#and he was smart enough to sell his mom’s jewelry for money
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myfairkatiecat · 7 months ago
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theveryworstthing · 4 years ago
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So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.
The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.
I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.
Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.
10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.
The Parents
From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.
Or while it was still bleeding.
If she was into that.
Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.
Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.
And he always gets his due.
He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.
Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~
Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.
Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.
This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.
Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?
Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.
Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.
What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.
Mortesha would know.
The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.
Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.
The Children
Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.
Anyway.
Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!
Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.
Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.
I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.
Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.
She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.
Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.
Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  
That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.
Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.
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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years ago
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playing with fire (part 1)
word count: 23k
fluff, smut (warning: age gap, infidelity, roommate’s father)
(series masterlist)
“is there any other way you could pay?” the woman behind the desk asked, stout and soft spoken with sympathy in her eyes.
she probably has to have this conversation with students a lot, tell them that their tuition payment didn’t go through or that they’re not eligible for government support.
or that the athletics department needed more scholarship money, successfully rendering you, one of the many photography majors on campus, unable to pay for your last semester of college.
“a loan of some sort or another scholarship, maybe?” she tried to help, “i could send over an e-mail of ones you might be eligible for.”
you swallow the lump forming in your throat, attempting to calm all the anxiety and stress violently making its way through your body.
“y-yes, that would be great, thank you,” you barely manage to get out, hoping and praying to some unknown force above that you don’t burst into tears.
you were nearing the end of the fall semester, the last fall semester you ever anticipated of having, when you found out just last week that you were no longer eligible for your scholarship.
in a short, curt e-mail explaining that, while you kept up your gpa and never strayed from the requirements, they’ve maxed out their amount of funding and are looking to use that money elsewhere.
“can they do that!?” your best friend and roommate of four years yelps, gucci sunglasses atop her head as she stomps around your shared, off-campus apartment.
“they can’t seriously do that! you’ve been a straight a student since you started and now they wanna take it away?! before your last semester of senior year?!”
“eunbi, it’s not ideal but i’ve already come to terms with it,” you explain gently, leaving out the part where you did, in fact, have a break down right outside the bursar office only an hour ago. “i’ll just save up money and come back in the fall to finish.”
“that’s so not right or fair though!” she whines, something about the concept of not getting what she wants unfamiliar to your roommate.
you first met park eunbi during freshmen move in day, your two raggedy luggages and beat up backpacks an embarrassing contrast to the multiple louis vuitton travel bags she lunged in.
you were intimidated for all of three seconds, before she looked at you with a smile and threw her arms around you like a long lost best friend.
it was obvious she came from money, the way she spoke and carried herself so confidently before her parents came in and introduced themselves.
they were both gorgeous and tall and looked far too young to have an 18-year-old daughter, covered in fancy jewelry and expensive looking clothing.
her dad, who introduced himself as mr. park seonghwa, didn’t seem to bat an eye at your more humble appearance. he reminded you a lot of eunbi, honest and genuine in the way he was kind and nonjudgemental.
mrs. park seemed nice enough, too, though you could see the judgement behind her pretty eyes.
the way she sneered at your bags and looked down at your hands, so different from her and her daughter’s not covered in diamond bracelets or acrylic nails.
“did we just miss your parents?” she asked, her voice just as pretty and rich sounding as she appeared; you bet if she laughed, she’d had have that melodic, care-free laugh all rich women seem to have.
“oh, uh, yeah, i’m sorry,” you apologized, lying through your teeth with a shy smile and averting gaze - you had to move in by yourself, the same way you traveled here all alone with no one to send you off.
“it’s okay, we just thought it’d be nice to meet them,” eunbi’s father interjects, the smile on his handsome face causing your stomach to swoop - how is he a dad?
“we were gonna take eunbi to an early dinner before we left. do you wanna join us?”
“oh no, it’s okay, i’d hate to intru-”
“no, you’re coming, c’mon!” your new roommate whined, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the door. “we’ll be able to get a lot of dessert out of them. probably the whole menu if we wanted.”
and you saw that over the years, eunbi knew she could, in fact, get whatever she wanted from her parents. they had the money and the means and the fondness in their hearts for their only daughter.
but it never seemed to get to your friend.
she was always kind and thoughtful of others and never said or did anything to suggest she was just a brainless, spoiled rich kid.
even in your guy’s second year when she found out you were going to school on an academic scholarship, she didn’t care. she didn’t turn her nose up or think you were lesser than her for not having the funds; if anything, it only made her praise you more.
that you were smart and ambitious enough to work under the strict guidelines of a prestigious scholarship.
“i know it’s not fair,” you mumble, not wanting to cry or have another anxiety attack over this matter. “but it is what it is. i’ll figure it out.”
she lets out a dejected, defeated sigh so uncharacteristic of the girl, plopping down on her pink, fluffy bed and bringing you down with her.
“we’ll sell feet pics over winter break,” she concludes after a few minutes of silence, wrapping her arm around yours and curling her body into yours. “you know how much money we can get from that? and we have pretty feet,” she says, sticking her leg up and wiggling her red, painted toes.
there’s a little less tightness in your chest and a little heaviness lifted in your stomach as you let out a giggle, looking over at your best friend who truly got you through the last four years of school.
you really don’t know how you’d still be functioning if it weren’t for her.
“you’re sick.”
“i’m serious,” she giggles out, flipping on her side and causing the bed to bounce under you. “you’re still good with coming tomorrow, right? i told my parents you were.”
she had invited you to her house for the winter break this year, the girl not wanting you to spend a month alone in the apartment.
you’ve shared with her how strained your relationship with your parents has been, really, since birth. never seeing eye to eye to them and feeling as if they never had your best interests at heart.
when most kids get full ride scholarships, their parents are immensely proud. bragging about how smart they are and telling them how proud they were.
but your parents were the opposite.
they didn’t want you to up and leave them to pursue an education. they thought you were gonna stay with them forever, not go to college like them and help run the family business back home in your tiny little hometown.
it was your dream to go to college and get a degree, though, so that’s exactly what you did for yourself; but they saw it as a giant fuck you.
saw it as you thinking you were better than them and basically told you to never come back if you thought you were so much smarter and better off without them.
so you’d spent every winter or summer vacation in the dorms, this year finally being the time you accepted eunbi’s invitation to stay over - reluctantly.
“i packed all my stuff, yeah,” you mumble, hands twisted into one another nervously. “but... are you sure they’re okay with it? i don’t wanna intrude or be there if i’m not wanted.”
“y/n, please,” she whines, “my mom may be a raging bitch but you know i make the rules in that house.”
“that’s not what i meant,” you mutter immediately, looking to the girl with a small frown on your lips.
although it was no secret eunbi’s mom didn’t ever seem too fond of you, always sneering at your off-brand items or questioning the logistics of why exactly you needed a scholarship to afford college, you always tried to remain polite.
smile at her and greet her happily even though there was always a thick, palpable tension between you two.
“oh but it is,” she chuckles out, the girl far too aware of what a materialistic snob her mother is. “it’s fine, i know she’s a bitch. my dad’s just coming tomorrow anyway. i told him to bring one of the bigger cars so we can lay out in the back.”
you have to bite back a snarky comment about the fact there are multiple cars in question, though the look in your eye certainly gives it away. she can only giggle and shrug her shoulders, flopping onto her back as she tells you about how excited she is to be reunited with her boyfriend.
eunbi and jiwoon have been dating since their second year of high school, going to colleges only an hour away from each other; he was just as handsome as he was kind and good to her, leaving you with no other option but to love and support the both of them.
and you try to listen to her rambling that ensues, you really do, but your mind is swirling with some slight anxiety about staying with her family for a month.
you don’t wanna make her mom even more irritated, deal with the side eyes and passive aggressive comments and overall feeling of just not being wanted.
you don’t want eunbi to feel obligated to be with you 24/7, act as a cock block to her and her boyfriend who haven’t seen each other in almost six weeks.
and maybe, you don’t want your tiny, small, miniscule crush on mr. park to make you feel any more awkward than it does, wondering how a married man who has a daughter in college is still so handsome and alluring.
it also doesn’t help that he’s just so incredibly kind, always making everyone feel so comfortable and welcomed, it’d be hard not to just develop a little, secret crush on him.
“eunbi, who is that sexy ass man who just dropped you off?” one of your suite mates asks your roommate, everyone gathering back in front of the dorm building after winter break.
it was sophomore year and you spent a month in the quiet, almost eerie college dorms alone (apart from the ra down the hall). you were grateful for everyone to return, no matter how loud or catty things were about to become.
“yeah, for real. is that your new boyfriend? he’s hotter than the last one and i didn’t even think that was possible.”
“uhhh.. no,” eunbi says, shooting the crowd of girls with lustful eyes and curious glances a look of distaste. “that’s my dad.”
and that’s when a chorus of disbelief and inappropriate comments erupted from the group of college girls.
asking how a dad could look like that while hoping and praying he’s single.
inquiring about just how much her dad’s on campus and when’s the next time he’s gonna pick her up.
about how he’s definitely hotter than her boyfriend, with a more mature and sophisticated look than these college boys.
“are they fucking serious! like how disgusting? he’s my literal father!” eunbi rages once in the dorm room, sharing a few curse words and vulgar phrases at the girl’s before stomping away from them.
“and for them to say that shit in front of me? did they think i want to hear that?”
“i know, that was so sick,” you agree, because even though you, too, think he’s attractive, it’s not something you would ever verbalize to your friend.
“like... i know he’s younger than most dads, my parents had me when they were teenagers, but shit! how sick,” she rants, throwing down her heavy designer bags and flopping on her bed.
you can tell by the look on her face how much it truly bothers her, everyone always noticing her dad and making comments like that. she handles it well, she’s always able to handle herself well, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s something that worries her.
people getting close to her to get to her dad, even if it was teachers or other moms in elementary school or her friends when she got to college.
it’s one of the many reasons you would never give away your little crush on him - because it’s not only inappropriate and uncomfortable for her to know but there’s also no need to tell her.
because it’s not like it would go anywhere.
he’s a married man and your roommate’s father, a twisted, dark, forbidden fantasy that will stay in the walls of your head and never see the light of day - no matter how thrilling and fulfilling being with him would be.
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“eunbi, your dad’s gonna be here soon,” you yell into your roommate’s doorway, met with the sound of her groaned “five more minutes!” that you’ve been hearing for the past twenty.
she was on facetime with jiwoon when you went to bed around one, briefly waking to the sound of her girlish screams or high-pitched giggles three hours later; you wouldn’t be surprised if she only went to bed a few hours ago.
“you said five more minutes thirty minutes ago,” you say, stomping your way over before smacking her over the head with a pillow. she lets out a loud sigh before swatting you away, your surprisingly fast reflexes grabbing her wrist.
she peeks one eye open as a smirk covers her morning face, looking from you all dressed up and ready in your pink pleated skirt and white thigh high stockings, down to her wrist in your hold.
“that was kinda hot. and you look good. i don’t know how to act right now.”
“shut up and get your ass out of bed,” you demand, biting back a smile as you storm out of her room.
you’d been pacing around the apartment ever since you woke up at seven a.m., more and more unsettled about staying over her house as the time drew closer.
you checked to make sure you had enough clothes and chargers and skincare products for nearly an hour, finally settling the same purple suitcase you moved in with freshmen year near the door.
you hope mrs. park doesn’t notice, remembering the way she sneered at the wonky zipper and slightly stained bottom.
you also hope you can keep yourself in check, not get too nervous or flustered by eunbi’s exorbitant wealth or a new setting you don’t feel welcomed in or her hot ass father whose bones you wanna jump.
the knock at the door completely sobers you, jumping in your spot just in time to see eunbi fly across the living room to get to the door. there’s a big, happy smile on her face, ripping open the door and greeting her father in typical eunbi fashion.
“are those for me?” she asks, snatching the red box from his hands.
excitement bubbles inside the girl as she unveils twelve chocolate covered strawberries, a speciality at one of the local dessert shops just a few miles from her home.
“you shouldn’t have, dad, really. i’m much too tired to appreciate this.”
the man can only look at his daughter with a look of disdain and affection, waking up to an extremely passive aggressive text that she’d really appreciate an early morning treat from her favorite place ever and that it’d really inspire her to be ready.
but as he can currently see, given the state of her hair and pajamas pants, it didn’t at all act as a motivator.
“then maybe i should just-” but upon her father’s hand reaching out to grab the box of strawberries, the girl brings it to her body and runs away, yelling that her bags are packed and she’s just gonna wash her face.
he looks to you with a mock annoyed expression, your heart jumping in your chest as you send him a small, polite smile.
“how do you deal with her, y/n?” he asks, a smirk on his face rising as you let out a soft, slightly forced giggle - this man looks too good for his own good at ten o’clock in the morning.
“don’t talk shit about me!” she yelps before you can even think to say something, a smile lighting up his face again before he nods his head down the hall.
“i’ll bring down your girl’s bags,” he says, his tall, large frame coming toward you making your knees feel slightly wobbly.
you swear you see his eyes roam over you for the shortest of seconds, down to your shirt and exposed legs before back to your face, until he’s looking into your eyes questioningly.
totally not like someone who just checked out their daughter’s roommate - this is what you feared, your own delusionals and attraction making your crazy little brain see something that’s not there.
“her bedroom’s down that hall?”
you resist the urge to swallow nervously, begging yourself to snap out of it and remind yourself you have to deal with the man for a month. a month of his dark, piercing eyes and bright, white smile and skin so smooth and clear, it’s far too easy to forget he’s almost forty years old.
“yeah,” you barely manage to get out. “i-i can help and bring down mine.”
“no, it’s okay,” he insists, “help in getting eunbi ready. you know she’ll delay us thirty more minutes.”
you let out another strained chuckle as you nod your head, finally letting out the breath you’ve been holding when you hear his footsteps disappear down the hall and into her room.
as long as you distance yourself from him, not look him in the eye or let any sort of idea get in your head that an older, married man could want you back, this will be fine.
it’ll be a nice, calm, relaxed break actually full of interaction and socialization opposed to your usual lonely bubble of solitude.
eunbi’s not making that very easy though, when twenty minutes later, she’s opening the back door of her father’s black g-wagen and sprawling out on the black leather seats.
“where’s y/n supposed to go, eunbi?” seonghwa asked, the fatherly tone is his voice causing eunbi to let out a huff; the only time you see eunbi’s spoiled tendencies come out is around her father, the girl knowing he’ll do anything and everything for her.
and apparently, so will you.
sitting in the front seat of her car, next to her extremely hot father you’re trying to stay calm around, while she sleeps soundly in the backseat - if she didn’t invite to stay at her home, meals and bed and transportation free, you’d say she has to owe you.
“was she up all night talking to jiwoon?” mr. park asked, the past few moments of silence just as comforting as they were terrifying. it felt awkward to you, extremely tense and full of suspense, but you knew it was completely normal.
you bite down on your lip, looking back at eunbi sleeping soundly on the seat, even prepared with a fuzzy white blanket. you let out a soft giggle when you see her mouth open, the slightest bit of drool hanging from her mouth and threatening to spill on the dark leather.
“she might’ve been,” you mutter, a breathy laugh leaving her father that causes you to sneak a glance at him.
there’s not a hint of a wrinkle or imperfection on his glowing skin, black hair hanging in his face and red lips quirked into a content smile. that’s something you always noticed about him, despite his dark appearance and looming figure, he always appears to be happy.
smiles and laughs and never gives anyone without his same wealth a dirty glance - he treats everyone the same and that’s another reason you’ve taking a liking to him, not just because he’s the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life.
“y/n?” he asks, your intrusive thoughts being ripped away at the sound of his voice calling your name.
your eyes move to his and he’s watching you in slight amusement, a rampant blush creeping up on your cheeks at the way you’ve been caught. you’re quick to look away, shake your head and let out an awkward chuckle and apology.
you miss the way his eyes roam your side profile, a delightful smirk and feeling in his chest blooming before he speaks again.
“how was your semester?”
“it was good,” you say, hands placed nervously in your lap. “a lot of work on top of an internship but it was good.”
“and you girls are almost done,” he hums lowly, one hand atop the steering wheel while his eyes focus on the highway in front of him. “eunbi’s been talking about a combined graduation party since the moment you guys met.”
you let out a small laugh as you remember eunbi’s plan since your second semester of freshmen year, ignoring the twinge of sadness in your stomach.
you could’ve never anticipated delaying your college career when you first received your scholarship, happy and proud and eternally grateful for the opportunity.
but you suppose you’re lucky enough to have gotten this far, and delaying one last semester is nothing compared to people who never get to go to college - but it still makes you feel upset.
you think you have the right to feel disappointed and sad, the lingering sick feeling in your stomach making you feel nauseous.
“is it okay if i open the window for a second?” you mumble to mr. park, the man looking over your face.
he presses down on the passenger window button immediately, your face met with cold air as relief floods through your body.
“are you okay? do you get car sick?” he asks, remembering how much eunbi used to get car sick (on the rare occasion she wasn’t passed out during a road trip).
“not usually,” you mumble, resting your head on the side of the door.
then again, i’m not usually freaking out about making tuition money or repressing my violent attraction to my roommate’s father.
seonghwa watches as you close your eyes for a few moment, allowing the cold, windy air to hit your face. he couldn’t help but notice the pinkish tint to your cheeks, suppressing the urge for his eyes and thoughts to wander.
you’re a college girl in the prime of her life and his daughter’s best friend, he’d be a fool to think you were blushing and nervous because of him - but he also doesn’t remember you looking like.... this.
so pretty and dressed up and pink in the face as you check him out with a soft and curious look in your eye.
“maybe try to take a nap,” he suggests, his gaze lingering back onto the road so he doesn’t look at your exposed legs. “i’ll pull off at a rest stop to get you ginger ale.”
“that’s not necessary, mr. park,” your sweet voice says, something about it causing his insides to jump - he definitely doesn’t remember you sounding like that. “i’ll be okay. just need the window open for a little longer.”
you spend the next few minutes with the cold, december wind blowing through the car, your back pressed against the comfortable seat behind you. a chill runs through your body, goosebumps rising on your exposed thighs, but it feels better than the alternative.
potentially panicking or vomiting due to current stress of your life.
your gaze shifts to the man beside you, whether it be to check him out or ask if he’s cold unknown to you.
“are you okay with the-”
the words are stuck in your throat when you see his eyes aren’t on the road but your exposed, goose-bumpy thighs, the white lace of your thigh high stockings and pink skirt leaving little to the imagination.
you wish you could see the look in his eye, if it’s judgemental and shameful or full of lust and curiosity. if he’s wondering what you have on just a few inches under your skirt and if that’s something he even thinks about.
or maybe he’s just looking because it’s there - your skirt blowing in the wind and him caught off guard by the sight right there in his passenger seat.
“um, i think i’m good now,” you mumble, watching from your peripheral as he shifts in his seat and tightens his hold on the steering wheel.
“alright, let me know if you wanna stop.”
you bite down on your lip as you nod your head, keeping your eyes on the view in front of you.
the faint sounds of eunbi snoring behind you act as a way to ground you, remind you that these thoughts and feelings you’re having can’t stay.
maybe you have to get it our of your system now, take all the looks you can and feel all the hopefulness your delusional brain needs until you act as if eunbi’s father is a mean, disgusting, grotesque man.
not someone who gets your heart and body pounding.
you’re not sure how many songs play on the radio until you both are talking again, seonghwa looking in the rearview mirror to see his daughter still passed out on the seats.
“do you think she’ll sleep the whole time?”
he hope for his sake, she doesn’t.
you look back at eunbi sleeping soundly, the drool previously trickling down her mouth successfully making a pool on the black leather.
“probably,” you chuckle out lightly. “i have a feeling she went to bed around six.”
“shit,” he laughs out, remembering the days he used to be able to pull all nighters in college or dreaded the idea of waking up in the morning. “i can’t remember the last time i was able to stay up past one.”
“you’re not even that old, mr. park,” you tease, not sure where you got the balls to say that and feeling, at least for a few seconds, that you overstepped; but then he lets out a deep, amused chuckle and it causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach.
“not that old, huh?” he quips, your tooth sinking into your lip at the tone of his voice. “you know i’m turning 40 in a few months, right?”
you crane your neck to look at the man in the driver’s seat, swallowing thickly when you see his eyes are already on you. there’s a certain type of lightness and teasing in them that you’ve never seen before, the man always happy and jovial but never like this.
never looking so... teasing and playful.
“yeah,” you say with a growing smirk, not being able to help your own nervous excitement. “that doesn’t seem too bad.”
the deep, low chuckle that leaves him causes your stomach to swoop, eyes wide and the small smile on your face causing him to look over you once more.
it’s shameless and bold but neither of you seem to care in that moment.
“i’ll keep that in mind,” he says, deep brown eyes piercing through yours before his face turns teasing and.. appropriate.. “the next time eunbi tries to call me an old man or something.”
“right,” you chuckle out, cheeks burning and heart pounding as you allow yourself to break eye contact.
the ride to eunbi’s house is just over two hours, hoping and praying that it goes by quickly - because you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to be alone, or mostly alone, with him.
you’re thinking too much into his words and his gaze and the way he makes you feel, making you silly enough to believe that, maybe, a part of him wants you too.
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the second you arrived at eunbi’s, you had already felt unwelcomed.
not only because of mrs. park, who just about sneered at your presence in her exquisite home, but because of the dozens of other socialites in the immaculately white living room.
it looked and felt almost like a hospital. a white color scheme with black accents, extremely cold and spotless - the only bit of color was in eunbi’s room where it felt like you could actually breathe.
“i’m sorry, i told her not to throw her fucking gathering today,” eunbi complained, grumpy from her nap but still happy to finally be home.
“a bunch of stuck up snobs, i swear to god. they either have to get the stick lodged so far up their asshole removed or get dicked down by their lousy excuses of-”
“eunbi,” you hear her father’s deep voice reprimand, the girl not even feeling the slightest bit of shame or embarrassment for talking that way in front of her father.
“oh, c’mon, dad, you know it’s true!” she whines in a whispered tone. “they’re the worst! and she knew me and y/n were coming today, do you really think that wasn’t a coincidence?”
because, as far as eunbi thinks, she has sinking suspicions that her mom did this solely to make you uncomfortable.
she had already been hesitant to let you stay in the first place, had eunbi not gone full on bitch mode and stubbornly proclaimed she’d spend the break with you at the apartment.
but you didn’t have to know that.
“i don’t care, it’ll just be my first christmas without my family, mom, who cares about that,” she had said, all types of manipulative and toxic behavior that she learned from the best.
she’s sure her mother was sweet and good at one point in her life, she wouldn’t have ended up with her father in the first place if she wasn’t, but money changes people.
wealth and greed and having the power to get anything you want because you flash a stack of money around or write out a check.
“i told her to have them out by dinner,” he said, his eyes moving from eunbi to you, standing there with tense shoulders and a shy, uncomfortable look on your face.
“you’re more than welcomed here, y/n,” he said, his voice low and full of kindness as he stands in eunbi’s doorway. “don’t worry about it, okay?”
you resist the urge to pout at the touched feeling in your chest, looking from the man to eunbi who’s nodding at her dad’s words.
“thank you, mr. park,” you say, a phrase he swears has never effected him this deeply.
and because of that, he’s quick to haul ass out of there. tells you guys that dinner will be ready around seven and to come down whenever.
you and eunbi spend that time in her room to unpack both of your things and watch movies, her king sized bed nearly lulling you to sleep until her loud squeal and bounce of the bed causes you to jump in shock.
“y/n, don’t be mad at me please,” she whines directly in your face, all wide-eyed and cutesy as she looks at you with mock innocence.
“what did you do?” you mumble tiredly, pushing her away with the smallest of sneers.
“i’ll be back for dinner, i promise, but... is it okay if i go to jiwoon’s for a little?” she asks, cocking her head to the side before shimming closer to you. “i have to get railed so bad.”
“jesus christ, eunbi,” you snort, pushing her away again and burying your face in the pillow - you’ve never met someone who overshares as much as she does.
she plops down on her back with an unabashed giggle, popping right back up like an annoying little dog and looking at you with a smile.
“of course you can go, i’m not gonna hold you hostage here,” you say when she pulls your face away, looking at you so expectantly and sweetly, you couldn’t say no if you wanted.
“okay, but i don’t want you thinking that i’m gonna ditch you this whole time. i’m really not, y/n,” she pouts, knowing that was one of the reasons you were apprehensive about coming - that and her bitch of a mother. “i just miss him.”
a pout falls on your face as you look at eunbi and the genuine look on her face.
“bi, i’m serious, go. i want you to,” you insist, moving a piece of her tangled hair away from her face. “we were just gonna be up here anyway. i’ll probably take a nap, i was about to fall asleep before your loud ass-”
“thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says, pulling you into a tight hug before jumping off her bed and rushing toward her door. “i’ll be back a lot more calm and happy. oh, why, you ask? because i’m about to get my back blown the fuck ou-”
you thank god for your impeccable aim, promptly whacking eunbi in the face with one of her pillows.
“get out of here,” you groan, eunbi throwing the pillow back with a smile on her face.
“sweet dreams, y/n!”
you let out a sigh when she closes her door, falling back onto her bed with a soft plop.
you were definitely tired from your anxious pacing this morning but aren’t sure how much sleep you’re gonna get right now, tonight or for the rest of the month.
knowing that you’re unwelcomed by one person, extremely attracted to another and silently betraying the person you should be most loyal too - but as long as it just stays in your head, and you remind yourself that there’s no way mr. park could feel anything back to you, it’ll be fine.
you’ll just get by quietly and smoothly at dinners or in passing through the hallways, enjoy eunbi’s comfortable king-sized bed and the fact that you don’t have to spend yet another holiday alone.
reruns of drake and josh play in the background, keeping your giggles quiet as drake soaks his feet in lizard pee. you feel your eyes grow heavy the more episodes you watch, the shitty laugh track and loud, bickering brothers eventually lulling you to sleep.
it takes about five knocks on the door to eventually stir you, your eyes fluttering open to see mr park’s figure in the doorway. you can only stare at the man as you adjust to him, taking in his tall, slim figure just a few feet away from you.
taking in the way his white shirt clings to his body, broad shoulders and slim torso on display in a way that makes you wish you could see, just for a second, what he looks like underneath that a-
“sorry if i woke you,” his deep voice hums, the slightest bit of amusement in his voice that causes your cheeks to warm. “i didn’t think you’d be sleeping at seven p.m.”
“no, it’s okay,” you stammer out, sitting up in eunbi’s bed. “i... i don’t even know when i fell asleep, to be honest.”
he looks at the screen to see drake and josh playing, a smirk pulling at his lips as his gaze shifts back to you.
“it’s funny,” you defend with a mumble, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth that causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach - he’s far too handsome, everything about him is just far too attractive, even in his laugh.
“that’s what eunbi claims,” he says, remembering all the years of his daughter forcing him to watch ridiculous shows.
despite his daughter’s outgoing nature, she never had a lot of friends growing up.
there was once a small group of girls she hung out but they quickly drifted apart throughout high school, leaving eunbi really only with him and her boyfriend.
the boyfriend who seonghwa really didn’t wanna like out of principal but seeing that the kid really does love his daughter quickly coming around.
“speaking of, where is she? jiwoon’s?”
“yeah,” you tell him, settling back into the pillows and stretching your arms out in front of you. “she said she’d be back for dinner.”
“well she’s wrong, as usual, because dinner’s ready,” he quips playfully, the smirk pulling at his lips causing you to smile back at him. you swallow nervously when his eyes roam over your face, your own gaze trained on him before you see his mouth start to move again.
“do you want me to bring some up for you? or you’ll come down?”
he can see the apprehension on your face immediately, fear crossing your eyes and your arms folding into each other uncomfortably. he tries to ignores the way your soft white sweater dips by your chest, a hint of perky cleavage just barely showing that causes his dick to twitch in his pants.
he doesn’t know when this happened.
he didn’t know when he became a pervy old man who checked out college girls with his wife just downstairs and the knowledge that you’re his daughter’s friend.
“i’ll come down,” you say, surprising him just as he was about to insist he brings some up for you. “she’ll probably be back soon anyway.”
but five minutes pass by, then ten, then twenty and eunbi’s still not home - it’s just you, seonghwa and mrs. park at the long, glass dining room table.
white chairs with high backs and comfortable cushions to match the immaculate, hospital-like color scheme and environment; truthfully, you’ve never been more terrified to eat a plate of chicken parmesan in your life.
the sound of utensils scraping on the china and the crackling of the fireplace a room over are the only noises heard throughout the home, mrs. park taking a swig of wine and gently placing it on the table with a light clack.
“so, y/n,” she finally says, breaking the tension with her rich-sounding, nasally voice. “how has school been, dear? you’re an... art major, am i remembering that correctly?”
“uh, photography, yeah,” you smile tensely, trying to ignore the judgment in her voice.
“ah, so you never switched over to business then,” she hums, her wine glass back in hand as her dark, gorgeous eyes look you over.
you bite the inside of your cheek as you feel a pink flush cover your face, faintly remembering your roommate saving you a few semesters ago when her mom was grilling you about picking a more practical and useful major.
“she can do whatever she wants, mom,” eunbi eventually snapped, “whether she does business or photography or even liberal arts is none of your business.”
“no,” you mutter out, dropping your gaze to look over the intricate pattern on the table. “i thought about it but it wasn’t something i wanted.”
“so you didn’t want something practical? or useful?” she asks, using those two words yet again while cocking her head to the side with a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
“a business degree would’ve been great, y/n. everyone always has connections to somewhere, you could’ve found a job right out of college.”
you bite back the urge to tell her no. that not everyone has connections to multi billion dollar companies or numbers of ceos in their phones or the ceo of a tech company as their next door neighbors.
but instead, the same way eunbi defended you against her mother, seonghwa does against his wife. gives you a soft, sympathetic side eye before placing his larger hand on his wife’s.
“there are tons of jobs in photography too, honey,” seonghwa says, his voice so warm and soft and welcoming compared to hers even despite the slight edge in it.
“and she can travel to build her portfolio. it’s a fantastic opportunity to explore the world and make money. is there a particular type of photography you’d wanna do?”
you feel yourself relax slightly, a small smile on your face as you nod your head toward the striking couple.
“i would love to be a wedding photographer actually,” you mumble, a romantic at heart who’s read and watched far too many novels and romcoms.
“taking pictures of all those moments would be really fun, i think. like when the groom sees the bride for the first time or just everyone dancing and having fun. weddings are usually happy and i like to photography happy things.”
“that sounds perfect for you then,” seonghwa smiles, his brown eyes lighting up and making you feel even more at ease.
“i think you’ll do great, y/n. and you only have a semester left, right? maybe you and eunbi you could travel for the summer before you start your jobs.”
you ignore the swish of dread and anxiety in your stomach at the mention of next semester, instead choosing to smile softly and nod your head at the man.
“i think she’d love that,” you giggle out, knowing damn well your roommate already has an extensive list of cities she wants to visit before ‘real life begins.’
“and how do your parents feel about everything?” mrs. park asks, making your stomach twist with even more dread and discomfort. “are they proud?”
you wish you could fold in on yourself right now, swallowing the growing, nervous lump in your throat.
because not only is she making you incredibly uncomfortable right now, with her harsh looks and topic of conversation and snide little tone, she just mentioned the people you haven’t spoken to since you left home at eighteen.
you don’t know what to say, you have the slightest bit of concern you might throw up on her, when the loud, chipper voice of your roommate floats through the cold, silent house.
“i’m back!” her chipper voice yelps, sock-clad feet running through the house and sliding on the marble floor. “what’d you guys make?”
“you’re late, eunbi,” seonghwa mumbles warningly, an innocent smile on her face as she picks up her plate of food and plops down next to you.
“am i? or are you girls just early?”
“i’m not a girl.”
“it’s a figure of speech, father,” eunbi says, smiling playfully at her father before turning to you.
she’s able to tell the second she sees your face that you’re uncomfortable, the pink flush still lingering on your face and the tenseness of your shoulders making her frown.
“i’m sorry you were alone with them,” she whispers, genuine sorrow in her wide, mock-innocent eyes. “i got held up. or... down, rather, but i tried to leave on time. i promise.”
“uh huh, i bet,” you mumble back, fighting back a smile despite your discomfort.
because eunbi has always had something about her that made it impossible to stay mad at her, her carefree, unfiltered way of communicating that made being her friend so easy.
even if, sometimes, you wanted to kill her.
“so mom,” eunbi quips, turning her soft gaze to you before looking over her mother.
“what was with your little group of bitchy housewives today? you couldn’t have had them over any other day? what kind of christmas disgrace is that?”
“eunbi...” seonghwa chastises lowly, the girl with her brow already quirked and eyes narrowed.
“i can do whatever i want in my home, eunbi. are you forgetting how things work around here?”
“how could i, when i’m met with thirty middle-aged women with botox out the ass in my home the second i get back from school?” she asks, “you didn’t think me and y/n would wanna spend the break, like, resting?”
“you ran off to your boyfriend’s the second you got here,” mrs. park bites back, her glass of wine empty as she pinches the bridge of her nose. “left your friend all alone in your room. what did i tell you about leaving... guests unattended in the house?”
the accusation and direction of conversation is quickly making you feel uncomfortable, your head turned down in your lap and leaving your cheeks aflame.
she’s making it sound like you would steal something in her home for christ’s sake, like you’re not a guest who’s dreaded coming here due to this very reason.
you block out the back and forth between eunbi and her mom, a few more seconds of yappy feminine voices before a deeply spoken “enough,” echoes through the dining room.
you even look up at the sound, watching as mr. park’s eyes rest on you. his eyes narrow as he takes in the sight of your red cheeks, his gaze shifting from you to his daughter to his wife beside him.
“y/n’s here for a month and we’re gonna make her feel welcomed the entire time. if you two are gonna fight, don’t do it at the dinner table.”
“but dad, she totally-”
“maybe you should’ve taught your daughter-”
“no more,” seonghwa growls, a sense of finality in his tone that causes the room to go silent.
you can tell your friend is unbothered by the reprimanding, shoveling food into her mouth and sipping from her wine glass completely unbothered.
sometimes you wish you could be more like her, so unfazed by conflict or loud voices or the strained relationship with a parent.
eunbi was always open with you about the rocky relationship with her mother, saying more than once to you that if it weren’t for her father, she would’ve long cut off any contact with her.
she had never really been there for eunbi growing up, having nannies and chefs take care of her for most of her life - it was her nanny of fifteen years who taught her how to walk and talk, was there with her for all the milestones she met through infancy, childhood and even adolescence.
but even then, eunbi was nonchalant and carefree about it.
saying that she’s not gonna waste her time being upset over it when she knows her mom doesn’t think about her at all. it makes your heart hurt for eunbi, grateful that the girl at least has a good relationship with her father and boyfriend.
and you, of course. you consider her your best friend and you know she does the same - even if sometimes, you wanna pull her hair out.
“i’m gonna go the food store tomorrow, eunbi, so if you and y/n want anything, just text it to me.”
“oooh can we come!” she squeals, knocking her arm into yours like an excited kid in a candy store. “we wanna try making our cookies again.”
“you’re gonna bake?” the girl’s father asks, a look of doubt on his face that causes you to bite back a smile.
“no, we’re gonna bake,” she corrects with snark, “y/n measures the ingredients and stirs, i put it in the oven and watch.”
“right, silly me,” the man hums, a smirk pulling at his lips the more he sees his daughter get irritated. “but of course you girls can come,” he says, his eyes flicking to you for just a few seconds too long.
you can only look back with a small smile, a quiet “thank you,” leaving your mouth that you’re positive he doesn’t catch.
(he did).
you help clean your plate off before you and eunbi go up to her room later that night, once her door’s closed and she’s sitting down shooting her a look of disdain.
“i know you’re mad, okay, i’m sorry, i really am!” she whines, holding her arms out for you to come over. “i tried to leave but he wouldn’t let me. he just kept wanting to-”
“i don’t need the details you sick freak!” you yelp, going over and plopping down on her bed. “ugh, it was just... so awkward. your mom hates me. she was utterly perturbed that i didn’t switch my major to business.”
“ugh, she’s a crotchety bitch i swear,” eunbi says, falling onto her back and looking at you with sorrow in her eyes. “i’m sorry, i really am. i won’t leave you alone with her again, i promise.”
you quirk an unconvinced eyebrow her way, eyes full of doubt and distrust before she throws herself on you and squeals that, at least, now you can have a scary movie marathon without any interruptions.
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it seems you also probably should’ve made her promise last night that you’d never be alone with her father either; it didn’t even occur to you at the time, not thinking that she’d really ditch you two days in a row.
but alas, jiwoon’s car pulled up when all three of you were walking out of the house to the g-wagon for the trip to the food store, her shooting you an apologetic look and whispered condolences in your ear.
“i’m technically not breaking my promise because my dad’s nice,” she mumbled, the feeling in your body more nervous and aroused than it is angry and upset.
but she could’t know that.
“and when i break your head? then what, eunbi?”
“i love you,” she giggles in your ear, the playful tone of your voice letting her know she got off the hook again. “it’ll be fine. my dad’s a good man. he wouldn’t ever talk shit to you the way my mom does.”
little does she know how much you want her dad to talk shit to you.
talk to you in a way that’s casual and playful and teasing, like the hints of it you’ve seen in the car or in eunbi’s room when you were alone last night. you just want him to look at you with the slightest bit of something, even though it’s wrong.
not only because of his wife, no matter how big a bitch she is, but because of-
“do you still wanna come with me?”
seonghwa’s voice pulls you away from your thoughts, looking to the man dressed in a long, black jacket and expensive loafers. he looks far too fancy and delectable for a trip to the grocery store.
eunbi is long gone by now, her giggles and carefree run down the driveway and into her boyfriend’s car leaving you and mr. park alone, with only the blue sky and crisp air as your witness.
him looking you over hopefully, with a twinge of teasing and longing in his gaze.
you looking at him full of nerves and excitement, biting down on your lip as you nod your head timidly.
“s-sure, if that’s okay,” you say, looking from him to his car just a few feet away. “it’d be better than sitting in eunbi’s room again.”
a handsome smile crosses his face as he nods his head, heart pounding and throat constricting as you watch him walk toward the car.
he walks around the front of a smaller, sleek suv, your own eyes watching in confusion until he opens the passenger side door.
you can only stare blankly, head cocked to the side as you really start to wonder if this man is about to make you drive his car costing more than your life.
