#and next school year i get to work with alex and jon and go back and forth between sites.

[vulpinesaint]

i'm so excited to go back to work actually. i can't wait to be with the kiddos again i miss them :)

[banannabethchase]

Adam's parents are gone for the weekend, and invites Jon over to stay.

~

NOTE: As indicated by the rating and content warnings, there are no depictions of anybody having sex. There are conversations about wants and interests, but there's no written acts or anything. It's all implied like a YA novel.

The chapter contains some of my favorite lines I've ever written and I hope you enjoy this <3

Mini playlist: Heaven's Gate - Fall Out Boy Truly Madly Deeply - Savage Garden Lightning in a Bottle - The Summer Set Moon - The Cab

~

Adam manages to avoid Kenny and the Jacksons enough the first month of the school year, other than that moment with Matt when he had the sunglasses. He ticks off every day he makes it without an incident, until, suddenly, it’s been days since he thought about it.

He’s actually enjoying the classes and the non-Baller Club people for the first time since middle school. He aces the first AP Human Geography test, nails the in class essay on Beowulf for AP English, and does okay on the first Chemistry test. He and Alex study with Jon, who gives them tricks and strategies to survive. He makes it to October in one piece, and wonders, a little bit, if this is what people mean when they say high school is the best years of their life.

Having Jon in his corner, too, is different. He knows Adam’s tells, the name of all of Adam’s animals, all the mistakes Adam’s made, and he likes him no matter what.

It’s more like home than a person’s ever felt.

On a chilly early October afternoon, Adam’s chatting with Dalton about the cows they plan on showing, when Jon, all swagger and neon hair, swings up next to him outside of the ag barn, yells, "Boo!", and Adam nearly jumps out of his shoes.

“Is this the guy?” Dalton asks. He makes a show of looking Jon up and down. “Good look. Weird hair.”

“That’s why I do it,” Jon says, nodding to Dalton. He turns to Adam. “Hey, so, wanna hang out tonight?”

Adam nods. “Yeah,” he gives Dalton a look. “That sounds great.”

Dalton does not react.

“Dalton,” Adam says, “can we, uh, get a moment?”

“Ugh, fine,” Dalton says, “deny me my in person real life fanfiction bullshit.”

“Don’t you have, like, two boyfriends?” Jon asks.

Dalton shrugs. “Yeah, but this is different. Sometimes you want some strange, you know?”

Adam shoves him toward the path back to school. “Okay, bye, love you, get out.” He turns back to Jon. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“So, I was thinking,” Adam says. “I have an idea.”

“Two very shocking turns of events, based on how this conversation is going,” Jon pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it. “Tell me your thoughts and ideas, Cowboy.”

Adam wants to smoke just to put his lips where Jon’s have been. “You, uh,” Adam is suddenly nervous, “you wanna stay over tonight?”

Jon blinks. “Tonight?”

Adam nods. “My parents are out, they’ve got a wedding that didn’t invite anybody under twenty-one, and I’ve, uh,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve never been alone overnight before.”

“You want a buddy?” Jon asks, gently teasing. “Yeah, I’ll stay over. But don’t expect me to put out or anything. I’m not that kind of girl.”

Adam stares at him. “Put – put out? Are you kidding me, is this 1974?” He bonks Jon over the head with his agenda.

Jon shrugs, that little smile on his lips. “You’re right. I’ll probably put out if you ask nice.” His eyes go suddenly soft and serious. “I mean, if you want to.”

Adam swallows and hides his hands, because they’ve started shaking just a little bit. This is what he’d hoped for, but things are going far more according to plan than even his best scheming could have suggested. “I think so. Yeah, I think – I think it’d be nice.”

Jon smiles, a little wider, then leans in and presses a gruff kiss to Adam’s temple. “Okay, cool. I gotta go home real quick and get some stuff, okay?” He starts to pull away, but then he leans back in and kisses Adam on the mouth, hard like a promise. “See you soon.”

