#PVC Pipes Buyers

[chronic-ghost]

Part Two + Epilogue

A/N: this is an approximation of what I envisioned reader wearing the night of the premiere. the monologues come from the works of elena jacobs and lemony snicket.

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NOVEMBER 

Snow had come hesitantly to the city. Sprinkling down and melting against the black tar like salt in soup, the weather seemed unable to make up its mind. That nasty wind would flush down narrow alleyways, snagging up unsuspecting hats and everything not firmly held down, bringing with it that biting cold. This late in the season, the gorgeous bloom of golds and reds fluttering in trees was gone, torn down by that spiteful wind. The gnarled, brown bodies of leaves littered the streets, drain pipes swallowing them down when that first drift of snow melted into gray water. New York was fighting an oncoming winter, sinking its heels in and rejecting the inevitable. Everyone else just wished it would pick a side.

You know you’re not, not really, but sometimes you feel it: old. At thirty-two, things tend to crack a little louder than they used to. Hangovers lasted two days, not two hours, and how you used to live your life with only hours of sleep for weeks at a time completely baffles you. Sure, it was probably a lot of coke, but god, these hours are going to kill you. 

Production for Andrew’s play is in full swing. Some days you never leave the back side of the curtain, too entrenched in building, then painting the forty-two foot moveable walls. Between you and the rest of the tech crew, you had managed to solve the weight problem: because of its light-weight nature, the walls had a tendency to fall forward or back, basically the opposite direction of where they were pushed. But late last Thursday, with a few bolts from a nail gun, a couple of thick screws, and several PVC pipes, the walls stabilized. A collective, exhausted cheer went up, some moved to tears after hours of frustration. After that the crew went home . . . and you went to open the gallery. 

Marie helps as much as she can. Opening early when you can’t and closing late when you have passed out in your office chair. But as financial manager and co-owner, she has her own responsibilities. Hands to shake and meetings with potential buyers and artists. She’s taken over much of the front-facing work associated with running a gallery, as you had both agreed when you agreed you’d handle Andrew’s project, but there’s still so much to do. Opening night looms large in your mind and you are simultaneously excited and horrified. Once it's over, you plan on sleeping for two weeks straight. 

There are some bright spots, though. Your crew is a bunch of college kids from NYU interning, but they teach you about the world of TikTok outside of being the marketing arm for the gallery and whatever the fuck flossing is. You overheard one of them call Dieter, “girl dinner” and you absolutely knew better than to ask what that meant. They’re funny and curious and love to learn. Gives you hope for this goddamn world.

And then, there’s the opportunities you get to see bits of the show before anyone else. When rehearsals are on, the building stops, quiets for a few minutes. Like ants, the stagehands scurry out into the seats, relieved to have nothing to do for a bit, and eager to see where all their hard work is going. 

You find your place at the far back of the house, out of the lights of the stage, and you watch him. And he’s good. He’s so fucking good it makes your heart twist in your chest. The rest of the cast is great in their own right, but your eyes remain glued to him and him alone. His performance is magnetic. You feel it in your bones. You could watch him on a stage for the rest of your life. You don’t miss acting, but you do miss having him as a scene partner. 

For what it’s worth, he never looks at Emily longer than he has to.

You twist your wrist, growling at the pain, the muscle in your forearm cramping like it always did when you overworked yourself painting. With the walls built, that left only the actual artwork to be done and if your team were master carpenters, master artists they were not. You set them to work painting the base layer, but it was on you to bring those designs Andrew approved to life. 

You are sweaty, hungry, and every time you move, something else hurts. By your watch, it’s close to seven and Andrew usually lets the cast go home around seven thirty. You’re a more benevolent overlord; you let your team go around seven fifteen. 

But at seven on the dot, the black curtain moves back and several members of the cast head towards the back door, animatedly chatting amongst themselves. Like wildfire, some gossip spreads from the cast to the crew, eyes lighting up and suddenly reinvigorated. 

“What are they talking about?” You ask Liam, one of the stagehands, who shrugs.

“No idea, but –,”

“Andrew is giving us the weekend off!” Sarah in her too big overalls comes bounding over, practically vibrating. “He’s hosting a party at Shandy’s.”

Shandy’s is actually three different venues built into one like legos. In the center was an open air stage. If live music wasn’t playing, then the latest sports game played on the high definition screen. On the right was a bar, aptly in the style of an old tiki lounge. And on the left, was a low-maintenance seafood bar and grill: fish and chips, fried oysters, and hush puppies. It sounded fun but you never much had the inclination to go sniffing your nose around temptation. 

“You’re coming, right, Natalie?” Sarah asks excitedly. But the idea that you have a second of free time to yourself, much less to spend it with drunk people, is laughable.

“Oh, I don’t think so, Sarah. There’s gallery stuff – Marie hasn’t had a break in weeks and –,”

“You hear the good news?” Dieter’s delighted tone splits apart your little trio and he comes loping over with a grin on his face. “We’ve got the weekend off.”

“Hell yeah!” Liam pumps his fist. “But Natalie here doesn’t wanna come to the party at Shandy’s.”

Dieter’s face falls. “Why not?”

You frown, not feeling like you need to explain yourself to a bunch of college students, or Dieter himself for that matter. You stand up, mindful of the tension in your lower back, and wipe the paint on your hands on your overalls. After working with you for several weeks, Sarah’s bright enough to pick up on your irritation simmering low. 

She eyes him as she steps forward. “We’re gonna head out for the night, if that’s okay?”

You nod at the both of them, your mouth still twisted into a frown. 

“I have a job outside of this,” you huff at Dieter, as the kids scurry away. “A busy full time job and I just can’t –,”

“What if I pick you up?” Dieter asks. How, after all these years, could he still make you feel like you are the only person in the room? “Andrew’s also doing a bunch of events for the out-of-towners, and the last stop before dinner is a bar. Which I’d like to avoid for obvious reasons. So lemme meet you at the gallery and take you to the dinner.” He smiles relaxed. 

“I just don’t know, Dieter.”

“Bring Marie,” he says simply. “You both have earned a night off. I’ll pick you both up and take you back after dinner. I’ll help you mail invoices, if you’d like.”

Knowing exactly what his ADHD does to his brain with numbers, you shake your head, giving up the ghost and grinning. “That’s really not necessary, but, um, I’ll think about it. Lemme talk to Marie and see what she thinks.”

He nods, watching as the backstage empties out. Less people, less noise. Dieter’s mouth twitches.

“I can help you with painting too. You and I both know I’ve got a shit head for numbers, but this, I think I can do. With a little direction.”

He flashes you a smile and you inject your thumbnail into your closest finger. 

“Um, maybe? I’m exhausted right now and probably shouldn’t be making any executive decisions.”

“You want me to walk you home?”

Your chest swells at his sincerity. “Just to the subway stop if you don’t mind.”

To your enormous (disparagingly, staggeringly large) surprise, Marie actually agrees.

“I’ve been staring at excel spreadsheets so long I think I’m going cross-eyed,” she says from behind the office desk you share that next morning. She massages her eyeballs with the heel of her palm. “We’re in a good place with the fundraiser announcements for the holidays and there aren’t any upcoming tours we have to schedule.”

You know this, but you let her talk through it outloud, hoping she’ll stumble across something that’ll make her change her mind. But she doesn’t.

She shrugs. “Tell him I’ll buy him dessert if he gets a car with heated seats.” 

After your initial confrontation at your brownstone, Marie had seemingly changed her stance on having Dieter around. While she wasn’t about to offer to him to stop by, she most likely wasn’t still considering murdering him in his sleep. You wonder if it had anything to do with his consistent concern about your wellbeing – making sure you ate breakfast at those six AM calltimes and walking you home at night in the freezing cold, despite your protests. He even made the very risky joke that Daddy’s visitation hours were over and it was time to return you to Mommy . . . in front of Marie. And again to your enormous surprise, she laughed. 

It was progress. Progress towards what, you weren’t entirely sure.

You smile at your friend, gray eye bags and all. Maybe this is the universe’s way of sending its approval; yes, this is okay to want.

“I’ll call him later today.”

It’s the last tour on a Friday before a long weekend. Meaning, none of the students are paying attention and a few appear asleep on their feet. You go on with your explanation of brushwork, of pattern recognition, that artists' use of color is almost as distinctive as their signature. You sound boring even to yourself, your quips falling flat and references feeling awkwardly outdated. Nothing could rouse these zombies and their glassy-eyed stares. The herd shuffles along as you take them to the charcoal exhibit. 

This actually has you excited, charged even. You talk about the care that using this particular medium requires, that there are so rarely do-overs and mistakes are costly. The artist must be precise with their vision, focused, and above all else, determined. 

Your impassioned speech for the arts wakes up no one and you fight back a frown.

Jesus Christ, gimme something to work with. 

As you try and remember the next part of your tour, something beyond the crowd of students moves. You’re halfway through describing past and present famous artists who worked with charcoal, when you catch his eyes.

Dieter leans up against one of the white walls, a real one, not a hanging salon wall, his arms crossed and his converse notched against his ankle. You expect a smirk, a tease, so this is what you get up to when I’m not around, but whatever is on his face its not that. 

It’s . . .

He’s smiling. 

Like he’s proud of you. 

You attempt to stifle the blush erupting up your face as you turn back to the artwork. If the students can catch the tremble in your voice, they don’t say anything. 

Through the glass window, you see their bus pull up and stop by the curb, a beautiful glowing miracle.

“And that’s the end of our tour,” you say quickly. “Thank you for coming on this tour. Feel free to browse the gift shop, but you are free to go. ”

You don’t physically shoo them out the door, but your fingers clench just the same. 

“You’re good.” Logically, you know you didn’t hear him coming, didn’t smell his cologne. But you sense him all the same. You don’t jump at his voice suddenly at your shoulder. You turn and smile back at him, throwing your hip out dramatically.

“Had some practice acting in front of crowds before. Maybe you’ve seen my work?”

He shrugs, swinging his hands into that tan coat – which he wouldn’t let you pay to get drycleaned – as he looks around the gallery.

“Maybe, I have,” he sniffs, “don’t get a big head about it.”

You laugh as he wanders back as though drawn to the art. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot your contribution and curse yourself for not tearing it down when you had the chance. 

You sidle up next to him, hoping that if he got that far, you could deter his attention elsewhere. But he doesn’t notice your anxiety, your worrying ball of fear. Instead, he’s quiet, mouth soft, eyes slow to move across the exhibits.

“You know, you always were braver than me.” Your heart catapults into your throat, gaze wrenching away from your dark secret to him, to his face, to search desperately for a hint of a lie. 

“W-what do you mean?”

“This, all of this,” he swings his hand out either to indicate the rest of the artwork or the building itself, “it’s so fucking incredible, Natalie. I let you see one painting of mine and I wanted to die from embarrassment. But this . . . you . . .” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t do this.” 

“Do you still paint?” 

There are flashes in your memory, more feelings than anything else, of that time in New Orleans. You’ve told your therapists as much as you can remember about it, about the drugs you took with him, how quickly it spiraled out of control. And then comes the most painful thing to admit: it was the first and only time in your life you felt truly happy. Having Dieter all to yourself was a bright spot that nothing, not even time, or anger, or heartbreak could ever extinguish.

And in those flashes of memory, you remember waking up and watching him paint gorgeous things on those green walls. Watching him paint on you. 

Your heart aches, throbbing for just a minute. He’s been back in your life for months now, and you’re still convinced he’ll vanish the second you’re not looking.

Dieter nods, thoughtful. “Yeah, sometimes. It’s more of a stress reliever than anything else.” 

“I get that. I tried out ceramic work before I found out I’m complete shit at it. But it felt good to punch something gooey.”

He grins. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod, adding, “moved on to painting giant murals after that. Pollock would have been proud.”

He follows you as you lead him back, into the long and winding guts of the gallery. 

“I tried a lot of things after . . . after rehab. Not a lot stuck, but at least I wasn’t choking on my own feelings anymore.”

Your unconscious feet have brought you to the red painting your other tour group pointed out. It’s big, pulsating red, black specks invading the scarlet colors like an infection. 

“Lots of love and nowhere to put it,” he murmurs to the painting. 

His curls are just as lush, just as beautiful as they are on your charcoal sketch. As they are in your memories. God, his neck, his fucking neck –  

He catches you staring and grins bashfully. “Sorry, what you said reminded me of that scene in Fleabag. When she confesses to the tax guy.”

You swallow around the knot in your throat, nodding your only possible action. And then he turns and you feel your knees buckle. 

“Did you paint because of me?” The brown in his eyes is soft, overwhelming. Seizes you and nails you to the floor. The noise that would leave your mouth if you open it would come directly from your heart.

The gallery is quiet, empty. Silent as a church. 

But then he steps back, resetting the distance between you. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. I’m crossing a line here and –,”

“Yes.” It’s gentle, quiet, your admission. Your confession. “Yes. You said you picked it up in rehab and I . . . I don’t know. I guess I wanted to see if it helped me too.”

He worries his lip, his hands fidgeting in his pocket. “And did it help? Painting?”

You huff and cross your arms as you stare up at the art you made with so much unhinged rage and painful love pouring out of you. You had been sure your tears were going to ruin the paint. 

“Yeah. It did. Unfortunately, your fucked up matched my fucked up in absolutely every way possible.” His nose flares as he stares at the ground. It hurts him still, after all these years. You inhale, the smell of the space calming your nerves, Dieter’s cologne a heady undertone. Trembling barely visible, you reach forward and take his hand. It’s warm and heavy and you try to find a memory where it was gentle against your face, but it doesn’t come. Your brain longs for new memories of him, hungry, desperate after surviving on scraps. He stops breathing regularly as you intertwine your fingers.  “For what it’s worth, Dieter . . . it was nice not to feel so alone.”

The noise he makes is quiet, almost imperceptible. Could have been a deep breath, a groan, a sigh. But it is something much more vulnerable, much more punctured than that. 

You hold him a bit longer before letting him go. 

“I don’t get it,” he mutters quietly, staring at your wrist. “I don’t get why you aren’t fucking furious with me.”

“I was,” you confirm. “For a long time, I was. I hated you, Dieter. But I can’t be mad at you without being mad at myself and I’ve learned to forgive both.” 

He closes his eyes briefly, lashes thick as they obscure that beautiful brown. “I could have said no. I could have – stopped it, before it became anything.”

“You and I both know that’s not true.” 

It's careless, throwing around suggestions about fate and destiny and the thing that binds all living things. Your gaze lifts from his lips to his forehead when he looks back at you. 

“You’re right,” he hums. “You were, we were . . . it was an addiction I wasn’t prepared to deal with at the time.” 

“Did it get better? Dealing with your . . . addiction.” 

You want to think he’s looking at your lips as you face the painting again.  

“Nope,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Had to quit cold turkey. But this one, uh, this one doesn’t come with any nicotine patches.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “Those things smell disgusting.” 

Something buckles as it crosses his face. He sticks his hands into his pockets again. “Yeah. But I would have preferred it to the alternative.”

New York had made a decision by the time Marie locks up the gallery behind her. The sky is a throbbing purple and thick snowflakes flutter against your eyelashes. The sharp wind had surrendered, winter making its final claim over the city, and it started snowing with confidence, with surety. 

White flecks cling to your scarf as ahead of you, Dieter opens the car door for Marie. Desperate to get out of the cold, she practically launches herself across the leather seats, her little body always cold as it is. 

“Did you seriously get a driver with this car?” You shake your head at him as you follow Marie. He smirks as he climbs in after you.

“I’m only partially responsible with a credit card now. Besides, New York drivers are so mean and my fragile heart can’t take it.” 

It was a simple town car, but with the seats facing inward like a limo. Marie sits with her hands over the air vent in the floor with obvious relief on her face. She cracks an eye open to Dieter as he shuts the door and the car lurches into traffic.

“What do you want?” She scowls begrudgingly.

“What do you mean?”

“You went above and beyond the request for seat warmers. I owe you dessert. What do you want?”

Dieter chuckles, glancing at you as Marie all but curls up against the vent. 

“Rain check?” 

She hums and closes her eyes, her head lolling against the window. Dieter sits across from you, his feet tucked in between yours, a content smile on his face. 

“Thank you,” you murmur quietly. The cold has left a pink blush across his cheeks and it looks wonderful on him. His hands flex by his sides.

“Least I could do.” 

The only sound for a while is the rush of air coming out of the vent, the faint honk of a car in the distance. Over Dieter’s shoulder, you watch the slow trickle of snow turn more consistent, flakes turning to chunks. It looks deathly cold out there.

You meet Dieter’s gaze – only because he had been watching you first. 