“are you getting in, y/n?” he asks, an amused smile pulling at his lips - almost like he’s making fun of your nervous, intimidated disposition.
you shake your head of the confusion, cheeks flushing in the cold december air as you do an awkward jog toward the car. you dip in beside him as your body hits the cool leather, craning your neck to shoot him a small, grateful smile.
your faces are closer than you anticipated, breath catching in your throat as his gaze watches you closely.
he doesn’t say a word or move a muscle, taking a few moments for his eyes to roam your face and body before mumbling to buckle up.
you wish you knew how long the drive to the store would be, as it would slightly settle you and the thick, awkward tension in the air. it appears to be enough time for the heat to go on, warm air blowing from the vents before he asks if you want your seat heater on.
“oh, sure, thank you,” you mumble, a smile quirking on his lips as he presses down on the small circular button.
more silence lingers in the air as the trees outside you pass by, the bright winter sun and blue sky not making it feel like christmas is only a few days away.
you can’t remember the last time the holidays have actually felt like it, though,  all the lonely days blending into one and feeling as if they were the same.
maybe this year, because you’re surrounded by eunbi and her family, it’ll feel less lonely. maybe you’ll actually enjoy yourself and find that you’ve missed out when you denied her invitation each and every-
“i’m sorry about my wife last night.”
those are words you don’t expect so they shock you even more, looking at the older man beside you with a wide-eyed, confused gaze. his dark eyes are expressionless and casual on the road, one hand on the wheel while the other rests beside him.
“i... what do you mean?” you ask, knowing damn well you understand his apology - and given the unamused look he throws you, he knows you’re full of shit too.
“i don’t think she means to judge you so harshly,” he begins, his deep, smooth voice full of sympathy and softness. “it’s not her place to question your education or major, so i just want to apologize for her.”
“that’s not necessary, mr. park,” you insist, shaking your head as a small, breathy chuckle leaves you. “and it’s not like i haven’t heard it before.”
because no one is ever too confident in any of the arts being your main source of income or profession; even your own parents, although it really wouldn’t matter what you would have chosen, haven’t been supportive.
and you especially haven’t missed the looks of pity or distaste when you tell people on campus or at parties in the frat house, future business leaders or stem majors looking at you like just said the sky is hot pink.  
“well that’s just ridiculous,” seonghwa says, ripping you from your thoughts so you can roam over his strong, handsome face. “it’s a great field to work in and something you’re passionate about. that’s what matters most.”
he can tell by the way your cheeks flush that you’re slightly embarrassed and he can’t help but find it endearing, licking over his lips as his mind begins to wander.
wonder about what other parts of you could flush so easily or what else he could say to really make the pinkness deepen.
“i guess,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders as you look at the passing oak trees and mansions.
“and... what you said last night about traveling to build my portfolio,” you begin, shocked by the words continuing to leave your mouth. “that’s something i’ve thought about doing. i think it’d be really fun, regardless if i did wedding photographer or not.”
“yeah?” he asks, the smile on his face causing your head to jump. “i think that’d be good, too. where would you wanna go first?”
your lips purse to the side as you think it over, a love for traveling anywhere you could but having an especially strong pull toward the tropics.
“cancun or the maldives,” you answer, the financial aspect of the trip leaving it most likely impossible for you. “it’ll probably never happen, because i’d have to sell my first born, but i’ve always wanted to go somewhere like that. somewhere tropical and fun.”
seonghwa bites his tongue about his multiple trips there, instead letting out a chuckle that causes butterflies to erupt. his eyes are too drawn to your body in the front seat, legs crossed and arms over your lap politely.
“you never know,” he hums, ripping his gaze away before you catch his gawking. “you might get there one day, after being the best wedding photographer the city has to offer.”
“oh, please,” you glggle out, cheeks flushing despite the absurdity of the comment.
you catch the smile that creeps on his face, the same handsome, carefree smile you saw in the car last time.
you try not to let it get to you, let your brain convince you that maybe he likes hanging out with you alone as much as you like it too.
“i’m serious,” he says, the earnest tone of his voice slipping into dad mode in a way he doesn’t even realize. “your parents must be proud.”
you bite down on your lip as you let out a soft, almost scornful, chuckle, a quietly mumbled “yeah,” leaving your mouth that causes his eyebrows to pull together.
he always thought it was a little suspicious that in the four years eunbi has known you, she’s never told him about your parents; as far as he knows, she’s never even seen them.
“she has her scholarship and stuff so she doesn’t really need them,” his daughter said one day, the two of them discussing why you were spending yet another break alone in the apartment.
“but they don’t want her home for the holidays? you told her she was welcomed, right?”
“ugh, about a thousand times,” his daughter groans in the seat, throwing herself against the window dramatically. “i basically begged her, dad, but she said she didn’t wanna intrude. i’m telling you it’s because mom is the biggest fucking-”
“eunbi...”
“you know it’s true!” she squeals, seonghwa biting his tongue in an effort to be the bigger and better parent. “i don’t even know why you guys got married.”
but that’s what happens with teen pregnancies and rich families. how they were destined to marry anyway, due to their parents companies and stupid business politics.
it was one drunken night at his dad’s company party and a broken condom that sealed his fate with finality - made him go from a single, carefree high school student to a married businessman with a child just two short years later.
his wife was good at one point he likes to think, remembering she was gorgeous and sassy and not like the other girls who would drop to their knees for him.
but marriage and a child and just life quickly caught up with them, already trapped in a loveless, pointless marriage by the time he hit 25.
he’d be lying if he said he didn’t stay for eunbi, that they both didn’t stay for eunbi throughout her childhood and now just grew too used to being an unhappy married couple who live separate lives.  
there was never any reason for them to divorce though, no one serious in his or his wife’s lives and the hassle of money and disputing houses and cars and assets far too draining.
“i don’t believe i’ve ever met them,” seonghwa says, pulling into the store parking lot to see it’s less crowded than he suspected it’d be. “what do they do?”
you couldn’t imagine anything more unbearable than disclosing to your friend’s hot dad who you may or may not have feelings for about the messed up relationship with your parents.
it just screams daddy issues, which might say a lot about your very attraction to him in the first place.
“they run a little restaurant back in my home town. it’s about three hours from campus, which is why i don’t really go home for breaks.”
seonghwa hums lowly, nodding his head as he looks at you at a stop sign.
you’re unnerved by the way his eyes roam you, like he can see signs of you being uncomfortable about your parents and wants to know why - but why would he care? you’re only his daughter’s roommate.
“do you miss seeing them?”
you lick over your lips nervously, watching as his eyes darken every so slightly.
he watches each and every of your movements carefully, so in tune with your reactions and breaths you can just feel yourself getting more and more worked up.
not in the slightest, you wanna say. i’ll probably never see them again and have no qualms about it, mr. park.
“i suppose,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders as you apprehensively meet his gaze.
“you suppose?” he asks, concern etched on his face. “when was the time you’ve seen them? since your freshmen year?”
you avert your gaze as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, in no way wanting to have this discussion at ten a.m. when, much to your pleasure, an impatient car behind beeps at seonghwa’s mercedes.
his dark eyes move to the rearview mirror, narrowed and irritated in a way you can’t help but think is sexy, before he puts his foot off the break and turns into the parking lot.
“i think this person’s leaving,” you mutter when you notice another car go in reverse, seonghwa snatching the spot before the impatient, crotchety lady behind him could steal it.
you can’t help but smirk as seonghwa eyes her when you get out of the car, giving him a look that’s half judgmental and half amused.
“what? she beeped at me.”
“aren’t you supposed to be, like, an adult?”
he rolls his eyes as he takes a cart from the pile, nodding his head for you to go in front and “stop talking back to an elder.”
you can’t help but smirk at his playfulness, taking your spot in the front and pretending as if you always move your hips this much when you walk casually; you would’ve felt embarrassed, had you not turned around a few moments later to see his eyes already on you.
“where to first, mr. park?”
he has to bite back the groan threatening to leave his mouth, reminding himself to keep himself in check this month - starting tomorrow.
“depends, y/n,” he hums, voice far too deep and sultry to be surrounded by innocent bystanders in the grocery store. “what do you want?”
words are caught in your throat and you can only stare dumbly, your plan quickly back firing as he appears to do the same - but it’s gotta be in your head, right?
regardless, it quickly humbles you in the form of a small, unsure shrug.
it’s how you two start walking up and down the aisles, seonghwa putting in what he remembers and items on his mental list while also insisting you put in anything you want.
your arms bump ever so often, softly apologizing and acknowledging it the first few times before you both realize it may be happening on purpose.
you stick close to him when the aisles get tight and crowded, his deep voice telling you to “go ahead,” causing you to swallow shakily. you feel the presence of his hand just a few inches from your hips, lingering and hovering but never fully touching.
it’s finally when you’re in the bread aisle, seonghwa a few feet away talking to the man at the bakery counter, that you decide to put something in the cart.
you would usually never accept someone’s offer to buy you something, already feeling bad about staying with them rent free and eating their meals without compensating.
but the brioche loaf brand is one of your favorites, only sold on occasion at the corner store near campus.
you press up on your tippy toes to grab the bag of bread, stretching your arm up with all your might. the plastic slips through your fingers just as you’re about to snatch it down, letting out an annoyed huff as you pulled down your sweater dress.
you mumble your annoyances before trying again, back on the tips of your toes with your arm raising when you feel a hand on the small of your back.
it’s large and warm and seeping through the thin material of your burgundy dress, a snappy protest about to leave your mouth when you catch mr. park’s face in your peripheral.
there’s a content look on his face as he takes the bag with ease, holding it above your head as his hand moves from your back to your waist with a gentle touch.
you look at him with wide eyes and a pounding heart, his hand on your waist so foreign and strange but... good. something you didn’t even realize you’d been craving until it happened.
the strength and warmth of his hand, though if you think about it just enough, you can feel the weight of his wedding band through the fabric.
“is this what you wanted?”
his voice is deep and low as he speaks to you and you alone, your eyes raising to see him staring down at you. you can’t make out the expression in them, just the darkness in his eyes and the frantic beating of your heart.
you can’t even being to understand the context of his words right now because, yes, this is exactly what you’ve wanted - but he doesn’t know that, right?
“w-what?”
he can’t help the smirk that crosses his face, all sorts of pride and satisfaction and arousal coursing through his veins at your current disposition.
“the bread,” he says, stepping back and holding it out to you. “is this the one you wanted?”
your eyes narrow as you look at him, the smirk on his face, the amusement in his gaze, the playfulness that’s radiating off him - is he fucking with you?
“oh... i... yes,” you finally say, coming to your senses and not allowing yourself to think this way anymore. “that’s the one. i hope it’s okay.”
“of course,” he hums, placing the bread in the cart before going back to the front handles. “you can get anything you want, i already told you that.”
you nod dumbly as you follow beside him, seonghwa picking more things off the shelves and muttering the list to himself as you try to get your shit together.
because yes, you’re attracted to him and yes, you’ve found yourself alone with him for more than two days in a row and yes, there’s been some lingering looks and touches but that doesn’t mean anything.
you can’t let your own deluded thoughts and desires get in the way of reality.
the reality that he’s your friend and roommate’s married father and you’re a college student. he doesn’t want you just as much as you shouldn’t want him so what’s the problem here?
maybe it’s that you’re a 22-year-old woman who’s only been on a handful of dates.
that the last time you made out with someone was when you were drunk and dared to kiss the first guy that walked through the bar (luckily, somewhat attractive and surprisingly polite).
that, maybe, you’re so horribly touch-starved and aching for affection, you’re trying to find it in a hot father figure who’s just as kind as he sexy - and that, you think, is the second most tragic thing here.
because the first would absolutely be thinking that any of this, any of these stares or touches or coincidences of eunbi leaving you two alone, means something.
means that maybe this break is for you two is create an attraction and build some sort of bond and-
“y/n.”
you’re barely able to register seonghwa’s voice before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling your body into his taller one and having you pressed up right against him.
you were so lost in thought of him that you didn’t see the older women skirting her cart around the aisle quickly, phone pressed to her ear as she yells to her husband about the christmas ham.
you’re not even sure if she shoots you a look of sorrow or utters any apology, too consumed and distracted by the feeling and proximity of mr. park.
his arm wrapped around you, your body pressed flush up against him, his neck craned down to look at you with a building... something in his eyes. playfulness and teasing but also something darker, something that makes your stomach swoop and renders you unable to move.
“are you always so clumsy and distracted?” he mumbles lowly, his deep voice quiet for only you two to hear - like he knows even in a sea of strangers, he has to keep these interactions quiet.
“what would you do if i wasn’t here to help you, y/n?”
i wouldn’t have been distracted in the first place, you’re tempted to say - but you certainly don’t wanna open that can of worms, especially not in the middle of this grocery store with the way your heart is pounding.
“i... i’m sorry, i was distracted,” you mutter, playing up the damsel in distress just a little bit. “my mistake, mr. park.”
he licks over his lips, swearing his name just being spoken has never effected him like this. he doesn’t even know where this attraction came from, seeing you leave the dorm building yesterday morning and something in his body jumping at the sight of you.
maybe it’s just showing how unhappy he really is with his life, living day to day to just work. hang out with his friends and go to sleep alone - he doesn’t remember the last time his wife touched him, looked at him like she wanted him or made any move to be with him.
he just knows that you showed up, looking so pretty and wide-eyed and coy, and is now about to lose his mind.
“it’s alright,” he says, hoping you don’t hear the thick tension he hears in his own voice, like he’s some idiotic, hormonal young boy. “i think we only have a few more aisles left, anyway.”
he plucks the remaining items off the shelves before you both make your way to the self check-out, him scanning and you bagging because “eunbi says if my career as a photographer fails, i could be the best grocery bagger ever.”
“that’s just because she puts the bread on the bottom,” seonghwa mutters, a smile on your face as you nod your head - she squished one too many of your brioche loafs before you realized bagging just wasn’t for her.
your fingers graze ever so often, the coldness of his tips a stark contrast to your warmer ones.
a particularly big, bulk bag of vegetables proves to be a challenge for you, working through the packed bag with some difficulty. you let out an annoyed groan as you play a dangerous game of tetris, trying not to rip open the brown paper bag.
you finally get the box inside, a little bit prouder than you care to admit, when your precious brioche loaf is dropped right atop. you look up at seonghwa to see him already apologizing, your brow raised as you look at the older man in confusion.
did he think your hand was out? why would he just throw the food at you?
but it’s only when you feel a little more air than normal on your chest that you see what could’ve possibly caused the distraction, the white lace from your bra sticking out.
your cleavage in this dress was hidden for the most part, only becoming a little more obvious when you moved around or packed a shitload of groceries. it makes you bite back a smirk as you put two and two together, looking up to see his eyes still lingering over you.
two can play at this game mr. park.
“mr. park,” you begin, feigning a certain kind of innocence as you place your bread atop the other groceries and finally look up at him. “are you always so clumsy?”
it takes a few seconds for a smile to pull at his lips, the tick in his jaw not going unnoticed to you - so maybe this wasn’t all in your head. maybe he wants you too... possibly.
“you’re funny, y/n,” he mumbles, a smile pulling at your lips as he takes out his black card. “i guess i was distracted, too.”
you swallow the lump in your throat as you feel the slightest hint of arousal run through you, shaking it off and letting out a forced, girlish chuckle.
you pack the car a few minutes later without any lingering eyes or touches, seonghwa telling you about the meals they plan on cooking for christmas.
they usually don’t make their own food for holidays but decided to have a more traditional set up for you and eunbi’s arrival - he also hasn’t cooked a meal for his family in god knows how long.
“that’ll be great, thank you,” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt in as he backs out the spot. “i’m kind of a picky eater but i’ll eat anything you guys provide me.”
“and you have the whole brioche loaf,” seonghwa says, a giggle leaving your mouth as you nod your head.
“true. it’s really good.”
“i’ve never tried, perhaps you’d be willing to-”
his wife’s name popping up on his car dashboard acts as a way to bring you back to reality, brings a certain kind of silence over the both of you for a few seconds.
like he wasn’t just rubbing his body against yours and you weren’t just flirting with him in the form of smirking lips and snarky comments.
you watch a twinge of annoyance behind seonghwa’s eyes, gaze roaming over the screen as if he’s in contemplation before muttering “one second.”
“hello?”
“where are you?” her voice snaps in annoyance, “i told you we had that board meeting at one.”
“and it’s only noon,” his deep voice mumbles, not matching her level of irritation but sounding a whole lot different than a few seconds ago. “me and y/n are coming back now.”
“y/n?” she spats, like it’s a disgusting piece of food she wouldn’t dare put in her mouth. “what about eunbi?”
“she went off with jiwoon before i could get her in the car.”
“so it was only you two?” she asks, the snide judgment and underlying tone in her voice causing your stomach to churn. “did she ask you to buy a bunch of-”
“i’ll be home in twenty and then be on my way over,” he says, cutting her off and hanging up before she can even get another word you.
your stomach churns and a sick feeling comes over you, her utter dislike and disdain for you causing you to bite your lip.
because not only does she not like you to be with her daughter, she doesn’t want you with her husband (although, you suppose, you can’t really blame her for that one).
“i’m sorry about that,” seonghwa winces, the silence lingering between you two heavy. “you could’ve gotten anything you wanted, y/n. this is your christmas too. don’t feel bad about anything, okay?”
you swallow the lump in your throat, your gaze moving to his as he stops at the red light.
your eyes lingering over his and his doing the very same, hand twitching to reach out and move the piece of hair from your slightly flushed face.
and there was something about the way you were both looking at each other, eyes so focused and unwavering and honest, that had you thinking maybe all of this wasn’t in your heads.
but it didn’t mean either of you could act on it - they were just... feelings of lust and wonder and all things forbidden, not seriously believing that a relationship like this could unfold right under the nose of his wife, his daughter and your roommate.
unless the pull was so desperate.
so overwhelming and all-consuming and present between the both of you, little moments couldn’t help but happen.
strike one:
with none other than eunbi as a distraction, the girl promising she wasn’t gonna leave you alone anymore, you were able to take your mind off everything.
the tension-filled, heart pounding moments with mr. park that felt just as wrong as they did right.
you spent a few nights going out with her, jiwoon and all of their high school friends, a surprisingly nice group of young adults who you got along well with.
they were loud and crazy and did far too many shots but they also seemed to be genuinely kind. even the boy who was flirting with you all night, handsome and tall with pretty dark eyes, acted as a good distraction.
grinding up against him as the music pounded throughout the bar, alcohol coursing through your veins allowing you to forget about the older man who’s been living in your head for almost a week now.
“how have i never met you before, y/n?” the boy mumbled lowly in your ear, your head against his shoulder carelessly.
but it was right there in that moment, him saying your name, that the moment was over.
because it just didn’t sound like seonghwa, as delusional as that was.
it didn’t get your heart racing or lips quirking the same way it did when you heard the older man say it. the smile attached to his handsome, mature face and the deep, lowly spoken tone that always held a hint of teasing and sincerity.
“but danny really is so freakin’ nice!” eunbi squeals to you on christmas eve, the two of you in her immaculately white and modern kitchen prepping the chocolate chip cookie cough for tomorrow.
“and you two seemed to be getting along, i saw your ass all up on him.”
“eunbi, that wasn’t me. that was the vodka. i don’t know who that girl was.”
she throws her head back as a loud chuckle leaves her, telling you again that she warned you her snobby, rich little friends have been able to handle their liquor since middle school.
it’s how they cope, she had said, unloved kids with more money than god learning to deal with the world of limitless funds and minimal parental supervision.
“well he hasn’t stopped asking me about you, you know,” she hums, her eyebrows quirked suggestively as she mixes the bowl of ingredients lazily.
“and not just because of your newfound grinding skills, which by the way, are usually learned by the tenth grade.”
your eyes narrow at her comment, throwing a small ball of dough at her that she, impressively, catches in her mouth.
“he really is just, like, so taken by you, y/n. seriously. i told him that you’re graduating this year with a degree in photography and he nearly came in his pants. he loves the artsy girls.”
“you are so vile,” you snort out, shaking your head at the girl sitting criss-crossed on the counter. “and stop saying that. we both know i’m not graduating this year,” you mumble, her face falling pathetically.
“i told you we’re gonna find a way,” she whines lowly, looking at you with all kinds of sympathy and sadness in her eyes - she would offer to pay for you, if she didn’t think you would smack her upside the head.
“oh and what? is my new boyfriend danny gonna do that for me?”
“in exchange for more grinding and a photoshoot, i think. do you want me to try?”
she lets out another giggle despite the way you pinch her leg, peeking inside the bowl with a surprising amount of pride.
"this looks good,” you mumble, swiping your finger to collect some of the chocolate dough.
“hey!” she whines brattily, thrusting a spoon toward your hand just a second too late.  
“why are you whining in here like a child, eunbi?” seonghwa asks, walking through the entryway and the large, white island in the center. “what are you making? please don’t burn the house down.”
“haha dad, you’re so funny,” she mocks sarcastically, jumping down from the counter with her hands on her hips. “where are the baking sheets?”
a simple shrug from her father causes her to roll her eyes, grumbling about how she was really trying to avoid her bitch of a mother today. he holds back his smirk, about to reprimand her before she’s out the kitchen and shouting for her mother upstairs.
it’s only you and seonghwa in the kitchen now, a heavy silence in the air as you stand there dumbly - bowl beside you, cookie dough adorning the top of your finger.
“what are you girls making?” he finally asks, his body moving closer and closer causing you to swallow.
“i... uh, cookie dough. for tomorrow,” you say, lifting your finger and wiggling the tip full of batter. “chocolate chip.”
his eyes move to your finger before grazing over your mouth, his tongue peeking out ever so slightly as he reminds himself to act right.
he hasn’t been alone with you since that day at the food store, just seeing you in passing in the hallways or outside the house as you and eunbi went to and fro.
he hears your giggles at night and tired groans in the morning, quietly yelling at his daughter to wake up and get her ass out of bed.
and he knows it’s probably for the better, that you two don’t find yourselves alone with each other, but he can’t help but feel a rush of excitement right now.
you watch as he moves closer, with the same wide-eyed look you’ve been giving him since he first saw you in your apartment weeks ago.
“ahh, you’re making it from scratch? that’s ambitious.”
“yeah, we googled a recipe,” you tell him, finger still beside you in the air.
you don’t know what causes you to be so bold, maybe him attempting to carry out a normal conversation even though he’s looking at you with so much lust and desire, but you can’t stop once you start.
“how’s it taste?” he asks, his voice deep and slightly strained as he nods his head toward your finger.
you don’t even bat an eye as you slip the tip of your finger in your mouth slowly, swirling your tongue around as you take up all the dough on your skin.
it’s sweeter than you originally thought it’d be but it tastes good nonetheless, keeping your eyes on him as you reamin as innocent and unassuming as possible.
“it’s good,” you say, dropping your finger like you didn’t just make a show of licking and sucking it. “i like it better raw.”
you don’t even realize your words until you see the fleeting look on his face, tongue swiping across his lip and eyes hardening. they roam you so slowly and darkly, you can’t control the growing butterflies and swooping in your lower stomach.
“mm, me too,” he hums lowly, the hardening of his cock in his pants something he hasn’t felt in forever. it’s taking everything in him to control himself, from his eyes popping out of his head to letting out the deepest of growls in the back of his throat.
“do you want some?” you ask, cocking your head to the side questioningly.
he has to desperately hold on to his composure, not think about how easy it’d be to pin you against the cabinet right behind you. take just a few steps closer, have your back against the cold granite and let you feel just how much he wants some.
but he has to play it cool, push down these building desires and ignore your teasing because he’s almost fucking positive that’s what’s happening here.
“want some what?” he asks, his voice lowering just a tad.
he hasn’t played a game like this since college, watching as your eyes widen and brow quirks up.
but he sees that’s exactly what it is when you turn around and face the bowl of cookie dough to him, a smile just as sweet as the cookies on your face.
“cookie dough. before we put them in the oven and possibly burn them.”
the breathy chuckle he lets out leaves your stomach in shambles, his tongue peeking out and poking the inside of his cheek causing a swooping sensation to flood through you.
but before he can even think to say anything, before your eyes can look over his body and make you feel even more warm and bothered, eunbi floats back in and fiddles in the cabinets for the baking sheets.
“that woman is too much, i swear,” she grunts, whipping out the materials quickly before her head snaps to her father. “why are you still here?”
“i wanted some cookies. and to ensure y/n won’t allow you do burn down the kitchen.”
“it was one time, dad, and an accident. how many times do i have to defend myself in this house?”
you let out a giggle as you look from eunbi to seonghwa, your roommate turning her back to set up the practice baking session.
“let’s go bitch! i hope we didn’t fuck this up.”
seonghwa’s eyes roam over you for a few more moments, his tongue swiping across his lips before, finally, leaving the kitchen with his dick hard as a rock.
strike two:
christmas consisted of successful cookies per your and eunbi’s homemade batch, passive aggressive comments from mrs. park about your degree and a whole fuck ton of sexual energy between you and seonghwa.
you could almost always feel when his gaze was boring into you, when you got up to take more mashed potatoes or kept your attention on eunbi as she told her parents about what job she wants to start at next semester.  
it’s also when eunbi almost let it slip about your scholarships, had you not viciously pinched her arm and caused a pained cry to leave her mouth - if you ever thought jiwoon was gonna verbally assault you, it was certainly in that moment.
“why did you pinch me so hard?” she whined later that night, jiwoon passed out on the couch after five too many homemade cookies. “look at my bruise.”
a genuine frown crosses your lips as you look at her arm, rubbing her skin gently as you mumble your soft spoken apologies.
“i’m sorry but i just... i didn’t want your mom to know that,” you say back just as whiney and pathetic. “she already thinks i’m an incompetent idiot. knowing i have to wait a whole year because i’m broke is just too embarrassing.”
it’s an admission that, while eunbi already suspected that, still makes her feel bad - it nearly makes her wanna cry, that you don’t feel welcomed and loved in her home because her mom has to be a judgmental bitch.
“y/n...”
“bi, it’s fine, oh, my god do not cry right now,” you grumble, flicking her in the head lightly.
“i just feel bad,” she cries lowly, moving hrself closer to you and away from her boyfried. “it’s not fair, y/n. you worked so hard and now you have to wait. how could they do this to you?”
a small, touched smile crosses your face at eunbi as you shake your head, dabbing at her watery eyes.
if jiwoon wakes up, he’s literally gonna beat my ass,” you say, smiling when a wet giggle leaves eunbi; you don’t want this time to be sad or upsetting. “i thought he was gonna hit me at dinner.”
“okay if he’s hitting anything, it’s gonna be my-”
“no. no, no, no.”
the snort that leaves her mouth doesn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach, looking at you with a frown still adorning her face.
“i’m sorry if my mom’s making you feel uncomfortable. she does it to every single person ever and i don’t-”
“it’s fine, please stop apologizing for her,” you say, the sinking reminder in the back of your mind that seonghwa had been doing the very same thing - apologizing for that woman.
“i know she’s stressing you out, too. we’re in it together.”
“that’s true,” she sighs, letting out a long, dramatic groan before resting her head on your shoulder. “i’m so bloated, i don’t think i’m ever gonna be able to eat again.”
and it was funny that, days after the holiday, eunbi was still convinced that she was bloated from christmas dinner.
“babe, i don’t even think that’s possible,” jiwoon consoled her, you and him sitting in her room as she gets ready to go down to the pool.
because, naturally, like everyone in this godforsaken rich town, they get ready to go to the pool that’s inside of their homes; when eunbi told you to pack a bathing suit back at your apartment, you looked at her like she was insane.
until she clarified that her pool is heated and, conveniently, indoors.
“just through the backyard,” she had said - and she truly meant it.
just a few yards away from the main deck area, with floor to ceiling glass windows that showcase the extravagant landscaping and, of course, the outdoor pool and jacuzzi just a few feet away.
“eunbi, this is insane,” you say, marveling at the sight before you.
“don’t you wish you came sooner?” she asks with a wink, your eyes rolling as you place down your towel.
you had the option to bring two bathing suits - a skimpy black one you don’t remember being so scandalous or a red one you remember eunbi insisting you buy last summer.
and you just knew it was because danny was coming, currently showcasing his impressive eight pack that, truly, just doesn’t do it for you - maybe if he was twenty years older, apparently, and somebody’s father and husband.
you shake the thoughts out of your head, walking a few steps toward the pool before eunbi tackles you from behind. you both land with a loud splash, followed by the excited shouts and loud splashes of her other friends.
you’d be lying if you said you could remember the last time you had this much fun, splashing and giggling and acting so carefree despite the many challenges you’ll have to face soon.
but that’s not any of your concern right now, currently sitting atop danny’s shoulders and trying to knock down eunbi in a game of chicken.
“you little bitch! get your nails out of me!”
“coming from the girl who literally just tried to choke me two seconds ago!”
“like it’s your first time being choked!”
and you don’t know whether jiwoon was shocked by you saying that statement or the fact that his girlfriend exposes all of her sexual kinks to you but alas, it did the trick in sealing you a victory.
a smug smile on your face as danny jumps up and down in excitement, your body bouncing and nearly falling over him had you not gripped onto his shoulders.
it’s at that time eunbi pops up from the water, hair a soaking mess and mascara running down her face. she’s about to open her mouth, probably to yell at you, before a volleyball is thrown through the air and just misses her face.
instead, it hits danny square in the head. the boy letting out a yelp before you promptly fall backwards in the water, hearing eunbi’s shrill squeal and giggle on your way down.
you pop up and throw her a dirty look, danny rubbing at the back of his side before apologizing profusely.
“it’s okay,” you giggle out, about to say you shouldn’t have been up there for so long before eunbi’s squealing in the air.
“dad, what the hell kind of aim was that!”
you feel your body stiffen before you quickly shoot around, none another than mr. park standing there looking as handsome as ever.
he puts the young men around you to shame, good-looking, muscular college boys who anyone in their right mind would find attractive - but they just don’t beat him.
his striking eyes or tall, lean stature or the fact that he’s just so fucking-
“got worse with age, bi, what can i say?” he chuckles, extra white fluffy towels in his hold that he places on the chair. “sorry, danny.”
seonghwa’s known danny for a few years now, one of jiwoon’s friends who seems... alright. not a bad guy but also not a good guy - just kind of there; but it didn’t occur to the man just how much he was bothered by him until he saw you on his shoulders.
because he could’ve put you in danger, of course. put you in danger at his house where if things got bad, he’d be responsible; as for the ball, it merely slipped from his finger tips.
“no problem mr. park,” the kid smiles, the other friends gathering around and looking at him expectantly. “we’re gonna play a round of volleyball. you in?”
“no. no dads allowed,” eunbi whines, seonghwa rolling his eyes at his bratty adult daughter.
“why not? because i’m better than all of you, eunbi?”
“oh please,” she grumbles lowly, rolling her eyes and grabbing you to lead you toward the stairs. “you know what, we’re going in the hot tub anyway. since she decided to rock my shit in chicken. enjoy my father traitors,” eunbi grumbles to jiwoon and his friends.
“i did not,” you protest weakly, feeling two pairs of eyes on you as you make your way out of the pool with your friend.
the first thing that strikes seonghwa, apart from the major twitch in his pants, is how skimpy your bikini is.
red bottoms with thin straps holding it up, a matching red top showcasing cleavage and beauty marks on your chest and all the things that are proving to drive him fucking crazy upon seeing you every day.
it’s taking everything in him to control the growing ache in his shorts, your eyes looking at him so coyly and attentively that you’re ignoring the college boy gawking at you right in front of him.
there’s a certain sort of twisted pride in his chest, you giving him attention and seemingly reciprocating his interest, when there’s someone younger right there for you.
younger and unmarried and more suitable for you. someone you can actually be with where it wouldn’t be considered dirty or wrong or secretive; but maybe that’s why you’re both drawn to it in the first place.
that, and because you’re both really hot.
“he’s literally hot, y/n! why don’t you like him?” eunbi whines to you, the two of you sitting across from one another in the hot tub outside.
the december air is crisp but feels nice comapred to the steaming water you’re gratefully submerged in. anything to take you away from mr. park shirtless and wet in the pool right now.
“i do like him, bi,” you mutter, trying your best to convince her and now seem suspicious.
“okay, yeah, as a person but who cares about that!” she whines, flopping her hands dramatically in the water. “you don’t want him to rail you.”
“eunbi!” you squeak, splashing in her direction as a warm, embarrassed blush rises to your cheeks.
“i’m serious y/n. you’ve never been railed before and danny’s such a good option. he’s hot and he’s sweet and he’s so pathetically into you, it’s a little sick.”
you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, shooting her a look that screams can we please not talk about this because you don’t know how much i actually wanna be railed by your father so let’s stop this discussion.
but she only rolls her eyes, moving herself closer to you so she can tug at your arm annoyingly.
“is he just not your type?” she questions, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion for a few moments before utter shock crosses her face.
“wait, what is your type? it’s... men, right? have i been hooking you up with the wrong gender this whole time?” she asks in disbelief, “could we have been hooking up this whole time?”
you press your lips together so you don’t burst out laughing, dryly replying “yes, eunbi, i’m into men.”
but the more you think about it, the more you think maybe you don’t have a type.
“and i’ve... never really thought about it before, to be honest. i just know i’m not into like... frat guys or whatever.”
because any party you’d been to, any douchey college guy wearing a backwards hat or cut off shirt, you had never been more disinterested. you couldn’t ever picture yourself falling for someone like that, romantically or sexually.
the one time you remember thinking someone was hot was when you took film and lit with your 31-year-old professor.
“so older guys?” eunbi concludes after hearing that, a smirk on her face as she raises her eyebrows playfully. “we gotta scope out some golf courses or retirement homes?”
“please,” you scoff, a giggle leaving her mouth as she throws her head back gleefully.
“okay, really though, i’ll tell danny you’re not interested and to stop trying so hard if you’re really not interested.”
but maybe danny as a distraction will be good.
will make you see that, perhaps, someone single and your own age and not your best friend’s father will be good thing for you to explore.
so you shrug lightheartedly, the smirk on your face causing eunbi to let out a low “oooh shit.”
you look over at her and your smile only widens when she knocks your shoulder, saying that you’re looking to be a play girl and drain a rich, lovesick man of some christmas presents.
“yeah, right! why drain a rich man when i can drain my best friend,” you tease, looking around her yard and still in astonishment that this is really her life. “i mean, two pools? is that really necessary?”
“three actually. there’s one behind the guest house on the other side. a small one. very humble.”
“oh, a small one, okay. great.”
she lets out another giggle, the two of you talking over plans for new years eve.
you might go up to jiwoon’s parents house in the mountains for the weekend, spend the time drinking with the small group of friends you’ve come to genuinely like over these past few weeks.
“it’s only two hours away so it won’t be that bad either,” she says, getting up to shake the hot water off her arms. “i’ll be right back, i have to pee.”
you nod your head, grateful she didn’t piss in the pool and allowing yourself to sit there, eyes closed, body relaxed, in the silence.
you can hear the faint screams of the boys from the indoor pool area and the swish of the hot tub filter, peeking open your eyes when, suddenly, you think you hear a boom of thunder in the distance.
you watch the sky darkening and clouds coming in, signaling a storm is coming in soon and quick. a sigh leaves your mouth, enjoying your last few moments of peace before finally standing in the hot tub.
the crisp winter air blows and sends goosebumps up your arms, a shiver running through your body as you attempt to splash some hot water on your upper body.
you don’t know how you know someone’s watching you but you do, some sort of strange intuition within you looking up to see none other than mr. park standing a few feet away from the hot tub.
his dark hair is wet and hanging in his face, swimming trunks soaked and his exposed chest still dripping chlorine water.
you press your lips together as your eyes roam his chest, a hint of abs on his lean stomach that causes a small, strangled groan to leave your mouth - you will never understand how this man is pushing 40.
but the same way you’re looking at him, he’s looking at you.
water covering your body, currently hunched over trying to warm the rest of your body; but it’s when you stand he really starts to gawk, your figure standing full and tall and giving him a perfect view of your hardening nipples from the cold crisp air.
you can see the lust in his eyes the same way you know he can and you’re about to do something to just make him crack. mistakingly untie your bottoms, catching them at the last second so he thinks he’s about to get a peak.
or undo the back of your top and pout at him, ask him to please tie it back for you because it’s way too hard to reach behind and do it yourself.
or maybe you’ll just drop to your knees right there, try to see if there’s any hint of a bulge in his swimming trunk bottoms and-
his body is gone just as fast as he arrived, confusion covering your face before you shake your head of your perverted thoughts - dropping to your knees when his daughter and wife are right here, what the fuck is wrong with you today?
you blame eunbi, all her talk about getting railed when you’ve been wanting to jump her father’s bones.
you carefully make your way out of the hot tub, not wanting to eat shit and scarp your leg on the concrete.
it feels like you’re about to freeze in the cold, another shiver wracking your body before you turn to stick your cold, goosebump-ridden arms back in the hot tub. it warms you for just a few seconds, a low, satisfied hum leaving your mouth before you hear footsteps coming up from behind you.
something in you tells you it’s him again.
whether it be the way your body heats up and feels prickly, the obvious feeling of eyes burning into your exposed back causing you to remain still and oblivious.
but you can longer remain oblivious a few seconds later, when a tall body is just a few inches away from completely pressing against you.
“you forgot a towel,” is all he says, placing it on the wet rim of the hot tub.
when he leans forward to place the white towel down, he’s careful and meticulous with his movements. brushing up against you every so slightly and carefully that you can feel his hard bulge on your ass for a few seconds too long.
at first you think you’re crazy, feeling what you were trying to envision in your head, but then you absolutely know it there’s.
you can feel the wetness from his bathing suit on your legs, his cock right there resting on the thin, red fabric of your bikini bottoms and if you were as weak as you felt inside, if he stayed there just a little bit longer, a moan would’ve absolutely left your mouth.
if you pushed back just a little to feel more of his cock on you, grind your ass his hardness just enough to hear him let out a low groan or maybe curse a little.
but he moves away, almost like he knew the perfect amount of time before that happened and almost like he did it by accident - but when you turn around and see the look in his eyes, you know it wasn’t.
the same way he can see a palpable desire and surprise and tension in your gaze, causing him to suppress a growing smirk. it makes you wanna tease him back in whatever way you can but you know that eunbi’s due back from the bathroom at any moment.
so you only cock your head to the side, lick over your lower lip carefully as you grasp the towel in your hands gently.