“Want me to drive you?” Adam calls as Jon walks away.

“I’ll bike over later.”

Adam gets a little hot all over. “Like – motorcycle?”

Jon throws his head back when he laughs, hair going everywhere. Adam wants to paint the moment, but settles for memorizing it. “Yeah, you wish, hot shot. No, I got an old ten speed.”

Adam blinks. “You dumbass. You’re coming with me.” He strides over and grabs Jon’s arm.

“I can bike!” Jon complains as Adam drags him across the campus toward the lot. “Oh, my god, you’re strong. This is so annoying. Get off.”

Adam drops him and settles for guiding him – Jon calls it shoving – by the shoulders. “Get in the car. You’re not biking, like, twelve miles.”

Jon pouts. “But it’s fast!”

Adam groans. “It’s not faster than – get in my truck, you dumbass. I’ll drive you and then we’ll go back to mine.” He opens the door and slides into the driver’s seat.

Jon, teasingly, begins stepping backwards. “I could just leave.”

“Get in the truck!” Adam can’t stop laughing, can’t hold back the glee. Jon is now weaving between other people trying to leave the parking lot.

“Can’t hear you!” he yells.

Adam groans and moves to turn his car around so he can go meet Jon from behind, but then he sees that he’s blocked in. By Matt Jackson.

“Oh, Jesus Christ McFuck,” he whines. The impulse to go home and get trashed hits him like a train. He rips his eyes away from the rear view mirror, grip now iron on the steering wheel, and does everything he can not to look in the rearview mirror. It’s too scary to think that Matt’s eyes may be looking back.

The door clicks open, and Jon jumps into the passenger seat, energy still floating around him. “You were supposed to chase me!”

“Was gonna,” Adam mutters, and immediately Jon’s tone shifts.

“What? What happened?”

Adam jerks his head behind him. “Jacksons. Behind us.”

Jon makes a weird face. “You – you wanna, like, reverse into them or something?”

“Why do you look mildly turned on by vehicular damage?” Adam asks, decidedly going forward in the line.

“It’s you doing the vehicular damage,” Jon replies, “so, like, kind of always turned on.”

“Even when Mr. Pham is talking about inequity of wealth in global communities?” Adam asks, making it to the first of three stop signs in the line. “That seems irresponsible.” He glances in the rearview mirror out of habit, and immediately wants to throw up. Matt was looking at him. “What are the odds of them behind right me in the line?!”

“Breathe, Cowboy,” Jon says gently. He rests a hand on Adam’s arm, and Adam drops it from the wheel, grabbing him.

“I am breathing,” he says. “All I want to do is slide tackle the two of them. And then, like, punch them in the throat.”

“Charming,” Jon says. “Talk more violence. This is fun.”

“You’re gonna get me in trouble with Scotty if you don’t put on your seat belt." He doesn’t look in the rear view mirror this time, just uses the ones on the side. It loosens the vice crushing his chest, if he just pretends they aren’t there. But that can only go so far.

“Scotty and his little parking lot police golf cart can’t even outrun me on foot,” Jon says, buckling anyway and throwing his feet up on the dash. “Let’s focus on tonight and the way I’m gonna make you forget about those Elite assholes.” Jon begins to rant about how mediocre they are, how lame their name is, and it sounds like he’s reading out of a book. It gives Adam the room to breathe, the opportunity to laugh. The vice falls away. “And tonight,” Jon says, “we’re gonna make it so the only thing you remember about Kenny Omega is that his dick is weird and he fucks like trash compared to me.”

Adam finds himself giggling. “Thought you said you wouldn’t put out?”

“That was before I had the image of you punching someone in the throat and the way you, ooh, stop fully at every single stop sign.” He fans himself. “The dichotomy of man.”

Adam gets him in a headlock once they’re off school property and holds him like that until they get to Jon’s house.

He runs in and gets whatever the hell from his house, then leaps back out through a window of all things.

“Why – there is a door!” Adam sputters.

