that had been delayed for months. It seems ironic when recalling the posts from the Life is Strange blog about QA teams, one in France and one in Canada, carefully checking every detail and describing how quality was important. Especially in that context, this is really a disaster, however, I didn’t face any technical problem that would make this episode impossible to finish.

What worked

So what’s great about this episode? Does everything suck? Well, of course not. On the upside, the locations are absolutely stunning. You want to explore the town, the houses, play in the snow, dive into the world, even if you don’t expect anything groundbreaking to happen. The level design, in my opinion, is better than in LIS1, more consistent and intriguing. I know a lot of people might disagree with me but somebody put their heart and soul building this environment, creating something really beautiful. Except for the locations, I liked some songs and the music, way more than in ep1, but it’s not as good as in LIS1 or BTS. Better, but not great.

Cassidy

Oh, somebody was reading “Preacher”, weren’t ya? Or is ia reference to “On the road”? A lot of people seem excited about her finally showing up. I have mixed feelings about this character since I’m not sure if I want to discover the world from her perspective. A stoned, hippie-rasta girl, who takes pride in being free and “not owned by any corporation” (except Square Enix hehehe), is maybe a realistic character and I’m not saying that people like her don’t exist here, but I’m on the fence, to be honest. It seems that the devs are trying to establish the next canon ship or something with her being interested in Sean and him actually “liking her” after exchanging 3 sentences, but that really feels off. She seems more like Chloe 2.0 than anything else, but we shall see (in the next 6 months or whenever they will fucking publish the next ep). Plus for fuck’s sake, Sean was into Jenn (I don’t remember her name exactly), and there was Lyla, and then this girl. Dude!

Summary

It was boring. It was extremely freaking boring to the point that I lost my patience to check every single detail or examine every object. I don’t feel any need to replay it, even if the consequences of my choices weren’t great. I’m not curious about different outcomes nor do I want to check if I missed anything. There is not a single scene I want to see or experience again. In my game, Chris died and I don’t really feel the need to replay it and change the outcome since I will never meet him again or even deal with the consequences of his death. The whole road trip setting is intriguing but drastically different to what I loved about Life is Strange - learning more about each character, dwelling deeper into the situation, uncovering a hidden mystery. We won’t learn more about most of those characters (or it doesn’t seem possible) since we just pass them and move on, exchanging a dialogue or two like with a pedestrian on the street. There is a charm to the road trip idea, but then I would have to be extremely interested in the main characters, including the PC, to actually follow their journey closely. In LIS1 I didn’t have to like Max to play the whole thing, curious about Chloe or Rachels’ disappearance. In a road trip setting the two brothers are the core of the story and if you’re not fond of them, it won’t work.

So far it’s not working for me.

#life is strange 2 #review #sean diaz #daniel diaz #life is strange

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nightwingism · 5 years

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5-Years in the Making

So hey, uhm. Hi guys. This isn’t Nightwing related at all, so if you’re following me for that, I’m sorry. This post isn’t the content for you. It’s also VERY long - 5 years long - so if you don’t want to read it, don’t worry about it. It’s also why I’m posting this at 3:13 AM.

I just wanted to take the time and tell a story of my life. Just stuff that has been effecting me since mid 2014. You obviously don’t have to read it. I just wanted to air it out. Get most of it off my chest.

I feel like it’s important to talk about things that hurt you. That effect you. It’s better to do that than to bottle things up inside you. You know? Because if you just keep it bottled up, where’s the healing? If you let it out, maybe you can make room for something better.

That’s my philosophy anyways. The stuff I tell people. And this is me practicing what I preach.

Please don’t try to figure out who people are, or anything like that. I’d like to keep that a secret. Thanks.

In 2014, during my Junior year in High School, both my Uncle and my Grandpa died. My Uncle, who I was named after, died from an 11 month battle with cancer. My Grandpa died due to smoke inhalation during a house fire a month later that destroyed my Grandparent’s house, due to possibly arson caused by a person who was living in the home. This happened during the months of May - July, roughly. If I’m being honest, this time period really blurred together for me, as it happened just so fast. During this time, my maternal side of the family got really close to each other.

I mean, when I talk to other people about family and stuff, we were always abnormally close, but we got even closer during this time. We had a shirt made up and everything “(Blank) Strong” and what not. Over summer, we spent an ungodly amount of time with each other, as a sort of “mending period.” Slept over at each other’s house, never went anywhere and just stayed cooped up in the house. To be able to lean on each other for comfort.

Which was very odd for me, since for the previous 17 years of my life, I was essentially bullied by most of them for showing any kind of emotions, for being too emotional. Verbal, emotional, physical. The normal bullying. I’m the youngest, and a boy, so I guess I was supposed to be this unfeeling, unemotional, robot? So to be expected to let out these emotions was weird. I don’t know. I wasn’t able to do it. It just never felt right for me to express sadness when the pain was so much stronger in others. It was a really hard time, feeling like my feelings were invalid due to others and the fact that I just felt like I couldn’t let them out.

It’s not like I didn’t feel bad, or missed - miss - them. I do. Still do 5 years later. But seeing how hard it was for my mom, dad, siblings, and just that whole side of the family, I felt like I had to kind of just saddle that shit up and put on some kind of front. I don’t know. Like I said, it was a really hard time.

My cousins weren’t much older, but they sure loved to act out the adult stuff. For that week, I went to every single party I could go to. Which was basically all of them. And I got my first taste of the stereotypically “high school parties” and all that comes with it.

I got drunk for the first time, I got high for the first time, I got cross faded for the first time. The whole 9 yards. Turns out? Not a fan of the former and latter - the middle is alright I guess. Being doing the former a lot recently (but that’s a whole different can of worms). So after that, I basically said “nah, not for me. I don’t need that.” Can you really call it cutting it cold turkey if it was only for a week? I guess to just illustrate that point.

2014-2015 senior year went by and we continued to be a really close family.

For Christmas that year, in 2014, my Aunt boasted that she had got us all tickets to go to Cancun for the 4th of July weekend in 2015. Cool, great. During this time we all /loved/ each other, we’re all so close. We would all be 18 years or older by then, so we would all be legally able to drink in Mexico. What could possibly go wrong??

The answer is everything. Everything could go wrong.

This was during Summer School during my 1st year in college, where I was doing Cross Country and in the middle of the training days. So during the trip, I would have to run on a treadmill and workout. Not important to the story, just trying to situate this in my own personal timeline.

The first two days were fine. My cousins and I went to the “club” and I danced with a girl twice my height and totally out of my league. I swam with my newborn niece, babysat my young cousin. My dad recommended me some drinks that mask the taste of alcohol. It was fun. At night my cousins and I would “FaceTime” all of our girlfriends before going to bed or whenever. I put FaceTime in quotes because we had to use this special app due to location and everything. it was weird. I also don’t have an iPhone so.

It really was a great trip those two days.

Then the third day came around. It was on July 3rd. I only remember the date because it was literally the day before the 4th. So 4 - 1, yeah. Anyways. I forget how this whole thing started, but basically I wanted to stay in the room and talk to my at the time girlfriend. I missed her and all that. And I really didn’t want to play volleyball with random girls? But I was talked into it, and i said fine. Whatever.

Went to play, we played a few rounds. It was whatever. After those rounds, they said they were going to clean off and we’ll start a new round. I didn’t want to clean off, since we were still playing and that would just be a waste, so I waited around.

And waited. and waited. and waited.

Half hour goes by and I’m wondering where the hell they were. Turns out, they went to play a whole different game in the pool and just never told me. Ditched me in a game I didn’t even want to play to begin with.

Rude.

But whatever. So I went to go hang out with my niece because I love her and she was barely going to be 3 months. So still cute.

We were told that we would have to wake up early for the next day (the 4th) because we had something planned, and to make sure we had alarms and room service and all of that situated. I made sure to set that up.

That night, the two cousins wanted to go out to the club again. I was still upset with them so I said no, it was going to be an early night for me. And it was an early night. That is, until they came back into the room at 3am drunk out of their minds with two random girls.

They were the opposite of quiet or considerate. I woke up basically right away. I forget how the conversations went, but the main thing that stuck out to me the most was one of them saying “If he wakes up, I’m leaving.” So I pretended to be asleep so they can have their fun. Whatever. I just want them to shut up and let me sleep.

After an hour of them talking loudly to each other and failing to get them in bed, my cousins take them back to their rooms. So this is roughly 4ish

Me being me locked the door on them, but had second thoughts and unlocked the door. That would have been funny but cruel.

But it probably would have been better than what I did.

So remember when I said I put alarms and room services? Yeah well I totally forgot about that. Turns out I asked for room service for 6am?? Which is an ungodly hour anyways. Lots of metal pans and plates and metal stuff was ushered into our room, and it was like a scene from a movie.

And I was irrationally pissed at everything. And I take full responsibility for being an idiot and not taking the high road. But at the moment, and at the time, it felt like the thing to do.

So I banged on a few of the pans. Turned on the TV and for some reason Women’s tennis was playing. Great. Turned that shit up high. And I really just wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine. Show them how it felt to be rudely woken up.

Well they didn’t like it much. After a few verbal spats thrown towards me, which is nothing new, been told most of those things by them my whole life, whatever, one of them says “he’s a (last name), of course he’s a bitch, all the (last names) are bitches” and that really got to me.

Because, sure yeah, I can be a dick, an asshole, a douchebag, whatever. But he brought my family into this. My mom, my dad. My whole paternal side. And that really just broke the camel’s back.

To this day, I don’t know how I was able to get out of my bed, get into their bed, without spilling my bowl of cereal, and without them reacting before I was able to throw my 4th punch, but on God, I did it.

Though, I really wasn’t able to get a 5th one in, when they were able to react and go all 2v1. One held, one hit. That was a fun time. I learned I have a pretty solid head that could take a good amount of punches. Almost went blind in my right eye because one of them did the old “thumb in the eye socket” technique. Still have the scar under my eye from it too. But I got a nice clean cut on that one’s neck.

After that we had a very long verbal spat about how “we’re a family goddamn it” and “grandma and my mom thought you’ve been a douche this whole trip” and “you’re just jealous of how we are closer than you could ever be”, oh and a few more random things thrown in there.

They went back to bed, and I sat there on my bed. Watching Tennis. Each wack of the racquet just kind of reminding me of the events prior.

Oh and it turned out we didn’t have to be up until like 9. So I laid there for like 2 hours like that. I just remember typing everything that happened and sending it to my girlfriend, because I just needed to tell someone, and I didn’t want to forget any of it.

It was also then that I basically had a dilemma.

If I told my family what happened, the trip was over. Completely over. This getaway adventure to escape our troubles would turn into a family spat. And I just couldn’t do that to them. I couldn’t.

So i didn’t.