“Do you ever miss warm and sunny California?” you tease quietly, mindful of Marie. 

“Sure.” Dieter shrugs and folds up his long leg over his knee. “But I don’t think California misses me.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” You cock your head to the side, watching the snowfall again. “California has a lot of good memories with you.” 

“Well, if California ever wants me back, she’ll have to give me a call.” 

You laugh. “She’s far too mysterious for that.” 

“I’d like to think I know what a lady wants.” His voice is low, rumbling, like the heated vents. You glance at him but he’s already staring out the window.

You unbutton your coat and sit in silence for the rest of the ride. 

Shandy’s is, presumably, packed. Hot bodies desperate to get out of the cold stand shoulder to shoulder in the pretend-crab shack. The irony of a beachfront-themed restaurant while outside a blizzard is brewing, is not exactly on anyone’s mind as they cram further in, away from the windows and drafts. The smell of fried fish makes your mouth water and these are the times you miss having an ice-cold glass of beer. With your arm wrapped around a sleepy Marie, Dieter stands on his toes to try and find Andrew and the other cast and crew who showed up. He drops back down, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, saying something to you, but it’s loss in the buzz of the crowd.

“What?” You yell across three feet. He shakes his head and, without warning, takes your hand, diving into the crowd. You have only a second to revel in the warmth of his palm before you have to take an active stance to avoid being elbowed or stepped on. Marie latches on to your arm tighter, one good jostle away from being lost in the sea of people. Dieter ducks and weaves with shocking precision, his wide chest cutting a path for you and Marie behind him. Someone steps back and you stumble into his shoulder. 

He glances down at your intertwined hands, as if to make sure you are still there. You can’t quite read what’s in his eyes. 

“Nearly there,” he murmurs before diving back into the crowd. Like the parting of the red sea, Dieter manages to pull the three of you through the knot of people and over to where a section of tables and booths had been roped off. Andrew leaps to his feet, his face red and eyes blurry, the instant he sees you. 

“You made it! I thought we lost Dieter a while ago!” He embraces each of you, ending with Marie who glares up at him.

“I’m hungry.” A sleepy Marie was one thing. A hangry Marie was a whole other beast entirely. 

Andrew chuckles and slings an arm over her shoulder. “I’m pretty sure we ordered everything on the menu twice, so dig in. All goes on the company card.” Marie’s eyes the size of silver dollars as she stumbles towards the feast, Andrew turns back to you. “What about you? Hungry?”

There’s something warm in your palm and it takes you a minute to realize it’s Dieter’s hand. You’re still holding hands – and smooth as ever, Dieter casually lets go as one of the cast members comes to give him a hug. 

“You’re good, right?” He says to you, as they break apart. “You can come sit with us if you want.”

By some miracle, you spot someone who looks like Sarah from the back so you shake your head.

“Nah. I think I see my people over there.” And then you do something incredibly stupid: you clap Dieter on the shoulder, like an uncle would pat his neurotic nephew. “If Marie comes looking for me, tell her I’m in the back.” 

He glances at your hand on his shoulder and then nods. “Sure. Uh, have fun?”

You are sweating beneath your woolen coat from the body heat of a hundred drunk idiots and now you can actually feel it on your hairline.

“Yeah. You too.” 

You spin on your heel in the direction of your salvation, internally cringing at your own stupidity. If this girl isn’t Sarah, I am so totally and completely fucked. 

The girl was, in fact, Sarah. Liam’s there too and a few of the other NYU interns. The art director sits in a booth nearby, talking to a couple of the students, so you don’t entirely feel like a lecherous weirdo hanging out with a bunch of nineteen year olds. 

Many of them come up to you, offering to buy you a drink as a premature celebration for opening night, which is only just a week away. But you merely ask for water, or a coke. They obliged, curious, but respectful, staying for a while to chat until the ice in their glasses melts and they’re off for a refill. 

In the early days of your partnership with her, Carla told you that addictions are formed out of habits: you turn to drugs or alcohol every time because you have no other tools with which to self-regulate. That you quite literally fill the silences by drinking because the alternative is unbearable. 

So, you count it as a small personal, private win that you can lean against a railing, quiet, and watch the crowds of people without ever feeling like you need a drop to top it off.

But . . . there is a want. A missing of something no longer there. You toss back the ice to crack it between your molars before it melts. 

“Hey there, stranger!” Dieter bounces up the few steps to the small alcove you’ve propped yourself up in. His cheeks are flush and his hairline is wet. That gorgeous jacket is nowhere to be seen. He shoulders up next to you and you are consumed with his radiating body heat.

A delighted scream goes up from the crowd as the opening chords of Sweet Caroline begin and the walls vibrate with a triumphant “bum bum bum.” 

“Someone’s having a good time,” you practically shout over the bad and off-key singing, eying him up and he chuckles, swirling around the brown, bubbly liquid in his cup. 

“Some of the kids wanted to go dancing,” he yells back, “and bet I couldn’t floss or whatever, so sue me if I’m a little sweaty.” 

He drops his head and rubs his sweaty forehead against your shoulder. 

“Ew! Dieter – get off!” You giggle and shove him away from you. Hekers as he stumbles against the railing. He sniffs his shirt.

“Blegh – I think I can already smell myself.”

Sobering, you watch him as he presses the cool cup against his forehead. He catches you watching.

“What?” He asks and pushes the sweaty ends of his hair out of his face. 

You turn your head to his ear so you don’t have to screech over Neil Diamond’s most famous song for white people. “You look . . .” You can’t really find the right words now, opting for staring at a freckle on his neck until they come to you. “You look happy, I guess.” 

The rapturous smile curled around his lips fades, his eyes caught on the melting ice in his cup. This close, your shoulders touch and he curls around you, like he’s got a secret. You’ve learned a thing or two from your therapist so you wait until he’s ready.

The crowd is insatiable, screaming and howling as the final chords play, and another plucky song starts up. 

“Once upon a time, these kinda things were a struggle for me.” He nods to the crowd, the bar, the alcohol. “Either I’d get black out drunk and wake up next to my PA or a stripper named Candy. And then, when you met me, I was straddling sobriety and my failing marriage.” Another party, a hotel, a blue sparkling pool. Wanting nothing more to push him back into his room and unbuckle his pants on top of his linen bedsheets. Dieter drops his head away, his forearm tense against yours. He thumbs the edge of his cup, preparing it for his admission. “And then . . . I was going out of my mind trying not to think about you.”

You can’t admonish him. You already know this, how you had been the image in his mind he pictured when he fucked his fist, long before viewing party at the director’s house. But it feels new, fresh, like he’s confessing all over again. Like the feeling persists. 

“Dieter, I . . .” 

His mouth is soft, beard wet, neck sticky with sweat, but his eyes burn you. Threaten to singe the skin from your bones.

“Old habits die hard, I think.”

His thumb presses against your wrist, his big hand covering yours against the wooden bar, pinning you – you can’t move forward or pull away. The heat of his chest throbs against your stuttering ribcage, the fingertips of his other hand twitching against yours at your side, seeking out your knuckles and then jerking away. His inhale draws your chin up to his, you’re so close you can see every memory etched in the lines around his eyes, his pulsating skin above the vein in his neck – the way his lips part when you meet his gaze. He murmurs your name and the ghost of his kiss swoops down your spine, choking your lungs, robbing you of air. Heavy lashes soft against his cheeks, he breathes, gives you whatever is left inside of him and you swallow it down, inches from his mouth. 

Here you come again

Just when I'm about to make it work without you

You look into my eyes and light those dreamy eyes

And pretty soon I'm wondering how I came to doubt you

In the lofty silence between you, the Dolly Parton lyrics are audible, the crowd decidedly less familiar with the words. The bubble of sound surrounding you, enclosing you and him, breaks, the casual hum of a bar returning, and the outside world suddenly exists again.  

He blinks at you as neither of you can ignore the song any more. 

Here you come again

Looking better than a body has a right to

And shaking me up so, that all I really know

Is here you come again, and here I go

“Smoke?” You squeak.

He nods quickly, pushing you gently on your low back. “We gotta get the fuck outta here before they play Jolene.”

It’s nearing 1AM when Marie finally stumbles out of Shandy’s, drunk and warm and full of french fries. 

“‘Hn don’ even ca-are I’m over thirty n’ drunk as hell.” She mutters into your shoulder. Heavy virgin snow sits heavy on the ground, only a few imprints of shoes left behind. You hold her close, worried about her stumbling and yanking you both to the ground. Dieter has gone ahead to flag the car down. 

“You say that now but wait until the hangover, sweetie,” you laugh and she squeezes you. 

“Hmm, you’re maybe right.”

Bold headlights flash on the street ahead as the town car pulls up against the curb. Dieter jogs up, leaving the car door open behind him. 

“Gimme Drunky Pants.” You help him hold Marie up right before he bends, scooping her up by her knees and cradling her to his chest.

“Dieter, be careful,” you frown. “It’s fresh snow. You could slip.” 

Marie lifts her head, her arms looped around his neck, squinting. “Am I Drunky Pants?”

“Yeah, Drunky Pants,” Dieter chuckles as he leads you to the car. “It’s a good thing you weigh about a buck fifty soaking wet.” 

“Hey, pal, ‘m at least two dollars.” She holds up three fingers. She tries to find you over his shoulder. “Natalie, call my lawy’r, they’re takin’ me to jail.”

You brush her wet hair out off her forehead just outside the door. “I’ve got bail money, don’t worry about it.”

Dieter snorts and climbs to the car, minding Marie’s head as it goes limp on her neck. He eases her onto one of the seats as her eyes flutter open and shut.

“ ‘re such a good friend, Nat-il-ee. I h’ve bail money for you too.” 

You shut the door after them and Dieter raps the glass, indicating to the driver to go on. He sits back down as Marie’s hand touches his knee.

“ ‘r we friends, Die’er? We’re frien’s right?” 

You bite your lip, trying to keep from ruining what could be a very sweet moment, as Dieter pats her hand. 

“Yeah, Drunky, we’re friends.”

“I’m not Drunky, you’re Drunky . . . wait, no, guess y’re not.” With a sigh, Marie rolls over and faces the plush seat. “Good night.” 

Dieter meets your eyes across the car, your teeth tight against your lips, and he shakes his head, grinning like a mad man. Don’t ruin it for her. 

You nod, snorting down a giggle. You take out your phone and snap one picture. Just for memorabilia.  

DECEMBER 

The morning of Opening Night

The concrete floor is cold even through your thick socks and hard-bottom slippers. The low window is shut and has been locked for weeks now, but the icy air managed to sneak in anyway. A woolen shawl around your shivering shoulders, you shuffle towards the stack of shelves at the back corner of your basement. Your pottery wheel sits clean and unused, the prospect of either hauling it up to the kitchen or freezing your ass off down here equally unappealing. 

You store things down here that are either seasonal, like decorations and bug spray, or things that are too big to fit somewhere upstairs. Or, in the case of what you’re looking for, things that weigh too much. 

It’s on the bottom shelf in the back, like it always is. You realize now that you’ve unintentionally stored it in a place of shame or embarrassment, a dirty secret you can only look at when it’s cold and all the lights are off. But that’s not how you feel about it. You slide it off its shelf, the only thing here that isn’t covered in a layer of grime that accumulates over items in basements. The buckles are cold under your hands and you feel like you should apologize. So you do. Silently, you make a promise that it’ll no longer live in the basement, that under the bed, easier to reach, might be a better home for it. 

After all, you think, after tonight, you might want to show it to him. 

Breathing out puffs of white air, you tighten your shawl over your shoulders and make the slow climb back up to the warmth.

Opening Night - Premiere of Homeward with You directed by Andrew Young

You puff out your cheeks, air rushing out between your lips painted the color of pomegranate, deflating entirely, as you swish the emerald green folds of your dress back and forth in the mirror. At the store, you loved it immediately and Marie audibly squealed, repeating that on the point of death, you had to promise to buy this dress for the premiere. 

Now, you think it fits awkwardly, the waist too tight and the loose shoulders unable to settle right. The high collar around your neck threatened to choke you out, your overheated skin uncomfortably itchy beneath the wool. 

This is stupid. I look ridiculous. I’m changing immediately –

“If you try to take that off, I’m tackling you to the ground.” 

Marie shakes her head as she slips silver studs into her ear, her own black dress stunningly elegant yet remarkably simple. Her short hair is coiffed, tucking around her ear in a way that would make any flapper girl sick with envy. 

“But it doesn’t look right,” you whine. “I look like an asparagus!” 

She rolls her eyes and picks your earrings up from your vanity, your gold necklace looped between her fingers. Her smooth brow is furrowed as she gently slips your earrings on, softly plugging the backs. She is quiet, contemplative. 

“Did I ever tell you I wanted to be you when I grew up?” She asks quietly. 

You frown at her in the mirror as she goes to put on the other earring. “That’s ridiculous. You of all people know what a complete nightmare my life has been.”

“Yeah, but you’re still here, aren’t you?” She unhooks the chain of your necklace. “You are without a doubt the most tenacious person I’ve ever met. You’re brave and funny and smart. Everything I ever wanted in a big sister.” 

The sharp flush of tears in your eyes threatens to smear your mascara and you catch her arm as it rests against your shoulder to clasp your necklace together. She stills and you look her in the eye. 

“You’re my best friend, you know that?” You ask her, your voice tight. 

She puts her arms around you, her head on your shoulder, her heels adding that extra height, and you watch each other in the mirror. 

“Of course, I know that. I just want you to be happy.” Her tone changes and you can’t find her meaning in her eyes.

“I am happy,” you say, firmly. “I’m happy with this life we built.” 

She kisses your temple. “No, you’re not. But you could be.”

The falling snow flickers and sparkles in the bright lights of the theater, the sidewalks clear for now. As the car approaches, through the window you read the name of the production up on the marquee in giant bold letters, his name just below it. Your stomach tightens.

The tires squeak and you climb out of the cab, Marie just behind you. No one greets you and there are no flashing camera lights. There are a few journalists, trade reporters, critics but they stand around, relaxed, smoking or talking amongst themselves. It’s a relatively quiet affair, not uncommon for productions of this size. You feel the brief press of disappointment before boxing it away. 

The lobby is warm, with bordeaux floors and wooden paneled walls. An ancient staircase spills out to greet its guests, rich, shining banisters peering down from the second floor. A smiling suit-and-bowtie bartender waits by the coat check-in desk, converted from the old ticket sales corner used during the theater’s glory days. Marie offers to take your coat as your phone starts to ring. 

Fighting between your coat and getting your phone, you answer it without checking the caller.

“Hello?”

“Hey there.” Dieter.

Your mouth dries and you glance at Marie chatting with the coat check-in girl. Quietly, you make your way over behind the grand staircase, a little out of sight.

“Dieter, shouldn’t you be getting ready?” 

“I can do both. Talk to you and put on this eyeliner that makes me cry.” You fight a smile, your hand holding your elbow, shoulders hunching towards the sound of his voice. “It’s okay, you can laugh. It was funny. I’m funny.” 

“Dieter, did you call for a reason?” You know he can’t physically see you roll your eyes, but he’s deserving of it anyway. 

“Yeah. Um, well, actually I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“Of course. What do you need?” 

“If you’re in the lobby, can you look over by the old phone booths?” Annoyingly vague occasionally, but cryptic, Dieter is not. You peer around the wall, your gaze running across the lobby. Sure enough, by one of the other theater entrances sits five old wooden phone booths. Only a few still hold the rotary boxes, but in one on the end sits a small woman with white hair. “Do you see a lady there in a silver dress in one of them?”

“Yeah, I do. Who is she, Dieter?” 

With an exasperated chuckle, he says, “okay, this you can’t laugh at. She’s my therapist.”

“What?”

“Okay, ex-therapist. I met her in rehab and I stuck with her after I got out. But then about five years ago she retired and she referred me to someone else. We kept in touch and became really good friends. I flew her out here to see my play and I was wondering . . . if you could keep her company.” 

Your mouth dropped further and further open. “Dieter, I . . . I don’t know . . .”

“She doesn’t bite,” he laughs. “And don’t worry, she only knows only most of the details of our sex life.”

“DIETER!”

“I’m kidding – I’m kidding!” You can picture him hunched over on the chair in the dressing room, laughing himself silly. He sighs, giggles subsiding. “Okay, look, she knows you who are, but I don’t talk about that stuff with her anymore.” His voice drops, quiet and boyish. “Besides, she’s kind of the closest thing I have to family and I don’t trust anyone else with her but you.” 

You can almost feel his breath across your jaw, his hushed reverence.

“You still there?”