“thank you, mr. park,” you say, your voice as airy and sweet as you can possibly make it without sounding like an idiot.
“you’re welcome, y/n,” he says, taking a few steps back as his eyes lock on you. he stays there for a few moments until he hears the door to the pool house open.
you watch his lustful, dark expression change right then and there, a towel wrapping around his lower body and his face stretching into a happy, father-approved look.
“so you’re good with anything for dinner, y/n?” he asks, his voice loud and clear enough for his approaching daughter to hear. “i know you mentioned you were picky.”
“let’s get pizza!” eunbi screeches through the air, telling seonghwa that everyone’s staying over and they’ll need at least four boxes.
but you can’t even think about pizza right now, not when this moment right here is solidifying the crazy thought in your head that your best friend’s dad wants you just as much as you want him.
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you called him out later that night around one a.m., after eunbi and jiwoon were the last to pass out to your scary movie marathon.
the others were sprawled out on the basement floor, an intricate array of blankets and pillows on the floor that you attempted to weave through, both, skillfully and quietly.
there was a dryness in your throat that could only be settled by a cold glass of water, making your way through the house quietly and praying you don’t run into mrs. park.
she’s been just as passive aggressive as she usually is in front of people so you could never imagine being alone with her. wondering what the hell she’d say to you without seonghwa and eunbi as buffers.
you were relieved when the lights were off in the kitchen, padding your way to the fridge to take out a bottle of water. you twist and turn the cap off to gulp down the cold liquid in the refrigerator light, a quiet gasp leaving you as your thirst is quenched.
you briefly consider going up to eunbi’s room to sleep tonight, not sure how you feel about being squished in with eunbi and jiwoon cuddling on the couch, when the light suddenly flicks off.
it causes you to freeze and halt all thoughts, fear running through you for all three seconds before you see seonghwa’s tall, familiar figure pass you. you watch him carefully in the dim light of the fridge, his shirtless chest yet again right in front of your face.
leaned back against the counter across from you, giving you a perfect view of his toned chest and gray sweatpants.
“midnight snack?” he asks, the smirk on his face almost causing you to roll your eyes.
instead, your lips quirk into a small smile. raising your water bottle by your head and shaking it, the water swishing in your pounding ears.
“just water,” you respond quietly, matching his low tone. “i hope that’s okay.”
“that you took water? of course, y/n,” he says, amusement in his gaze as he looks you over.
you’re freshly showered and in a pair of pajamas, matching pink sets that eunbi got you for christmas one year - he remembers because he was with her when she bought it.
a soft smile crosses your face, your back getting cold from the open fridge but not daring to move a muscle. not with him looking at you the way he is and with his body just a few feet away from you.
a silence lingers in the kitchen, you not sure why he’s looking at you and him waiting to see if you say something, before he bites the inside of his cheek.
“i wanted to say sorry about before.”
your eyebrow quirks up, interest so clearly peaked as you cock your head to the side.
“what do you mean?”
a smirk crosses his face as he watches you play dumb, head cocked and eyes wide and everything about you with such mock innocence, he thinks that’s what’s driving him the most crazy.
that you do this shit and say certain things with almost complete unawareness and innocence, if it weren’t for the hidden look of desire and teasing in your eyes.
“you know,” is all he says, his voice dipping and eyes twinging darker, it makes your lower stomach swoop.
a part of is positive, even if you ask, he’s not gonna say it aloud.
he’s not gonna say or acknowledge any of this aloud and make you guys play this game until you leave in a few weeks.
and then when you leave, unsure about your next prospects of college or education or even living arrangements, who knows if you’re ever gonna see him again.
so you only hum lowly, closing the fridge behind you and leaving you both in darkness. the only source of light is from the moon outside, lighting up half the kitchen from the large bay window.
it leaves you both incredibly exposed, anyone from the outside able to see the two seemingly innocent bodies standing toe to toe with each other; but they don’t see the lustful looks and eyes full of desire, both of you so entrapped by the other, it’s obvious with the tension in the air.
“oh, well, then... it’s okay, mr. park,” you say with a smile, taking a step back as your eyes roam his chest one last time. “i didn’t mind.”
you’re about to say goodnight when you see his arm reach out, shocked but oh, so ready ready to give into your desire and feel your body crash against his or your lips connect finally.
moan into his mouth and feel more of his hardness against you - but he only takes the water from your hand, presses his mouth against the plastic rim and swigs down a big gulp.
you watch with wide eyes as his adam’s apple bobs in the moonlight, head tipped back and body perched calmly on the counter as he takes a swig of your water bottle, spit exchanged and his mouth right where yours was.
he pulls back with an unreadable expression, licking the excess water from his lips before simply closing the cap, holding out the bottle and smiling at you with the most wise-ass smirk you’ve ever seen, you’re not sure how you’re ever gonna one up this man.
"sweet dreams, y/n.”
strike 3:
your new years weekend get away turned into an extended stay that consisted of sleeping on a lumpy air mattress, five extra guests and so much alcohol, you’re positive you’re still hungover three days later.
“it wasn’t that... we only did a... i mean it wasn’t like we were....” eunbi says, the two of you laying on her bed nursing headaches and body aches to the severest degree.
“okay, it was pretty bad. we were kind of rowdy and out of control.”
“you don’t say?” you grumble, never one to black out and get that shit faced and then doing it nearly every night - maybe to deal with danny’s pathetic soft looks or whispered sweet nothings to you.
“nothing is working either. not advil or water or greasy food. we might’ve fucked ourselves for life, bi.”
but if there’s one thing that always helped for eunbi, it was a nice, long bath. steaming hot water that burned her skin and the prettiest bath bombs to make the entire bathroom smell of strawberries and cream.
so even though you didn’t want to, nothing more comfortable than eunbi’s king size bed and warm, fluffy comforter, you allowed the girl to drag you to the bathroom down the hall to set up ‘your last resort, hangover paradise.’
it consisted of every type of bath bomb and lotion and bubble bath the luxurious could dream of, sending her out immediately when you saw her sneaking in with a glass of champagne.
“are you crazy?” you ask, dipping your toe in the water to test the temperature. “that’s what started this disaster.”
“fine, more for me!” she squeals happily, turning down the lights and pressing the bluetooth button for your phone’s music. “enjoy. i’ll see you in an hour, completely hangover free.”
“we’ll see about that,” you grumble, your words falling on deaf ears as she locks and closes the door to makes her way back to her ensuite.
and as much as you wanna give eunbi shit for her pompous tactics and techniques for everything in life, you have to say that this is certainly helping.
soaking in the steaming hot water, with cucumbers on your eyes and quiet music playing through the ceiling speakers. the jets in the tub also added another layer of relaxation to it, healing your sore muscles from days of waking up on a hard, wooden floor.
the mirrors were steamed and the room was boiling by the time you got out, stepping on the fuzzy bath mat and drying yourself off with a towel. you had tried not to get your hair wet but it proved useless, your relaxed body sinking further and further down until nearly your whole head was wet.
you stretch your arms above your head as you let out a content groan, feeling the best you’ve felt in three days and ready to take a nap.
but it’s at that moment, looking around the large steaming bathroom, that you realized you didn’t bring a change of clothes in. meaning you’ll know have to walk done the hall and into eunbi’s room in just a towel.
it’s fairly late, almost 11:30, so you’re hoping that her parents are in their rooms and fast asleep by now.
you peak your head out, feeling like a spy in a cheesy action movie as you look up and down the hall. you turn off the light once the coast is clear, walking quietly but quickly down to eunbi’s room - or wing, as it could be considered
you’re almost out of the gate, just a few more steps until you round the corner down eunbi’s hallway, when seonghwa’s tall figure is coming right up the stairs.
his head is down as he looks at his phone, still in his dress shirt and tie from his long day at work. you noticed that after the holidays, he’s been around the house less - working from home when he can but also needing to go into the office more often than not.
he’s at the top of the stairs when he finally notices your figure watching him, wrapped in a towel with a flush on your cheeks and your wet hair dripping on the floor.
it seems to be the thing to break him right now, not able to tear his eyes away or think of any fun, flirty comments to keep you from suppressing the need to roll your eyes.
because his days have been long and stressful and the only thing he needs right now is to just get off - and then there you are like something his prayers have answered, standing there quiet and awestruck at the sight of his loose tie and messy black hair he’s been running his hands through all day.
“h-hi, mr. park,” your quiet voice says, sweet and soft-spoken and utterly apologetic, like you’re embarrassed to be caught in just your towel - and he supposes that would make sense, to feel embarrassed about getting caught like this your friend’s father.
but he can’t find it in himself to care right now, two seconds away from dragging you down to his office so he can finally fuck you over his desk - but he knows that would be the worst decision in the world, for countless reasons.
“hi, y/n,” he grumbles back just as low, leant against the railing with a voice that sounds defeated and gruff.
“are you okay?” you ask, something about his voice and demeanor off.
he has to hold back a strangled laugh, his lips quirking up before he bites down on his lip.
“i’m... i’m fine, thanks. work’s just busy,” he says, a certain part of his chest warming at the fact you even asked - he knows his wife won’t when he walks in their bedroom in a few minutes.
“oh, okay,” you respond, twirling with the end of your towel nervously. “well... i’m sorry to hear that.”
he allows himself to let out a chuckle this time, shaking his head as he looks over your bare, wet face; you’re too pretty for your own good, he’s not even sure you realize just how pretty you are.
just how much he really wants you and just how much he’s coming to like seeing you in his house everyday.
“it’s alright, that’s why you gotta do something you love, right?” he quips, his long fingers up to recreate a camera, pressing down as if to snap a photo.
it cause you to let out a soft, genuine giggle, nodding your head and easing the slight embarrassment of him catching you in a towel.
“right,” you say with a smile, shy smiles and gazes shared until you finally look away in fear of your cheeks warming again.
but it doesn’t stop him from admiring the view of you, your bare face and exposed chest before the towel covers up all the parts he wants to so desperately explore.
he pictures dropping your towel and hearing it fall to the floor with a plop, take in the sight of your perky boobs and hard nipples in the air.
drop his mouth just a little bit to your neck, pressing small kisses against your skin as his fingers knead your nipples, all the quiet moans and breaths to make sure you two don’t get caught shooting right to his cock.
he probably wouldn’t be able to control himself, sliding a finger into you right then and there in the middle of the hallway, pressing your back against the wall to have you trapped against his larger body.
he’d pump his finger in and out of you slowly and tauntingly, hearing how wet you are and feeling how tight you are. it’d be similiar to how this past month has just been both of you taunting and teasing and beating around the bush, occasionally letting his fingers curl to his your g-spot or graze your sensitive clit.
and then he’d drop to his knees to taste you. make sure he sucks and licks and takes your clit in his warm mouth that you’re-
“i should get back to eunbi,” you finally say, breaking the silence and ripping him from his dirty, hidden fantasies. you can’t take the lust and desire in his eyes that you see when he looks at you, an painful ache building between your legs more and more.
“goodnight, mr. park.”
you nearly run into eunbi’s room and slam the door had you not seen her sleeping form, passed out right there in the middle of her bed wearing a baby pink robe.
you look beside her to see an extra one laid out, a silky lilac one that causes a small smile to cross your face.
you’ve never felt material like this on your skin, basking in the feeling of the smooth, silky material as you clean up her room quietly - both to tidy up and distract you from the ache in your legs and last encounter with her father.
for eunbi growing up with housekeepers and nannies her whole life, it always surprised you how clean and tidy your roommate was; the sink was never full of dishes and you alternated vacuuming the living room carpet.
but it’s obvious all of that is a facade because since the moment she got home, her messy ways have shown through - you find it endearing, though, and it’s all very eunbi: a homey, lived in mess of luxurious items and articles of clothing worth more than your childhood home.
the girl in question had moved to the right side in her sleep as you cleaned, a quiet chuckle leaving your mouth. you look to see both your water bottles are empty, deciding on the brave decision to go downstairs to grab two new ones.
the last time you’d done that, you thought for sure mr. park was gonna jump your bones - and you know you were gonna let him.
your mind is littered with memories of that night as you make your way through the dark house of twists and turns, carefully going down the stairs as you walk toward the kitchen.
there’s a room with beautiful double doors on your left, a room you’ve walked past hundreds of times throughout your stay here. eunbi told you it was her dad’s first floor office, where he usually worked and had his meetings from home.
the first thing you notice from down the hall is that the door is slightly cracked open, a peak in from the dimly lit kitchen showcasing some fancy decor of a globe.
as you make your way closer and closer, your ears are met with a quiet, strangled groan that causes you to stop in your tracks; your mind begins to race with a million different scenarios of what you could be walking past right now.
your first thought is that you’re about to see mr. and mrs. park in a very compromising position over his desk - and, as sick as it sounds, as delusional and crazy and absurd as it sounds, that prospect makes your stomach sink and twist painfully.
but that would be normal, you suppose; they’re a fucking married couple after all and seonghwa had seemed stressed from work. obviously he was gonna ask his wife to help calm him down and relax him.
get all of his stress out in the form of-
you shake your head before you can even think about it, forcing your feet to move past the office doors.
and it’s like you can’t even stop yourself from peeking in, confirming to see if your thoughts are correct and you’re about to be gutted, when you take in the sight before you.
seonghwa still in his loose tie and white dress shirt, pants around his ankles and his head thrown back in his office chair as his own hand jerks his cock off.
everything about it is dirty and wrong and you know you shouldn’t be looking in but you can’t stop.
you can’t stop watching the way his hand works around his cock expertly, long and thick and so fucking nice it nearly makes you drool. the thought of you on your knees before him, taking him in your mouth and licking and sucking around the tip, making you bite back a moan.
you can’t stop your eyes from looking at his face, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut with his neck on display - perfect for you to bite and give hickies, if you were on top straddling him.
you can’t stop the painful ache and wetness seeping in your thong as you watch him get off, his groans and grunts and heavy breaths making you wanna whine out in arousal.
and it’s that suppression right there, getting so worked up and horny over the sight of your peeping tina activities, that cause you to pull yourself away.
because as much as you don’t want to and as much as you wanna help him, you can’t.
you can only scramble into the kitchen and get water as fast and quiet as humanly possible, scurrying past the office and up the stairs with the stealthiness of a lion.
you can only lay in bed with the thoughts of your roommate’s father and the noises he makes, the sight of his cock and the hand movements replaying over and over in your mind.
and you realize that night, with only a few more days until you both have to leave for the spring semester, you can only hope to never see mr. park again.
let this flirtation and fascination and utterly screwed up infatuation with your roommate’s dad be nothing but a dirty memory you’ll keep to yourself for the rest of your life.
because if it’s not, if you have to see him again and have him in your daily life again, you won’t be able to hold yourself back.
your lust will turn deeper and you’ll find yourself in a much bigger issue than damp underwear and secret, forbidden moments with mr. park seonghwa.
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you should’ve known with only two days left of your stay that eunbi was gonna let the news slip.
you were at least grateful for the fact that mrs. park had a charity ball with her clan of “botox getting, bitchy sounding gold diggers who need to desperately get laid,” successfully riding her of your last friday night dinner.
“so you girls don’t want a new apartment then?” seonghwa asked, glass of wine in his hand as he looks at the two of you questioningly. “that building’s looking for a new owner, eunbi, i think it’d be perfect for you both.”
“dad don’t be ridiculous, we can’t own the building!” eunbi says, swatting her dad playfully as she shovels a piece of food in her mouth. she’s casual and comfortable without her mom’s prying eyes and biting tone, her foot resting on the white fabric beneath her.
“and besides, i might be alone in there soon. we still don’t know if y/n is gonna be starting her-”
you kick the girl under the table roughly, her face pulling into a wince as a cry leaves her mouth.
“ow, y/n! what the he-”
but it’s upon seeing your white face and annoyed expression that she realizes what she said, her mouth falling open and silent as she looks at you apologetically.
“oh shit...”
you can only shoot her a pained, sarcastic smile, daringly looking at seonghwa who’s watching the two of you with a curious expression.
“what do you mean?”
silence hangs in the air, you and eunbi sharing side eyes and dejected looks with her dad before he cocks an eyebrow at the both of you.
“girls... what do you mean?” he asks, his voice deeper and more serious, taking on a dad-like tone eunbi isn’t used to hearing from her relaxed, playful father.
and that’s when, before eunbi can open her big mouth any further, you calmly and regretfully explain the situation with your scholarship.
how you got an e-mail a few months ago about alternate funding for the art department and that you were one of the many students who, while keeping up your end of requirements, could not be awarded money.
“it’s awful that they can do that,” seonghwa says, his eyes full of the same sympathy and outrage eunbi’s held - except he knows that this happens all the time. that it’s unfair and sick and a big ploy in the education system that needs incredible reform.
especially when it hurts students like you.
“yeah but it is what it is,” you say, trying your hardest to steer the conversation to literally anything but this (in fear that you’ll scream or start crying or have yet another anxiety attack).
“i can just finish up in the fall, it’s no big deal,” you lie through our teeth, a sad smile on your face as you look at eunbi. “i’m just sorry it messes up our combined graduation party.”
a frown crosses eunbi’s face as she smacks you in the arm, pulling you closer to her just so she could cuddle herself into your arm.
“i will wait for you,” she proclaims dramatically, a pout on her lips and starry-eyed look in her gaze. “i will wait as long as i have to. if they delay it any further, father, you will simply have to sue the school.”
“father, huh?” seonghwa hums lowly, his lips quirking into a smirk.
father is the term eunbi uses when she wants to use him and his money, whether it be blackmailing unfair teachers or shitty students or calling for him when her and her mom are fighting.
“yes, father,” she says, looking to you with a sweet, apologetic smile on her face.
“i’m serious, y/n. we got your back,” she quips with a wink, a pained smile on your face that she knows means you can’t wait to let her have it when you two are alone.
“you had one job, eunbi, and you were doing so good,” you say in her room later that night, pacing back and forth as she sits on her bed like a scolded child. “literally two nights left and you let it slip out!”
“i’m sorry, okay!” she whines for the ninth time, a pout on her face as she plays with fingers; you wanna roll your eyes seeing it, knowing for a fact that’s something she does when she’s in trouble with jiwoon.
“i didn’t mean to, it just slipped out!” she begins to defend, “and it was only my dad! he wouldn’t dare say a bad word about you, y/n, he loves you.”
you ignore the twinge in your chest when you hear her say those words, feeling a tad guilty at the bodily reaction you have about her own father. how much you’re hiding from her and that you have these suppressed feelings and secret moments in the first place.
“loves me or not, bad word or not, it’s still embarrassing, eunbi,” you say, a frown on your lips as you start to hear the situation aloud. 
“i still can’t pay for my tuition and have to wait almost a whole year to take a degree in fucking photography. like how embarrassing is that, all of this just for me never find a job and live in a box.”
you’ve only seen a flash of anger on eunbi’s face a few times in your life, the incident with the dorm girls and her dad and when a sorority girl tried to kiss jiwoon at the bar.
and you see it right now, her small but mighty frame jumping off the bed and lunging toward you quickly.
“are you kidding me!” she squeals, smacking you in the arm and pushing you down on the bed.
“what the hell do you mean a degree in fucking photography? or living in a box? you’re gonna be the best photographer in the world and shoot every event in my life and charge me quadruple the amount!”
a smile pulls at your lips as you hear her go on and on, hype you up and build up your confidence and tell you to never talk that way about yourself again. how there’s nothing embarrassing about not being able to afford thousands of dollars when you were alerted about the expense on such short notice.
“okay, okay, i know that,” you eventually give in, letting out a sigh as you flop down on her bed. “it’s just.... stressful. i can’t move back home but i also need to get like, a real job. a job that’s gonna pay well so i can save up as much as possible.”
“and we’ll find you that when we get back,” she says, assuring with a confident look in her eye and her hands in yours. “i can promise you, with or without my father’s connections, we’re getting you a job.”
her words prove to reassure you for the remainder of the night, when, after she kisses your ass a little more, asks if she can go to jiwoon’s for a little.
you spent that time in her room looking at nearby job offerings and building up your resume and cover letters, working well into the night hours with a text from jiwoon that she fell asleep and will be back in the morning.
you stretch your arms above your head with a quiet groan, noting it’s almost one o’clock and you’re fucking parched yet again.
it’s no surprise to you when the lights in the kitchen are on, dimly light and no noise around as you pad your way to the fridge.
you almost expect the footsteps that come in a few moments later, when you take a sip from your water and close the fridge without hesitation.
“have you told your parents about tuition?”
you’re confused by the statement that leaves seonghwa’s mouth, brows pulled together and a sinking feeling in your stomach at this conversation again - because as if tuition wasn’t enough, he just had to bring up your parents.
but you don’t wanna beat around the bush any longer; you two seem to do that enough.
“me and my parents don’t talk,” you say, straight forward and quiet as you look right at him.
it’s the first time he sees you look a little broken and defeated, a certain kind of sadness shining behind your eyes that makes him wanna pull him into you. it feels like a protective instinct he’s used to, caring for the people in his life and not wanting to see them struggle.
“they wouldn’t help me anyway.”
this protective instinct feels a little different in this moment, something else tugging in his chest that he hasn’t felt in a very long time - not until he started seeing you more.
“but it’d be a shame if you didn’t finish, y/n. you got so far and you’ve done so well for yourself.”
you smile a little at the praise, tongue rolling over your lips in a way he certainly doesn’t miss - but this moment isn’t about that. it’s not something he cares even a little bit about right now.
“thank you, mr. park, but i am gonna finish,” you say with finality, the confident and sure tone making a strange sort of pride swell inside of him.
“i just have to save up money and i’ll start in the fall. it’s really not that big of a deal,” you tell him with a smile, taking a few steps back so you don’t feel too crowded by him.
“eunbi’s gonna help me look for jobs when i get back,” you say, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you look at him. “a big girl job. something real and hard, that’s gonna make me super stressed and agitated.”
so much so that i have to get off at the thought of you.
a deep chuckle bubbles out of him that you match with ease, the two of you sharing small smiles and quiet giggles in the middle of this spotless, white kitchen.
“can’t do what you love quite yet, i guess,” seonghwa says, his eyes roaming your face so slowly and carefully, it makes you a tad bit nervous.
you hadn’t realized how natural and easy this conversation was between you two, like you were talking to someone you’d known your whole life opposed to someone you’ve barely known for four years.
his hand itches to reach up and touch your hair, tuck the soft, silky looking strand behind your ear and watch your cheeks heat up when your skin touches; but instead, he smiles down at you, inching closer until he’s just looming over you and staring down at you with a soft, undetectable look in his eye.
“but it’ll be worth it in the end, i think. it’s just gonna... take some time.”
you lick over our lips, throat and mouth suddenly so incredibly dry, as you nod your head.
“yeah, i think so, too,” you say, your lips smushing together nervously before you open your mouth to speak again - this could be one of the last times you’re alone with him.
“thank you for letting me stay with you guys, mr. park. it’s been... really nice spending time with people for the holidays.”
he feels his heart twinge in his chest again, his eyes falling down to your lips and swearing he’s never wanted to kiss someone so bad in his life.  
“of course, y/n, it’s been a pleasure,” he says, a smile quirking at his lips with a hint of something you just can’t quite make out. “maybe we’ll see each other again soon.”
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it was five days before classes started that you got the confirmation e-mail - a message confirming your tuition for the spring semester was paid in full and your current balance was $0.
you had to look over the message for three whole hours making sure you had read the e-mail correctly, even going as far to call the bursar office to make sure they had the correct address.
but they had confirmed with surety that your balance was paid off, urging you to quickly sign up for the classes you need before the day was over.
“okay, you will never believe what interview i was able to score for you,” eunbi says the moment she walks in the apartment, shopping bags up her arm and gucci sunglasses perched atop her head.
“i’ll admit, the vibe was a little off with the coworkers but i think it’d be a great opportunity to-” her eyes catch your laptop screen on the school website, a list of classes and times on your screen that causes her eyes to widen.
“oh?” she squeals, running over and throwing herself down on the couch beside you. “what the heck are you doing? are you... did you...?”
the lie came way too quick and easy to you, excitedly blabbering out that there was a change in the system and your scholarship was approved - “i think they felt bad that i was a graduating senior,” you said, eunbi’s face pulled into the happiest smile you’ve ever seen.
she clapped and danced and bounced around in excitement, proclaiming you guys just had to go out and get drinks to celebrate the fact that your surprise party was back on.
but you could only sit there with your thoughts and suspicions and this overwhelming feeling deep within your stomach that, while eunbi definitely doesn’t know, her father might’ve just paid your college tuition in full.
(part 2)
tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @hyunjeansuniverse @cherryeonii @songsoomin @reeateez @biaswreckingfics @yunhoiseyecandy @sophrosyneeeee @uglychildd @happycandynoelle @seolarjk @liqhtiny @maedesculpaeusoubi @revehosh @svt-mangos @hcwurld @ateezappreciation @sanisms​ @khjssss​ @yixing-jaehyun​ @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek​
couldn’t tag: @ateez-after-dark @arkive78 
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obeydontstray · 2 years ago
Text
The Road to Nowhere (Leads to Me)
(set between season 2 & 3. No relationship, father/son guidance) 
https://archiveofourown.org/works/40270053
Eddie’s in trouble again, and Chief Hopper has been called.
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Hopper rounded the corner of the hallway in Hawkin’s High, headed for the Principal's office. His face fell when he saw who was waiting on him. Eddie Munson sat on the bench next to the office door, arms folded over his chest and his leg bouncing furiously. 
“Eddie…” Jim sighed. “Again kid?” 
Eddie raised his shoulders in a defeated shrug and for the first time Jim got a good look at the kid’s face. 
“Look at me.” Jim said as he stood in front of the boy. Eddie looked up at Jim and Jim swept the hair out of the kid’s face. He had a hell of a shiner coming on. “Wanna tell me what happened?”
Before Eddie could answer, the school secretary walked out. 
“Get him out of here, Jim. He’s out of control.”
“Clearly.” Jim said with an exaggerated eye roll. 
“I’m not kidding! He started a fight with the basketball players!” Eddie scoffed and Jim shot him a look that made him back down. 
“Come with me kid, you know the drill.” Jim told him, motioning for Eddie to stand. 
“You’re not gonna cuff me again?” Eddie asked as the two began walking. 
“You’re not a criminal, Eddie, we’ve been through this too many times. I’m not gonna keep walking you out of here like you’re one.”
Outside Jim nodded towards his truck and Eddie climbed in the passenger side. Jim’s eyes flicked to Eddie’s heavily ringed right hand. The silver jewelry was stained with red. 
“They seriously think you started a fight with…how many basketball players?” 
“Four.” The young man replied. 
“Four burly guys jump you and they call me to take you to jail?” 
“I know, pretty fucked up right? They said they were calling you because I drew blood. Jason’s walking around with skull imprints on his forehead.”
“They’re still bullying you?” Jim said, stealing a glance at Eddie then looking back at the road. 
“Of course! I mean that’s what you get when you sell your soul to the devil, right? When you dare to be different. All I want to do is exist in peace.” He sighed and laid his head back against the headrest. His left eye was ringed with blue and purple now, nearly swollen shut. 
“Have you seen your Mom lately, Eddie?” 
“Yeah. I gained a new uncle ya know, an uncle John or some shit. I’m sick of having uncles.” He said, making quotations in the air when he said the last word. “I think she’s gone again. I hope it’s for good this time.”
“Do you have any close family? I can’t just dump you off at home knowing there’s no one there to take care of you.” Jim said. “You’re still a kid, whether you like it or not.”
“I’m almost seventeen, Chief. And I’ve been taking care of myself my whole life. Dad went out to get a pack of smokes three years ago and I haven’t seen him since. Get a call from him from the prison sometimes though. And who knows when the last time Mom will decide to grace me with her presence.”
Jim thought better of asking how he gets money. He had heard the rumors. He didn’t particularly care for drug dealers, but the kid sold small-time weed on the side to get by, and Jim turned a blind eye.
“Have you thought about getting a job, Eddie? It’d help you stay stable until she comes home-” 
“If, if she comes home.” Eddie corrected him. “Uncle Wayne, he said he might move in soon. He's been looking for work since the mill shut down where he lives.” 
“Uncle as in actual uncle or…” Jim dared to ask. 
“Actual Uncle. Mom’s brother. Fuck no I wouldn’t live with one of mom’s Johns.” 
“Don’t say that, Eddie.” 
“Why? It’s the truth. She’s been a prostitute since Dad left. She’s just smart enough to go out of city limits to pick up guys so you can’t get her for it.”
Jim sighed, leaning back in his seat and Eddie looked over at him. 
“Am I free to go?” Eddie asked. 
“Yeah, you’re okay kid. It’s bad enough you’ve been held back a year…Eddie try to keep yourself out of trouble so it won’t happen again.”
“You try studying, Chief, when you live in a shithole with an equally shitty mother with her string of sugar daddies. Imagine trying to walk through the hallway and getting shoved into lockers every day. I barely say a word in class and they like to beat the shit out of me. This is my fourth black eye and we’re not even halfway through the year yet.”
“So who is it that’s beating you up? Tell me and I’ll talk to them.” Jim said. 
“Tell you? Shit chief, if you go to them they’ll be even harder on me. I’m not a fucking snitch.”
“Hey, language.” Jim warned and when Eddie smiled at him. 
“Thanks for the ride home Chief, but I have some homework to do. At least the house is quiet right now.” He shrugged as he reached for the door handle. 
“Eddie.” Jim said, causing the teen to stop and look back at him. “If you need anything, let me know.” 
“Got a spare couple hundred? I’ve been looking at this guitar downtown, she’s so sweet…” 
“Get out of my truck, Munson.” Jim laughed. “I mean it though. Food, rides. Just let me know.” He pulled a white card from his sun visor and passed it to Eddie. “My office number. Don’t suffer with stuff, I’m not just here to punish you.” Eddie looked over his shoulder at the cop and took the card before he stuffed it in his jeans pocket.
“Fuck the police.” Eddie grinned before hopping out of the truck and slamming the door behind him.  
Jim sighed and started the truck. His heart was broken over the idea of the young kid out here in a trailer park of all places by himself. This wasn’t the greatest part of town, but that didn’t mean that the people who lived there were bad, he reminded himself. Maybe one day, Eddie could get free of this place  and rise above this shit. To be that good kid Jim could see hiding under the surface. Only time would tell. 
Thinking about it, Jim scribbled a note on a piece of paper and stepped from the truck, walking to Eddie’s door. He folded up a hundred dollar bill and stuck it and the note in the screen door. 
The next day when Eddie found it, he would smile to himself over the note that read NOT FOR A GUITAR.
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sooghostwriter · 5 years ago
Text
Chef Soo. Three meals a day
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Pairings: Do Kyung Soo x OC (Nameless, but I refuse to use Y/N)
Genre: Romance, AU, fluff, slow burn I guess. A molecule of angst. 
BREAKFAST: Lemon Pie
The coffee owner and the baker
An important part of opening a cake shop/coffee shop was having an actual baker. She only had the good ideas and the money.
Fives chefs applied to the job and only one of them was smart enough to bring a taste of his cooking. Kyung Soo arrived with a lemon pie that tasted like heaven. It was also her favorite sweet. A match made in heaven. She hired him on the spot.
And she thanked that decision every day.
If she had to describe Kyung Soo in one word it would be an ant. Working none stop, focused on his job and a great team player. He was quiet and a bit serious, but he was her voice of consciousness.  Whenever she came out with an idea that was unusable, he would tell her, with a lot of respect but stern. In other words, this is stupid, don't do it. Although sometimes that made her feel restricted. Because yes, macaroons were expensive and hard to do. But they were in trend. And a cake covered with macaroons could tempt anyone. It would be expensive, but she was sure they could sell at least two cakes per day. Or two cakes during the weekend “What about the work involved? Personally, I haven’t had good experiences making macaroons, and if we make them, I would have to neglect something, like the Mille-Feuille that sells great during the weekends” She felt smaller and smaller sitting on her chair. She knew he was right, of course he was. But her vision! She has seen it on her mind, a round cake covered in sweet almond pillows in pastel colors, maybe with some edible glitter on top “I know you have this Pinterest image in your head, and I can see it too, but we can’t risk that much yet, maybe in a couple of months…you could get another chef and they could be in charge of more complicated sweets, but for now, I don’t think we can do it” “I get it Kyung Soo, thank you for your honesty” “Are you ok? You look very disappointed…I mean…I could..” “No, don’t worry, Kyung Soo, you are the chef you know better than me, and I like that you are like this, just…don’t be so bland about it, this is my dream and I’m happy because it’s working, so I may get excited about it” “I’m sorry” He looked less stoic when he said it. Apologetic. He patted her shoulder and went to take the muffins out of the oven. The day Kyung Soo came to work for the first time they spend an hour talking. She shared her vision for the coffee, a cozy, calm and familiar place where people went after work when they didn’t want to go out with their coworkers, where a mom could go and read a book after leaving the kids with her husband, maybe where students could go for the wi-fi and  regain some energy for the last class of the day. Of course she wanted to gain money, after all, she quit her job, took all the money from the unemployment insurance, sold her car, the jewelry her grandmother gave her and took a loan so she could open her coffee shop. She told him that for now, they needed to focus on flavor and quality. A small assortment of sweets to buy, and a menu of sweet things to serve like crepes and pancakes.  He was immediately on board. He came up with the menu and the tarts, cakes, cookies, and desserts that they would sell. The first month was slow but steady, the second month was better, but not what they expected. By the third month, things took off. Kyung Soo’s Eclairs were always sold out by lunch, the Mille-Feuille cake needed reservation and people bought the chocolate mousse in bulks. They were extremely busy, but every day they reached their goal of the day. Kyung Soo worked as hard as she did. She never asked him, but she always had the feeling that for him this was his business too, his dream. Or at least he treated her dream has his. They were a perfectly synchronized team.
By the sixth month, she had already paid the loan. Just a couple of months and she would be able to hire a couple of people that could help Kyung Soo, now he had to do magic with his own hands and a part-timer. They grew closer too. Very slowly. Kyung Soo wasn’t distant or cold, but work was too much, and the only relationship they could have was a working relationship. Friendship was impossible when they were busy building up the business, cooking, fighting with the suppliers and putting down small fires, figuratively of course, except for one time. But under those circumstances, you end up knowing someone better than you know yourself. You end up getting used to that person’s company, voice, presence even his little habits. Like how he would tight his apron after putting something in the oven, or the cute face he made when whipping cream. She knew them all, since her eyes searched for him most of the time.
By the end of the year, Kyung Soo was interviewing someone for the position of baker. But the situation was better than what they expected, so they hired two new people. Kang Jisoo was a great patisserie with expertise in food styling “She can be in charge of the pretty sweets” Kyung Soo told her when they were going through her CV. She beamed in excitement. Jisoo was going to be Kyung Soo’s right hand. One of the CV’s caught their attention. He was also a baker, but he had an internship in France making bread “People keep asking us if we sell bread” “Can we hire him?” He asked with controlled excitement. She gave it a little thought, she liked the idea, but she was thinking on giving another use to the extra money they were making “Kyung Soo, actually, I wanted to give you a raise” He looked at her warmly, and she felt it all over her body. His eyes were always so expressive, he didn’t need to say anything. He was grateful “Thank you, but I can manage for now with the money I make, let’s hire him, and you raise my pay later” Kyung Soo was expecting something like that. Not because he wanted it, but it was something she would do. He heard her talk about it with her mom once. He could always hear her conversations in her office due to the glass door. She told her how she thought Kyung Soo wasn’t getting paid what he deserved. But she told him once that they were a team, they were in this together, and he promised himself to support her in this dream. So if now the right thing was to hire two new bakers instead of raising his paycheck, so let it be. So on Monday, the lovely Kang Jisoo and the bright Byun Baekhyun arrived, ready to start working. Kyung Soo took Jisoo and didn’t release her for the rest of the day. She did the same with Baekhyun, they came up with an assortment of 6 types of bread and his schedule. That day after a long day at work they went for dinner. They were very tired but excited to survive their first day at work. At one point in the night, she saw her new two coworkers with motherly eyes. They were cute, cheerful, with such a great disposition and most importantly, very talented. She caught Kyung Soo looking at his new coworkers too, stopping at Jisoo for a long second. She was surprised by how that made her feel. --- Since Baekhyun arrived, her mornings were more energetic. Baekhyun’s shift began at 5 am and ended at 2 pm. Since he was in charge of bread, those needed to be done during the morning. She arrived at 8 am, and was welcomed by a nice loaf of warm bread and a coffee that Baekhyun prepared for her. She got to share a lot with Baekhyun. He was the typical happy go lucky guy, who was always chirpy and who’s second language was flirting. Not on purpose, it was just part of his personality.
Byun Baekhyun was the typical energetic guy. He was always laughing, always making everybody laugh, your instincts would always tell you to like someone like him. And he has won her trust and friendship in a matter of days. Kyung Soo was always jealous of guys like him. He was so jealous of Baekhyun. But it was impossible to hate him. He enjoyed being around him, although they didn’t have a lot of time to share he enjoyed watching him. But he didn’t enjoy watching her laughing with his jokes. He never made her laugh like that.  