I remember thinking up a lie on the spot to explain why my eye was bloodied. I said I fell into the side of the drawer. I remember my rational was something along the lines of “I needed something to be so obviously a lie, that they wouldn't bother to ask me to elaborate now”. And they didn’t.

This was the 4th. And I think we went home on the 7th? So I just needed to avoid everything for the next 3 days and then I was home free.

Before it was over, my mom and sister got into a little fight, so we both isolated ourselves from the group. She asked me what really happened, and I told her. So she really helped me throughout those days.

The trip was over. Woot. Now I never had to see any of them again, because I would be able to just say no to family get-togethers. Get a life of my own.

NOPE.

We had a dodger game THAT Friday. And we already bought the tickets. So I couldn’t really say no. And my girlfriend was coming too, so at least I’d have her to keep me sane.

Well, here’s the funny thing. It wasn’t until the drive to the game where my family finally turned to me and asked “So what really happened”.

Before I told the story, I literally BEGGED my mom not to say anything. I made her promise multiple times that she wouldn’t. And she promised and agreed. So I told my tale of astonishment, everything up to this point. How they were all called bitches and that’s what set me off to turn it physical.

Again, I just want to say that I know I shouldn’t have turned it physical. But insulting me is one thing, insulting my family is a whole other level.

Anyways, we get to the game. (There’s a part where my grandma was upset because I didn’t hug her? But I honestly don’t remember that because I just remember trying to find the bathroom. So maybe it happened, maybe it didn’t, I still don’t know) I get my food, and we go up to the seats. I’m already sitting on the top - away from everyone as much as I can - and everyone starts to work there way in. Eventually my mom and dad start walking up.

And this is where all hell breaks loose.

My mom shouts “the bitches are here” and that was really just. Wow. Insults are hurled, slander is tossed. It was a very lively discussion. And there I was. Just sitting there, because the ONE thing I didn’t want to happen, the ONE thing I tried so hard not to let happen, is unfolding right in front of me.

I remember one of the female cousins who wasn’t involved try to argue some point, one of the male cousins crying, and my aunt saying “did you see what he did to (my son’s) neck!” and my mom responding “Yes I did!” all proud.

Fast forwarding to April 2016, and to sort of just fill everything in from Dodgers game to then, it was basically full of Facebook digs directed towards us, my grandma saying for us to knock it off and stop enticing them, and then more digs.

For someone reason, no one in my family was safe. All of us had something negative to be said. But it basically boiled down to it being targeted at me (of course), my mom, and my oldest sister.

Anyways, in April, my grandma was having a birthday party. I forget how old she was turning, but we had a big celebration. I remember it was only supposed be “X” amount of money, but it seemingly doubled over night to pay for things that weren’t needed to be paid. A lot of wasted money.

It was my grandma’s birthday though. And that wasn’t a thing I was going to miss, regardless of how everything was.

A lot of things transpired that night. Small things. But things none the less.

The next day, I sent a text to my aunt, telling her what I felt and why I felt that way. I believe it was mainly addressed to talk how she was being rude to my girlfriend, and I didn’t appreciate that, and asking her to treat her with more respect. Didn’t go over well. I think I got a meme as a reply that was saying “the world doesn’t revolve around you”. Yeah.

A few days later, my oldest sister and I went to my grandma’s to talk to her. Because we felt like this was just an awful situation for us and we wanted to try to get her to see that we weren’t doing anything. Anyways, I guess during this time, one of the male cousins was texting my other sister.

Essentially, he said my sister lied about a very traumatic effect that happened to her, which still effects her to this day, and that if it “really did happen, there would be a police report”.

I don’t think I’ve cried that hard in a long time. I remember breaking down and just. Yeah. We showed it to my grandma, because there’s no way this could be real? Right? And I remember I was furious. I was so fucking pissed off. I was /visibly/ shaking.

For the next, I don’t know, 2 hours, me and him went back and forth in text messages. Just hurling insults at each other. I eventually started to target his mom, my aunt, because he made a side comment about “don’t talk about my mom” and, cmon, that’s like, an invitation at that point, especially in that mindset.

Side note, a lot of those insults thrown at me are now inside jokes between my friends and I because they were just the stupidest things I’ve ever been called.

So I was insulting him, insulting my aunt, and just ready to take on the world at this point. Because, honestly, at this point I was just holding on to my anger. It wasn’t good at all. And to have something like that be said about my sister? It really brought that fire to life. And it’s the main reason why I can never really forgive them. At least him.

But that’s a whole other story on why.

So maybe a couple days later, my whole family gets a message on facebook. It’s a 6 paged message that essentially boils down to “this is what is wrong with you, you, you and you, and you guys are toxic as hell and you guys are out of our lives.

My favorite part is when I’m called a “selfish, ungrateful, self-entitled punk” and how I’m jealous and want to be like my cousin. Which is hilarious. She also mentions the traumatic experience in quotes, which pissed me off, because quotes usually indicate the idea of a falsehood that is being passed along as facts.

From there, we don’t talk. We don’t talk for a year or so.

I don’t think it was until mid to late 2017 where people started to talk to each other again. Thanksgiving and Christmas usually forced us. But we slowly started doing things together, and having family events with each other that last longer than an hour.

And now it’s 2019. And we are doing full on holidays again. Inviting each other to these things out of the blue. Acting like nothing ever happened. Back to the “old days” sort of deal.

“The healing process.”

And I just don’t know. I don’t like going to these things still. I’m still angry at everything. I’m still hurting from it all.

I’ve been wearing this fucking mask at these events all these years, reinforcing it after each use, acting like I can stand to be there, that I don’t want to get up and just run away. I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to use school as an excuse to leave events early this year. But that could only go so far.

And it’s been 5 years. And I don’t know what to do.

Except write it all down, throw it into the wind, and just try to heal I guess. Heal as much as I possibly can.

#nightwingism irl #tw violence #tw family #not nightwing related #story #that's the story #that's my life

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johnboothus · 3 years

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Nick Jonas and John Varvatos on Fashion Friendship and the Future of Villa One Tequila

It’s not unusual to see collaborations between creative people. In fact, put creatives in a room and often sparks happen from a simple conversation. That’s exactly what happened when iconic men’s fashion designer John Varvatos met worldwide pop star Nick Jonas at a party a few years ago. The two hit it off, bonded over music and fashion, and a friendship began. Then they put it to work.

Their first two projects under the JV x NJ label — a Varvatos capsule collection including leather jackets and knitwear that was followed by a cologne — debuted in 2018. Wanting to continue working together, they thought about their next venture. Clearly, a natural next step was tequila. So, as any pair of celebrities interested in creating a new tequila brand does, this duo spent time in Jalisco, Mexico. They partnered with the Stoli Group’s Fabrica de Tequilas Finos distillery, where they worked with Stoli’s master distiller Arturo Fuentes, who has three decades of distilling experience. He applied his chemical engineering background to making quality spirits, first working with Cognac, Champagne, and rum — eventually focusing on premium tequila in 2000.

In Tequila, they worked with Fuentes to perfect a taste profile that embodied the vibe of what became the brand’s tagline, “Life as it should be.” After the emotional rollercoaster of a year that we’ve collectively experienced, isn’t that something we should all embrace? Sipping a glass of quality tequila, dreaming of life as it should be — why not?

In late October 2019, Villa One launched first in New York, followed by Illinois, California, and Florida with silver, reposado, and añejo bottlings. Since then, it has earned a number of awards and accolades including the SIP Awards 2020 Platinum, Silver, and Double Gold medals for its silver, reposado, and añejo, respectively. Today, Villa One has national distribution in stores, online, and in restaurants. The brand also recently entered the Canadian market.

Here, we talk with Varvatos and Jonas about how they got into tequila, where they see the future of Villa One heading, and Jonas’s new obsession with, of all things, checkers.

1. What’s the drink that made you fall in love with drinking?

Varvatos: I was traveling in Mexico in college and fell in love with Margaritas. It actually really turned me on to tequila in a time where most people thought it was fire water if it wasn’t covered up with mixes.

Jonas: I think a great glass of wine is always wonderful, and was kind of the first introduction I had to the brilliant craftsmanship that goes into creating something like a wonderful wine or tequila.

2. How did you meet and become friends?

Varvatos: We met at a dinner in New York and talked for hours. The next day, we got together to listen to some of Nick’s new music and we knew that day that we would become fast friends and collaborators.

3. How or why did you get into tequila — and so much so that you wanted to launch your own brand together?

Varvatos: I’ve loved tequila for most of my drinking life. Every time Nick and I were together, we shared our love for tequila and were inspired to create an ultra-premium tequila that was best in class, but still accessible in price.

Jonas: I was first drawn to tequila because of the low-carb, sugar, and calorie intake — as a diabetic and a person that cares about fitness and trying to keep a lower calorie count. Then, I learned more about the way it was made and distilled — and then we worked with Arturo Fuentes, our master distiller; he taught us a lot along the way that got us even more interested.

4. What did you like most about the process to create Villa One? What was the hardest part about it?

Varvatos: I loved everything about the process, from growing and harvesting the agave, to the cooking and distilling; but most of all, creating a super-smooth, unique taste profile. I truly enjoyed learning everything we could about tequila.

Jonas: I think the best part about creating this tequila was getting to work with my good friend, John Varvatos, and bringing to life the vision we had based on a few conversations about what we wanted this brand to represent. Obviously, the biggest piece of that puzzle was making sure we did our best to be top of class. Each bottle was made with a lot of care, focus, and attention to detail. The hardest part about the process was just getting the liquid right. We went through about an 18-month process, back and forth between where John was in New York and I was in Los Angeles, and obviously our distillery, and getting the blend just right, to where we were all very happy — and I think we got there.

5. Your tequila is great for straight-up sipping neat, or on the rocks, but also for cocktails. What’s your preferred style? And what’s your go-to cocktail, with which of your tequilas?

Varvatos: My preferred style are simple drinks. I love the taste of our tequila and don’t want to mask it.

Jonas: I love it neat. That’s the purest form, obviously, but during lockdown I got really into making cocktails and making recipes. One of my favorite things was using our silver for a Bloody Maria or a Spicy Margarita. Also, infusing some chocolate bitters into the reposado and añejo to pull out the great chocolate notes.

6. What’s your desert island drink?

Varvatos: Villa One Reposado with a slice of orange and fresh-squeezed lime. Simple, delicious, refreshing, and healthy!

Jonas: Villa One Reposado on the rocks, club soda, and an orange wedge.

7. What do you like to drink when you’re not drinking tequila?

Varvatos: Other than tequila, I like to drink sake.

Jonas: When I’m not drinking tequila, I like wine or beer. Those are my primary drinks outside of tequila, and the occasional mezcal as well.