“Yeah, Dee, I’m still here.” You scratch your eyebrow with your nail. “Of course, I’ll keep an eye on her. What’s her name?” 

“Beatrice, but I just call her Bea.” 

You arch an eyebrow. “Bea and Dee?”

“I’m just cute like that.” You laugh with him this time. There’s a part of you that wishes you could have seen him before the premiere, given him what you want, but you worry it might have messed with his head. “Thank you. It means a lot to me.” He sounds so sincere. “I’ve gotta go, but –,”

“Dieter, wait.” Phone clutched tight to your ear, you go deeper into the bowels of the theater, by the door that leads to the cabaret stage. “I, um, I have something to show you later. Nothing serious – and it doesn’t even have to be tonight but I’d like to steal you away for just a bit.” You smirk, trying to get some even footing underneath you, but his silence dries your mouth out. “I-i-if that’s alr–,”

“Say when and where and I’m there.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“A-alright. Then, uh, break a leg.”

He chuckles, right down your neck. “Thanks, Nat. Oh and if I don’t see you until afterwards, you look really nice.”

You swallow around a dry knot of wool in the back of your throat. “Is this where I’m supposed to say, ‘you can’t see me’ and you say, ‘I just know’?” 

“You’ve got me all figured out. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Bye, Dieter.”

You close your eyes, thumb shaking as you tap the red button on your phone. Every breath catches on the knots of your spine, of the curve of your ribs, as it goes down, hollow, sucked down, only to emerge shredded and weak. 

The memory of what had nearly happened the night of the party at Shandy’s, it’s sunk into the crevices of your brain, under the skin behind your forehead, weighing your brow down day by day. It’s there, but you don’t see it. You don’t look. Like a beast in the jungle, you don’t make eye contact, hoping it will pass you by. 

Hearing his voice over the phone, teasing you, you swear you hear it growl. 

Look up, look up, look up

Look at me

Slipping your phone back in your purse, you straighten your shoulders and march for the old phone booth. 

Bea is probably about sixty years old, maybe closer to seventy. Silver hair tucked back in a low bun that makes her dress shine, short unpainted nails press a ratty paperback book into her lap. She adjusts a navel blue sheer shawl around her mache-thin skin when you gently tap the window, smiling. She blinks up at you with the biggest blue eyes you’ve ever seen on a living human being. 

What it says about you and Dieter that your therapists could not be more different, is a question you’ll bring up to Carla later on.

You gently push back the accordion door and wave.

“Hi. I’m –,”

“Oh, I know exactly who you are,” she says softly, her smile coy. She bookmarks her page and closes the book – The Jungle by Upton Sinclair – before standing up. Not wanting to offend her, you don’t reach for her unless she seems unsteady, but her walk is confident, if not slow as she exits the phonebooth. “Dieter said a friend of his would come get me.”

Yes, but do you know which friend? Those thin lips swirl up to the corner of her mouth, her eyes playful. “You really are as pretty as he said you were.” Quickly, she adjusts her shawl and offers out her small hand. “Lovely to meet you, dear.”

Mischievous. Like those little elves or sprites. Instantly, you see what Dieter likes about her. You offer her your arm. 

“Lovely to meet you too, but I get the feeling you know much more about me than I know about you.”

She pats your arm, that dizzy (fake) bleary old lady glaze going over her eyes. “I don’t know what gave you that impression.”

Above you, the lights flicker and a thrilled anticipation hums from the lobby, those still left eagerly moving to take their seats

“Oh, I’m so excited,” Bea squeals against you.

“You’ve never been to Dieter’s plays before?” You wait until the flow of people lessens, not risking an elbow or an errant shoe. 

“He doesn’t let me!” She grouches. “Only recently has he let me see some of his movies. But he picks them out and we have to watch them together. Honestly, that man is such a goof!” 

Her blue eyes watching people go by, she doesn’t see you chew your tongue. The man he lets Bea see is so wildly different from the one you knew, or the one you’ve gotten to know the past few months. The idea of just sitting down on the couch with Dieter to watch a movie was once, well, impossible. Now it didn’t seem . . . right. You try to picture this Dieter, this long-haired, relaxed, sober Dieter in a dark room, feet under your covers, laughing ��� laughter comes so easily to him now – and you couldn’t. Your brain shut the doors and turned off the light. No, no one’s home. 

No one’s there.

“He’s a doctor in this one,” you say by way of filling the silence. “Did he tell you that?”

Bea peers up at you, her silver eyebrows arching. “No. He said he wanted it to be a surprise.”

“He’s a small town doctor, in a town on the verge of collapse in the thirties. He’s caught between being responsible for his brother’s kid, who has been drafted just before he’s set to get married, and getting out of the town himself.” 

“Ooh, his dramatic roles are so good!” Bea squeals again, squeezing your arm excitedly. You wonder if this is what she does to Dieter’s arm when they watch his movies. The crowd thins, so you lead her down the steps, to the front row that Andrew roped off for special guests. The theater is small, intimate, not space for more than fifty people, but the red velvet seats have been kept in immaculate condition, the Roman-inspired paintings on the ceiling and golden-dusted ceilings kept fresh in gloss and shine. It’s, for lack of a better word, cozy.

Marie is already there with a playbill and her smile fades when she sees you with an old woman on your arm. You shake your head, I’ll tell you later, and help her sit before taking your seat next to Marie. 

“Do you miss it?” Bea asks quietly, her eyes on the stage, as the room fades to black. 

“Miss what?” 

“Acting.” If you were dancing, you would have just tripped. “With him?” And now you’re on your ass, wondering what the hell just happened.

You swallow, those blue eyes so bright and earnest. “Um. Sometimes.”

Bea sighs, rolls her eyes, and pats your hand. “He misses it. Even if he’ll never say anything.” 

You don’t ask her to elaborate, because you don’t want to know.

He’s good. They all are. 

There is a natural chemistry reflected between the cast that is often so hard to find. The subject matter, the sets, the expertly designed costumes – there is a sense of grounded realism. As Andrew hoped, the audience peers into the lives of a people strapped on a path of destruction. They fall apart as their town does around them. They get in their own way. They sabotage their own happiness again and again out of fear or frustration. Every character is fully realized to the point of anguish, of emotional damage because how could they not see it? How could they possibly continue to live their lives like this? How long do they believe they should suffer?

And beyond this swirling chaos of painfully human failure are the mobile walls you designed. They evolve, transform under expertly placed light, shadows increasing or decreasing depending on a blue or red light. The old Greek plays had The Chorus, omniscient watchers that took pity on the tragedy but were unable to stop it. Andrew’s play had your designs; silent, overbearing smears of sadness or grief or joy just out of reach. In such a grounded play, the walls added a sense of vivid delusion, waking madness, providing a razor’s edge of tension to every scene. 

Dieter’s character is morally flawed. Tired and run down by this world that’s given him nothing, no hope; stealing from his patients when he conducts housecalls to pay for this “escape” that never comes. At first he has no interest in saving the skin of his nephew, not willing to risk imprisonment over a fake diagnosis, but he, like the audience, is forced to bear silent witness to the genuine, deep, honest love between his brother’s son and his sweetheart, played by Emily. 

They sit at a kitchen table, the set painted a light green, the wood chipped and window glass cracked above the grimy sink. The night before he is meant to be drafted, Dieter’s doctor in the corner trying desperately to appear unaffected as his nephew goes through his will to his sweetheart and his uncle, so that in case of the inevitable, they know what his final wishes are. 

The boy is choked up, nervous, reading through every word with an agonized sob. His hands that hold Emily’s are shaking, as silent tears stream down her face. 

And then in a truly beautiful stroke of theater production, the boy pauses, and a recorded voiceover of him continues to read the will. But he stands, Emily and Dieter frozen in time behind him, and gently kisses Emily on the forehead, his eyes shut and face wet. He lets go, and turns to the audience. 

The voice over fades to a low hum as he stands at the center of the stage. The boy is mere feet from you. He watches Emily over his shoulder. 

“There are things I want to say to you, but I can’t. I think you already know them, but saying it out loud would only make things worse, not better. I would be saying them to be selfish, to unburden my own soul, by weighing down yours. But you know, right? You touch me and suddenly I feel a little less war torn. I'm not sure what peace is supposed to feel like but I think it may feel a lot like you.” He goes to her, still frozen, still curled up on the table, her eyes seeing nothing. He strokes her cheek, getting on his knees to look into her visionless eyes. “I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you everyday. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close. I will love you until your face is fogged by distant memory. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, I will love you if you don’t marry me. I will love you if you marry someone else and I will love you if you never marry at all, and spend your years wishing you had married me after all. That is how I will love you even as the world goes on its wicked way.” 

He drops his head onto her hands. The reading of the will ends and the lights hold, just a bit longer on the doomed couple. 

“Are you okay?” Bea whispers, touching your arm and dropping back into your own body, you stare forcefully at your lap, begging the tears to stay back.

A cold sweat breaks out across your forehead, down the skin on your back, sucking your dress’s zipper to your spine. The blood in your ears roars, thunderous and loud, and you know you’re breathing unevenly, but you can’t help it.

You nod, wishing she would look away.

You feel green, feel pale, like something is molding inside of you, sickly blue sprouting around your spine and into your stomach. A sickness, an illness, lying dormant for years. 

It’s still there, you understand that now. 

The beast in the jungle, you meet it straight on, knowing the truth of it from the very beginning. But to what end – where would the self-inflicted circle of missed opportunities and failure finally end?

To unburden my soul, by weighing down yours. 

The lobby is loud, dozens of voices overlapping each other in an excited chatter, the crowd . You bring Bea to one of the long, low benches near the twin sets of double doors at the entrance, careful to take her out of the rush of the crowd. 

She groans as she sits down and eases her feet out of her silver flats.

“I do not miss the days of heels,” she says with a sigh, rolling her ankles around. “But is it too much to ask that they make nice shoes that don’t chew up your feet?”

“My mother used to say that was the price you pay for being a woman.” You sit down next to her, watching Marie chat with the art director across the room. “It’s not supposed to feel good, she said.”

Bea shrugs. “I suppose that’s true, but seems like a terrible way to look at life. A cycle of reward and punishment.”

You grin wryly at her. “My mother was a pessimist.” 

“And you?” She leans back, her thin hands on her lap. “Are you a pessimist or an optimist?”

“I’m trying to break the cycle of reward and punishment.” Your eyes unconsciously fall to the door to the theater. “But old habits die hard, I guess.” 

An excited roar sparks from across the room, the crowd surging towards the double doors. You see Emily’s shining blonde hair between shoulders, her bright smile. You can’t see him, but he’s there, you know it. So you sit back with Bea, matching her easy position.

“I know my old bones couldn’t fight off that crowd,” she nudges you with her elbow. “But you should go.” 

A flash of the curve of his chin, the sharp angle of his nose, the endless brown of his eyes. 

One way or another, it will be over soon. There is a sense of peace with that, whatever the outcome. 

You shrug. “I’m just fine right here.”

So you sit, with your ex’s former therapist and closest thing he has to family because his are all gone, or they hate him. You ask her about Upton Sinclair, and she asks you about what you do, and you tell her about the gallery. The two of you could have been sitting on a bench in Central Park, for all the hurry you take, exchanging questions and answers. 

Reporters ask for his picture, vloggers using their livestream to ask him about the role. You and Bea watch him, never talking about him, but never looking away either.

He’s handsome. He always is. Hair slicked back, eyes still ringing with black. He smiles and performs and you wonder if he’s a good enough actor to pretend to want to almost kiss you. His suit jacket is a deep red, almost purple, a perfect color for a December premiere. He turns, leaning into a photo with a few of his castmates and you see it – a flicker of dark green on his lapel. A glass leaf, the same color as your dress.

You fight to hide your blush, your assumptions really and truly getting out of hand, and you ask Bea about where she’s from. Eventually, Marie comes and joins you two, and her eyebrows jump only slightly when you tell her Bea’s connection to Dieter. 

The congregated crowd of media and fans alike eventually subsides, leaving just friends and family. Andrew finally comes out and an applause goes up. He’s pink and his eyes are a little bleary and you think he might have started celebrating a bit early. Toby holds his hand and he leans into it, smiling like a fool.

You hear a buzz about an afterparty through excited grins and one-armed hugs, the news met with nods or groans. The last stragglers linger, wandering out into the cold or into waiting cars. The lobby is flushed with cold air every time the double doors swing open. Marie has gone to pick up your coats, including Bea’s, her wrap doing nothing for warmth, and you lean your head back against the wall. 

You’ve been rehearsing something in your head since this morning, a final script, the end to the scene. Nothing fits quite right and you wish you’d written it down, but that risked someone finding your batherings. Maybe you’ll journal later, to get down everything in your head, everything you can’t say or don’t know how. 

The crowd thins, and a few more flashes go off, and then he’s coming towards you, arms outstretched. 

“Bea!” 

The old woman wrestles to her feet with a speed you hadn’t witnessed all night and Dieter envelopes her in his arms. Without context, the image is sweet, domestic: a boy and his mother. 

Then she steps back and messes up his perfectly combed hair. “There – that’s the Dieter I know.”

You swear he blushes. 

“I have had a lovely evening with your friends!” Bea says, holding his hand and giving you and Marie warm smiles. 

Marie out of the blue rushes forward and nearly tackles him to the ground. “You were so good, Dieter!” 

His eyes widen before his arms come around her waist, squeezing her so tight he lifts her off the ground. 

“Mhmm! Thank you! Thank you for coming. And now I promise to return your business partner to you. No more painting backdrops until midnight.” 

She slips off him, as his eyes drop to you, the warmth there softer than the velvet chairs. He reaches for you and all of existence narrows to his palm. You take it and he pulls you into his chest. 

He smells like your old Dieter. That layered musk of charcoal and vanilla, of sweet tobacco and sweat. Of course, he wears cologne, expensive and rich, but you turn your nose to his neck and inhale – it’s still there. Somewhere. His hands fall to your hips, your low back, then they’re sliding up your dress, cupping your ribcage against his. You pull him tighter to you, the scruff of his beard rough against your cheek as you breathe each other in. It happened accidentally, but this is the hug you should have given him all those months ago – one that allows for joy, for remembrance, for an ease that only comes after two people have learned the other intimately, where so much of one exists within the other, their own hearts cannot decide where one ends and the other begins. 

He presses his warm hand against your shoulder, tucking you farther and farther in, as the other hand spans across your entire back, his face burrowed in your neck. You feel him sigh, at ease, his ribs expanding into yours and you fight back the sharp swell of the sob caught in your throat. You had no idea what it meant to be held until this moment. 

You don’t want to let him go. You don’t think you can. 

But the double doors sweep open, drafting in the cool air and stronger, prevailing thoughts. Your chin trembles at the strength it takes to keep from pressing your lips against his cheek as you set your weight back on your heels, his hands resisting your release until the very last moment. He doesn’t let you fall or drop you; he eases you back down, away. But his hands are shaking and he steadies them around your elbows and you take his because you think your knees will buckle if you don’t keep touching him. His mouth makes a wet noise, his eyes on the ground, feet shuffling back. He holds you as though the room is spinning. 

“Um, Dieter,” Marie’s voice comes in from far away as you fight the urge to bury your body up under his chest, to lift him up with every ounce of strength you possess. “There’s an afterparty . . .”

“But I’d rather like to go home first, darling. If that’s alright,” Bea says. “Dieter?”

You watch his throat convulse and he stands up right. He lets go of you entirely. 

“Sorry,” he swallows, resolutely not looking at you, “just got a little lightheaded. Haven’t eaten much today. Bea, can I call you a cab?” 

“Do you want to go to the party?” Marie asks you as Dieter guides Bea over to the front desk. “Andrew’s invited us.” 

You shake your head, watching them go. It has to end tonight. It has to. 

“I . . . can’t. There’s something I need to talk to Dieter about.” You tear your eyes away to her concerned face. “Shouldn’t be long, but after that I’m gonna go to bed. I’m exhausted after four months of this.” 

She nods like she knows it's been much longer than that. She hugs you, pulls you in tight, her mouth tucked in by your ear and says, “don’t take this the wrong way, love, but you were never going to be just friends.” 

You don’t make eye contact with her when she pulls away.

Ten minutes later, Bea and Marie have decided to share a cab, Bea’s hotel on the way to Marie’s apartment. You and Dieter stand on the curb, waving to them as they go. The snow is coming on thick now. A few catch on his lashes as he turns to look at you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the party?” You ask.

He shakes his head. “There’ll be others. What did you want to show me?”

Age has done nothing to rob him of his beauty. You think you hope it hasn’t robbed him of anything else.

