#aaa this has been sitting in my drafts for a bit

[paddingtonfan69]

8, 11, 19 and 20!

thanks pal! getting a little verbose here oops

8. What fic meant the most to you to write?

I love all my children equally and they all mean things in different ways! but that is a boring answer so I’ll say anything can happen in the woods as my first foray into writing for agatha all along. I had only written one (1) fic in 2024 before october, and it had been a couple years since I watched an episode of television and then immediately had to write about it, but 1.04 aired and my ass rushed home and immediately spewed the first draft out in one sitting. which then let to me spewing out five more aaa fics in 2024. so that first one holds a special place in my heart because it was the gateway drug to writing these characters, which has been a true joy for the last few months, especially during november when I really needed something fun and all consuming to take over my brain! also that specific fic was so fun because it was that special kind of rushed enthusiasm that only happens in my beloved WEEK TO WEEK TV, where you only have part of the story but you gotta write within those confines. a joy!

11. What fic was the most difficult to write?

definitely now I understand, and it’s time to leave the woods because it started just as a desire to wrap up my little into the woods series but then became this sort of big centuries spanning timeline spanning deal and then I was like wait it works better told backwards (merrily we roll along style, if you will) and so there were a lot of logistics to work out. not to mention that it was def the most emotionally weighty fic I’ve written for agatha and rio, but I still wanted it to be fun and goofy, so there was a good amount of tonal things to balance too. anyway very proud of the final product but def the most I had to THINK while writing instead of just letting it spill out.

19. Share your favorite piece of dialogue

okay so hard bc I am a dialogue bitch through and through, but one of my favorite dynamics to write is agatha and rio and also a third person there who has to deal with their bullshit. idk about favorite, but I’m particularly fond of this bit with billy from the tax evasion fic, because it’s just fun to see them all bounce off of each other. also really love the idea of of rio being forced to know what dear evan hansen is against her will, so much so that it spawned a whole other fic ooo

20. Share your funniest line

same fic, gonna have to go with “you don’t just say cunt in a sweetgreen” really proud of that one. also when I was doing the dangerous activity of looking myself up on twitter a few weeks ago, I did find this and it made me very proud!!

oh to have something i’ve written immortalized in the brat font, the truest honor!!!

end of year fic asks

[chestcongestion]

Do you have any snz headcanons for Stolas?

A a a aaa snzcanon train goes c r azy, I have many!! (Also hello hiiii, seeing you in my notes every now and again has been so sweet, I am waving ecstatically ^^)

Cannot stifle to save his life, he was never taught how and it never feels right, if the sneeze doesn't hit, he will sneeze again and again until it hits right, his body demands it.

Sneezes end up being a bit owl-y, lots of "Hnk'TsSHOO! H-hah'KSsSHOO! HrR'SsCHOO!"

Usually sneezes in doubles or triples, a single sneeze is rare.

Being sheltered for most of his developmental years gave him a l o t of allergies: dust, mold, mildew, cat hair, lavender, a lot of the "cheaper" soaps and shampoos (He is s o thankful that Bl/itz is bald), the list goes on

Was also only taught how to cover his sneeze using a handkerchief, not his arm, because god forbid he sully his beautiful expensive clothes, which means that if he doesn't have a hanky to cover with... he's using his hands (yeah...super classy)

Always has at least one handkerchief on him at all times, and is not above using a pocket square as a makeshift handkerchief if he needs to/ if his regular hanky is already soaked.

Not a very wet sneezer, his sinuses tend to be very dry unless he's got a particularly nasty cold (unfortunately this means he's prone to "nose"/beak bleeds with all of his sneezing causing friction without moisture)

His eyes water a lot, it looks almost elegant and dainty as though he's a bit teary-eyed or passively crying, but then his sclerae turn red and his lower eyelids get puffy and it goes from "Aww cute" to "Here is ALL of the Hell-Dryl, go nuts"

Gets very sneezy when he drinks, particularly when he drinks red wine because it's so "dusty"...and also because he might be allergic to it, who's to say, he refuses to get another allergy test done because last time he got so many positives that the itching nearly turned him feral.

His immune system leaves... some things to be desired. It isn't necessarily weak, but it's definitely been skipping the gym. If he's around someone while they're ill, or even around someone who's been around someone else who was ill, he's probably catching it.

Has a more fragile constitution, something that St/el/la pestered him about constantly, telling him to cover up, layer up, stay out of drafts, because if there was one thing worse than being seen with her wimpy husband, it was being seen with him while he was sniffling and sneezing.

^ He would complain that she exaggerated but she was 100% right. Opening the freezer while still damp from the bath? Cold. Sitting in a draft without his dressing gown or a cardigan? Cold. Not toweling off after gardening in the rain? Cold.

^ He has a sore throat every other week because he refuses to stop walking around his big drafty palace with his dressing gown open and his chest out. Stubborn motherfucker.

[crescencestudio]

Devlog #31 | 05.29.23

Hi everyone!

I am once again bringing you a monthly update. As some of you may know, I recently announced I am participating in Otome Jam this year. With that said, this devlog will be a bit unique in that it will include updates for both "intertwine" (very general updates) and "Alaris" (our usual program of updates) \o/

Writing

Ah, the section that made me sad every time I looked at it for the past two months (kidding, I'm being dramatic). As you all may know, I'm creating a project for OtoJam, "intertwine."

“Would you choose me in every lifetime?”

With another creative project and my dissertation, I was nervous this month that Druk's route was going to make little progress in the writing department yet again.

BUT I AM VERY HAPPY TO SAY THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN OWO

Intertwine has very much given me the creative boost I needed to combat my burnout/rut, and I was able to make a lot of progress on both projects (and my dissertation!). Intertwine script is currently sitting at 15k words and is in the final developmental stage as we speak. I was able to write up a little under half of Druk's script and it currently sits at 20k words!

There are still a couple of scenes I need to go back and write in, but I'm confident they will be easy to write because they're more fun/juicy scenes. Additionally, the remaining half of Druk's route will be pretty action-packed, which is much easier for me to write than the more subtle plot beats. So I'm quite confident I'll be able to finish Druk's route by our next update, which also means Alaris will officially reach the halfway mark for the script!!! AAA. I also wrote 10k words for my dissertation, so I wrote like 50k words this month YAY I WAH

Art

Regarding the art front, most of my attention has been on intertwine this month due to time constraints. I've finished the base sprite, most of the GUI mockups, and some CGs!

We also got this beautiful logo from puchi for the game, and I'm excited to soon show you all more progress pictures ^^

Promo art feat. Vân and Game Logo

For Alaris, Vui continues to hit it out of the park with the backgrounds. I have previews of the Dawn and Dusk Court for you all, and they are beauty! I'm so excited to receive more Fae related BGs from him, though I may not be able to show as many to you all because spoilers from here on out <\3

Dawn Court

Dusk Court

Additional Notes

The remaining soundtracks for Alaris were completed this month by Peter as well! I still am in the process of reviewing them as they're moreso in the draft stages, but they're sounding beautiful so far.

Intertwine will also be featuring voice acting, and with auditions closing soon, we’ll be selecting a voice for Vân as well in the near future ^^

No market research this month, but I did read the Villains Are Destined to Die manhwa and that art and Callisto are so yummy

Anyways, I think that's enough from me, so that is all for this month's update! Stay safe, and see you all next month <3

[moefongo]

Since I’m not gonna ask for haru again (i still want more but I’ll stop-), do you have any more headcanons for Logan? :3

Of course I do! And you can always ask for Haru! Also this has been in my drafts for ages im so sorry aaa

Logan attempting to cook for the builder

Its the thought that matters, am I right? His food makes Grace's look like it's gourmet.

Logan had planned this for so long, he even begged Owen to teach him how to cook better (though Owen knows Logan is a lost cause when it comes to cooking, but he's so desperate that he didn't have the heart to say no).

Logan waited for the builder to leave to gather materials and began to work. He cooked a three course "meal" for them. And as his cooking, the kitchen was a disaster as well; there were piles upon piles of dishes, pots, pans and even a cast iron skillet; which definitely isn't Owen's favorite cast iron skillet, and he totally did not steal when he was with him the other day.

The best part was when the builder arrived home. Usually Logan was out in the yard helping them out while waiting for them to come back which was a bit strange but they assumed Logan was busy with else and with that they step inside their home to get started on diner and what do they see? Well they find Logan nervously setting up the dinner table and when he saw them he rushed over to drag them to sit down and relax.

He then disappeared to the kitchen and came back with the food. When the builder saw it they felt true fear for the first time, heck not even Pen made them fear for their life as much as this. But seeing how proud Logan felt was more than enough for them to power through the entire thing.

Despite the food poisoning, it was heart warming to see how much Logan loves them, even if they have to drink Fang's equivalent of pepto bismol for a whole week.

They also never got to see the mess of dishes, including the cast iron skillet which was washed thoroughly and returned to Owen. In the other hand, Owen almost had a heart attack on the spot since that cast iron skillet was his dad's and it had been seasoned for over 20 years.

[frenziedslashers]

Ayo! Ima be honest there, this fic with wounded Handsome Jack x Reader was the first one where I didn't skip a single word, like aaa u did it so great!

I had a thought about something oppsite - where it is the reader who gets hurt, and HJ is the one saving them and taking care... likeeee AAA.... it could be fluff, or something more dramatic and bloody, whatever you thing would be great :D I just can see it written great by your talented hands

This literally made me smile so much??? I am so scared to post Jack content because I always feel like I butcher his character (I have a couple drafts that I have been working on. They are pretty much ready to post, I'm just a little scared. I swear I am not ignoring the Jack asks 👹). I am honored that you liked it that much though! As someone who has read nearly all the xReader Borderlands content on ao3, I totally get that... Some nice I had to skip paragraphs because it was either too ooc or just... Odd... I forget how scary some borderlands fans are 😟 There are a lot of pics on there that I adore, but I feel like every fandom has those pics that you just physically cannot finish. So I am glad that my Jack was good enough 💪💪 ALSO thank you for the love homie. glad you sent in a request! I love me some angst that leads to fluff 😌

Flying Bullets:

"More incoming!" Jack screamed over your com, a grunt leaving your throat as you slammed your body against a crate in a poor attempt to avoid the bullets that flew overhead. You had no idea how you got yourself into this mess. Let alone with Handsome Jack. You knew he was bad news. Everyone despised him, but you still saw him as John, who simply worked with you for Hyperion and was incidentally your best friend as well.

You saw him as the guy who you would sit with alone for lunch break. The both of you talking and laughing over nothing. The friend that would take you out for drinks after a hard day of work and even hit on you here or there. Though, nothing serious ever happened between the two of you.

"Kiddo, answer me!" You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Jack's voice screaming into your ears. It made you flinch, a cringe settling on your face. "I hear you, Jackie." You responded, shooting a couple times at the Raiders that ran out into your line of sight.

"Are you able to get to where I'm at?" You huffed a bit. As if you would know exactly where he was without him sharing his coordinates. "Where's your location?" "I'm up near the front gate. If you get here we can get to a ship out of this shit hole and back to Helios!" He spoke, and you groaned again. Your shield was low and broken. It wasn't recharging anymore. A problem that you were almost scared to tell Jack. The confrontation would go either one of two ways. He'd freak out, worry, and throw himself into the line of fire to make sure you were safe. Or he'd freak out, worry, and then yell at you for being so stupid and agreeing to go with him to Pandora with a shitty shield.

"Can you do that?" You pondered, "I can try."

It was a hard task to complete. You figured if you did die in this fight you may as well go out guns-a-blazin'. Shooting round after round into the Crimson Raiders that tried to take you down. You nearly made it to Jack, too. If it weren't for a Raider you missed shooting you once, breaking your shield. Then twice, a fatal shot to your back.

The scream that ripped from your chest had your head pounding, and Jack's heading whipping towards you.

"Kid," He stammered, "Kiddo? Pumpkin?" His voice wavered, and then something clicked in the guy. If your vision wasn't blurry from the pain as you lay on the ground. You would have seen the glint of rage behind the mans eyes. The way his face shifted from concern to pure rage. It made the few remaining Crimson Raiders freeze up. Knowing Jack was going to be putting up a hell of a fight.

Screams and gunfire were all you could hear in your ringing ears. You could hardly decipher the screams of the dying to Jack's war cries. If you weren't dying yourself, you might actually feel a bit scared, but right now you could hardly care. Gasping and wincing while lying helplessly on the ground. You could hardly move without your whole body sending shocks of pain through itself.

"Hey, hey," His hand on your back made you cry out again. You hadn't even noticed that Jack was at your side now. Attempting to tend to your wounds to get you back home. Back to Helios where you would be safe and someone could save you. "I know, I have to look at it!" He snapped, but quickly cleared his throat. "Dammit, sorry. I just need to see it. I'm not trying to hurt you, pumpkin." He told you, trying his best to be careful while he moved your clothing up so he could see the wound a bit better. Your cries making him wince himself. You'd think he would have been shot, too. Just from hearing the pathetic noises you were making.

"Oh shit, God this is bad. Why didn't you tell me your shield was low? I could have came to you!" There it was. Option one of how you expected him to react if you would have told him your shield was down. You wanted to smile, laugh a little at how well you knew your friend, but your thoughts were quickly pushed aside when Jack decided to apply pressure. A scream left your throat, and your vision went blurry. It was too hard to stay awake no matter how much Jack pleaded with you to keep your eyes open. You hadn't realized how much he really cared for you until you were nearly meeting your Maker. Vision finally blurring enough that all you could see was black. Your senses dulling, succumbing to the darkness once you passed out in his arms.

Jack had no idea that you had just passed out, though. He thought you died, but that didn't stop him from picking your body up from the ground to carry you back to the ship. He was just thankful that he had people on there to pilot it for him, and some health to at least give you a slight boost until the two of you made it back to Helios.

He refused to let you go until those doors opened. Continuing to apply pressure after he had wrapped his belt and one of his jackets awkwardly around your middle to help stall the bleeding. There was so much blood. His clothes were soaked. His skin was sticky with sweat and blood. The thing of it is, he didn't even know if it was all your blood. Some of it had to be from the Raiders he killed after you were shot. His anger getting the best of him like it regularly did.

"Sir, you need to let them go." He looked up at the nurse in front of him. "What?" His voice was shaky. "I need you to let them go and put them on the table now before they lose any more blood. I need to get them into the infirmary, now." They stated sternly, and Jack nodded with understanding. Laying you reluctantly on the bed. These were his own men and women working for him, but he was so scared to trust them with you. You were the only good thing he had left that was connected to his old life, rather than Angel. You were almost a better memory holder than she was, though. With her being the reason her mother died and all.

It wasn't until later that night, nearly five hours later that Jack was informed that you were in Critical, but stable condition. He knew you wouldn't be able to help him with his plans for the next coming weeks, and honestly, he was glad. Not that he didn't enjoy your help, he just always worried about your safety. This call was too close for comfort. It nearly made him postpone his plans of finding the Vault, too. If it weren't for the fact that he was literally the man's most wanted by the Vault Hunters themselves. That didn't stop him from trying to take care of you to the best of his abilities, though. Even going as far as sending people to check up on you when he was away from Helios.

"Jack," you would say his name, and he would be there. Holding your hand, offering food, water, entertainment, whatever it was you asked. He was giving it to you. You were his light after all. The brightest star in his galaxy. Even if he didn't show you how much he cared, often. He truly did.

It was almost weird for you. He was always so snarky and rude with you. Even if you knew that was just how he showed his affection. How he told you that he loved and appreciated you as a friend without telling you those exact words. You almost weren't sure if you liked how nice he was being with you.

"Why haven't you called me an idiot." He looked up from the book in his hands over to you with raised brows. "Excuse me?" "When I nearly got myself killed. I expected you to at least call me stupid for it. I didn't tell you my shield was broken and not recharging, and yet here you are. Being all sweet and nice to me. It's kind of scary, honestly... You aren't a doppelgänger, are you?" Jack smiled as he placed his book down in his lap. "Well, now that you say it. I did forget to tell you how utterly idiotic that stunt was and if you ever go pulling it again I will personally revive you just to shoot you again." Jack told you, and that caused a smile to form on your own features. There he was. "Oh, so I should have just ignored direct orders?" He rolled his eyes with a sigh. "No, you should have told me what was happening and I could have come to help. You really think I like putting you at risk?" Well, it seemed like it. With the number of close calls you have had, and then this.

He sighed at your lack of a response. "I don't. I really don't. I only take you along because I know you'd find a way fighting those assholes without me or with me. I may as well be there to revive you when you decide to do something stupid." You rolled your eyes this time. "Didn't realize you actually cared about me." He froze up when you said that. You were only joking, and you thought that he could tell, but obviously that seemed to strike a chord with the man before you.

"Oh, so you think I don't care about you either? What the hell has the past few weeks been? I've laid off finding the fricken Vault for you! I've been by your side, making sure you don't die on me and you think I don't care about you?" He shouted, tossing his book to the side while standing to his feet. "Why don't you fill me in on what it is I feel about you then. Why every time I see you I want to blow my brains out because of how much I care about you. Shit, it's annoying, honestly!" Jack started approaching you. Slight more weight to his steps than usual. Obviously pissed and growing more so by the second. "I could have left you to die." He told you, a slight grin on his face as he laughed out of disbelief for himself. "Hell! I would have left any one of my other employees or skilled assassins there to die! But I just couldn't fricken leave you there, now could I? Not when you're the one real thing that I have anymore."

Your eyes were wide. Staring up at the man who was looming over you as you lay on the bed. You looked a little scared, but you were more so taken aback by his words. Yeah, he was basically saying he would have left you for dead if the two of you didn't have a connection, but he was also admitting things that you never thought you'd hear from him.

"I don't mean to yell," Even though that seemed to be the only thing he knew how to do. "I just... I hate that you would even suggest that I don't care about you. I mean, c'mon! Look at everything we've been through!" He exclaimed as he sat on the bed beside you.

Yeah. Everything the two of you have been through. Working together. Getting fired together. Jack gaining power. You gaining power through Jack. Late nights together. Even an attempted date before his ex had come along. It was a lot, and you regretted making him think that you thought he didn't care.

"Jack, I'm sorry. I was just joking around." You admitted, reaching out to grab his hand. His eyes darted down and then back up to study your face. "Could you ever forgive me?" He pondered, a smile creeping on his lips. "Oh, I don't know. I guess I could forgive a cute thing like you." A sigh left your lips, tapping the top of his hand. "If I didn't know any better. I'd say you were flirting with me, Jackie." The way you purred out his name in such a teasing way made his blood boil. Out of annoyance at the nickname, and slight excitement from just the sound. "Well, I could be if you wanna interpret it that way, pumpkin." His hand reached up to brush your chin with his thumb. "I think it's your turn to be called out for your ignorance of my own emotions." His brows furrowed, sighing at his dumbfounded expression.

"So... Was that a yes?" "Jack," "Huh?" "You're as oblivious as the day I met you." He stared at you for a moment longer. "I'm saying yes, Jack. Jesus Christ and you're supposed to be the flirt of Helios?" He let out a groan of his own before carefully maneuvering himself over top of you so he could lay on the other side of you on the bed. "Oh shut it, you're the one overcomplicating shit." He huffed, carefully pulling you close to him to hint that the both of you needed a nap. Whether you wanted one or not. "Just shut up and sleep. We can talk about our stupid emotions later. You ruined the moment by calling me an idiot." "Oh, like you haven't been calling me one for the past 10 minutes. Plus I didn't even call you one!" "Well, that's different, and yes you basically did. I'm not arguing further." "Fine."