“Gotta keep ‘em on their toes,” Jon says, sliding in.

“Who’s them?!”

Jon grins, then leans in to kiss Adam gently. “You, baby.”

They get to Adam’s and the tone changes. Seeing the backpack a little more filled with stuff, and knowing it’s clothes, maybe a toothbrush, makes Adam’s body feel too small, like there’s so much willing to burst out of him.

“Um,” Adam says, going for the fridge. “I, uh, since we’re alone tonight. You want a drink?” He pulls out two beers.

“Oh, no,” Jon says, stepping backward. It’s the first time Adam’s seen panic in his eyes. “Um. I don’t – I don’t drink.” He rubs anxiously at his jaw, where the stubble is the thickest. It’s where Adam finds his hand often, too. “I can’t.”

“Oh.” Adam looks down at the beers in his hands, then back to Jon. “Um. Sorry. I’ll just put them…” He trails off, and shoves them into the fridge. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s – it’s cool. Had an issue a bit ago, sophomore year.” He frowns. “Eddie and I were fighting.”

Adam nods. He thinks he remembers rumors of that. He was so wrapped up in Baller Club back then – the problems of other people were small compared to the way Cody and Kenny were fighting. “About what?”

“I was, uh, getting a little too into football,” he ruffles his hand through his pink streaked hair, “focused on the wrong things, you know? Going to the parties. Sophomore year, the seniors were all obsessed with drinking." Adam remembers that - Chris Jericho, soccer captain, spent hours talking about how good the parties were. It was the first time the Elite started a war against other people on the soccer team. "So I was, too.” He kicks at the bottom of the chair. “Got a little too into it. Eddie was worried. He was right to be.” He finally looks up into Adam’s eyes. “One night, after a party, I went to pick up Eddie to hang out. And I, uh, almost wrecked my car. Eddie was riding shotgun. He said,” his voice catches. He clears it, and starts again. “He said if I kept it up, the drinking all the time, that is, he was leaving. We yelled. He walked away. And I realized nothing was worth seeing him leave.”

Adam sits down in his mom’s chair at the table, and Jon follows, sitting in the chair Adam usually chooses. “That’s a lot,” Adam says. “I’m sorry I brought the beers out.”

“Nah, don’t be, Cowboy,” Jon says, smiling with a little sadness behind it. “Sometimes I need to talk about it. Remind myself why I don’t.”

“Speaking of Eddie,” Adam says, because it’s been bothering him, “does he know about us?” He pauses. “Like, that we’re boyfriends like – like you two are?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jon says, like it’s normal. “Yeah, he does. He’s been with Miguel for a little while too.” He shrugs. “Eddie’s my endgame, but we don’t think it makes sense to get stuck in that, you know? I’m gonna marry Eddie one day, live in some shitty little apartment happily ever after with taxes and bills fucking it up, but that doesn’t mean we can’t, I don’t know, find connections with others.” Jon’s smile goes soft, gentle. “And I like our connection.”

Adam grins. “Glad to hear it.

Jon scuffs his shoe on the ground. “Uh, so,” he clears his throat, “I got a question.”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever, um, have you actually done anything before?” Jon asks. “I know I was talking shit earlier, but I honestly don’t know what to expect from Kenny Omega and his sexual attraction to soccer cleats.”

Adam nods. “I had, uh, sex. With Kenny. A lot.”

Jon raises an eyebrow. “A lot, he clarifies?”

“Shut up,” Adam says, burning pink. “Just with him, though.”

“Nobody else?” Jon asks, and it’s more gentle than Adam expects.

Adam shakes his head. “I, uh, I gotta be honest with you. I don’t think I’ve gotten over Kenny.” He doesn’t know why he says it.

Jon is quiet for a moment. “That’s okay. I’ve got Eddie, so maybe we’re kinda in the same boat there.” He meets Adam’s eyes. “You think he might be your Eddie?”