8. What’s the best and worst bottle in your fridge, bar, or kitchen right now?

Varvatos: I have a bottle of Hakkaisan sake that I had with my grilled salmon last night. Superb!

9. You’re both pretty famous, but what’s something interesting or quirky most people don’t know about you — like a trait or something you’re interested in culturally?

Jonas: I recently got really into checkers and I have an app on my phone that is basically teaching me along the way. I’ve been really loving to get to know more about that; it’s an incredibly tricky game, and complex. But when you play it with friends, you also get to know a lot about the person you are playing with.

10. What’s the best thing that happened to you during Covid quarantine?

Varvatos: The silver lining for me was spending the most quality time ever with my family.

Jonas: I think the best thing that happened was just getting to spend more time with my wife [actress Priyanka Chopra] and our dogs. Being forced to stay home opened up a lot of pathways for me creatively in the music space — and also screenwriting and [other] things I’m doing there.

11. I want to flip things on you:

John, rock ’n’ roll has inspired your designs and you clearly are a music fan. What’s the best concert you’ve ever seen and why?

Varvatos: Best concert was when I was in college and saw Led Zeppelin. Their music and fashion sense truly had an effect on [my] creative senses that lasts until this day.

And Nick, you’re a musician, but also known for your fashion. What’s a piece of clothing you can’t part with or that evokes a special memory and why?

Jonas: I think for me, clothing is all about feeling confident and feeling your best. For me a great suit has a lot of sentimental value; if I wore it to an event, time with friends or family, those can be really meaningful memories.

12. What does the future look like for Villa One? Any special barrel aging or introducing a mezcal?

Varvatos: We are just in the beginning and approaching our second year, but it’s been terrific so far. So, the next step is creating some limited-edition unique barrel-aged runs.

Jonas: The future looks very bright. We’re so excited about the early fan base we have cultivated just having launched about a year and a half ago. The people who have tried it really love it and we’re so excited to continue to grow that and see more and more people make Villa One their top choice.

The article Nick Jonas and John Varvatos on Fashion, Friendship, and the Future of Villa One Tequila appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/jonas-varvatos-villa-one-tequila/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/nick-jonas-and-john-varvatos-on-fashion-friendship-and-the-future-of-villa-one-tequila

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sally-annesstories · 5 years

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Day 14 - Mérida to Rio Lagartos, Mexico

And we’re moving

1. A 9am start today to head to Rio Lagartos from Mérida. I’m excited for this as it’s where we get to visit Las Colorada’s which I want to see. We had a vote on whether to stop via Izamal. To be honest I initially wasn’t keen but there was a bit of disappointment in the group so when it came to voting I ultimately changed mine to keep the peace. Not usually one for caving to peer pressure but I am aware there’s not much happening in Rio Lagartos aside from Las Coloradas so it was ok. It’s funny the dynamics with a bigger group etc. harder for Salvador organising people (seems that people are more likely to be chatty and then waiting for them to start being quiet). Once on the road I continued to read. Have now finished ‘still me’ and am onto ‘the subtle are of not giving a fuck’. I started it 6 months ago but got a bit over it so just picking up where I left off.

2. The stop at Izamal was well worth it! The town was so beautiful and yellow buildings everywhere you looked! Initially had a wee walking tour and then Kristin and I went wandering to explore and get food. There were wee markets in the town square with odds and ends for sale at each stand. We wanted to get something but hunger was in our way so we walked into a little alley way which had heaps of options available. To be honest everything looked so questionable. If I went into a food alley like that at home there is no way I’d stay for a meal. Everyone eating was Mexican and there were quite a few Mayans as well. Ultimately this older lady started talking to us, she was dressed so beautifully carrying her handbag and she worked at one of the stalls and we elected to eat there. I had a vege taco and Kristin and chicken and beans. The vege was all fresh tomato, lettuce, avocado. If I’m sick it’s because of this but it was 100% worth it. So damn good. Crazily it was only 12 pesos! Translates to about $1. Also got a glass of coke as there’s something special about Mexican cola! Actually that was another thing with this wee food alley and kinda everywhere in Mexico is the level of Coca-Cola advertising. The tables and chairs were all red with the logo. From there we went back to the market. Kristin picked up some art for her family and I got braided anklets. Feel I need to take advantage of this funemployed thing I have going on given I haven’t worn them in years! Then we ventured to a wee store for Cheeto puffs (or poffs, it is of course Mexico)..I’m addicted and finally an iceblock. We also did a walk up a temple before hopping on the bus to Rio Lagartos.

3. On the bus Salvador took food orders for when we arrived at Rio Lagartos. As Kristin and I had eaten we skipped lunch and went straight to the hotel. We spoke to the woman at reception about going to Las Coloradas ourselves. The internet had given mixed reviews on time of day that was best and so we thought given not much else to do there we should just give it a go. Well turns out there are no taxis in Rio Lagartos and so we thought let’s get bikes. She did look at us like we were idiots for suggesting we bike there. It would take an hour and at 32 degrees + 90% humidity she might’ve been right. Either way she sent us in the direction of hiring bikes and off we wandered. First stop we get there and 6 people are looking at us oddly as we walk round the property. A guy asks what’s up and we (Kristin...) tells him we’re after the bike hire. He said the guys on lunch but gave him a call. Rio Lagartos is like the islands, everyone is friendly and chill. Anyway bike hire man was enjoying his day and didn’t want to hire bikes today. The friendly man that called though sent us further down the road to another place that could help. We found a woman with a bike out the front and a tandem one at the back. She was happy to rent to us saying we could have two people on either bike. We (Kristin) said where we wanted to go and she screwed get face as too far and too hot. But she provided an alternative watering hole which was not so far. Approx 1km. We wanted our togs for this so said we’d come back once we had these from our bags. On the way to the hotel we went via a store for water and the guy asked our plans and he seemed happy with watering hole idea and proceeded to give directions. It’s so nice getting away from a mass of people to really experience the people and culture. Also amazing having Kristin leading all the communication. The locals everywhere have been so impressed with her and Julia. Back at the hotel and bags and everyone had arrived. We grabbed ours and popped on togs. Majority were heading on a boating excursion. Julia wanted to rest but Ed was up to coming with us. Five minutes we were all ready and headed back to the lady with the bikes.

4. Back at the bike hire the lady said 25 pesos per bike an hour. Sunset and then dinner was around 7 so we thought 3 hours would be good for a swim. It was bordering on 4pm. We hired both the single and the tandem. I think I’ve tandemed biked maybe once or twice before and bloody hell it was a balancing act to begin with. Kristin was up the front and I was behind with Ed on the solo. I was way too tall for the bike but all part of the adventure! We hit the road heading to the water front and following maps to what appeared to be the jungle. We first came across some water but it wasn’t on the map where we thought we were going so continued riding down a dirt road. Found a deserted building, potentially a church and a dead-end. We headed back to where we had been and a local was on the road who confirmed where we were was where we were meant to be. After our bike ride on the no-gear bikes we were pretty hot so we jumped it to cool off. The water was so good to be in! No idea on how clean but it was coming from the ocean so likely ok. There were so many young locals swimming. Playing tag or Marco Polo (Mexican equivalent!) and just generally playing. The swam and splashed everywhere. Was so fun. Such a relaxing way to spend the afternoon! Once we were done in the water there was a dock to chill on and continued soak up the fading sun for the next hour or so. More and more kids arrived jumping in the water , onto the dock and in again. So much chaos and happiness. Finally was time to embrace the world again and bike back to the hotel. Turns out our bike must’ve got a punctured tire on the way there. We took a look and decided if we took an easy ride it would be ok. Well that lasted for a few hundred metres and then the tubing was tangled everywhere in the rim! Between the 3 of us (Ed) we/he de-tangled the tubing and then popped it back in the tire. You could see a bunch of patches so they’d obviously seen a puncture or 10 before! The ride back was then a walk but at only a kilometre it was easy and flat. Plus we got to take advantage of the view longer. Handing in the bikes was a bit confusing. Kristin led the chat given she speaks Spanish and we were quite happy to provide some pesos because of the puncture. Anyway I couldn’t really follow the chat (sometimes I can) because Kristin was chill but the woman seemed mad. She also looked at me a lot (I think she forgot I couldn’t really understand). Anyway after 5 minutes we leave all happy as Larry. Turns out the woman was chill about the puncture. Just Mexicans show more emotions than maybe kiwis do so her tone which I took as being unhappy her just her way of expressing herself. Overall she was so friendly and lovely. For a place that’s not really on the maps of somewhere to go, I really liked Rio Lagartos a lot.

5. At 7 we had a team dinner. Not compulsory but decided to go. There’s not a whole lot of options in Rio Lagartos! Pollo a la Mexicana (onions, tomatoes, that whole jam!) was exactly my vibe. Continuing the teams of heat supressing my appetite I didn’t even eat half. Probably heat combined with the fact I had a second fizzy coke for the day. Kristin and I headed back to the hotel. She wanted an early night and I wanted 30 mins of alone time. After a while I heard noise of people hanging out downstairs. I wasn’t tired and had caught up on me (feeling human again!) so I went down. Turns out there were 3 bottles of tequila and cards on the menu. I ended up acting as sober supervisor for the games. Drinking games have different names across the world but I think as kiwis were pretty aware of this so while a mild amount of confusion existed I could name the majority in the slang from a variety of places. Also there were a few confused faces from cards so helped out there too. Cheers to uni days. I opted to stay away from the tequila as have had my fair share of late and didn’t want to feel below average in the morning. The night progressed till 12.30am before the games were over the majority of us hit the hay. Some very happy faces amongst the booze. Back in our room I was mildly awake but forced myself to get some rest. I think I’m averaging 5-6 hours a night at the moment so just going with it. Even when I’ve been in cars I right or read so no naps either. Obviously all I’m needing in this lifestyle. Planning a chill next week on the beach as well which will be good (granted nothing is booked but I’ll do it eventually).

Rio Lagartos is bloody great!

Tally:

Times I complained while biking: 3 (it was not a flash bike)

Kids swimming in the inlet: 14

Friendly locals who helped us or had a chat: 7

Izamal / alley where we at lunch / Izamal x2 / biking adventures + swimming hole at Rio Lagartos

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storytimewithtara-blog · 7 years

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Redecorating

Kevin headed to the living room, desperate to catch the highlights from the games missed today. There were only so many days in a row he could stand being out of the loop with the guys at the office. He saw Marie shifting the TV farther to the left on the entertainment stand. She angled the TV to face the majority of the room, but this gave his leather recliner an awful position. There would be a horrible sun glare all day and Marie's mother's reading lamp would do the same all night.

“Babe, what are you doing?” he asked, hoping it was simply a bit of random cleaning.

“Just need a few more inches of space for the painting I bought today,” she said as she stepped back to get a full view of the TV's position. Marie seemed happy with it. She must have been ignoring the obvious cons this had for his chair and moved to line up the canvas to the wall.