[baraqi]

enha’s reaction to a s/o who loves plushies

this has been marinating in my drafts n i just finished it so here’s some fluff

heeseung

loves ittt. prolly would give u his if he was cleaning out his things and finds one he can do without but wants it to go to a special home. bc who would take care of them better than his own special girl/boy? which then ends up being ur favorite and taking a spot on ur bed like a king. and it makes his heart all fuzzy seeing u fall asleep with it in ur arms or treating it so gently. almost jealous bc he wants to cuddle u while u sleep :’). so he’ll carefully move it up so it’s still in ur reach but allowing him to slip next to u n gives u a kiss on ur forehead while u snuggle into his chest.

jay

thinks it’s adorable. knows all of their names, where u got them, which ones u sleep with most, he’s got this shit DOWN. starts to have his own favorites too. if ur watching movies or smth u both grab one or a few to keep alongside. “nono i need stitch i always have him🙄” and would buy a lot of the bigger ones/ones that can be used as cushions too (he’s the poster boy of the bf who stops at nothing to win a big plushie for his s/o). sometimes if he wants to kiss u he turns the ones near him around bc “how can i focus on kissing you while hello kitty’s eyes are burning into my skull” “jay i doubt she cares who’s she gonna tell with no mouth?” “you seen how toy story works!”

jake

when he sees ur room, u look at him for his reaction, expecting his eyes to widen or a perplexed “woah” or smth. he just looks around and goes “hehe cute” and pats ur head. wouldn’t say anything else abt it. he had come by to help u study so u guys would do that for a while until u excuse urself to go to the bathroom. he’d sit there for a second just fidgeting a bit until he looks at a lil dog one that was on the chair. he holds it n just looks at it, smiling at the little name “jake” on the back of its collar. u come back and u feel ur cheeks grow hot bc u never told him abt that. “is this lil guy named after me?” “sorry if it’s weird-” “no i like it! he’s cute. his fur’s the same color as my hair too!” would buy u mainly dog ones bc cmon he’s a dog person. you’d probably have a special spot where u keep the ones he’s given u. refers to them as u guys’ kids. “this family of ours is getting large, jakey.” “get a bigger couch then because we’re not disowning them🙄.”

sunghoon

he doesn’t get it 100% but still likes how they make u happy, so he’s happy too. if he’s over ur place and absentmindedly tossing a small one back and forth in his hands you’ll whine at him to stop bc “you’re hurting his feelings i bet he’s getting dizzy” “love, he can’t feel dizziness” u ruffle his hair and he laughs. he’d point around ur room asking their names and where u got them bc he loves seeing u talk abt smth you’re passionate about. in the middle of ur sentence he’ll lean in to kiss u softly on ur lips bc he thinks u look so cute going on and on. when u both pull away he laughs at ur astounded face n tells u to finish ur story.

sunoo

he’d love it idc. idk if he actually does but i feel it in my spirit he has his fair share at home. brings one or two if he’s staying over once he finds out so they can “get to know each other.”

“if tokki doesn’t get along with them i’m afraid this relationship will not work🙄”/j. another one who does that thing where he makes the plushies kiss u even if u find it cringey.

if he’s out and sees one that reminds him of u or that you’ve talked abt, he’ll buy it without a second thought. he loves being able to add to ur lil collection. he’ll come home like “i have a present for you close your eyes and hold out your hands (⌒▽⌒)” so u do and u feel smth soft placed in ur hands. u open ur eyes and smile at the plush fox u hold in front of u. “aaa thank you sunny thank you thank you!” u say in excitement as u bring him in for a big hug, his face breaking out in a bright smile. and idk if they’re in korea but build a bear dates with him☹️☹️

jungwon

found it a lil odd/didn’t see the appeal at first but quickly grew used to it bc he loves u ofc. it’d take more than some stuffed bears to change his view of u. ur not hurting anyone and it makes u happy so who is he to judge? would buy u one sometimes for special occasions or just because. if u name one after him he’d be so smiley and honored bc wow! ur thing that u love and u want him to be a part of it! dimples out n all.

niki

it was his first time over ur house. u guys go into ur room and the first thing he notices is a few on ur bed and a bunch others scattered around the room. “friends of yours?” he nods towards a couple on the chair. u laugh “sorry if it’s weird.” he reassures u that it’s not. ik he’s got that curious george one so if he sleeps over he brings him so u don’t feel awkward being the only one sleeping with one. he’d poke fun at u a lil bit sometimes, or hold one above ur head so u can’t reach to see u pout n whine at him to give it back, but at the end of the day, he thinks it’s super cute n loves all the things that make u happy!

[fairyhaos]

"if anyone else wants to come and discuss the colours i put for the members in my inbox.... yall can RUN here i wanna talk about it so bad" all you had to do was ask, yena <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)>

i actually don't know if i have synesthesia (but when i was a kid i would associate personalities(?) with the letters of the alphabet as well as numbers ? ? idk how to explain it but 3 would be this rly sweet character whereas the number 4 would be a bit on the shyer/quieter side,,, does that make sense ? bye where is this going O⁠_⁠o) but when i first saw ur post about cheol being burgundy it was just so,,, aaa idk it just made so much sense ? it was so intriguing that my mind had already associated certain colors w some of them and idk you gave me something really interesting to think about ! ! i even ended up writing something for the 95line bcs i was so inspired !!

i chose wine red for cheol (i was so close to picking burgundy lmao), pastel pink for hannie and silver for shua <3 i made some of my irls even read that stuff and they liked it so will it be ok if i share it w you too ? ? i don't mind sending it to you on anon bcs i just wrote that for fun and quite frankly i don't think it's worth stealing anyway lmao ⊙⁠.⁠☉ but yeah !! pls lmk if you'd like to read those bcs this already got so long and i spoke nothing of value here rip,, and oh do you have any emoji anons ? i would like to be 🎐 anon if that's okay ? if not, then that's fine too >:) i hope ur day has been treating you well so far !! <3

hii omg let's talk colours!!

ive never seen someone associate numbers w personalities before (then again i literally know NO ONE else with synaesthesia lmao) but that's really interesting! all i know is that the even numbers are some form of orange/brown/yellow/red for me

i think synaesthesia is So intriguing and when i was a child i didn't even realize it was not normal to see colours for people and words until i told it to others and they were like "wait what, that's not normal" so yeah, im glad it gave you something to think about too!

wine red and burgundy omg you and me 🫶🫶🫶 that really is so close! the jihan colours are also vv interesting,, jeonghan as pink is something i can definitely see haha but for me jeonghan is literally everything colour and also transparent and clear at the same time so

and joshua! i have shua's synaesthesia just sitting in my drafts basically BEGGING for someone to request it bc i. i love his colour so much and it's so strong and even though i can't find any colour on earth that looks like the colour in my head perfectly i still love it so much. i think you'll love it too when i post it bc... again there's a crazy similarity here (but kinda in a different way,,, you'll have to see what i mean later on HAHA)

i would LOVE to see your writing for the 95 line! seeing the reasoning/ the feelings of the colours and how you describe it interests me so much. ive always wanted someone to share colours and reasoning of colours with, so of course!!!

this is such a long answer haha but also yes you can definitely be 🎐anon! i have a couple of named anons i think? but i haven't heard from any of them apart from the first ask they sent me so im not too sure <3

hope you're doing well too!

[milkplusvn]

Soundless AAA & Patreon Survey Results

Tip: You can get posts like this sent directly to your e-mail by subscribing to the Substack!

This’ll be a long one today, so buckle in.

Reimagining CGs Is Fun

First thing’s first: Soundless progress!

I’ve been gradually chipping away at the CGs. I’ve roughly sketched all the ones that appear in the opening. The one I’ve made the most progress on is the one where Auma checks on Mercy after school, and I’m finding it fun to reimagine the CGs and try and upgrade the new CG wherever possible while still maintaining the original intent.

This CG in particular was one of the first ones I ever made for Soundless. According to the properties of one of the variations, it was originally completed in April 2017. The afternoon glow illuminating a heroine in an empty classroom feels so cool, doesn’t it? Even though the technical quality of the original is low, I think it has some of the nicest vibes.

For the new one, I took into account the fact that Mercy is sitting so close to the window and opted to change the angle of the background. This required a little bit of extra thinking on my part; I even made a sketch to guesstimate where Auma might be in relation to where Mercy is looking up from her desk.

Though, in the end, you’ll notice that the angle isn’t the same when you compare it to the sketch. I did it on purpose to make Mercy feel smaller and also have the window be off-center and not engulfing the space behind Auma. I just thought it looked more visually interesting like this.

This week is all CGs. My main goal is to complete all the opening CGs and have a brand new version of the opening ready for everyone by next Sunday at best and next week at the very least.

Art Patch Progress Summary

Sprites

Main Sprites: All complete

Special sprites: Finished

CGs

1/31 completed (4 in progress)

1/5 opening CGs completed (4 in progress, 1 in coloring stage (the one in the post!))

Implementation

All main sprites implemented.

Toggle option implemented

Initial selection screen roughly implemented

You can play Soundless for free with the original art on Itch.io now!

And now…for the survey results

About 15 people total took the survey! That doesn’t seem like a lot, and it’s not surprising since we’re not exactly the biggest studio ever, but just knowing how many people were interested enough to take it was very helpful in the decision-making process.

Let’s break down the infographic by section.

Patron Interaction Perks

Voting power was more popular than Patron Q&A, but both had a fairly high “yes” ratio. I’m not surprised Patron Q&A has a few more “no”s, because hey—what constitutes questions only Patrons can ask, anyways? Our Tumblr even has an ask box. However, it was a feature we’ve seen in other Patreons, and we wanted to see how much interest there was. The fact that 66% of respondents wanted to see it regardless of the lack of details says something: people have questions they’d like to ask if given the chance!

Behind-the-Scenes Perks

First of all, I think it’s just incredible that there was not a single no on the pre-production assets perk. All of the questions save the optional comment section and the merch choice were required, so nobody could’ve skipped it. We’re going to have to see to making a standardized look for concept art so it looks pretty when we share it!

Interestingly enough, early access to devlogs was unpopular at first, but when the survey ended it got many more “yes” votes. It’s definitely going into the perk pile. As for the Patron-only streams, we’re definitely factoring in the high amount of “no”s. I do wonder if people are worried about missing them—Patron-only streams also includes Patron-only VODs!

Other Perks

This one. This one is the one that told me everything on what to do.

Whether NSFW or SFW, monthly images and short stories had a lot of support. We’ll get more into that one when we get to the tier drafts.

The credit name styling depending on tier perk, by the way, got enough “yes” votes that we’re still considering it, but it’s definitely not going to be a selling point here.

Physical Merchandise

The people. Want. Stickers. And mini prints, but not as much as the stickers!

We originally weren’t going to include such a perk, but we looked into Patreon Merch and ultimately decided to give it a shot. Unfortunately, we don’t think we’ll focus hard on this as a selling point either due to the…strange way Patreon Merch works (you’ll see), but we’ve actually already prepared some things to be created for the initial round of merchandise.

Tier Affordability

Canva’s graph didn’t come with a key, so here’s how you read the bar colors:

Green means Very Affordable

Yellow means Somewhat Affordable

Red means Somewhat Unaffordable

Black means Unaffordable

We’ll admit we screwed up a bit writing the questions for this section—adding in a “very” adjective was a little unnecessary and probably influenced some answers. We also probably should have included a question on just what someone’s most affordable tier was to go along with the “can you commit for three months?” question.

Even so, this told us a lot about the financial standing of people who may very well be our initial Patrons. It tracks—the global economy isn’t doing too well—and since we suspected not everyone would be able to afford the super crazy awesome tiers because of this, we wanted to make extra sure so we’re not putting perks people want to see in tiers they can’t even pledge to.

So, What’ll You Do?

Using this data, we have drafted up the tiers and adjusted some of the pricing. We increased the initial tier to $2 (so we’re not getting literal pennies after fees) and reduced the highest tier to $20 (still pretty high, but the extra $5 is a lot for some people). Here are those tier drafts:

Tier 1 ($2)

Exclusive supporter Discord channel access, forever.

Pre-production tidbits and in-depth process posts and speedpaints

2 bi-monthly short stories with accompanying artwork: one spicy, one sweet

Early look at devlog posts

Your name in game credits

Unique-to-tier Discord role and color

Tier 2 ($5)

All prior benefits

Vote for the bi-monthly special art and stories

Patron-only livestreams & VODs

Patron-only Q&A sessions (likely on unreleased/unannounced games—still workshopping this!)

Tier 3 ($10)

All prior benefits

Monthly sticker club (starts 2 months after initial pledge)

Vote on the next sticker

Vote on aspects of a game

Tier 4 ($20)

All prior benefits

Monthly mini print club (starts 2 months after initial pledge)

Vote on the next mini print

Larger section in game credits

These tier drafts are naturally subject to change for the final version. We’re also open to any comments and suggestions at this stage to further refine the tiers.

Why bi-monthly stories and art, not monthly like the survey originally asked?

I considered things for a moment and came to a conclusion: I need to protect my wrist and Cherimoya isn’t always available due to work, so at the start, we’ll be delivering these special side stories & accompanying art on a bi-monthly basis. If we get enough support, we’ll likely upgrade it to monthly since we’ll be able to outsource help at that point.

Sweet AND spicy?!

Yes, we’ll be doing one SFW one and one NSFW one! This may come as a surprise to those who’ve only found us recently, but we’ve actually been planning for spicy content in our games happening eventually for a very long time. POLYCHROMANIA was originally billed with this promise and continues to have it. Of course, due to various terms of service including Substack’s, we can’t share such development freely and it’ll all be locked behind Patreon for the most part. (Cohost is also friendly to adult content, so we’ll post things from time to time on there.)

You are absolutely free to just ignore the NSFW posts if you’re not interested.

What sorts of game content will we be able to vote on?

Patrons can influence things such as little bits of bonus content. We actually already have an idea for something Patrons can vote on for 7388 when we get to that point.

Exclusive supporter access to a Discord channel forever?

We’d like to continue our tradition of allowing those who have supported us once in the special development channel, where we post some unreleased stuff and unrefined development thoughts and progress, forever. While the launch of the Patreon means that there will still be development content that’ll be locked to those actively supporting us monthly (for instance preproduction assets, things for unannounced games, and Patron-only streams), this channel will still be around posting ~secret~ things. (But not too secret.)

I’m in the special channel now. Will we still get our names in the credits without being a Patron, too?

At this time, yes. However, this may be subject to change for logistics reasons depending on how much the Patreon grows. We apologize in advance if this does happen.

Why do we have to wait to get the merch? How is it monthly?

The merchandise will be fulfilled by Patreon’s Merch service. The way said service works is that all Patrons in merch tiers will get their physical rewards after three months’ worth of pledging. We plan on asking Patreon for the specifics on when exactly that happens (on the third month, or after the third month?—our current assumption is on) before launch.

Every month, we’ll add a new sticker & print, then phase out the previous month’s. When you start getting your merchandise, you’ll start with the merchandise from the month you initially pledged in, and then every month you continue pledging you’ll get a new sticker (and print, if you’re in the applicable tier).

This is how we’ve come to understand Patreon’s articles regarding how their Merch service functions. You can read about the Patron side of things in their own words here (link to Patreon Merch help article). We would like to make sure that we’re getting this right, so once again we will be contacting Patreon Support prior to launch to ensure we’ll actually be able to do this with the tools we’re given.

Launch Date

At this time, we plan on launching our Patreon at the beginning of July. The exact date will be announced when we’ve completed preparations.

Once again, thank you all for helping us figure this out. To be level with you all, we needed to start earning more money to keep milk+ visual going and ensure the safety of team members. You’ll remember a few months back, for instance, that our editor Faust was in danger of eviction—we don’t want that to happen to anyone in the milk+ visual family ever again.

We’ll use the money first and foremost to support the three of us financially. Cherimoya and Faust are very kind to volunteer because they’re close to me, but I’d rather pay them both for their time and help, as well as make sure I’ll be okay, too. The future and title release speed of milk+ visual is entirely financially dependent at this point. To focus on making our own visual novels entirely without having to worry about money would be a dream.

As mentioned before, you’re free to leave comments and suggestions about the tiers either on the Substack comments, or in our askbox, or pretty much anywhere else you saw this article posted. See you next week!

[darthmaulification]

Heya darling. I was so happy you responded so quickly to me, it made me super happy 🥰🥰 But you mentioned Maul would be there during your pregnancy and can you just imagine him holding your hair back during your morning sickness and him just rubbing your pregnant belly and him whispering sweet things to the baby 🥺🥺 He would be so soft and adorable-my heart 😭😭

you are so very welcome! 😘🥰💕 i try my best to respond to things speedy quick!

(though my drafts of unanswered asks would beg to differ 😶💀)

and oh my GOD would maul be so so soft with a preggo s/o!!! 🥺🥺 he would be so supportive and caring it'd be almost ridiculous. like AAA imagine him helping you out when it's your first baby (either in general or with him). 🥺

"Morning sickness is a lie." you would grumble because you've been hunched over the toilet since 8 am and now it's nearly 2. maul's been there on and off, only leaving to get you water and small things for you to try and eat (which has only lead to you up-chucking them immediately), and now he's semi-concerned, but says, "It's all part of the experience, my love." and you'd nod, but before you can respond, you’re throwing up again.

"There's nothing even left inside me!" you cry, utterly defeated and near tears, but maul rubs your back and kisses your shoulder and brushes loose strands of your hair behind your ears. “If I could relieve this burden, I would in an instant.” he murmurs and you giggle softly when he nuzzles his face against your neck.

“I know you would.” you sigh, gathering enough strength to turn around and climb into his lap without making yourself dizzy and nauseous. and it’s an effort too, because your tired and your breasts decided to really start aching at that exact moment, and you just melt against maul. he hums, basically cradling you, kissing your shoulder and cheek (for as much as he does want to properly kiss you, you have been vomiting so).

“I would do anything for you, sweet girl.” maul would say against the skin of your neck, and you know he means it.

~

thankfully the morning sickness lets up several months later, but the trade off is you’re left with a bowling ball in your tummy, leaky breasts, and aching joints. and you’re sweaty all the time, and hungry, and sometimes you get mood swings, and you’re also unreasonably horny (which maul isn’t complaining about), and to top it all off, the baby decides to kick up a STORM sometimes.

“Oh! Take it easy on Mama!” you’d say after a particularly hard kick that had you jolting a little bit, attempting to sooth the baby inside you by rubbing your belly. unfortunately, your child is also maul’s, so it decides to kick again, honestly feeling harder than the last time. you groan, the discomfort weighing a bit more than the excitement in this case.

“Be kind to your mother.” maul says from beside you, reaching over to place a firm, but careful hand on your maternal swell. he doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading on a holopad, but he starts to move his hand in slow, rhythmic circles. you sigh, the warmth and weight of his hand soothing against your taut skin. it doesn’t make the baby stop moving, it still squirms inside of your womb like there’s no tomorrow, but it stops kicking so roughly.

“Mm... Your hands are magic, Maul.” you murmur, eyes closed, placing your hand atop his and following the circles he’s making. maul chuckles, “I am one with the Force, dearest.” and his sarcastic answer makes you stick your tongue out at him, but you cuddle up next to him anyways, because now the baby’s apparently taking a rest because it’s stopped doing flips in your belly.

“... Would you like to speak to it?” you ask after a few moments and maul looks over, surprised, and hesitates briefly, but when you shift to sit opposite of him (an ordeal all in itself) he concedes with a quiet, “Of course.” maul sets his hands on either side of your belly, leans in to plant a kiss to your newly-outie belly button, and leaves his lips close to you.

“I cannot wait to meet you, little one. There is not a day that goes by where I don’t think of holding you in my arms, seeing your tiny face, your tiny hands.” maul whispers, rubbing your belly and bringing tears to your eyes. he continues, “I want you to meet your beautiful, wonderful mother. She’s been so strong, carrying you within her womb, and you must feel how much she loves you.” and now you’re crying because pregnancy hormones make you so sensitive and maul makes you so happy, so you blubber, “Maul! I love you so much!” and even though you’re crying and your face is flushed and wet, maul kisses you, swallows your happy sobs and kisses you over and over again.

“I love you.” he replies in between kisses and he pats your belly lightly. “And I love this one too.”

[underworldreaderinserts]

Hi! It's a delight to see someone write for this game, I've been craving content. I was wondering if you could write something for Zagreus and Thanatos in a poly relationship with a dryad reader? If not it's perfectly fine! Thank you for your time, and I cannot wait to see more of your writing. Have a good day

YES you can have Dryad!Reader headcanons for a polyship!! Aaa, I’m so excited to write this out!! I myself am a Nereid, having grown up next to the sea. I’m sorry it took so long, I hope you enjoy it, sweet Anon!!♡ -- Ryan

Note: I did see your followup ask, and I’m sorry I didn’t respond to that to assure you; at the time I figured this had been sitting in my drafts near completion that I’d have it published as an answer to that. However, life kicked my ass recently, so I’d accidentally left you waiting, and I’m sorry about that. I hope this makes up for it!