The creaky door of your brownstone greets you as you lead him inside, cheeks blushed pink from the cold, fingertips slightly numb, the metal keys in your hand bitterly chilled. You fumble for a few lights, cursing yourself that you left your home in total darkness hours earlier. The warm overhead lights awaken your living room, then the dining room across the hall. You’re grumbling to yourself and completely oblivious to Dieter’s open-mouthed stare. You’re leaning against the wall, fighting with your heel as he walks into your aubergine-colored living room with the plush gray couches and wall-to-wall bookshelves. 

“I want to look at every single one of these,” he says softly, fingers curled around your chenille throw blanket on the back of the sofa. “Have I read any of them?”

“If your reading tastes are anything like Bea’s, then probably,” you grin at him as you finally slip out of your heels. You fight the urge to groan, your feet flat against the hardwood, sensation finally returning to your toes, but you do sigh. The noise brings his attention to you and he smiles. 

“You do look beautiful.” 

Your toes visibly curl and you feel the smile slide off your face. You nod over your shoulder.

“C’mon. It’s in here.” 

He follows you through the other open-archway rooms to the kitchen, where the box from your basement sits on the counter. It’s gray, unassuming, with little buckles as adornments on the corners. Something about it feels weathered, hard won, as if it had been shipped across the ancient sea by long-dead ancestors. 

The lights are low here, hovering low on the dimmer switch. You always thought kitchens should be relaxing, comforting, so you rarely brighten the room unless you have to. Behind you, Dieter unbuttons his jacket as you grip the lid. 

“Now, you can’t laugh,” you say, a playful curl to your lips. He mimes an ‘x’ over his heart.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“I’ve had these for a while, collecting them as I came across them. At first, it seemed almost morbid, but – I don’t know – I took comfort in them. As time went on, it helped me remember that everything that happened back then, actually happened and wasn’t just some insane LSD trip.” You thumb a corner. “At least it wasn’t for me.”

His brow deepens as you take off the lid.

He blinks a few times, trying to understand what he’s looking at. You wait, sit down on a black stool, watching.

Newspaper clippings. Magazine articles. Online articles printed and cut out. 

He takes a few out, his fingers running over the corners where yours have gone a dozen times. 

“Are these . . .”

“They’re all about Recovery Road. Speculation pieces on why it should win an Oscar, or several, even before it premiered. First reviews and public, consumer reviews. Trades on Heidi’s directing career, the cinematographers, the music for the film.” Your bare toes could brush his shoes if you swung your leg forward just an inch. “Opinion pieces on my career . . . and yours.” The knot in his throat moves as he flips through, going back ten years to the first articles. You watch his masculine hand, thick veins and weighty palm. “I know we didn’t make Oscar night, Dieter, and I don’t know if you ever stopped to celebrate. I know I didn’t, even years later. So this became my little celebration and in light of your success tonight, I thought you might like to celebrate with me.” 

He spreads a few out on the counter, the strange shapes of cut-out articles like lost puzzle pieces. His mouth is a straight line, those thick eyebrows drawn down, jaw set tight. 

“That night was the worst night of my life, Natalie. I don’t know why you want to remember it.” 

His voice is rough, cutting, comes from a place at the back of his chest. Your heart sinks. 

You’ve gotten it all wrong. 

“Oh. Oh, I . . . I’m sorry. I thought . . . well, actually I don’t know what I thought. I’m sorry.” You shake your head, dispelling any lingering illusions you may have, and brush together the articles he laid out, jumping to your feet. “This was a stupid idea. I can’t believe I thought this would be fun. I took you away from your afterparty to show you this ridiculous –,”

His big hand loops around your wrist and you freeze, the warmth of his palm exploding up your arm and into your cheeks. Dieter looks at you with a weight so profound you feel as though you could plunge through the floorboards.

“I lied to you.” He says gruffly. “Ten fucking minutes into seeing you again and I lied.” He works his jaw as his hand slides up to your forearm, then your elbow where it notches over the bend in your arm. “I know I said I thought we’d be better off if we never saw each other again, but that’s not true. Every day until you were released from that hospital, I begged Heidi for any news. On your health. On your withdrawals. On if you got out of the fucking bed that day. And then after you got out and into rehab, I asked Heidi to check in on you. But I knew it had to fucking stop. I had to fucking stop wanting things to be different because I didn’t think they could be. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Your bottom lip trembles. “And now? Now, do you think things could be different?”

The lines around his eyes tighten as he straightens up. But he still holds your arm like it's the last life raft in a cold black ocean. He turns his head, an imperceptible tilt.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. Do you want it to be?”

“Dieter,” you cry out, out of breath before you open your mouth, air held captive in your chest. You’re crying and you don’t mean to be. You sway as you violently shake your head and he grabs your other elbow. You reach forward and steady yourself with both hands on his biceps. There’s no way you can say this with your eyes open. “Dieter . . . for months now, everyone’s been asking me if I need space from you, or if it’s alright with me to be alone with you. If everything is still too painful to be around you, like I need protecting from you or something. But I – I don’t know how to tell them . . . that’s all I want. I want you. Even after everything, after how fucked up it was, how fucked up we both were, I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

It comes out in a rush, words and tears tumbling out of your mouth. You open your wet eyes to his lips parted in surprise, his face soft beneath the weight of your revelation. You inhale, more tears and more courage to say the things you’ve always wanted to say. No paper, no pen, no going back. 

“Dieter, I think about that house in Albuquerque all the time. I wake up and I think I can smell you in the kitchen. Or you’ll be out on the patio, painting. I know you and I went our separate ways – and I think that’s what was best for us then – but God, you never went away. You never, ever left.”

You tighten your grip, nails digging into his lovely jacket. Staring at his throat, locked in by memories, you want to drag him to the floor and cry in his arms, the way you should have on that hospital bed. 

In the silence, your gaze drifts, down his chest and over to his lapel. 

That green leaf pendant. The color of your dress. You thumb it and it’s warm, like his heart sits just behind it. 

Unexpectedly, his wide palm rests against your jaw, tilting your head up. Eyes warm and dark like the dying coal in a wood-stove, he brushes your cheek with his thumb. You don’t realize how cold you are until your face is held in his hand. 

“I’m gonna fuck it up if I say anything,” he says quietly, to you and you alone, “so I’m just going to do this.” 

In an instant, years and years and years of buried fear come screaming into your chest. That single most profound worry you carried with you since he first kissed you the night of the rainstorm –  dug it deep, covered with ignorance and a blind eye – it emerges like a seed sprouting into the light when his lips touch yours. 

You fold up into him, this fear, this concern pulling you up as he does. 

You feared, in all this time and all these years, that the great love of your life, the end-all-be all to romance and adoration, had been nothing more than a misguided, lonely girl giving away parts of her to unworthy holders – drugs, alcohol, addiction, and Dieter fucking Bravo, the first man who taught her there was something special about sex and feelings and not being alone in the darkness. 

You break apart from him, trembling in his arms. You’re crying again and you think he might be too, but it’s too blurry and it’s too much. 

“Dieter, w-wait–,” you grip his lapels, unwilling to separate his chest from yours, the press of his hips against yours. “W-what if we are wrong? What if I was wrong – what I felt for you, what I feel for you, everything we had – it’s just – a-a mistake. What if what you feel for me, is just more psychosis, more pills we have to swallow to fix it, fix us? F-f-fix me? What if you never really loved me?”

With a groan, he presses an open-mouth kiss to your cheek, the ghost of teeth against the fine hairs on your skin. 

“If what I feel for you isn’t love, then I don’t know what it is.” His arms sink across your low back, as if pulling you in as tight as he could make you understand with touch alone, send you his thoughts unfiltered and honest. He kisses the corner of your mouth, wet and frantic, and then your cheek and then again on your mouth. It’s wet and messy and he pulls away, just inches, to say: “I’ve loved you every day of the past ten years. I never stopped loving you. You were the only thing I ever got right.”

A soft cry escapes your mouth, hand on his cheek, as you tug him back into your mouth. Your lips barely part at the touch of his teeth, before he slips into your mouth, tongue massaging yours.Your nails scrape the back of his neck, the curve of his skull, fingers delightedly yanking on his longer, wilder hair. Everywhere he touches you, it’s insistent, determined to make you feel his love. He breathes harshly out of his nose when he palms your ass in his wide hands and you allow yourself to rub up against him, as if you didn’t own every inch of him already. 

Even through your dress and his slacks, the heat of your cunt up against his half-hard length is enough to have you both gasping for air. Breathing doesn’t really work right, lungs stuttering, half-aborted gasps through hiccups. 

His hand curls around your jaw and he kisses you again. You no longer need to breathe air that hasn’t been recycled by him first. 

“I’m so fucking scared,” he murmurs against your lips, half-open eyes searching for hesitation, for rejection.

“Me too.” 

You claw at him, and still sucking on your mouth, he rolls your dress up over your knees, up to your hips. His hands on your bare skin for the first time in a decade, he cups the back of your knees, tugging you up onto his chest.

“Where?” He mutters. 

“Upstairs. Second door on your right.” 

You spend the time it takes to get there familiarizing yourself with every curve of his mouth, the softness on the inside of his cheeks, where along his neck elicits the deepest groan when you use your teeth. 

Memories whisper like ghosts – he likes it there, lick here and listen to him, bite, yes, bite – you slip his earlobe between your teeth, nipping just north of gently, and he falters.

“You got this?” You tease, nosing under his jaw, as he makes the landing. 

“If this place was blown to bits,” he grumbles as he knees open your bedroom door, “I’d still find a way to fuck you on this mattress.” 

Kneeling one leg at a time, he unfolds you on the covers, hands free to roam against your hips, your ass, the backs of your thighs. Your nails scratch through his hair one last time before he sits up. 

Your bedroom is dark, blue in the winter, and the only light to see him by comes from down the hallway and over the banister. In the half-light, Dieter glows, a faint bright edge to his hair, his right arm as he slips it out of his jacket, tossing it to the floor. It lands somewhere and you don’t hear it, don’t look, instead watch his fingers unbutton his collar, tugging the starched shirt out of his pants. 

Mesmerized, you want to tell him to stop, that you want to do it, but you can’t. You have and always be spell-bound by Dieter Bravo. He gets off his outer shirt and that’s when you realize how hard he’s breathing, the shadows blurring the pink tinge on his skin. 

“Dieter, baby,” you worry, reaching for him and he comes, collapsing on his trembling elbows. He kisses you with a wet mouth.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this. You’re so fucking beautiful. You look like a fucking angel, on this bed, in this dress and I never thought I’d ever be here with you again.” His chest shakes and you pull him between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, hand cupping the back of his head. He buries his head in the curve of your neck, grasping at your back with his arms. 

You together lie there for a minute, in the silence and comfort that is afforded those nestled in intimacy. He fits, so well, like no one else ever has. Bones touch bones, his space is filled by your joints, his blood warms where you are cold. Disjointed and broken, you slot together in holes made by the other. You stroke his hair and he pulls back. The grin that grows across his face causes tears to spill down the apples of his cheeks. 

“You’re a fucking hurricane, baby, and I love you.” He holds your cheek in his palm, softly pressing a kiss to your lips. “Can I take off your tights?” 

You nod, swallowing thickly, the anticipation of having his hands on your skin making you twitch. 

He kneels away from you and one hand slides up the material of your dress while the other reverently plucks at the tight waistband of your nylons. He tugs gently, then using both hands, knuckles scraping your hips, your thighs. He touches the back of your knee and that fear resurfaces just for a moment. 

“Be careful, Dieter,” you gasp. He slows, catching your eyes. “P-please be careful.” 

The rest of your nylons come off easily while he nods, his thumbs briefly rubbing the material before they’re tossed to the ground. The night air is suddenly cold, colder than it had been seconds ago and you shiver, your dress around your hips and your cunt nearly exposed. 

Dieter crawls forward, settling around between your knees. It’s like he can smell how wet you are. His big palm cups your inner thigh, thumb directing his attention.

“Do you still like to be licked here?”

You nod fervently, almost bashful. 

“Has anyone eaten you out in a while?”

Again, your head jerks back and forth in the opposite direction, your hand clutching his knee and the other fisting the sheets. 

“Can I?” His stare flickers from your barely visible pussy up to your eyes. He’s all but begging you.

His gaze reawakes your voice. “Yes, Dieter, please – p-please, I need it.” 

His tongue wets his lips, eyes half-open, focused, as he pushes your dress up the rest of the way. You part your legs for him and he groans with appreciation.

“Jesus Christ, baby.” He shuffles back, easing onto his knees on the floor, big palms around the hinge of your legs. He tugs you as he goes, until your hips have settled on the edge of the mattress. 

His mouth drops open at the shine on your inner thighs and as though too overwhelmed to go straight for the center, he licks as close to your cunt as he can, eager for your taste. His hands on your hips tighten as he groans, inhaling deeply.

“I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

You have half a second to breathe yourself before he licks, flat-tongued, up your cunt and the edges of your vision grow dark. 

He picks you apart, slowly, methodically, explorative. He licks like he’s trying to get an ice cream cone to come all over his face. 

Dieter tongues one lip, then the other and he has your hips shaking. He digs in, suctioning his mouth to your cunt, and flicks his tongue as far as he can and you twitch. He slurps in spit and slick between his teeth before presenting it back to you on the head of his tongue. 

“Oh, fucking god, Dieter –,” you press the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I can’t believe how good –,”

He licks as deep as he can, all the way up, air muffled by your folds, and flat-tongues your clit. Your vision whites out and you scream. But you didn’t come. That wasn’t you coming. Your legs are trembling and Dieter presses his forearm against your lower tummy, eyes scorching and scolding. Stop moving and let me work. 

As you relearn him, he rediscovers you. He knows there’s a spot, just around your clit that when sucked, it makes you arch off the bed, but he searches in no hurry, divining every inch of you again. He gets close and you tremble, so he pushes your knee back, opening you up further to slide in two fingers. So much more than anything you could put inside yourself, you roll your hips as much as you can, chasing that touch as his tongue sweeps over you again and again. He taps up against your pelvic bone through your pussy and you moan, loudly, pleasure soaking his fingers, then his palm. His dark eyes watch you from where his mouth works to suck ten years of missed orgasms right out of you. 

You want him to fuck you faster, to get you there in a way only he can, brushing places only he can find, only he dares reach. He licks you faster and faster, fingers plunging deeper and twisting, spreading you apart – he adds a third just before entering you again and again and again and then he finds it – that spot on your clit that breaks you apart, that warm gooey center exploding across his tongue. 

You come in silence, sparks flickering at the edge of your vision, mouth open, pussy clenching down on him, and only when you feel the vibrations of his moan between your legs, do you remember to breathe, gasping sharply to the high-pitched edge of a whine. 

“Dieter,” you pant, voice strained, knees weak as you push against his shoulders. Your clit stings a bit from overstimulation and he relents. He wipes his mouth on your inner thigh, inching up the bed, with your knee over his shoulder, still three fingers deep in you.

“C’mon, honey, you can give me one more like this. I know you can.” 

You whimper, never having a single orgasm like that in the last ten years, let alone two. “I don’t – I don’t think I can –,”

“Of course you can.” The wet squelch of his fingers scissoring inside of you proves him right. “I’ve got you, darling, I’ve got you and I’m never letting you fucking go again.”

He licks under your knee, beard still damp with your release, and Dieter does what he does best: he talks.

He promises you filthy, beautiful things. 

I wanna be soaked in you. I want you to come so hard, it drips down my arm, wets my chest. 

I wanna put my tongue on every inch of your sweat-drenched skin. I wanna taste you. All of you. In you. I wanna make you so full, that when I fuck you, I taste myself. 

I want . . . I want . . . I want . . .

“Oh, shit,” he murmurs, your cunt squeezing his fingers so hard they can’t move, and you gush, all the way to his elbow. 

You can’t see for a second, the sound of your pounding heart in your ears the only proof you’re still alive. It’s like your body has been storing it all for him, never doing this for anyone else, so you keep coming and coming. Dieter groans, drops his head, and licks up as much as he can, but you feel your own slick slip down your ass and stain your dress. You whine as he slips his fingers out of you.

“Ohmy– oh – oh – oh fuck, Dieter,” you garble. Your entire lower half is numb. You don’t realize you’re shaking until he’s stretched out both of your legs, hand gently massaging your thighs. He licks his palm, his forearm, trying to clean himself up, but never once taking his eyes off you. 

“Good, baby?” 

You nod, blinking back the sparks of light whirling across your vision. “So good. So, so good.” 

“I have a lot to make up for. Where’s the clasp to your dress?”