“Does it have to go there?”

“Why not?

“Don't you think it throws off the room a bit?” He thought that was something he'd heard drifting out from the home renovation shows Sadie watched any time she was in the living room, which was most of the time.

Kevin had taken the opportunity of her taking a shower to claim the space, for awhile at least. Once she came down, Sadie would settle into her chair quietly and take up knitting while casually mentioning how sports moved too fast and made her dizzy. He'd be able to ignore the clipping sounds of needles and occasional sighs until the highlights were over. Then he would stand, smile, and ask what channel Sadie would like. She'd fuss and say he could watch whatever he wanted, but after one more insistence on his part a show would quickly come to mind. The phrase started with “Well, I suppose” and ended “if you really don't mind, Kevin”. Every time. He'd taken to mouthing the words as she spoke when he was turned away from her to change the channel.

Marie dropped the canvas back to the floor. “You don't like it. I thought you would like it.”

The painting was possibly a city sidewalk lined with streetlamps, New York City or such. Everything looked sort of melted, maybe it was raining. There had been rain on their trip to New York, they had huddling under an umbrella from the restaurant to the theater for their show. That's what the content side of him saw anyway. The grouchy side saw a night on fire, burning away the structure and beauty of the city life. Kevin didn't understand the painting either way, but that did not mean he hated it. This wasn't about the painting.

“Babe, it's great. I just don't think it fits there. Why mess up the TV? It would fit on the back wall.”

“I finally hung some of our pictures back there. Mom finally decided on a few that weren't too distracting.”

He could hear in her voice that he should have noticed the frames on the wall. Most of those had been on the bedroom floor. Kevin turned to the second recliner that was pulled back to sit more snugly in the corner of the room and saw their smiling faces from the Virgin Islands, Eiffel Tower, and a couple different European churches. If the chair were in its original space, there would have been room for pictures and painting alike, but Sadie like the view out the bay window back there. The reading lamp that would put a glare in the center of his TV was to the chair's right and a bag of yarn and a half finished hat were on its left.

“Why can't she do that upstairs?” he asked for what was the twentieth time since Sadie had arrived.

“She likes to knit while she watches TV.”

“There is a TV in her room.” He knew she used it, at night he could hear reruns of I Love Lucy coming from her room because Sadie turned the volume up for her hearing and then fall asleep with the TV on. Kevin was often pulled out of a light sleep by a particularly loud laugh track.

“I'm not just going to shut her into one room, Kevin. She wants to be around us,” Marie said.

“How about next to the corner stand,” he said flinging a hand out to the opposite back corner of the room.

“The painting doesn't fit with Mom's figures.”

Marie looked over the Precious Moments that lined the shelves. Dozens of doe eyed boys and girls frozen in romantic scenes or lifetime highlights. He spotted a couple kissing on a bench, a young girl holding a drawing, a newlywed couple that was stamped with their wedding date, and an angel boy stamped with the date of her father's passing. That one creeped him out the most. There seemed to be one for anything notable Marie had done in her life. Few of their own belongings remained on the shelves: a bottle of sand from Mexico, another with ash from Pompeii, and a new book on Spain that Marie had been talking about reading for weeks. There was no point in researching a trip they couldn't set a date for. Marie wouldn't leave Sadie alone and Sadie didn't find Spain all that appealing. Kevin almost laughed at the image of a frustrated Sadie arguing in slow English to a market salesman over what was a lemon and what was a lime. Was there a Precious Moment for culture shock?

“And why can't those go in her room?” Kevin asked.

“Spreading out her things makes this feel more like home for her, which it is. Keeping it all locked in a room would be mean.”

Marie was counting the figures with a subtle tap of her finger on her arm, to see if Sadie had added any more. They had started on just one shelf and slowly infected the rest of the stand.

Kevin thought of the bookcases shoved into their bedroom. Both had been crowded with books, but now held a cluster of decorative items that had lost their positions. One item was the Day of the Dead mask that once hung in the kitchen, after Sadie had been shocked into prayer three days in a row the mask was taken down and hidden away. Large prints of Bible verses replaced their photographs of Mardi Gras, those pictures now laid flat on top of books.

“How about our bedroom?” he asked.

“I want people to see it, Kevin. I can't just drag people into our room. Especially the way it looks now.”

The room Sadie claimed upstairs had been a sort of office/den space for them. Her arrival not only moved the bookshelves to their room, but the small desk they had shared. Laptops rested precariously on nightstands, waiting for the morning Kevin or Marie caught the corner as they rolled out of bed. The loveseat and chair were squished into what had been a small workout room downstairs, but now was the Sadie overflow room. This room now held boxes of home décor she hadn't yet been able to force on their walls, boxes of picture albums and scrapbooks, and Kevin had spied boxes of Marie's school papers as they'd moved it all in.

Kevin mentally ran through the house. He couldn't find a spot that wasn't Sadie filled, or filled to make room for Sadie, unless she wanted to just plaster the new painting to the front door. No, the echo of bells in his mind reminded him that a golden angel, that had been assumed a Christmas decoration but they were now in March, still hung from the knocker. As he gave his hair a toss, Kevin sank into his chair and watched the fading sunlight throw beams across his TV.

“She doesn't fit,” he said.

Marie tilted her head, but her eyes glanced to the figurines. “What are you talking about?”

“She doesn't fit in this house, Marie. There isn't enough room for your mother and us.”

“It is far too late to be having this conversation again.' “We never had this conversation in the first place.”

Marie's father died and she couldn't stand the thought of her mother living alone. As an only child, the only solution she'd found was for Sadie to move in with them. She'd been so upset about the passing, and so sure of the impending depression Sadie was bound for, Kevin only wanted to sooth her and never saw 'no' as an option. They'd had to struggle with Sadie on giving away her late husbands possessions, but a good amount that neither mother or daughter could part with were still stacked on top of his treadmill. Their arrangement was going on seven months and Sadie seemed to be adjusted just fine. The woman wasn't completely dependent on them, but seemed to enjoy having them at beck and call.

A flash of light cut across the room, Kevin hadn't thought about headlights also being a problem for his TV. He heard the shower turn off upstairs. There was no chance of watching his highlights now. Sadie would slip into a cheetah print pajama set and come down with towel dried hair in just a bit. Resigning to spending another night catching up on news from his twelve inch computer while his sixty-five inch TV was used for some HGTV show, Kevin pushed out of his chair. The guys at work would tell him anything he missed tomorrow.

“Put it on the wall, I don't care,” he said.

He heard the bathroom door open, a squeaky voice drifted down. Kevin couldn't make out the words, but he would put money on it being some country song about God, that was her favorite.

“Maybe, maybe it would fit by the corner stand,” Marie said.

Kevin looked between the two walls being discussed. “Might be a tight fit back there.”

Marie walked over to the stand and her fingers landed on top of a figurine, a mother and daughter picking flowers. She balanced the Precious Moment on the edge of the shelf. When Sadie's voice was cut off by the snap of her door, Marie let the figure fall. Bits of porcelain skidded across the wood floor to land at Kevin's feet.

“No,” she said, “there is much more room here now.”

#writing shortstory couple argument story fiction

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wellmeaningshutin · 7 years

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Short Story #114: Maternal Instinct.