✧ Being a Dryad, even in the Underworld, you have your own innate, inherent way of exuding vitality. There’s just something so freeing about your nature that has both these Gods drawn to you.

✧ Definitely being the lively, free spirit between two Chthonic boys, though at least one of the two would rise to match your energy.

     ✧ It would be between both you and Zagreus to be there to remind Thanatos to loosen up a little, to take it easy here or there. Not to go overworking himself, and to “live a little”.

          ✧ Granted that last part would be a jab on your part for having experienced life once before, and on Zagreus’s part, for the irony of it being directed at the God of Death.

✧ Convincing Hades to move into the House would be easy, because knowing Zagreus, he’d just smuggle you in regardless of his Father’s wishes.

✧ After this occurs, you get used to your life around the House, finding time between Zagreus’s escape attempts and Thanatos’s absurdly long business trips with a lot of time on your hands.

✧ You become acquainted with the court musician, and find out he has a muse who is also a Dryad, and your piqued curiosity has you itching to meet her.

✧ You meet Nyx, to whom you show deep respect for, and she gives back in kind. Knowing your importance to her son and foster son, she invites you in many conversations to get to know you better, and you form a bond with the Night herself. 

     ✧ She will absolutely and freely share any and all stories of your men from their childhoods proudly, embarrassing or not.

✧ Dusa becomes a true friend, and each time you catch up with her, you make sure you’re helping in some fashion, though she, you, and Meg frequently gather to gossip and chat. It also helps pass the time

     ✧ Meg, who doesn’t care that you’re in relations with Zagreus, but will lay all her grievances on you about him, and how he’s driving her up a wall due to her job. She’ll commend you for Thanatos though, and agrees he’s a catch.

✧ Considering finding time for the three of you together is rare, sometimes days are just you and Thanatos. In which case, he takes the time to be with you, to remind you that you’re part of this relationship. He might get to see Zagreus when he’s out on his business ventures and call it “work”, when he’s back at the house, he can be with you, and also call it “work”.

     ✧ He’ll tell you stories he overhears on the surface, and tell you from his perspective what life feels like, and each time you tell him yours, he feels enriched, and even a bit fortunate to have such a mind to call a lover.

          ✧ He’s very much a slow-paced partner, and would take his time and spend quality time with you in very personal ways. Every action he takes, every thought he shares, every word he says is deliberate and significant. Nothing is superfluous.

          ✧ Nights spent between you and Thanatos are warm, comforting, and sensual.

✧ On the days it’s just with you and Zagreus, it’s a bit more energetic. It’s a refreshing change from moments alone with Thanatos, but one similarity will be that Zagreus also does his part to remind you that you’ve earned every ounce of the love he has for you, just as Thanatos has.

     ✧ Though, times you share with Zagreus would be more daring. Zagreus finds the value in time spent with you if the both of you did something together, something that would stand out in your memories for centuries to come.

          ✧ Whether that’s both of you trying something new for the first time, or teaching each other something the other didn’t know. He would love to bond with you through experience and activity.

          ✧ Or maybe it’s something as extreme as looting the Underworld together (where Thanatos might even find time to join in the raids).

          ✧ Nights spent between you and Zagreus are thrilling, wild, and memorable.

✧ In those rare cases the three of you are together, it’s a very healthy mix of both their styles, and your own. Where after an activity the three of you participate in, you take the time after to digest it, and just bask in the adrenaline, or the mood, or the comfort of each other.

     ✧ There’s an endearing difference between Thanatos and Zagreus that has you in love with them for their own characteristics, their own attributes.

[lookbluesoup]

Helloooooo just wanna know what fics you are working on right now so I can have something to look forward to

Aaa aw dude that means a lot! So glad these could be something to look forward to. ;w; Hope you are doin well, and thanks for asking!

I’m floating between a bunch of fics right now, I’m not sure what will get finished first! I often end up with two or three drafts open at once and jump between them rapid-fire. Sometimes I’ll sit down to write one specifically and end up finishing an entire other fic instead. Yay, surprises!? XD BUT, here’s the ones I’ve been fiddling with the past week or two, that are the most likely contenders:

Kiss Prompts

Nate/Piper as an Apology (Smut), their reunion after he gets shot on the Libertalia and relayed back to the Institute, and she has no news for several days whether he’s okay or not

Nate/Piper as Encouragement, they attend an Upper Stands banquet in order for Piper to snoop on a story, which Nate botches spectacularly

Fics (with some working titles which will probably be changed to something more clever when they’re done xD)

“Nate’s Deflowering” (Smut) - Nora steals Nate’s virginity Nora and Nate enjoy a romantic summer evening and learn some new things about one another

“Lover’s Embrace” (Also… Smut. There’s been a lot of Smut) - Nate and Piper make love for the first time. (I might not post this one though, I’m a bit fragile over it hahaha)

A brief ‘epilogue’ chapter to my Heavens Do Not Fall fic (you can read that fic here!) - of Nate apologizing to Piper the next morning and the two of them just, generally being a bit tender-footed and soft around one another

Snow Day Ch. 2 - more fluff and shenanigans and some ice-skating (or the attempt to ice-skate, anyway xD) (chapter one here!)

The Most Dangerous Game - this one is LONG, longer than anything I’ve posted for them before, and will actually probably not be done for a long time either xD There was an excerpt posted (here!) from it. Nate and Piper go to investigate a missing person’s case and get caught in a game of life and death stakes, based off Richard Connell’s short story by the same title!

I shelved Piper’s run in with the Courser for now to sort of, recover from it haha It’s an important chapter in their story and I’m excited to share the whole thing, but also very emotionally taxing to write because it’s basically Nate’s worst nightmare come back to haunt him. So I have to step back and clear my head every once in a while! EVENTUALLY THOUGH, that one is coming too!!

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION Season 1 ♫ “The World Will Never Be the Same” [ 1.12 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows)

WHILE THE WALLS COME TUMBLING DOWN – The auditions for the coveted summer immersion program unfold. Riley and Lucas attend the Jacobs Arts Gala, while Zay and Charlie make bold choices. Farkle makes a statement, and the sophomore class realizes that in real life, there are no rehearsals.

66 Minutes (18K words) || No warnings apply.

[ ← Before the Storm ] [ S1 Synopsis ] [ Season 2 → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

Cue title sequence.

Over the opening titles, we hear Farkle murmuring to himself and clearly trying to get something in order. As the title sequence fades to black, it seems like he’s got it figured out.

Farkle: Okay. I think – okay. Here goes nothing���

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - DAY

Open on a tight screen, emulating the format of an iPhone video. FARKLE MINKUS is alone in the costume loft for a semblance of privacy, the camera in selfie mode. He’s preparing to record, and clearly a man on a mission.

He appears more polished than we’ve seen yet, back in his sharpest blazer and with his hair neatly coiffed although still somewhat untamed. It’s a complete u-turn from how he was starting to mellow over the course of the season.

When he starts to speak, however, that put together facade quickly loses some of its credibility. As he figures out what he wants to say, he’s a bit manic. He’s himself, but also not quite himself at all. Something is off, but he’s indisputably in a frenzy. That much is certain.

As he starts to speak, the purpose of his video becomes clear – and the fact that he doesn’t necessarily intend it to be meant just for him.

Farkle: Obviously, I don’t want my name on all this, but – I don’t know. I’ll leave it up to you to decide how to lay it all out there. You’re good at that. I’m just recording rather than typing because… [ a breath ] It’s a lot. There’s a lot I have to say. So, without further ado: a conclusive series of explanations as to why Farkle Minkus was robbed of a coveted Kossal audition spot, when he deserves it more than anyone else. And here’s why.

This can’t end well. Farkle is impassioned as he kicks off his rant, and as he shifts focus to each subject of his tirade…

INT. MAYA’S APARTMENT - DAY

… we’ll be following them while his monologue voices over it. He starts off guns blazing with his former best friend, MAYA HART. She’s in the midst of getting ready for school, rehearsing her Kossal audition number as she goes. She’s practicing 24/7 at this point, she may very well be singing in her sleep.

But she’s also obsessive over it. She’ll hate the way one note came out and start the whole thing over from the beginning, becoming increasingly frustrated with herself. Trying incredibly hard to get that vocal power just right.

Farkle: So, let’s get the obvious out of the way. Maya Hart. Sure, Maya has the vocal chops, and she can do runs for days. But is that really deserving of an audition slot on its own merit? When other candidates were clearly as good, if not better? I mean, we’ve all heard me – I mean, Farkle – sing, I think we can attribute that there’s a clear superior performer between the two.

As she grabs her bag and reaches for her phone, she checks her message thread with Farkle. Their conversation has gone totally dry, the two not having exchanged words since the Kossal school-wide picks went up. However, there’s an ongoing message in her chat box, depicting that she’s been drafting a message for a while to send him.

It’s somewhere between a lecture and an apology. Somewhere between being pissed at him for being so selfish and not being happy for her, but also sincerely sorry that he didn’t get the opportunity when she thinks he deserves it too. Not enough to give it up herself, of course, but definitely starlet empathy. More than anything, it’s clear that she wants to talk to him. She wants them to be friends again.

In the end, she deletes it. Opting not to say anything at all.

As she heads out the door, she passes KATY HART, who is at the tiny kitchen table. She’s working with the sewing machine and doing painstaking alterations to Maya’s audition dress, having basically made it herself.

Farkle: So then, why Maya, if their criteria are so similar? Well, one might go for the obvious gender route, but it’s much more likely that the administration felt their scholarship student might need a little bit more of a boost. Yes, that’s right, Maya is on scholarship – insane, considering how terrible her grades are, am I right? But you know, it’s true, nothing is more compelling a support system than sympathy…

Maya gives her a kiss on the cheek as she leaves, thanking her for working on the dress. Katy pats her cheek, sending her on her way.

INT. RILEY’S BEDROOM - DAY

Next up is RILEY MATTHEWS, starting off her day by adjusting pieces of her moodboard. She’s pinning up her honorary invitation to the Jacobs gala – right next to the “you’re better” notes exchange. She lets her gaze linger on both, a smiling brightening her face as she pulls her bag onto her shoulder.

Farkle: Speaking of sympathy, there’s a lot of that at play when it comes to Riley Matthews. Not necessarily towards her – I mean, who needs sympathy when you’ve got so many power players in your court to uplift you whether or not you earned it. Think about it, her father is a teacher, her uncle is counselor and essentially second principal and was, in fact, one of the four on the panel for judging. So of course they’re going to give a spot to Riley, especially given how much dirty work she’s done for them this year…

On her way out, she touches the beautiful lavender evening gown hanging on the back of her door. It’s clear she’s far more excited about the gala than she was before.

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

Focus shifts from Riley to LUCAS FRIAR, not in the technician’s booth but the boys dressing room. It may be the first time he’s ever willingly stepped foot in the space.

He’s in front of the mirror, fumbling with his hair in an attempt to make it look presentable. This is likely the most effort he has ever put into his appearance, and it’s clear he’s not having an easy time of it. No matter how much he fusses with it to make it look neater, he’s not pleased with it.

Farkle: I mean, why else would she put in the effort to befriend jackass Lucas James Friar, other than by special request from her favorite counselor uncle in an attempt to make sure he doesn’t make a hit list or some shit considering he’s so openly pathetic. Riley Matthews doesn’t need sympathy, but she’s sure good at giving it…

A text comes through on his phone, disrupting his stress. It’s from his mother. “Let me know about MC ASAP please. App deadline this weekend.”

Lucas takes this reminder in, glancing at himself in the mirror once again. Still fundamentally dissatisfied. Lots to think about… lots riding on his hair not looking like a mess…

INT. FOSTER HOME - KITCHEN - DAY

For ISADORA DE LA CRUZ, the morning involves dodging her younger foster siblings as she tries to get half a meal in before rushing off to school. TESSA CHAN bumps into her while chasing JULIAN NORTH (12) around the kitchen, causing her to snap at them both.

She grabs her phone before she heads out, checking another text from Riley. It’s clear she’s gotten quite a few from her over the past few days, essentially begging her to take her audition slot for Kossal. An interesting choice…

Farkle: Which explains why of all the people she could be attempting to pawn off her audition slot to, she picks Isadora Smackle. Oh, sorry, I mean De La Cruz. She’s had a rough year, with all her famous mom business coming out, so I guess it makes sense that she deserves one shot to prove she actually can live up to the family business without having to do any work for it. Sucks that it’s so late notice her best friend won’t even be there, as he’ll be too busy on his pity date with Riley. How tragic.

Isadora doesn’t answer, shuffling out the door.

INT. AAA - DANCE STUDIO - DAY

ZAY BABINEAUX is rehearsing his routine for the auditions, clearly having been in the studio for more than an hour or so already. He’s drenched in sweat, shaking his head, his nerves throwing him off. He can only practice it so many times over before it starts to fall apart.

Farkle: I’d mention Zay, but considering he’s always bragging about how he’s so above all the drama, I guess we’ll see how he feels when he’s not mentioned at all. He does claim to be so constantly overlooked, after all.

Zay finishes another round, obviously not happy with it. He collapses into a sitting position, tugging at his hair before hiding his head against his knees. Pushing himself to the brink.

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - DAY

Farkle rounds out the rant, letting out a resounding exhale. Considering how breathlessly he delivered it, it’s amazing he didn’t pass out. He concludes the recording by sharing the same sentiments he declared all the way back at the start of the year – he’s the next big thing, he’s not going anywhere, and this belongs to him. Regardless of what other people have decided or what other factors try to get in his way. And no one should ever damn forget it.

As he ends the recording, the screen returns to normal. Farkle takes a moment to save the video, preparing to send it. After a moment, it becomes clear to whom: AAA Confessions.

He types out a quick message explaining again that he simply recorded the video because there was a lot of content to type, they should put them into separate posts and do whatever with the images, etc. He doesn’t want credit, he just wants these truths known.

A second of hesitation conveys that Farkle isn’t as war-mongering as he seems. While his thumb hovers over the send button, there’s the distinct feeling that he knows this can’t be the right avenue for dealing with things. There’s a part of him who wants to take it back before he even puts it out there.

Yet, he hits send anyway. He releases a huge sigh, exiting out of the private messages and checking the page for himself. It’s been abnormally quiet the last week or so, no new posts present since Wyatt was brought in for questioning. Some are even wondering if the page is dead for good. It’s not clear whether Farkle believes that or not.

While he feels a bit cleansed just to vent all of his frustrations, he doesn’t seem nearly as satisfied as he thought he would be. Something still feels empty.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” as performed by Tears For Fears || Performed by Farkle Minkus

The opening tones of the track trickle in as Farkle makes his way down the ladder of the costume loft, back into the darkened and empty auditorium.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

He launches into the song as he makes his way into the glow from the ghost light at center stage, illuminating him in shadow. In spite of its upbeat vibe, Farkle’s rendition of the song speaks truthfully to the ominous undertones that the lyrics provide.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Farkle continues the solo as he parades through the halls. The school is shifting around them, gearing up for summer. The remnants of sophomore year are tumbling down… nothing ever lasts forever…

As Farkle wraps the track, he saunters backwards and disappears into the crowd of students. Focus shifts to CHARLIE GARDNER instead, heading towards the studio classrooms. He’s carrying a thermos and moving with an impressive amount of enthusiasm for so early in the morning. As he finds the correct studio and steps through the door –

INT. AAA - DANCE STUDIO - DAY

Charlie enters just as Zay is wrapping up another run through of his audition, having managed to pull himself out of a heap on the floor to do it again. Charlie hangs back for a moment to watch, entranced as usual, before he announces his arrival. It totally disrupts Zay’s flow, causing him to jog and turn off the music.

As they get to talking and Charlie asks how it’s going, Zay’s nerves about the audition become more evident. He’s frustrated that he keeps messing up steps, somehow he’s always a couple beats behind or ahead, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. He’s totally wigging out, which he never has before.

Charlie reassures him, placing the thermos on the piano top with Zay’s speaker so that he can grab his shoulders and tell him to get a grip. He’s stressing way too hard for someone so naturally gifted, and there’s no way the judges aren’t going to like whatever he does.

Charlie: I mean, at this point with Riley maybe or maybe not participating and Maya distracted by beefing with Farkle, you could probably walk on that stage and do Teach Me How to Dougie and they’d still pick you.

Zay: It’s just “dougie” – nevermind, I don’t have the energy to explain this to you.

Zay laughs mockingly, not buying it. Charlie claims he’s got a pretty light week, so if it would be useful, he can put in the time to help him rehearse.

Zay: You really don’t have to do that.

Charlie: Nah, it’s cool. I want to.

So now we’re doing things because we want to, huh? Charlie grabs the thermos as Zay gathers his things, handing it to him when they’re back together. He questions it at first, before Charlie goes on to explain that it’s his mother’s chicken soup recipe. It’s basically a certified energizer potion, and he knew he’d been working himself to the bone so he figured he might need it.

Zay: [ after taking a sip ] This is like witchcraft. I thought you Catholics didn’t believe in that nonsense.

Charlie can’t help but laugh, patting Zay on the shoulder as the two of them head to class.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Riley is at her locker, killing time before class but keeping a careful eye out in the halls. She double takes when she spots Lucas leaving the dressing room hall, quickly closing her locker and jogging to catch up to him.

He slows down and turns to look for her when she calls his name, waiting for her to reach him. The two of them keep walking as she greets him enthusiastically, before getting distracted.

Riley: Did you do something new with your hair?

Lucas: What? Oh, no. No, uh, just [ with air quotes ] “woke up like this,” or whatever.

Riley: Oh. Well, it looks nice. You’re still coming on Friday, right?

Lucas: Planning on it. Unless you were thinking – ?

Riley: No! No, no change of plans. Just wanted to confirm. I’ll text you deets later today, Eric is supposed to give me the whole spiel this afternoon.

Lucas: Okay. Cool.

Riley: Cool… yeah. Yeah, cool. Super cool.

Lucas asks if Riley was able to figure out the whole conflict with the Kossal audition. He reiterates that she should go to that if she wants to and shouldn’t even bother with the gala just because she already extended an invitation to him, but she waves him off. She states that she’s working on the fix, but as far as she’s concerned she’s going to the gala – audition resolved or not. So he shouldn’t make any other plans.

As she flutters away, Lucas watches her go. He can’t help but smile a bit before he heads in the other direction.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

Maya is on the front steps with DARBY WINTERS, SARAH CARLSON, and CHAI FRESCO, back to her old throng now that she and Farkle have cut ties. She’s holding court while Darby plays with her hair, trying out some new styles for her upcoming audition. Chai and Sarah are researching makeup palettes, but Maya vetoes everything they come up with. It’s clear she has no idea what her “look” is going to be like, and this is because of the fact that her dress isn’t finished yet.

Chai points out that it’s taking an awfully long time for her to get her aesthetic together, considering the audition is in like three days. Shouldn’t she know her dress by now? Maya manages to redirect, claiming she’s best when she’s working on the fly. The dress is simply taking so long because it’s being custom-made by a New York designer that she has connections with as a favor. She doesn’t want to rush an artist.

Sarah and Darby are impressed and chatter about it, but Chai doesn’t look all that convinced as she goes back to makeup palettes.

Farkle appears at the other end of the hall, locking eyes with Maya when she raises her head from her phone. They hold eye contact for a long moment, but neither of them move to say anything. Farkle heads in the other direction.

Darby pulls her hair too tightly, pulling her out of the moment. She winces and slaps at Darby’s hand, earning a quick apology from her.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

ANGELA MOORE is seated across from JACK HUNTER, the mood bittersweet. She’s finalizing her resignation paperwork.

Jack reminds her that it’s hardly an official goodbye, as he has the paperwork for her part-time position right there on his desk. She laughs anxiously, grateful for his attempt at making this feel less serious than it is. She admits that she mostly just can’t believe that she’s trying her hand at this crazy dream again.

He reaches out and pats her hand, assuring her that she is one of the most talented people he has ever met. She has what it takes, just like any of the students they teach every day. Angela clearly takes the sentiment to heart, squeezing his hand back before releasing a sigh and passing over the signed paperwork. Despite how many times this dreamy drama coach and analytical principal have butt heads, it is clear they hold an unwavering respect for one another.