“In – In the back,” you swallow, hand flopping around to indicate some direction. 

“I’m going to turn you around, okay, baby?”

He takes you by the hip, the shoulder, and curls you onto your side. His thumb pressed up against the cup of your skull, warm and grounding, he unzips your dress, the sound loud in the silence. Easing you as he goes, he rolls you until you’re face down on the mattress and he can peel the dress off your shoulders. Somewhere behind you, he makes a noise at the sight of your bare back. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” Heat drapes across your back as he leans down and kisses from the back of your neck, down your spine and lingers at the place just above the curve of your ass. He harshly palms your thighs, the meat of your butt, groaning, promising and marking places for his teeth. Your breathing hitches as you slide your dress off your arms. He meets your hands and helps you pull it down the rest of the way, over your knees and off the bed. 

You should be cold, shivering, but you aren’t. Not when his hands start over your calves, gripping them soft enough that he can move unhindered, but tight enough it's almost a massage. He goes up the backs of your knees, curves around your thighs, fingers dip into the bones of your hip. The mattress dips as he lays out behind you, over you, fingers tugging you back until there’s enough space for him to slip his hand between you and the mattress, his knee prying your legs apart. He cups you, biting the curve of your ear, and you gasp for him. He plugs you up with two fingers, still so wet he meets no resistance and he growls in your neck.

“There’s this image of you that I swear to god is painted on the backs of my eyelids,” he murmurs, fucking you lazily with his fingers. You fist the sheets, arm shaking to keep yourself tilted enough to give him room. You can feel his hot, thick, solid cock against the back of your thigh, his own body heat enough to make you sweat. He touches a place that makes you gasp and his hips twitch forward. You want more, more heat, more of him, his white undershirt sticking to your back. You want to feel him. You push your hips back and he groans, dropping his head onto your shoulder. “I see it when I wake up and when I go to sleep at night and it used to fucking kill me because that was all I had left of you.” He speeds up, his wrist snapping against your pelvis. “But then – then, it – it gave me comfort, because I got to see you all the time. It wasn’t real and it wasn’t enough but god, it got me through the worst of it.” 

You can feel your core tighten, pleasure spiral down and in on itself, a single spark away from exploding, as he goes faster and faster.

“I fucking need you–,” he whines in your ear, chest smothering your back, knuckle rubbing up against your clit. 

“Dieter, take off your fucking shirt –,”

You lunge forward, out of his grasp, his fingers dragging wet slick over your hip as you roll away from him. His hands frantically yank his shirt up and over his head as you work the button on his pants, unzipping him in a rush. You’ve barely gotten his pants down over his knees when he grabs you by the elbow, yanking you into his mouth, his lap. Your shared moans coat the inside of your mouths, lips pressed swollen and hot, teeth nipping and pulling. Separating only to breathe, he hauls your knee over his hip, pulling you as close as he can, his cock red and leaking into your stomach. 

You roll your hips forward, your soaked cunt clutching around his cock and he sways, breaking apart, to open mouth-groan. 

“C-condom?”

“Don’t want one. There hasn’t been anyone but you.”

“Me neither.”

You snake a hand between your heated bodies and pump him once. Again and he whines. A third time and you push him back, flat against the mattress, his body thumping into the pillows. His thumbs press into the curve of your hips, up your waist, fingers slotting between your ribs. 

But his eyes are latched onto your nipples.

“And these tits, baby,” he cups the weight of one while thumbing across the raised nipple of the other. You arch your spine, letting him do whatever he wants, while you pump him slowly, and swirl your clit with your other fingers. “Been obsessed with them. Fucking dream about them. Wanna spend a whole day with my mouth on them.”

“Well, I wanna spend a whole day on this cock. Dieter, fuck, your cock is fantastic.” It’s thick and long and you lick a mix of precum and spit into your hand to coat all of him. 

“Yeah, you missed my big cock?” Hips bucking inches off the mattress, his eyes fall half-shut, almost black with hunger. “Show me, baby, show me how much you missed me. Fuck yourself on my cock.” 

Despite his filthy mouth, his breathing hitches when you go onto your knees, hand holding him beneath you as you adjust to find your entrance. He breaths so sharply, you glance at him, the head of his cock just inches from your cunt. His chest is flushed and sweaty. The roundness of his stomach trembles, the hair there pressed flat and wet. The hair at his temples and across his hairline is damp,  beautiful curls tossed back from his face. Eyes warm, his lips are wet with anticipation. 

“I missed you, Nat,” he says quietly, suddenly. His fingers squeeze your thighs and his words catch as you notch just the head inside you, the fat head splitting you apart. “I m-m-missed you so-oh much.” 

Wanting nothing but to feel every inch, you take your hand away and find his forearm to steady yourself. The deeper you take him, the higher your whine goes. 

“Fuck, Natalie, fuck –,” his eyes are squeezed shut, jaw tight, as you gasp towards the ceiling, eyes rolling back in your head. “Fuck, you feel – you are –,” 

“Dieter –,”

Your hips drop, his twitching below you, and you take in every ridge, every throbbing vein. You don’t mean to tease, but he’s so big and it’s been so long since you’d taken him, you have to sink as slow as possible. His grip almost bruising, he wants nothing more than to yank you down on his cock, but he holds, waits, lets you adjust, even though his chest is red and he hasn’t taken a full breath in a minute. 

You inhale as you finally take all of him inside you, flush to his hips, his lap already wet, that low simmering heat swirling out from every place his cock rubs up inside of you. 

“Natalie–,” he chokes.

It’s been too long. 

You thrust forward, riding him hard and setting a pace that startles even you. A loud groan roars through him and his hands around your hips yank you back and forth with just as much force, as much want. Arousal climbs higher and higher, your shared pants and moans a catalyst for fire.

“Natalie,” he tries and you open your eyes. His face is flushed now too, eyes wet. “Natalie, I can’t stop thinking – the last time we were like this – I did – I said –,”

He whimpers as you slow and lean over him. You cup his cheeks with both hands, thumb tugging down his bottom lip. You kiss him, mouth slotting over his. “Don’t think about that, baby. Stay here with me. Be with me.” 

He nods frantically, gasping as you jerk your hips just right, and you nuzzle his nose before building back your speed, that heart-stopping pace. He intertwines his fingers with yours, offering himself to hold onto as you both race towards release, his hips rhythmically bouncing against yours. 

But you can’t help it either. Flashing across your memory like fireworks, you’re overwhelmed with images of you and him either in this exact position or a dozen others. On top of a desk, in a car, against a wall, behind, under, in front – every way he would make you take him again and again. You dip forward, just a bit, remembering that angle that made his knees quake – and apparently still does. 

“Oh, fuck, baby –,”

Bits and pieces of old fantasies slide in between the gaps in your memory – the time you tried to picture his face when you sat on your new vibrator you gifted yourself on your twenty-sixth birthday – the time you finger-fucked yourself in the bathtub, hopelessly trying to find that spongy spot he used to stroke – it was not agonizingly enough.

It was nothing like him begging you to never, ever leave. You ride him hard and fast because tomorrow isn’t promised and it might never come. 

His thumb on your bottom lip and his voice pry your eyes open. Your thighs quake from the strain, ratcheting that thunderous pleasure up every knot of your spine. You’re sweating so much you think you might melt off his cock. 

The bed squeaks, as you grind yourself against him, his hand still on your face. 

“I fucking love you.” He breathes through, open-mouthed, a spike of pleasure, his hair plastered against his forehead. You think you might come from the look of pure adoration in his eyes alone, but you white-knuckle your approaching orgasm, just as you know he is. “You’re made for me. This cunt is made for me.”

Every inch of you is fire hot. You gaze down at him and take your thumb between your teeth, nipping gently, your hands balanced against his stomach. 

“I am yours, Dieter. I’ve never wanted anything else. Never.” 

He swallows, eyes impossibly dark and deep, staring up at you like you hang the moon and stars, like you are solely responsible for the air in his lungs and the blood in his veins.

Dieter jerks up to kiss you, his hand cupping the back of your head, nails lightly scratching into your hair. The force of him stills your hips and you kiss him back, arms around his neck, but does nothing to quench that roaring blaze in your cunt. 

His arm drops from your head, goes around your back, the other catching your hips against his and he flips you both, nestling you against the covers. He pins your arms above your head and thrusts into you, setting a pace that has your eyes rolling back your head. You whimper. 

“You are the only thing I’ve ever loved,” he grunts into your neck, his voice low as it kisses your skin. His pace is punishing, chasing whatever haunted him at night those years he was apart from you. You pin your knees to his ribs, welcoming him deeper and deeper. “I want to be yours. I want to be yours until the day I fucking die.” 

“You are, Dieter, you are.” 

The sound that comes from his chest, echoing in your ear, and seeps into your bones finally pushes you over the edge. White-hot lightning strikes you between your legs, a warm, milky wave rocking you flat on your back as your cunt clenches down on him. He shouts, loudly, his back tense as he spills inside of you a second later. You can feel him soak the inside of you, his cock twitching under the pressure of your still-tight cunt. 

His hips pump once, twice more, his body eager to empty him out entirely, and then he stills. 

The sound of your shared heavy breathing, between the sweaty, throbbing mass of your bodies, is the only sound in the bedroom, stretching on for minutes at a time. 

You have never felt so close to a person as you do right now. You can feel his heart pounding against his chest as it sits above yours. Your skin, damp with sweat, clings to his. This is where you want to be, for the rest of your life. 

Slowly, as fast as his shaking arms will allow, Dieter lifts up to look you in the eyes, breath still heavy in his lungs. He’s red, pushed to the limit of exertion and then beyond that. His hair is a damp mess and his skin is so warm it almost burns.

But he’s smiling. 

As your breathing returns to normal, even if it might take hours to wash yourselves clean, he smiles at you and you smile back because all it took was time.

Time, some therapy, and some space apart to find out what truly matters. What only matters. If nothing we do matters, this is the only thing that does. 

You don’t have to speak because he knows what you’re thinking. Grinning through a half-chuckle, he kisses your forehead, your nose, and your lips. With a sigh, you wrap your arms around him as he gingerly tucks his head under your chin, and rests his cheek against your chest. You play with his hair. 

The night stretches on, the snow falls harder outside. Eventually, you end up under the covers,  Dieter Bravo is in love with you and you love him back. 

He taps his fingers against your hip, absent-mindedly, to a beat you don’t recognize. And then his chest vibrates over yours, the sound sinking into yours, as he hums the chorus to Here You Come Again.

When you wake up, hours later, sleep overtaking you at some point during the night, you open your eyes to gold sunlight streaming in through the curtains and his back to you. His arm tucked under his head, curls askew on the pillow, and you feel him breath against the mattress. 

Hesitantly, slowly, you reach forward, hand trembling, across the small space between your bodies –

And you touch his shoulder. He’s solid. He’s real. He’s here.

He shudders awake, groaning sleepily, as he turns over, his brown eyes greeting yours with all the joy of the sun. 

He touches your cheek and you smile. 

Epilogue

The wooden tracks of the rollercoaster vibrate violently as the cars lurch over the railings and down the slope. Screams of delight are lost beneath the gentle melody of the merry-go-round, its lights bright against the late evening sky. People wander between the tents and the booths, stopping to play a round of hunt-the-duck or to throw a ball at empty milk bottles. The smell of popcorn and candy hangs thick in the warm summer air. 

Dieter adjusts the giant stuffed bear on his back, eyes surveying their next target on the Coney Island pier. 

“Ice cream me, babe.” 

Your arm juts out and smears vanilla-chocolate swirl across his mouth and he sputters.

Your eyes jump up from your phone, embarrassed to have been so distracted, and you immediately go to wipe his lips, his own hands busy keeping the bear up right. 

“Sorry, sorry!” 

He grins as you blot his mouth and chin. His tongue swipes out and licks your palm.

“It’s okay, only if you use your mouth next time.” 

You roll your eyes as you toss away the used napkins. This time you hold the cone properly so he can lick his fill.

“What’s so important on your phone that you nearly drown me in ice cream?”

A summer breeze, hot off the waves of the ocean, strokes your hair, tugging it over your eyes. You push it back, frowning.

“Netflix emailed us, wanting to know if we wanted to be a part of the documentary about the making of Recovery Road.” 

“And you think that’s a bad idea?” He asks, catching an errant dribble before it smears across your fingers. 

“I don’t know. It just feels like dredging up things that are better left in the past.” 

“Netflix’s specialty.” 

You frown at him and he grins. “No one’s ever officially gone on record about what happened and now maybe we should. Set the record straight.”

“I don’t think we’ll come out of it looking very good,” you worry your lip. “Besides, if we’re being interviewed, shouldn’t Chloe get a chance to tell her side too?”

Dieter shrugs. “She can if she wants. But the story is ultimately about you and me. Besides, they just want the juicy gossip about all of our wild and crazy infidelity sex.”

“Dieter!”

With a chuckle, he drops the bear between the two of you, so he can look you properly in the eyes without a paw over his face.

“Baby, I’ll do whatever you want to do. If you want to do it, great. If not, fuck ‘em. I don’t care how it makes us seem, because no matter what, they’ll never know the true story.” He takes your hand that is not holding an ice cream cone, sticky fingers and all, and kisses your knuckles. “You and I are so beyond Netflix documentaries, or tell-all exposés – or whatever constitutes a love story in Hollywood. What I feel for you, no one could ever do it justice.” 

He sees your chest stutter for breath, your eyes soft as he kisses your palm. 

“They’d never understand the man you’ve become,” you say quietly. “What it took to get here.”

He nods, hand sliding to your cheek, your neck, and pulls you in. “This is it for me.”

“Me too.” 

The jingle of the carnival around you, the roar of the rollercoaster in the distance, fills the silence as your lips move against his, hand curled up against his collar.

“Okay, new question,” he breaks apart before he loses all of his senses and pulls you into a bathroom stall.

You chuckle against his lips. “Yeah?”

“What would you think about getting a dog?”

“A dog?” You blink up at him.

“Yeah. Doesn’t have to be very big – there’s no room in our brownstone for the three of us anyway.”

You frown playfully, contemplative, as you loop your arm through his, the bear stretched across both your backs, as you instinctively wander towards the water.

“I’ve always liked pitbulls. Found them to be really misunderstood.” 

He nods. “I like that. Kind of flies in the face of the ‘small dog’ idea but I like it.” 

“When have we ever not bucked tradition?” 

“You’re exactly right, my beautiful girl.” He kisses your cheek as you list off other potential breeds.

Honestly, he doesn’t care. Whatever dog breed you want is fine with him.

As long as it has a collar and a name tag, somewhere he can hang a ring. 

T H E  E N D

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Attention industries! Looking for top-quality Grounded Calcium Carbonate Powder for your industry needs? Look no further! DHANSRI INFRAX PRIVATE LIMITED presents WOODBINE brand of GCC (Grounded Calcium Carbonate – CaCO3), your ultimate solution for various applications. Our extensive range of Grounded Calcium Carbonate Powder, with a formula of CaCO3, caters to diverse industries including cement, paint, glass, soap & detergent, ceramics, rubber, cosmetics, and more.

Available in micron sizes ranging from (2/5/8/10/15/20) and grades including (Super/2nd Super/Normal).  WOODBINE GCC meets the stringent requirements of industrial manufacturers Like cement, paint, glass, soap & detergent, footwear, ceramics, paper & pulp, rubber, tyre, cosmetics, toothpaste, PVC wire & pipe, fertilizers, and putty manufacturers. Whether you're in any part of Entire India Tier 1, Tier 2, Tier 3 with in City Limit or with a manufacturing plant in Outer Area (Industrial Clusters), our Indian manufacturing facility based at Rajasthan, India, ensures high-quality alternatives to imported CaCO3. Search DHANSRI INFRAX Private Limited, Industries can rely on us for bulk purchases, with packaging options of 50 kg and 1000 kg HDPE woven laminated bags, ensuring convenient handling and transportation. With a brightness range of 92-98%, WOODBINE GCC guarantees superior performance in your products.

For B2B, B2C, and B2BD2C needs, DHANSRI INFRAX PRIVATE LIMITED stands as your trusted partner. Contact us now to elevate your industry standards with WOODBINE Grounded Calcium Carbonate Powder, a superior option for B2B, B2C, and B2BD2C buyers, suppliers, dealers, importers, exporters, and wholesalers.

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Is the Average Cost of Replacing Sewer Line Worth the Investment?

While the Average Cost of Replacing Sewer Line can range from $3,000 to $9,000 or more, this expense is often a necessary and worthwhile investment for homeowners facing aging or damaged sewer systems. A failing sewer line can cause extensive problems, including water damage to your home, persistent clogs, unpleasant odors, and even environmental hazards such as sewage leaks.