“I don’t know,” Adam says, and he really doesn’t. “If we don’t iron everything out, I hope not. But if we do.” He lets it hang in the air. He doesn’t want to admit it, doesn’t want to allow hope to seep in through the cracks of his own insecurities. And, he realizes, doesn’t want to let latent feelings for someone who won’t speak to him get in his and Jon's way.

“You don’t have to make any decisions about that,” Jon says, and he stands, offering out a hand. “Just – live the moment. If you two get back together, awesome. If you don’t, that’s the way it goes. But right now,” he’s pulls Adam’s hand, walking backwards, “it’s whatever you want.”

Adam follows him. “Whatever I want?”

Jon grins. “You know what I mean.”

They give up on words for a while, lazily making out on the couch, when Jon’s hands find themselves crawling up the front of Hangman’s shirt. And he pauses.

“Wait.” He pulls back, and yanks Adam’s shirt off.

“Um.”

“You have legit abs." He sounds reverent, astonished. "You – what do you do, paint those on?” Jon reaches out and touches Adam’s chest. “Fuck, you’re the painting.”

Adam stares. “You’ve seen me shirtless!”

“Yeah, like, for a second, but now I get to look, and I’m looking.” He looks a little dazed. “How do you even get those?” He looks up, dead into Adam’s eyes. “Is this what all hot cowboys look like?”

Adam fights the urge to cover up. He’s never had this before – someone staring at him like this, saying all these complimentary things. With Kenny, it was the norm. All of them had abs, unless they’d just loaded up on a pasta party, and even then they’d pull the joke they’d call ‘fat abs’, which, looking back, really wasn’t funny at all.

Jon’s looking at him like he’s a masterpiece, and he’s used to feeling like a factory model. “Here, don’t look too close at me or whatever, but I’m getting my shirt off and just, yeah. Don’t,” he looks shy, suddenly. “Don’t judge me, okay?”

Adam helps him take off his shirt, and finds himself looking for flaws, interest piqued by Jon’s request, but he finds nothing to startle him. Some scars around the top of his chest, something maybe surgery related around his stomach, but Jon’s beautiful and tantalizing and he has chest hair, which is the first time he’s seen it on a kid his age. Adam decides, in that moment, to shut out the memory he has of Kenny, naked and glowing under sunlight.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbles, and his mouth doesn’t feel like it’s working for words. So he decides not to worry about them, letting his actions speak for him.

They fumble, of course. Adam’s not sure why they thought they’d both be superstars at this, but it feels like safety and joy, like learning more about yourself through the touch of another. He laughs – more than once.

When they collapse onto Adam’s bed, foreheads sweaty and Adam finding pink hair in his face at every turn, Adam’s heart feels full. He feels calm.

“Your hair is in my face,” Adam mutters, because it’s getting ridiculous enough that he’s about to sneeze with all this pink under his nose.

“Deal with it,” Jon replies, and he snuggles up against Adam, his face buried into Adam’s neck. Almost automatically, Adam reaches around Jon and pulls him in close.

It’s soft and quiet for a moment, Adam sure he could fall asleep, when he gets walloped in the face. “What – why are you ruining the moment?”

“You’re breathing loud.”

Adam opens his eyes to a curtain of pink hair across his face. He spits it out, shifting so Jon flops onto the bed. “What, I’m not allowed to breathe?”

“You,” Jon says, putting himself back onto Adam’s chest, throwing his pink hair over Adam’s eyes, “aren’t allowed to kill my afterglow.”

It strikes Adam as devastatingly funny, somehow, and he laughs so hard his stomach hurts. But Jon’s laughing with him, and they curl around each other like puppies, and Adam wants this forever.

~

The weekend passes with strange domesticity. Adam’s never woken up without his parents like this before, or with Jon, but it, somehow, feels right.

They kiss goodbye Sunday evening, with Jon grabbing Adam’s bicep like a lifeline as he draws the breath out of him. Adam lingers on the goodbye, even though he doesn’t have to.