Jack asks her how the students reacted to the news, revealing that Angela actually hasn’t told them yet. He’s surprised, and urges her to break the news sooner rather than later. She doesn’t want to leave them hanging only to not be there the way they expect next year. She’s hesitant, but she knows he’s right. She doesn’t have any idea how.

Their conversation is interrupted when Lucas shows up in the doorway. Jack expresses surprise, wondering if he forgot a disciplinary meeting or something. Lucas claims he just wants a second to talk, but he gets the vibe from Angela that maybe he’s interrupting something important and can come back later.

Jack waves him off, dismissing Angela warmly and shaking her hand as she gets up to leave. As she passes Lucas in the doorway and he steps inside, she gives him a tight nod. Then she’s gone, leaving the two of them alone.

Lucas nosily asks what is up with Miss Moore, but Jack changes tracks back to the subject at hand and asks him what he stopped by for. Lucas claims it’s sort of a weird request, to which Jack blithely points out that there has never been one conversation between them that has not weirded him out in one way or another.

Lucas: Do you have a suit jacket I could borrow?

Jack, somewhat amused: Considering my typical workplace attire, I’d say yes, I probably have one I can spare. Dare I ask why…?

Lucas: Well, Riley invited me to this gala thing, and it’s supposedly a pretty spiffy to-do or whatever, so…

Jack: Oh, you’re going to the Jacobs gala?

Lucas: Is that a problem?

Jack: No, no. Not at all. Not what I would’ve anticipated if you asked me six months ago, I’ll admit, but certainly not a problem.

Jack goes on to explain that he’ll also be attending, and plans to carpool with Eric and Riley.

Jack: If it would be helpful, I could swing by and pick you up on the way to get them. If that’s something you’d be interested in.

Lucas: Uh, yeah. Yeah, that would be great actually.

Jack: Excellent. Sounds like a plan, then.

Lucas: [ clearly weirded out by the pleasantness of the conversation ] Okay. Great.

Jack: Great.

Lucas blinks at him, then reaches forward and knocks the pen Angela was using off the desktop before rushing out.

Jack: Not every conversation we have has to end with you knocking something over!

Lucas: [ from outside ] Weird!

Jack shakes his head, but he can’t help but smile in amusement. He picks up the pen from the ground, looking over Angela’s paperwork with a sigh.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Everything is falling into place – except one slight detail. Riley chases after Isadora as they make their way to the auditorium, making one last plea for her to take the audition spot on Friday. Despite Riley’s enthusiastic ramblings as to why she should invest in the opportunity, Isadora is highly skeptical. She asks why she doesn’t just give the spot to say, Farkle, since he’s being such a brat about the whole thing anyway.

Riley concedes this point, admitting that she could surely give the slot to any of their classmates. But she wants to give it to Isadora, as she tries to make clear as they enter the auditorium.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

A few of their classmates are already seated in the first few rows, Riley and Isadora some of the earliest to arrive. Riley manages to slide in front of Isadora, walking backwards down the aisle in front of her and trying to get her to listen.

Riley: Izzy, you are talented. So talented. And I know that you don’t believe it, so you’re never going to take the steps to get these opportunities yourself. [ off Isadora’s irritated look ] If you take this one, maybe you’ll see that this is something you were born to do, just as much as the rest of us. Please. Please?

Isadora: [ hesitating, then sighing ] I may have brainstormed a couple of potential numbers in the off-chance that you didn’t let this go –

Riley: Yes! Yes!

Riley claps excitedly and basically skips the rest of the way to their seats, already pulling Isadora into eager conversation about it. So it’s settled – Isadora will be taking the third Kossal audition slot for AAA.

As the rest of the class files in, SHAWN HUNTER takes center stage and works to gather their attention. He gives a brief overview of what the last week of classes is going to look like, discussing their final exams which will involve solo performances or projects of their choice and will be presented to Shawn and Angela only.

While he speaks, Maya waits impatiently in the front and center seat, bouncing her legs and exchanging tense eye contact with him. Finally, Shawn sighs, wrapping up his opening spiel and deferring to Maya who clearly requested permission to take the stage beforehand. She leaps up without hesitation, jogging up onto the stage as Shawn exits.

All eyes on her, Maya claims that in spirit of camaraderie – and also in the search for feedback – she has already prepared her Kossal audition ahead of time and would appreciate if she could give a preview performance. She also makes a subtle dig at Farkle, which is pointed considering her whole number is about to be a rather large “screw you.”

Maya: And just in case anybody had forgotten, I earned my audition. Hopefully, this will remind you all of why.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Diamonds Are Forever” as performed by Sabrina Carpenter || Performed by Maya Hart

A ballsy and banging vocal display, Maya shreds through the pop track with an energy that could only be described as defiant. It’s as impressive as her solo from the pilot and her audition just an episode ago, but it’s alive with something much more raw and intrinsically her. It’s on fire, and that’s a whole other level for Miss Hart.

Still, there’s something about the performance that doesn’t deliver right. Because it’s driven with such a petty edge, it doesn’t quite land. On one of the repetitions of “Money don’t buy class,” she make a very pointed head tilt towards Farkle and they lock eyes. He slouches further in his seat, crossing his arms and looking away.

Circling around her, the light throws her in shadow as we transition…

INT. AUDITION HALL - THEATER - NIGHT

… to Maya’s actual audition, flash forwarding to Friday evening. The lighting is far more dramatic, the auditorium unfamiliar and grandiose. Maya is in her finished audition dress, a killer black number with stunning hair and makeup to match. The stage is backlit behind her and a spotlight shows her in her full diva glory.

In the darkness of the auditorium, a panel of judges lift their gazes, jot notes, etc. They’re shrouded in shadow, and far less reactive and friendly than the familiar faculty judges. It’s impossible to tell what they think of the performance, despite how damningly good it is.

This version of the performance carries us to the end, the angle of the camera lining up so that the fiery mezzo is cast in shadow. Leaving the atmosphere tumultuous, a bit uncertain…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Maya wraps up the number as the piano tinkles out the last couple chords, obviously more emotionally vulnerable than she intended to get. She takes a deep breath, letting out a curt little “thank you” before excusing herself from the stage.

Everyone else hangs in the quiet, not sure how to react or what to say. Farkle watches her disappear into the wings, clenching his jaw.

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

Isadora joins Lucas in the booth, taking a minute to find him. He’s back by his nook, gathering some things to take back to his apartment for the weekend. When he asks what she wants, she begins to explain before getting stuck on another change.

Isadora: [ with a sneer ] What did you do to your hair?

Lucas, embarrassed, fusses it up with his hand and shrugs offhandedly, mumbling an explanation. But Isadora is already past it, explaining that she’ll be auditioning for the Kossal program. When Lucas expresses shock, she elaborates.

Isadora: Riley passed her spot off to me. She said she had some other conflict that she deemed more important.

Lucas: Oh. [ a beat ] Oh…

Isadora is clearly excited about the opportunity, in spite of how aloof she’s attempting to come off. She questions if he’ll be able to help her rehearse, or at least guarantee that he’ll be there. Everything is unfolding so fast, Lucas can hardly keep up.

Isadora: You are going to be there, right? I don’t think I can do this if you’re not there. I know it’s not your scene at all –

Lucas, blankly: I can’t. I have another commitment.

Isadora: Seriously? [ snorting ] What else do you have going on?

Not an unfair comment, but a bit harsh. Lucas gives her a look, and she apologizes quickly before reiterating how important it is to her that he be there. Lucas stares at her, clearly torn. He doesn’t want to let her down…

Lucas: I’ll see what happens. Maybe I can get out of the thing early. Might need a convenient escape route, actually, depending on how things go –

Although Lucas says it all noncommittally and doesn’t sound optimistic, for Isadora it’s as good as a guaranteed yes. Her strength has never been taking tone or verbal cues into consideration, so in her eyes it’s a done deal. He’s going to be there. She can move forward with it because she knows he’ll have her back.

Oh, boy.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - DAY

Farkle is waiting in the hall outside the girls dressing room, nervously checking the AAAC. As it has been for days, it remains dead quiet. As if that doesn’t make his anxiety about the whole thing worse… it’s not clear whether he wants it to update or wants confirmation that it will never post again.

He’s torn from it as Maya emerges from the dressing room, pulled back together but cheeks flushed. She snaps at him, asking what he’s doing hanging around. He straightens up and clears his throat, claiming that she said she wanted feedback before launching into a list of every single imperfection of her performance in a passive-aggressive tirade.

Maya elects to continue ignoring him, brushing her hair out of her face and heading towards the doors to the rest of the school. It’s the dismissal that truly makes Farkle snap.

Farkle: What, do you really think you’re so much better than me all the sudden? Just because of one audition?

Maya: Bye, Farkle.

Farkle: As if the only reason you have this spot over me isn’t because of charity?

Maya freezes, totally hit by that comment. It knocks at the one insecurity Farkle knows she has, that she’s been desperately trying to keep a secret for so long.

She whips around, marching back over to him and getting right in his face. The intensity of the movement startles him, causing him to fumble back against the wall before he manages to regain his composure and match her glare. Maya claps back at him for his terrible attitude, lamenting how horrible of a friend he is. Her words are sharp, but not necessarily untrue.

Maya: Yeah, maybe I don’t have any money. Maybe I can’t afford to come to this school or dress the part without a little bit of help. And if people knew, maybe that’s all they’d see. But at least I have respect. At least I’m not so consumed with inferiority that I have to turn on people the moment they prove themselves an actual talent. At least I have friends.

[ Farkle clearly doesn’t know what to say. He swallows, jutting out his chin. ]

Maya: [ looking him over ] Well, one less friend, now. But that’s nothing.

Farkle absorbs the blow, hanging back as Maya storms off. She wipes a couple of tears from her eyes as she pushes through the doors in a huff, but he doesn’t see them.

He waits until she’s long gone to deflate, falling back against the wall before sliding down and crumbling into a crouch. He tucks his head against his knees, like he’s trying to disappear.

As the contrastingly upbeat tones of Zay’s rehearsal track fade in…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “The Greatest” as performed by Sia || Instrumental

Thursday. One day left before the auditions.

Zay and Charlie are rehearsing his number together, the latter having picked it up surprisingly fast. They both perform the choreography with equal vigor, side-by-side on the stage and helping one another keep the pace. It’s a lot of fun to watch them dance it, each of them bringing their own little touches to the moves but also maintaining perfect sync – but it’s somewhat telling that Charlie seems to be outshining Zay. He’s loose, uninhibited, whereas Zay is stiff. Too in his head. Truly a role reversal.

Nearing the end of the routine, Zay steals a glance at Charlie to see how he’s faring. This throws off his precarious hold on the choreography entirely, causing him to stumble and trip right into Charlie. The two of them collapse in a heap with a resounding cuss from Zay and a yelp from Charlie, landing on the stage with a pointed thud.

Charlie slams onto his back and Zay fumbles on top of him, immediately apologizing and trying to check them both for serious injury.

Zay: Man, I’m so sorry. I know you’d offered to help, but I don’t think that involved breaking your limbs. Are you okay?

It’s hard to say. Charlie seems just about brain dead, mouth parted open as he tries to catch his breath and staring at Zay hovering over him. For a tense moment, it seems as though he might say something… perhaps might do something…

Charlie: [ clearing his throat ] Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.

They disentangle themselves, Charlie wincing as he pushes himself into a sitting position. Zay blithely points out that that impromptu ending is exactly how his prospects feel at the moment, like they’re going to crash and burn any second.

Charlie watches him for a long moment, then explains that he still thinks Zay’s form is too strict. Ironic, considering he’s never had an issue with that before. He tries to figure out why Zay is putting so much stake into this whole thing – he’s never seemed too bugged by auditions in the past – but Zay redirects and asks why Charlie didn’t bother to audition. He knows he’s going through some stuff right now, but so is he. So is everyone. Charlie shrugs it off.

Charlie: It’s not a big deal. I’m just a supporting player, you know.

Zay: No, you’re not. How many times do I have to tell you that you’re just as talented as the rest of us? Especially given that you just danced my own routine better than I did.

[ Charlie huffs out a laugh, dipping his head down and looking at the floor. ]

Zay: You’re some of the best we’ve got… when you let yourself be seen.

Charlie locks eyes with him, letting the sentiment sink in. Then he shrugs again, pointing out that he has a major family obligation the same evening as the district-wide ones anyway. It didn’t seem worth the stress. Zay is a bit put off by this reveal, as he sort of hoped that Charlie was going to be there to see him audition.

It’s evident Charlie didn’t even realize that was something Zay would want. He starts to try and come up with a solution but Zay waves him off, assuring him that it’s no big deal. And good thing, because Charlie doesn’t have any simple fixes to his scheduling dilemma. Unfortunate.

INT. AAA - TEACHER’S LOUNGE - DAY

Angela is with Shawn in the teacher’s lounge, lamenting how she doesn’t know how the hell she is going to tell the students that she’s leaving. Shawn points out that she’s only got two class periods left considering she won’t be here for the last three days next week, so she better figure it out lest she leave them scarred upon their last week of sophomore year.

Teasing aside, Shawn basically dishes out the same advice she is constantly giving all of their students. That if this is truly important to her, then she should just talk from the heart and the message will come through. Or you know, whatever.

It sounds like he’s got the right idea. Angela nods, smiling lightly and leaning forward to give him a light kiss.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

All of the students are assembled for class, discussing the end of the year. Maya asks Zay how he’s doing in preparing for his audition, which he does not want to talk about. Charlie speaks up and claims that Zay is going to do great, which Farkle – seated by himself a couple rows away and isolated – states must be true, because it would be super difficult to do worse than Maya.

Before she can fire back, Riley begs all of them to stop the stupid bickering. The techies nod in agreement, Lucas piping up from next to Riley.

Lucas: It was so nice when you all were tolerable for like two months there.

Maya: Oh, as opposed to you who has been tolerable… never?

Angela interrupts the cat fights as she kicks up class, stating that she needs to share a major announcement with them. All of the students, particularly the performers, perk up and give her their undivided attention.

It’s hard to speak with all of them looking up at her so trustingly. She glances to Shawn in the row behind the techies, who gives her an encouraging nod. She takes a deep breath, going on to explain that she’s been offered a role in an off-Broadway production. She allows a pause for them to break into excited chatter, applauding and congratulating her enthusiastically.

Then she takes the reins again, voice a little shakier as she continues with the fact that she will be stepping down from her position as performance coach at AAA and thusly, as their instructor. She intends to stay on faculty part-time, so it’s not a total goodbye, but there will be a new teacher coming into the role next fall.

All of the students are surprised. The performers are stunned speechless, especially the divas. Farkle looks absolutely shattered, jaw hanging open and expression blank.

Angela pauses, gathering her composure before getting out one last sentiment. It may be the most important speech she thinks she’ll ever make.

Angela: When I first started at this school, I felt it beneath me. It felt like something to do to pass the time, an unwelcome detour on my personal trip to the top. I thought that there was nothing for me to gain out of this place other than a paycheck and a way to get my parents off my back. I have never been happier to be wrong. [ a beat ] There are things I’ve learned here and experienced here that I would never find anywhere else. About passion, showmanship, collaboration, compromise. The joy of seeing all of you so brimming with talent and ready to share it with one another, with the world, that it reminded me how to find my own again. So even though this isn’t goodbye, I want it to be clear that you will always be one of my most important stops.

Lastly, she wants to give back to them one of the many countless moving, brilliant, impassioned performances they’ve given her over the past couple years. Without further ado…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “What I Did For Love” as performed by A Chorus Line Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Angela Moore (feat. AAA Sophomores)

Angela starts the classic Broadway tune off softly, still emotional and not sure she’ll be able to make it through without losing her resolve. But as she looks out at the faces of her students – proud, sentimental, in shock – she manages the power to keep going.

As it progresses, the students begin getting up from the seats and jogging to join their teacher on the stage. Even the techies make their way up to join the group, hanging back to allow the performers to have their moment but paying their respects to Angela all the same.

Angela shares a small moment with each of the performing students, giving them hugs and hand shakes and soft smiles. She gives Charlie a hug and then ruffles his hair. Zay is given a warm hug, and Maya gives her a little cheeky bow once they pull apart.

Farkle is the last to receive his goodbye, choked up as he accepts her embrace. When he hugs her back, it’s clear that he’s holding on for dear life. He lingers longer than anyone else, not wanting to let go.

As the number draws to a close, Angela hangs in the moment harmonizing with her beloved students. They stand in a close circle with the techies hanging back and watching respectfully. The camera eases out and disappears into the dark of the wings, leaving them in peace…

INT. FOSTER HOME - ISADORA’S ROOM - NIGHT

Isadora is attempting to practice for the audition tomorrow, but she can hardly hear herself think let alone rehearse. CATHERINA GONZALEZ is pacing and chatting loudly on her phone with a friend, and the younger siblings are causing chaos just outside the door.

The situation is unbearable. Desperate for a change of scenery, Isadora heads into the hall.

INT. FOSTER HOME - ENTRYWAY - NIGHT

Isadora is already gearing up to head out, phone pressed to her ear. She’s impatient as she heads down the stairs, letting out a curse under her breath.

Isadora: Come on, pick up –

She frowns, pulling her phone back into her hand. It’s clear that she’s trying to call Riley, but the line is coming back as busy.

INT. RILEY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

That’s because Riley is already on the phone. She’s pacing her room, unable to stay still as she converses with Lucas on the other end of the line. She’s giving him all of the last minute details for tomorrow evening.

INT/EXT. LUCAS’S BEDROOM / LUCAS’S FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

Lucas is cooped up on his fire escape, listening intently to everything Riley says. She asks if he’s sure he wants to come along, and he assures her that he’s not going to bail on her now. She checks to see if there’s anything else they need to work out, or if there’s anything she should know about before tomorrow.

There’s a beat of hesitation, where it is clear Lucas is thinking about Isadora. But he opts not to get into it, stating he’s all good and that he’s looking forward to it. Riley returns the sentiment, both of them bashful as they hang up.

INT. FOSTER HOME - ENTRYWAY - NIGHT

Left hanging, Isadora is forced to go to her next best option. There’s a moment of uncertainty as she scrolls through contacts, hovering over one name in particular. This person has been helpful and harmful in the past, but at present it feels like the only chance she has…

She hits dial, raising her phone to her ear once again.

INT. MAYA’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Maya escorts Isadora into her cramped apartment, not bothering to be shy about it considering Isadora is already aware of her scholarship status. Maya makes a point of introducing Isadora to Katy, who is hunched over the sewing machine and doing the finishing touches on Maya’s audition dress. Isadora explains that they’ve met before through the diner, but Katy happily greets her anyway and claims it’s nice to see her again.

Katy informs Maya that she thinks she’s just about done, lifting the gown so that she can see. Maya is elated and incredibly grateful, running up to marvel over it and holding up against herself. She gives her mother a kiss on the cheek and showers her in thank yous, Isadora watching the warm exchange with mild interest. Such familiarity between mother and daughter is obviously new to her.

Then Maya pulls Isadora further into the space, gearing up to get some practice in as promised. Maya is already monologuing about how they can perform for one another and give each other notes, but it is evident that Isadora is simply happy to have any assistance at all.

INT. MINKUS HOME - NIGHT

Family dinner is on again at the Minkus house, this one even more lively as EZEKIEL MINKUS (20) has returned home from his first year of college for the summer. Undoubtedly the golden child of the Minkus clan, Ezekiel exudes easygoing confidence and soft temperament that not many of the other Minki possess. He mellows the room just with his presence, and it is no wonder that he is Farkle’s favorite sibling.

He holds court as dinner progresses, detailing all of the adventures of his freshman year to his captive audience. JENNIFER MINKUS listens appreciatively and EZRA MINKUS reacts accordingly in between stabbing at his peas, but none of them are as enraptured by the seemingly charmed promises of friendship, fun, and belonging of university life as Farkle. He’s giving Ezekiel his rapt attention, his food long forgotten on his plate.

LILA MINKUS looks less impressed by her older brother’s bragging. She stabs at her food and keeps her head down, URI MINKUS similarly not paying much attention and waiting for the chance to ask to be excused. In fact, he does so, but Jennifer shoots him down and berates him for trying to rush off so quickly when even more of their family is present than usual. He’ll be able to retreat to his bedroom and block them all out again soon enough, so he can wait a few minutes longer.