These issues can be costly to address individually and may reduce your property’s value if left unresolved. By replacing the sewer line, homeowners can ensure a properly functioning plumbing system that protects their home and the surrounding environment.

Additionally, modern sewer line replacement techniques, such as trenchless methods, offer long-term benefits that justify the higher upfront costs.

Trenchless methods minimize the need for extensive excavation, preserving landscaping, driveways, and other features, which reduces the overall disruption and restoration expenses. Furthermore, new sewer lines made from durable materials like PVC or epoxy-lined pipes are designed to last decades, providing peace of mind and eliminating the need for frequent repairs.

Investing in a sewer line replacement can also boost your home’s marketability. Potential buyers are often wary of purchasing homes with outdated or failing sewer systems, and having a recently replaced line can increase buyer confidence.

While the upfront cost of replacing a sewer line may seem daunting, the long-term financial and practical benefits, including avoiding future repairs and maintaining the value of your property, make it a wise decision for many homeowners.

[narendra5261]

How to decide the pricing of UPVC and PVC pipe fittings?

Regarding plumbing and construction projects, understanding the pricing of Unplasticised Polyvinyl Chloride and Polyvinyl Chloride pipe fittings is crucial for budget management. These materials are famous for their durability and cost-effectiveness. Here are the factors that determine their pricing:

Material costs

The UPVC and PVC pipe cost of raw materials is the primary factor influencing the price of pipe fittings. The price of PVC resin, additives, and other materials fluctuates based on market conditions. When raw material costs rise, manufacturers typically increase the price of their products. Therefore, monitoring market trends can provide insights into potential price changes.

Manufacturing processes

The manufacturing process also affects pricing. UPVC fittings are usually produced through a more complex process that can require additional machinery and labour. As a result, UPVC fittings may be more expensive than standard PVC fittings. Manufacturers may also have different production capacities, which can influence economies of scale and, ultimately, the final price.

Design and specifications

The design and specifications of the fittings play a significant role in pricing. Custom fittings or those with specialised designs, such as those for high-pressure applications, tend to be priced higher than standard fittings. Additionally, fittings that meet specific industry standards may carry a premium price owing to quality assurance processes involved.

Size and type of fittings

The size and type of the fittings directly impact their cost. Larger fittings generally require more material and thus are more expensive. Additionally, the type of fitting, such as elbows, tees, or connectors, can influence pricing. Speciality fittings, which may be less familiar, might be priced higher due to lower production volumes.

Brand reputation

Brand reputation influences the pricing of UPVC and PVC fittings. Well-known brands trusted for quality and reliability may charge more for their products. Customers often pay a premium for established brands, believing they offer better performance and longevity.

Supplier and distribution costs

The costs associated with distribution and supply chains also play a crucial role in pricing. Local suppliers may have lower shipping costs, offering more competitive prices than those needing to import fittings. Additionally, bulk purchases can lead to discounts, making it beneficial for larger projects to buy in volume.

Market competition

The competition in the market also affects pricing. In a competitive market, suppliers may lower prices to attract customers, while prices may remain high in a less competitive environment. Compare prices from different suppliers to ensure you’re getting a fair deal.

Seasonal demand

Finally, pricing can vary seasonally. During peak construction seasons, demand for PVC and UPVC pipe fittings may increase, leading to higher prices. Conversely, off-peak seasons might see discounts as suppliers try to move inventory.

Conclusion

Determining the pricing of UPVC and PVC pipe fittings involves analysing various factors. By understanding all these factors, buyers can make informed decisions that fit their budgets while ensuring they get quality products for their projects.

[efffitting]

What to Know Before Buying Manifold Ball Valves in Canada?

When it comes to controlling the flow of fluids in various industrial applications, manifold ball valves are a popular choice due to their efficiency and reliability. For buyers in Canada, it’s essential to understand what factors to consider before purchasing manifold ball valves to ensure they’re getting high-quality, durable, and well-suited valves for their specific needs. This article covers the essentials of choosing manifold ball valves in Canada, from materials to certifications and functionality.

Why Manifold Ball Valves Are Essential in Industrial Applications?

Efficient Flow Control: Manifold ball valves provide excellent control over fluid flow, allowing for smoother operations in industrial settings.

Durability and Reliability: Designed to withstand high-pressure environments, manifold ball valves are long-lasting and reduce maintenance costs.

Versatility: These valves are versatile and can be used in various applications, from oil and gas to pharmaceuticals and food processing.

Factors to Consider Before Buying Manifold Ball Valves in Canada:

Material Composition:

Choose materials based on the fluids being handled. Stainless steel is a popular choice due to its corrosion resistance, while brass or PVC may be suitable for lower-stress applications.

Some valves may have specific coatings to improve longevity, particularly in harsh Canadian climates.

Size and Pressure Ratings:

Ensure the valve size matches your system requirements to avoid flow restrictions or leaks.

The pressure rating should meet the standards of your application, especially if you’re working in high-pressure industrial settings.

Temperature Tolerance:

Check the valve’s temperature tolerance to ensure it will perform effectively under your operating conditions.

For applications involving extreme temperatures, specialized materials or designs may be required.

End Connections:

Manifold ball valves have various connection types, including threaded, flanged, and welded ends. Each has its benefits, depending on installation needs and space constraints.

Make sure to select the proper connection to avoid leaks and facilitate easy installation.

Key Standards and Certifications for Manifold Ball Valves in Canada:

When buying manifold ball valves, looking for specific certifications is essential to ensure quality and safety.

ISO 9001 Certification: This standard ensures valves are produced under strict quality control guidelines.

CSA Certification: Canadian Standards Association (CSA) certification indicates that the product meets Canadian safety and performance standards.

API Certification: For industries like oil and gas, API certification ensures compatibility and safety in rigorous applications.

Choosing the Right Supplier in Canada:

Selecting a reputable supplier for manifold ball valves in Canada is as important as the product itself. Look for suppliers with a strong industry reputation, high customer ratings, and comprehensive product warranties.

Local Expertise: Canadian suppliers have insights into local industry needs and offer products compatible with the region's specific demands.

Product Support and Warranty: Reliable suppliers support installation, maintenance, and troubleshooting.

Compliance with Canadian Standards: By choosing a Canadian supplier, you can ensure that products comply with national standards and safety requirements.

Types of Manifold Ball Valves Available:

Two-Way Ball Valves: Simple design for basic on/off flow control.

Three-Way Ball Valves: Allows diversion of flow, making it suitable for more complex systems.

Four-Way Ball Valves: Provides greater flow control and flexibility in more advanced setups.

Frequently Asked Questions about Manifold Ball Valves in Canada:

How do I determine the right size for a manifold ball valve? The size depends on your system's pipe diameter and flow rate requirements. Consulting with a supplier can help you make the right choice.

What are the benefits of stainless steel manifold ball valves? Stainless steel offers high corrosion resistance, which is ideal for harsh environments and long-term use.

Understanding the essential factors for selecting manifold ball valves in Canada can significantly improve the efficiency and safety of your industrial operations. Considerations like material, size, pressure ratings, and certifications can help buyers make informed decisions that lead to better performance and durability. When sourced from reputable Canadian suppliers, these valves offer quality assurance, compliance, and support for various industry needs.

Get more insights here!

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Jim Yellow Pages PVC and HDPE Pipes

Jim Yellow Pages stands out as an invaluable resource for businesses seeking suppliers and manufacturers of these Polyvinyl Chloride (PVC) and High-Density Polyethylene (HDPE) pipes materials. With a robust database of over 1,500 Polyvinyl Chloride (PVC) and High-Density Polyethylene (HDPE) pipes suppliers and manufacturers across the country, it serves as a one-stop hub for local business information, enabling suppliers to showcase their offerings while buyers easily find suitable partners, saving time and effort.

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Vinyl Chloride Monomer (VCM) Price | Prices | Pricing | News | Database | Chart

Vinyl Chloride Monomer (VCM) prices have witnessed significant fluctuations over the past few years due to a range of factors influencing supply, demand, and production costs. As a key raw material used primarily in the production of polyvinyl chloride (PVC), VCM prices are intricately linked to the health of the construction industry, which is the largest consumer of PVC for pipes, windows, and other infrastructure-related products. When the construction sector experiences growth, the demand for PVC rises, leading to an increase in VCM prices. Conversely, during periods of economic downturn or reduced infrastructure spending, VCM prices tend to soften. The global supply chain dynamics, including the availability of raw materials like ethylene and chlorine, also play a crucial role in shaping VCM prices. Any disruptions in the production or transportation of these materials, caused by natural disasters, geopolitical tensions, or plant shutdowns, can cause supply shortages, pushing prices upwards.

In recent years, the VCM market has also been affected by broader economic and environmental trends. As more industries strive to adopt sustainable practices, the petrochemical sector, which produces VCM, faces pressure to reduce its carbon footprint. This has led to increased regulatory scrutiny and higher compliance costs for VCM producers, which are often passed on to buyers in the form of higher prices. Furthermore, energy prices, particularly natural gas and crude oil, have a direct impact on VCM production costs. Since these fuels are integral to the chemical manufacturing process, fluctuations in energy prices—whether due to geopolitical tensions, shifts in global energy policy, or technological advances—can have a ripple effect on VCM pricing.

Get Real Time Prices for Vinyl Chloride Monomer (VCM): https://www.chemanalyst.com/Pricing-data/vinyl-chloride-monomer-69

Geographically, the VCM market exhibits regional price disparities due to variations in production capacity, raw material availability, and transportation costs. Asia, particularly China and India, represents a major market for VCM, driven by robust demand from their expanding construction and manufacturing sectors. However, these countries also import a significant portion of their VCM needs, which makes them vulnerable to international price volatility. On the other hand, North America, with its abundant supply of shale gas and well-developed petrochemical infrastructure, enjoys a cost advantage, making VCM prices relatively lower compared to other regions. Europe, while maintaining a steady demand for VCM, often grapples with higher production costs due to stringent environmental regulations and a reliance on imported raw materials.

Another factor that has influenced VCM prices is the evolution of global trade policies. Tariffs, trade restrictions, and shifting international alliances can disrupt the flow of VCM across borders, leading to imbalances in supply and demand. For instance, trade tensions between the US and China, as well as between the EU and other major economies, have occasionally led to changes in VCM import and export dynamics, affecting prices. Additionally, the increasing use of anti-dumping measures by various countries to protect their domestic industries from cheap imports can lead to higher domestic VCM prices. This, in turn, can encourage local producers to invest in expanding their capacities, but such investments often take time to materialize, leaving short-term prices exposed to volatility.

Technological advancements in VCM production have also played a role in shaping price trends. Over the years, innovations in production processes have led to increased efficiency and reduced waste, helping to lower production costs. However, the adoption of new technologies often requires significant capital investment, which can temporarily drive up prices as companies seek to recoup their expenditures. Additionally, as more advanced production techniques become widespread, the overall cost of VCM production is expected to decrease, leading to more stable long-term prices. Nevertheless, technological advancements can also disrupt traditional supply chains, as newer, more efficient plants replace older ones, leading to temporary imbalances in supply.

Looking ahead, the outlook for VCM prices will likely continue to be shaped by a combination of macroeconomic factors, including global economic growth, energy prices, and environmental regulations. The growing emphasis on sustainability could lead to higher production costs as VCM producers invest in cleaner technologies and comply with stricter regulations. On the demand side, emerging markets, particularly in Asia and Africa, are expected to drive long-term growth in PVC consumption, which will, in turn, support VCM prices. However, the volatility inherent in the global petrochemical market means that VCM prices are likely to experience periods of sharp fluctuations, driven by short-term supply and demand imbalances.

In conclusion, VCM prices are influenced by a wide range of factors, from raw material costs and energy prices to geopolitical events and environmental regulations. While technological advancements and regional production capacities help mitigate some of these pressures, the market remains highly sensitive to changes in global economic conditions. As the world continues to grapple with challenges such as climate change, economic uncertainty, and shifting trade dynamics, VCM prices are expected to remain a key barometer of the health of the broader petrochemical and construction industries.

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[devender67]

In a world that is constantly evolving and innovating, the issue of waste management, particularly scrap management, is becoming increasingly critical. India, with its rapidly growing economy, faces a tremendous challenge in managing its waste, especially scrap materials. This is where the role of scrap buyers in India comes into play, offering a solution that not only manages waste efficiently but also contributes to sustainability and resource conservation.

The Growing Need for Scrap Buyers in India

India generates millions of tons of scrap every year, including metal, plastic, paper, and electronic waste. The unorganized nature of scrap collection and disposal has resulted in significant environmental and health hazards. Scrap buyers act as a bridge between scrap generators (like industries, households, and businesses) and recycling units, ensuring that scrap is collected, sorted, and processed efficiently.

At Waste Material, we understand the critical role that scrap buyers play in this ecosystem. As one of the leading scrap buyers in India, our mission is to provide an effective solution to waste management challenges, promoting a circular economy where waste is minimized, and resources are utilized to their fullest.

Why Choose Professional Scrap Buyers?

Efficient Waste Management: Professional scrap buyers like us at Waste Material ensure that all scrap is collected in a timely and organized manner. We handle everything from collection to transportation, ensuring that waste does not pile up and cause any harm to the environment.

Environmentally Friendly Practices: Scrap buyers help reduce the need for raw materials by recycling existing ones. For instance, recycling metal scrap reduces the need for mining, thereby conserving natural resources and reducing carbon emissions. Our company follows strict environmental guidelines, ensuring that every piece of scrap we handle is recycled or disposed of responsibly.

Cost-Effective Solutions: By choosing reliable scrap buyers, businesses and households can save costs associated with waste disposal. We offer competitive rates and efficient services that make waste management not only easy but also affordable.

Expert Handling of Various Scrap Types: Whether it is electronic waste, metal, plastic, or paper, our team at Waste Material is trained to handle all kinds of scrap. We use state-of-the-art technology to sort and process waste, ensuring maximum recovery of valuable materials. “scrap buyers in India”

Types of Scrap We Handle

At Waste Material, we handle a diverse range of scrap materials:

Metal Scrap: From old machinery to discarded vehicles, metal scrap is one of the most recycled materials. We collect ferrous and non-ferrous metal scrap, including aluminum, copper, brass, and steel.

Electronic Scrap (E-waste): With the rapid technological advancements, electronic waste is growing exponentially. We collect obsolete computers, phones, televisions, and other electronic devices, ensuring safe recycling and disposal of hazardous components.

Plastic Scrap: We collect all types of plastic scrap, including PET bottles, PVC pipes, and packaging materials. Our recycling process ensures that plastic waste is converted into reusable raw materials.

Paper Scrap: From old newspapers to cardboard boxes, we handle all kinds of paper waste, ensuring it is recycled into new products.

The Process: How We Work

Collection: We provide door-to-door scrap collection services, catering to both businesses and households. Our team ensures timely pickups, making the process hassle-free.

Sorting and Segregation: Once collected, the scrap is sorted and segregated based on its type and material. This is a crucial step to ensure efficient recycling.

Recycling: The sorted scrap is then sent to our partner recycling units, where it is processed into new materials, ready for use in various industries.

Disposal of Non-Recyclables: For scrap that cannot be recycled, we ensure safe and environmentally-friendly disposal methods.

Why Choose Waste Material?

Choosing Waste Material as your scrap buyer in India ensures that you are contributing to a sustainable future. Here’s why you should choose us:

Experienced Team: Our team of professionals is trained to handle all types of scrap materials efficiently.

Sustainable Practices: We are committed to promoting sustainability through our recycling efforts and environmentally-friendly practices.

Customer-Centric Approach: We prioritize our customers’ needs, offering flexible pickup schedules, competitive pricing, and exceptional service.

Conclusion

The demand for scrap buyers in India is at an all-time high, driven by the need for effective waste management solutions. At Waste Material, we are dedicated to providing top-notch services that help businesses and households manage their scrap efficiently. By choosing us, you are not only ensuring a cleaner environment but also supporting the circular economy.

Get in touch with us today to learn more about how we can help you manage your scrap materials effectively and responsibly. Together, we can make a difference for a sustainable future!

[creativeera]

Polyvinyl Chloride (PVC) Market is in trends by growing construction activities

With its excellent properties such as durability, resistance to corrosion and moisture, and cost-effectiveness, polyvinyl chloride (PVC) has widespread applications across various end-use industries. Most commonly, PVC is used in pipes, fittings and profiles for plumbing and drainage systems. It is also employed in window frames, sidings, gutters, flooring and wire and cable insulation owing to its strength, flexibility and weather resistance.