Written: 5/28/2017 A Week Under the Influence

It wasn’t clear how long it had taken for the whole ordeal to be over, it could have been a matter of minutes or a matter of days, but the important thing was that it had finally passed, her children were finally dead. This wasn’t what she wanted, if she could have had her way she would have full custody and wouldn’t have to worry, but if we’re speaking in hypotheticals then she also wouldn’t have an addiction to alcohol, or serious debt. Sure, she thought about taking her children to Mexico, maybe Canada since they were about the same distance away from both borders, but she could have been caught before she even reached those places, and what quality of life would they have if they made it? She hardly had enough money as it was, and it would cost her a good amount just to reach the destination, so by the time she ended up in the neighboring country she would be broke, without a job, wouldn’t know a single person there, wouldn’t even speak the language, especially if she ended up in Quebec. Then what? What sort of life would that be for her children? And if that wasn’t an option, what else was she supposed to do? If her children ended up with their biological father, they would never have a chance of having a happy life, they would become fucked up for all eternity, so she decided to keep her kids pure, innocent, happy. Great intentions didn’t lead to a great execution, and she was horrified by the effects the drain cleaner had on her poor kids. It seemed simple enough, it seemed like they would only feel sick and then die of fever like symptoms, but that’s only because she acted on impulse, and confused the effects of cleaning products with a poison that she had seen on television. However, she was right when she decided that it would be better to be drunk for the event, but she was only lying to herself when she said that it was the only reason that she was getting drunk, mainly because she had already polished off a bottle of white wine only several hours before, and was still feeling the effects. Lies were unimportant now anyways, because she knew that it was almost her turn to pass. If she continued to go on living, then she would have to do so in prison. She would get the death sentence, would have to deal with the public harassment and dehumanization, the awful television movies that would be inspired by her crime, but the worst part would have to be that she would see her ex-husband play the role of the loving father, the good guy, the real victim. On top of all of that, she would have to detox, and would have to deal with the awful feelings, physical and mental, that would surface, it was a zero sum game. The only reason that she didn’t die with her children, after they stuffed themselves with pizza and ice cream, was because she had to make sure that they were all dead. If one of them survived, she had to make sure that she would put them down, which is the reason that she had a hammer in her lap during the dinner. It was crude, but she was drunk, and it was arguably more humane than what the drain cleaner had done to them, even the aftermath was incredibly upsetting. Coated with blood and thick chunks of stomach lining, the table itself seemed to be worse for her to look at than her own kids, who only looked like they had fallen asleep at the table. However, she wouldn’t have to look at the ghoulish scene any longer, because it was finally her time to depart. She wasn’t sure if there was an after life, or what it would be like, but she figured that even if it was just the glittery void that she had known before birth, it would be better than being conscious. So, she raised her cup, filled with drain cleaner, as a sort of toast for her children, but before she was able to drink she heard a noise, it was her phone. Due to intoxication, she decided to put her cup down and answered the phone, hoping for one moment of brutal honesty, one that she believed that she could never afford when she was live, but constantly indulged in during her black outs. “He-hello?”, was said cautiously, she forgot to check to see who was calling. “Janet? Hello?” “Hey mom, wha-hows it going?” Her mother was too sweet, she couldn’t bear to go off on the woman, and she wasn’t even sure what she could complain about. Paying for lawyers in the divorce, helping to get full custody, helping babysit, or just driving, when was too drunk, her mother did too much for her, and was the only person who she truly felt bad for, since the woman would fall apart after the loss. “Why, I’m nearby. Do you remember Gladys? I was just at her house, and she made so much food for me, we couldn’t even eat it all. It was a lot. She told me that I should take it home for myself, because she had made it for me and me only, but I could never eat that much. It will go bad before I can even take a couple bites of it.” “Wait, who is-” “Gladys, Gladys, you know.” “Saying her name isn’t going to help me remember, you have to-you really gotta you know, explain all of these thing mom. I’m not- I can’t read your mind.” “She’s my lover, or whatever is closest to that. What do the kids call it these days? What’s the word for somebody who cooks you food, and you have sex with, without being mutually exclusive.” “Okay, woah, okay that may be too much to-” “It’s 2017, and you’re upset that I’m-” “No, I just don’t want to, whatever, so you-” “I’m almost there, I’ll be there in a couple minutes, bye!” Click. Out of a mix of intoxication and mortification, she stared straight ahead and felt an overwhelming sense of dread, stronger than what she felt while she watched her kids as they were about to take their last drinks. There was no way that she could take an early exit now, her mother had a house key and could walk in on her as it was happening, could see blood come out of from her eyes, nose, mouth, as she spasmed and the cleaner liquefied and tore apart her insides. Janet knew for a fact that no parent could bear to see their child go through that, and she knew that it would look worse with the scene around the table. So, she had to think fast. She realized that she still had the hammer in her lap, she could just try to bash her own brains in, but who knew if that would be effective enough, and that required too much precision from somebody who was three wine bottles deep. Then she had a better idea, which didn’t have any time for criticism, and she immediately got to it. First, she made sure to fold up the table cloth, blood, pizza, stomach lining, plates, drain cleaner, ice cream, all bunched up in the inside. Then she took it out to the backyard and sort of just left it by the back door, knowing that disposal didn’t really matter. After accidentally knocking the screen door off of its hinges, and having to pull one of her arms out of it, she desperately tried to remember where the wash clothes were in the kitchen, and had emptied seven drawers before she found the one she was looking for. It was then time to lift up each of her children’s faces to wipe off any blood that may have remained on there, praying, before she lifted each head, that none of the blood would have started to turn to crust. Luckily it was fresh enough for that not to happen, but unfortunately her only daughter’s forehead had a large gash when her head slammed into the corner of the table. The doorbell rang. Not having any time, Janet grabbed a bowl that had fallen to the floor, and placed it on top of her daughter’s head. Before she could answer the door, it had already swung open, and she was face to face to face with the two images that she saw of her mother, who was apparently wearing her glasses. Normally the woman had trouble seeing anything, making it difficult for her to tell her grandchildren apart, or to read anything on her phone, making her rely on calls only, even though half of those calls were to the wrong people anyways. Janet had completely forgotten that the dear old interruption had to always wear her glasses when she drove, or else she would continue down the same road for hours, or constantly take right turns in a state of confusion, causing herself to drive in circles.Thinking as well as she possibly could, Janet snatched the woman’s glasses off of her face, and threw them a a nearby wall, or at least she tried to throw at the wall, but ended up sending them directly into the floor where they didn’t shatter, until Janet had another burst of inspiration and stepped on them. “What was that for?!” Her mother asked, audibly upset. “Uh, you know, I uh thought it was a- well- it made sense when I-” “Oh well”, shrugging, “I guess I should just be happy that you’re still able to walk.” It never once crossed Janet’s mind that her mother could be an enabler. “I’m going to go ahead and put this in your fridge if you don’t mind. Where are the children? I’d love to see them right now.” “Oh, kids, yeah they’re in the-”, pointing towards the kitchen, “right over there.” Careful to walk without stumbling, Janet followed behind her mother, hoping that the blind old broad wouldn’t be able to tell that the children looked horrifying. Fuck, she thought as the old woman took her time to move, what the fuck am I supposed to do if she finds out? Should I just hit her over the head with a hammer, make sure that she doesn’t even find out, so she could die without even knowing the horrors that are waiting for her? Should I let her hit me over the head with the hammer, just so that she can get some sense of revenge, and I can be comforted in my death? Or, why do I keep, why is the hammer my only option right now? Why not a knife or something? Should one of us stab each other, would that be better? Or could I just steal her car, and drive somewhere, so I’ll eventually crash into something? Or, wait, maybe I’m at invincible levels of being drunk, maybe survival is guaranteed. I have hands, maybe I could use my own hands. Doesn’t being drunk make me stronger, can I bend her spine in half, and- no, no this is getting off track. God damn she’s so slow. Maybe she’s slow because of the food that she’s carrying, maybe I should help her. No, no that requires too much effort, that’s too much for me right now. I won’t help her, but I’ll kill her, maybe, or she’ll kill me. Where’s that hammer at anyways? Wait, don’t I own a gun? Why didn’t I, god fucking- “Ohh, there you children are. Here, I’ll just put this right here on the table, and then I’m going to come and give each one of you a kiss.” Janet didn’t know if she should scream or intervene. She threw up instead, and the sound of it hitting the hardwood reminded her of when her children threw up on the table, blood, stomach lining and chunks everywhere, and it only made Janet retch even harder. Her mother heard her daughter get a ‘second wind’, which is what Janet called it when she retched, then no longer felt sick, allowing her to drink more. The Tupperware containers were placed onto the kitchen table, and the mother came to assist her inebriated daughter, who was happy to have bought some time. “Okay darling”, her mother said with a hand on her back, “when you get all of that out just lie down on the couch, get real nice and horizontal, then I’ll come over and bring you a glass of water. You don’t need to tire yourself out, I don’t need any help with the children.” After helping her daughter lay down, then leaning in, speaking in a whisper, “Have you talked to them about living with their father yet? It’s a real shame that they have to go live with that horrible, evil man, but you can’t just keep them in the dark about it.” Janet had no idea of how she was supposed to respond to the question, so she simply decided not to. “You have to prepare them for everything, you can’t just make them find out for themselves. I’ve read up on the subject, or, I’ve listened to audio books on the subject, and I think it would be best if we taught them all of the warning signs, so they would know when his behavior would become.. Well, inappropriate. We need to make sure that they won’t be afraid to talk to the authorities if something does happen, just so that he could lose them and I could get custody. They’d be safe with me, and it would be no problem at all.” “No, uh, mom I wouldn’t want you to go through all of the trouble. I wouldn’t want to put you, put you through that. You’re a good person, and I love you, but-” “But nothing, I’d love to have them. To be honest”, looking away from her daughter, “I’ve been lonely for quite some time. I’m not sure if all of these casual hookups are for me-” “Mom, please-” “Sure, I’m a little grateful of the freedom that I’ve had since your father passed, and if I didn’t have you, and the children, why, I’d wish that I never met the man. Women can do so many beautiful things, they know what they’re doing.” “No-” “With men its very selfish, but with women its. Wow, have you ever been with another woman before?” “Is this really the time to-” “I swear, its like a parade of orgasms, its like-” Putting her hands in her face, “Go talk to the, to the kids or whatever you came to do. I don’t want to deal with this right now, or ever. Just, go. Go away from me right now, let me get some, let me rest and relax.” “Alright dear.” As her mother got up to walk towards the dining room, Janet breathed a sigh of relief and was glad that she was able to have space to recover. However, when she heard, “My, you children are awfully quiet tonight”, a sense of panic spread through her body, and got her off of the couch, even if it did almost make her retch again. “Now say hello, don’t be shy.” Janet clumsily slunk into the entrance of the dining room, and said, in her best child voice, “Hello grandma”. At first she was panicked and worried about it being obviously fake, about her mother catching on, but when the words came out it turned out that she was drunk enough to pull the voice off. “Now”, her mother said in a stage whisper, “what’d I tell you about calling me grandma? That’s only for when Janet is around, call me mom.” Again in that childish voice, “Hello mom.” Janet stared at the back of her mother’s head, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Then her gaze traveled over to the table, where the remains of her children were sitting upright, were very pale, and she had to look down at her feet in order to not make any noises, but also to make sure that she kept her balance. “Kisses will have to wait, I have some important news for you kids. Now, like I promised you kids, my sweet angels, you’re finally going to get away from this house and that wretched woman. You’re going to have to live with your father for a little while, but he’s promised to give custody over to me just for a little bit, I don’t think he wants to see you kids. Oh my, that was the wrong thing to say wasn’t it? Its just that, the man isn’t right in the head, and, uh, well look on the bright side, you’re going to live with your mother very soon. Isn’t that exciting? No more terrible Janet.” “Yaaaay!” What the fuck. What the fuck. What a fucking, what the, how could she? “What if mom hears-” “Now, haven’t I told you to call me mom? I’m your mother, and if you forget that again you’ll go right to your room without any dinner or desert. You can starve while you think about the mistake you made. You wouldn’t want that now would you, Janet?” Is, is she talking to me, or.. Why did she look at Tabitha when she said that, is she just, just confused? She could be, could be, could be. “Grand- I mean, mom, my name is Tabitha.” “Now, don’t make me raise my voice right now. I’ve told you a hundred times, now. James, how many times have I told her?” “A hundred, mom.” “That’s right. You need to remember this or I’m going to lose my good mood: you’re name is Janet. That was the name of my sister who died, back when I was your age. She was a wonderful girl, so I made sure to give the name to my first born, to make sure that her spirit would live on. But my daughter is a rotten woman, who drinks and drinks” you fucking buy me wine, you talked me out of going to rehab, you constantly tell me that its fine, that, that, what the hell is going on “and never shows you kids any love, not like your mother does. So you will take her name instead, you will be the woman that my sister was meant to be.” “Okay mom.” “Now-” and at that moment, James, the oldest boy, had slumped forwards until his head slammed onto the table. This time, the old woman spoke loudly, almost shouting, “Oh my, James, are you alright?” Janet, the second Janet, stomped on the floor, alternating feet, to mimic the sounds of somebody walking, then said, “Did something happen mom?”, pretending as if she had just come into the room to see what the fuss was about. “Oh, nothing dear. James just seems to be a little tired, that’s all. We’ll let him sleep, its no problem. Go back and rest, take your time to recover. Do you need anything to drink? I could bring you some wine if you want, that will relaz you.” “I don’t know, I was thinking about cutting off for a while. You know, I’m-” “Oh, don’t do that! You have no reason to stop, its not like you have a problem or anything. So what if you get a little tipsy every now and then, just go out and live your life. Now, go lay down and I’ll bring that bottle to you. “ So, now that her mother was focusing on her, Janet had to stumble back into the living room to plop herself down onto the couch, while contain her anger and confusion. As she stared up at the ceiling, she could hear the woman talk, but the words weren’t clear at all, it was just muffled noise. How long has this been going on, why is this, how could- then, yelled from the kitchen, “Dear, I can’t seem to find any clean wine glasses, so you’ll have to make sure to drink from the bottle. Make sure to finish it though, or the whole thing will go bad overnight because of all of the bacteria.” When she was finished speaking, she had just walked into the living room and handed the bottle to Janet, who was actively trying not to break the bottle over the old woman’s face. You fucking, look what I did because, I wouldn’t even be in this situation if it wasn’t for, she then screamed in her head for some time. Janet had decided that she wouldn’t try to kill her mother, she would have to do something much, much worse. For a second, she thought about the hammer, but she couldn’t think of what she was supposed to do about that, and then she had her great idea, but she would have to act fast. As her mother was saying something inaudible to the cold and unresponsive children, Janet piped up, “Mother, could you take James up to his room? He seems to be tired, and I feel oh so, so so so bad for- I’ve kept them up and its a school night and-” “Alright dear, no problem, I was just about to do that anyways.” Then, as she walked into the room holding the dead kid, “My, he seems to be very cold, almost icy.” “Oh yeah, he, uh, he’s had a cold for a while. I guess I forgot to tell you that, but its no worry, just make sure to make sure that he’s bundled up in extra layers when he’s in bed.” “And”, smelling the air, “it seems as if he has soiled himself.” “Yeah that’s the, don’t you know what colds do? There’s no need to embarrass the poor boy, just make sure to clean him up and tuck him in, then I’ll be up in a while to kiss him goodnight, but, but not on the lips though. I wouldn’t want to catch the-” “Yes dear, I understand. I’ll be back down in a little while.” When her mother was up the stairs, Janet decided to get to work, and leapt off of the couch, knocked into the coffee table, and rolled over while it crashed into the floor. There was a faint hint of pain in her right side, but she ignored it, and her mother’s calls of concern, because she had work to do. Stumbling to her feet, then looking around for the wine bottle, Janet started to sweat, started to panic, she wasn’t sure if her plan would work, but there was no time to think about it, she would just have to believe that it would work, and that’s all that mattered, because if things fell through she would have no way of knowing, she would be turned off. She stood still for a second, and was able to spot the wine bottle, which was emptying itself onto the hardwood. She scooped it off of the floor, almost falling into the couch while doing so, then clumsily ran towards the kitchen, knocking over Tabitha and her chair as she passed through the dining room, causing there to be two separate thuds, and for the bowl to land on the floor, and roll into the kitchen alongside a disoriented, but determined, Janet. When she was inside of the kitchen, she made her way to the sink, where she emptied out the wine bottle, and when it was only half way empty, or what she believed to be half way empty, she tilted the neck up and looked around for the drain cleaner. Footsteps made their way down the staircase. Her mother was shouting something, but she couldn’t hear over the sound of her own heartbeat. Hands shaking, palms sweating, she surveyed the room until she found the bottle of cleaning supplies on the counter, next to a pizza box, and made sure to move carefully towards it. Her mother had entered the dining room, and was making some commotion about Tabitha, and Janet believed that her daughter could buy her some time. When she was by the pizza, she had to fight a drunken urge to start eating, to soak up the alcohol, and instead began to pour drain cleaner into the bottle, making sure to fill it all of the way. It was one of those rare moments of drunken clarity where she was able to focus solely on that one task, and nothing else, not even the idea of screwing it up, allowing her to perform her task perfectly. The bottle had been full. Her mother stepped into the room to find out what the hell was happening, shouting something about “the children, the children”. Janet looked her mother in the eye, and her mother looked at the fuzzy outline of her “rotten daughter”. “Dear, what’s going on?” She asked, trying, and failing, to keep her composure. “What’s wrong with the children? You didn’t let them drink any wine, did you? Please tell me that you weren’t passed out, that you even-” “Fuck you”, those were her last two words before she began to down the bottle. Do to muscle memory, experience, and skill, Janet was able to drink half of the contents before her mother swatted it out of her hands, believing that her daughter was just acting out in a drunken rage. However, when she knocked the bottle out of her daughter’s hands, some of the contents spilled onto the older woman, and she began to feel her skin burn. Then, before she could figure out what was happening, before she could even say anything, Janet stumbled towards her, grabbed her shoulders for balance, then started to retch blood onto the horrified older woman, who was confused not only by the blood, but due to the thick, black chunks that it seemed to contain. Janet’s nose began to bleed, she tried to speak but she emptied the contents of her stomach, and pieces of her stomach, onto the woman who was screaming in her face. Her legs buckled and she dropped to floor, clutching her stomach as she felt the intense and regrettable pain of her insides liquefying. She no longer wanted to speak, she wanted to scream even though she couldn’t, but her blood soaked mother was doing that for her anyways. Her eyes began to bleed, her consciousness began to fade. She wondered if this was the afterlife, if in the after life you only feel pain. In her last moments, she had completely forgotten about her plan, had forgotten what she was trying to do in the first place. The idea of trying to frame her rotten mother had never crossed her mind, she was just praying that her insides would stay solid, at least for a couple seconds.