Jennifer asks Farkle if he’s looking forward to his last week of classes. He shrugs, claiming that nothing exciting is going on and that his favorite teacher just announced that she’s leaving. The family empathizes, particularly Ezekiel. He recommends that Farkle make the effort to make sure that teacher knows how much she impacted him as her student.

Ezekiel: Considering your admiration is bold enough to state she’s your favorite, I think you’ll want her to know. People only know how much they mean to you if you let them know, as connections are only as meaningful as the effort you put into them. Coming off my first year away, I feel like I know that better than anything.

Lila subtly rolls her eyes at the usual golden brother antics, but Farkle actually seems to be listening. He chews on the notion as the conversation shifts off of him and back to Ezekiel.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Friday morning has finally arrived. As if to commemorate the excitement, AAA Confessions reboots itself with its first post in days. Farkle gets a wave of panic when he sees the notification that they have posted on his phone, immediately going to the app to check it.

It’s nothing major – in fact, it’s hardly a post at all. There’s a blank photo, the caption seemingly celebrating how close they are to the end of the year. “Fear not, AAA starlets. The grand finale is nearly upon us.”

Farkle heaves a sigh of relief. He’s growing to dread the moment that his earlier submission might see the light of day. So long as the page isn’t discussing him or his friends, he figures he’s in the clear.

He shuts his locker, scurrying off to class.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Zay is painstakingly running through his routine one more time, Charlie watching intently. He claps out the beats for him, pacing. When he sticks his landing, at least without falling this time, Charlie transitions his timekeeping into actual applause. He tells him that he’s doing a great job and it came together – it is him, after all. Would be hard for it not to be great.

Zay does not seem convinced. He’s still alight with anxious energy, but he takes the compliment anyway. Not like he has much time left anyway. Charlie lets his gaze linger on him for a few moments, then decides to speak.

Charlie: Can I be brutally honest?

Zay: You? If you think you can.

Charlie: [ laughing, then pausing ] … I think you’re relying too heavily on your dance ability.

There’s a long pause. Then Zay raises a finger at him, trying to silence him.

Zay: You shut your mouth.

Charlie hastens to explain his perspective, pointing out that Zay is a brilliant dancer. Certainly one of the best they’ve got. But he’s an awesome vocalist too, and this audition he’s crafted doesn’t speak to any of that. He’s putting himself in a box when he’s far too dynamic for that. He’s hiding behind his dancing, and if he really wants to make an impression for Kossal he should just forgo all of the pizazz and glitz and tricks and just perform. Give them something from the soul, because Charlie knows he’s not short on that. Just stand there, sing, and show them how indisputably talented he is.

It’s a nice sentiment, and honestly holds quite a bit of truth. But with the audition looming so close and his nerves already shot, Zay is not in the headspace to hear it. He snaps at Charlie instead, telling him that he’s wrong and he thinks he should just leave him alone. He wants to get another practice in before class.

Reluctantly, Charlie obliges. He wishes him luck that evening, assuring him that he’ll give it his best before disappearing into the wings. Zay waits until he’s gone then exhales a sigh, kicking at his duffle bag and rubbing his face. As the bell rings –

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Angela is in her classroom as the week comes to an end, finishing up boxing up her things. She stands for a moment in the nearly empty classroom, wondering how much it will change next year in her absence. Soaking up the memory of it before she bids it farewell.

Farkle comes by, knocking lightly on the door and asking if she has a second. She welcomes him in happily, stating that she figured he would come around at some point. But she warns him playfully that he’s not going to be able to change her mind on this, so there’s no point in kicking off one of his infamous arguments.

He raises his hands in surrender, pointing out that what she’s about to do sounds like the dream. He would never try to convince her otherwise. He saunters further into the room, stuffing his hands in his pockets and nudging her into conversation about how she’s feeling about the change. It must feel crazy, having made it after struggling so long for her shot.

Angela pauses, thinking about it. She comes around from behind her desk, speaking plainly with him and being completely candid. She explains that it feels more meaningful now than it would’ve back then, she thinks.

Farkle: Why?

Angela: Believe it or not, the goal itself isn’t everything. There’s such a difference in accomplishing something you’ve worked so hard for and then being able to turn to someone you love and share in that moment with them. Now that I have people in my corner and didn’t just drop them in pursuit of it all, the strides I’m making feel so much more… real. You know? In some ways, I have to wonder if my approach to it the first time was what ended up fucking me over.

[ Farkle takes this in. Angela gives him a smile, lightly touching his shoulder. ]

Angela: The dream is all-consuming. It’s true… but there has to be room for other things, too. There has to be, otherwise it’s just… empty.

This strikes Farkle in a way he wasn’t expecting. She squeezes his shoulder before getting to her feet, focusing back on packing her things.

EXT. NEW YORK - NIGHT

Night falls over the city as the most important evening of sophomore year looms closer. As the night comes to life, the auditionees prepare for their debut.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - NIGHT

Zay descends from the second floor of his house, dressed comfortably but fashionably and ready to make an impression. DONNA BABINEAUX, OMAR BABINEAUX, and JADA BABINEAUX all applaud him as he comes down the stairs, a bit sarcastic but also genuinely proud.

Jada begins nitpicking his outfit as Omar grabs the car keys. Donna gives her son a kiss on the cheek before ushering him out the door, wishing him luck.

INT. MAYA’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Maya does the finishing touches on her makeup in the mirror on the wall, looking like a total knockout in her long black dress. Her mother completes the look by handing her a faux fur coat, classic yet statement-making at the same time. After she dons it she gives Katy a tight hug, accepting a kiss on the top of the head before she breezes out the door.

INT. FOSTER HOME - ENTRYWAY - NIGHT

BLUE NGUYEN is waiting around in the entryway, tossing his keys impatiently. He raises his eyebrows as Isadora descends the stairs with BEATRIX TORRES and Tessa, the two of them having helped her piece together an ensemble and look for the event. Rather than a gown or glamour approach like her fellow auditionees, Isadora is sporting a look that feels more true to who she is, just with the volume turned up – plaid statement pants, a cropped dark top, and of course the classic combat boots. She looks bold, potentially a star in the making – if she can manage to come out of her shell.

As she’s heading out the door, she crafts a text to Lucas to see if he’s on his way or not.

INT. LUCAS’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

The message goes unread, Lucas far too distracted in nitpicking his own appearance. He’s trying his best to feel comfortable in the borrowed suit jacket, unable to decide between tucking in his shirt or leaving it be and resisting the urge to mess up his combed hair. He looks more put together than he has… probably in his entire life. Scrutinizing his reflection in the glass of his balcony window rather than a mirror probably isn’t helping.

He’s pulled out of his self-deprecation when he sees Jack’s car pull up by the curb below. Lucas grabs his phone and gala ticket, stuffing them into his pocket and darting out the door.

EXT. AUDITION HALL - NIGHT

The three auditionees pull up around the same time, Maya emerging from her cab as the other two hop out of their family vehicles. They all size one another up, exchanging cordial head nods and lingering in the peace for a moment as their drivers pull away.

Then it’s a mad dash for the building, all three racing up the steps in a break-neck battle to decide the order of who will be performing when.

INT. AUDITION HALL - ENTRANCE - NIGHT

Maya’s heels click against the floor as they race through the lobby, capturing the same energy as Maya, Farkle, and Zay scrapping to take center stage back on the first day of classes.

Zay makes it to the check-in table first considering he’s not in a dress or heels. He slides up to the sign-in depot and introduces himself breathlessly, triumphant as the check-in person gives him his choice of AAA slots. He opts for the final of the three, tossing a grin to Maya and Isadora as they sidle up behind him. He gestures for them to step up, bowing cheekily before leisurely making his way to the dressing room.

Zay: All yours, ladies.

Maya makes a face at him, before exchanging a look with Isadora. She defers to her, allowing her to choose next seeing as it doesn’t matter much now. Isadora takes the middle slot, giving Maya first string. The check-in person jots this down, giving them general directions to the dressing rooms and theater.

Isadora: [ after Maya marches off ] Sorry about… all that.

Check-In: It’s okay, you’re all like this. We’re used to it.

INT. ERIC’S APARTMENT BUILDING - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Ratatouille Main Theme” as performed by Michael Giacchino || Instrumental

Eric eagerly lets in Jack and Lucas as they arrive, explaining that Riley is still upstairs in his apartment but should be down any minute and then they’ll be good to go. Eric cheerfully tells Lucas that it’s nice to see him joining them, and he’s like… yeah, okay.

Lucas zones out as Jack and Eric begin discussing the technicalities of the evening and sharing administrator gossip, only getting pulled back into the present when Jack makes an out of place exclamation. He gives him a funny look, following his gaze to try and figure out what prompted the declaration of surprise.

The moment Lucas looks over his shoulder and sees Riley descending the stairs, it’s as if the whole world stops. He stops breathing. She looks like certified royalty, with her flowy lavender dress and hair pulled back so intricately and her sheer shoulder wrap. She locks eyes with him and immediately smiles, holding his gaze the entire way down.

When she makes it to the main floor and joins them, she gives the group of them a bashful smile. Lucas can’t even look at her, staring at the floor and swallowing.

Riley: I hope I didn’t keep you all waiting too long.

Jack: Oh, please, it’s nothing. Believe me, your uncle has taken longer.

Eric: Oh, hardy har har. You’re hilarious.

As Jack and Eric settle into bickering, Riley turns her attention to Lucas. She lightly touches his arm, waiting for him to meet her eyes.

Riley, softly: You look good.

Lucas, stammering: Pfft, I mean, me? [ scoffing ] Okay…

In whatever unintelligible language Lucas speaks, this is likely a compliment of some kind. Luckily, Riley is learning to be fluent in that dialect, so she accepts the sentiment with a smile.

Eric rallies the troops.

Eric: We best get going or we’re going to be late, and Haverford is going to have something to say about it.

Jack: Always do when it comes to us.

Eric: Precisely. Let’s go, then, team! Roll out!

INT. CHARLIE’S CHURCH - NIGHT

The church springfest dinner is in full swing, lots of families in their Sunday best on a Friday night and mingling together. ELEANOR GARDNER is clearly having the time of her life, humoring her colleagues and fielding compliments from all the planning she did for the event.

Charlie is hanging out by one of the food tables with ROSAMUND GARDNER, watching her gorge on carrot sticks as she complains about how bored she is. He assures they all have places they’d rather be, but it’s important to mom that they’re there. She rolls her eyes, stuffing another carrot into her mouth and crunching it pointedly.

As Rosamund gets dragged away by friends, Charlie receives a text message. It’s from Zay, letting him know that he secured the closing slot. Despite his confident demeanor earlier, however, his next couple of messages convey that he’s still fretting over the performance and might be spiraling a little bit.

Charlie drops the celery stick he was chewing on and focuses on a text back, reminding Zay not to panic and to lean into what he’s good at. Do what he’s always telling him, feel it and not overthink. He hits send just as AMBROSE GARDNER saunters over, curiously asking who he’s texting.

Ambrose: Must be serious business. You’ve got quite the look of concentration on.

Charlie: Oh, it’s just uh… Riley. My friend. You remember her, from the winter showcase?

Ambrose: Oh, sure.

Charlie: Yeah. Yeah, she just needed homework help. Last minute.

Ambrose: With two and half days of school left?

Charlie: … well, yeah. That’s why it’s serious business.

Ambrose doesn’t question it, helping himself to a snack from the vegetable tray. Tentatively, Charlie broaches the query of whether it would be at all possible for him to leave a bit early. Like, just a tiny bit. His dad is intrigued and not immediately opposed, so Charlie goes on to explain that there’s this major performance thing going on for his friends at AAA, and he’d really like to be there if he could.

Ambrose contemplates this, taking his time as he chews his celery. Charlie is holding his breath.

Ambrose: Suppose we can see how this function is unfolding by then. What time are you thinking?

Charlie nods, relieved that it’s not a definitive no. This holds promise.

INT. JACOBS ARTS GALA - LOBBY - NIGHT

The Jacobs Arts Gala is in full swing, and it is certainly a fancy shindig. It was bound to be, because theater nerds love to dress up and pretend they’re important and glamorous. Students and administrators from all over the tri-state area weave their way through the crowds in their best formal wear, heading towards the ballroom where the main ceremonies are unfolding.

Lucas is standing in the midst of this crowd, sticking out like a sore thumb simply because of how overwhelmed he looks. He stares up at the glitz and awe of the fancy setting and even fancier guests, shaking his head lightly.

Lucas, under his breath: Lucas Friar, what have you gotten yourself into…

INT. JACOBS ARTS GALA - BALLROOM - NIGHT

On the small stage at the front, a swing band keeps the evening going with music as students from the different schools step up and perform selections. Currently on stage is BRANDON RIVAS (16), a sharp-featured and suave sophomore from AAA’s rival, Haverford Prep. He snaps as the band counts him in…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Fly Me To The Moon (In Other Words)” as performed by Frank Sinatra || Performed by Brandon Rivas (of Haverford Prep)

Brandon’s silky smooth vocals take on the Sinatra classic as it floats over the assembled crowd.

Riley is running through the paces of playing student representative, introducing herself to all the important figures. This includes none other than MICHAEL JACOBS, who saunters up to greet her cheerfully. Not struck with nearly the same mythic knowledge of him as her classmates, Riley is able to maintain her cool as she shakes hands with him. She assures him that she’s heard only good things about him, which he seems tickled by.

When he informs her that he’s looking forward to hearing her performance this evening, it’s evident that she has no idea what he’s talking about. Eric slides up and interrupts, laughing and thanking Mr. Jacobs before excusing both them and pulling Riley to the side.

Eric tells her not to panic, but what he neglected to mention to her is that typically, each student representative is slated to perform a song during the ceremonies (i.e. like Brandon). Riley freaks.

Riley: What? I’m sorry, I’m supposed to do what?

Eric: I knew if I told you ahead of time, you’d freak out and potentially not accept the invitation.

Riley: UH-HUH?

Eric: Listen, listen to me, niche. You will be fine. You’ll be fine! You’re best when you’re working on your feet anyway. Just go with your gut. [ off her stunned expression ] Now… go! Enjoy the party! Ha ha.

Riley scoffs, stomping off and muttering to herself as she disappears into the crowd. Eric cringes to himself, watching her go as Jack approaches from behind carrying two flutes of champagne.

Jack: Looks like that went well.

He hands Eric one of the flutes, proposing a toast to the two of them. Sure, it’s been a hell of a year, but they survived it. Didn’t they? The school came together, their biggest adversary seems to have gone into hibernation for good… not too shabby for an analytical principal and his overly involved head counselor.

Eric will definitely drink to that. They raise their glasses, knocking them together with a clink.

Riley has managed to find Lucas, the two of them surveying the dessert table out on display. It’s an assortment of pretty typical yet gourmet desserts, even more intimidating just from how fancifully they’re designed. Riley gestures for Lucas to take one and he shakes his head, keeping his hands clasped together in front of him.

Lucas: No. Mm mm. Don’t trust that.

Riley: What? Why?

Lucas: Doesn’t look like real food.

Riley: [ with a laugh ] What, just because it’s not the staling Oreos in the bottom of your stash in the booth, it’s not real food?

Lucas still refuses, and Riley rolls her eyes. She claims he’s being silly – how is he supposed to know if he doesn’t like something if he won’t give it a chance? He claims he has all the expertise necessary to know not to trust something, but she ignores his rebuttal. Instead, she chooses one of the little pastries and holds it up for him. Patiently waiting, as if she’s going to feed it to him.

He stares at it, then her.

Lucas: I have two hands.

Riley: Well, you’re not using them, are you?

She holds it up indicatively again, raising her eyebrows. Lucas eyes her suspiciously, slowly leaning forward and allowing her to pop it into his mouth.

As it turns out, the pastry isn’t so bad. Lucas chews it thoughtfully while Riley watches in amusement, waiting for the victory of being right in this scenario. She’s startled when a woman taps her on the shoulder, coming over to introduce herself and catching Riley by surprise.

She introduces herself as EVELYN RAND (50s), prominent school board member and Jacobs patron, overseeing the district from Haverford to AAA. She’s heard many good things about Riley, and so she’s been eager to get to meet her. Riley seems genuinely flattered by the notion, the two of them exchanging further niceties.

Evelyn catches sight of Lucas still loitering behind them, calling out to him and gesturing for him to join them. He sheepishly saunters up next to Riley, shaking the hand Evelyn offers him.

Evelyn: Are you a representative as well?

Lucas: Oh, no, I’m uh – I’m just the plus one.

Riley: He might as well be. Lucas is our best student technician at Adams. He can do anything.

Evelyn: Is that so? Yet here you are, Miss Student Representative.

Lucas: Well, she’s the best we have to offer.

Riley locks eyes with him, a soft moment passing between them. Evelyn watches interestedly, raising her eyebrows. Then Lucas backs off, clearing his throat and claiming it was nice to meet Evelyn before sidling back over to the dessert table.

Evelyn watches him go with a twinkle in her eyes, turning her smile back to Riley as she claims she better keep making the rounds. But she emphasizes how nice it was to meet her, and that she cannot wait to see what all of them at AAA accomplish in the next few years. Before she goes, she leans forward to whisper conspiratorially.

Evelyn: [ re: Lucas, approvingly ] He’s cute.

Evelyn gives her a wink, patting her arm and then fluttering back into the crowd. Riley takes a second to catch up to her commentary, a bit caught off-guard but suddenly thinking on the matter. She turns around to look at Lucas again… who is in the process of stuffing another pastry into his mouth. Considering his former indignation, it’s damn charming.

Lucas pauses when he catches her looking, caught. He rolls his eyes, giving her a subtle thumbs up to give her the victory and acknowledge that she was right. Riley can’t help but laugh, and she definitely can’t help but agree with Evelyn’s assessment.

Brandon wraps up his Sinatra impression with a flourish, the orchestra bringing it on home.

INT. AUDITION HALL - THEATER - NIGHT

Isadora is pacing in the wings, about to go on for her audition. She’s pushing it until the last possible second, checking her phone obsessively for a text from Lucas. No such luck.

Maya comes up behind her, informing her that she really needs to go on at this point. Isadora doesn’t look at her, but she ventures the question they both know she’s wondering.

Isadora: Is he here?

Maya, hesitantly: … not that I could see. No.

Isadora steels her gaze, growing more closed off as she stuffs her phone into the pocket of her dress. Maya tries to comfort her, but she brushes her off. She marches onto the stage before she can talk herself out of it.

She squints as she steps into the spotlight, searching for the judges but unable to see anything through the brightness of the lights. In some ways, she supposes that’s better. Easier to pretend that her best friend didn’t neglect to show up on the one night she needs him most if she can’t see the evidence of it.

Once prompted, Isadora introduces herself boldly. Then, she starts to sing.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Here - 2 A.M. Version” as performed by Alessia Cara || Performed by Isadora Smackle

As the mellow chords float in, Isadora lets her emotions pour out through the lyrics. The spotlight is on her on the dark stage, no theatrics, just her standing with a microphone. That’s all she needs. She’s bitter, frustrated, overwhelmed, and so over this whole night.

But that makes the performance all the more endearing. Whilst wrapped up in how she’s feeling, Isadora seems to forget that she’s performing in front of a judging panel and audience, and this is the best we’ve ever heard her sing. Her voice is powerful, and it fills the theater as everyone watches in silence.

As the song goes on, Isadora remembers flashes of the past year when she’s felt isolated: trying to rehearse with the performers for Les Mis but not fitting in, seeing Riley and Lucas dancing together and walking away, being in a room full of her siblings being loud and playing games where she’s sitting in silence with a blank look on her face.

Her voice gets louder and more powerful, and she finishes the song with tears of anger spilling from her eyes. She’s done hiding who she is, trying to mold herself to how people expect her to be. She’s not a techie, she’s not a performer – she’s Isadora freakin’ De La Cruz, and she’ll do whatever the hell she wants.

And right now she wants to get out of this theatre. She storms off stage, shoves the microphone to one of the stagehands, and heads out. Zay and Maya go to congratulate her on her performance, but she ignores them. She’s figuring out who she is in a world where she can’t depend on Lucas anymore, the one person she thought would always be there for her.