The global Polyvinyl Chloride (PVC) market size was valued at US$ 55.73 billion in 2022 and is anticipated to witness a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 3.8 % from 2023 to 2030.

Key Takeaways Key players operating in the Polyvinyl Chloride (PVC) are ChemChina, Formosa Plastics Corporation, Ineos, Inner Mongolia Junzheng Energy and Chemical Group, Kem One, LG Chem, Occidental Petroleum Corporation, Orbia, SABIC, Shaanxi Coal and Chemical Industry Group Co. Ltd, Shin-Etsu Chemical Co. Ltd, Xinjiang Tianye (Group) Co. Ltd, Westlake Chemical Corporation, and Xinjiang Zhongtai Chemicals. With rising urbanization and infrastructural development activities particularly in emerging economies, the demand for PVC from the construction industry is expected to surge.The major players are focusing on capacity expansion plans and strategic collaborations to expand their global reach. The Polyvinyl Chloride (PVC) Market Trends is driven by growing construction activities across the globe. Rapid urbanization and increasing spending on infrastructure development in emerging economies like China, India are fueling the demand for PVC in applications such as pipes, windows, cables. Furthermore, steady recovery of construction sector in developed nations of Europe and North America is also driving its market growth. Market key trends One of the key trends gaining traction in the global PVC market is the increasing adoption of bio-based and recyclable Polyvinyl Chloride (PVC) Market Size and Trends. Traditionally, PVC was produced from petroleum-derived raw materials like ethylene and chlorine. However, with growing environmental concerns, manufacturers have started developing bio-based and recyclable variants of PVC using raw materials from renewable sources like sugarcane or recycled PVC waste. This is expected to make PVC production more sustainable and significantly reduce the carbon footprint.

Porter’s Analysis Threat of new entrants: The high capital intensity required to set up a PVC plant acts as a barrier for new manufacturers to enter the market.

Bargaining power of buyers: Buyers have moderate bargaining power due to the availability of substitutes and fragmented nature of the market.

Bargaining power of suppliers: Suppliers have high bargaining power due to the oligopolistic nature of key raw material markets like ethylene and chloride.

Threat of new substitutes: Substitutes like polyethylene and polypropylene pose threat to PVC especially in non-rigid applications.

Competitive rivalry: Intense competition exists among established players to gain market share. Geographical Regions In terms of value, Asia Pacific dominates the global PVC market currently accounting for over 55% of global consumption. China is the largest producer and consumer of PVC resin globally. Other major markets include India and Southeast Asian countries. The fastest growing region for PVC market is expected to be Asia Pacific during the forecast period. Increasing construction activities, improving economic conditions and rising disposable incomes are fueling the demand for PVC in end use applications like pipes & fittings, films & sheets, wires & cables etc. Countries like China, India are anticipated to drive the growth of PVC market in the region. In contrast, the mature markets of North America and Europe are anticipated to grow at a sluggish pace compared to developing economies of Asia Pacific and South America regions over the next decade.

Get more insights on Polyvinyl Chloride Market

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About Author:

Ravina Pandya, Content Writer, has a strong foothold in the market research industry. She specializes in writing well-researched articles from different industries, including food and beverages, information and technology, healthcare, chemical and materials, etc. (https://www.linkedin.com/in/ravina-pandya-1a3984191)

[akpipes12]

Lowest Price Pipes Showroom In Bhubaneswar

AK Pipes & Sanitary is a popular showroom in Bhubaneswar known for offering a wide variety of high-quality pipes at competitive prices. They specialize in providing affordable solutions for plumbing and sanitary needs, catering to both residential and commercial projects. The showroom stocks pipes made from different materials such as PVC, CPVC, HDPE, and PPR, ensuring customers can find products that suit their specific requirements.

What sets AK Pipes & Sanitary apart is their commitment to maintaining low prices without compromising on quality. They collaborate with reputed brands, guaranteeing durable and reliable products. The showroom also offers excellent customer service, guiding buyers to make informed decisions based on their needs and budget.

Located conveniently in Bhubaneswar, AK Pipes & Sanitary has gained a reputation as one of the city's go-to destinations for affordable piping solutions. Whether you're working on a new construction or a renovation project, this showroom is an ideal choice.

[webscarlet]

Sewer Replacement: Cost, Process, and What to Expect

When it's time to replace a sewer line, it can feel like a daunting task, especially for homeowners, property managers, and DIY enthusiasts. Understanding the cost, process, and what to expect during a sewer replacement can help alleviate some of the stress and uncertainty. At Emergency Sewer Repair Wichita, we’re here to guide you every step of the way. For any emergency assistance, call us at 316-990-5568.

Understanding the Cost of Sewer Replacement

Factors Affecting Sewer Replacement Cost

When it comes to replacing a sewer line, various factors influence the overall cost. The length and depth of the sewer line, the type of piping material used, and the complexity of the job are just a few aspects that affect pricing. On average, homeowners can expect to pay between $3,000 and $6,000, although this range can vary significantly based on specific conditions.

Material Costs

The type of material chosen for the sewer line plays a crucial role in determining the cost. Traditional materials such as clay or cast iron can be more expensive, whereas modern alternatives like PVC or ABS tend to be more cost-effective and easier to install. Each material has its pros and cons, so it's essential to discuss options with your sewer replacement specialist.

The Sewer Replacement Process

Initial Inspection and Assessment

The process begins with a thorough inspection and assessment of the existing sewer line. Using advanced techniques such as video camera inspections, technicians can identify the exact location and extent of any damage. This initial step is crucial for developing an accurate plan and estimates for the replacement.

Excavation and Removal

Once the assessment is complete, the next step involves excavating the area around the damaged sewer line. Depending on the location and depth, this can be a labor-intensive process requiring specialized equipment. After the old sewer line is exposed, it is carefully removed to make way for the new installation.

Installing the New Sewer Line

Choosing the Right Method

There are several methods for installing a new sewer line, including traditional trenching and trenchless technologies. Traditional trenching involves digging a continuous trench to lay the new pipe, while trenchless methods like pipe bursting or pipe lining offer less invasive alternatives. Choosing the right method depends on various factors, including the condition of the existing line and the surrounding landscape.

Connection and Testing

After the new sewer line is installed, it's connected to the home's plumbing system and the municipal sewer main. Rigorous testing is performed to ensure there are no leaks or blockages, and that the system is functioning correctly. This step is vital for preventing future issues and ensuring long-term reliability.

What to Expect During Sewer Replacement

Disruptions to Daily Life

Sewer replacement can be disruptive, especially if excavation is required. Homeowners may experience temporary inconveniences such as restricted access to certain areas of the property, noise from heavy machinery, and potential water shut-offs. It's essential to work closely with your sewer replacement team to minimize disruptions and ensure a smooth process.

Time Frame

The time frame for completing a sewer replacement varies depending on the complexity of the job and the method used. Traditional trenching can take several days to a week, while trenchless methods may be completed in as little as one or two days. Your sewer replacement specialist will provide a detailed timeline based on your specific situation.

Benefits of Professional Sewer Replacement

Enhanced Property Value

Replacing an old or damaged sewer line can significantly enhance the value of your property. Potential buyers are often hesitant to purchase homes with outdated plumbing systems, so having a modern, efficient sewer line can be a strong selling point.

Improved Efficiency and Reliability

A new sewer line ensures improved efficiency and reliability, reducing the risk of future clogs, leaks, or backups. Modern materials and installation techniques provide long-lasting solutions that can withstand the test of time, giving homeowners peace of mind.

Common Issues and Signs You Need Sewer Replacement

Frequent Clogs or Slow Drains

One of the most common signs of a failing sewer line is frequent clogs or slow drains. If you notice recurring issues despite regular maintenance, it may be time to consider a replacement.

Unpleasant Odors and Wet Spots

Unpleasant odors around your property or unexplained wet spots in your yard can indicate a leaking or broken sewer line. These issues should be addressed promptly to prevent further damage and potential health hazards.

Frequently Asked Questions About Sewer Replacement

How Often Should a Sewer Line Be Replaced?

The lifespan of a sewer line varies based on the material used and environmental factors. Traditional materials like clay or cast iron can last 50 to 100 years, while modern materials like PVC typically last 25 to 40 years. Regular inspections can help determine when a replacement is necessary.

Can Sewer Replacement Be Covered by Insurance?

Whether or not sewer replacement is covered by insurance depends on your policy and the cause of the damage. It's essential to review your homeowner's insurance policy and consult with your provider to determine coverage options.

DIY vs. Professional Sewer Replacement

Pros and Cons of DIY Sewer Replacement

While some DIY enthusiasts may consider tackling a sewer replacement project, it's important to weigh the pros and cons. DIY projects can save money upfront, but they often require specialized knowledge, tools, and permits. Mistakes can be costly and may lead to further damage.

Why Hire a Professional?

Hiring a professional for sewer replacement ensures the job is done correctly and efficiently. Professionals have the experience, equipment, and expertise to handle complex projects, minimizing the risk of errors and ensuring compliance with local regulations.

Emergency Sewer Repair Wichita – Your Trusted Partner

At Emergency Sewer Repair Wichita, we specialize in providing top-notch sewer replacement services tailored to your needs. Our team of skilled technicians is dedicated to delivering exceptional results with minimal disruption to your daily life. We take pride in our commitment to customer satisfaction and strive to exceed your expectations.

For reliable and professional sewer replacement services, contact Emergency Sewer Repair Wichita at 316-990-5568. Our friendly team is ready to assist you with your sewer replacement needs and answer any questions you may have.

Ready to upgrade your sewer line and enjoy the benefits of a modern, efficient system? Contact Emergency Sewer Repair Wichita today at 316-990-5568 to schedule a consultation and get started on your sewer replacement project. Don't wait until it's too late—ensure the long-term reliability and value of your property with our expert services.

[rstudframing]

Understanding Red List Free Products and Their Importance in Sustainable Building

In recent years, the construction industry has significantly shifted towards sustainability and environmental responsibility. One crucial aspect of this shift is the use of Red List Free products and Red List Free building materials. These terms may be unfamiliar to some, but they are becoming increasingly important in eco-friendly construction. In this blog, we will explore what Red List Free products are, why they matter, and how they shape building materials' future.

What are Red List Free Products?

Red List Free products refer to building materials that do not contain any of the harmful chemicals listed on the Living Building Challenge (LBC) Red List. The Red List is a compilation of the most harmful chemicals and materials commonly found in building products. These substances are known to be harmful to both human health and the environment, and the goal of the Living Building Challenge is to eliminate their use in construction entirely.

Some of the chemicals and materials on the Red List include:

Asbestos: Known for its carcinogenic properties, asbestos was once widely used for insulation and fireproofing.

Lead: Commonly found in paint and pipes, lead exposure can lead to serious health issues, particularly in children.

PVC (Polyvinyl Chloride): Often used in pipes, wiring, and flooring, PVC is harmful during both its production and disposal.

Formaldehyde: Found in adhesives, paints, and coatings, formaldehyde is a known carcinogen.

The goal of using Red List Free products is to create healthier living environments by avoiding these toxic substances.

Why are Red List Free Products Important?

The use of Red List Free products is crucial for several reasons:

Healthier Indoor Environments: Many of the chemicals on the Red List can off-gas over time, releasing toxins into the indoor air. By choosing Red List Free products, builders can create safer, healthier indoor environments for occupants.

Environmental Responsibility: The production and disposal of Red List chemicals can have devastating effects on the environment. For example, the production of PVC releases dioxins, which are highly toxic and can persist in the environment for years. By avoiding these materials, builders can reduce their environmental footprint.

Compliance with Green Building Standards: Many green building certification programs, such as LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design) and the Living Building Challenge, require or encourage the use of Red List Free materials. Using these products can help builders achieve these certifications, which can add value to the property and appeal to environmentally conscious buyers.

Long-Term Cost Savings: While Red List Free products may sometimes have a higher upfront cost, they can lead to long-term savings. Healthier indoor environments mean fewer health issues for occupants, and environmentally responsible practices can reduce costs associated with environmental cleanup and regulatory compliance.

How to Identify Red List Free Products

Identifying Red List Free products can be challenging, as not all manufacturers label their products accordingly. However, there are several resources and certifications that can help:

Declare Labels: The International Living Future Institute (ILFI) offers the Declare label, which is a product transparency label that lists all the ingredients in a building product. Products with a Declare label that is "Red List Free" are free from all chemicals on the Red List.

Cradle to Cradle Certification: This certification assesses products based on their environmental and human health impact. Products that achieve high levels of Cradle to Cradle certification are often Red List Free.

Manufacturer Disclosures: Some manufacturers voluntarily disclose the ingredients in their products, either on their websites or through third-party databases such as the Health Product Declaration Collaborative (HPD).

Examples of Red List Free Building Materials

Insulation: Traditional insulation materials often contain formaldehyde or other toxic chemicals. Red List Free alternatives include cellulose insulation made from recycled paper or fiberglass insulation with no added formaldehyde.

Paints and Coatings: Many paints contain volatile organic compounds (VOCs) and other harmful chemicals. Red List Free paints are low-VOC or VOC-free and do not contain other Red List chemicals.

Flooring: Vinyl flooring, which is made from PVC, is a common source of harmful chemicals in homes. Red List Free alternatives include natural linoleum, cork, or bamboo flooring.

Plumbing: Traditional plumbing materials like PVC pipes can be replaced with Red List Free options such as copper, PEX, or HDPE pipes.

Adhesives and Sealants: Many adhesives and sealants contain formaldehyde or other toxic chemicals. Red List Free alternatives are available that are water-based and free of harmful chemicals.

The Future of Red List Free Products

The demand for Red List Free products is likely to continue growing as awareness of their benefits increases. More manufacturers are beginning to recognize the importance of transparency and are developing products that meet the criteria for being Red List Free. Additionally, green building certification programs are becoming more stringent, encouraging the use of healthier, more sustainable materials.

At R-stud, we are committed to providing Red List Free building materials that meet the highest standards of health and sustainability. Our products are designed with both the environment and human health in mind, ensuring that your building projects are not only compliant with green building standards but also contribute to a healthier, more sustainable future.

Conclusion

Red List Free products are an essential part of sustainable building practices. By choosing materials that do not contain harmful chemicals, builders can create safer, healthier environments for occupants and reduce their environmental impact. As the demand for these products grows, we will likely see even more innovation and availability in the market. For builders and homeowners alike, understanding and choosing Red List Free building materials is a critical step toward a more sustainable future.

[industrynewsupdates]

Driving Business Growth with Polyvinyl Chloride (PVC) Procurement Intelligence 2024 - 2030

Procurement of PVC benefits buyers from several end-use sectors, such as construction, packaging, automotive, electronics, and healthcare, due to its versatility and abundant applications in these sectors. The global market size was estimated at USD 54.6 billion in 2023. In 2023, APAC dominated the industry, comprising 38% of the global market share in 2023. Countries such as India, China, and Japan are the key contributors to APAC’s growth, prompting supply chain managers to foster their strategies. Key driving factors for other regions, such as North America and Europe, include the substantial presence of key players and technological advancements in manufacturing. Moreover, this is an important material in shock-absorbing automotive components, and sales of automobiles in the aforesaid regions are forecasted to rise exponentially during the next few years.

In 2024, the PVC industry has been significantly impacted by challenges such as raw material price volatility, prohibited usage in green buildings, intense competition from steel and concrete pipes, and health hazards. For instance, the prices of key raw materials used in the production of this commodity, including ethylene and chlorine, are witnessing market fluctuations due to geopolitical tensions, supply chain disruptions, and changes in energy prices. Moreover, green building certifications such as LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design) and other sustainable building standards are increasingly restricting the use of this commodity due to environmental and health concerns.

Key technology trends that are driving the growth include Oriented Polyvinyl Chloride (PVC-O) technology, nanotechnology integration, IoT-integrated pipes, use of hybrid materials, compounding, 3D printing, and climate-resilient designs. Nanotechnology integration is revolutionizing this industry by enhancing material properties through nanocomposites. Innovations like ‘NanoVinyl’ integrate nanomaterials to improve strength and durability while preserving flexibility. Compounding involves enhancing basic resin by adding plasticizers, stabilizers, fillers, pigments, and lubricants. These components influence properties, including flexibility, color, thermal stability, and resistance to UV light and chemicals.

Order your copy of the Polyvinyl Chloride (PVC) Procurement Intelligence Report, 2024 - 2030, published by Grand View Research, to get more details regarding day one, quick wins, portfolio analysis, key negotiation strategies of key suppliers, and low-cost/best-cost sourcing analysis

Key suppliers compete based on pricing, customization, lead time reduction, improving customer service, and enhancing brand reputation. Moreover, they emphasize product quality, use of sustainable materials, innovations, durability and R&D as buyers consider these parameters while sourcing PVC.