#Free Write #Short Story #Writers on Tumblr #Family #Draino

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sailorgreywolf-legacy · 8 years

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Legacy- Chapter 3

A few years passed, although Mexica aged much faster. As soon as he started accepting Spain's education he started to age very quickly. He went from physically being 5 to being 14, and then he started aging slower again. Spain somewhat lamented that New Spain aged so fast "I can't hold you on my lap anymore, I have to tutor you the normal way".

But New Spain was happy about it; people stopped treating him like a child. It also gave him the chance to learn to ride, something that Spain had objected to him doing for a long time for fear that he would fall and hurt himself. He also learned to read in Spanish, English and Latin. Even Spain commented on how clever New Spain was, and he, although he would never say it in front of Spain, thanked his father for his intelligence.

"Are you ever going to go to sleep? How many more times can you read that book?" Cuba grumbled as he turned in his bed to glare at New Spain. Spain had decided to put them in the same room to keep each other company. New Spain glanced over at his roommate "It's the bible; I can't read it too many times. Have you ever actually read it?" Cuba shook his head sleepily "I don't read Latin, Antonio has told me what I need to know about it". New Spain replied "But there is so much more here to read and understand. There is this figure that Spain almost completely ignores, The Virgin Mary. Why should we pray to the son and not to the Madonna?"

Cuba groaned and rolled over "Can't we debate theology tomorrow, after I have gotten some sleep?" New Spain ignored him "And these stories, Spain won't tell you half of these. This is so open to interpretation!" Cuba groaned again "If you don't shut up, I am going to come over there and put out that lamp myself!" New Spain ignored him again, more to spite him than anything "You really should read this sometime, or maybe I will read it to you".

Cuba pushed himself off of his bed and gracelessly lunged over the gap between their beds. He tackled New Spain, sending the book flying. New Spain retaliated by hitting Cuba over the head with a pillow. Within a few seconds the pair of them were wrestling and making a ruckus. "Ay! Can you two restrain your sexual tension for one night! The rest of us are trying to sleep!" New Spain turned to see Peru glaring at them.

Then another voice spoke behind them "Or maybe since we are all up anyway, we can have some fun with it". Peru made a disapproving noise in his throat, but Colombia just smiled. Chile, Peru's brother, appeared at his elbow. Columbia held up a glass bottle "Look what I snitched from Spain's cellar". Cuba gasped "You can't have that! Spain has forbidden us from drinking". Colombia smiled slyly "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. We deserve to have some fun now and again". Bolivia, the third of the Inca born brothers, appeared from behind Cuba and tackled him "Don't worry so much".

The three Inca brothers were almost identical, although they differed in age. They were all three thin and lanky with sharp angular features. Chile was the youngest and Peru was the oldest. As for Colombia, no one asked who his parents were. He was good looking, but in the kind of way that made him look mischievous. He almost always smirked. No one was really surprised that he was the one to steal Spain's wine. Colombia conjured a glass out of midair "Here's the deal, we will have some contests, and each time someone loses, they drink".

Bolivia smirked "I'll play that game". Chile simply nodded; Peru smirked more wickedly than Colombia had "I will play if my holy lord Mexica will". New Spain glared at him "I might be wrong, but I think you are mocking me. In which case, I will punish you by beating you in all these challenges". Cuba looked at the two of them pleadingly "Both of you know that this is forbidden". There existed a rivalry between Peru and New Spain that everyone was aware of. Both of them bid to outdo each other in everything, and Cuba already knew that he wouldn't get either of them to see reason.

Colombia looked at Cuba expectantly "Are you too good to play our games?" Cuba glanced around at the others before saying "Fine! Have it your way". Colombia produced a deck of cards from somewhere and started shuffling "You know I always do. Shall we play poker first?" Chile, always the silent one, dragged a table in-between the two beds and the boys arranged themselves around it. The way it turned out, The Inca brothers were on one side and Mexico, Cuba, and Colombia were on the other.

Colombia started dealing "Here is the way it is going to work, when you fold, you drink, when you lose, you drink. The only way to not drink is to win". He dealt quickly, distributing 2 cards to each person "Also, I have a little gold we can play for. Of course, I don't expect to lose any of it to the likes of you". New Spain flashed a smile at him "We will see about that, dear brother". Colombia placed a large pile of gold coins on the table then distributed them between the six of them. New Spain counted his coins quickly then glanced at his cards. He placed 10 coins, a fifth of his pile, in the center of the table. The others eyed him suspiciously, he glared back unfazed.

Cuba glanced down at his cards and then threw the 2 and 3 in the middle of the table "I fold. Pass that wine". Colombia smirked, poured a glass, and handed it to Cuba. Cuba took a tentative drink, obviously hesitant to go against Spain's rules. They all watched him drink and then laughed at the look of surprise on Cuba's face. Peru matched New Spain's bet. Bolivia did the same. Chile silently folded and took a drink of wine. Colombia matched the bet and added 2 more coins before placing one card face up on the middle of the table.

New Spain looked at the card and then back at his own cards, and then he added 5 more coins to the pile. Peru matched him without even glancing at his cards. Bolivia took a long look at his cards before folding. Bolivia took a small drink from the glass. Peru glared at New Spain "You are going to fold next, I guarantee it." New Spain smirked "You are wrong, you will fold next". Colombia smirked at the two of them "We shall see"; he turned over the next card. New Spain glanced at it and then smiled at Peru "It looks like you are wrong" and he threw in another 5 coins. Peru glared at him "I do not intend to lose to you"; he matched New Spain's coins.

Colombia looked at his cards and then sighed "Damn it all, I fold". He took the cup and emptied it then he filled it again. New Spain's eyes were fixed on Peru's, daring him to continue. New Spain pushed his whole pile of coins into the middle. Peru looked doubtfully down at his cards and then decided to give up. He folded "Alright, Mexica, let's see what you have". New Spain threw down his cards with a smirk. Peru looked at them for a moment, his jaw dropping, and then looked back at New Spain "You didn't have shit!" New Spain broke into gales of laughter "I was bluffing!" Peru swore under his breath as New Spain pulled the pile of coins towards him.