INT. MINKUS HOME - NIGHT

Despite everyone else’s busy Friday evening, Farkle is wasting away an anticlimactic evening at home. He’s in the living area helping Ezra with homework, but he’s hardly much help. His mind is elsewhere, zoning out of the conversation. He’s also fidgety, restless, and can’t much focus on anything at all.

Ezra complains about all of these facts, indignantly claiming that Farkle isn’t acting like himself. Jennifer calls him back to get ready for bed, freeing Farkle from any further accusations.

Ezekiel is reading a book on the far end of the couch, but he observed the exchange pointedly enough. He stretches his foot out and pokes at Farkle’s arm, getting his attention as he grimaces and swats his socked foot away from him. Ezekiel asks him if he’s okay, which he shrugs off, but he does utilize the opportunity to engage in conversation.

Farkle asks him to elaborate on what he meant about what he said at dinner the other night. About connections, and all that nonsense. Once he’s able to sort of figure out what exactly Farkle is requesting to hear, Ezekiel states that he doesn’t think any of it is all that deep but basically he simply meant that for things in life to hold meaning, you have to put time and effort into them. You need to be present for your claims of importance to hold any water.

Ezekiel goes on further, explaining that with his transition to college and everything, he had an epiphany of sorts about how positivity is so crucial. All of the negativity around them, the constant conflict and pushing people around is just white noise.

Ezekiel: That’s how dad rose up in his business, after all. He always operates as a friend, a partner, a supporter rather than a detractor. He’s an ally, and that’s an attractive trait. Makes him win in the end. That’s why he’s so good at what he does, at least from my perspective.

Farkle questions whether that principle just applies to the business world. Ezekiel shrugs, stating he’s fairly certain it applies to everything. Doesn’t matter who you are.

More than anything though, he just meant that it’s important to spend time with the people you care about while you have them so that they know how much you mean to them. Ever since he left for college he’s been thinking about that a lot – especially in regards to his family.

Farkle absorbs this, managing a smile when Ezekiel reaches forward to pat him on the back. He clearly has a lot to think about the later the night stretches on.

INT. JACOBS ARTS GALA - BALLROOM - NIGHT

Riley is gearing up for her performance, obviously nervous. She wrings her hands as she expresses her task to Lucas, who listens calmly as she rambles on about it. Once she takes a second to breathe, he has the opportunity to speak. Lucas doesn’t have much advice in the realm of performing, naturally, but he claims that she’ll be fine because she always is. He can’t think of a time when she wasn’t good.

Riley: Oh, yeah? Really? You literally told me I wasn’t that impressive during the first week of classes.

Lucas: No, I didn’t –

Riley: Are you kidding me? You said I was an “unassuming chorus member” –

Lucas: I meant that you were holding back. Which you were. That didn’t mean you weren’t good. You were always good.

That’s a lot of perspective altering to throw at her all at once when she’s already overwhelmed. Lucas shifts focus back to the task at hand, essentially giving her the same guidance that Shawn gave Angela – that she should just sing from the heart or whatever it is that they’re saying all the time. Riley absorbs this just as Eric comes to grab her, telling her that she has to get ready to take the stage.

INT. AUDITION HALL - DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

Zay is in full panic mode, totally freaking out about his performance. He’s forgetting steps, overthinking it just like Charlie warned him not to. He can’t believe he’s about to blow everything on the one chance he’s given to really show what he can do.

Suddenly, he’s struck with inspiration. He looks through his phone, scrolling and scrolling until he finds a new suitable avenue. He nods to himself, trusting himself to take a different approach.

Then he grabs his choreography sheet off the counter, giving it one last look before tearing it up.

INT. JACOBS ARTS GALA - BALLROOM - NIGHT

A rosy hue glows throughout the ballroom as Riley steps up to the stage, conferring quietly with the instrumentalists. It’s evident that she’s figured out her song, and when she steps up to the microphone and adjusts it as necessary she takes a moment to find her stage presence. She searches through the lights to find Eric in the crowd, standing with Jack and watching her proudly. Just a few paces to the right, she finds Lucas.

She’s got support. She’s not alone. Taking a deep breath, she nods to the violinist to kick off the performance.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “That Would Be Enough” as performed by Hamilton Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Riley Matthews

Starting with the open violin and the first “Look around, look around,” Riley skips the duet portion of the Eliza solo and jumps to the core of the song about a minute in. It’s an excellent choice, both for her vocal range as well as the crowd considering it’s hip musical theater.

Even more pointed is how well it applies to her emotions at the moment, which is exactly why she picked it. The first verse she sings for herself (“Look at where we are, look at where we started…”), marveling over how far she’s come in the past year and allowing herself the moment to soak it all up – the beautiful insanity of AAA, the rush of performing and being surrounded by artists who love it too, to be a thousand times stronger than she was before.

As she hits the next verse, however, her focus shifts. She finds Lucas in the crowd again, using him as her anchor as she ventures further into the performance. The lyrics ring particularly true here, too, as she sings directly to him (“I don’t pretend to know the challenges you’re facing / the worlds you keep erasing and creating in your mind…”).

Jack leans over to Eric, whispering that she’s absolutely stunning. Eric, a little choked up, wholeheartedly agrees.

Considering the captivated expression on his face, it’s safe to say that Lucas agrees. He can’t take his eyes off of her, and with how intently she’s staying grounded to him it could very well be a performance shared only between the two of them (“If I could grant you peace of mind, if you could let me inside your heart…”).

It’s a beautiful, delicate performance, and a perfect showing for AAA. The applause that she earns from the assembled appreciators of the arts is well, well earned.

INT. CHARLIE’S CHURCH - NIGHT

Charlie is still present like the darling son he is, but he’s growing impatient. He’s tapping his feet, checking the clock on his phone incessantly.

He makes eye contact with Ambrose from across the room, waiting for some kind of signal that he’s free to go. His father seems to think on it for a long, torturous moment… then he smiles, nodding him along. Charlie exhales, returning the beam and inconspicuously sneaking his way out of the gathering.

EXT. CHARLIE’S CHURCH - NIGHT

Charlie emerges into the brisk New York evening, only pausing for half a second before breaking into a sprint down the street.

INT. AUDITION HALL - THEATER - NIGHT

Zay emerges from the dressing room hall, sporting a different overall ensemble than he was before – much more of an eye-catcher with his Prince-esque floral suit jacket than the dance clothes he was wearing earlier. Maya and Isadora greet him and wish him luck, noting the change in his appearance. Maya questions how he’s feeling, and Isadora points out that he’s probably not going to be able to dance very well in that new attire.

Zay: You’re right. Because I’m not dancing.

Maya and Isadora both drop their jaws, wondering what the hell he’s doing. Maya tries to stop him and ask him exactly that, but Zay is already marching onto the stage.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Charlie is sprinting with everything he’s got, dashing through the nightlit avenues in his Sunday best. Running against the clock, just to get a few blocks away… closing the distance with every ticking second…

INT. JACOBS ARTS GALA - BALLROOM - NIGHT

Riley is fielding compliments and praise for her performance from gala guests, obviously unprepared for all the attention. Lucas meanders over to join her, somewhat saving her from further niceties with strangers. He shares a similar sentiment of congratulations, although his awe seems to run far deeper than that of the other patrons.

Lucas: You were – I don’t know what you were worried about.

Riley: Well, thank you. I think.

Lucas: Always good. I don’t know how you do it.

Riley: Hmm. I guess it’s just because I’m “too damn talented.”

It takes Lucas a second to get the reference, then he exhales a sheepish laugh. They hold each other’s gaze for a long moment until Lucas clears his throat, asking her if she wants to dance.

Riley: I’m sorry. Am I hearing that right? Lucas James Friar, willing to dance?

Lucas: Well, I figure if I’m playing the role tonight, I may as well play it right. [ a beat ] And I’ve had a pretty good teacher.

He holds out his arm, waiting for her to take it if she so chooses. She does, shyly, as Zay’s introduction to the judges pre-laps.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Ain’t No Way” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by Zay Babineaux

As the opening swell of the soulful ballad floats in, Riley and Lucas make their way towards the center of the ballroom.

INT. AUDITION HALL - THEATER - NIGHT

Zay delivers a killer rendition, doing exactly what Charlie said he would – blow everyone out of the water with his raw talent. All year long he’s been forcing his dancing expertise, it was easy to forget how powerful a vocalist he is as well. There’s a reason he earned a ranking as one of the sophomore divas, and after this, no one is ever going to forget it again.

INT. JACOBS ARTS GALA - BALLROOM - NIGHT

The performance also underscores Riley and Lucas at the gala, venturing their dance. They start off in proper waltz posture, just like she taught him… but as the song progresses, they loosen up. Adjust their stance, close some of the distance, shift more into a slow dance.

At some point, Riley leans forward and rest her head against his shoulder as they sway together. Lucas honestly looks dumbstruck, as though he can’t believe this is actually happening. Any of it. He’d pinch himself, if he wasn’t so preoccupied by her or ever wanted to wake up from it.

EXT. AUDITION HALL - NIGHT

Charlie continues his sprint, darting up the steps two at a time and pushing through the doors.

INT. AUDITION HALL - THEATER - NIGHT

By the time Charlie makes it into the auditorium he’s out of breath, but he’s just in time to catch the latter half of Zay’s performance. He stumbles forward against the handicap rail in the back of the section and takes it all in – Zay’s inarguable stage presence, his outstanding vocals, the fact that he took his advice and is giving nothing but soul.

Charlie is totally entranced. He isn’t catching his breath any time soon.

INT. JACOBS ARTS GALA - BALLROOM - NIGHT

By the final act of the performance as Zay is heading into the final chorus, Riley shifts out of their posture and leans back a bit to look at Lucas. They lock eyes, searching one another’s expressions… and leaning into their first kiss.

It’s slow, uncertain, and over before either of them realize it. But it lingers, and their lips only break apart for a few moments before they initiate a second one. This one is a little bolder, a bit more certain, an active choice on both their ends rather than a tentative curiosity. Riley tightens her hold on his jacket to pull him closer, Lucas lifting a hand to cup her face.

INT. AUDITION HALL - THEATER - NIGHT

Zay finishes the number, totally bringing down the house. Charlie is starstruck. Maya and Isadora are in shock in the wings, able to see the writing on the wall. It’s more than clear who is going to the Kossal program that summer.

INT. JACOBS ARTS GALA - BALLROOM - NIGHT

Lucas and Riley pull back from one another, just enough to exchange hesitant eye contact. Then Riley breaks into a bashful giggle, easing the tension in an instant. She tilts her head against his, Lucas licking his lips and unable to hold back his smile.

EXT. AUDITION HALL - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “The Louvre” as performed by Lorde || Instrumental

Maya steps out into the night, inhaling the fresh air. She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and taking a moment. She knows she’s not getting that summer program, not after Zay’s performance.

But she’s used to disappointment. It’s never stopped her before. Onto the next thing.

She exhales through her nose, opening her eyes. Then she descends down the steps, leaving the lost opportunity behind.

INT. AUDITION HALL - DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

Zay is gathering his things, still shaky on adrenaline from a stellar performance. He hesitates, finally getting to exhale. He almost can’t believe all the stress and strain is done.

Charlie manages to find his way to him, appearing in the doorway. Zay glances up and spots him in the mirror, eyebrows shooting up as he whips around in surprise. He literally can’t believe he showed up.

Zay: Charlie. You’re here.

[ Charlie smiles, nodding. He saunters further into the room, treading cautiously. Not because of Zay, but because he isn’t sure he trusts himself. ]

Charlie: After being so brutally honest, you thought I wouldn’t show up?

Zay: No. No, I just thought – you said you had –

Zay shrugs. He doesn’t really know what he thought, and he supposes it doesn’t really matter. It’s nice to see him there. Really nice.

Zay: I took your advice. So.

Charlie: Yeah, I noticed. And dare I say, I think it worked as intended.

Zay: You think so?

Charlie: Dude, you were amazing. There’s no way they’re not going to pick you.

Zay waves him off, not nearly so sure. Not wanting to jinx it. Charlie has made his way well across the room now, joining him by the counters and much closer. Dangerously close.

Charlie: I’m serious. You should’ve heard yourself. You were mindblowing.

Zay: Come on.

Charlie: I mean it. I mean, you always are. Stunning. Breathtaking.

Charlie can’t look away from him. He’s mesmerized, and still somehow damningly out of breath. He feels like he’s never going to be able to breathe again. Zay lifts his gaze to meet his, searching his expression. Not believing he could be reading the situation correctly.

Charlie shrugs wordlessly. Then he licks his lips, letting out a ragged exhale.

Charlie, breathlessly: Who needs oxygen?

Before Zay can question the statement, Charlie grabs the lapels of his suit jacket and pulls him into a kiss. It’s fumbling, a bit of a disaster to start, the two of them bracing against the counter and Zay reaching out to hold him mostly to keep him from falling over.

But they figure it out pretty quickly from there. Charlie hesitates for one last second, taking another glance at him before going in for another one. Eagerly. Decisively. Making his choice.

It doesn’t take long for Zay to get on the same page once the initial shock wears off. He kisses him back, tugging him closer and reaching up to start undoing his Sunday best tie.

The auditions may be wrapped, but it’s clear the two of them aren’t going anywhere for a while.

INT. JACK’S CAR - MOVING - NIGHT

Jack and Eric chatter in the front, lightly discussing the gala and the performances from the evening. Completely oblivious to how everything has changed.

Riley and Lucas are quiet. They’re seated in the back, not looking at each other. They can’t. It’s too much to ask of them with so much shifting between them, and with their faculty right there in front of them.

Riley glances away from fiddling with her purse to steal a look at him. He’s keeping his eyes trained out the window, absentmindedly chewing on his thumbnail. So, so far from the intimidating first impression he made at the beginning of the year. She shifts her gaze to his hand instead, resting on his leg and fingers tapping anxiously against his knee.

Gently, she reaches forward and touches the sleeve of his jacket. Lucas freezes, his fingers hovering over his leg. He tosses a glance in her direction out of the corner of his eye, uncertain what she’s going to do and wholly certain that he can’t brave looking her in the eyes.

Her fingers brush the back of his hand, before she lets her hand come to rest on top of his. Venturing that simple touch, rubbing her thumb against his knuckles. Lucas stares at their hands, still frozen. Still unable to look at her.

Then, he flips his hand over and links their fingers together. It’s that easy.

They don’t look at each other. They don’t give anything away. But light smiles bloom onto both of their faces as they direct their gazes out the car windows and towards the city lights.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Lucas enters the apartment as silently as possible, trying not to disturb whoever else might be around or asleep. Further inspection reveals a light on in the kitchen area, indicating that his efforts to go undetected might be futile. He frowns, stepping towards the room.

GRACE FRIAR is seated at the kitchen table, up late rifling through paperwork. When Lucas softly asks why she’s still up, she jumps slightly and lifts her head. It’s an immediate relief when she sees that it’s only him. She manages a smile, taking in his full attire.

Grace: You look nice. Where did you get that suit jacket?

Lucas: [ after a beat ] A friend.

Lucas avoids her gaze as she questions whether he had fun, busying himself by getting a glass of water. He pauses to actually consider the question, before confirming he did. He starts to make his retreat before he doubles back, posing a new discussion topic.

Lucas: Do you still have the application for McCullough? [ off Grace’s nod, and a beat of contemplation ] Forget about it. I’ll be fine at Triple A.

Grace, surprised: Are you sure?

There’s another beat of hesitation. Then, Lucas’s expression softens.

Lucas: Yeah. I am.

He bids his mother goodnight, disappearing from the kitchen doorway. Grace watches him go, a bit bemused. Sensing a major change of heart in her son, absolutely clueless as to where it came from. But it doesn’t seem like a bad thing. Not at all.

After a moment she smiles, returning to her work.

EXT. MAYA’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Maya is seated on the steps in front of her building, the street glimmering with the lights of the city and early morning dew. Farkle appears around the corner, marching towards her with his hands in his pockets. It’s not clear how far he’s walked alone in the middle of the night.

He’s frantic, full of nervous energy. She doesn’t bother to acknowledge him as he approaches. He stops in front of the steps, waiting for an invitation. When he doesn’t get one, he plops down next to her anyway. He bounces his legs restlessly, a sharp contrast to her plaintive calm.

They’re silent for a long moment. Maya clears her throat, ready to tell him off.

Maya: Are you lost, Farkle? It’s midnight and you live across town –

Farkle: I don’t want to be alone.

The statement takes Maya by surprise. She frowns, turning her gaze to him. He keeps staring straight ahead, rubbing his palms on his knees. Still fidgeting. His speech is scattered, panicked.

Farkle: I don’t know why I’m like this. Why I get this way. I tell myself it’s just the ambition, the drive pushing me towards my destiny, but I don’t know. I don’t think your destiny is supposed to feel this suffocating. Claustrophobic. [ a beat ] It’s like, if you’re going to do anything in this world you’ve got to be the best. And if you’re gonna do something as stupid as performance art, then you really have to be the best or else you’ve got nothing. And I didn’t want to be a nothing. I can’t be a nothing.

Maya listens intently, contemplative and somewhat stunned. Almost a year of friendship, or whatever the two of them are, and he’s never been this vulnerable.

Farkle: And if you’re going to be the best, that means fuck the rest. Right? If you’re at the top, then it means no one else can be. That’s what I always thought. That’s what made sense. But I’ve got this… it’s like I’ve got this whole other side to me that has a new motivation. And I don’t think I can survive with two. It’s like I’m splitting down the middle. But I know they’re both true. They’re both all-consuming. [ a beat ] I want to be the best. I want to get the auditions and the summer programs and get everything I deserve. I want it so badly, it’s blinding.

Maya waits, a bit more guarded. This much, she already knew.

Farkle: But I want to share it, too. I want to do it with people who are just as talented and star-bound as me. I want a team. I don’t want to be alone.

Farkle finally looks away from the street, forcing himself to meet her gaze. He hesitates, then speaks definitively. Like if he doesn’t say it, it’ll suffocate him.

Farkle: I want my friend.

Maya takes this all in, before softening a bit. After a moment she sighs, running a hand through her hair and trying to gauge the situation.

Maya: You really mean all that?

Farkle: Yes.

Maya: You done with all of the bullshit? All of the stupid –

Farkle, without hesitation: Yes. Yes.

It’s so difficult to figure out what’s real with him. Whether or not he’s telling the truth. But somehow, Maya wants it to be true.

Maya: You really mean just as talented?

Farkle: [ with an eager nod ] Maybe more.

The statement is sincere. And this, it seems, is the ticket to earning back her approval. She gives him a hesitant smile, nodding as well and letting her gaze drift back to the street. They continue to sit in the cool May twilight, the winds of change kicking up a breeze around them.

This friendship may just stay afloat yet…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

The last couple days of sophomore year seem to promise an unusually little amount of chaos compared to the usual tenor of AAA. Farkle is at his locker on his phone, and we can see that he has messaged the AAAC multiple times over the weekend requesting that his submission be deleted and forgotten about.

The page hasn’t responded, so it seems like a moot point. For what it’s worth, the AAAC seems to have finally given up.

Farkle accepts this, closing his locker. Glancing down the hallway, wondering what an entirely new year is going to bring.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

On the bulletin board outside the black box, Zay has been announced as the summer program recipient. The assembled classmates congratulate him, including a genuinely complimentary Maya and a very enthusiastic Riley. Charlie gives him a pat on the back, and they exchange a soft look – suddenly a lot more meaningful between them than before.

During this celebration, however, they all get notifications on their phones from Instagram.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Farkle gets it as well, still in a different part of the school. It informs him that AAA Confessions posted a new video, followed by one more message specifically meant for him.

“Too late. Self-destruct sequence initiated. Happy summer, Farkle Minkus.”

Consumed with dread, Farkle stops frozen in the hall and opens his phone. As he jumps to the app, his hands are shaking so badly he nearly drops the device. When he goes to check the page, all of the color drains from his face.

It’s worse than he expected. Not only is the content of his video posted, it’s him saying it. AAAC simply posted the video in its entirety, only having adding a caption explaining that the post is their swan song confession – and they’ve exposed everyone who ever posted on the account.