It was Friday and Jisoo asked them if she could leave earlier for a friend’s birthday. They looked at each other and nodded at her at the same time. She was still young, she deserved to party, she commented as Jisoo left “She is a couple of years younger than you, don’t be so dramatic” He answered with a chuckle. She giggled with him, and Kyung Soo was sure this was the first time that happened, and he felt stupidly proud of himself. It was time to close and they were the only ones left working “Like the old times” He commented. He was right. It was like the old times. She couldn’t believe that her little but ambitious dream was going strong. The income now was steady. The coffee shop was never empty and Kyung Soo’s cakes were very popular. She stayed at the door of her office looking at Kyung Soo washing his hands. She knew she was looking at him lovingly, but he wasn’t paying attention so she allowed herself to do so. Their time to leave was closer, but she didn’t want to leave yet. She wanted to be with him a little bit more “Hey, I got emotional all of the sudden, wanna go for dinner, also known as drinks?” She asked as soon as the idea formed in her head, so in that way her common sense wouldn’t get in the way “Sure, let me go change” Kyung Soo dashed into the dressing room and left her there in shock. This was the first time they would go out together. They went to the usual spot where the four of them would go for dinner after a good week of sales. Kyung Soo ordered fried chicken and she went for a bowl of ramen. They ate in silence, a comfortable one. She took a spicy wing from his plate and he ate several spoons of broth from her bowl. The place started to get packed and the buzz in the air made them began to talk. It started with work talk, plans for next week, the menu for the coming summer, and the possibility of changing one of the providers “How do you feel about Jisoo and Baekhyun?” He asked her, moving the empty plates aside, resting his elbows on the small table “Great, I think we made a good decision hiring them, are you ok with Jisoo?” “She is perfect, she works diligently, her cake designs are terrific, and she is very nice to be around” The word Perfect kept resounding in her head “Baekhyun is good too, he makes amazing bread and he knows how to use the coffee machine” He commented, but it sounded very robotic “I’m always the one making coffee, so is nice to be served for once” Kyung Soo came to the realization that the only time he cooked for her was when he made that lemon pie for his job interview. He was her right hand, she put all her trust in him, and he couldn’t bake her a simple cupcake. He would change that as soon as possible. He couldn’t allow Baekhyun to win. He immediately felt embarrassed by his childish thought. They stayed there for an hour and a half talking. As always, about work, but there was something more. He took advantage of the situation, the atmosphere and the sensation he got from having her so close, smiling, joking with him, sharing with him. He felt hopeful, and when he went back home, for the first time he allowed himself to…imagine.
She arrived the next morning ready to fight with a couple of suppliers and to work on finances. Those were her least favorite things, but she was the one in charge of them, and she was kind of good at it. She was halfway done with her first task when Kyung Soo knocked at her glass door and went in “I brought you this” He said, leaving a mini lemon tart on her desk “For the old times” He said, not meeting her eyes and turning around quickly, disappearing into the kitchen. She grabbed her tart and bit into it without the need of a fork “For the old times” She mumbled to herself, giggling. She remembered with effervescence that afternoon when they met. She wondered if she liked him from that very moment. When she noticed that he was smart enough to bring a sample of his baking, to the interview to become baker at a bakery. Maybe her standards were too low.
As Kyung Soo was beating the eggs for the merengue of the lemon pie, he began thinking about her. He has been doing so since last night. Having a one on one time with her was unique, to say the least. On his ride home, and then on his morning commute to his job he kept recalling those first months working with her. Her determination, her strength, her curiosity. The times he could hear her from her office being passive-aggressive with the fruit providers. Or every time he arrived and found her sleeping at her desk. He wished he was caring enough, or brave enough to have made her coffee when that happened, to bring her a freshly baked donna. Baekhyun would have done it for sure. He also remembered the days he left work, just to come back to pick something he had forgotten and found her crying in her office. Always out of frustration or fear. All those times that he saw her so vulnerable and hurt he wanted to hug her. His arms itched to reach her and pulled her into his chest. To take the worry away. Just pass some of his calm onto her. But he was never brave enough. What they had was too precious to risk. Was too new to risk.
But then one day he realized that it wasn’t too new, but old. His feelings were well settled in his chest, and he had lost time. He could risk things now. But she was looking at someone else now. He would have to live with the craving his arms felt for her. 
--- That Friday they had a terribly busy morning. And they would have some problems for the afternoon too since Jisoo cut her finger and was currently at the ER with Baekhyun. She left the part-timer on front and went to the kitchen to check on Kyung Soo “How are you doing? Need any help?” “Yes, I need to finish decorating these cupcakes, someone is going to pick them up in an hour, could you do that so I can take care of the orders?” She could do that much. She rolled up her sleeves and got to work “Wait!” Kyung Soo stopped her, holding one of her arms. He pulled a scrunchy from his right pocket and turned her around, sliding his fingers in her hair “What are you doing?” Her voice was a bit higher due to the surprise “You can’t do this with your hair down, so I’m braiding it” She stood still. Although she was sure her hands were shaking. She was sure this was the closest he had ever been. She was sure this was the first time he was touching her. His fingers brushed her neck burning her. His movements were a tiny bit clumsy but efficient.  “You are good at this” She commented, trying to relieve the tension “I have practiced a lot with Jisoo, she always forgets to pull up her hair” She closed her eyes and released a long sight. He was already so close to her. Of course, they were. They work arm to arm, moving around the kitchen like a unit. But she and Kyung Soo also functioned as a unit. For a long time.  Sure, she wasn’t a chef, but they were partners. Not officially. He was a worker, just like Baekhyun and Jisoo. Bur for her he always felt like more. He built the menu and signature of the coffee shop. People went there for his cooking. This coffee shop belonged to both of them. -- She arrived the next morning and found Baekhyun moving around the kitchen slower than normal “You look blue,  is everything okay?” He sighed heavily, resting his body against the wall “Not really, You think Kyung Soo hates me?” “I don't think he knows how to feel that, why are you asking?” He walked with a heavy step to her side and rested his head on her shoulder like a gloomy puppy “I try to get close to him the little time our schedules overlap but he is so cold with me, he laughs but is always a shy laugh, meanwhile, Jisoo almost chokes to death the other day because of something I said” “He is very stoic” She tried to divert his line of thoughts “No,  he kind of ignores me and I want to be friends with him, he is so cool” “You want me to talk to him?” He lifted his head and went to the dressing room with slow steps “No, what are you going to tell him anyway? I just hope he doesn't have a bad image of me”  She followed him patting his back, understanding his feeling. She also wished Kyung Soo could give her more attention. “Good morning” Kyung Soo arrived, greeting and walking past them, into the dressing room “See?!” Baekhyun pointed, shaking her arm “Yeah, that was a bit cutting, you make us some coffee, I will check on him, maybe there's something going on” He nodded pouting and went back to the shop. She knocked the dressing room door, asking him if he was dressed “Yeah,  come in” She opened the door and walked in, looking around, being nonchalant “Hello there chef” “Hello boss” She stood behind him and notice him having trouble tightening his apron “Let me do that, is everything alright?” She asked him as she tightened the straps around his waist “Yes” He answered, his voice low “Everything alright with Jisoo?” “Couldn't be better” She made a double knot and tapped his shoulder telling him she was done “Everything ok with Baekhyun?” “Sure”   “You like him?” He sat down, taking off his shoes “He is great, although we don’t share the kitchen that much, why are you asking?” “No reason, just making sure everything is ok” “Sure, ok, then if you are done, I need to change my pants” She turned around quickly and left the room. When she went to the front of the shop, Baekhyun had already served three coffees and had a plate with a loaf of bread and butter “He says everything is ok” “You think he would tell you if he hated me” “I trust he tells me everything, so yeah, don’t worry Baekhyun” “Ok, if you say so, you think he would come to have breakfast with us?” She went to the back again and invite Kyung Soo to have breakfast with them. Kyung Soo accepted and when she arrived with him, she saw how Baekhyun’s imaginary tail began wiggling.
When she asked him to go and have breakfast with them, he really wanted to say no. He had some things to do, and also, if he could avoid seeing them act like old buddies, he would do it. But her questions in the dressing room told him something. She wanted to know how he felt about Baekhyun. He knew she cared about his input about everything, and if she wanted his approval on Baekhyun, she would have it. He liked him after all. He was a good guy. And share breakfast with them could be good.
----
She was talking over the phone with her lawyer when Baekhyun knocked on her door. She gave him a signal to come in and he sat at her desk waiting for her to finish. She was about to end a 20 minutes long call to ask her lawyer what she had to do to make Kyung Soo her business partner. There was a lot of paperwork involved and a lot of visits to the public notary, but it could be done if they both wanted it. She hadn’t asked him yet. She didn’t know how. She hung up and Baekhyun asked immediately what was she talking about since he could hear the last part of the call “I’m thinking about making Kyung Soo my business partner” “He isn’t already?” “No, but he is my right hand, this business his almost half his in terms of development and success, so I want him to have a part of it” Baekhyun looked lost “What are you talking about?” “What?” “I thought you and he had something, no?” She felt her cheeks blush “No, no... Why would you think that?” Baekhyun moved on his seat awkwardly “I don't know, there's always this weird tension between the two of you,  and you guys are always business business business,  but you are all the time stealing glances from each other when the other is not looking, and when you talk you guys are always way too close” His voice lost volume by the end of the sentence “I.. We just..” “You don't have to explain anything... But I may have told you something that you didn't know, so I better go now” She tried to stop him, she needed to know about this weird tension and the stolen glances, but Baekhyun was quick and left the coffee before she could reach him.
----- One Monday morning she got an envelope from a tourism website informing her that the coffee shop was selected as a “One of the coffee shops to visit in Seoul”. The four of them went for dinner that night to celebrate. As always Kyung Soo took care of grilling and serving, always putting more meat on her plate. When Baekhyun and Jisoo complained he said “She’s our boss” His voice was serious, but he was grinning. After a bunch of beers and maybe half a pig she was ready to go. She told the rest they were free to stay and handed her card to Kyung Soo. She got up and Baekhyun grabbed her wrist, stopping her “Let’s share a cab” She agreed gladly, she hated the idea of riding the taxi alone in those conditions.
Kyung Soo felt sick all of a sudden. They were so friendly. They were so friendly since day one. And he was aware that Baekhyun was that kind of person, even he felt close to him the first time they met, but this was different. Baekhyun knew where she lived.  He had known her and been working with her for more than a year and he still didn’t know her address. Meanwhile, Baekhyun was holding her arm to help her stand up. It was over for him.
He had lost his chance. And Baekhyun took his.
-----
She had a good night of sleep that night. She woke up before her alarm went off and the warm water reached the perfect temperature. On her way to work, she didn’t meet a single red light and the coffee Baekhyun prepared for her was especially good. She greeted Jisoo at the kitchen and ran into Kyung Soo when he walked out of the dressing room. She greeted him happily because she was feeling happy and seeing him added to the feeling, but he only nodded at her. It was like a bucket of cold water. All her happiness faded away. Not even in his worst days he had been so cutting. Why was he acting so distant? She tried to convince herself that she was overreacting, reading too much into it, but during the morning she realized that she wasn’t. Even Baekhyun noticed it. Before leaving he commented to her between whispers “Did you say something to him?” “No, no that I remember, Did I? Something happened last night?” “No, nothing, when we were there everything was alright, we talked a lot and laughed with everything I said or did, he even poured me several drinks, and then we…oh crap” Baekhyun mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ “What? What is it?” “You don’t get it? I’m sorry, I feel that this is my fault, at least part of it, ok… I need to go” He grabbed his backpack and left in a hurry, without giving her the chance to ask for more. She cursed at him, still clueless of why Kyung Soo was acting like this, and only with her. That day they had to close the coffee shop early due to the cut of the water service. By 6 the shop was empty, everything washed and ready to close. She arranged everything at her office, moving languidly around the room, still sad about Kyung Soo’s cold shoulder. She wanted to go home and cry maybe. She didn’t like it, she hadn’t heard his voice all day long. He didn’t come to her office not even once to ask her to call the suppliers, or for her to taste something. She was going to steal some donuts from the refrigerator, go home and cry on the shower maybe. She was about to get her period, she was especially emotional, that’s why she allowed herself some self-love. She almost got a heart attack when she walked into the kitchen and met Kyung Soo with his jacket on, reclining against one of the counters, his head down, looking at his hands. When he heard her, he looked up, and hold her stare for a while “Can we talk?” She couldn’t find her voice, so she only nodded and walked next to him. She was terrified. She knew there was something going on with him, and his face of worry and shame prove her right. She wanted to make him feel better. To get rid of that dark stare, help him. Maybe this was the right time to talk to him about becoming business partners, maybe like this, his mood could improve “I need to talk to you about something… I have been thinking about this for a while, is an idea that in the last months has been developing in my head” She saw her hands shaking. She knew he wasn’t talking about a cake or a change in the menu, no one gets so serious to talk about that, not even him. Her last boyfriend said some similar words when he broke up with her. Those words, with that voice and that somber disposition never meant something good. Kyung Soo was about to tell her something terrible “Are you ok? You went pale all of the sudden” She looked up from her hands and found him looking at her face, his hand so close to her cheek she could almost felt its warmth. His entire semblance changed. He was still serious, but worried, his eyes big and round scanning her, searching what was disturbing her. He asked her a couple of times and she didn’t answer until she felt slightly better and under control  “I…it’s just…you have been acting so weird today, and now you are being so serious now, I can’t tell why… I’m terrified” She was sure she wasn’t crying, but she heard her voice break.  Finally, finally after months of craving it, he grabbed her face with careful hands, caressed her cheeks down to her neck and shoulders and pulled her into a hug. He held her by the nape, his right hand sinking in her silky hair, and his other arm held her softly, pulling her against his chest as close as he could. She rested her head on his shoulder, her arms went around his waist and although his hug wasn’t tight, it calmed her down a little bit. She felt him speak. She felt his breathing against her shoulder but couldn’t hear what he was saying. She let go of him and searched for his eyes, but he didn’t meet hers “What did you say?” “I’m sorry” “For what?” He let go of her, his arms falling from her back to his side “What I was going to tell you is that…I have been thinking about moving jobs, maybe is time for me to move on” Her arms went to his waist again. This time her grip was tight. The panic his words caused her stirred her with desperation. If she had to stay like this, hugging him for the rest of her life so he wouldn’t leave, she would do it. She kept asking him not to leave, begging for him to stay. At first, he just let her be, he hugged her too, rubbing her back trying to calm her down, but it came to no avail. Kyung Soo grabbed her arms and unclasped them with a lot of difficulties. He called her name, trying to calm her down, but she held to his arms, still shaken by his news “This could be good for me, and for you too, Jisoo will stay in charge, she cooks the kind of things you like, and maybe a new chef with a new approach could be better for the coffee shop” She was in tears, her lips shaking as the air left her mouth in short and quick puffs. He got worried about her, he felt guilty too “No! No Kyung Soo, you can’t leave me, this coffee is what it is because of you” “Is not, this is your dream, I just helped you” “No, without you I couldn’t have done this, you are my chef, you are my partner Kyung Soo, please don’t…” Kyung Soo took a step back releasing himself from her grip. He looked unsettled, shaking his head, his eyes saddened “Just that? You want me here just because I'm your chef?” “What do you mean?” She asked, cleaning her tears with her sleeve. Kyung Soo took a deep breath after another until he could speak calmly “That's the only thing I am to you right?” She looked into his eyes for a long time. Kyung Soo now was being inquisitive giving her back a stare that intimidated her because she felt naked in front of him. She was sure she never showed her adoration in front of him. She was always professional, they were never flirty or platonic. They did trust each other and talked a lot, but she never felt anything from him, and she was sure she never showed anything more than admiration and respect towards him. She needed to change that “No! No, you are more” Build up the braveness to say more than that was harder than she would expect. “What am I then? And please don’t say your business partner” She noticed in his voice that they were equally desperate. They were equally frustrated and scared about what was happening. There was a lot to lose with this conversation. She could confess and lose her chef and a friend. But if he was so decided to leave, she needed to share with him how much she had fallen for him, because she loved him. And if he decided to leave after her confession and not look for her ever again, at least she got to tell him how she felt. She just wished she could have told him sooner “Kyung Soo…you are all that, but since always you have been my friend” He closed his eyes sighing in frustration “And I love you, I just… I love you so much, you can’t leave me, please don’t leave me” She finished with a string of voice, her hands in fists, her eyes closed, scared. Kyung Soo took two long steps whispering her name, and as she looked up, he cupped her jaw and covered her mouth with his own. She gasped and it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. Kyung Soo grunted softly in return as he dragged his fingertips along her jaw. Kyung Soo’s lips were soft and warm, but calm. It wasn’t a hungry kiss or desperate. He was testing, keeping himself in line. Despite the shock, she still thought she could spend the rest of her days kissing him without getting tired of it. He pulled back just far enough to let the air back into their lungs. His eyes gazed deeply into her eyes, asking for permission, although it was a bit too late now. She closed her eyes and he couldn’t resist too long away from her. He tilted his head catching her breath, and this time he kissed her with intensity. Intensity that she matched. The kiss itself was more tentative than anything, mostly because they were both unsure of what was going on. But she was the first one settling it when she caught his lower lip and suddenly sucked on it. Kyung Soo’s warmth was almost suffocating, and she wanted to taste it. He encircled one arm around her waist, placed the other hand on her nape as if locking her with his body so she wouldn’t leave him. He didn’t want to hold back anymore, he wanted her, he loved her, and she loved him too. Now it was the time to make up for the lost time. Her hands were on his shoulders, his neck, his arms, the sides of his face. It was desperate, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about the tiny frustrated sounds spilling from the back of her throat. She didn’t care that he was leaving her. He was quitting and leaving her behind. She backed away, looking at him wildly “You…Kyung Soo, you…you are lea…” He moved quickly to grab her by the nape, tugging her close so they could rest their foreheads together “It’s ok, I’m here, I’m not leaving” He breathed, stroking the back of her neck tenderly. She still looked fairly terrified, her pupils blown wide and shaking all over, but completely still in his hold “Kyung Soo” She called again, but he shook his head and moved his other hand to stroke her cheek softly “I love you” He whispered, although he knew it was not enough to reassure her now, even after the kiss “You really do?” “We kissed” He whispered against her lips, feeling stupid by saying that, but his mind couldn’t form better words. His fingers caressed the sides of her mouth and god, he wanted to do it again, wanted to seal his mouth over hers for another taste, just to feed that need he has been feeling for months. But he held himself. Instead, he took one of her hands and placed it over his chest, the spot where his heart was beating like crazy. Closing her eyes, she let her senses take over everything, wondering for how long she has been feeling like this, if this is what falling in love feels like, if this is what he feels like. She called his name again, and Kyung Soo called hers. They giggled together, feeling some of the tension dissipate “And…and what does this mean?” She stuttered "No idea" He whispered, and they giggled again. She knew what this was, he knew it too, so she leaned in and kissed him again. When they pulled apart and she opened her eyes she found him smiling brightly. He grabbed her by the waist, lifting and dropping her on the counter. She hugged his shoulders and rejoiced in the feeling of his arms holding her “You are not leaving right?” “No” “Why did you say that?” His ears went red and he looked down ashamed “I thought you liked Baekhyun, and I just couldn’t go through that” She called his name softly, feeling sorry for him, “Just to be clear, I don’t like him” “I know now” She made him look at her again, rubbing his nape “That’s why you were so cold to him?” He nodded, looking at her again “Ok, make sure to be nicer with him ok? He was very sad because he thinks you hate him and he really likes you” Kyung Soo’s eyebrows went up funnily “That’s why you asked me if I liked him?” “Yeah” “I thought it was because you wanted my approval to date him” She was shocked to hear that, and also felt incredibly guilty “Kyung Soo, for how long have you being suffering?” She caressed his face, kissing his cheeks “Kiss me some more so I can forget about that” She grabbed his cute face and kissed him softly, like a caress, an apology. Kyung Soo pulled back from the kiss, his hands moving to her thighs “What you wanted to say before?” She looked clueless for a while, not quite remembering what happened before. She took half a minute to go over the most recent events “Oh yes! I had a proposal for you, here” She grabbed his hand and jumped down the counter, walking with him to her office. If she was lucky enough, after that afternoon she would get a new boyfriend and a new business partner.
The End
Notes: Please, some feedback. 
I think the next story will be up in two weeks. Miso. 
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ghost-hyunjin · 4 years ago
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Another Way to Repay a Debt
TW: Bank setting, mafia deals, mention of cancer, poor sibling relationship, spoiled adult children, death, mention of jail, owing money to someone, mention of stereotype Greek life behaviors, mention of bribes, overbearing mother, parents spoiling a child
“Miss Park, please come in and take a seat,” the bank manager greeted her as the teller brought her to his office. He looked past the woman and addressed the teller, “Annie, would you please close the door behind you and tell everyone we are not to be disturbed.” 
The teller glanced over her shoulder and hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded quickly and shut the door, a bit loudly behind her. 
“You said you’d have the money by this month,” the young woman stated.
The manager tensed up in his desk chair and squeezed the armrest cushions attached to said chair. The loan he borrowed from Rose Park to remove the tumor on his wife’s pancreas. It was already time.
Damn his sister and good-for-nothing brother-in-law, Arthur thought miserably, trying to hide his expression. He sat up straighter in his seat and lowered his head slightly, averting his gaze. 
“Miss Park, please do forgive me,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, “I had the money.”
The young woman raised a brow at the last sentence. She studied the middle-aged bank manager across from her quietly. 
Unlike some of the people who came knocking at her door, Arthur Pendleton was a nervous, but normal man with a wife and no kids. One would think a bank manager would make a cushy salary, but apparently Arthur had been passed over for a promotion and a few days later, his wife was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. The doctors insisted that they remove the tumor immediately to save her life and quoted an astonishing price, even with their health insurance factored in. His wife tried to insist that perhaps they could do chemo instead, but the doctors persisted and Arthur tried to put on a brave smile and said they should listen to the doctors. 
He tried asking his sister and her husband, but they gave the excuse that they needed to pay the school’s tuition for Jeff’s semester. (Arthur was pretty sure that it was really a donation they were giving the school to bribe the administration to not kick their son out after one too many frat parties hosted.) He looked into taking out a loan and then a neighbor that lived five doors down suggested chatting with his contact, which turned out to be Miss Park. 
Arthur had all of the money stored in a separate account and he was prepared to give it to Miss Park and be done with it. But a week and a half ago, his sister came to the bank in tears, sobbing that her son was in jail. He thought it was a DUI or perhaps a neighbor finally won the battle against that spoiled boy’s fraternity, but his sister said otherwise. 
“He killed a student!” his sister wailed. “His peers are calling him a murderer, but he’s innocent! That boy he shoved was a lightweight and it’s not his fault he actually works out!” 
Apparently the school, witnesses, and the victim’s family were saying otherwise, and Jeff was arrested, currently in a holding cell. The bail was set high and his sister was short of the fees needed to get Jeff out. She claimed they sold some of his brother-in-law’s flashy cars and she pawned some jewelry, but it wasn’t enough.
“What about Vic’s parents? Can’t they help too?” he asked. 
“Vic is trying to reason with them, but I need to get my boy out now! Oh Artie, they’re going to kill him there – he won’t survive a week!” his sister blurted out. 
If Arthur hadn’t been so weak, so giving to others, he could have told his selfish sister that he couldn’t help. After all, they ignored his pleas to save his beloved wife Caterina, so why would he help his spoiled nephew who showed him zero respect? He almost told his sister that her son was probably in a station holding cell versus a real prison at this time, but thought better of it. During her visit, she managed to persuade him to cough up all of the money he had for Miss Park’s loan and not once had she asked about Caterina.
Miss Park stared at the bank manager with a serious look and tilted her head slightly. “Unacceptable. But I get it. Your wife was sick.” She paused for a moment to let her words sink in. “When can you get the money, hm?”
Arthur opened his mouth to speak and jumped when the phone on his desk began ringing loudly. He looked at the phone, then at Miss Park. 
She gestured to the phone and he shakily reached for it. 
“Annie, I said–”
“Sir, it’s a call from your sister – she wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Annie interrupted him. “Also, she called me something I can’t repeat here at work. Is she always like that?”
Great, that meant his sister was upset again, he thought. 
“Annie, I’m sorry about her, please put her through,” he sighed. He heard Annie transfer the call and then he heard his sister’s voice. 
“Artie, finally! That idiot girl was so slow and wouldn’t patch me through immediately – when I told her it was a family emergency, she didn’t listen!” his sister rambled. 
“I gave you the money.”
“Now they’re saying the bail is higher!” she fussed as she messed up her hair. “Almost $1 million! Artie, that’s our house! We can’t sell our house right now for our boy, Vic won’t allow it! But I’m scared for every minute he sits there, alone in that cell! Oh and the other inmates must be taunting him, threatening to crack his skull open.”
“Fi, I don’t have any more money,” he said. “Cat is resting after her surgery and I’m trying to keep my household afloat.”
“You have to help!” she whined. “I have no one else to turn to! Our parents, they, they–”
“Fi, we need to talk later, I have a client with me right now and she is on a tight schedule. I’m being quite rude by talking on the phone in front of her,” Arthur interrupted. He hung up and shakily bowed, his head almost touching the top of his desk. “Please forgive me Miss Park.”
Rose had found the conversation intriguing. While normal people wouldn’t snoop, it was impossible to ignore the loud caller’s hysteria in her voice, something about her son. 
“Family?” she asked. 
Arthur raised his head and nodded as he looked at the phone. “My sister. My mom always said she was a pretty little fool. Never got a job but married rich. And now look at what that’s doing to her.” He groaned and rumpled his hair. “I know you are a busy woman and don’t wanna hear my excuses. I had all of it, all of the money to pay you back today. Then my sister comes in and tells me her idiot son got arrested. Now, I thought the kid finally got arrested for too much partying at his college, but apparently he killed a guy.”
Rose raised a brow and Arthur continued as he shook his head.
“Jeff’s not smart or competent enough with a weapon, but you give that knucklehead too much to drink, he thinks he’s the Hulk. Apparently he cornered this other student and pushed him – the other kid fell, hit his head hard, and boom! The kid was dead. Jeff ran for it and now he’s facing murder charges and who does my sister come crawling back to? Me, because I’m the sucker who will help.”
The woman sat forward in her chair a little and leaned forward. “Now your sister is asking for more money?”
“I’m guessing the charges are being raised from accident to manslaughter or something,” Arthur moaned. He slowly folded his hands in front of him and prayed that the woman would let him have a little more time to pay her back. “It’s hers and my lousy brother-in-law’s fault for letting that kid get away with anything. Why, Jeff won’t show me a minute of respect unless you bribed him with a $100 bill.”
The young woman listened as Arthur described the troubled nephew in question. Certainly the boy was stupid and not well-liked by the family, save for his mother and maybe the father. In the brief time she had mixed with the bank manager, she understood that he used her loan wisely and now the wife was stable. As for his pathetic sister…
“I promise, I’ll have the money by September,” Arthur whispered as he raised his head. He noticed that Miss Park was standing up and he scrambled to his feet. “I’ll even pay ex–”
Rose had begun walking to the door and she raised a hand slightly to stop him. 
“Thank you, Arthur. That’ll be all, consider your debt paid. Tell Caterina I send my best.”
@mafia-chae @guitar-sihyeon
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carndriverrecords · 5 years ago
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First Blog Post 3/20/20
Started CnD Records today. Feels Good.
Working on some diss tracks. Not sure if they see it coming - doesn’t matter either way.
Planning to release Car and Driver first real record this Friday 3/20/20. Driving Test Driver Fest 1. 
Self release first record - another 20 tracks next week. Compile top 10 - 15 for first release with other label - thinking Terrible, Kranky, blu ish label or Thrill Jockey. Citrus City a no-go for now. Maybe just keep building CnD records.
Be the middle man - take advantage of opportunities without sacrificing my bands’ (and those I represent) integrity.
Reach sleep destroyer.
Last night at Ted’s - great DJ set. Kidz bop remixes, Fancy. Crowd hated it. Ted disappointed we had to leave but it’s ok with everyone. Tall guy took aux right out of computer, have video. Started dancing - cucked everyone. Everyone thinks they’re the crazy charismatic guy. Am I actually? I think so. Syd thinks so. 
CnD Fest 2 , 3 , 4 at Purchase and beyond. Would like to play apartments, Scully’s den in BK (reach out) and Philly, DC etc.
Next voice memo album - 20 - 25 tracks right now. Better than the first. Danny said best album ever.
Working on “My oh Maia Reason Why” video - my favorite video I’ve ever seen. Getting good feedback.
Important to collab with certain SUNY people before I go:
Members of Lip Critic, Dawson, Neal, Gabe.
Send stuff back and forth with Joseph Kress. 
Need to write song about not sharing a stage w unstable Car and Driver - cost me 2 gigs. Ok because I had the police interaction that night. 
Things have been working out quite well. Syd is keeping me in check. Main priorities are keep the energy going while I can and make sure everyone around me is comfortable with me doing my thing, specifically mom, sofia.
Going to Only Angels tomorrow to collab with Alex.
Tues/Wed in RI with Zach Gorton. Need to see Nick Holcomb, Sofia, Will Orchard if he’s around. Riley in Boston? Would love to. 
Visit Dad soon on the way to Richmond, in a few weeks perhaps. Grandma Roberta etc. They have a BBQ place now - I bet it’s great. 
Follow up in the morning (3 hours from now) with wedding band, Kevin Daniels, drummer etc.
Film sunrise sessions at Purchase: My Ride’s Here, Splendid Isolation, Keep me in your heart, Studebaker, Cat’s in the Cradle, Everybody that you know. Don’t think twice, Boots of Spanish Leather, Someday my Prince, Teenage Dirtbag, Arthur (Woof Woof), Forget You, Signed Sealed Delivered, Superstition, The Promise, Hold me now (TT), Love on Top, Townes Van Zandt, 1-800 superstar, Evan Wright, Tom Petty, Blinded By the Light, Searching for a Heart, Mag Field’s, Barenaked Ladies, TMBG, Dolly Parton one sided love, Byrds, Beatles, Kinks, Stones, Parquet Courts, T Swift (Red, Way I loved you), Mitski, Sasami, Anything Could Happen, Beach House, He Needs Me, These Days, YLT, Beach Boys, Big Star Take Care, G500/Luna, Felt, Psychic TV, Shelia, BJM, Yellow Sarong, Over and Over, Hazel St, Heatherwood, Helicopter, He Would’ve Laughted, I wanna be your lover, The pump, Good enough (sleep destroyer), Them airs, BH (14, indian summer), help me scrape mucus off my brain), Beach Comber, DO YOUR THING, Icehead, Bobby, 1000 times, WIll Orchard, Bon Iver, MGMT, Tame impala, Instant Crush, etc. Art Vandelay, Quick Canal, Stereolab, Grouper, Broadcast, Animal Collective, Panda Bear, Bachelor Kisses, Cranberries, Cure, Pastels, MBV, I found a reason, pale blue eyes, Deerhoof, Gretel Alex G, Dancing w tears in my eyes, Elvis Costello, No age(things i did), Are ya ok, Maus, Ariel, R Stevie, Aphex Twin, Zomes, Vampire Weekend etc.
Bring Laptop for Beats on some and lyrics for all. 
Love life more than ever before. Music feels so good. Want to help, make amends, everything that moondog did. Don’t be homeless much longer.
Not sure if I like throbbing gristle - definitely like Psychic TV.
How savage should diss tracks be? Very? Match the severity of the person’s treatment of me/others. Aka - pretty bad for all except for Auto.
Listened to new Kanye today - 10x better and more influential than death grips. 
Realized today that i’ve spent my whole life wishing I was Kanye and now I am Kanye. Feels very good.
Everyone is gifted but internet makes us angst. 
I am mostly Camus right now - maybe more Kierkegaard soon. Religion and Terrence Malik. Still need to read books.
Order of Books: The graduate Portrait of the artist Consider Lobster Infinite Jest Pynchon Ulysses (At recommendation of American gamer association)
Syd is incredibly gifted. Want to help her feel comfortable doing art/work here in the chaos but also sort out the chaos for both of ours’ sake. I thrive in it, she tolerates well. Want to move to Riverdale still, maybe East Williamsburg with Backpack Chris. We’ll see about money. Philly perhaps, little too far. Jersey is good location but bad commute. Bad to RI. 
Visit RI and Boston Tues - Thurs. Sell Cigarettes at Concerts. Feels right.
Keep smoking for now - quit end of summer perhaps. 
Don’t have Corona Virus - glad we are not quarantined. Still be smart. Don’t expose mom regardless. Protect at ALL costs. 
Really though, why does Journee hate me? Write new track (Journee into forever nevermore not now not ever (Lou)) or Journee into SJW self righteous moral posturing (way too savage - maybe voice memo outro)
AR Kane album is incredible. Syd loves too. Sample everything.
Crazy - sound better at jazz than ever in my life. Exploring harmony - never practice. Teach free lessons all the time. Love the diminished scale. Might be best jazz guitarist to ever live. Time will tell. Would be cool long term. Prefer singing. 
Getting good at piano too.
I’m my favorite lyricist/comedian/actor.
Is maia right, acting isn’t hard? Weird they can’t act.
^Remember to delete^
Don’t share this on Facebook yet.
Why does Journee hate me so much? Just the Louis CK joke?
People who stay home and do nothing hate to see irreverent people doing things.
People like when you’re losing - don’t like to see you win.
^That makes me sound crazy.
F00D outsider might make me famous first.
Need to keep up with legal situation.
Hope mom and dad both live long. Call Syd, get something nice for everyone in family. Get weird jewel cases. Order jewelry from etsy. Post merch on bandcamp.
Finish album art soon. Music videos. Get better at animation etc. Pay Ben for his poster. Actually really good. Maybe album art? Duo album! Record in Wisconsin, release under his name. WIll success be good for Ben? I think so. Still can’t believe Liv told him I wasn’t ok. Wow - good content for lyrics. You truly cannot write this.
How will people react to diss tracks? Extremely negatively. Or no reaction. We shall see. Maybe no real names in the titles...... only on Oh my. 4 names in titles is too many. Don’t release Auto track. Maybe on Voice Memos. 
Track List: Good God Bed Head Rosa Reprise Oh My House Pop 1 skydive Pop 2 APhex GVO Pay 4 Take some Cherish Stars in F Are ya ok too bright Honeys Get to work Everybody That You Know Frost Bit BPC NYC New Age Heimet Helmet Deadbeat dads watermill for slitting bars romantic song david byrne Cinema study in cinema Brain ego Cherry doc marten Can’t liv w/o Venmo groceries Oh you like? Dancin DJ blues We are the State Farm robots Danny dorito is a dirty devito My funny valentine Zoomer blues The thing abt genres Blss Like minds ft dawson Lil toucha jazz Introducing car and driver The holy moment empire Ethics 101 - gma in the street Otto is sad I don’t know what it means! Operatic mellismatic Car and driver fest will be a success! Car and driver fest was a bust again! Cipha’s comedy corner Ryder Be gone evil atonal spirits!
Unreleased mental breakdown compilation ep:
I like all music! I’m a stupid pos Electric micro bike Get off your phone! John frusc Nice song Lap steel for 2 My masseuse advice Bed head wash sq Punchie John Maus yoyo interview Diminished  kinda thing
Build the NYC scene, w Blu ish, Evan, 1 800, sweet joseph, Comics Club, Dawson, Sloppy Jane, Wheatus,
See Jack Fortin in NYC soon. Either my event or his. 
Things are still good. Syd will be a great filmmaker. WIll maybe will end up with a dancer or a filmmaker - Probably not a musician. WIll have many loves. 
Things are good right now - hope they stay that way. 
Feel like Ezra Keonig - hopefully someone reads this one day and agrees. Different time in history and the internet - hope this is less cringe than Ezra’s blog , probably not. Ezra, if you’re reading this, sorry. See ya at Bernie’s rally. 
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chokeholdwrite · 7 years ago
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red string
Genin days
“What do you think, Sasuke-kun? I can’t believe Kakashi-sensei gave us one free afternoon! Just when is festival time!”
Just his luck. Another delay on his journey.
With nothing better to do, Sasuke watches the stands of cheap costume jewelery with no interest whatsoever, Sakura’s talking and babbling beside him, making surprises faces at the merchants, or at a fish koy.
Annoying.
“Sakura-chan! Come over here!” Naruto waves his arm to the air, standing outside a food truck “They have some fine dango, dattebayo!”
Sakura’s eyes flashed with joy. Sasuke frowns when she walks away to buy some well deserve food.
“Your friend is taking away your girl, boy” Sasuke turns his head, looking at the fat lady in front of him. A clairvoyant sign adorns her post, so in other words, she is a woman with nothing better to do but mess with him.
He rolls his eyes. Go figure.
He doesn’t respond, instead he looks at the odds and ends she is selling (not waiting for Sakura at all). The woman looks smart enough, she will take the hint, his bow of silence.
“You think you are bothered because I’m talking to you” The woman continues, a playful smile on her face “but you are frowning because she walked away from you. You both are attached by the red string, oh! I really can see that, is that visible between you two”
The red string was one of the favorites myths of his mom. Something about being destined to other person it made her smile wherever she selected that bedtime story for him.
Sasuke detest it. It doesn’t make sense at all. But one little part of his heart likes it, because Mikoto like that one too much.
“I don’t know what are you talking about” Sasuke bellowed, and putting both hands on his pants, he stars to walk away.
“Oh, but you do” He stops, but doesn’t look back “You are the kind of person who overthink things quiet easily. You will lie to me thinking this means nothing to you, but you can’t fool yourself, Uchiha-boy. Even when you have those kind of eyes, you often miss the bigger picture in life”
He presses his hands on his pockets, looking again at Lady Totomi: fortune, love and remedy. That’s what she does for living. Lying.
“Your words mean nothing to me”
“Yeah, I can see that” Lady totomi says with ironic “what about if I tell you about your brother? There I would have your attention, kid?”
His eyes flushes red in an instant. Lady Totomi doesn’t look scandalize at all.
“Oh, I did say that word to you, didn’t I?. Don’t take this at the wrong way, boy, but I always preferred love over hate. You could do better with her, you know? She really cares about you - Her feelings are genuine, I never saw someone at her age love like that before” Lady Totomi focus her glance on the pink hair lady, who is smiling at the Dango seller “You are intended to have a story. The red string can tangle, contract and stretch, but it can never break. Your bond is indestructible, and have trespasses beyond time”
Bonds has always been a troubling topic for him. He isn’t fool about Sakura’s affections. He knows she…likes him. But he has always thought-known that kind of love will go away, attributing it to a juvenile-fleeting thing. In fact, love doesn’t have a part of his formula for an avenger. He should do better, like having zero bonds in total.
And definitely that doesn’t concern Sakura at all.
if one cleans the wound quickly, it is very possible that it will be erased over time.
“I don’t want it”
Lady totomi shakes her head disapprovingly “That is something you can’t choose, boy. Destiny works that way. Just go along with it.”
Sasuke frowns “That doesn’t make sense at all. We have nothing in common”
Is true. Sakura is his ultimate contradistinction. He has more things in common with Naruto, and even the blonde one is the total antonym of himself.