Colombia looked at New Spain and half-purred "That was reckless of you." Cuba scoffed "More like very stupid". New Spain laughed again "If you ask me, there is no point in betting if you aren't willing to bet it all. And if you aren't prepared to lose it all". Peru glared daggers at New Spain "We should try something else, unless we all want to lose our money to Mexica. How about a simple game of truth or dare? If you refuse to do a dare or tell a truth, you drink". Colombia smirked "To make the deal a little sweeter, when someone does complete a dare, the person who asks them must drink."

Chile shrugged; again he was the silent one. Colombia's eyes glittered mischievously "Alright, Carlos first. I dare you to make no more objections tonight about our games". Cuba grudgingly said "Fine". Colombia took another drink from the glass. Peru spoke "I have one for Enrique". Colombia shrugged "Go ahead, I will take whatever dare you propose". Peru smirked and leaned over to whisper in Colombia's ear. Colombia looked utterly shocked for a minute "You have got to be kidding me". Peru shrugged "Well, if you aren't willing to do it..." Colombia looked undecided for a second, but his pride took over "Of course I am going to do it". For once Colombia was not smirking, and then the smirk returned.

New Spain, who was sitting next to him, looked over at him curiously. Then without any warning, Colombia forced his lips against New Spain's. New Spain attempted to push Colombia away, but to no avail. Colombia gently held New Spain's face as he kissed him. New Spain stopped trying to struggle; despite himself he was enjoying this. He started kissing Colombia back and he could taste the wine on his lips. It was so good, and something about this was so right. He suddenly needed more; if this was to be his first kiss he wanted it to be amazing. He gasped as Colombia forced his lips open and pushed his own tongue into New Spain's mouth.

All the others were staring and gasping, Cuba looked hurt. New Spain began to dominate Colombia. Peru finally broke the moment "What the Hell!" They broke apart, New Spain breathing heavily. He stared at Colombia, both puzzled and enthralled. Colombia licked his lips fiercely, as though he could not get enough of the taste. Peru was still livid "What the Hell were you doing?" Columbia looked away from New Spain to Peru "I did exactly what you dared me to do". New Spain couldn't stand everyone looking at him like that. His heart was racing more than ever now. He felt Cuba's eyes on him, and he felt ashamed.

Suddenly he was angry and he wasn't sure why "You bastard! That was uncalled for! You should have turned it down". Colombia looked genuinely hurt "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to go that far. I couldn't help it…" New Spain made a disapproving sound in the back of his throat "Let's just move on"

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Alfred's arms tightened around Mexico's torso protectively "I am going to have to talk to Enrique about this incident". Mexico sighed exasperatedly "Alfred, I think you would have noticed if I still had any feelings for him". America made a very disapproving sound "Still? You mean you had feelings for him then". Mexico turned around and kissed America on the lips, and then he broke it and spoke "You worry too much. He is no threat to you." America kissed Mexico again, more hungrily, speaking as he did so "You…Mmmm…Don't have a good record with…Mmmm…Fidelity".

Mexico broke the kiss and pulled back a little "Who have you been talking to?" America looked slightly taken aback "Well…ummm…Catalina has been trying to advise me about you". Mexico threw his hands up in exasperation "Ay! I swear that woman is out to ruin my love life! Did she tell you I will fuck anything that has two legs and moves?" America looked even more taken aback "Yeah….it was something like that". Mexico sighed again, louder this time "My dear ex-girlfriend thinks so highly of me". America laughed bitterly "Weren't you two engaged at some point?" Mexico nodded "I will get to that eventually if you ever let me finish my story".

America hugged Mexico again "Go ahead, I am listening". Mexico spoke softly in America's ear "You need to promise me you won't get jealous of my past relationships". America kissed the back of Mexico's neck "I can try to do that, but if you describe sex with anyone else, I will have to say something"

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New Spain lay in bed staring at the wall, his mind reeling. One thought came to him over and over again: Homosexuality is a sin. He knew it was true, but he wished it wasn't with all his heart. Despite himself, he had enjoyed that kiss so much. He needed to confess to a priest to purge this sin. He glanced over at Cuba, who was fast asleep, and then he stood up. He snuck out of the room without making a sound. He was soon out and walking down the hall quickly, there was a chapel adjoined to the house in case anyone needed it.

Then New Spain reached the door and he heard a sound. It sounded like someone speaking; he almost thought it sounded like Colombia. He pressed his ear against the door and heard "God forgive me, I feel lust for another man". Mexico couldn't believe what he was hearing; Colombia actually meant it when he kissed him. A sudden rash, stupid thought occurred to him. His slightly wine infused mind did nothing to stop him.

He threw open the door of the church and walked across the floor. His bare feet didn't make a sound of the flagstones. He saw that Colombia was kneeling in front of the altar praying. Mexico took a deep breath before saying "So you felt it too?" Columbia turned around quickly and stared at New Spain "When did you-". New Spain shrugged "Just now, I heard you". Colombia stood up and his smirk returned, there was something hungry about it "Did you say you felt it?" New Spain's heart quickened at the burning gaze "I felt something. Something that felt like sin. I need to purge myself of it, that's all."

Colombia looked as if he was trying to judge New Spain's resolve "Why should we purge it when we both feel it?" New Spain walked up to Colombia, so that there were only a few inches between them "Nothing happened tonight. We didn't do anything. Forget. About. It.". Colombia looked determined and hungry, very hungry "I can't forget about it. Can you?" Colombia closed the space between them and put his hands on New Spain's waist. New Spain felt hot and strangely savage "Don't do this, don't tempt me".

New Spain seemed to have said something wrong; Colombia's smile widened "You are tempted then. Give in to temptation". Colombia brushed his lips against New Spain's. New Spain couldn't stand it; he pushed Columbia away "This is a sin! I serve God and I will not betray Him like this! Especially not in this holy place". New Spain turned away from Colombia; he couldn't stand to look at him. Colombia wrapped his arms around New Spain from behind and whispered seductively in his ear "Say that one more time in that cute way you do, like you actually believe it. One more time for me, mi amor". New Spain's heart was beating faster than ever now "You….You…" Colombia licked New Spain's ear "I just want you; I have for a long time".

Mexica's Aztec blood ignited and suddenly he needed to dominate. He turned around quickly and kissed Colombia full on the lips. Colombia was taken by surprise and he stepped back "What the?" Mexica felt his blood on fire, a strange smirk curled across his face "I thought you wanted this. You do, don't you?" Colombia looked confused for the first time that night "I do…but something has come over you". Mexica grabbed Colombia around the waist and pulled him close "You don't know me, not the real me. I am of Aztec blood and I will not be dominated, especially not by you".

Colombia looked shell shocked for a second and then said "I understand, I can be whatever you need, as long as I get you". Mexica smashed his lips against Colombia's. Mexica couldn't say he honestly loved Colombia, but he was fascinated by the boy. He wanted to know what love was like, but this wasn't love. His Aztec blood told him that he could play with this eager boy for pleasure then throw him away. Somehow all the morals that he had learned from Spain disappeared. He deepened the kiss and buried one of his hands in Colombia's hair.

Somehow he knew that he had to pull away now if he wanted to keep Colombia's appetite wetted. He pulled away, and allowed Colombia a moment to look over him hungrily before he turned away. Colombia called after him "You can't just leave me like this". Mexica, who had been walking away, turned back around "If you want me, then you are going to have to pursue me, I am not that easy". He turned and walked out. It took a few minutes to realize exactly what he had done. He needed to find some way to correct it.

#aph mexico #aph spain #aph fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #historical hetalia

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thestanceyg · 3 years

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Drabble Race Part C

And here are my final drabble race contributions. Once again below the cut because there’s a lot.

Ultraviolet 1 “I hate Ultraviolet,” Clint groaned. “Why did you put this movie on?”

“It’s not a cinematic masterpiece,” Darcy agreed as she grabbed her bottle of wine with a crazy straw sticking out of it. It had been a gift from Jane when she had been accepted into her PhD program. “But it reminds me of Jane and Thor and London, and I was feeling a bit nostalgic today so I put it on.”

Clint looked at her carefully.

“Is that really it?” he asked, and she wondered what he had seen that made him think it was more.

“Yeah.”

2 “This is the best band in Seattle and you’re just going to have to quietly acquiesce to being wrong if you think otherwise,” her date sniffed.

It might have been cute if there were more established. If they had been together and had time to have little inside jokes or cute little arguments that were really just veiled flirting, but this was a first date, and thus there was no context for her with regards to what appeared to be a pretty shitty attitude.

“So if I were to say Ultraviolet Primrose was better?” she asked feeling him out.

“Then we’d be done here.”

“Cool,” she said, grabbing her purse.

3 “I don’t know if Ultraviolet is the right name for this flavor,” she said with a frown as she scooped the ice cream out of the counter top maker. She and Spencer had been working on making their own experimental flavors and naming each in a cute little lab notebook he had bought just for this purpose.

“Why not?” he asked from behind her as he grabbed bowls and spoons.

“It’s move mauve than anything, and I feel like that color isn’t befitting the name.”

He looked over her shoulder and tilted his head a bit. “You might be right,” he agreed.

4 “I’ve never been to a AAA ball game,” he admitted, “but I’m glad we’re here.”

“I can’t believe you’ve lived here basically all your life and never been!” Darcy said. “This place is the best. I love small stadiums. It’s almost like the mom and pop shop of baseball.”

“Well, I’ve been kinda busy.”

“Too busy to watch baseball”

“Well id does normally last hours and honestly it doesn’t always feel like much happens.”

She gasped. “Blasphemy!” she cried.

He laughed at her. “You don’t even like baseball. We’re here for the free stickers.”

She smiled. “They were definitely worth the price of admission to the Ultraviolets game.”

5 “So, like, what does it mean if something is ultraviolet anyway?” her niece asked with wide eyes.

“Well, you know how you can see all sorts of different colors? Like with your markers?” she asked as she colored along with the little girl.

“Yeah?”

“Well sometimes there are colors that our eyes can’t even see for a variety of reasons. Ultraviolet is kinda like that. We know it exists because there are special ways to take pictures of light our eyes can’t see.”

“Weird,” the girl said as she reached for another marker without capping the last one.

“Indeed,” Darcy agreed as she snagged the lid to cap it.

6 “It’s like this special ultraviolet paint that you put on the wall and even thought you can’t see it, it has healing properties,” her mom said as she stirred the paint in the can that looked suspiciously like it was just Modge Podge with little flecks of silver glitter in it.

“Riiight,” Darcy said, blowing the word out as she tried to figure out how to tackle this one with her mom. “Errr, where did you buy it? It isn’t a brand I recognize.”