The prices of products in this industry fluctuate based on several parameters, including raw material price fluctuations, supply chain disruptions, labor cost variations, fluxes in energy costs, quality, and demand. For instance, various grades of PVC resin serve specific applications and come with different price tags. Premium, impact-resistant PVC commonly used in pipes tends to be more expensive than general-purpose grades. Moreover, resin pricing is significantly impacted by crude oil costs (due to crude oil being a key component used in manufacturing). When crude oil prices rise, resin prices tend to follow a similar trend.

Amid the COVID-19 pandemic, disruptions in supply chains caused global prices to surge temporarily. In response, many governments reduced import duties to stabilize prices. Consequently, PVC imports increased during the pandemic. By 2023, the supply-demand situation somewhat stabilized, although global demand remained slightly below pre-pandemic levels due to a slower-than-anticipated economic resurgence.

PVC Sourcing Intelligence Highlights

• This market consists of a fragmented landscape, with the players engaged in intense competition.

• Owing to the availability of substitutes, buyers have substantial bargaining power and the flexibility to switch to alternative suppliers.

• China, India, and Vietnam are preferred as low-cost or best-cost countries for sourcing due to their low costs of raw materials, cheap labor costs, inexpensive equipment cost, and high domestic production volume.

• The key components of the cost structure include raw materials (such as ethylene and chlorine), labor, equipment, energy, packaging, transportation, and other costs. Other costs include R&D, rent and utilities, compliance, general and administrative, sales and marketing, and taxes.

Browse through Grand View Research’s collection of procurement intelligence studies:

• Polyethylene Terephthalate (PET) Procurement Intelligence Report, 2024 - 2030 (Revenue Forecast, Supplier Ranking & Matrix, Emerging Technologies, Pricing Models, Cost Structure, Engagement & Operating Model, Competitive Landscape)

• Methanol Procurement Intelligence Report, 2023 - 2030 (Revenue Forecast, Supplier Ranking & Matrix, Emerging Technologies, Pricing Models, Cost Structure, Engagement & Operating Model, Competitive Landscape)

PVC - Key Suppliers

• Arkema S.A.

• Formosa Plastics Corporation

• INEOS AG

• KEM ONE SAS

• LG Chem, Ltd.

• Mitsubishi Chemical Group Corporation

• Occidental Petroleum Corporation

• Shin-Etsu Chemical Co., Ltd.

• Sinochem Holdings Corporation Ltd.

• Solvay S.A.

• Westlake Corporation

• Xinjiang Zhongtai Chemical Co., Ltd.

PVC Procurement Intelligence Report Scope

• Growth Rate: CAGR of 3.9% from 2024 to 2030

• Pricing Growth Outlook: 5% - 10% increase (Annually)

• Pricing Models: Cost-plus pricing, volume-based pricing, demand-based pricing, competition-based pricing

• Supplier Selection Scope: Cost and pricing, past engagements, productivity, geographical presence

• Supplier Selection Criteria: Geographical service provision, industries served, years in service, employee strength, revenue generated, key clientele, regulatory certifications, product type (unplasticized / chlorinated / molecularly-oriented / modified), product source (chemical-based / bio-based), delivery mode (offline / online), customer service, lead time, and others

• Report Coverage: Revenue forecast, supplier ranking, supplier matrix, emerging technology, pricing models, cost structure, competitive landscape, growth factors, trends, engagement, and operating model

Brief about Pipeline by Grand View Research:

A smart and effective supply chain is essential for growth in any organization. Pipeline division at Grand View Research provides detailed insights on every aspect of supply chain, which helps in efficient procurement decisions.

Our services include (not limited to):

• Market Intelligence involving – market size and forecast, growth factors, and driving trends

• Price and Cost Intelligence – pricing models adopted for the category, total cost of ownerships

• Supplier Intelligence – rich insight on supplier landscape, and identifies suppliers who are dominating, emerging, lounging, and specializing

• Sourcing / Procurement Intelligence – best practices followed in the industry, identifying standard KPIs and SLAs, peer analysis, negotiation strategies to be utilized with the suppliers, and best suited countries for sourcing to minimize supply chain disruptions

[beyondplumbings]

Top 7 Mistakes to Avoid When Purchasing Online Plumbing Parts

When it comes to maintaining and repairing your home's plumbing system, purchasing plumbing parts online can offer unparalleled convenience and accessibility. 

However, to ensure a successful and satisfying experience, it's crucial to be aware of the common mistakes that individuals should avoid when navigating the world of online plumbing parts shopping.

Online shopping provides the flexibility of browsing a wide range of products from the comfort of your home, comparing prices, and reading customer reviews. Despite these advantages, overlooking essential considerations can lead to costly errors and frustrations.

 In this article, we will explore the top 7 mistakes to steer clear of when purchasing plumbing parts online, empowering you to make informed decisions and optimising your online shopping experience for plumbing supplies.

1. Not Knowing Your Plumbing System

The first and foremost mistake to avoid is proceeding with a purchase without a solid understanding of your home's plumbing system. Each household may have a unique plumbing configuration, and it's vital to identify the specific components and parts required for your system.

Whether it's a traditional water supply and drainage system or a more complex configuration, such as a radiant floor heating system, knowing the specifics of your plumbing layout is crucial. 

For instance, identifying the difference between PVC and copper piping and understanding the compatibility of fixtures with your system can prevent unnecessary returns and exchanges.

To accurately identify the parts needed for your plumbing system, consult your home's original blueprints or seek guidance from a professional.

2. Ignoring Product Reviews and Ratings

Product reviews and ratings serve as valuable indicators of a product's quality and performance. Ignoring or overlooking customer feedback can lead to purchasing subpar or unsuitable plumbing parts. 

Before finalising a purchase, read genuine product reviews to gain insights into previous buyers' experiences.

Positive reviews and high ratings can instill confidence in the reliability of a product, while consistently negative feedback should raise red flags. 

Prioritising products with a track record of positive customer experiences can significantly reduce the likelihood of disappointment.

3. Overlooking Product Specifications

One of the most common errors in online plumbing parts shopping is neglecting to thoroughly review product specifications. The dimensions, materials, and compatibility of a plumbing part are critical factors that directly impact its suitability for your intended application.

Matching the specifications of a product with your existing plumbing fixtures is essential to ensure a seamless fit and proper functionality. 

Ignoring this step can result in receiving a part that is incompatible or ill-suited for your system, leading to additional costs and delays in your repair or installation efforts.

4. Neglecting to Measure Properly

Accurate measurements are paramount when purchasing plumbing parts online. Failing to measure pipes, fittings, and other components correctly can lead to costly errors and setbacks in your plumbing projects.

Before placing an order, take the time to measure the required dimensions meticulously. 

Whether it's the diameter of a pipe or the size of a replacement fixture, precision is key to ensuring a seamless and successful installation or repair.

5. Failing to Consider Return Policies

Understanding the return policies of online retailers is a crucial aspect of online plumbing part purchases. Despite meticulous planning and consideration, there may be instances where a purchased part needs to be returned or exchanged.

Choosing vendors with favourable return and exchange policies can provide peace of mind, knowing that you have recourse in case of receiving an incorrect or incompatible product. 

Being aware of the return process and any associated costs can prevent unexpected challenges and promote a smoother overall shopping experience.

6. Disregarding Professional Advice

Seeking professional advice or consulting with a plumber before making specific plumbing part purchases can prevent costly mistakes and ensure the optimal selection of components for your system.

Professionals possess valuable expertise and insights that can guide you in choosing the most suitable parts for your plumbing needs. 

Whether it's identifying the ideal material for a specific application or determining the compatibility of different components, leveraging expert knowledge can enhance the success of your plumbing projects.

7. Rushing the Purchase Decision

Rushing through the online purchase process without adequate consideration can lead to regrettable outcomes and unnecessary expenses. Taking the time to compare options, prices, and specifications is essential for making informed decisions and avoiding buyer's remorse.

Patience is a virtue when it comes to purchasing plumbing parts online. By exercising patience and thorough consideration, you can optimise the value of your investments and achieve favourable results in your plumbing endeavours.

Conclusion

In conclusion, steering clear of these common mistakes can significantly enhance your online shopping experience for plumbing supplies. 

By understanding your plumbing system, prioritising product reviews and specifications, and taking a deliberate approach to the purchasing process, you can avoid unnecessary complications and frustrations.

Remember to apply these guidelines in your future online plumbing part purchases to maximise the efficiency and success of your plumbing projects. 

With the accessibility and convenience of online plumbing parts shopping, coupled with informed decision-making, you can embark on your plumbing endeavours with confidence and clarity.

For quality supplies, you must scroll to Beyond Plumbing Supplies Store now and get the best deal on your supplier.

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Vinyl Chloride Monomer (VCM) Prices Trend | Pricing | Database | Index | News | Chart

 Vinyl Chloride Monomer (VCM) prices have been a focal point in the chemical industry due to their critical role in the production of polyvinyl chloride (PVC), a versatile and widely used plastic. The pricing dynamics of VCM are influenced by various factors including raw material costs, supply and demand balance, production capacities, and geopolitical events. Understanding these factors is essential for stakeholders in the chemical industry, as fluctuations in VCM prices can significantly impact profit margins and market strategies.

One of the primary determinants of VCM prices is the cost of ethylene, the key raw material used in its production. Ethylene prices are themselves influenced by the global oil market, as ethylene is derived from either crude oil or natural gas. When oil prices rise, the cost of ethylene typically follows, leading to increased production costs for VCM. Conversely, a decline in oil prices can lead to lower ethylene costs, potentially reducing VCM prices. This relationship makes VCM prices susceptible to the volatility of the global energy markets, adding a layer of complexity for producers and buyers.

Supply and demand dynamics also play a crucial role in determining VCM prices. On the supply side, the capacity and operational efficiency of VCM production facilities are significant factors. Any disruptions in production, whether due to technical issues, maintenance shutdowns, or natural disasters, can lead to supply shortages and drive prices up. Additionally, geopolitical events, such as trade disputes or sanctions, can disrupt the supply chain and impact prices. For example, restrictions on trade between key producing regions and major consumers can create supply bottlenecks, leading to price increases.

Get Real Time Prices of Vinyl Chloride Monomer (VCM): https://www.chemanalyst.com/Pricing-data/vinyl-chloride-monomer-69

On the demand side, the consumption patterns of PVC, which is the main end-product of VCM, heavily influence VCM prices. PVC is used in a wide range of applications, from construction materials like pipes and window frames to consumer goods and packaging. Therefore, economic conditions that affect the construction industry, automotive production, and consumer spending can significantly impact PVC demand and, consequently, VCM prices. For instance, a booming construction sector typically drives up demand for PVC, thereby increasing the demand for VCM and pushing prices higher. Conversely, economic downturns that slow construction activity can lead to reduced demand and lower prices.

The global VCM market is also influenced by regional production capacities and trade flows. Asia, particularly China, is a major player in the VCM market due to its substantial production capacities and high demand for PVC. Developments in the Chinese market, including changes in environmental regulations, capacity expansions, and shifts in domestic demand, can have significant ripple effects on global VCM prices. Additionally, the U.S. and Europe are important regions in the VCM market, with their own production capacities and regulatory landscapes impacting supply and pricing.

Environmental regulations and sustainability initiatives are increasingly shaping the VCM market. Stricter environmental regulations can lead to higher production costs as companies invest in cleaner technologies and processes to comply with these regulations. These additional costs are often passed on to consumers in the form of higher VCM prices. Moreover, the growing emphasis on sustainability and reducing carbon footprints is prompting companies to explore alternative materials and more efficient production methods, which can influence market dynamics and pricing.

Technological advancements and innovation in production processes also affect VCM prices. Improvements in production efficiency, such as the adoption of more advanced catalytic processes or enhanced recycling technologies, can reduce production costs and potentially lower prices. However, the initial investment required for these technological upgrades can be substantial, and the benefits may take time to materialize.

In summary, VCM prices are influenced by a complex interplay of factors including raw material costs, supply and demand dynamics, regional market developments, geopolitical events, environmental regulations, and technological advancements. Stakeholders in the VCM and PVC industries must continuously monitor these variables to navigate the market effectively. Understanding these factors can help companies make informed decisions regarding production, procurement, and pricing strategies, ultimately contributing to more stable and predictable business operations. As the global economy continues to evolve, staying abreast of changes in these key areas will be crucial for maintaining competitiveness in the VCM market.

Get Real Time Prices of Vinyl Chloride Monomer (VCM): https://www.chemanalyst.com/Pricing-data/vinyl-chloride-monomer-69

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[devender67]

In a rapidly growing city like Hyderabad, effective waste management is crucial to maintaining cleanliness, sustainability, and a high quality of life. One of the key players in this arena is the community of scrap buyers, who play a significant role in recycling and reusing materials that would otherwise end up in landfills. At "Waste Material," we are dedicated to providing efficient scrap buying services to help Hyderabad become a greener and cleaner city.

The Importance of Scrap Buyers in Hyderabad

Scrap buyers form the backbone of the waste management system by purchasing recyclable materials, such as metals, plastics, paper, and e-waste, from individuals, households, and businesses. This process not only reduces the amount of waste that ends up in landfills but also promotes the reuse of valuable resources, contributing to environmental sustainability. “hyderabad scrap buyers”

Hyderabad, with its vibrant industrial and commercial activities, generates a substantial amount of scrap materials every day. The role of scrap buyers is vital in ensuring that these materials are collected, sorted, and recycled properly. By partnering with reliable scrap buyers, you contribute to reducing the carbon footprint, saving energy, and conserving natural resources.

Why Choose "Waste Material" for Your Scrap Needs?

At "Waste Material," we understand the importance of responsible waste management and are committed to providing top-notch scrap buying services in Hyderabad. Here are a few reasons why you should consider us for your scrap needs:

1. Eco-Friendly Approach

Our primary focus is on reducing environmental impact through responsible waste management practices. We ensure that all the scrap materials collected are processed and recycled in compliance with environmental regulations, minimizing pollution and promoting sustainability.

2. Competitive Pricing

We offer fair and transparent pricing for all types of scrap materials. Our team of experts evaluates the scrap and provides a competitive price, ensuring that you get the best value for your waste. Whether you have a small amount of household scrap or bulk industrial waste, we provide a price that reflects the current market rates.

3. Convenient Pickup Services

We understand that dealing with scrap can be a hassle, which is why we offer convenient pickup services across Hyderabad. Simply contact us, and our team will reach your location to collect the scrap materials at a time that suits you best. This hassle-free approach saves you time and effort, making waste disposal easier than ever. “hyderabad scrap buyers”

4. Wide Range of Materials Accepted

"Waste Material" accepts a wide variety of scrap materials, including:

Metal Scrap: Iron, steel, aluminum, copper, brass, etc.

Plastic Scrap: PET bottles, HDPE containers, PVC pipes, etc.

Paper and Cardboard: Newspapers, magazines, office paper, cartons, etc.

E-Waste: Old computers, mobile phones, printers, cables, etc.

Household Items: Old furniture, appliances, batteries, etc.

No matter the type or volume of scrap, we are equipped to handle it all.

5. Reliable and Professional Service

Our team of experienced professionals is dedicated to providing reliable and efficient scrap buying services. We prioritize customer satisfaction and aim to build long-term relationships based on trust and transparency. With "Waste Material," you can expect timely responses, professional conduct, and a commitment to ethical business practices.

How to Sell Your Scrap to "Waste Material"?

Selling your scrap to us is simple and straightforward:

Contact Us: Reach out to us via phone, email, or our website to schedule a pickup or inquire about our services.

Schedule a Pickup: Choose a convenient time for our team to visit your location and collect the scrap materials.

Receive Payment: After evaluating the scrap, we provide an immediate payment based on the current market rates.

Join Hands for a Cleaner Hyderabad

By choosing "Waste Material" as your scrap buyer in Hyderabad, you are not only getting rid of unwanted waste but also contributing to a cleaner and greener environment. Our commitment to eco-friendly practices ensures that every piece of scrap is recycled properly, reducing the strain on natural resources and decreasing pollution levels. “hyderabad scrap buyers”

Conclusion

If you have scrap materials piling up, don’t let them go to waste. Reach out to "Waste Material," Hyderabad’s trusted scrap buyer, and make a positive impact on the environment while earning money for your discarded items. Together, we can make Hyderabad a model city for sustainable waste management.