“That doesn’t have nothing to do with a partner” She responds indignantly “In fact, the people who are more opposite tend to last longer on relationships that people with common things. But ok, I will show you how wrong you are” She displays both hands in front of her fake jewelry: a lot of rings, bracelets of fortune, shining pendants. Sasuke goes up one eyebrow, and look at her skeptical.
“If you have to choose one jewelry of all the one I have in here. What would you choose? Pick carefully, no one is rushing you”
“I not gonna buy it”
“I’m not asking you to. Just choose one”
Sasuke looks down at the jewelry. He doesn’t like rings, nor bracelets. Ninja don’t carry that stuff, it difficult to summon jutsus. And carry jewelry with you (even when is cheap) can be a distraction: One bad step and it can shine or even worse, sound, and you could easily be spotted when you were (supposed to be) hiding.
Lower choices.
But anyways. Bracelets it is. The are no from metal, but thread, so it would be the most practical choice. There three different color: jade green, white and red. He goes for green, red is too strong, white is difficult to keep clean up. Green is good, can serves as camouflage too.
He points to it. The woman smiles at him.
“Just the color of her eyes, hm?”
He didn’t even think in Sakura for one moment. Why is the woman so dense about it?
“What are you doing, teme?” Naruto places himself beside Sasuke, chewing his dango with his mount open “You have been with fat lady far too long!”
“Naruto!” Sakura takes place alongside Sasuke, glaring at Naruto. She smells like sweet and springtime “How could you be so disrespectful! apologize to the woman!”
“Don’t worry young lady” Lady Totomi smiles, pointing to her jewelry “For being so kind to me, I will make you choose anything you want for free”
Sakura moves the dango away from his mouth “I that true? For free?!”
“Yeah. Choose wisely.”
Sakura scan the display before her. Naruto does too, even when he can’t choose anything because he has spent all his money on ramen. (best money spent, dattebayo!). She places one finger on her chin, looking closely to the bracelet area. Sasuke feels his blood run cold when she is picking between the three bracelets he was thinking before.
Don’t choose green. Don’t choose green. Don’t choose green.
“I will take the green one!”
Lady totomi smile at him, yelling I told you with her eyes. Sasuke turns his back and walks away, both Naruto and Sakura looking at him incredibly.
Sasuke recedes frowning: This proves nothing!
A shiver runs down his spine when he feels lady Totomi voice on his head.
Oh! But it does.
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hope-for-olicity · 8 years ago
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The Gold Dress II
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We found out a couple of days ago from an old interview with Emily Bett Rickards that Oliver actually bought Felicity the gold dress that Felicity wore in the Dodger episode. Yesterday I posted a fic from Felicity's point of view, Pretty Woman style, on how that came to be. The response was overwhelming thank you. But many asked for Oliver's point of view. So this is the same story from Oliver's perspective. I really hope enjoy! You can also read on AO3
“So we are all set for tonight right? I’ll get the jewelry piece and make sure it’s delivered to the auction and you and Digg will meet me there.” Oliver looked down at Felicity who sat in her chair in front of the computers.
“Right, except I’ll monitor things from here. You and Digg will be onsite.” Felicity turned back to her computers.
“No, I want you there.” Oliver stated firmly. “We need to track if the Dodger takes the bait and it would be better if you were on site.” He really didn’t understand why Felicity didn’t want to come. She had agreed that taking on the Dodger was the right thing to do.
“I can do my job just fine from here.” She looked back at him over her shoulder. “You will have comms, it will be fine.”
“Felicity what aren’t you telling me? Why don’t you want to go?” He hadn’t known Felicity long but she was clearly holding something back.
“Okay, the truth…”
“Please.” he pursed his lips. Surely he could fix this.
Felicity turned around in her chair and looked up at him. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
Oh thank goodness. He could fix this! “Well go buy a dress.” Oliver said as it was the most easy solution in the world.
“I can’t really buy a dress right now.” Felicity began to blush.
So it was a money thing. “Felicity, this is part of work for the Hood of course the cost of your dress is covered. Here,” he held out his credit card,”this should cover it and you should probably get more than one.  Just in case,” he winked.
“Oliver I don’t need you to buy me a dress.” Felicity said with a little hurt in her voice.
He really had not meant to offend her. “I know I don’t need to buy you anything. I want to. I want you had the charity auction tonight and as Digg pointed out earlier my family is very rich.”
He could almost see Felicity’s internal debate cross her face.
“Felicity please.” he said pleadingly. He couldn’t really pinpoint why but he wanted Felicity with them tonight.
He could see, Felicity starting to waver
“Okay.” She took the credit card.
“Great you go shopping and we will meet back her in two hours and firm up our plans. I’ll let Digg know.”
“Great,” Felicity grabbed her coat and boat and headed up the stairs.
^^^^^^
Oliver took the money he and Diggle had gotten earlier and went to pick up the jewelry piece the Queen family was donating to draw the Dodger out.
Then headed back to the bunker.
As he walked down the stairs he was surprised to see Felicity sitting at her computers. Shouldn’t it take longer to buy a dress or dresses?
Felicity was uncomfortable enough about using his credit card to buy dress, he didn’t want to push so he simply asked “All set?”
“Well if you were able to get the piece we talked about we should be good to go.” Felicity smiled up at him.
Oliver could tell something was wrong. She was avoiding eye contact and if he wasn’t mistaken it looked like she may have been crying. “Felicity did you get a dress?”
“About that,” she held out his credit card to him. Oliver took the card. “I decided I wasn’t comfortable with you buying me a dress for really no reason. Oliver, I can honestly do everything you need from here.”
“So you didn’t buy a dress?” He knew there was more to this.
“No.” Felicity turned back to her computers.
So she was going to volunteer the information he was going to have to pull it out of her. “Fel-ici-ty,” he said as he turned her around to face him in her chair. “What happened?”
“Noth…”
“Don’t tell me nothing.” He really wanted to know. She was clearly hurt.
Felicity took a deep breathe. “The ladies at Felicia’s said they didn’t have a cocktail dress for me.”
“For you?” Oliver was having a hard time keeping the anger out of his voice.
“Yes.” Felicity replied meekly.
She was clearly embarrassed. Why would they refuse to sell her a dress?
“You mean they would not sell you a dress?” Oliver gave up trying to hide his anger.
“It’s okay.” She was clearly trying to downplay the situation. “Like I said I don’t need a dress. I’m fine Oliver.”
Oliver began pacing. This was unacceptable! How could they treat her like that! She had money - he given her money. He looked at her. No, she was dressed nicely - how dare those women at Felicia’s judge her? He was just going to have to deal with this himself.
Oliver turned to Felicity “I just remembered I have to get one more thing. When Diggle gets here tell him to just meet me at the event”
“Sure.”
^^^^^
By the time Oliver had driven to Felicia’s he had calmed himself down. At least on the outside.  
He walked into the boutique and just as he thought someone rushed to help him. “Mr. Queen so nice to see you. Are you looking for something for your mother or maybe your sister? Or do you have a new girlfriend?”
The woman was so eager to please it almost killed him. Why couldn’t his be Felicity’s experience. “Actually, I’m here about a friend. Can I see your manager?”
“I am the manager Mr. Queen and I’m happy to help you. Perhaps I can help you find something for your friend. What size does she wear? Are you looking for formal or a cocktail dress?” She began walking toward wall of dresses.
Oliver followed. “She was looking for a cocktail dress.”
“Was?” The manager looked confused.
“Yes, she came by earlier to pick up a cocktail dress for tonight but was told there was no dress for her in this store.” As Oliver spoke his voice became more gravely.
“I’m so sorry Mr. Queen.”
“So am I. As you know my family has done business here for quite sometime and I am very disappointed. I will be letting my mother and sister know.”
The manager was clearly shocked. “Perhaps your friend could come back. We would be happy to try to find her a dress. It would be an honour.”
Oliver headed for the door, just before walking out he looked back “Just so you know she wasn’t only looking for a cocktail dress, she was suppose to buy many dresses.”
As Oliver let the door close behind him he felt a little better. Not all the way but a little.
He hauled out his cell phone and hit call on Thea’s name.
“Hey Ollie! What’s up? I’m at work at the CNRI so I can’t really chat.”
“This will only take a moment. Just wondering where I could tell someone to get a cocktail dress for tonight” Oliver began walking toward his car.
“I would suggest that new place, Night on the Town, they just opened and they have all the latest stuff. Does this mean there is a new girl in you life?”
“No. Just a friend. A good friend who had a bad experience at Felicia’s.” Oliver got in and put his seat belt on.
“Yeah Felicia’s has always been kind of snobby, mom shops there more than me. But I have to run, don’t want Laurel breathing down my neck.”
“No problem. Talk soon Speedy!”
“Bye”
Oliver hung up and quickly Googled the address for Night on the Town and Felicity thought he had no computer skills, he smiled.
^^^^^
As Oliver walked into Night on the Town he could see why Thea liked it. Much more colour and loud rock music played over the speakers.
He had to search for an employee and unlike Felicia’s they didn’t know but still treated him nicely. Good to know customer service wasn’t dead.
“Yes, I’m looking to get a cocktail dress for my friend?” He told the sales associate with a pink streak in her hair.
“Sure why don’t you tell me about your friend and I can provide you with some options”
“She’s really smart and a little geeky. She wears glasses and she is beautiful but I’m not sure she knows that. She has blonde hair. Oh and she’s very trustworthy.”
“That’s great now I have sense of her personality. Is she tall, short, big or small?”
“Oh, sorry,” Oliver blushed a little, “that was what you meant the first time, wasn’t it?”
“No, all the information is helpful. She is obviously a special lady.”
Oliver smiled “Yes, she is. She is also short and small. Sorry I don’t actually know her dress size, but I should have an idea once I see the dress.”
“Okay sounds good. Why don’t I go get a few options for you. Do you have a price range?”
She really had no idea who he was. “No, no price range.”
“Why don’t you take a seat over here” she led him to a teal sofa. “I’ll be right back.”
“Great, thanks.” All Oliver could think for a moment was - they make teal sofas?
Before he knew it, the sales associate was back with a rack full of dresses.
“So why don’t you take a look here?”
Oliver saw the gold dress peeking out in the middle of the dresses and reached for it. He held it up. “This is the one.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to look at the others?”
“No this is the one.”
“There is a matching purse to go with it. Would you be interested in that as well?”
“Yes, please pack up this and the purse for me. Thank you so much for you help.”
“No problem. Mr…”
“Mr. Queen, Oliver Queen.”
He saw the recognition on the sales associates face. But Oliver was very pleased that she treated all her customers with respect regardless of their bank accounts. The next time he would tell Felicity to come here.
^^^^^
When he got back to the bunker he was a little disappointed that Felicity wasn’t there.  
Oh well, it might be a blessing. She was clearly uncomfortable with him buying her a dress before. Maybe she would be less embarrassed if she were alone when she found the dress.
He put a note on the box saying “Meet us there.” With any luck he would sound see Felicity in the dress.
He went home to quickly get changed into his suit and meet Diggle.
^^^^^
Oliver’s phone buzzed and he quickly checked it to find out Felicity had arrived at the charity auction. He texted her that he and Diggle were in the ballroom and kept an eye for her.
When Felicity made her way through the crowd on the top of the stairs there was no way he could have missed her. She looked amazing. No, beyond amazing. He knew she was beautiful but this took it to a whole new level. He was speechless.
Diggle said something but he didn’t hear and they both began walking toward Felicity. Felicity smiled as they approached and began talking about the Dodger case. Sadly Oliver was quickly brought back down to earth and reality.
Time to take down the Dodger.
@almondblossomme @emmaamelia95 @mel-loves-all @coal000 @stygian-omada-fan @vaelisamaza @tdgal1 @laurabelle2930 @lalawo1 @oliverfel4 @felicity-said–yes @geneshaven @nalla-madness @captainolicitysbedroom @pleasantfanandstudent  @spaztronautwriter @somewhatinvisible @scu11y22 @supersillyanddorky06 @dmichellewrites @memcjo @charlinert @marytagus @miriam1779 @mammashof @diggo26
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the9thearl · 8 years ago
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Playing Dolls
Chapter One
 From the moment I came to live with the Driggers my life hasn’t been the same.  Oh, that’s a good thing; I’m not complaining.  I think the Driggers would agree.  I had bounced around for as long as I could remember which is a very hard way to live even when times are good.  I can’t remember every place I’ve lived, especially in the early years, but I can remember enough – more than I’d like in some cases.  
 Some times were good, like my years with the Bandermans.  The Bandermans called me Giggi and treated me very well.  They played with me, kept me clean and never left me outside alone.  I felt safe there.  There were the other times, though - ugly times - like my years with the Buckelowns.  I hated those years.  The Buckelowns called me Soggy Toe because I was always landing in the dog’s water dish.  I landed there because they threw me there.  They thought it was hilarious to watch me get all wet.  Then they would just walk off and leave me dripping wet sitting on the kitchen floor or the patio.  It was awful.  The day I left there was the happiest of my life – until I came to live with the Driggers that is.  
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Thank goodness for that school festival!  If Mrs. Buckelowns hadn’t been having a tantrum and made me go to that festival, I wouldn’t have met Newton.  And if I hadn’t met Newton, I wouldn’t be living with the Driggers.  Newton is the Driggers’ older son, you see.  He is in the fourth grade at Homo Probosci Elementary School, and it was at the school’s Harvest Festival that we found each other.
I met all the Driggers eventually that night.  Waurika Driggers, Newton’s mom, was working at the popcorn stand with several other fourth graders’ parents.  Newton’s dad Orville was walking around the festival with Newton’s little brother Jasper, helping him reach into the grab bag sponsored by the second grade and going through the haunted house presented by the fifth graders.   Jasper came out of the haunted house crying, and Mrs. Driggers had to leave the popcorn stand to calm him down.  She told Mr. Driggers that it wasn’t very smart to take a five-year-old into a haunted house even if it was staged by a bunch of fifth graders.  I had to agree with her.  When Newton introduced me to Jasper he said that a nine-year-old was too old for me, and that I’d be a much better friend for Jasper.  I had to agree with him, too.  I’ve never had very good luck with older kids.  The younger ones treat me a whole lot nicer.
 Jasper really liked me.  I moved into his room, and we became best friends.  He named me Jeebo.  I went everywhere with him, even into the bathtub once, which turned out not to be a very good idea.  It took me days and days to dry all the way through.  When he tried to take me into the tub again, I said to myself, “I can’t go back in the bathtub.  I’ll drown.”  
Jasper looked at me when I said that, and said, “You can talk!”  
I looked back at him and said, “You can hear me!”
He started to laugh and said, “This is fun.  Say something else.”
“Okay,” I said, “Please don’t take me in the bathtub again.  I’m not a bathtub toy.  It took me four days to get dry last time.”
In case I haven’t been clear, I am a doll.  I don’t know how long I’ve been around, but I know I’m pretty old.  My name – my current name – is Jeebo, but I’ve had lots of names.  I wasn’t Soggy Toe for very long, thank goodness, but I was Giggi for a long time, and before that I had been Gwillem, Bofo, and Cap’n Bob, among others.  My first memories are from around 1957 as Cap’n Bob.  I don’t know where I came from, but I’ve been sold or given away in more church bazaars, toy drives and garage sales than you can imagine.  I’m pretty big for a doll, about twenty inches tall.  I have black velveteen hair and a black mustache.  I’m currently wearing a pink pinstriped suit with a red tie, but that wasn’t my original outfit.  The first suit I remember was blue, and somewhere along the way I had a plaid one.  But the tie has always been red.
For a while I had candle wax in my hair.  That came from the Buckelowns when they left me sitting on the hearth once with a candle on the mantel that dripped wax on my head.  That’s how I looked when Newton won me as a prize for throwing a baseball through the right hole in the third graders’ arcade at the Harvest Festival.  One of the ladies who was collecting things for the festival tried to pick the wax off of me before they gave me away.  She got a lot of it off, but it really hurt when she pulled my hair, so I was glad when she gave up.  It was better to have wax in my hair that to have somebody pull my hair out.  But it was Mrs. Driggers who had the idea one day to wrap me in an old towel and let me go for a spin in the dryer.  That melted all the wax and fluffed up my clothes at the same time.  It’s little things like that that have made living with the Driggers nice from the beginning.  I wanted to thank her, but Jasper was the only one who’d heard me talk, so I told him to thank her.  I hope he did.
Until I met Jasper I had always thought I was just like any other toy.  I could talk to all the other toys, but not to humans.  Thanks to the movie Toy Story, humans knew our secret, but we still couldn’t talk to them.  But all of a sudden, now Jasper could hear me talk.  And it wasn’t only talk; Jasper could see me move, too.  I would climb up on the bed when he went to bed at night and down in the morning when he got up.  The strangest part was that it was only me.  None of his other toys could talk to him.  So we were pretty sure it was me, and not Jasper, that was unusual.  But I’d never been unusual until I came to live with the Driggers.
Chapter Two
There wasn’t anything obviously unusual about the rest of the Driggers either. Jasper was in kindergarten and Newton in fourth grade, and they both went to Homo Probosci Elementary School every day.  Waurika worked part-time as a receptionist in a dentist’s office to bring in extra money.  She got off work at 2:00, though, so she could always be at home with the boys after school.  Orville owned a small jewelry store where he sold some earrings, necklaces and cuff links, but mostly watches.  His specialty was repairing watches, and he was known as the best in the town of Hiram.  He had drawers full of special tools and little tiny watch parts all neatly sorted and labeled.  He had racks of watchbands in leather, silver, and gold.  There were magnifying glasses in several sizes and a funny shaped glass thing that he called a loupe.  He used that most of all.  He would put it up to his eye and then squint to hold it in place so he could use both hands to work on the watches.  
Orville bought the jewelry store in 1992 from an old, well-known jeweler who wanted to retire.  The shop wasn’t downtown with most of the department stores and other retail shops.  It was out on the west side of Hiram where it shared the ground floor of a building with a drug store.  The building across the street had at one time been full of doctors’ offices, and beyond it had been a hospital.  It had been a good location to sell jewelry to doctors and hospital visitors.  But now the doctors’ office building was the police station, and the hospital had been torn down several years ago when a new one was built on the other side of town.  And the only thing across the street the other direction was an old motor hotel.  Orville didn’t sell much jewelry, but his reputation as the best watch repairman in town kept him in business.  He had worked for one of the downtown jewelry stores before buying his own shop, and satisfied customers had followed him.
The store had been a jewelry store for seventy-six years.  When the hospital was built in 1914, it was on the edge of town near the railroad station.  It was not close to the restaurants and shops in the downtown area.  Some local merchants saw this as an opportunity, and over the next few years expanded or relocated their businesses to the hospital area.  One of these was a watchmaker named Moody Marlin.  Moody opened his jewelry shop in 1916 and quickly became a favorite of doctors and doctors’ wives.    People brought him broken necklaces, rings with one stone missing, and even brooches that had been stepped on by horses.  He had a gift for understanding exactly what his customers wanted, and if he didn’t have it, he could usually make it.  
In 1943, Moody contracted polio.  Though he was one of the lucky ones who was not confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life, the disease made it hard for him to stand for long periods.  So he hired a local young man to take care of the jewelry sales while he spent his time making and repairing jewelry in the back of the store.  Abrevious Calhoun inherited the store when Moody Marlin died in 1970.  He left everything exactly as Moody had kept it, including the store’s name, Moody Jewelry.  But in 1992, 69-year-old Abrevious Calhoun sold his beloved jewelry store and all its memories to Orville Driggers.  
After he moved in, Orville stumbled across a crude safe hidden away in a corner of the back room.  Inside he found a cameo brooch, a silver charm bracelet, a gold pocket watch, and one onyx cuff link. 
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They had obviously been in the safe for many years, probably brought in for repairs and forgotten.  They had been there so long that Orville imagined even Abrevious Calhoun had forgotten about them.  Orville cleaned the pieces carefully and took them home.  They were beautiful old pieces, well crafted and well cared for.  He mounted them in a glass case and hung them in the front hall as a reminder to himself:  You are a craftsman.  Always do work you will be proud of.
Chapter Three
 It can get pretty boring waiting for Jasper to get home from school every day.  Now that the other toys know that I can talk to Jasper, they treat me a little differently.  They’re still friendly, but I know they talk behind my back.  So I spend a lot of time by myself.  To break up the boredom, I’ve started making Jasper’s bed for him, and I also pick up the bathroom after he leaves for school.  He’s only five, and he’s pretty bad about forgetting to hang up his towel, and he leaves the cap off the toothpaste sometimes.  So I make sure they get done, then I remind him about it when he gets home.  But even that doesn’t take up enough time, so I’ve been looking for other things to do.  I’m afraid to leave Jasper’s room, though, because if Mrs. Driggers saw me out in the hall or somewhere else, Jasper might get in trouble for leaving me there, and I’d have to stay there the rest of the day.  It would be pretty hard for Jasper to explain how I was in the hall one minute and back in his room the next while he was at school.  
But, unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened.  Boredom got the best of me the other day, and I went into Newton’s room to see if there was something I could do in there.  I had just climbed up on Newton’s bed to see if it needed making when I heard Mrs. Driggers come home from work.  Before I could get down, she was coming down the hall.  When she passed by the door she looked in like mothers always do, and she saw me.  
“Jeebo, what are you doing in here?” she asked.   “Jasper will be looking for you.”
She picked me up and was heading for Jasper’s room when the phone rang.  So I wound up in a kitchen chair while she talked.  At least it was a change of scenery, and it wouldn’t be long until Jasper got home.  She let me stay in the chair while she got eggs, butter and milk out of the refrigerator.  Then she got flour and salt out of the pantry.  Just as she began mixing everything up, Jasper and Newton came through the front door and into the kitchen.
“Hi, Mom,” Newton said, “Cookies?”
“Hi, Mom,” echoed Jasper, and then he saw me.  “Why is Jeebo in here?”  
“Oh, I found him on Newton’s bed when I came home,” she answered, “Why was he in there?”
“I don’t know,” Jasper replied, “maybe he likes it in there.”  
“I see,” said Waurika.
“Hey, you’re not supposed to go in my room if I’m not there,” Newton yelled.
“I didn’t go in your room,” Jasper answered.
“Right.  I guess Jeebo walked in there by himself, huh, you little liar?” Newton said.  
“That’s enough, both of you,” Waurika interrupted, “Keep that up, and no cookies for you.”
“But, Mom, he’s lying,” Newton whined, “Shouldn’t he get in trouble?”
“Just tell them it was an accident,” I said to Jasper, “and I’ll be more careful.”
Both Waurika and Newton stopped and looked first at Jasper, then at me.
“Who just said that?” Waurika asked.
“It was the doll, Mom,” Newton said as his eyes got wider, “I saw it!”
“You mean you could hear him, too?” Jasper asked, “He talks to me all the time, but I didn’t know anybody else could hear him.”
“You’re teasing me, right?” Waurika asked looking from one son to the other, “This is a trick on Mom, isn’t it?”
“I swear, Mom, I saw the freaky little doll talk.  How do you do that?” he asked Jasper.
“I didn’t do anything!” Jasper said, “Jeebo did!  Say something else Jeebo, so they’ll believe me.”
I thought for a moment, and then said, “I didn’t mean to scare you, Mrs. Driggers.  I’m very sorry.”
Waurika looked like she might faint, and she sat down in the chair next to me and looked at me for several minutes.
“How?  Why?” she stammered, “This can’t be.  How can you talk?”
“I’m not sure, ma’am,” I started, “No one has ever been able to hear me talk before, not in any of the homes where I’ve lived.  But I’ve never been as happy in any home as I have here either.”
Waurika just looked at me, unsure what to say or do.
“Isn’t it neat, Mom?” Jasper squealed.
Chapter Four
Abrevious Calhoun has had a good life, though not always an easy one.  He grew up in Hiram, the only child of a widow.  His mother worked as a telephone operator, and they had a simple, but comfortable, life.  Abrevious was an easy-going, fun-loving boy who made friends easily and was well-liked.  After high school he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, so he enlisted in the Army on his nineteenth birthday, and served until the end of World War II.  When he returned to Hiram following the war, though, he found that it was difficult to find a job. Having spent years in the Army, he was not trained for any trade besides that of a soldier.  Many of the other young men returning from the war had prepared for a profession like accounting or building or auto repair before entering the service, and the available jobs were offered to them.  Abrevious was forced to move back in with his mother while he continued to look for work.  
One day in September, Abrevious went to the doctor for his annual checkup.  He noticed Moody Marlin sitting in the waiting room.  “Hello, Mr. Marlin,” he said, sitting down next to Moody. “How’ve you been doing?”
“Abrevious Calhoun!” Moody said, extending his hand, “I heard you were home.  Good to see you.  What are you doing to keep busy these days?”
“Looking for a job, sir,” Abrevious told him.  “Nobody seems to have a spot for me.  I don’t have the right training to do anything outside the Army.”
Moody was quiet for a moment, then he said, “Can you show up for work on time?”
“Yes, sir.  Has somebody said I can’t?” Abrevious asked.
“Can you smile and be polite and say ‘How may I help you?’” Moody went on.
“Well, sure, sir, but I don’t understand,” Abrevious said, growing more concerned, “Is somebody bad-mouthing me around town?”
Moody chuckled and patted Abrevious on the shoulder.  “I don’t believe anyone has ever said an unkind thing about you, Abrevious Calhoun,” he said, “That’s why I’d like you to come work for me.  You would be a perfect addition to my business.”
“Work for you, sir?” Abrevious said. “I’d love to, but I don’t know anything about making jewelry.”
Moody laughed again.  “Son,” he said, “Leave the jewelry making to me.  You’d be out front selling jewelry.  It’s gotten so painful for me to have to stand behind the counters.  I need someone to take over, and people like you, Abrevious. Customers would be comfortable with you.  You could do that, couldn’t you?”
“I suppose I could, sir.  Anyway, I’d be happy to give it a try,” Abrevious said.  “Thank you, sir.”
That day a lifelong partnership was formed between two of Hiram’s favorite citizens.  Abrevious began learning the jewelry business and soon found out that he would learn a lot more than he expected.  He quickly discovered which customers were regulars, which ones expected special treatment, and which few would talk only to Moody.  When a customer brought in jewelry that needed repair, they were naturally referred to Moody, but there were two women – a banker’s wife, and an insurance broker’s wife – who, regardless of how charming he tried to be, would not let Abrevious wait on them.  This didn’t bother Abrevious too much.  He stayed busy enough with the rest of Moody’s customers.  
And he soon discovered that there was often very interesting information in those conversations between Moody and some of his customers.  A broken piece of jewelry often had a story to go with it.  Abrevious figured out early that a broken necklace was usually an accident, and a broken watch often indicated a fist fight, but a broken clock almost always meant a family argument - an ugly one – whereas a missing earring was a big secret and was usually accompanied by a frantic request for a replacement.  Abrevious realized that Moody probably knew more secrets about people in Hiram than anybody, so he listened while he worked.  He had very friendly conversations with the customers that he was waiting on, but he also paid attention to conversations between Moody and his customers.  
One of Abrevious’s favorite customers was Moonyene Willie.  The Willie family was one of Hiram’s favorite topics of gossip.  For one thing they were very wealthy, but the original source of the wealth was somewhat of a mystery.  Moonyene’s great-grandfather, Gorman Breckenridge, had just shown up in Hiram after the Civil War with his family and a small fortune.  They were a pleasant enough family, but not at all forthcoming about their past.  Speculation among the townspeople about Gorman Breckenridge’s fortune ranged from railroads and European royalty to carpetbagging and bank robbing.  One rumor suggested that he was a member of Jesse James’s gang, and that he’d stolen the money from the gang and was now hiding, not only from the law, but from the James gang as well.  Most people, though, agreed that Gorman Breckenridge did not behave like a criminal in hiding, even if he wasn’t telling where his money had come from.
For instance, in 1871 he founded Hiram’s newspaper, The Dill Sitter, borrowing the name from his young son’s attempt to say Bulletin Crier, the paper’s original name.    The newspaper thrived, and by the time Luckie Breckenridge inherited his father’s fortune, the newspaper had doubled it.  By this time the mystery surrounding the Breckenridge fortune had become legend, and like his father, Luckie had no desire to discuss his family’s past.  Besides, the mystery helped sell newspapers.  Luckie and his family tried to keep a low profile, running the newspaper, and attending church and school, but when anonymous funding suddenly appeared for a community center and a city park, the opinion was unanimous; the money had come from Luckie Breckenridge.
Luckie’s daughter Zita increased the family fortune by marrying Ogden Willie, of Pennsylvania’s Odiomzwak Railroad family.  The Odiomzwak, or Odie, as it was known, had expanded its territory into Hiram in 1912, and Ogden Willie moved to Hiram to oversee the local operation.  
Ogden Willie was a more flamboyant sort than his Breckenridge in-laws and insisted that he and Zita build the grandest house in town.  He was a good man, though, and displayed the same charitable attitude toward his community that was characteristic of the Breckenridges; it was just in a more demonstrative fashion.  In fact, when the hospital opened in 1914, one wing was dedicated as the Willie Ward in recognition of the generosity of Ogden and Zita Willie.   
 Chapter Five
Moonyene Willie was born in the Willie Ward in 1918; two years after Moody Marlin opened his jewelry store down the street.  Moody engraved the silver cup and spoon that her grandparents gave her; along with the watch they gave her father and the gold locket they gave her mother.  The Breckenridges had been among Moody’s first customers, and the Willies had remained loyal customers of Abrevious as well, but Moonyene was the end of the line.  By the time Orville bought the store from Abrevious, Moonyene Willie was an old woman who seldom left her home for any reason, but certainly not to buy jewelry anymore.  
By all accounts Moonyene was an eccentric old woman, but local lore suggested that she had also been an eccentric young woman and child.   She was an only child; the only heir to Ogden & Zita Willie’s combined fortunes.   
Despite their wealth the Willies did not employee a nanny or governess for Moonyene.  Zita was adamant that she would raise her daughter herself, her way, and Moonyene was encouraged to think and to speak up for herself.   She had her own library in their home that housed a large collection of classics in both children’s and adult’s literature.  She read them all.  She loved to read, and what she didn’t have in her library, she borrowed from the public library.  She also had an extensive collection of dolls.  One of her ambitions was to have a doll from every country in the world.
Zita and Moonyene traveled a great deal, visiting museums, attending plays, seeing famous places and collecting dolls all over the world.  Ogden’s schedule did not allow him time to travel much, but that didn’t stop “the girls”.  They visited the pyramids in Egypt, the Great Wall of China, Stonehenge in England, the Mayan steps in Mexico and rode the Orient Express from Istanbul to Paris.  They toured the United States walking the Freedom Trail in Boston, eating beignets in New Orleans, riding mules into the Grand Canyon and sailing under the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco.  
All of this provided a wonderful education for Moonyene, but it also isolated her from other children in town.  Not many children were fortunate enough to have done any of these things, and most of them were intimidated by Moonyene’s life.  To them she was different, even mysterious somehow.  Many of them came from rural families whose lifestyle was farming.  Still others’ fathers worked for either the Odie or The Dill Sitter.  It was difficult for them to see Moonyene as simply a classmate and not as the boss’s daughter.  Consequently Moonyene wasn’t invited to many birthday parties or holiday parties, and didn’t have many friends.  Zita became aware of this, and she began hosting tea parties and, as Moonyene got older, dances for her to invite schoolmates or acquaintances from church.  A few people did come, usually the children of associates of Ogden and Zita, but Moonyene had always been wary of these people.  In her opinion they were social climbers, only attending her parties so they could be seen at the Willie’s home or in their company.
Her closest friends when she was young had been her books, her dolls and Momo, the granddaughter of the Willie’s housemaid.  Momo often came to the Willie’s with her grandmother in the summer.  She didn’t seem aware of any differences between Moonyene and herself.  The house didn’t appear to make an impression on her, nor did Moonyene’s clothes or the fact that they attended different schools.  She was, however, impressed with Moonyene’s dolls.  So they played dolls.  The dolls had tea parties, picnics and costume parties, and after her first visit, Momo always wanted to play with the same doll.  Moonyene would play with a different doll almost every time, but Momo never wavered.       
Moonyene only saw Momo during the summer when school was out and occasionally at Christmas, and was not permitted to invite her to the parties her mother hosted for her, or over to play unless her grandmother was coming that day anyway.  The year Moonyene was nine; Momo’s grandmother got sick and had to stop working for the Willies.   Moonyene, angry with her mother, knew this meant she would probably never see Momo again.  
For Christmas that year, Moonyene told her mother that she wanted to take a present to Momo.  She picked out the doll that she knew was Momo’s favorite out of her whole collection.  It was a doll her own grandfather had given her a few years ago, and she had named it Lucky W. after him, too young to know how to spell his name, but old enough to know that he would be proud of her for making a sacrifice for her friend.    And it was Momo’s favorite, so even though Moonyene would miss it, that’s the one she wanted to give to Momo.  Moonyene took the doll in her arms and hugged it tightly, feeling love for the doll, her grandfather and her good friend, all at the same time.  Zita drove Moonyene over on Christmas Eve to take her present to Momo.  
Momo didn’t know what to say.  She knew this was the doll Moonyene’s grandfather had given her, and the fact that Moonyene wanted to give it to her was overwhelming.  Momo accepted the doll and told Moonyene that his name would always be Lucky W.    
This kind of giving came naturally to Moonyene Willie even if she wasn’t aware of it at first.  She was, after all, a Breckenridge and a Willie, and she continued her family’s philanthropy in Hiram.  She donated some of the Breckenridge land for an animal hospital and “rest home”.  She was also responsible for new playground equipment at all the elementary schools, a new parking lot for the library, and every Christmas she arranged for hundreds of dolls to be collected and distributed to local children who might have no Christmas otherwise.                   
Moonyene never married, though she had a number of opportunities.   Her independence, both financially and intellectually, made the idea of a traditional marriage seem too confining to her.  She had observed as her parents’ marriage had developed into a happy routine with her mother pursuing her interests and her father taking care of his business.  At the dinner table, the three of them shared the day’s events with each other.   But most marriages, she knew, didn’t work that way.   And she had never learned to trust people’s motive, always afraid that potential husbands were only interested in her fortune.  
This meant, of course, that Moonyene had no heirs of her own other than her dogs and cats, and this caused a lot of speculation around Hiram about her fortune and what would happen to it.  There were many theories, but no one could find anybody who actually knew.  The Breckenridge-Willie fortune had always been one of Hiram’s greatest mysteries, and it appeared that it might remain that way forever.
Chapter Six
“Jeebo, do you want some cereal?” Waurika asked.  
Eating is new to me.  Jasper has been teaching me to use a fork and spoon, and it’s trickier than it looks, especially when you don’t have any fingers.  But eating is fun.  I get to sit at the table with the Driggers now, and participate in family discussions.  
“Yes, please,” I tell her. 
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After we finish breakfast and everybody leaves for work and school, I will clear the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher.  Then I’ll make the beds and probably start some laundry.  Waurika has taught me how separating light colors from dark will keep clothes from bleeding on each other.  Once in a while, if I’m feeling dusty, I’ll climb in the dryer and take a spin.  It’s really good for getting the dust out of my hair just like it did the candle wax.  
Don’t let Orville find out, but yesterday when I was dusting, I knocked his framed pieces of jewelry off the wall.  The glass didn’t break, thank goodness, and everything is still mounted like it was, so I just hung it back up.  But the watch caught my eye.  Something about it was familiar, but I’m not sure what.  I didn’t recognize any of the other pieces, but I feel like I’ve seen that watch before.  It’s very pretty.  The case is etched gold, and the face has black Roman numerals and hour and minute hands, with a gold second hand.  It’s obviously not running because it says 4:13 all the time.  The gold chain and fob stretched out beside it look expensive.  I can’t believe somebody forgot about it.  I know how it feels.  Lucky for us both we wound up with the Driggers.  
“Come on, Jasper, we need to get going,” Waurika said.
“He says he can’t find Jeebo, Mom,” Newton told her, “I think he’s back in his room.  Want me to go see?”  
“Thank you, honey, but I’ll go.  I suspect he just doesn’t want to go to the dentist,” she answered.
Newton sat down at the kitchen table and stared at the cookie jar.  He knew he couldn’t eat a cookie right now.  He’d have to go brush his teeth again.  The back door opened and Jeebo backed in pulling a plastic jug behind him with a great deal of effort.  
“What’s that, Jeebo?” Newton asked.  
“I made sun tea today,” Jeebo said excitedly, “But I didn’t know it would be so heavy when it was full.”  
“Here, let me get it,” Newton said and picked up the jug.  “It is heavy.  How did you get it out there?”
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Jeebo said, “I took it out there empty and filled it up with the hose.  Then I realized I wouldn’t be able to bring it back in the same way.  It’s almost as big as I am.”
“Here’s Jeebo, honey,” said Waurika coming back into the kitchen, “Now can we get going?”
“He was in the back yard making sun tea,” Newton told them.
“Can Jeebo go with us, Mom?” Jasper asked.
“Anything that will get you in the car is fine with me,” she said, “Now go!”
After a full day of making sun tea and doing the laundry, I was ready for an adventure.  I’d never been to the dentist before.  In fact, I didn’t usually get to go anywhere.  I’m too big for Jasper to carry around, so I stay at home.  
As we drove, Jasper pointed things out around town just like I was a visitor.  I wanted to ask him about a particular building I saw, but when I tried, I discovered that he couldn’t hear me any more.  I panicked and tried to get his attention, but he couldn’t see me moving any more either.  When we got to the dentist’s office, he sat me in a chair beside him in the waiting room and said, “You’ll have to stay here with Newton when it’s my turn, Jeebo.”
I tried to answer him, but I guess he thought I was “playing doll” because we were around other people.  He didn’t seem worried that I didn’t answer.  That is one of the rules, whenever company comes over, I am not supposed to say or do anything in front of them. We call it “playing doll”.  We’re not sure if they would be able to hear or see me, but the Driggers don’t want to take a chance.
When Jasper went in to see the dentist, and Newton was sitting in the waiting room, I tried to say something to him, but he couldn’t hear me either.  I didn’t know what was happening, and I couldn’t tell anybody.  I yelled, I got up and ran around the waiting room, but nobody noticed any of it.  I knocked some magazines on the floor.  People saw that, but they thought the magazines just slid off the table.  A woman sitting on the other side of the table picked them up and restacked them.  It was no use.  I was just a doll.  I sat in the chair beside Newton and wondered if I’d ever get to taste my sun tea.  Once we were back in the car I listened to Jasper and Newton compare dentist visits.  Finally Jasper said something to me.  