“Oh, this lady at work sells it. She’s working on a patent.”

“Right,” Darcy said again.

7 “I want to name her ultraviolet,” Darcy said as she hugged the kitten to herself.

“That’s a weird name choice,” Jane said as they picked up a cat carrier and other essentials.

“Maybe,” Darcy allowed, “but when I was little there was this neighbor that used to read the dictionary. She was the only kid my age, so we were kinda friends by proxy. Every day she would bring me a new word. Ultraviolet was the last word she ever shared with me.”

“Okay, not so weird then,” Jane said as she picked up a toy with a feather on the end. “Kinda sweet, actually.”

Black hole 1 “It’s like your room is a black hole,” Jane said with tones of both disgust and awe as she looked at the space.

“Like you don’t also have better things to do with your time than clean your room,” Darcy said. “I mean, really. I was with you in New Mexico. If I remember right, you made cleaning up the living quarters part of my intern duties.”

Jane sighed. “Yeah. Fair. I might not have room to talk, but you definitely took this to a level that even I could not compete with.”

“Thank you,” Darcy said with a satisfied smile.

2 “This class is like a black hole that sucks all the fun out of a subject I really love,” Darcy said while trying not to roll her eyes at the professor as he droned on.

“But if it was fun, people might want to take this class, and then he might actually have to put in effort,” the guy sitting next to her said.

“You’re right,” she agreed. “He’s got a good racket going on here. I mean, he’s certainly perfected it. Everyone in here is here because we have to be. You can’t get the minor without this class. No one is just signing up for it.”

“He’s an evil genius.”

3 “They call this one the black hole,” Helen said as she sat down the tray of glasses in the middle of the table. “Everyone take one!”

“Why do they call it that?” Jane asked as she looked at the almost iridescent blue color of the drink.

“Because it leaves a black hole in your memory if you have more than one,” Darcy said. “Which is a real danger because it tastes like a jolly rancher. Not a bit of alcoholic aftertaste at all.”

“Well that’s dangerous,” Maria said as she picked up her own glass. “I’m in.”

4 “I think that there’s definitely a slim chance we can survive if we put up the hypersonic shield when we start to get sucked into the black hole,” Darcy said to the captain.

“How slim?” he asked.

“A solid 20%, sir,” she said.

“More than I thought,” he replied with a considering frown. He looked around the bridge. “Anyone have a better idea?”

Everyone shook their heads in the negative.

“Well then,” he said with a clap of his hands. “Let’s do it. I love defying the odds. Let’s go down in history.”

5 “That’s a black hole,” Clint said as he pointed at the little circle of construction paper left behind by her hole punch.

She looked up at him. “Really Clint?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I was trying to make a space joke now that you’re all special with you fancy new degree in space science.”

“That’s actually kinda something different, but point taken. I appreciate the effort you put forth there.”

He smiled. “That’s me. Always putting forth just enough effort to make you have to acknowledge it.”

She couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. “Yeah. That’s why we’re friends.”

6 “The color’s called black hole,” Helen said as she reapplied her lipstick. “I’ve found that it’s a lovely deterrent for men and a great draw for the right kind of woman,” she said with a smirk.

“Get it girl,” Darcy said as she touched up her own red lips. “So I guess you’re after some pussy tonight instead of dick?”

Helen drowned a bit as she wiped a bit at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah. The last few dates I’ve had were with men and they all kinda sucked. Time for a change of pace to get me out of my loser streak.”

7 “Is that a black hole?” he asked pointing toward the monitor.

“No,” she said with a sigh. “That’s just a space where the current equipment is not strong enough to read the stars in that area because they’re very far away.

They had been playing this game for something like ten minutes now, and she wished she could just make the dude leave, but he was the dean’s son, and she had ended up somehow babysitting him. Though why a 25-year old man needed babysitting was beyond her. She looked at the clock. At least she could move onto lunch in another half hour.

“Is that a black hole?” he asked, pointing yet again.

Solar 1 “It’s called a solar sailor,” the kid at the park told her with pride. He had a small little paper airplane in his hands that he had clearly drawn suns all over. Some of them had little smiley faces on them.

“Super cool,” she said with a soft smile as she tried to lead him back toward the information kiosk. She had found him crying by the pond after he had been separated from his family. She had told him that she would walk him to the kiosk for help, and he had immediately latched onto her. “Tell me about making it,” she encouraged.

2 “Total eclipse of the heart,” she belted out as her friends clapped wildly. Investing in the at home karaoke machine was such a good idea.

“Do you think an eclipse of the heart is more of solar or lunar thing?” Jane mused once the last cords of the song were done and everyone had given her scores for her performance.

“Hmmm, probably lunar,” Helen said. “I always think lunar eclipses are way more romantic, thus a total eclipse of the heart is lunar.”

“Solar,” Maria argued. “Love blots out everything just like the eclipse blots out the sun.”

Darcy just laughed at them as she set up for Pepper’s turn.

3 “I’ve been thinking about putting solar panels out on my little balcony to power a generator,” Spencer said as they cuddled on the couch.

“Oh?” she asked, not sure what exactly he was wanting from her.

“It’s just the power has gone out here twice in the last month, and if you had been here, you wouldn’t have been able to work on your research,” he said.

Oh. Well if that wasn’t the cutest and sweetest thing Darcy had ever heard.

“I think it’s a good idea,” she said. “And thank you for thinking of me.”

“Always,” he murmured into her hair.

4 “You need some solar cream,” Thor said as he rummaged in the beach bag. Darcy shot a look at Jane who mouthed “sunscreen” at her. Well that made more sense than she had been expecting.

“You’re right,” Darcy agreed, snagging the bottle that he had just unearthed from his hands. “I am a delicate beauty and don’t want to burn.”

Jane snorted into her water bottle. “You looked like a lobster for your first week in New Mexico.”

“Wasn’t my fault that TSA confiscated my sunscreen,” she grouched as she lathered up her legs.

5 “Do you think you’ll ever get to travel beyond our solar system?” Fitz asked her.

“I don’t know,” Darcy said, her eyes still on her screen. “I mean, very few people have done it so far, and those were pretty extraordinary circumstances.”

“But would you want to?”

Darcy considered the idea and her fingers stilled on the keys. “I’m not sure,” she finally said. “I think I might want to, but there’s so much that I’d hate to leave behind here.”

“Like?” he asked. She couldn’t see him, but she could imagine his face scrunched up in consideration.

“You.”

6 “I refuse to get on that monstrosity,” Steven said as he looked up at the Solar Scream roller coaster. “I don’t even know what witchcraft you used to get me here in the first place, but you will not be dragging me onto that.”

“Of really, doctor?” she asked, batting her eyelashes a bit.

“That won’t work on me,” he growled.

“Won’t it?” she asked as she ran her fingers up his arm.

“No,” he said stubbornly.

“That’s too bad,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “I guess that means I won’t be able to give you a reward when we get home then.”

He turned to look at her. “Maybe I could be convinced,” he said with a smirk.

7 “Was that a solar flare?” she asked with a quiet sigh. “I thought we had weathered the last of them.”

“Shhhh,” Jane said as she looked at the output of the machines they had built from junk they had found in this strange land where they had ended up thanks to something Loki had done.

“You think it might come back?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper on the wind.

“It might if we keep talking,” Jane said, tension rolling off her. Neither of them wanted those creatures to come back.

Cluster 1 “Peanut clusters are the best, and I will not have you besmirching their good name,” Darcy said with a haughty tone and put upon airs.

“Oh is that so?” Rabbit asked, trying to match her tone but failing miserably. “Well, madam, I think that means we are at an impasse.”

“Undoubtedly,” she agreed, her nose up in the air.

He cracked first, a small chuckle that turned into a full on belly laugh as soon as Darcy lost her composure and snorted when trying to keep herself from breaking.

“But really?” he asked through his laughter.

“Really,” she said. “They’re pretty tasty.”

2 They were standing in a cluster under the awning of the theater as they waited for everyone to arrive so they could purchase their tickets.

“This is weird, right?” Darcy said as she joined the group and they made their way to the ticket window.

“Yeah,” Jane agreed as she continued to look around the area. “I can’t believe this will be the first movie that I’ve seen in a theater in over a year.”

“Right?” Helen said. “I wish that they were requiring proof of vaccination though.” She looked around the other clusters of people. “You just know some of them are anti-vax,” she sniffed.

3 “Did you know you have a cluster of freckles just here?” he asked as he ran his fingers over the back of her shoulder before his lips descended and pressed softly into the skin.

“I didn’t,” she said as she swept her hair out of his way and his lips slipped from her shoulder up her neck and behind her ear.

“You’re so good at that,” she said with a contented sigh.

“I’m glad you think so,” he said with a gentle chuckle. “I’d like to take this moment to show you just what else I’m good at,” he said as his lips returned to their path.

4 “I want a chocolate cluster buster bar,” Jane determined after her nearly ten minute perusal of what was on offer at the small mom and pop ice cream shop.

“Good choice,” Darcy said. “It’s definitely a favorite of mine, but I’m more in a citrus mood, so I’m going to go with the lemon sunshine.” She placed their orders and then led Jane out to the small grouping of benches with large shade umbrellas.

“This was a perfect choice,” Jane said as she took a bite and then stretched her neck. “We’ve been working too hard.”

“No kidding,” Darcy agreed.

5 “Does there seem to be something strange about that star cluster?” Darcy asked as she tried to zoom in a bit on the area she thought felt wrong.

“It does,” Fitz said as he pressed close to her to get a look for himself. She tried not to be too aware of how his warmth seeped into her. Now was not the time to let her crush come roaring back into her life. Now was the time to figure out what the hell was going on in sector AV-37.

“I think that maybe there’s some sort of interference,” he said, pulling away a bit. Darcy let out the breath she had been holding.

6 “If you cluster them like so,” the instructor said, “you can make the whole arrangement take on a more whimsical approach.” She moved over to the next vase and pointed to the same set of flowers. “Look at how the same cluster looks totally different when placed in this more formal arrangement,” she said.

Darcy looked down at her own flowers and considered them. She understood what the teacher was saying, but she just couldn’t decide what she wanted to do with hers.

“This class was such a fun idea,” Helen said next to her as she contemplated her own flowers.

7 “Bunch up some more!” the photographer called. “No, not like that. That looks like some sort of high school prom lines thing. I want more of a natural cluster,” he directed.

“The fuck does that mean?” Darcy asked under her breath. The man kept yelling things like that at them but never giving more specific directions like “Jane move two steps left” or “Helen take one step forward.”

“Who knows,” Helen said, just as irritated. “Pepper is lucky we love her. I would have never agreed to be part of her bridal party if I had any inkling it was going to be like this.”

“Amen,” Darcy agreed.

#darcylanddrabblerace #revengers

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