As Farkle’s voice on video begins to rattle throughout the school halls, he takes off at a mad dash down the hallway –

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “The World Was Wide Enough” as performed by Hamilton Original Broadway Cast || Instrumental (up to 4:00) - Performed by Farkle Minkus (4:00 onward)

INT. AAA - HALLWAYS - DAY

It’s chaos as everyone tunes into the video and sees the AAAC’s final post. Their final message is true to their word – scrolling down on the page, they’ve added a “signature” to every single original caption revealing who submitted it in the first place. All that power of anonymity, gone in an instant.

Friends are confronting friends about items posted. People are tuning in to Farkle’s video, in total awe and horror of the mere existence of it. Each piece of it is repeated in snippets as it passes through the halls, accenting the instrumentation of “The World Was Wide Enough.”

As Zay reads the caption on the post, he turns to look for Charlie. But Charlie is gone, having disappeared the moment it became clear exactly what was going on.

Charlie himself is hiding in a nook of a hallway closer to the atrium, looking like he’s going to be sick. As he frantically scrolls through the page, we discover what it is that has him so flustered – all of the posts about him and Riley were submitted by him. All that effort put into using it to keep suspicion off of him, and now he suddenly looks more curious than ever.

Panicked, Charlie jogs towards the front entrance and pushes through the doors. Taking off at a run without looking back.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The techies are huddled in their usual back section sans Isadora and Lucas, watching Farkle’s video with a distinct mix of horror and fascination. JADE BEAMON is hiding behind her hands, she can’t bear to watch it for too long. DAVE WILLIAMS can’t look away, jaw hanging open.

Lucas enters from the audience doors, noticing the tension in the congregation and asking them what’s going on. DYLAN ORLANDO and ASHER GARCIA immediately attempt to stifle the sound and hide the phone, assuring him that it’s nothing. But naturally, this adamant denial doesn’t sell convincingly on either of them.

He can tell something is seriously up. He repeats the question, approaching the group and coming to stand in front of them again. Dave tries to claim ignorance as well but Lucas is faster than them, reaching over and snatching Dylan’s phone from his hands before he can protest.

Lucas tunes into the video just as Farkle is wrapping up his section on him, transitioning to Isadora. Asher tries to tell him he’s stupid and he should forget about it, but Lucas isn’t listening to him anymore.

Farkle: … I mean, why else would she put in the effort to befriend jackass Lucas James Friar, other than by special request from her favorite counselor uncle in an attempt to make sure he doesn’t make a hit list or some shit considering he’s so openly pathetic. Riley Matthews doesn’t need sympathy, but she’s sure good at giving it…

Asher and Dylan are watching him like a hawk, not sure what to say. All of them are watching him with evident worry, and that just makes everything worse.

Farkle: … I guess it makes sense that she deserves one shot to prove she actually can live up to the family business without having to do any work for it. Sucks that it’s so late notice her best friend won’t even be there, as he’ll be too busy on his pity date with Riley. How tragic.

Stone-faced, Lucas drops the phone to the ground and marches from the auditorium. Dylan calls after him as Asher scrambles to pick up the phone off the ground. Dave starts to go after him in concern but Jade pulls him back.

INT. AAA - HALLWAYS - DAY

Farkle continues his desperate sprint through the halls, frantically trying to get to the black box to do damage control before everything unravels. He arrives and barrels through the doorway just as the gun shot in the instrumental goes off, kicking off the empty, tense backing of Hamilton’s free verse.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

The moment Farkle appears in the doorway, a dozen heads snap to look at him at once. Most of the sophomore class is assembled, nearly all of the performers except Charlie and including Isadora. They’re all staring at him, a myriad of unpleasant emotions on their faces.

Considering the fact that all of them are also on blast because of what the page did to the captions, Farkle is truly stepping into the full brunt of everyone’s betrayal and anger.

Maya breaks first, questioning how the hell he could do something like this. He really did blow up everything – including reveal her scholarship status to the whole school. Her eyes are glossy as she scrutinizes him, but the rage is enough of a deterrent to hold back any tears.

Farkle isn’t so lucky. He’s already choking up as he tries to defend himself, stammering through his words. He tries to point out that it wasn’t him who posted it, and he frantically tries to explain that he basically begged to have it deleted. He never wanted it to be shared. He didn’t mean it.

Maya: But you sent it. You said it!

The vitriol escalates pretty quickly from there, Zay pointing out how pathetic the whole thing is. Riley questions why he would put other people’s interpersonal relationships on blast, to which Isadora follows up that it’s obviously because he can’t imagine what having actual friendships must be like. Guess if he can’t have them, then no one can.

Farkle takes hit after hit, being the straw man in a scenario that has no good ending. But the whole thing gets far worse when Lucas storms into the room, asking if it’s true.

It’s like all of the air gets sucked out of the room. The performers turn to Lucas warily, wondering the hell he’s going to do. He repeats the question, voice quiet and sharp – which is honestly scarier than if he were shouting. Farkle swallows, certain he’s not going to live to see tomorrow.

But Lucas doesn’t focus on him. He zeroes in on Riley instead, locking eyes with her and looking at her for a long moment before asking about what he actually cares about. When he speaks, it’s barely above a murmur.

Lucas, mockingly: … pity date?

Riley: [ stunned ] No. No, Lucas, I didn’t – I never –

But it’s too late. It’s like Wyatt said – words are toothpaste, and they’re not going back in the tube. The sentiments have left their mark, for everyone involved.

Lucas huffs out a laugh, but it’s not a humorous one. Then he launches into a tirade about how he should’ve known better, they should’ve seen this coming. That, of course, the performers would default to this kind of petty and sadistic behavior, because that’s all they ever do. It’s been that way forever, and nothing is going to change it clearly. It’s a pretty staggering deconstruction, and he bookends it by stating he hopes they’re all really pleased with themselves. Really damn pleased.

Lucas focuses back on Farkle, voice dropping back down to a wavering murmur.

Lucas: [ letting out a scoff of a laugh ] … fuck you.

[ Farkle can’t look at him. He keeps his gaze trained on the wall, a couple of tears slipping down his cheeks. Lucas shakes his head, backing up. ]

Lucas: Fuck… [ raising his voice ] FUCK all of you!

Lucas storms out, pushing WYATT LIVINGSTON out of his way as he shoves past him to escape. Isadora shoots a murderous glare at all of them before chasing after him. CLARISSA CRUZ hides her head behind HALEY FISHER’S back, both of them crying. A tear escapes Riley, but she’s so shell-shocked she doesn’t even think to wipe it away.

The sophomore class starts to file out, trying to escape the unbearable tension they all had a hand in creating. They file out one by one in varying states of shock until it’s down to Farkle and Zay, the latter stopping in front of him as he makes his way out.

Zay: Was it worth it? Is it finally enough?

He scoffs, shaking his head in disgust as he leaves Farkle alone. Farkle stands there in the center of the classroom alone, completely frozen.

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

Isadora catches up to Lucas in the technician’s booth, intending to confront him about the commentaries leveled against him – particularly that he totally just blew her off to go on some date with Riley without bothering to clue her in. Because that’s not so hot either, and she was counting on him to be there. She needed him to be there, and he wasn’t. She expresses how idiotic she felt and demands to know what the hell he was thinking.

Lucas claims he doesn’t want to talk about it right now, obviously on the verge of a major emotional hurricane. Anyone else would be cautious to be near him with such a chaotic potential in the air – and understandably so – but Isadora knows him better than that. She’s not scared of him, and at the moment she’s pissed. So she won’t let it drop, pushing and pushing until he finally cracks.

He yells at her, begging her to shut up. He can’t deal with it right now, so would she just let it drop? She winces, shocked enough by the outburst to stop the badgering. Lucas blinks at her, turning away and collapsing back against the electrical cabinet. He slides down to the floor, all of the anger gone in an instant and just left with… everything else.

He covers his face with his hands, letting out a shaky “fuck” and pulling up his knees in front of him. Isadora hesitates by the lighting board, realizing now isn’t the time for the confrontation. They’ll have that conversation later, she knows that they will. For now, she thinks he needs her to be present in a different way – even if he wasn’t there for her the way she expected he’d be.

Tentatively, she approaches him and sits down against the cabinet next to him. She cautiously puts an arm around his shoulders to comfort him – a big move, coming from Isadora – and that moment of vulnerability is what shatters the flood gates.

Lucas leans into her embrace, breaking down in tears as the sting of everything falling apart finally starts to sink in. When he said that when he cared about something, we would know… well. That’s more evident than ever before.

Isadora holds him and allows him to melt down, lightly propping her chin on his head. Her expression is grim, holding it together so that at least one of them remains stalwart.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Farkle takes over the vocalization of “The World Was Wide Enough,” tuning in on “Now I’m the villain in your history…” He’s walking along the edge of the stage on his own, balance precarious. Like he could fall at any second, but at that point he doesn’t care anymore.

His eyes are glossy but the tears are done. He’s blank-faced, trying to comprehend the fact that his world just turned upside down, and the truth of it is? It was all his fault.

I was too young and blind to see, I should’ve known. I should’ve known the world was wide enough for all of them and me.

Close on Farkle’s teary eyes, before a slow fade to black. Then, the sounds of a bustling airport float in as we transition to a new location…

INT. AIRPORT - DAY

Close on a smartphone, open to the AAAC but from the moderator side rather than follower as we’re accustomed to seeing it. A thumb navigates to settings, going to the delete button. When Instagram prompts if the user is sure about deleting the account, they hesitate.

Easing out, it is finally revealed who the true operator of the AAAC was – Chai Fresco. In spite of her successfully evading getting caught, she doesn’t look thrilled with all of the chaos that unfolded in its wake.

As her boarding section is called for her flight to Europe, she acts quickly and confirms the delete. Poof! It’s as if the page was never there… even if all the damage it caused still remains.

Chai grabs her things, heading towards the flight that will take her away from all of the aftermath. Not looking back.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Empty hallways. Quiet building. Summer has begun, and the impending confrontations are put on hold for a few weeks. The hallways feel eerie, not populated with students and dancing and music as they should be…

Eric: What the hell happens next?

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Eric is seated behind his desk, Jack in the usual student occupied chair across from him. They’re both stunned speechless, still attempting to wrap their minds around what the hell unfolded in the last three days of classes. Eric confirms that the confessions page has been terminated for good, so at least there’s that.

Jack: Mister Livingston was right.

Eric frowns, prompting Jack to continue. It’s clear that this has taken a toll on Jack. He doesn’t look all that well, and his voice is ragged as he tries to compose his thoughts. He laments that Wyatt was correct about him – he is incompetent, and he couldn’t stop this from imploding in on itself. More than that, he’s the failure. He failed their students, from beginning to end.

Eric tries to refute this notion, but Jack isn’t willing to hear it. And in some ways, they did fail, there’s no sugarcoating that. They tried to protect their students, and it didn’t work. Everyone got hurt, somehow.

Most pointedly, Jack continues, Wyatt was right when he said there is a serious culture problem at AAA. Too much competition, too cutthroat. They have to change it, and it’s going to take both of them working together to fix it from the ground up.

Jack looks to Eric, a far cry from the resolute and polished principal we met at the beginning of the season. He lets out an exhale, locking eyes with his most stubborn yet most impassioned faculty member.

Jack: Will you help me?

Eric holds his gaze, obviously contemplating. Then he holds out his hand, waiting for Jack to shake on it. If they’re going to rebuild, then it’s going to take both of them indeed.

Jack hesitates, then links his hand with his.

END OF SEASON.

[blacklitchick]

21. To Prove We’re Not In A Rut

It was only a quarter after ten in the morning yet it had already been a day. Kids and husband woke up late. No time for breakfast. Broke various speed laws to get their seven-year-old to school on time. By the time Michonne made it on the road to Atlanta she had breathe a sigh of relief. She thought the day had finally turned around. Though fate had other ideas. Instead of sitting at the cherry wood table in the conference room with the panoramic view of downtown Atlanta, meeting with one of her firm’s biggest clients, she was perched on a dirty bench at a rest stop watching AAA drive away after changing her blown out tire.

She hastily typed a text message to her secretary with one hand while the other gripped a half cup of coffee. The rest of the liquid was displayed in a large, brown stain seeped into her white, silk blouse with droplets leaving a trail down to her grey skirt. Frustrated was too weak a word to describe what she was feeling. Her phone buzzed with a message from her secretary promising to apologize profusely to the other partners on her behalf.

Michonne stood and took another look down the road as she scratched at the neat bun at the back of her head. The constant roar of cars driving by did nothing to alleviate the tension headache that developed between her brows. She felt like crying, like screaming, like kicking her newly changed tire. A spark of hope pushed away a bit of the frustration when she saw the sheriff's cruiser she’d been waiting for pull off the highway and into the rest stop. Seeing her husband’s face through the windshield made her whole body relax some.

Rick turned off the engine and tugged her black gym bag from the passenger's seat before stepping out of the car. He hugged Michonne close with a kiss on the cheek. Her arms flew around his waist and she buried her head in his chest.

“Rick…” She hadn't meant for her voice to come out in a whine, but it felt highly appropriate for the day she was having.

“Morning didn’t get any better?” He asked looking down at her stained clothes.

“That’s an understatement,” Michonne said as she leaned into her husband, getting comfort just by being near him. “Did you bring everything?”

He held up the bag. “Yeah. Your black skirt and green shirt.”

She peeked into the bag then gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, love. You’re a lifesaver.”

“That’s why you married me.” He rubbed her back.

“One of the many, many reasons.” She pointed to a small shed of restrooms off to the side. “I can go change in there. You know how much I normally hate rest stop bathrooms, but my options are few right now.”

Rick scanned the surroundings looking for any danger then turned back to his wife. “Don't worry. I'll go in with you. It's pretty deserted around here. I don't want you in there by yourself.”

Michonne took the bag from him. “My hero.”

She held her breath as they walked in, waiting for ungodly smells to hit her, but was surprised by a fairly clean space. She slipped into one of the stalls to change while Rick leaned against the row of sinks.

“Did you let the partners know you’d be late?” He asked.

“Uh huh. I sent a message to Lynn. I know I’m going to get some disapproving looks when I walk in, but there’s nothing I can do about that now.”

“Just remind them your husband is a sheriff and carries a gun.” His voice was gruff in a way she knew meant he was only half-joking.

“I could be wrong, but I think threatening my colleagues won’t help me much in my career.”

“Just remember it’s always an option.”

She laughed softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She tried to not fall over in the small stall as she slipped her skirt up her thighs. “Am I keeping you from anything?” She called out to him.

He turned his wrist over to look at his watch. “Not really. I’m sure crime is out of control since I’m not in King County proper right now though.”

“So funny, Sheriff Grimes.”

“Actually, my day hadn't reaIly started yet. I had just left the high school to bring Carl money for lunch when you called. He forgot his wallet at home.”

“Did he finish his history paper last night?”

“He finished the first draft. Wanted you to look it over tonight.”

“OK, good. Gracie has that family tree project to do tonight too. He can help her with that while I look over the paper. She almost left her lunch on the kitchen counter. Good thing I made it last night or she'd be buying the special of the day for lunch too. There was no time to spare this morning.”

Rick chuckled. “Our kids are forgetful.”

Michonne stepped out of the stall wearing a black pencil skirt with an emerald green blouse. “They get it honest. I'm the one who forgot to set the alarm last night.”

Rick stood behind her as she adjusted her clothes and hair. “It's not all on you, baby. I should have remembered too.”

She smiled at his reflection in the mirror. “Another reason I married you. Always willing to share the blame.”

He patted her hip before walking over to the door to make another scan of their surroundings. “We're a team. It's what I'm supposed to do.” Satisfied they were still safe he moved back behind his wife. “Oh, I ran into Olivia earlier. She wants to make sure Gracie is coming to her son’s birthday party on Saturday.”

“Shit, I thought that was next weekend. I haven't bought a gift yet.”

“Hopefully, it won't last too long. Carl has a game at five that afternoon.”

“That's not on Sunday?”

Rick shook his head. “Nah. They changed it because there's rain forecasted for Sunday.”

Michonne put her head in her hands. “Too much is going on. I told Jacob I’d make a trip into the office on Saturday to work on the depositions we have coming up.”

Rick massaged her shoulders and kissed the back of her neck. “Don't stress, baby. We'll make it work.”

She pulled her hands away and met his eyes again in the mirror. “When did this happen?” She asked.

Rick squinted at her and tilted his head to the side. “When did what happen?”

“When did all our conversations start to revolve around work and the kids?” She faced him so she could wrap her arms around his waist. “Before our wedding we promised ourselves we’d never turn into one of those couples. We promised we always be interesting and hot for each other. So what happened?”

Rick pulled her in closer. “Life happened, but you’re right. We used to make love almost every night and now…”

“Now it’s been at least three weeks since the last time. Even then it was just a quick romp in the shower before the kids knocked down our door demanding breakfast. And before that I can’t even remember the last time.”

Rick ran a hand over her cheek. “Between the kids, you becoming partner, and me winning the Sheriff’s election life has gotten in the way of our romance.”

She pulled away to look up at him. “I don’t like it.”

“Me neither, baby. Me neither.” His hands moved from her waist down to cup her ass. He sighed at how perfect it felt in the palms of his hands. “Maybe we can go away soon. Just you and me.”

Michonne wrapped her arms around his neck. “We should, but seeing as I'm already late and we're in here all alone...there's no time like the present to break a rut.”

Rick bit his lip and let his eyes wander down her body. When he met her eyes again he knew he had to have here right in that moment. He hurried to the entrance of the restroom to block the door with a trash can. In a flash, he was back in front of Michonne and lifted her onto the counter.

Their kisses usually started off slow and sensual, but when his lips crushed against hers Michonne was shocked by the urgency and intensity. Though she soon matched his fervor, pulling at his hair and wrapping her legs around his waist. He broke the kiss and started trailing his lips down her body, bit at her neck, and kissed her breasts through her shirt. He pushed her skirt up over her thighs until the black fabric bunched around her waist. He moved her lace panties to side and smirked when he saw she was already wet for him. He kissed her clit before diving in with his tongue. Michonne let out a scream that was shock, pleasure, and joy all in one. She had missed him. She had missed this.

She leaned her head back against the mirror as both legs locked around his head. One hand grabbed at his curls while the other held onto the counter. Her moans vibrated against the tile of the restroom as the wet sounds of Rick pleasuring her joined the chorus. He moaned at the taste of her. He had missed her. He had missed this. 

Her breaths were coming hard and fast as she grinded herself against his mouth. She was ready to explode yet she didn’t want the moment to end. Just as she was about to cry out his name an urgent knock echoed through the small space. Both Rick and Michonne paused. She tried to push his head back down between her legs until another knock rapped against the door.

“Is anyone in here? I need to use the restroom. Why are you blocking the door?” A woman’s voice called out.

They both sighed at the same time and wordlessly Rick helped Michonne down from the counter. She readjusted her clothes and grabbed her gym bag as Rick moved the trash can back to its original spot. An older woman gave them both a suspicious look as she rushed into the restroom. Michonne knew she probably should apologize, but all she felt was frustration that her time with her husband had been interrupted.

Rick threw Michonne’s bag into her backseat then grabbed her hips to pull her close. He kissed her slowly. She was grateful he was holding her up as his lips were making her weak in the knees all over again.

“Tonight. We’ll finish what started,” he said once he finally pulled away.

She ran her hand through his hair. “Is that a promise, Sheriff?”

“You bet your ass it is.” He smacked her on the behind then opened the car door. “Drive safely, baby.”

She kissed him again before climbing into the driver’s seat. “Tonight,” she said.

He nodded. “Tonight.”

Michonne’s could barely concentrate as she drove down the highway. Rick and his lips occupied every space in her mind. She tried to figure out how to rearrange her schedule to find some time to stop at the La Perla shop near her job for some new lingerie goodies to surprise Rick with that night. The loud peal of sirens cut into her thoughts. She looked into the rear-view mirror to see Rick’s cruiser coming up fast behind her. He signaled for her to follow him onto the feeder road and into a wooded back street. A canopy of trees rose above their vehicles. It felt like they had hidden away somewhere in the country as the sounds from the highway were extinguished.

Michonne stepped out of her car. “Rick, what’s –” Before she could get the question out he lifted her onto the hood. His hands squeezed her breasts before he pulled her skirt up over her waist.