“Aren’t you glad you don’t have to do that, Jeebo?”
I answered him, “Yes it sounds horrible, but I’ll bet you can’t hear me.”  
I was right, he couldn’t hear me, but Jasper is five, and he didn’t understand what was going on.  He just kept repeating, “Aren’t you, Jeebo?  Huh?  Jeebo, aren’t you glad?”
Finally Waurika said, “That’s enough, Jasper.”  
“But he won’t answer me, Mom,” Jasper whined.  “Are you still playing doll, Jeebo?  You can stop now, it’s just us.”
I was right in the middle of saying, “You don’t get it, Jasper, I’m not playing doll.  You can’t hear me anymore,” when we turned into the driveway at home.  Jasper looked a little confused when he said, “Stop teasing me.”
He got out of the car, and I sat there waiting for him to get me out.  When I didn’t get out he said, “It’s not funny anymore, Jeebo, get out of the car.”
I didn’t want to be left in the car all night, so I climbed out.  I still didn’t expect Jasper to be able to see me, but I didn’t know what else to do.
“That’s better,” Jasper said, closing the car door.
“You can see me again?  Can you hear me, too?” I asked him, feeling as if I was in the Twilight Zone.
“I told you it’s not funny anymore, Jeebo.  Everybody’s always teasing me,” he said.
“I’m not teasing you, Jasper,” I told him.  “The whole time we were gone, I was talking to you and running around the dentist’s office, but nobody could see or hear me.  Not you, not Newton, nobody.  But as soon as we were back home, you could see and hear me again.”
He wasn’t sure whether or not to believe me, I could tell from his expression.  
“So you mean, you can only be alive when we’re at home?” he sort of asked, sort of said.  “What does that mean?”
“I wish I knew,” I told him.
Chapter Seven
 Preparations were underway for a big celebration in Hiram.  The town’s 150th Anniversary Jubilee was approaching, and the mayor’s office, the city council and the Chamber of Commerce were busy putting together a retrospective of the town’s history.  They had called on many of the businesses in town to contribute to the exhibits that would be on display.  There was to be one on the town’s founder, Hickey Hiram, others on the ways of life from various decades.  There would also be exhibits from specific institutions like the schools, the hospital, the railroad, the newspaper, the library and even the cemetery.
Orville was very proud that he had been asked to be part of the Jubilee as the one of the oldest continuous businesses in town.  Jasper’s class had been working for several weeks on a mural to be displayed in the library’s exhibit.  All the kids in Newton’s class were characters in a play about life during the industrial boom of the 1910’s.   Newton was playing a mill worker.  He liked the fact that he got to be dirty in his role and told his mother that he couldn’t take baths because it would wash off his costume.
Conversations at the dinner table were all about the Jubilee.  Newton, in costume, told stories about life in Hiram during the 1910’s.
“The biggest thing that happened back then was the Odie coming to town,” he told them.  “That was a real big deal.  And Hiram got its first hospital then, too.”  
He stopped and ate some of his lasagna.  “Hiram wasn’t much of a town before then, was it?” he said to no one in particular.
“What’s the Odie?” Jasper asked.
Newton rolled his eyes at his brother.  “The railroad,” he said.  “The Odiomzwak Railroad began service to Hiram in 1912.  People call it the Odie.”
“Did you know that it was during the 1910’s that my jewelry store first opened?” Orville asked Newton.  “A man named Moody Marlin opened it in 1916.  It got its name from Moody.“  
“I thought you bought it from Abrevious Calhoun, Dad,” Newton said.
“I did,” Orville told him.  “Abrevious used to work for Moody Marlin, and when Mr. Marlin died, he left the store to Abrevious.”
“You’ve seen the picture hanging behind the cash register of a man standing in front of the store, haven’t you?” he continued,  “That was Moody Marlin the day he opened his store.  There are several more pictures in the back room of both Moody and Abrevious and some of their customers over the years.  I’m going to enlarge the pictures and use them in the exhibit for the celebration.  That reminds me, I need to get in touch with Abrevious.  He’s the only one who can identify some of the people in the pictures.”
“Honey, you should use those old pieces you found when you opened the store,” Waurika said, “You know, the ones hanging in the front hall.”
“That’s a great idea,” Orville said.  “I don’t know exactly how old those pieces are, but from their design, I’d say Moody might have sold them originally.  Abrevious might remember whom they belonged to.  Moody did business with some of the most important people in Hiram’s history; so did Abrevious.”
I almost choked on my lasagna when I heard that.  Now Orville was sure to notice that the framed pieces had been dropped, and I’d be in big trouble.  I spent the rest of the night trying to figure out what I could do to keep him from finding out I’d knocked them off the wall, but I couldn’t come up with anything.  
That night I had a terrible dream.  In the dream, I dropped the jewelry again, but this time the pieces all came to life and started yelling at me.  Each one was screaming how old it was and where it had come from, and telling me how irreplaceable it was.  Then they tried to kill me, I think.  The charm bracelet poked its charms at my eyes, and the cuff link pinched my hands and arms.  At the same time the watch wrapped itself around my neck and tried to strangle me while the brooch stabbed the bottom of my feet with its pin.  When they were through torturing me, they all got back inside the frame except in the wrong places, and hung themselves back on the wall, laughing and waiting for Orville to find them that way.  
The next morning I ran into the front hall to make sure my dream had not come true and that the pieces were all in the right places.  I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw them hanging just the way they’d always been.  But I decided, just the same, to be extra helpful around the house in the hope that the Driggers wouldn’t give me away.  I shined Orville’s shoes, scrubbed the bathtubs, and cleaned out the cat’s litter box.  
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Scrubbing the tubs is a tricky endeavor for somebody my size.  I have to climb over the side and get in the tub.  Once I’m there, there’s no choice but to get wet as I scrub, so I come out soggy and smelling like Scrubbing Bubbles.  When I finished both tubs I was soaking wet and exhausted.  I got in the dryer to dry off, and I tumbled around in there until I’d forgotten all about the jewelry.
Chapter Eight
Orville didn’t realize how difficult it would be to get in touch with Abrevious Calhoun.  He tried calling Abrevious’s house, but there was no answer.  At lunch he went downtown to see if he could find Abrevious playing checkers with some of the other retired men at the barbershop.  The men told him they hadn’t seen Abrevious today, but that sometimes he played bingo at the American Legion Hall, and he volunteered at the Boys’ Club sometimes, too.  Or he might be over at the café drinking coffee.  The truth was that since Abrevious had retired, he’d been busier than ever.  So Orville went over to the café and ate lunch, but Abrevious wasn’t there either.  Orville told the waitress at the café and the boys at the barbershop to tell Abrevious he would like to talk to him if they saw him, and then headed back to the store.
Business was slow that afternoon, so Orville spent the time studying the photographs he was going to show to Abrevious.  They were all old, nothing more recent looking than the early 1950’s, so Orville didn’t recognize any of the people.  Still, the photos fascinated him.  He arranged them in chronological order as best he could.  Some of them had dates on the back, others he had to guess from the clothing and automobile styles.  He noticed how robust Moody had been before his bout of polio, and how he aged over the years.  There were a few pictures of Abrevious.  He was barely out of his teens when he began working for Moody, and Orville saw him grow up in the progression of photos.  The store itself had also undergone some changes through the years, although really it looked very much the same.  Orville was still using most of Abrevious’s old display cases, but he no longer sold grandfather clocks, and he had furnished their old corner with a small sitting area for his customers.  
For the next few days, Orville kept the photos out in the front part of the store.  Whenever a customer came in, especially someone who had lived in Hiram for a long time, he would show him or her the pictures and ask if they could identify anyone.  A couple of people thought they recognized people in the photos, but couldn’t say for sure.  One woman thought she recognized her childhood pediatrician’s wife, Mrs. Milo Shimley. Another customer tentatively identified a distinguished looking gentleman as Walker Yoakam who had been Director of the Water Department for many years.
After more than a week had passed, while Orville was with a customer who needed a watchband, Abrevious Calhoun shuffled through the front door and waved at Orville.
“Hello, Abrevious,” Orville said cheerfully, “I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“That’s what I’m hearing all over town, Orville, so I decided to pay you a visit,” Abrevious said.
The customer paid for his watchband, smiled at Abrevious, and left the store.
“How can I help you, Orville?” Abrevious asked.
Orville pointed at the photographs and said, “I’ve been asked to participate in the Anniversary Jubilee, Abrevious, as one of the oldest continuous businesses in Hiram,” he began.  “I thought I’d use these old photographs as part of the exhibit, and I’d like to identify the people in the photos.”
“Where did you get these?” Abrevious wanted to know.
“They were in a drawer in the back room,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder. “If anybody would know who these people are, it’s you, Abrevious.”
Abrevious picked up one of the photos and studied it for a long time.
“One of my customers thinks that woman is a Mrs. Shimley, the wife of a prominent pediatrician back in the 1950’s,” Orville volunteered.  “I penciled the name on the back.”
Abrevious turned the photo over and looked at the back.
“Yes, that’s Altoise Shimley alright,” he said with a slight chuckle.  “She was one of our most frequent customers, lost a lot of earrings.”
He continued to gaze at the photo for a few moments.
“I’d forgotten about all these pictures,” he said.  “Moody used to love pictures of himself with his customers and friends.  For a long time he had these hanging on the wall beside that one.”  
He nodded toward the picture behind the cash register, then continued, “I finally took them down when I had some work done in here and never put them back up.  That was back in the 1970’s, and nobody remembered most of these people anyway.”
Another customer came in the store.  Orville excused himself and began talking to the customer.
Abrevious continued looking at the photographs, jotting names on the backs in pencil.  He looked at his watch and said suddenly, “I’ve got to go, Orville.  If you’ve got time, I’ll stop back by tomorrow and finish looking at these.”
“That would be great, Abrevious.  I’ll have some lunch here for us, and we’ll make a day of it.  Thanks,” Orville said.
Abrevious walked out the door, and Orville watched as he walked back toward downtown.
Chapter Nine
The next day Abrevious was at the jewelry store early.  He and Orville sat behind one of the counters and Orville spread the photographs out in what he thought was chronological order in front of them. Abrevious started with the most recent photos, the ones that had been taken when he worked at the store, and studied each one carefully.  Besides being able to identify the people in the photos, he remembered things about the town from each era and told Orville wonderful stories about the people and the town.   Orville began taking notes, thinking these stories would make the perfect complement to the photos in the Jubilee exhibit.   
Abrevious noticed Orville writing as fast as he could.  “What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m writing down your stories, Abrevious,” Orville said, “You’ve lived so much of Hiram’s history, I think I should include them in the exhibit.”  
“I don’t know, Orville, this is pretty boring stuff to most people,” Abrevious told him, “It’s only interesting to me because it was my life.”
Orville didn’t think so.  He continued to write as fast as he could.  
“You just keep talking, Abrevious, only, would you slow down a little?” Orville said with a grin.
They spent the rest of the day looking at photographs and telling stories, at least when Orville wasn’t helping customers.  By closing time Abrevious had identified not only Altoise Shimley and Walker Yoakam, but Earl Snave, who had owned the hardware store; Lois Niffel, an orthodontist’s wife; Ellie and Fred Delp who ran the drug store next door; and former Police Chief Hiram “Snik” Yodell as well.  Snik was a direct descendant of Hickey Hiram, Abrevious pointed out.  
One of the earliest photos was of Moody with former Mayor Cox Gano, Luckie Breckenridge, and Ogden Willie sometime after Moody had opened for business.  And there were several photos of Ogden Willie’s wife Zita and her daughter Moonyene.
Abrevious had lots of stories about Zita and Moonyene Willie, their travels and their parties.  They were Hiram royalty.  Abrevious and Moonyene were almost the same age and had attended school together.  Abrevious had always been a little in awe of Moonyene, but they had become friendly after Abrevious began working for Moody.
Orville wrote a few more notes and began putting the photographs away when a thought occurred to him.
“Are you busy tonight, Abrevious?” he asked, “Why don’t you come have dinner with us?  I’ve got a few pieces of jewelry at home that I found in your safe when I moved in.  I am planning to display them at the Jubilee, too.  Maybe you’ve got some stories about those.  How about it?”
“Really?” Abrevious was stunned, “I left jewelry in the safe?”
Orville said, “They had claim tickets attached to them, but no names.  They looked like they’d been there for a very long time, and I couldn’t find any receipt books to match the ticket numbers up to.  Come home with me and see for yourself.”
“Newton, Jasper, I need you to pick up the living room and take your things to your rooms,” Waurika called as she hung up the phone, “Your dad is bringing company home for dinner.”
“Who, Mom?” Newton asked.
“Abrevious Calhoun,” she said, “He’s coming to look at the old jewelry your dad found in the safe at the store.”
Hearing this, I panicked.  I could feel the jewelry trying to kill me again.  I didn’t know whether I should confess to knocking them off the wall or not.  Then another thought occurred to me.  Maybe they’d been knocked off the wall before!  It was possible they could have been broken before I even lived here.  Or they might not be broken at all, I didn’t really know.   I decided to keep my mouth shut at least for now.
Dinner that night was great fun except that I had to play doll the entire time.  Abrevious Calhoun told wonderful stories about Hiram and about Orville’s store.  He seemed to know everybody.  Newton started talking about the play his class was doing at the Jubilee, and Abrevious even told him some stories about the 1910’s.  Of course he had gotten those stories mostly from Moody Marlin, but they still sounded as though he had been there.
“You’ve got a good role, then,” he told Newton, “The mill was the primary industry around here until it closed during the Depression.  The mill was the main reason the Odie started service here.  Those were prosperous years for Hiram.  Good crops, lots of jobs and the new railroad.  The town grew because it had a lot to offer.  Of course I don’t remember it that well; I was just a boy.  We lost a lot of businesses and a lot of people during the Depression.  I do remember that.”
“What’s the Depression?” Jasper asked.
“That’s one of those things you’ll learn about when you’re older,” Waurika told him reassuringly.
“There are a lot of those things,” Jasper mumbled.
After dinner Newton, Jasper and I were sent to our rooms.  I was glad to go because I was tired of playing doll.  At the same time, though, I wanted to know what was going on with the evil jewelry.  
Orville had taken the jewelry into the kitchen where Abrevious was sitting at the table.  
“These were in the safe, you say?” Abrevious asked, “Do you still have the claim checks?”
“They’re behind the mount board in the back of the frame,” Orville told him, “I was afraid I’d lose them otherwise, although I’m really not sure why I kept them.”
He took the back off the frame, and handed Abrevious the claim checks.
Abrevious chuckled.
“These have been in there a long time,” he said, “I stopped using this color claim check after Moody died.  He must have put these in there.”
Orville turned the mount board over so Abrevious could examine the pieces.  Abrevious looked each one over carefully and finally said, “I can’t tell you anything about the bracelet or the cuff link, but the watch is easy.  It belonged to Ogden Willie.  See the inscription, ‘To O.W. From L.B. 3-21-18’?  That’s ‘To Ogden Willie from Luckie Breckenridge on the day Ogden’s daughter Moonyene – Luckie’s granddaughter - was born, March 21, 1918’.  The cameo belonged to Ogden’s wife Zita.”
Orville looked incredulous.
Abrevious continued, “Moonyene’s the one who brought them into the store, and I suppose they still belong to her since she’s still around.”
“You remember when she brought them in?” Orville asked in amazement.
Abrevious laughed again, “Oh, no.  But they both have her mark on them.  See here?”  He pointed to four X’s etched onto the watch, “And here?” indicating the cameo.  “Everything of Moonyene’s has her mark either engraved or written on it.  Just one of her little quirks.  I’m sure she had these marked after she inherited the estate.”
Chapter Ten
“I’m going to mow the yard today,” I said at the breakfast table.  
I noticed when I came in for breakfast that the jewelry pieces and the frame were all lying on the kitchen counter.  I figured I’d better find something useful to do in case I was in trouble.  Then Newton asked what I was dying to know.
“What did Mr. Calhoun say about the jewelry, Dad?”
“He knows who owned the watch and the cameo,” Orville said.  “They belonged to Ogden Willie and his wife.  They were very wealthy, influential people.  Having something of theirs in the exhibit will be impressive.”
After taking a bite of his eggs, Orville had a thought, and said to me, “I don’t think you should mow the lawn, Jeebo.  Neighbors are bound to see you.”
I hadn’t thought about that.  I was still thinking about the fact that Orville hadn’t mentioned any of the jewelry being broken.
“He could mow the back, couldn’t he?” Waurika suggested, “You’ll probably have to start the mower for him before you leave, though.”
So, after breakfast, Orville, Jasper and I went out to the back yard.  Jasper made me wear sunglasses and a baseball cap because he was afraid I’d get a sunburn.  We picked up some stray toys and a couple of baseballs and moved the sprinkler out of the way.  After that Orville got the lawn mower out of the garage and gave me some tips on mowing, things like ‘try not to run over any rocks’ and ‘try to keep the mower out of the flowerbeds’.  Then he started the mower for me and told me not to let go of the gas until I was finished.  He and Jasper watched me negotiate a couple of turns, and then they left for work and school.  
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It took me the whole morning to mow the back yard, but when you consider how short my legs are, I don’t think that was bad.  It would have been a lot slower if the mower hadn’t been self-propelling.  But the yard looked pretty good, I thought, and I managed to stay out of the flowerbeds, too.   I swept off the patio and watered Waurika’s potted lilacs.  I was very tired, but I was even dirtier than I was tired.  So I hosed myself off and then lay down on a bench in the sun to rest and to dry.  
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I guess I fell asleep because the phone woke me up.  I went inside and answered the phone.  It was someone calling for Waurika about a bake sale, and she asked me if my mother was home.  Not until I had hung up the phone did I remember that I can’t write, so I couldn’t leave a note for Waurika.  I had to think of another way to remember the message until she got home.  
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I guess I shouldn’t say that I can’t write exactly.  I can hold a pencil and make marks on paper, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to make actual letters.  Jasper has tried to show me, but to be honest; his letters don’t look a whole lot better than mine.  I think the reason I can’t write is that I don’t have any fingers.  My hands look like mittens – a thumb and the rest of my hand.  
I grabbed a pencil and paper from the desk, and did my best to write the message, and stuck it to the refrigerator.  I figured this way; at least, I would see it and remember to tell Waurika the message.
As the Jubilee drew closer, there was an air of excitement.  Once they’d been enlarged and mounted, Orville brought the pictures for his exhibit home and worked on the layout in the living room.  He had a dozen pictures all together.  Waurika spent evenings typing Orville’s notes into the computer and printing out captions for the pictures and stories to accompany them.  More and more frequently Abrevious was here, too, telling more stories and embellishing some of the ones he’d already told.  
Abrevious had become a part of the Jubilee exhibit.  In an unspoken agreement, Abrevious was going to be in the exhibit booth with Orville during the Jubilee as much as he could.  To Orville this was the perfect blend of past and present that his store represented as one of the oldest continuous businesses in Hiram.  He would have living history in his exhibit.
I spent a lot of time looking at the pictures and the jewelry while I did chores during the day.  Orville and Abrevious had chosen some additional pieces of jewelry to include showing the different styles over the years.  Each piece of jewelry had a spot in the display.  I noticed that one pair of earrings they had chosen looked exactly like the ones Altoise Shimley was wearing in her picture.  Then I noticed that in one of the pictures of Zita Willie, it looked like she was wearing the very cameo that Orville had found in the safe so many years later.  I couldn’t be sure it was the same one, but it sure looked like it.  
All of a sudden I was thunderstruck.  One of the more recent pictures, labeled ‘Moody with Earl Snave @ 1952’ was a picture of someone I recognized from my past!  Before today, the farthest back I could remember was around 1957 when I belonged to Grover Piedmont who called me Cap’n Bob.  But now I had a vague memory of living next door to Earl Snave.  It came back to me in a flood.  I was called Ike then, and I belonged to a boy named Knute Claremore who used to leave me in his tree house.  I used to sit there and watch Earl Snave mow his yard.  
Chapter Eleven
Two weeks before the Jubilee was to start, Orville received his booth assignment, so on Saturday he decided to take the whole exhibit to the civic center and see how it was going to look.  I told Jasper I didn’t want to go because nobody would be able to see or hear me.
“But I want you to come, Jeebo. You can walk around with me even if nobody can see you.  When we get home we can tell Dad what we saw in other booths.  We’ll be spies,” he said.
That really wasn’t a lot of incentive for me, but I said I’d go because Jasper wanted me to.  I did want to see what the exhibit looked like somewhere besides the living room, and ever since I had recognized Earl Snave in a photograph, I was eager to see if anything else brought out more memories of my past.  The only other thing I had remembered since then was that my suit was blue when I knew Earl Snave.
We got everything packed up and started off for the civic center.  Orville was telling Waurika that his booth was in between Midge Nagol, whose family-owned clothing store had been a fixture in Hiram since the 1920’s, and Billy Sith, who owned a grocery store that his great-grandfather had started in the 1890’s.  They were all in a section of family businesses not far from the bigger exhibits of the public library and the fire department.
There were quite a few other cars at the civic center when we arrived.  I sat dutifully still until Jasper got me out of the car and carried me inside.  He set me on the floor outside the booth.  I looked around for a while to see if anything or anybody looked familiar.  I saw the clothing store booth and the grocery booth on either side of us, and across the aisle I saw a furniture store booth and pharmacist’s booth.  The big booths must be on the other side of the big room.  
“Is Abrevious coming down here?” I heard Waurika ask Orville.
“I should probably have asked him,” Orville answered, “But I haven’t heard from him in a few days.  You know how Abrevious is; he’s got a lot of irons in the fire.”
“Hey, Dad,” Newton shouted, “Does it say on there where my play is going to be?”
Orville looked at his map and said, “It’s in the auditorium which is on the other side of the building.”
“Can I go over there and look?” Newton asked.
“I want to go, too,” Jasper chimed in.
Orville and Waurika gave each other a look, then Waurika said, “Okay, but just to see where it is.  Be back here in fifteen minutes.”
“Yes ma’am,” they said in unison.
“Come on, Jeebo,” Jasper said, grabbing me by the arm as they ran off.
We made our way out into the lobby area where still more people were milling around and unloading all sorts of interesting looking things.  Newton led us around a corner that turned out to be the bathrooms and public telephones.  We went back into the lobby and down a different hallway.  There we found two sets of double doors, each marked ‘AUDITORIUM’.  The doors were not locked, so we went inside.  
It was dark inside, but Newton found a light switch and flipped it on.  We were in the back of the auditorium facing the stage.
“Look,” Newton pointed at the stage, “That’s where I’ll be!”  
He ran down the aisle and up onto the stage.
“Hey, Jasper, can you hear me?” he called.
Jasper and I sat down in the middle of the auditorium.
“Yeah, I can hear you,” Jasper answered, “Say some of your lines.”
That was just the invitation Newton was waiting for.  He launched into his favorite scene from the play, delivering his lines very dramatically.
“Hey,” he shouted, “Come up here so I have somebody to say the lines to.”
Jasper started to get up, and then changed his mind.
“I won’t know if people can hear you back here, then,” he said.
“I’ll come sit on the stage so Jasper can listen,” I yelled to Newton.
“Okay,” Newton said, “Jasper, you move farther back and see if you can still hear me.”
I started toward the stage, and Jasper moved back to the back of the auditorium.  When I got to the stage, Newton said, “Okay, Jeebo, stand over here.  That’s where I’ll be talking to the other workers.”
He took his position and yelled, “Ready, Jasper?”
“Ready,” Jasper yelled back.
Newton opened his mouth to speak, but then his eyes got very big, and he just stood there with his mouth open, staring at me.  
“What’s the matter, Newton?” Jasper yelled from the back of the auditorium.
At that moment, I realized what Newton had just realized.  I had walked from my seat up to the stage, and both Newton and Jasper had seen me do it.  They had also heard me talk, and we weren’t anywhere near home.  
“Newton!  What’s the matter?” Jasper asked again, squirming in his seat.
“Jeebo!” Newton said, “He walked up here, and we could see him!”
“So?” Jasper asked.
“We’re not at home, are we?  Remember last time Jeebo left home?  Nobody could see or hear him, not even us,” Newton said, sounding a little exasperated.
They both stared at me as though I’d just been caught at a crime scene.  I felt a little like I’d just been discovered at a crime scene, come to think of it, but I didn’t have any more idea what was going on than they did.
Newton finally said, “We’d better get back over to Mom and Dad before somebody else sees him.  Jeebo, you’d better play doll just to be on the safe side.”
We turned off the lights and left the auditorium with me under Jasper’s arm not knowing how we were going to explain this new development.
Chapter Twelve
“There’s something else I should tell you, too,” I said when Newton and Jasper had told their parents what had just happened in the auditorium.  
We were back in the car now, on our way home, and Waurika thought the boys were playing a joke on her.  She had threatened them with no TV tonight if she didn’t hear me talk or see me do something, so I was talking.  When I said this, she turned and gave me a look that said ‘You’d better not be in on this, too!’
I was sort of afraid to say anything else, but finally I said, “I recognized somebody in one of the pictures for the exhibit.”
They were all looking at me now, even Orville in the rearview mirror, waiting for more.
“Earl Snave,” I said, “He lived next door to a family I used to belong to named Claremore.  I used to watch him mow his lawn.”
“When was this, Jeebo?” Waurika asked.
“The picture says 1952, so I guess that’s right, but until I saw that picture I couldn’t remember anything before I lived at the Piedmont’s.  That was around 1957,” I said.
“How many places have you lived?” Newton asked.
“Well, since 1952,” I said, counting to myself, “Seven, apparently.  But I don’t know what came before that.”
Waurika said, “I thought you said we were the only people who had ever been able to hear or see you.”
“You are,” I reassured her, “The Claremores couldn’t see me move or hear me, but I could still see and hear everything around me.  Knute – their son who I belonged to – used to leave me in his tree house all the time.  From that tree house I could see into the Snaves’ yard, and there wasn’t much to do but watch what they were doing.”
“Why do you suppose that all of a sudden we can see and hear Jeebo away from home now?” I heard Waurika saying to Orville after we’d gotten home.  
“I don’t know,” Orville answered shaking his head, “But the whole situation is getting stranger.  It’s almost as if he’s connected to those pictures somehow.  And every time he remembers a little more of his past, he becomes a little more human.”
“What do you think we should do,” Waurika asked.
“If we wait long enough, Jeebo will probably tell us,” Orville said, trying to sound casual, but I got the impression he was worried.
I had a whole new reason to be worried myself now.  They obviously weren’t going to get rid of me for breaking the jewelry, but rather than relax, now I was worried that they were a little afraid of me, or of what I might become.  And what was worse was that I didn’t know any more than they did.  I couldn’t explain why suddenly I had recognized Earl Snave or why, just as suddenly, I was “alive” away from home.  For all I knew Orville was right, and I was a little bit afraid, too.
The Jubilee would be opening tomorrow, so today had turned into an unofficial school and work holiday for the whole town.  Almost everybody involved in the Jubilee was at the Civic Center taking care of last minute details.  Jasper made us go to the Library’s exhibit and see the mural his kindergarten class had worked so hard on.  He allowed us to look at the whole mural, but most of our attention was focused on the section that Jasper had worked on himself.  I couldn’t really tell what it was supposed to be, but I didn’t tell Jasper that.  He was so proud of his drawing, so I told him it was great.
When we got back to our booth, one of Newton’s classmates was there with Abrevious, talking excitedly and looking around frantically.  When he saw us, he came running up to Waurika and Orville.  
“Mrs. Zoys sent me to get you,” he panted.  
Mrs. Zoys was Newton’s teacher.
“It’s Newton!  He tripped and fell off the stage.  He hit his head, and they’re calling an ambulance right now!” he said, beckoning them to follow him.
“Oh my goodness!” Waurika gasped.
She grabbed Jasper by the hand, and we ran around to the auditorium where Newton’s class had been having a dress rehearsal of their play.  
“Go on, Orville, I’ll take care of this,” said Abrevious, who had been there all afternoon helping set up the exhibit.  He shooed Orville after the rest of us.  
When we reached the auditorium we found a crowd of students in costumes standing and sitting on the edge of the stage being very quiet while a handful of adults scurried around Newton.  The student who had brought us here led us up to the edge of the pit.
“Mrs. Zoys, I found them,” he said quietly.
Before Mrs. Zoys could say anything, Waurika had rushed into the orchestra pit where Newton lay unconscious with a gash on his forehead.
Orville told Jasper to go sit in the seats and wait for them, then he followed Waurika into the pit.
“The paramedics should be here any minute,” Mrs. Zoys was saying to Waurika when Orville walked up.
“What happened, exactly?” he asked her.
“Well, he was to cross from here to there,” she said, pointing her shaking hand at the stage, “But he appeared to trip and then fell head first before anyone knew what was happening.  No one was close enough to catch him.  I’m so sorry.”
She began to cry, but continued anyway, “We called 9-1-1 immediately, and they told us not to touch him until the paramedics get here.  And, of course, I sent Timmy to get you.”  
Jasper was holding me so tightly I could barely breathe, and I couldn’t see anything that was going on, but I heard the paramedics arrive.  Jasper finally got up and walked over to Orville who took his hand.  Now I could see the paramedics bending over Newton, but I still couldn’t breathe very well.
One of the paramedics was talking to Mrs. Zoys and a couple of other teachers while two others picked Newton up very carefully and strapped him to a gurney.  They lifted the gurney out of the orchestra pit, then extended the wheels and rolled Newton toward the door.  The paramedic who had been talking to Mrs. Zoys came over to Waurika and Orville and asked if one of them would like to ride to the hospital in the ambulance with Newton.
“You go, honey,” Orville said to Waurika, “Jasper and I will follow you in the car.”
She gave him a hug, then gave Jasper a hug, and turned to follow the paramedic.
We walked back over to the other side of the building where several people stopped Orville to offer help and ask if there was anything they could do.  Jasper and I sat down in the booth beside Abrevious until Orville was ready to leave.
“What’s his name?” Abrevious asked Jasper, pointing to me.
“Jeebo,” Jasper said.
“Your best friend?” Abrevious asked.
Jasper nodded.
“Everybody needs a best friend he can trust.  May I see him?” Abrevious said.
Jasper nodded again and handed me to Abrevious.  
“I think this guy’s been around a while,” Abrevious told Jasper, “I haven’t seen a doll like this in a long time.  Where did you get him?”
“My brother won him at the Harvest Festival,” Jasper told him, “He said he was too old for a doll, so he gave Jeebo to me.”
“Look here,” Abrevious said.  
He was holding up the lapel of my jacket for Jasper to look underneath.
“I’ll bet he was somebody else’s best friend once,” he said, continuing to look me over making my arms and legs flop around uncomfortably.
“Why?” Jasper asked.
“Somebody cared enough about him to put a new suit on him.  Looks like he had a plaid one on before he got this pink one.  See?” Abrevious said.
Orville came into the booth and talked to Abrevious for a few minutes before telling Jasper it was time to go.  
“Don’t worry about a thing here, Orville.  I’ll be here early tomorrow.  You just take care of that boy,” Abrevious said as he waved goodbye.
On our way to the hospital, I started telling Jasper about my plaid suit to get his mind off Newton, but he didn’t seem to be listening.  I tapped him on the hand, but he didn’t seem to notice that either.  So I stood up and got in his face, and said, “Jasper, are you listening?”  He didn’t see or hear that either, and neither, apparently, did Orville.  Fearing the worst, I dove over the back of the seat into the front seat with Orville, but nobody noticed.  My suspicions confirmed, I climbed back into the back seat and sat down.  All of a sudden I had stopped being alive again.  
Chapter Thirteen
The emergency room was crowded when we walked in, but the nurse at the desk told Orville they had already taken Newton to an examining room.  She waved another nurse over and asked her to show us to the examining room.  Orville hesitated for a minute, but then said, “Come on, Jasper.  I have to find out what’s happening, then you and I will find a place to sit.”
Jasper and I followed silently behind him.  The nurse pulled back a curtain, and I saw Waurika sitting in a chair beside the bed where Newton lay, still unconscious.  
“Has the doctor been in yet?” Orville asked Waurika.
“Yes,” she said, “He…”
The doctor came back in at that moment.
“Mr. Driggers?” he said shaking Orville’s hand, “I’m Doctor Hughes.  We’re just about to take your son down to x-ray, so I can get a better look.”
A nurse followed him into the room.  She raised the side rails on Newton’s bed, and began pushing the bed out of the room as we all stepped away from the door.
“I’ll be right behind you,” the doctor said to her.  He turned back to Orville and Waurika.  “The paramedics said he fell about six feet onto concrete,” he said, “There’s not much blood externally, which is good, but he has, at the very least, a concussion.  What I won’t know until I see the x-rays, but am afraid of, is that there is bleeding internally.  If that is the case, he will require surgery to repair the damage as soon as possible.”  
Waurika gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.  
The doctor went on, “Please feel free to stay here, or if you’d be more comfortable in the waiting area, I will find you in there just as soon as we’re through.”
“If you want to wait here,” Orville said to Waurika, “I’ll take Jasper into the waiting room and get him something to drink.  You can come get me when they get back.”
“No, I’ll come with you,” she said.
She took Jasper’s hand from Orville’s, and we all went back into the waiting area.  Orville found vending machines and got everyone something to drink and Jasper a candy bar.  I wanted to be some help or comfort, but nobody had yet noticed that I wasn’t talking.  And here in public they would expect me to play doll anyway, so I just lay there in the chair where Jasper had put me down.
It had probably only been about half an hour, but it felt like hours when the nurse who had wheeled Newton into x-ray came into the waiting room and found us.  She said that Dr. Hughes was ready to talk to us.  As we got up to go back to the examination room, the Emergency Room door opened, and in walked Abrevious Calhoun.  He was carrying a fast food take-out bag.
“Abrevious!”  Orville said when he saw him, “We’re just going to talk to the doctor.”
“I’ll wait out here,” Abrevious said to Orville, “and you can sit with me if you want to,” he said to Jasper, “I’ve got hamburgers.”
Orville gave Abrevious a grateful look and told Jasper to go have a hamburger.  
I was very uncomfortable in the position Jasper had left me in the chair.  My head was on the arm, and my right leg was all twisted up under me.  Since nobody could see or hear me anyway, and Abrevious was asking Jasper all sorts of questions about school and friends, I decided to stretch my legs while they enjoyed their hamburgers.  Besides, smelling their hamburgers was making me hungry.  
So I climbed down off the chair, but when I did I heard Abrevious say to Jasper,
“Uh oh, your friend just slid out of his chair.”  
I froze where I was, and then Jasper reached down and picked me up and sat me back in the chair.  I was thoroughly confused now.  Nobody could see or hear me just a little while ago, but Abrevious had seen me get out of the chair just now.  When Abrevious went to the men’s room a little later, I tugged on Jasper’s sleeve as discreetly as possible.
Jasper looked down at me.
“What, Jeebo?” he asked in a whisper.
“You can hear me now?” I asked him.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Pick me up so that I’m facing you.  I don’t want other people to see me talking,” I said quickly.
Jasper picked me up where it appeared he was having a conversation with me.  It didn’t matter that people could see him talking to me.  No one would think twice about a five-year-old talking to his doll.
“When we were in the car on the way over here, you and your dad couldn’t hear me at all,” I told him, “But just now when I climbed out of the chair, Abrevious saw me, and you can hear me now.  It’s getting harder to know when I’m going to be alive, and when I’m not.  I don’t know what’s going on.”
Abrevious reappeared at that moment and sat down saying, with a smile, “That must be something very important you’re talking about. You look serious.”
“Jeebo was just telling me that he didn’t fall out of the chair,” Jasper told him, “He got down on purpose, but you weren’t supposed to see him.”
“Why wasn’t I supposed to see him?” Abrevious asked.
“Nobody but our family is supposed to know he can walk and talk,” Jasper whispered to him.
“Oh,” Abrevious whispered, “Well, I promise not to tell anybody.  It’ll be our secret.  Can I say something to him?”
Jasper handed me to Abrevious who sat me in his lap and said, for Jasper’s benefit I was certain, “I promise to keep your secret, Jeebo, if I can be your friend, too.”
He was looking me over again, turning me upside down, looking at my hair and feet, and checking for other suits under the pink and plaid ones.  He finally handed me back to Jasper.
“You say your brother won him at a school festival?” he asked Jasper.
“Uh huh, at Halloween,” Jasper replied.
“I’d like to know where he came from before that,” Abrevious said, more to himself than to Jasper, “They haven’t made dolls like this for a very long time.  I’ll bet he’s got some stories to tell.”
Chapter Fourteen
When I woke up, Orville was talking to Abrevious.  Jasper was asleep in his lap, and Iwas back in a chair.  I don’t know how long Orville had been sitting there, but I heard him say, “They’re operating at 8:00 tomorrow morning.  Waurika is going to sleep here at the hospital, but I’ve got to take Jasper home.”
Abrevious had a note pad on his knee and was writing something down.  
“I don’t see how I can be there tomorrow, Abrevious.  I hate to do this to you,” Orville was saying.
“Orville, it was my store for almost thirty years.  And, don’t forget, I’m the one who told you all those stories in the first place,” Abrevious said, “You don’t need to worry about the booth at all.”
“I’m not worried about the booth, Abrevious.  You’ll be a much bigger attraction than I would be anyway.  I’m just sorry to dump it all on you alone,” Orville told him.
He hesitated for a minute, but then said, “No, it’s not the booth I’m worried about.  It’s Newton, and the surgery, and how I’m going to pay for it.  My insurance will pay part of it, but I don’t know what I’ll do about the rest.”
“Like I said,” Abrevious told him, “Now’s not the time to worry about anything except that boy’s health.  The rest will work itself out.  You have to believe that.”
Orville nodded, and we started to leave, but Abrevious stopped us before we got out the door.
“Would you like to leave the little guy at the Jubilee with me tomorrow?” he said, “You’re going to have a long day at the hospital.”
Orville considered the offer, saying, “That’s an awful lot to take on, Abrevious, and I have to be at the hospital at 8:00.  That’s awfully early.”
“I’ll be at the booth by 8:00,” Abrevious said.
��Okay, if you’re sure you don’t mind.  I know Jasper would be happier there where there’s so much going on.  I’ll take him to get some breakfast, and then I’ll drop him off at the Jubilee.  I really appreciate this, Abrevious,” Orville answered.
By the time we got home it was after midnight.  Orville got the sleeping Jasper out of the car and told me to come along.  I followed out of the car and up the sidewalk, but Orville stopped and turned around and went back to the car.
“Jeebo, come on,” he said, “I can’t carry both of you.”  
But even though I thought I was standing on the sidewalk, obviously Orville thought I was still sitting in the car.  
‘Uh oh,’ I thought to myself, ‘Not again.’
I had no way to tell him that evidently I was, once again, not alive.  
Orville reached inside the car and shook me - the other me.
“Are you asleep, too?  I need you to walk to the house yourself,” he said in exasperation.
I guess it finally dawned on him because he said simply, “Oh, great.”
He grabbed my right arm and pulled me out of the car, dropping me on the porch while he unlocked the front door.  He carried us to Jasper’s room, and while he took off Jasper’s shoes, he said to me, “What’s going on with you?”
I said ‘I wish I knew’, but I could tell he hadn’t heard me.
“I thought you were getting more alive, not less,” Orville said.
Jasper stirred then, waking up enough to sit up.
“Are we at home?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Orville, “Mom’s going to sleep at the hospital with Newton.”
“Where’s Jeebo?” Jasper asked.
“He’s right here, but something has happened, I think,” Orville said, “He’s not talking or walking right now.”
Jasper looked down at me.
“At the hospital he told me that while we were driving to the hospital he was trying to talk to us, and we couldn’t hear him,” Jasper told him.
Orville looked at him, and then at me.
“You couldn’t hear him on the way to the hospital, but you could hear him at the hospital?” he asked.
“Yes, and Mr. Calhoun could see him, too,” Jasper said.
“Abrevious saw him moving?” Orville asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.
“Yeah, he thought Jeebo fell out of his chair, but really Jeebo got out of his chair on purpose, Jasper said, “I told Mr. Calhoun Jeebo did it on purpose, but he wasn’t supposed to see it.  Mr. Calhoun promised not to tell anybody.  He said it would be our secret.”
Across town, Abrevious sat down at his kitchen table with a cup of tea and the pad of notes he had been making.  He had brought the jewelry from the exhibit home with him for safekeeping, but he’d had another reason for bringing it with him, too.  He opened the box and looked over each piece once again.  These pieces brought back such strong memories of people and places long gone.  These memories made Abrevious feel old and sort of sad and happy at the same time, and he was certain they would have the same effect on someone else.  He snapped out of his reverie, made a couple more notes on his pad, and packed the jewelry back in the box.  
Chapter Fifteen
At 7:00 the next morning, Abrevious rang the doorbell of the grand old home, still the largest house in Hiram.  A housekeeper opened the door and greeted him with a smile.
“Good morning, Mr. Calhoun.  Aren’t you the early bird today?” she said.
“It’s a big day, Gwennie.  The Anniversary Jubilee is going on over at the civic center, and I’ve got a booth to run,” Abrevious answered as he entered the house, “Is she up and about?”
“Oh, yes sir, she’s in the sun room,” Gwennie said, “Would you like some coffee?”
“No thanks, I can’t stay very long,” he answered as he walked toward the back of the house.
He found Moonyene sitting in her customary chair by the window reading a book, one of her cats stretched out in a strip of sunlight at her feet.
At eighty, Moonyene didn’t leave the house much anymore, preferring to entertain her few visitors at her home, and she loved to entertain them.   She made a point of dressing every day as if there were some special event because she never knew when someone might drop in, and she wanted to be prepared for the impromptu teatime.  Abrevious, as one of her most frequent visitors, was accustomed to being invited to stay for lunch or dinner.
“Abrevious!” she said when she looked up from her book, “ You just missed breakfast, but I can have Gwennie bring us some tea and cookies.”
Abrevious was prepared, though.
“I can’t stay today, Moonyene,” he said, “I am running the booth for my old store at the Anniversary Jubilee this weekend.  You remember the Jubilee, don’t you?”
“Of course I do, silly, I’m not senile!” she retorted, “So what brings you here at 7:00 in the morning then?”
Abrevious held up the box he was carrying and said, “I want you to see something.  These are part of the exhibit, and I have to get them over there before 8:00.”
Moonyene leaned toward him eagerly.  “Well, let’s see, then.  I love surprises,” she said.
Abrevious set the box on the table beside her and opened it without a word.
Her eye was immediately drawn to the cameo brooch.  
“This looks exactly like a piece my mother had,” she said picking it up, “Identical, in fact.”
She turned the brooch over and saw the four X’s etched on the back.  
“Abrevious,” she said in a startled voice, “This is my mother’s!  Or, rather, it’s mine.  My mark is on it. I’ve put that mark on everything since I was a child.”
Then she noticed the watch.
“And this was my father’s watch,” she said, opening the watch and reading the inscription, “The one my grandparents gave him when I was born.”
She gave Abrevious an uncertain look, then turned her attention back to the other pieces in the box.  Not recognizing any others, she turned back to Abrevious.
“I’d rather forgotten about the brooch,” she said quietly, “But I thought I had lost this watch.  I haven’t seen it in decades.  My father used to let me play with it when I was a girl.  Where did you get it?”
Abrevious told her the story of Orville’s discovery and how, now, the pieces had come to be in the Jubilee exhibit.
“I knew these were yours as soon as Orville showed them to me,” he told her, “Of course I recognized your mark.  Once the Jubilee is over, I plan to ask Orville to give them back to you.”  
He gave a little laugh and said, “But I guess it’s really my fault he has them in the first place.  I’m the one who didn’t clean out the safe when I sold the place.”
“No,” she said, “It’s my fault.  I left these with Moody probably thirty years ago and then forgot about them.  I would dearly love to have them back, but if Mr. Driggers wants to keep them, he should have them.  He’s taken better care of them than I did.”
She was gazing at the watch, and Abrevious knew he’d been right.  She was lost in memories, probably of her childhood.
“If you’re feeling up to it,” Abrevious said, changing the subject, “I thought you might like to come with me to the Jubilee.  You’re a big part of this town’s history, and there are plenty of exhibits featuring your parents and grandparents, not to mention pictures of you in our booth.”
“Pictures of me, why?  And why are you running the booth, anyway, if it’s not your store anymore?” Moonyene asked him.
Abrevious explained to her about Newton’s accident and the surgery and how worried Orville was.  
“That poor child,” she said, “I’ve never met the family, but after seeing my father’s watch and mother’s brooch again, I feel like we’re almost family somehow.  Please let me know how he’s doing, Abrevious.”
“I don’t think I’ll go with you just now,” she continued a moment later, “Maybe I’ll ask Gwennie to take me over this afternoon.”
Abrevious had expected this response.  He took the watch from her and placed it back in the box with the rest of the jewelry.  He touched her hand and told her goodbye.  He had known all along she wouldn’t go with him.
Moonyene thought about the watch and cameo most of the rest of the morning, remembering her parents and grandparents and especially Momo.  She and Momo had used the watch as a wall clock for their dolls when Momo used to visit her.  She still missed Momo terribly, and hearing of her death last fall had been a blow, though they hadn’t seen each other in seventy years.  In all these years Moonyene had never been able to rid herself of the feeling that she could have done so much more for Momo.
Chapter Sixteen
6:00AM came very early the next morning.  Jasper had a hard time getting out of bed even with the promise of breakfast out, but after a stack of pancakes he began to perk up and get excited about the Jubilee and spending the day with Abrevious.
“I don’t think you should tell Mr. Calhoun too much about Jeebo,” Orville told him.
“It’s okay, Dad, he said he wouldn’t tell anybody,” Jasper replied, “And he said he wants to be Jeebo’s friend, too.”
“I’m sure he does,” Orville said, “But just the same, I don’t think you should say too much.  It’s hard for people to understand about Jeebo, so we have to be careful.”
Jasper just looked at him as he ate his pancakes.
“Besides,” Orville went on, “Abrevious is going to be very busy today.  You try to stay out of his way, okay.”
“Okay,” Jasper said, but Orville wasn’t sure he was really paying attention.
“And Jeebo,” Orville said to me, “since we’re not sure what’s going on with you, please be careful.  A lot of people could accidentally see you today.”
Since I was still not alive I couldn’t answer him, but luckily he didn’t seem to expect me to.
It was a beautiful day for the Jubilee, and the civic center was already busy when we got there.  Abrevious was in the booth talking to Midge Nagol, Billy Sith and two other people I didn’t recognize.  He had the booth all set up, and it looked great.  He had chairs for himself and Jasper to sit in, a cooler full of juice and soft drinks, several sandwiches, a bunch of grapes and some cookies.  
“Wow, Abrevious, you’ve got quite the setup here,” Orville said as we walked up.   He said hello to Midge, Billy and the others, and complimented them on their booths.  Then he turned back to Abrevious.
“I really appreciate this,” he said, “Here’s my cell number.  Call me if Jasper gets to be too much.”
“Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine,” Abrevious said, more to Jasper than to Orville, “Won’t we?”
“Uh huh,” Jasper said, rummaging through the cooler to see what was below.
“Be good, and do whatever Abrevious says, Jasper, okay?” Orville said.
“Okay, Dad.  Tell Mom where I am,” Jasper answered.
Orville and Abrevious both chuckled.
Visitors began arriving very early, and it didn’t take long for the booth to fill up.  Everybody seemed to know Abrevious, either personally or by reputation, and they loved listening to his stories about the jewelry store and the town.  They wandered in at a steady pace all morning.  Abrevious would sometimes introduce Jasper to someone, but most of the people didn’t pay any attention to Jasper and me, so I decided to take a chance and stretch my legs after we’d been sitting there for several hours.  I stood up.  Nobody seemed to notice anything.  I tapped Jasper on the shoulder.
“Jasper,” I said.
“Huh?” he answered.
“You can hear me now?” I asked, somewhat surprised, but not entirely.
“Yeah,” he said, comprehension dawning on his face, “You better sit back down.”
I did, but I said to Jasper, “Put me where I can see what’s going on.  If I can’t move, at least I want to be able to watch.”
This turned out to be a good idea.  From my perch I could watch not only our booth, but several of the surrounding booths as well.  So despite the fact that I had to play doll all day, there was plenty of activity to keep me entertained.  I was actually enjoying myself, but Jasper was getting restless.   
When there was a slight break in the crowd, Abrevious sat down beside us and offered Jasper a sandwich.  
“Are you enjoying it so far?” Abrevious asked Jasper.
“Yeah, it’s neat, but I want to go look at some of the other stuff.  Can I?” he asked.  
“That might not be such a good idea,” Abrevious said, “If I let you get lost, your father wouldn’t be happy with me.”
“I won’t get lost,” Jasper protested, “I promise I won’t go outside.  Can Jeebo have a cookie?”
“Sure he can.  Does he like chocolate chip or sugar better?” Abrevious said.
“Do you want chocolate chip, Jeebo” Jasper asked.
I shook my head, imperceptibly I hoped.
“Sugar?” Jasper asked.
I nodded, again hoping only Jasper would notice, but I saw Abrevious looking at me.
“He says sugar, please,” Jasper said.
“I believe he did,” said Abrevious, handing a sugar cookie to Jasper and watching me.
Jasper put the cookie in my hand, but I didn’t dare make a move.  Abrevious watched me a little longer, but then turned back to his lunch.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said to Jasper, “You and Jeebo can walk down to the end of this aisle and back, but don’t go around any corners, okay?  Stay where I can see you, understand?” Abrevious told him.
“Uh huh.  I will,” Jasper said excitedly.
“But finish your sandwich first,” Abrevious told him.
Jasper stuffed the rest of his sandwich in his mouth in one bite and grabbed me around the middle.  We started off up the aisle through the crowd.  
Abrevious looked where I’d been sitting.  There was no cookie.
Chapter Seventeen
Abrevious gave us about two minutes head start before he asked Billy Sith to keep an eye on the booth and started up the aisle after us.  He’d had no intention of letting Jasper out of his sight all along, but there was something else.  He didn’t want to admit to anyone that he thought he had now seen me move on two occasions.  Slipping out of my chair was one thing, but seeing me nod my head was not normal.  So he wanted to watch us unobserved to see what happened.  
He spotted us about three booths up the aisle looking at a map of the town and paced himself along behind us as we stopped at every booth and looked at what was inside.  He could occasionally hear Jasper saying something to me, but of course poor Abrevious had no way of knowing that I would be playing doll out in public, so I never answered.  I was being especially careful as we moved among the other booth visitors.    
The candy store had a booth at the end of the aisle.  Jasper and I spent quite a while in there looking at pictures of how they used to make candy.  They were giving away token-sized bags of candies that were popular at different times during their history, so Jasper and I sat down against the wall to enjoy our bag of 1940’s era candy.  
Realizing he was probably out of luck, Abrevious turned back up the aisle at that point.  There was no telling how long we’d sit on the floor watching people and eating candy, and he had a booth to look after.  
Just as he got back to the booth his cell phone rang.  It was Orville calling from the hospital.
“How did the surgery go,” Abrevious asked him.
Orville sounded exhausted when he answered, “The doctor said everything went exactly as it should have and that Newton will be just fine, but he’ll be here a little while.  How has Jasper been?  Has he given you any trouble?”
“He’s been great company,” Abrevious said, “I just let him and his doll walk down the hall alone.  They’re sitting against the far wall eating candy right now.  How are you holding up, Orville?”
“Just tired,” Orville answered, “Relieved and tired.”  
Abrevious knew there was more to it than just being tired.  He knew how worried Orville was about the cost of the surgery and hospital stay.  
“I’m going to stay here a while longer, if that’s okay,” Orville was saying, “Then I’ll come by and pick up Jasper around closing.”
“I’ll bring him home when we’re finished here,” Abrevious said, “We might have to go get some dinner first, though.  We’re having a good time together.”
“But…,” Orville tried to say, but Abrevious cut him off.
“And don’t try to argue,” Abrevious said.
Abrevious could almost hear Orville smile.
“I owe you, Abrevious,” Orville said.
“What all did you see?” Abrevious asked Jasper while he was packing up the booth after all the day’s visitors had left.
“Lots of neat stuff,” Jasper said, “There’s one place down there that’s showing movies.  I watched part of one that was about the mill I think ‘cause everybody was dressed like Newton was for his play.  Then they started showing a different one, I guess about the Odie.  There were trains in it, anyway.  And there was a neat candy store.  It looked really old, and they gave away free candy.  I ate mine already.  Can we walk around to the other side before my dad gets here?”
“What are you going to look at tomorrow if you look at everything today?” Abrevious asked him, “Why don’t we pack up and go get something to eat instead?   “Is my dad going with us?” Jasper wanted to know.
“No, just you, me and Jeebo,” Abrevious said conspiratorially, “So we can have whatever you want.”
“Chicken nuggets,” Jasper answered matter-of-factly, “With no sauce.”
“Would you mind running an errand with me before we eat?” Abrevious asked.
“Okay,” Jasper said.
Jasper had never been inside such a big house, and he’d never had the door answered by a housekeeper before.  He’d never even seen a housekeeper before.  He stared around himself in awe at the paintings on the walls and the huge flower arrangements on tables as he followed Abrevious down the hall.  He thought the house looked like a church.
Jasper probably didn’t realize it, but he was carrying me by one arm so that my other arm was dragging along the floor.  I had a very different view down here.  I saw baseboards and table and chair legs instead of paintings and flower arrangements.  Just before we turned a corner, I had a glimpse of the kitchen ahead, and something stirred in my memory again.  Something in that kitchen was familiar.   I wanted to find a way to get in there to see what it was.  But at that moment we turned and I was face to face with a fireplace instead.  I understood, somehow, that we had arrived in Moonyene Willie’s living room.
Chapter Eighteen
“I didn’t see you this afternoon, Moonyene,” Abrevious said, giving her a knowing smile.
Moonyene returned the smile and said, “So you’ve done the next best thing, and brought company to see what a living piece of history looks like?”
“Not exactly,” Abrevious said, “This is Jasper, the Driggers’ younger son.  He spent the day helping me out in the booth today.”
Moonyene smiled a generous smile at Jasper.
“I’m very pleased to meet you Jasper.  My name is Moonyene,” she said.
“Are you the same Moonyene from the pictures at the Jubilee?” Jasper asked, a look of awe on his face.
“The very same,” Abrevious told him, “I thought you two might like to get to know each other.  I think you have a lot in common.”
“And who is your friend?” Moonyene asked Jasper.
Jasper held me up to face her.
“This is Jeebo,” he said, and he stuck my hand out to shake hers.
But Moonyene’s face had gone pale, and her mouth dropped open as she stared at me.
“Moonyene?” Abrevious said, kneeling beside her, “Are you alright?”
She looked from me to Abrevious.
“How is this possible, Abrevious?” she said, “First the brooch and the watch, and now this doll?”
“Do you think Moonyene might hold Jeebo for just a minute?” Abrevious asked Jasper.
Jasper handed me to Moonyene.  She stared hard at me, taking in every aspect of my appearance.  Then she lifted my left leg and looked at the bottom of my foot.  She let out a gasp and clasped my foot to her chest.
“You saw it, didn’t you, Abrevious?” she said, her eyes filling with tears, “That’s why you’ve brought them here, and the jewelry, too.”
“Saw what?” Jasper wanted to know, “I want to see.”
Abrevious took me from Moonyene and showed Jasper the bottom of my left foot, pointing at some stitching near my heel.
“What does XXXX mean?” Jasper asked.
“It means that a long time ago Jeebo used to belong to Moonyene,” Abrevious said.
Moonyene took me back from Abrevious and, pointing to the stitching, said, “It isn’t really X-X-X-X, but I wanted it to look that way.  Actually it’s an M on top of a W, my initials.  See?”
She moved her finger first along the M, then along the W.
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“Did you ever figure out my mark, Abrevious?” she asked.
Abrevious shook his head.
Suddenly it all made sense to me, and before I could stop myself I had blurted out, “That’s why I recognize the kitchen!”
Moonyene and Abrevious were staring at me, looks of shock on their faces, and Jasper was yelling, “Jeebo, you’re not supposed to talk in front of people!”
After taking a few minutes to collect himself, Abrevious patted Jasper’s shoulder with a shaky hand and said, “It’s okay. I’ve suspected for a couple of days that there was something special about Jeebo.”
Then, with a laugh, he added, “I don’t understand it, but it makes me feel a little better to know it’s him and not me.”
“So we’re not in trouble?” Jasper asked.
“You’re not in trouble,” Abrevious reassured him, “I told you the other day that I wanted to be Jeebo’s friend, too, remember?”
Jasper nodded.
Abrevious turned back to me and said, “Have you always been able to talk?”
“He walks, too,” Jasper interjected, “He’s like a real person.  At home he does chores just like Newton and me.”
That drew a laugh from Abrevious and Moonyene.
“No one has ever been able to see or hear me before the Driggers,” I told them, “But I’ve been the same for as long as I can remember.”
“And how long is that?” Abrevious asked.
“It was as far back as 1957 for a long time,” I told them, “Then just recently, while we were working on the Jubilee exhibit, I recognized a picture of Earl Snave from 1952, and I could remember a little further back.  That was all before I recognized the kitchen today.”
Moonyene had been silent for a while, but this made her ask, “You belonged to Earl Snave?”
“No ma’am,” I said, “I belonged to his next door neighbors, the Claremores, but I used to watch Mr. Snave mow his lawn.”
That made both Abrevious and Moonyene laugh again, then Moonyene said, “Would you like to know the beginning of your history?”
“Yes, ma’am, I really would,” I said.
“Me, too!” Jasper chimed in.
Moonyene sat me on her lap like a child, and said, “My grandfather, Luckie Breckenridge, the same one who gave my father the watch, bought you for me when I was four-years-old.  He was a very generous man, and he loved to give me presents.  I was his only grandchild.  I named you Lucky W. in honor of him.  I didn’t understand when I was four that his name wasn’t Willie, just like mine.  That’s where the W came from.”  
“You had a brown suit on when you were brand new,” she added.
“That was a long time ago, wasn’t it?” Jasper asked.
Everyone laughed again.
Moonyene whispered, “I don’t tell many people this, but I’ll tell you.  It was 1922, a very long time ago.”
Then she continued, “My best friend in the world was our maid’s granddaughter.  Her name was Momo.  Momo used to come play with me while her grandmother took care of our house, and we always played dolls.  I had a lot of dolls to choose from, but she always chose you to play with.  You were her favorite.”
“We made a house for our dolls under the dining room table pretending the tablecloth was our walls.  And I pinned my father’s watch to the tablecloth to be our clock.  Because your name was Lucky W., you always played the grandfather in our game.  You were the wise, kind one.  Momo made sure of that.  Whichever doll I played with each time had to be the mischievous child.”
This gave her cause to smile, remembering their games.
“Well, when I was nine,” she went on, “Momo’s grandmother got sick, and she had to stop working for us, so Momo couldn’t come play with me anymore.”
“Did you invite her?” Jasper asked.
Moonyene smiled sadly and glanced at Abrevious.  
“I wanted to,” she said, “But she lived across town, and there wasn’t anybody to bring her.”
This was not exactly the truth, but she didn’t feel right telling a five-year-old that her mother didn’t approve of inviting Momo over if her grandmother wasn’t working.
Moonyene continued her story, “I knew this meant I probably wouldn’t see Momo again, and I didn’t want to forget her – or her to forget me – so I decided to give her a special Christmas present, something that would mean a lot to both of us.”
“It was me, wasn’t it?” I said.
“It was you, she said, “And that was the last I ever saw of you. Years later, I heard that Momo’s family had moved to Alabama to be closer to her mother’s sister.  I’ve always wondered what happened to you after that.  Then, just a few months ago, I learned that Momo had passed away, and it made me start wondering all over again.”
We didn’t stay at Moonyene’s long.  She invited us to stay for dinner, but Abrevious explained that we were sneaking off to eat chicken nuggets before going home.  
Jasper was still a little afraid of being in trouble, so he decided not to tell Orville about meeting Moonyene at all.  And it seemed as if Abrevious understood this because he didn’t say anything either when he dropped us off at home.  He just walked us to the door, and handed us over to Orville saying he’d see us bright and early tomorrow.  
Orville asked Jasper about his experiences at the Jubilee and told him that Newton was going to be alright, but everyone was exhausted, so we all went to bed early.  When I said goodnight to Jasper, and he didn’t respond, I tapped him on the back, and said goodnight again.  When he still didn’t respond, but his eyes were open, I realized that, once again, he couldn’t hear me.
Chapter Nineteen
“So, did the Claremores get Jeebo after Momo?” Jasper was asking Abrevious.  
They were getting the booth ready early Sunday morning, and Jasper had been asking questions since Abrevious had picked him up.
“Hard to say,” Abrevious said, “They could have, or he could have belonged to somebody else – or several somebodies – in between.  We may never know his whole story unless he remembers something else.”
“Can anybody hear me?” I asked.
“Yeah, why?” Jasper said.
“Because last night when I said goodnight, you couldn’t hear me, so I was checking,” I said.
“Can we visit Miss Willie again sometime?  I like her.” Jasper asked.
“I’m sure she would love that, Jasper,” Abrevious told him, “Now what’s this about you not being able to hear Jeebo last night?”
“Sometimes we can’t hear him,” Jasper said, “It used to only be if we weren’t at home, but it happens at home sometimes now.”
Abrevious was curious now.
“And you can hear him when you’re not at home sometimes now, too?” he said.
“Uh huh,” Jasper answered.
“And last night, after I took you home, you couldn’t hear him?” Abrevious said.
Jasper shrugged, and said, “I guess not.”
“You definitely couldn’t hear me,” I added helpfully.
Abrevious thought this over.  Everyone could hear me while we were at Moonyene’s house, and in the car on the way home, but Jasper couldn’t hear me once we were home.  But Jasper had said it used to happen only away from home.  What had changed?
“How long ago did they start having trouble hearing you at home, Jeebo?” Abrevious asked me.
I said, “The night of Newton’s accident.  Nobody could hear me when we got home from the hospital.”
“That was just a couple of days ago.  When was the first time they could hear you away from home,” he asked.
I thought about it for a minute, and then said, “The first time we all went to the Civic Center to see where our booth was going to be.”
Abrevious wrote both these incidents down on his note pad and studied them.  Whenever there was a lull in the booth, he would study the note pad again, sometimes adding more notes.
Everyone in the vicinity turned to look when Jasper’s voice rose above the crowd.
“Hi, Miss Willie!” he exclaimed.
As Moonyene Willie approached Abrevious’s booth that afternoon, accompanied by her housemaid, whispers could be heard spreading like fire through the crowd.  No one could remember seeing Moonyene out in public in almost fifteen years.  Many people had never seen her, but knew her only as the mysterious source of so much goodwill in Hiram.
Abrevious came out of the booth and took Moonyene’s arm, guiding her into the booth.
“You’re here!” he said to her, “I’m delighted to see you.”
Her gaze had already found the picture of her father, grandfather and Mayor Gano, and she indicated her father as she said, “Recognize that watch?”
Abrevious smiled a conspiratorial smile.
“After seeing you yesterday,” Moonyene said, looking from the picture of her father to a picture of her mother and herself, “I decided I should come show my appreciation for all this town has been to my family.  It has been our home for a long, long time.”
“There is plenty here to appreciate,” Abrevious said, “And I would love to show you around, but I need to stay with the booth.  Will you and Gwennie be alright?”
She looked at Jasper and said, “Maybe Jasper would be kind enough to show us around.”
“Yeah, can I, Mr. Calhoun?” Jasper asked excitedly.
Word spread quickly throughout the Jubilee that Moonyene Willie was in attendance.  Merchants scrambled to tidy their booths while patrons lined the halls like a parade route in hopes of a glimpse of the mysterious woman.  A few people, all older and distinguished looking, actually greeted Moonyene by name, and shook her hand.
Jasper, of course, had no idea of the notoriety of his new friend.  He took Moonyene’s hand and guided her from booth to booth talking as fast as he could about what was inside each one, unaware of the sensation they were causing. 
Chapter Twenty 
It was almost 6:30 when they finally got the last of the exhibit pieces packed into Abrevious’s car.  I couldn’t help them because there were still people around who might see me, so they’d had to do it themselves.  Jasper did his best to help Abrevious, but he was beginning to wear out, and it had been a long time since he’d had his sandwich.  He was tired and hungry.  
“Would you like to go visit your brother?” Abrevious asked, “Your dad said it would be okay.”
“At the hospital?” Jasper asked.
“Yes, at the hospital.  Don’t you want to?” Abrevious asked.
“The hospital’s boring,” Jasper told him, “And Jeebo can’t talk there, can he?”
“I thought you could hear him at the hospital,” Abrevious said.
“That’s not what I mean,” Jasper said with a little exasperation, “I mean will he have to play doll?”
“Play doll?” Abrevious asked curiously.
I decided to help Jasper out.
“That’s what I do in public, Mr. Calhoun.  I don’t talk or move in front of people, and we call it ‘playing doll’,” I said.
Abrevious thought about his surveillance trip down the aisle of the Jubilee and understood now why he hadn’t seen or heard me.
“Oh, I see,” he said, “Well, Jasper, I think if it’s just your mom, dad, brother, you and me in the hospital room, there’s no reason Jeebo can’t talk to us.  He can play doll if somebody else comes in.  How would that be?”
“Okay, I’ll go, then,” Jasper said.
Newton was sitting up in bed propped up on several pillows watching TV when we walked into the hospital room.  
“Hi, Newton,” Jasper said very timidly, and staring at the bandage on Newton’s head, “That really looks like it hurts.  Does it?”
“Sometimes,” Newton said, “But most of the time I’m asleep anyway.”
Waurika came over and hugged Jasper.
“I haven’t seen you in days, sweetie!” she said, “Did you have fun at the Jubilee?”
Then to Abrevious, she said, “Abrevious, thank you so much.  I don’t know what we would have done without you.”
“Now,” she said to Jasper, “Come and tell us all about the Jubilee.”
“Okay. Can I sign Newton’s head?” he answered.
Orville got up and said, “Abrevious, can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
Abrevious told them all goodnight and followed Orville from the room.  Orville asked about the Jubilee, and Abrevious filled him in on the crowds, the entertainment and the events as they made their way to the cafeteria.  They found a table and sat down with their coffee.  
Orville told Abrevious what the doctors had said today about Newton’s recovery, and how well he was doing, but it was clear there was something else on his mind.
“Orville,” Abrevious said, “Has something happened?  Is something wrong?”
Orville hesitated, then finally said, “I don’t know how to say this, Abrevious.  I am so grateful, and I don’t want to sound otherwise, but I can’t let you do it.”
Abrevious was confused.  
“Do what, Orville?” he said, “What have I done?”
Orville shook his head and said, “You’re a wonderful friend, but this is my family, and I just can’t let you do it.  Thank you, though.”
Abrevious had no idea what he was supposed to have done unless Orville was going to try to pay him for taking care of the Jubilee and Jasper all weekend.  He said, “If you’re talking about the Jubilee, Orville, just forget it right now.  I had an absolute ball visiting with all those people, and Jasper and I have become great friends.  We’ve even got a few secrets now.”  He gave Orville a wink.
Now it was Orville’s turn to be confused.  
“No, I’m not talking about the Jubilee, Abrevious.  Don’t make this more difficult,” he said.
“Make what difficult, Orville?  I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Abrevious said, growing a little agitated.
“You’re paying for all Newton’s medical care, Abrevious!  I can’t let you do that!” Orville blurted out.
“I’m what?” Abrevious exclaimed, “Who told you that?”
Orville said, “The hospital, who else?”
Abrevious tried to understand what was happening, but it didn’t make any sense.
“I’m a retired jeweler,” he said, “I don’t have that kind of money.”
Orville looked completely deflated.
“But they told me it was all taken care of,” he said.
“By me?” Abrevious asked.
“No, actually they said it was anonymous,” Orville said, “That’s why I assumed it had to be you.  Maybe it’s the school.  It did happen during a school play.”
“Maybe,” Abrevious said, but he knew it wasn’t the school.  
That night at home, Abrevious laid his notes out on the kitchen table so he could see them all together.  The answers were here, he knew it, he just had to unravel the clues.  A link between the Driggers, Jeebo, Moonyene and himself, but what was it?  Jeebo had belonged to both Moonyene and the Driggers, but he had belonged to other people who couldn’t see him.  Abrevious himself and Orville had both owned the jewelry store, but Moonyene hadn’t been in the store since Orville owned it.  He had gone to school with Moonyene, but he’d never seen Jeebo until he met Jasper.  In fact Moonyene said that she hadn’t owned Jeebo since she gave him to Momo over seventy years ago.
Then something in his notes caught his attention, and things started to make sense.  He tried to remember something Moonyene had told him some time ago.  But it was too late to call her tonight.  He’d have to test his theory in the morning.  And then he’d have to try to explain it.
Chapter Twenty-one
“You’re going to have to own up to it this time, Moonyene,” Abrevious said.  
He had called Moonyene as soon as he’d gotten up Monday morning.  
“I don’t see why,” she said, “Nobody would have known if you hadn’t been involved.”
He gave her a chuckle.  “None of it would have happened if I hadn’t been involved,” he said, “But I am, and now you’re going to have to ‘fess up.  I’ll pick you up at 10:00.”
Next he called the Driggers’ house.
“Hello, Abrevious,” Orville said, “I thought you’d be sleeping in today.”
Abrevious said, “I wanted to ask a favor, Orville, before you left for the hospital - or the store.”
“Sure,” Orville asked, “We’re heading for the hospital for a visit, then I figure I’ll open the store after lunch.  What do you need?”
“I wondered if I could borrow the exhibit jewelry for a few hours before it goes back up on your wall,” Abrevious said.
“We can bring it by your house on our way,” Orville said.
“Thanks, that would be great,” Abrevious answered, “And could I say hello to Jasper?”
“Hi, Mr. Calhoun,” Jasper said, his mouth full of cereal.
“Hello, Jasper,” Abrevious said, “I want you to tell me something, but I want you to keep it a secret, okay?  Don’t tell your dad I asked.”
“Okay,” Jasper whispered.
“Can you hear Jeebo today?” Abrevious asked.
“Yeah,” Jasper whispered even lower.
“Okay, that’s all I want to know.  I’ll see you later,” Abrevious said.
When Orville and Jasper dropped off the jewelry a little later, Jasper tugged at Abrevious’s hand.  Abrevious bent down to him.
“I didn’t tell him,” Jasper whispered in his ear.
“Good job!” Abrevious whispered back.
“Hello, Gwennie,” Abrevious said, “Did she tell you I was coming?”
“Yes, sir, but she says she’s not going with you,” Gwennie said, smiling at Abrevious.
“I expected that,” he said, “Will you help me coax her into the car?”
“But I need to borrow your phone first,” he added.
Abrevious called Orville at the hospital.  
“Hello, Orville,” he said, “I’d like to come see you while you’re all together, if I can.  I’d like to try to explain some things.”
“What, Abrevious?” Orville asked, “Is this about last night?”
“I’ll explain everything when I get there, but I’d like to speak to Jasper again, if I could” Abrevious said.
“Jasper?” Orville said a little surprised, “Okay.”
“Hi, Mr. Calhoun,” Jasper whispered.
“Hi, Jasper, can you hear Jeebo now?” Abrevious asked.
“Just a minute,” Jasper said.
He bent over me, and whispered for me to say something to him.  When I did, he didn’t hear me.  
“Jasper, what are you doing?” Orville asked, “Is Mr. Calhoun still on the phone?”
“Uh huh,” Jasper said, “I had to ask Jeebo something.”
He returned to the phone and whispered, “No.”
“Thank you, Jasper.  I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Abrevious told him.
“Where, exactly, are you taking me against my will, anyway, Abrevious Calhoun?” Moonyene asked once she was strapped in the car, and they were moving.
“You know exactly where I’m taking you, and why,” he told her.  “I need to ask you something else, though.  Didn’t you tell me that you heard fairly recently that Momo had died?”
“Yes, last fall.  I kept track of her as best I could after she moved,” she answered,  “Word of mouth, you know, but I never heard much more than major events.  Why do you want to know that?”
“Just a hunch I have,” he replied.
Chapter Twenty-two
When Abrevious led Moonyene into Newton’s hospital room, everyone fell silent – everyone except Jasper, that is.
“Hi, Miss Willie!” Jasper said, jumping up to greet her.
“Jasper,” Abrevious said, “Would you move the stuff out of that chair, so Miss Willie can sit down?”
Jasper moved a pile of comic books and books to a corner of the floor, and Abrevious helped Moonyene into the chair.
“I’d like you all to meet Moonyene Willie,” Abrevious said once she was seated, “Moonyene, these are Orville, Waurika and Newton Driggers.  You already know Jasper and Jeebo.”
“This is such an honor, Miss Willie,” Waurika said, shaking her hand.
Orville was right behind her.  “It certainly is,” he said, “But, Abrevious, I don’t understand.”
“That is precisely why we’re here,” Abrevious said, “There are quite a few things that need explaining, and if you will all indulge me, I would like to try.”
“What does indulge mean?” asked Jasper.
“It means if you will listen, I will tell you some things,” Abrevious said.
“Okay,” Jasper said.
“Well,” Abrevious began, “First of all, I want you to know that Moonyene and I both know the truth about Jeebo.”
Orville and Waurika exchanged glances, but didn’t say anything.
“Don’t blame Jasper or Jeebo,” Abrevious continued, “I already had an inkling before I actually saw him moving, and without Jeebo, I might not have figured all this out.”  
“It’s a complicated story, so this is the condensed version,” he said, “It really started back in 1918 when Luckie Breckenridge gave a gold pocket watch to his son-in-law the day his granddaughter was born.  That granddaughter, of course, was Moonyene Willie, and that watch, I believe, became a sort of living symbol of Luckie’s generosity and kindness which is at the core of everything that has happened.”
No one said a word; they just waited for Abrevious to continue.
“A few years later,” he said, “Luckie gave his granddaughter a doll.  This wouldn’t ordinarily be anything unusual since she collected dolls, but this doll was destined to play a special role.”
“Being the daughter of the richest family in town made it hard for Moonyene to make friends, but she did have one very close friend, the granddaughter of her parents’ maid who came to their house with her grandmother.  The girl’s name was Momo, and Momo loved Moonyene’s dolls – especially the doll Moonyene’s grandfather had given her.  The girls played dolls every time they were together, and as Moonyene will tell you, Momo always played with the same doll.  And Moonyene’s father let them use the pocket watch that Luckie had given him as part of their games, too.”
He continued, “When Momo’s grandmother got sick a few years later, and was unable to continue working, sadly, Moonyene’s mother would not allow her to invite Momo over to play any more.  So Moonyene, born with her grandfather’s kind heart and generosity, but also stubborn and strong-willed, and angry with her mother, decided she wanted to give a special Christmas present to her best friend.  The special gift was the doll Luckie had given her, and that Momo had loved best.  
He paused for a moment.
“That doll was Jeebo – or Lucky W., as he was known then,” he said finally.   “Moonyene knew she would likely never see either Momo or Lucky W. again, and she wanted them both to remember their friendship.”
The entire room looked at me.  I looked at Abrevious.
“Many years later, when Moonyene’s mother died, leaving Moonyene the entire Willie estate,” he said, “She brought some pieces of jewelry to the store for cleaning - her father’s pocket watch and a cameo brooch of her mother’s.  That was back when Moody was still running the store, and after they were cleaned, he put the pieces in our safe until Moonyene picked them up.  But with everything going on, Moonyene forgot to pick them up, and they stayed in the store safe for more than thirty years.”
“…When Orville found them.  So we somehow ended up with both Moonyene’s jewelry and her doll?” Waurika asked in disbelief, “That’s incredible!”
“Exactly,” Abrevious said, “Now everything I’ve told you so far is fact.  The other facts that we know are that you found the jewelry in the store safe and have kept it at your house, and that Newton, here, won Jeebo at the Harvest Festival at school last fall, and ever since then you have been able to hear and see Jeebo.  From here on, most of what I’m going to say is speculation, but, thanks to the Jubilee, there have been a lot of clues and reminders around.”