“I couldn’t wait until tonight,” he said as he slipped her panties down over legs. He kissed down her thighs until he was knelt below her on his knees. “We’re never going to be that couple again. I promise you that.”

@richonnejustdesserts

[thebuckblogimo]

The ever-changing face of America and what I make of it after all these years.

July 21, 2019

As a proud member of the gerontocracy, I’ve seen the world evolve in ways I never imagined as a child. Take, for example, the not-so-simple matter of race relations and attitudes toward skin color.

When I started school at St. Alphonsus in 1953, every kid was white. But not really white. My first big box of Crayolas included a color called “Flesh.” I remember staring at it, thinking that it did not look like the color of the skin of anyone I knew. And certainly not like that of the “colored people” (as African-Americans were known in the early ‘50s) in the Detroit neighborhood where my grandparents lived.

Crayola didn’t even try to make a crayon for them.

As I got a little older and started playing youth baseball, my team, the Bullets, occasionally played a team from the south end of Dearborn that everyone called “the Syrians.” They were a bunch of Arabic kids whose parents or grandparents actually came from Lebanon, and I recall thinking that they looked white but that most of them had better tans than the kids on my team.

By the time I was in high school during the early to mid ‘60s, the civil rights movement, led by Martin Luther King Jr., was ascending in national attention. I didn’t watch much nightly news in those days, but I was aware that Walter Cronkite of CBS, and “Huntley-Brinkley” of NBC, covered it every evening on TV.  At that point in my life I remember often hearing the words “prejudice,” “discrimination,” “segregation” and “integration,” but I don’t recall ever hearing the word “diversity.”

Actually, in my mostly blue collar neighborhood, there may have been more discussion about “nationality” than skin color during those years. The grandparents of most of my friends had all immigrated to America from somewhere else--Italy, Poland, Germany, Ireland, Scotland and Belgium. Canada, too, although we never thought of Canadians as immigrants. In any case, Dearborn was “all white.” Period. And mayor Orville Hubbard neither said nor did much to refute his separatist reputation.

When I went off to college, one of my biggest surprises was the racial--and geographic--composition of the Michigan State football team. The mid 1960s were the glory years of Spartan football and most of the best players were black and from the South. Such as All-American defensive end Bubba Smith (Beaumont, Texas); All-American wide receiver Gene Washington (LaPorte, Texas); All-American roverback George Webster (Anderson, South Carolina); and Jimmy Raye (Fayetteville, North Carolina) who became the first black quarterback from the South to win a national title. Those great ‘65 and ‘66 teams also included two Hawaiians, placekicker Dick Kenny and All-American fullback Bob Apisa who was born in American Samoa.

If you search for a photo of the 1965 Alabama football team, which shared the national championship with MSU that season, you will find that it does not include a single black face. And if you Google photos of the 1966 Notre Dame team, which shared the next year’s national title with the Spartans, it reveals just one black player--that of All-American defensive tackle Alan Page.

In my estimation, head coach Duffy Daugherty has never received sufficient credit for all the things he did to integrate college football.

By the end of my second year on campus, the civil rights movement, student protests against the war in Vietnam, worries over being drafted into the military, the emerging sexual revolution, drug use and all the cultural changes associated with the ‘60s--in music, literature, hair styles, clothing, etc.--made “crazy” feel routine.

And then on Sunday, July 23, 1967, things got even crazier.

I recall sitting with some pals at “the Canteen” at Camp Dearborn, eating a black cherry ice cream cone in the late afternoon sun, when a St. Al’s girl I had known since first grade walked up to our table and said, “Have you heard about the riot going on in Detroit?”

Riot? Detroit? What? Huh?

The next evening I drove down Warren Avenue into the city with my Dad, and I remember seeing independent business owners sitting on the steps of their stores, with rifles locked and loaded, prepared to defend their properties. The following day at the Detroit paint factory where I worked that summer, I took the staircase to the rooftop of Building 42, looked out toward the Detroit River and could see hundreds of fires dotting the cityscape. Detroit was put under curfew for four days; the National Guard, as well as two divisions of the U.S. Army, were called in to quell the disturbance; and in the end, 43 people died, over 7,000 arrests were made and 2,000 buildings were destroyed. The riot was triggered by an early-hours bust of a blind pig, but black frustration with racial inequities was at the root of it all.

Detroit has never been the same since.

I graduated from college in December of 1969, and about two months later drove across the country with my buddy Joe on an adventure to the West Coast. I was soon able to find a job as a janitor at the uber-exclusive Pacific Union (Men’s) Club at the top of Nob Hill in San Francisco. It was my first introduction to people with “yellow skin.”

I was part of a work crew that consisted of a Filipino, a Korean, a Chinese man and three white guys. The three Asians had all come to America in hopes of saving enough money to bring their families to the U.S. All three struggled with English, and I helped my Korean buddy learn the language by reading aloud the comics section of the Sunday paper, while pointing at the illustrations.

Because of the language barrier and my short time on the job, I gained few good insights into those guys and their respective cultures, other than to say I knew them as great workers.

After a couple of months, Joe and I moved on to Los Angeles, but I was feeling like a bit of loser, homesick and hungry. He found a gig as a carpenter; I soon caught a ride back home with some pals who were visiting the coast. In December of 1970 I finally landed my first big boy job as a copywriter for the Automobile Club of Michigan (AAA) at its headquarters in downtown Detroit.

It was the fulfillment of my boyhood dreams. I was writing every day about insurance, travel and auto financing services. I was being taken to lunch several times a week by art studios or the ad agency that created AAA’s radio and TV advertising. And I finally had a couple of bucks in my pocket.

But something was percolating below the surface at work. Word leaked out that the Auto Club would be moving its headquarters from downtown Detroit to Dearborn. And, suddenly, there was a concurrent realization that there was not a single black person or woman who was a department manager at the downtown headquarters or at any of the 56 Michigan AAA branch offices at that time.

Although it still felt like the ‘60s, instead of revolting, disgruntled black employees and a female employee filed separate discriminatory lawsuits against the Auto Club. The suits dragged on for years in the courts, but by the time I left the company in 1979 there were numerous blacks and many women in prominent positions at AAA throughout the state.

Meanwhile, during the early-to-mid ‘70s, the Motor City came to be known as the Murder City. Also, federally imposed school busing accelerated the flight of white people from Detroit. Nevertheless, in December of 1977, I bought my first home in an integrated Detroit neighborhood called North Rosedale Park. Thanks to an active civic association, involved block clubs, a community house for hosting neighborhood events, etc., North Rosedale worked.

However, to the south, the neighborhoods branching out from nearby Evergreen Road, and the ones north of West McNichols, had become virtually all black. I was inside a few homes in those neighborhoods only a handful of times, visiting or partying with black colleagues from work. However, I slow-cruised the streets of Northwest Detroit many times in my car, an admittedly imperfect way to try to understand what it was like to live there. I observed people who were obviously middle class, but I observed many more who appeared to be “underclass.”

For a time I was a member of a North Rosedale Park committee to help prevent neighborhood crime and was privy to a police department map with pinpoints that plotted major crimes in the 16th precinct. Car thefts. B&Es. Shootings. Murders. I could clearly see the extent of the problem throughout the precinct. Like everyone else I read about the crime throughout the city in the daily newspapers. I watched the coverage of it on TV. And I could “feel it” when I drove through the neighborhoods in my car.

I got married in 1979. And by the end of the ‘80s Debbie and I had four small children. It was time to make a big decision. Stay in Detroit and send our kids to Detroit schools, which had become dysfunctional? Drive our kids many miles to private schools in the suburbs? Or move?

In 1989, Ross Roy, the long-time downtown Detroit ad agency that I was then working for, relocated to Bloomfield Hills. And we moved even farther north to Clarkston where the public schools had an excellent reputation.

Once again I was living in a virtually all white community.

We lived in Clarkston for 20 years. As I attended local high school football and basketball games over that time, I began to notice an increasing number of black players on the mostly suburban teams in Clarkston’s league. And I recalled that when we moved out of Detroit, it wasn’t just white families that were leaving the city, many middle class black families left for the suburbs, too.

My children rarely met kids with black, brown or yellow skin in Clarkston. In fact, they rarely met kids with the kinds of last names--ending in “i” or “o” or “ski” or “wicz”--that I took for granted while growing up. But they met many such people in college and continue to do so in their respective careers. And I’m proud that they tend not to be judgmental of people with different skin colors.

After we lost our home due to an electrical fire in 2010, Debbie and I embarked on a new adventure that took us to Grand Haven in West Michigan. Heavy Dutch influence. Politically conservative. Predominantly white. During my first summer here, someone I met at a party referred to Detroit as “Detoilet.” Also, at estate sales and neighborhood functions, I was often asked whether I go to church--something I was not used to on the other side of the state. It’s a whole different vibe in West Michigan, to be sure.

We’re now into our eighth summer in Grand Haven, and even here you can see the changing face of America. There’s a family down the street whose daughter is marrying an African-American man this month. There’s a woman I know at the gym whose son married an African-American woman last month. And one day recently, a neighbor from the next street over stopped to talk while pushing a stroller and introduced me to his son’s twin boys. With their darkish skin color, dark hair and eyes, I assumed that they had an Indian or perhaps Pakistani   mother.

Such things were unheard of when I first visited Grand Haven in the early ‘70s.

I was inspired to write about what I’ve observed concerning the ever-changing face of America after shopping one evening at Westborn Market during a visit to Dearborn earlier this summer. When I walked into the store I felt as though I had entered into some sort of international marketplace. White people. Black people. Arabic people. Asian people. Indian people. The place was packed with people of color of all types. It was certainly not the “cake eaters’” market of my youth.

WHERE I COME OUT. I’ve been thinking about attitudes toward skin color since early childhood, when I first realized that there were black people who could speak Polish living on my grandparents’ block. As I look back on the past seven decades, here are five observations and my opinions about them:

Birds of a feather flock together. My grandparents lived in Polish enclaves. The Arab families I knew as a kid clustered in an area of Dearborn called “Salina.” In college, the black kids usually sat together in the grill and cafeteria. And rich people tend to reside in the same zip code. It’s a natural human tendency for people who share a common culture to congregate with their own kind. I get that. Yet I’ve always felt that if Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal desire to build their home next to Mr. and Mrs. Robin, they have every right to do so.

I was in perhaps the sixth grade when I first heard about school “busing” to achieve racial integration. Brilliant idea, thought my 12-year-old mind. But as a young man I reversed my position as I came to understand the vital importance of “neighborhood schools.” When moms and dads, no matter their color, give a serious damn about their kids’ education, they prefer to live close to their children’s schools, facilitating the parental involvement--school open houses; child progress meetings; attendance at plays, concerts and sporting events--that is so important to the successful education of their kids. Also, there were many times I ran into our children’s teachers at the bakery or Damman Hardware in Clarkston--everyday community encounters that enhanced a “connection” with their teachers. The chance of that happening with cross-district busing is far less likely. I would argue that whatever slim chance Detroit had to remain a viable major American city after the riots of ‘67 was killed by forced busing in the early-to-mid ‘70s. It caused the last of Detroit’s white middle class to say, “That’s it...we’re out of here.” Many black middle class families said the same. So, ultimately, the city was left to a population that was mostly poor and black. (Interestingly, Coleman Young, Detroit’s first black mayor, was an opponent of busing.)

No matter race, ethnicity, age or income level, most people make little effort to learn anything about the attitudes, interests or culture of the “other guy.” I’m far from being a hundred percent at it, but when I have done so the results have often been astounding. Such as the time I walked into a large Arabic market on Warren Avenue in East Dearborn a few years ago in search of the secret to making authentic Middle Eastern shawarma. When I showed sincere interest to doing so, I was escorted around the store and introduced to four or five different employees who filled my head with knowledge about Arabic spices and marinating techniques. I was the only “white person” in the store that day, but when I walked out the door I got high fives, slaps on the back, wishes of good luck--and big smiles--from every employee I encountered. I’ve had many similar experiences with black people when I’ve shown interest in their music, food, personal histories, etc. It’s amazing what you get back when you attempt to find out what the other guy is really all about. I would also add that being curious about or empathetic with “the other” should be a two-way street. If everyone--white, black, Hispanic, yellow, Arabic, native American, etc.--made small, incremental efforts to knock down the invisible barriers between us, it would be so much easier to coexist on this rapidly shrinking planet.

Diversity is infinitely more interesting than homogeneity. I could cite hundreds of personal experiences that cause me to feel this way. From listening to folk songs while sitting in a circle of Scotch people to eating kimchi with Korean folks in San Francisco. From drinking cherry-juice- infused spirytus with relatives in Poland to attempting to harmonize around the piano in a black family’s home in Toledo. From torching my tastebuds with sauteed jalapeno peppers in an authentic Mexican market in Pontiac to the youthful insights of the black North Carolina teenager who spends a part of every summer in the home across the street from us in Grand Haven. Diversity broadens horizons. Changes perspectives. Expands one’s view of the world. No matter where or with whom one ordinarily flocks, it’s highly beneficial, sez I, to get out and fly with birds of a different color.

We could really use a modern-day Henry Ford, someone with a not-yet-conceived, revolutionary new product--or process--that employs large numbers of ordinary workers and pays them a living wage to build it. That’s what Henry did when he introduced assembly line production to build the Model T and doubled the wage of his workers to $5 a day, putting them on the road to the middle class. Or maybe we need a modern-day Work Projects Administration (WPA) that employs unskilled people--and pays them enough to afford a dignified middle class life--to rebuild our roads, bridges, water lines, public transit systems, the entire U.S. infrastructure. Because I now think that racially segregated poverty persists more due to economic inequality than any other factor. There are available jobs galore in the fast food industry, tourism, hospitality, health care and more. But they’re jobs that don’t pay enough to secure a middle class life. And it is now generally accepted that the single greatest predictor of a student’s achievement and eventual economic success is household income. I used to think that education was the key to lifting up the poverty stricken-- whether black, brown, white, whatever--into the middle class. But while the American population is more educated than ever before, the canyon between rich and poor has only widened over the last 40 years.

Like everyone else, I have opinions. These have been mine about racial issues. I’ve never lived in a ghetto. I haven’t had much interplay with Hispanics. I’ve never been poor. And I claim no special expertise in matters regarding attitudes toward skin color. I’m just one guy who has been watching, thinking about these things for a very long time. I probably won’t be around to see America become a majority-minority country. I only hope that when it inevitably happens that all people of all skin colors will do a better job of negotiating those invisible barriers on that two-way street I spoke of earlier.

[antitheticalsymbiosis-blog]

Busy, Busy, Busy [Year 0, Day 2]

Hey everyone! Today was a pretty rough day, as I had little to no time to work on anything game development related... Although I did get some Coursera work completed that I’ll talk to you about after my day at... WORK: Most of my day was spent working at one of my audiovisual contractor’s site, a private charter school in Southern California. I spent a good 7 hours installing, organizing, and testing a wireless transmitter/receiver system for large musical performances and other equally-taxing events. The hot desert sun beat down pretty hard on me today...

Despite this, we (my manager and I) did get a good test in of all our equipment for a “The Greatest Showman”-style event that the school is putting on. The requirements are fairly minimal: 12 wireless belt-pack transmitters sending musical-style singing to our system while we have area mics to pick up choruses downstage. We tested the Shure BLX4R transmitter/receiver pairs and checked a variety of frequency issues we’ve had in the past. Luckily, it seems the new hardware will suffice! I’ve never had to do so much manual screwing and unscrewing of rack-mountable units in my life... :D

AFTER WORK:

My time after work was spent preparing for the holiday break (Thanksgiving is only hours away at the writing of this post 0.0) and spending time with my fiancee, who I feel bad about unintentionally ignoring lately due to our opposite schedules (she works the graveyard shift). After grabbing a bite to eat and sending her off to work, I got to work on some homework that was due tonight on:

COURSERA WORK:

After submitting my week 2 assignment for the Intro to Game Design course I’m in, I needed to do my mandatory reviewing of at least 3 assignments submitted by my peers. Luckily (or unfortunately, depending on your viewpoint), the homework assignments for this course have been EXTREMELY low maintenance, usually requiring only about an hour of work total for the entire week’s lectures and assignments. The assignment for this week consisted of making some small revisions to our “Paper-Based Game” that was assigned as week 1′s homework assignment, in which the revisions focused on clarifying the game’s rules and being aware of how they were communicated to the player. In addition, we were asked to think about other small revisions that may make the game mechanics more balanced in terms of difficulty and entertainment.  My game, titled “Rip ‘n’ Roll,” is a variation on the principles and physics of classic Skiball carnival-based games, in which a player tries to score points by rolling a ball up a slope to earn points before the timer is up! 

Since our first assignment was to create a paper-based game that consisted of only 1 page and optional 2d6 (two 6-sided die), I had wanted to get the most bang for my buck and create a game that is challenging, entertaining, and clever in design using only the paper to play a game that seems inherently physical. The two images below are my final result for week 2:

All weird final cropping angles aside (I can’t believe I let that sit in the final submission...I need to fix that), I made some small revisions to the rules, notably the addition of the Too easy? section. In addition, I changed the point values in the concentric ring section of the game board to smaller values so that the 10 tries put a tiny bit more pressure on the player.  As a quick introduction to the game, here’s...

RIP ‘N’ ROLL!: 

The game mainly utilizes the physics of flicking to guide a small paper ball (that you RIP and roll up ;) into specific areas of the game board and score points. The game was meant to be played on 3-ring binder paper, so the three binder-ring holes define the auto-win feature of the game. Otherwise, the player must score 1,000 points. I believe the most satisfying element of the game comes from the option to customize your game board however you see fit: folding it in half long-ways or short-ways, creating ridges, or just crumpling it up! (Like I did after the first draft c:)

The game was created using scans of 3-ring college-ruled binder paper and my TERRIBLE Photoshop skills. Using the curvature pen tool, I created some basic, lopsided curves for the concentric circle part of the board. Then I used the ellipses tool to create the various scoring regions of the board’s initially flat surface. I’ve honestly learned quite a lot from this simple, simple game. c:

MOVING FORWARD:

I’m really excited to continue down this arduous path of game development, but it can be pretty intimidating at times. I’ve encountered countless others who all have INCREDIBLE game design ideas and even more who are actually developing indie titles across the interwebs. The sheer amount of technical knowledge the entire field holds is quite astounding, and it’s even more impressive when you take into account all of the hobbyist/indie developers who can easily compete with certain AAA companies in terms of dedicated fan base. This is festering intimidation has a quite beautiful underside though, with countless developers and hobbyists willing to help any newcomer learn the ropes (or rather, learn that they don’t know S%#^!#). I’m fortunate enough to be surrounded by a few mentors who really know how to teach, in addition to wanting to teach the next generation of developers.  It’s only a matter of time before I’ll find myself in their shoes. Only a matter of time... EXTRA: Game of the Day - Disgaea 1 Complete (again...):

I got to play about 30 minutes of it today and a WHOLE BUNCH yesterday! I’ve finally moved past one part of a specific scenario I was stuck on, so I’m extremely eager to see what ridiculously charming and witty commentary this scenario holdsssss.  Have a good Thanksgiving everyone! I will be spending it thinking about all the ways in which imperialistic white Europeans %$&@’d up America and respectfully mourning with my Native American relatives... =.=

[splatattackz]

and theres a tragedy in the house just a block or two down. where a kid wearing a decorative mustache sleeps so peacefully. unaware of the book you hold in your hands. and that kid is your son. the one you care for so deeply. the one you know youll lose. and it hurts you to care, hurts you to love but you have so much of both to give. its something you havent felt in ages. something you wish you had never felt again.

that kid is so unaware of why youre here. why you sit in front of a computer now desperate to send a message outwards to no avail. unaware of why you fear for your life everyday - wholly unaware that fear is all youve ever known. for even men cower when faced with bedrock on all sides.

the kid is unaware that after everything you still will care for him. and its a gut-wrenching care only you know. its the way your stomach turns when you hold him just knowing one day he wont hug back. and its a love only you can give. because there is a love so tragic when you care for someone and know theyre gonna die because you care so much.

there is no avoiding it.

there is a tragedy just one or two blocks down of the boy who sleeps so peacefully and the dad who wants nothing more than to love him.