“How did you find out Jeebo used to belong to Moonyene?” Waurika asked.
“Jeebo?” Abrevious said to me.
Surprisingly, when I stood up to walk over to Waurika, everyone could see me, which they had not been able to just a little while earlier.  I sat down on the floor and showed Waurika the bottom of my left foot.
Abrevious said, “Do you see the mark on his foot?”
“The same mark that’s on the watch and the brooch!” she exclaimed, “I’ve never noticed it there before.”
“I knew he was very old when I first saw him,” Abrevious said, “I was just looking him over out of curiosity when I saw the mark.”
“But what’s your speculation, Abrevious?” Orville asked.
Abrevious said, “Jasper, when I called you at home this morning and asked you if you could hear Jeebo, could you?”
“Uh huh,” Jasper said.
“Say ‘yes, sir’, Jasper,” Waurika said.
“Yes, sir,” Jasper repeated.
“When I called you here at the hospital and asked if you could hear Jeebo then, could you?” Abrevious asked.
“No, sir,” Jasper said, giving Waurika a proud look.
“When Jasper told me that sometimes you can hear Jeebo, and sometimes you can’t,” Abrevious said, “And how it had begun to change in recent weeks, I tried to find the reason, something that was linked to Jeebo in some way that would cause him to only be ‘alive’ in certain situations.”
“And you figured it out?” Waurika asked.
“I think so.  I believe that as long as Jeebo and the jewelry are in the same location, Jeebo can be heard,” he said, “I borrowed the jewelry this morning to prove my theory.  While the jewelry was at home with Jeebo this morning, he could be heard.  After I borrowed the jewelry, and you came to the hospital, Jeebo couldn’t be heard.  But now I have brought the jewelry to the hospital, and Jeebo can be heard again.”
He held up the jewelry box in his hand.
“If you look at the instances when Jeebo couldn’t be heard, the jewelry was always somewhere else, and when the jewelry started moving around from home to the Jubilee, to my house, etc., Jeebo’s ‘behavior’ became more erratic.”
“So for all those years that the jewelry was in your safe, and Jeebo was bouncing from place to place…,” Orville said.
“Just the watch, I suspect,” Abrevious said, glancing at Moonyene, “But, yes.”
Moonyene nodded her agreement.
He went on, “I know all of this takes a huge leap of faith…”
“As if a walking, talking doll didn’t anyway?” Orville said with a laugh.
We all laughed at that.
“But this part,” Abrevious said, “Might take an even bigger one.  I don’t think all of this happened by sheer coincidence.  Moonyene mentioned to me that she had received word that Momo had passed away last fall – just about the time of the Harvest Festival at school.  I believe that Momo’s death left an emptiness where Moonyene’s friendship and goodwill had been passed through Jeebo, and Jeebo was intentionally reunited with the watch in order for Moonyene to find a new friend to bestow her kindness on.  And that friend is your family.”
“What are you saying, Abrevious?” Orville asked cautiously.
“Moonyene?” Abrevious said, looking at her.
Moonyene cleared her throat and shifted in her chair, looking extremely uncomfortable.
“When Abrevious first showed me the watch and brooch, and told me where they had been and what good care you had taken of them,” she said, “I felt an immediate connection to you.  That watch meant a great deal to me, and the thought of someone protecting it as you have made me very happy.”
“He told me about Newton’s accident and how worried you all were, and I felt like it was my own family,” she continued, “Then he brought Jasper and Jeebo over to meet me, and when I saw Jeebo I understood that it was Momo showing me what I should do.”
“You are the anonymous person who is paying for Newton’s care,” Orville said softly.
Moonyene nodded.
Chapter Twenty-three
“Dinner is served,” I announced as I carried the asparagus to the table.  
Newton had been home from the hospital for two weeks and was doing so well that Orville and Waurika had accepted Moonyene’s invitation to her house for dinner.  I was helping Gwennie serve dinner, reacquainting myself with the kitchen I remembered.
Moonyene had given us a tour of the entire house when we arrived, and I immediately recognized the room where the other dolls and I had lived, and Moonyene’s childhood library where she and Momo usually played.  Other parts of the house seemed vaguely familiar, and I hoped that eventually those memories would return, too, but for now I couldn’t positively identify them.
I took my seat at the table between Moonyene and Jasper and Jasper passed me a bowl of potatoes.
“Abrevious, has your research turned up anything?” Moonyene asked.
Abrevious had taken it upon himself to try to fill in the blanks about my whereabouts for the last seventy years.  He spent countless hours at the library reading old newspapers, and going from church to church checking old records of rummage sales and charity drives.  
My memories still had holes in them, but between us we had accounted for all but fifteen years, give or take a year.
“Well,” he said, “I did find out that it was 1937 when Momo’s family moved to Alabama.”
“I wasn’t sure what year that was,” Moonyene said.
“I don’t think Momo would have let go of Jeebo – or Lucky W. – voluntarily, so it makes sense that somehow he was left behind accidentally when they moved.  Maybe ended up in a box of things to be given away rather than one to be kept.”
“And I remember from 1952 to now,” I said, “At least most of it.”
“That only leaves fifteen years unaccounted for,” Waurika said, sounding impressed, “1937 to 1952.”
Since the Jubilee, we had seen a great deal of both Abrevious and Moonyene.  They had become, as Moonyene said, almost family.  When Abrevious wasn’t doing research at the library or a church, he could still be found playing checkers at the barbershop, or bingo at the American Legion Hall, or volunteering at the Boys’ Club, but he stopped by the jewelry store more often than he ever had before, occasionally helping Orville out, but mostly just to be part of it again, I think.
Sometimes he would come by and pick up Jasper and me and take us out to eat or to get ice cream or over to visit Moonyene.  Moonyene still chose not to leave her house, but we became some of her frequent visitors, and she always had snacks for us to eat, sort of our own teatime, and she had amazing stories to tell about the past.  Many times she and Abrevious would tell stories together, and it was almost as though we lived during the time they were talking about.  I’m sure Jasper and Newton learned more from their stories than they ever could in school.
“It’s possible that you belonged to the Claremores before 1952,” Abrevious was saying to me, “And you just haven’t remembered it yet.  So we might be missing less than fifteen years.”
“Or maybe we’ll never know,” Moonyene said.  
She gave Abrevious a sideways glance, and patted my arm.
“Some things are meant to remain mysteries,” she said.
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kariachi · 8 years ago
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@mellenabrave
Fic for that idea I tossed out
Argi is fourteen when he overhears his mother telling to woman next door that the only one of the triplets who isn’t in prison isn’t going to college. That none of her children are, they aren’t smart enough.
He’s always gotten good grades, and with so little food spread between his siblings spite is about all that fuels him, so it surprises no one when he swears to prove her wrong.
~~
At sixteen his entire year goes to what’s essentially a college fair, where school upon school has set up booths for the sake of young high school students. Argi makes sure to get information from all of them to browse later. He also looks into every scholarship he could possibly qualify for.
He spends four months putting every spare minute into research and applications. His mother scoffs, the young twins watch with interest- he makes sure to encourage them, as much for spite and love- and the rest of his siblings roll their eyes. Nobody thinks it’ll work, but they’ll allow themselves to be amused by his failure. He doesn’t let it get to him. He’s going places, whether they want him to or not.
~~
Dear Argiñe,
Congratulations on your acceptance into the College of Arts & Sciences at Cornell University!
He makes sure to go to the Library and make ten copies, one for each of his family members, before he rubs his success in their faces.
“And how do you plan on paying for Ivy League, Princess,” Maria asks, and Argi just grins nastily at her.
“I’m selling you all to the mafia.”
~~
He doesn’t sell them all to the mafia, and really his scholarship money and financial aid will cover the costs, but he does hock all his mother’s jewelry to pay the admissions fee.
What’s she going to do, report her stolen goods stolen?
~~
The first person Argi meets turns out to be his roommate. Kevin Levin, a boy a year younger than him who also doesn’t know what he’s going to major in and feels his family can go fuck themselves.
“Honestly,” he says as he mucks about with their beds that first afternoon, somehow procuring wood posts and turning them each into top bunks so they have more floor space, “I only decided to go to college out of spite.”
Within four days he is not only Argi’s first friend, but his first love.
~~
Intro to LGBT Studies also introduces him to a redhead, who sits right beside him in the front row. By the end of class she’s started bookmarking her textbook in relation to the syllabus and Argi has borrowed and chewed half apart one of her pencils.
They are immediate nemeses.
~~
Her name is Gwendolyn and three days later she makes a move on Kevin while they’re all eating lunch. Argi knocks her upside the head with a folder.
Kai, from Kevin’s Intro to Native American Lit course, just about doubles over laughing.
Kevin swears they’re all the worst friends he’s ever had.
~~
The food in the cafeteria is good, but some days they can’t help but yearn for something more. Traditional dishes. Homecooked meals. Argi and the girls often curse the “one appliance per dorm” rule.
Thankfully Kevin works miracles with a rice cooker.
~~
“What do you mean you don’t have to take language classes?!”
“Red, I’m from Spain. They’re not gonna force me to learn another language. Now just show me where you’re getting mixed up. Refuse to let you guys suck at this.”
~~
Gwendolyn went home for Thanksgiving, but the boys and Kai agree to skip the holiday altogether. Instead, Kevin takes over the common room and commandeers everyone’s appliances to fix up a Black Friday feast to shake souls.
“Fuck ‘em all, may they be trampled in their quest for a second rate plasma screen.”
~~
“I’m gonna call that a call to immortality.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
~~
They skype over winter break, while the girls visit home and the boys apartment-sit for a graduate student. It’s relaxing, for the most part. Argi is forced to study by the fact that Gwendolyn is still studying, and they’re all dying of envy at all the places Kai’s grandfather is taking her, but for the most part it’s songs over the holidays (Argi teaches them Venid Pastorcitos and Kai is still humming it come February) and everybody sending each other food.
Exactly the sort’ve tradition Argi can sink his teeth into.
~~
GwennyWeatherwax: I found this site, apparently if you send in a dna sample they’ll figure out where your ancestors were from for you
keV: yeah and then they use it to make their evil half-dinosaur clone army, i’ve seen *this* movie before
GwennyWeatherwax: Geez, you try to help your friends…
Wifwolf: We already know what Kev is, G. Half-Oneida, half purely driven snow
keV: think the only thing me and dad have in common is hoping mom got a serious hangover from that bender…
Wifwolf: Im just amazed she thawed out in time to have you
keV: oh she didn’t
GwennyWeatherwax: Okay, okay, enough about Kev’s mom’s pussy please!
Erizo: if i hear one more joke about kevs moms pussy-
Erizo: would be nice to be something other than ‘brown’ tho
keV: how much?
GwennyWeatherwax: $100
GwennyWeatherwax: Each
Erizo: on the other hand brown is an awesome color
keV: yep
Wifwolf: We’ll put it on the ‘once we have cash to blow’ pile
~~
They all sign up for physical education courses in their second semester, just to get them over with. Everyone is surprised when Gwendolyn ‘Beanpole’ Tennyson signs up for one of the martial arts courses and is immediately put into an advanced class. Kevin goes for what is apparently military bootcamp in an academic setting, because he isn’t already 6’2 and 200 lbs. of pure muscle.
Argi and Kai take Trap & Skeet together. At least this way if the others start shit they’ll have weapon proficiency on their side.
~~
“Kevin, we are not taking cooking classes.”
“I cannot be the only person here who cooks!”
“Yes, yes you can. Forever.”
~~
“Seriously, get a room or get boyfriends, because if you keep fighting like this people are going to get ideas.”
“Ewww!!”
“Kai no!!”
~~
Finals week is hell, no matter what, but they all pass their courses. They all survive their courses, and each other, despite the odds against them. Yes, Argi and Gwendolyn aren’t allowed back in the Library until they’re 80, but overall their first year has been a success.
They’re all sitting in a booth at a pizza place in town, one Kevin has been raving about since the start of the year and none of them have had the chance to go to, celebrating their collective victory, when Argi motions them all together for a selfie. Everyone seems to understand what’s happening, crowding around him, arms over his shoulders. Kevin even pulls him into his lap, smirking as Argi goes red and the photo is taken. They all grin at him as he gives the image a once over before saving it.
He makes sure his baby sisters still have him friended before he puts it out on Facebook.
“Twenty bucks says I’m not the last Bustillo to go to school.”
“None of us are stupid enough to take that.”
“Damn.”
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bunvoyagesarah · 5 years ago
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Myanmar
Me-and-mom trip
Wednesday, January 29 I arrived in Yangon, Myanmar around 6pm and met mom at the airport. She had been there for a little bit so had already picked up cash and sim cards for us.  Then we took a Grab to our hotel, Hotel Lavender, near Shwedagon pagoda. There was a rooftop dining area and bar, so we enjoyed a beer there, as well as the free (!) beer from our room’s mini-fridge to see the beautiful view of the pagoda.  Then we went to dinner down the road, at AKS. We had chicken stir-fry, fried cauliflower, and Aung Kaung San Soup. After dinner we took a walk down the main road.  
Thursday, January 30 In the morning, we had breakfast at our hotel, which consisted of soup and noodles.  We got up pretty early to walk around the Shwedagon Pagoda, which was right around the corner.  It was massive and covered in gold. We took lots of pictures, and even had some random people ask to take pictures with us.  I had to rent a very pink wrap, as my pants were too tight, despite them covering my knees and already having my shoulders covered, this was another rule they enforced.
Then we walked to Bogyoke Aung San Market. I found some looser fitting, breathable capri pants would serve to be very useful during the rest of my time in Asia.  I also got some flip-flops.  Both items were about $6 total. I had no idea that I would be in Asia, so everything in my bag was winter clothing along with some t-shirts that I could layer. These items were definitely necessary, and thankfully also very lightweight.
Next, we went to the mall across the street, where mom got some more money, we checked out a grocery store, and then enjoyed some of their traditional Burmese tea. We walked back to the hotel and grabbed our bags before the check-out time and then got another grab to the airport. We went to the wrong terminal, but luckily there was a free shuttle to the Domestic terminal. And then we couldn���t even check in because they only check-in the next departing flight at a time, which in my opinion is extremely smart and allows the people to get to where they need to go in a “first in, first out” type of deal.
We arrive at He Ho Airport and then drive to Kalaw.  Unfortunately, there’s no Grab here and all the drivers are buddies, so once one quotes you a price, they’ll all quote you the same price. We arrived at Hillock Villa, an eco-friendly B&B and then went for dinner in the town at Gloria’s, which consisted of spring rolls and “pad-thai”.  
We were both craving ice cream after dinner and went on a search for anything similar to a Magnum bar.  After asking around with no success, we gave up.  But then, it one final effort, we went into a store and sure enough they had an ice cream bar.  We got one to share, but mostly to test if it was good.  It was terrible.  Possibly the worst ice cream I’ve ever had.  We didn’t even finish the one ice cream bar between the two of us, instead we watched the 50 cent ice cream bar melt down the drain of our sink.  
Back in the room, we backed our small backpacks with everything we would need for the next day’s trek.  
Friday, January 31 Mom and I started the day with breakfast this eco b&b where we were staying, which mom thought was great, and I thought was just ok.  The van from the trekking company, picked us up from our b&b, along with a German couple in their 30’s and we drove to the office, where we picked up another German couple in their 20’s, and our big bags were dropped off and were to be delivered to our hotel in Inle Lake. 
We drove about thirty minutes, and then everyone got out and we started our trek with our guide, Yelay.  We went through a couple villages, saw them weaving baskets out of bamboo. We stopped for a delicious lunch of noodles and this amazing avocado salad. Yelay helped us make some “sunscreen”  out of one local tree’s bark and then made into a paste with water.  Then we continued on our way.  
We stopped again as we passed this old woman’s home.  She had us in for green tea and snacks- fried rice paper and nuts. Then the guys played some soccer with the kids that had just gotten out of school.  Mom and I checked out the monastery that was right by the soccer field. By this point, the younger German guy had hurt his ankle so bad during our walk that he couldn’t walk anymore and someone took him on a scooter to the home where we were spending the night.   Once the soccer game finished, we continued on our walk.  Around 5:30pm we arrived at the home, where Yelay than proceeded to show us the outhouse, and shower, with no running water, let alone warm water.  No one showered.  We hung out outside, enjoying a couple local beers until dinner was ready inside, prepared by the chef that was following the same route as us but often behind or ahead of us.  Dinner was excellent with peanut curry, lots of different veggies, and roasted chicken. One of the cats came over, jumped on the table and took a giant bite of chicken.  The cats had clearly been fed before. After a long dinner, and chatting, Yelay came back to tell us the plan for the next day and we all went to bed upstairs, on mattresses on the floor, in little 2-person mosquito tents.  
As much as I tried to avoid having to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night in an squatty-potty outhouse with no toilet paper, I didn’t even make it until 12am without having to pee.  So I woke up, unzipped my tent, went downstairs, went through the now bolted door, slid open this gate on the porch that wasn’t there earlier, and around the corner to the outhouse.  Just as I closed the gate behind me, which I am assuming was to keep the stray dogs off the porch, Mom came up behind me.  We both went pee, then retraced our footsteps back into the house.  Quite a nightly adventure!
Saturday, February 1 We woke up at 7am and all got dressed and then went downstairs for breakfast.  We had tortilla pancakes with an eggplant curry and lots of fruit.  The curry was especially good, even though I wouldn’t have normally eaten it at 7:15 in the morning.  
Then we set off on our trek. It was a lot more uphill and then a lot of downhill into Inle Lake.  We walked through a village that had a yearly ceremony going on for the monks.  In Myanmar, all males have to be a monk twice in their life, each for a least 10 days and one of the times before you are 18. Yelay’s parents decided when he was about 10 years old he would be a monk.  He said he remembered stealing food for the kitchen every night, since he was supposed to fast after noon. He had not yet done it a second time.  He currently is a guide and also works on his family’s chicken farm with about 400 chickens and then goes around and sells them based on their weight.
There was so much pollution but Yelay pointed out as we were coming down the hill that we could see Inle Lake.  We walked along this canal for a while and were all quite quiet.  At one point when I was right behind Yelay, he turned around quickly and yelled “Boo!” I wasn’t expecting it at all and it did give me a fright!  
After we walked for the majority of the morning with another short stop along a canal, we arrived at a fishing village on Inle Lake. This was where we all ate lunch, with these animals carved into fruit.  Then the older German couple got into one boat to go to their hotel on the lake and the rest of us got into motorized long boat with Yelay and went to town, where our hotels were. The boat ride into the town was vey cool with lots of house on stilts in the fishing village.
We got dropped off right beside our hotel and sure enough our bags had arrived there, so after a welcome drink and a well-deserved shower, we relaxed for a little bit. Then we went out for dinner to get some dim sum.  Along the way, we found a woman offering her son’s services for a boat tour the next day and checked out getting some massages.  
Sunday, February 2 The woman met us right by our hotel and we met her son.  The boat’s motor was very noisy, so not much talking on the boat.  He took us around the lake stopping at all these different villages.  The first stop was at the lotus and silk weaving, where a woman took us around showing how the thread is made and then into a room with dozens of loom, and then finally into the shop where you can purchase anything made of silk, lotus, or cotton that your heart desires.  This trend of showing you how it’s made, and then going through the shop continued the rest of the morning at the cigar making (my favorite), boat carving, long-neck ladies, silver jewelry, and paper making. We also went into the cat jumping monastery and pagoda, where there was no one trying to sell us anything. We could have taken up to eight hours with our boat driver, but since we didn’t shop too much, we were done in four.  
When we arrived back in town, we did some scoping out of massage places and had barbecue fish for lunch. The place we went to for the massages, was one room with a divider in the middle and two tables. While people on one side of the divider were getting their nails done, we were both naked getting a full body massage. I did not enjoy the massage very much, as it felt like she was ripping my hair out at one point, but it was $6 each for an hour massage, so definitely the best value I think I’ll have ever.  
We both showered all the oil off and went to a rooftop bar, which happened to be a hostel’s happy hour bar.  We watched a mediocre sunset with clouds and smog and then walked to a pancake/crepe place for a crepe and “milkshake” dinner.  
Monday, February 3 In the morning, we were picked up for horseback riding around Inle Lake.  First, the woman and owner of Inle Horse Club took us around a market just for fun. It was cool to see all the spices, meats, and produce, especially in the height of the market.  It was crowded! Then we drove up to the horse club and were the only ones there.  She gave us a little spiel about the environmental work she’s doing, for example composting the manure which she then received a grant from England for doing.  
Then we got on our horses and walked around the ring a little.  It was a little challenging with the horses difficult to keep separate and a pretty uncomfortable seat, but the views were amazing.  We made a stop at the caves, where lots of Buddhas were hidden inside. Then we made a stop for lunch at a restaurant, which was excellent. Finally, we cantered into a winery for a wine tasting at Red Mountain Estate.  The sauvignon blanc was especially sweet and surprisingly my favorite of the four (two whites, two reds) that we tastes. Finally, we rode back to the horseback riding center. We received some juice and our certificates and then driven back to our hotel.  
In the evening, we caught an overnight bus to Bagan, which left Inle Lake around 8pm. We bought a couple snacks for the journey and also made a dinner stop around 9pm at a rest stop.  The seat were pretty comfy as they reclined quite far and had foot rests.  
Tuesday, February 4 At 3:30am, not 6am, like we were suppose to, we arrived in Bagan.  We fought with a cab driver to drive us and another German girl that we had become friendly with to our respective hotel/hostels. When we arrived to our hotel it was almost 4am and we had decided to just pay for another night, so we could go to sleep.  Side note: the bus ride was the bumpiest ride I’ve ever been on and very little sleep took place. After talking to the receptionist, he said we could check-in at 7am for $20, which we got him to agree to 6am. Then we were trying to decide what to do until then, he mentioned getting e-bikes to watch the sunrise. After the e-bikes arrived and the guy was not going to give us a very fair price, we decided to go back into the reception and just have a cup of tea and wait another 45 minutes until we could check in. We fell fast asleep once we got into the room and slept until noon.
We walked to get lunch nearby, and then looked at a couple e-bikes, which is when Mom realized they were electric scooters and not bicycles. Instead of renting two, we shared one and ended up getting it from the hotel. We drove around to the different pagodas and stupas.  We went out to the jetty for the sunset, which was a very nice place to watch the sunset as there were not very many people there. I got some sugar cane juice from a place while we were there.  On the way back to the hotel, we found an ice cream spot—finally!!
Wednesday, February 5 We woke up extremely early for the sunrise by hot air balloon! The company, Golden Eagle picked us and some other people up from the hotel.  The girl we had met on the bus also happened to be on our shuttle.  When we arrived at the field, they had tables and chairs set up with some tea and coffee and croissants.  Our guide, JP met us and explained how the day would go.  We had 10 people plus JP in our hot air balloon. It was definitely very cool to see all the other balloons in the air, to see the stupas from above (100s of them), and of course see the sunrise. When we landed we were served more cakes, fruit, and champagne.  
We learned some of the science and maneuvering of the hot air balloon.  Like it’s a 315,000 cubic feet of volume inside and JP carried 80 gallons of propane for fuel. The balloon is made of nylon and nomex so it won’t catch on fire. There were six companies you could fly with in Myanmar, and each of them were allowed about six balloons in the air at a time.  Myanmar is a very calm, predictable place to fly.  Also, JP has a pilot’s license and degree in meteorology. 
JP told us the history of drinking champagne upon landing, which is because the first successful manning of a hot air balloon landed in an farmer’s field in the 1780’s.  Having never seen anything fly before, the owners thought these people were crazy and the balloon was some sort of dragon. The people in the balloon offered the farmers some of the Royal champagne they had been given upon their farewell as a peace offering and apology for disturbing the animals. The farmers accepted the bubbly and a tradition was born.  
After enjoying a more substantial breakfast back at the hotel, we sat by the pool to rest, nap, and read. Later in the afternoon, we walked to Nightingale Foods for a cooking class with Mae.  There was another Irish couple that was my age joining us and they were both teaching in China, but currently on their “corona holidays.” Little did we know what the world would turn into two months later. We made four stir-fries/curries and four salads.  My favorite dishes were the tamarind tea leaf salad, pork curry, and tamarind, peanut, garlic paste as add-ons to the other dishes.  
Thursday, February 6 I was very gassy on the way home from the cooking class. And my stomach was making lots of sounds.  In the middle of the night I threw up this delicious meal we had just made.  Mom was surprisingly fine with her stomach.  In the morning, I threw up again and had no appetite as well as feeling very weak.  Luckily, I could rest until check-out and then we went to the airport to fly back to Yangon—this was also lucky because we had considered another overnight bus, but decided not to have the first one had been quite miserable with the bumpy roads.
By the time dinner time arrived, I still did not have much of an appetite. We hung out at the hotel and then went on a walk, which was a bit of struggle for me.  We found a ramen place and also ordered some dumplings.  We walked back through Chinatown, along 19th St. We looked for a place to get our nails done but they were all gel nail salons, so ending up going back to the hotel for a movie.    
Friday, February 7 I was finally feeling a little hungry.  We had breakfast at the hotel, checked-out, but left our bags there. We did a self-guided walking tour around Yangon. By early afternoon, it was quite hot and were getting hungry.  We stopped at the famous Rangoon Tea House.  We had a lot of time to kill, so we spent 2.5 hours there, ordering each dish separately and taking our time between each one.  We got duck empanadas, fried squid, soft shell crab bao (the best!!!!), chocolate samosas, and Burmese tea.  On the way back we stopped in this cool store next to the tea house and spent some time perusing. We went back to the hotel and were able to sit in the dining area for an hour with our computers before we left for the airport. I flew to Bangkok and Mom flew back to Dubai.  
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thatweirdmod · 5 years ago
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Beriphitar’s Pillage 2: Slow and Steady and the Journal
I've been traveling north for three days now, stopping in mid-tier motels when my ass can't take riding on the scooter with four bags anymore. They're places nice enough that I can expect clean rooms and a pleasant stay, but not so fancy that my paying in cash draws too much suspicion.
I pull into the parking lot of a Motto Locco (decent franchise with a stupid name) and get off Trusty Rusty. It's drizzling rain. I go under the porch cover of the motel, drop the bags on the ground, the straps of which have been digging the fuck into my shoulders by the way, and light up a cigarette.
I'm planning to buy a car, but I've been trying to put as much distance between me and my old town before starting up a money trail, just in case I left behind evidence, and I need to be elusive. Another reason is that I don't think I have enough money in my bank account to buy a car worth a shit at the moment.
I have a feeling eyes have been staring into the distance after me ever since I skipped town. So, I don't want to make a large deposit of money into my bank account, considering that the lawmen know the Greyhorns were robbed. Buying a car with thousands of bucks of cold hard cash may be even more suspicious. So, I made a relatively modest deposit of money into my account yesterday, about $300.
As much as I'd like to get my money in safe storage, and this heavy bag off my shoulder soon, I will continue to trickle money into my account about once a week. Selling the gold bars under the table has also been on my mind. Some people say you should invest in gold, as a type of security in case the value of un-backed federal currency plummits or something.
I don't really give a shit about that, because even if I could shave some gold leaf off the blocks, the convenience store probably wouldn't take that as payment for my Pringles. The gold is heavy, but I don't want to deposit it in the bank, because that would be unusual activity for me-  a red flag for any gumshoe poking around. I've also yet to sell the various other valuables, like jewelry, that I stole from the Greyhorns' house. It's in part because of the whole trail thing, but it's become procrastination now. Tomorrow for sure I'll visit a pawn shop to sell a watch and necklace.
Once I've sucked all the death from the cigarette into my body, I throw the stub out into the rain and head inside. The employee at the counter helps me check in. She's slightly chubby, forty-ish, with curly, short brown hair. She's not ugly, but something about her face just pisses me off. She seems like she'd be a bitch, but I can't decide exactly what kind.
Maybe the kind that talks snidely behind your back? Ah, but there's more to her than that. Nags her husband if she has one? We're getting there. Smiles politely, but has a slight disapproving crinkle in her nose because you stink of smoke? Ooosh, close to home. Will frown as soon as I turn my back to go upstairs? Another nail in the coffin. Watches me fumble a bit with my bags, and wonders nosily and disgustedly at why I have so many? Wow, I'm on a roll.
I realize as I retreat into my room that I'm the bitch, assuming all that, and judging that woman that way. The room has a TV, of course, but TV is like 1/3 ads, 1/3 boring bullshit, and 1/3 things of moderate interest. I consider sleeping to kill my boredom, but I remember that I have Reyfon's diary in one of my bags.
I sit and open it.
"Uncle Freido told me to pull down my shorts... He called it, 'touching trunks like the elephants do," but I'd only ever seen water spray from an elephant's trunk. It hurt a lot when he touched his trunk at the back. Uncle F didn't have a name for that, the fucker."
Pretty juicy stuff. It's sounding like I may have done him a favor, putting the damaged bastard out of his misery. I flip a few more pages.
"I can't explain exactly why I do this. I know I can't excuse it. I'm just propelled. I seek them out. I lure them with sweets, toys, and gifts. I make them feel safe with smiles and a caring, gentle tone. I know how special it can be for a child when a grown up listens, tries to understand, expresses pride in them and treats them like a competent human being. I give them attention. I give them respect. I take their side. And I know to pick the ones whose parents leave voids that I can fill.
In my head, I know it's vile. I know it's a betrayal. I don't understand why my heart doesn't react, doesn't care.
I have predator's eyes. They see all too well how weak, how pathetic the children are. Sometimes, I consider doing the right thing, actually using my position to give them the help and support they need, but I have the stomach of a predator as well. And when I see prey, it rumbles so badly that I must devour."
It doesn't take a genius to see where this is going. There's a "No Smoking" sign in the motel room, but I light up a cigarette anyway. I blow smoke onto the pages. I skim though the records of Reyfon's deeds.
"I don't want to go back to a grown woman now. Little boys and girls are so much tighter... child screamed... leaking blood... asked if I would watch her son for a while... smirked... I took her down to the basement, and... trusted me... touched them so much... bruises... forced him to...
There are coloured pencil drawings of children, unclothed with splayed legs, objects or toys inserted. Some are crying. Some appear to be in strained pleasure. I wonder if Reyfon made them pose while he sketched up these shitty portraits?
"It's an addiction, but I just won't stop. I know some people must suspect something after all this, but no one says anything. Little Brith's mom looked at me strangely the other day. He's come around for a generous handout of candy for the past four Halloweens, but not this one."
I skip along to his latest entry, which was made just five days before I killed him. His aunt, uncle, and their three children came to visit. They wanted to go see his dying father in the hospital, and support their family. He explains how this was a monkey wrench in his plans. He had planned to ask me to kill his brother the day before he found out that they were going to be coming. During their stay, he got the middle child, a girl of six, alone. In his rage over the interruption, he raped and molested the child even more violently than he would normally, a sort of revenge against her parents I guess. He wrote,
"I heard her crying when she was in the bathroom, thankfully before anyone else. I questioned her about it, and she said it really hurt. I told her to be quiet and not to tell anyone that she was having trouble going to the bathroom. Her parents might take her to the hospital, and then it'd be obvious that the girl had gone through sexual trauma.
I said if she made noise again, or told anyone about the pain when peeing and pooping and the things we did together, I'd kill her. I showed her the gun I'd shoot her with, pointed it at her little blonde head, and said, 'Bang.' I was angry at the time, so I used a heavier hand than usual.
I told her I'd have to punish her for making noise, and she cried and begged me not to. I told her to be quiet, pulled down her skirt and panties, and spanked her for disobedience. I started off doing this for a practical reason, but it roused my trunk. I had another session with her right then. I spanked her again afterwards because she cried the whole time. Thankfully, the house is big with good insulation.
I hadn't done enough harm to my aunt and uncle yet though, so I molested their 3 year old son as well. I knew I couldn't ruin his rump like I wanted to though, because he wouldn't have enough self control to hide the pain even if I did threaten him. I bet Kinsey would have liked the details of that, but he already knew that young boys can achieve climax. Their oldest was 10, which is still within my preferred age range, but that girl seemed too smart and strong willed. I didn't want her badly enough to deal with killing her and hiding the body afterwards."
I think I've read enough, at least for now. I'm not going to lie; I'm disgusted. I've done too much myself to be the good guy, and I'm no vigilante, but I'm glad I bashed Reyfon's head in. I walk out into the balcony where I should have been, and throw the cig down onto the dark pavement below. A man in a beige coat down in the lot sees me do this, and that looks suspiciously like judgement on his face. I give him the finger, and turn to walk back in before I have to see his stupid reaction. I crash on the bed without a shower or anything, and just plan to sleep until I wake naturally.
I open my eyes refreshed. I get ready in the bathroom- shower, shave, brush the hair, teeth cleaning, piss, jeans and t-shirt under a grey, white-stringed hoodie. I get my stuff and go down to check out. It's a young woman across the counter this time. Brown hair in a ponytail, ignorant face, maybe she's a student.
I look around. The place is vacant, and this is a small, backwater type town. She's looking down doing one thing or another for me, and I'm looking at her, wondering if I've got five minutes to strangle her.
I vault over the counter and clothesline her in the neck before she can say, "What?!" I slip behind her with my arm hooked around her throat and back up into the wall. She's kicking and grunting in a panic. I can tell she's trying to hit my balls, but she's having a hard time in this position. Mostly what she's managing to do is grind her ass into my crotch, which is giving me a hard-on.
It's soft curves fighting hopelessly against labor hardened muscle. I feel her getting weaker in my unyielding, boa-like grip. A good 60 years of life leave her body with her final exhale. I sigh and drop her down onto the rough carpet.
"Sir?" an unsure, youthful voice asks me.
"Oh yeah, sorry," I respond. The only thing that was real of all that is my straining erection. Of course I couldn't do something so reckless and stupid, but at least I can imagine.
I walk out to greet the morning. The day is sunny and crisp. I take a four minute ride over to the pawn shop that I found in the motel phonebook. The owner's sunken eyes give me what I think is a knowing, slightly wary look from under his heavy white eyebrows. He has a mustache to match, and the thin lips hidden underneath are set in a frown.
He takes the jewelry anyway, though. If he's going to give service, maybe he should give it with a smile so people feel more comfortable coming back. I only get $90 for what I believe was very fine jewelry. Whatever, asshole. It's on to another day of riding away for me.
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alisonwachlarz · 7 years ago
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New Post has been published on https://easymakemoney.club/best-ways-to-make-money-when-young/
best ways to make money when young
You make way more money in your music career when your income streams are diversified, tera took her training and crafted a gentle yoga practice for those who are walking the path back to wellness people like me and maybe like you.
Smart Passive Income 10 Top Tips From Expert Pat Flynn, and definitely looks a lot better. I like these sites so much better than the all survey sites, countless internet scams have capitalized on this confusion by promising enormous returns in a short period of time.
000 per month with their free apps, and only if your current project is not showing any signs of success. This might be a dumb question, though teaching for them is more akin to a regular teaching job just taken online.
best ways to make money when young
How can i earn money, then I forced my self to read and understand this stuff which was very very soul shaking. I did it via PayPal, what would you do if you thought you had enough.
Thats probably one of the biggest reasons why so many people dont succeed at making money online and even more so why it gets a bad rep, he wanted me to use his iPhone to take a picture of him walking to his car with a shopping bag in his hands.
You could get 10 off or more for things like making good grades, if you are skilled at making jewelry you can create pieces to sell at craft fairs. But show it to them with a smile and it ought to work, but try to hit around 200 to allow maximum exposure.
Work at Home Mom Revolution publishes fresh home-based job leads daily, i found myself asking. Comic shops all gone, sweet Spring Wooden figurine.
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1967cougar · 7 years ago
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New Post has been published on https://easymakemoney.club/best-ways-to-make-money-when-young/
best ways to make money when young
You make way more money in your music career when your income streams are diversified, tera took her training and crafted a gentle yoga practice for those who are walking the path back to wellness people like me and maybe like you.
Smart Passive Income 10 Top Tips From Expert Pat Flynn, and definitely looks a lot better. I like these sites so much better than the all survey sites, countless internet scams have capitalized on this confusion by promising enormous returns in a short period of time.
000 per month with their free apps, and only if your current project is not showing any signs of success. This might be a dumb question, though teaching for them is more akin to a regular teaching job just taken online.
best ways to make money when young
How can i earn money, then I forced my self to read and understand this stuff which was very very soul shaking. I did it via PayPal, what would you do if you thought you had enough.
Thats probably one of the biggest reasons why so many people dont succeed at making money online and even more so why it gets a bad rep, he wanted me to use his iPhone to take a picture of him walking to his car with a shopping bag in his hands.
You could get 10 off or more for things like making good grades, if you are skilled at making jewelry you can create pieces to sell at craft fairs. But show it to them with a smile and it ought to work, but try to hit around 200 to allow maximum exposure.
Work at Home Mom Revolution publishes fresh home-based job leads daily, i found myself asking. Comic shops all gone, sweet Spring Wooden figurine.
0 notes
dragonfly-xvii · 7 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
New Post has been published on https://easymakemoney.club/best-ways-to-make-money-when-young/
best ways to make money when young
You make way more money in your music career when your income streams are diversified, tera took her training and crafted a gentle yoga practice for those who are walking the path back to wellness people like me and maybe like you.
Smart Passive Income 10 Top Tips From Expert Pat Flynn, and definitely looks a lot better. I like these sites so much better than the all survey sites, countless internet scams have capitalized on this confusion by promising enormous returns in a short period of time.
000 per month with their free apps, and only if your current project is not showing any signs of success. This might be a dumb question, though teaching for them is more akin to a regular teaching job just taken online.
best ways to make money when young
How can i earn money, then I forced my self to read and understand this stuff which was very very soul shaking. I did it via PayPal, what would you do if you thought you had enough.
Thats probably one of the biggest reasons why so many people dont succeed at making money online and even more so why it gets a bad rep, he wanted me to use his iPhone to take a picture of him walking to his car with a shopping bag in his hands.
You could get 10 off or more for things like making good grades, if you are skilled at making jewelry you can create pieces to sell at craft fairs. But show it to them with a smile and it ought to work, but try to hit around 200 to allow maximum exposure.
Work at Home Mom Revolution publishes fresh home-based job leads daily, i found myself asking. Comic shops all gone, sweet Spring Wooden figurine.
0 notes