“We’ll see each other tomorrow,” Jon says, tucking a rogue curl behind Adam’s ear. “Besides. Check your texts. I sent you something.”

Adam blushes the whole car ride home.

~

For a Monday, things go pretty well. Until he crosses the building to get to Chemistry class. As he passes the gym and locker rooms, an arm grabs him, and he’s yanked into a room. His fists are up, and he’s ready to swing, when he sees Anna.

“What – why are you in the boy’s locker room?”

“Don’t worry about that,” she says. “Why are you hanging out with Jon Moxley so much?”

Adam feels his face burn. “I’m – we’re, it’s like, it’s just…” He trails off. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I’m your friend, and I’m the only one with a brain cell in the Dark Order. All of them think it’s cute you moved on.” She folds her arms in front of herself. “I'm concerned for your wellbeing.”

“I'm not gonna get weird about him or anything,” Adam says. Anna raises an eyebrow. “No, seriously! I won’t.”

“Yeah,” she deadpans, “because you’re great with regulating your emotions.”

“I won’t!” Adam repeats. “I swear. I mean, he’s my boyfriend. But I’m good. I swear. I’m not gonna get hurt or anything.”

“You sound like a dumbass in a romcom,” Anna says. “You really believe you, of all people, can keep yourself from getting hurt.”

Adam don’t answer right away. He knows he’s a romantic; he’s fallen in love about four times a day since he learned to appreciate a nice ass. But this, with Jon? It feels like friendship with a fire underneath it. It feels safe. It doesn’t feel like he used to with Kenny. “I do,” Adam says. “I really do.”

Anna studies him for long enough that he starts to feel ants crawl up his spine. She makes eye contact like other people make war. “I’m keeping an eye on you,” she finally says. “If he hurts you, I’m going to choke him out. I want to make sure you know that. And then I’ll probably choke you out, too.”

Adam nods. “Fair. Just – have a little faith, okay?” He smiles. “This time, I think I’m on the right track.”

“You better be,” Anna says with a sigh. “John is a little pissed that he’s not the Jon you’re getting into bed with. If you mess it up, he might confront you about it.”

Adam laughs, ducking his head. “Well, I’ll tell him he’s pretty next time I see him, how about that?”

“If you go that far, he might cream his pants.” She wrinkles her nose. “Anyway, you leave first. I’ll go out the back way.”

Adam blinks. “There’s a back way?”

With a sigh, like this is the final straw of her dealing with his shit, she nods. “Yes, dumbass, the window. There’s always a back way if there’s a window.”

He opens his mouth to respond that they are, indeed, on the second floor, and he’s pretty sure it opens out to the courtyard, but Anna’s gone and he’s speaking to air.

He shakes his head and pulls his hair off of his face, and makes his way out of the locker room. And the day only gets weirder. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he grumbles. It’s not as bad as seeing Kenny, at least, and Nick at least looks a little hesitant as they pass in the hallway.

“Hi, Adam.”

It’s enough to stop him in his tracks. “Are you actually talking to me?” He doesn't say it mean, he thinks. It's truly just disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” Nick says, so fast it’s like he didn’t mean to speak. “Um, that my brother and Kenny are being such jerks.” He rubs his hand at his neck. He’s cut his hair a little shorter. Trying to grow a beard. None of it masks how young those bright blue eyes are. “I just wanted to, uh. I wanted to make sure you know I’ve still got your back. And I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

Adam just blinks at him. Nick’s always been the gentlest of them all, he knows it, and Adam’s sorry to say he’s been on the rough end of Adam’s own anger. “You do?”

Nick nods. “I,” he pauses, drawing his eyes up to meet Adam’s. It feels safe. “I don’t think any of us did a good job of being friends to you. We didn’t help you.” He furrows his brow. “I could tell something is wrong and I just…I’ve been talking to my pastor about it, and he thinks an apology is only the first step. So, I’m sorry. For not doing something when I could tell you weren’t – that something wasn’t right.”

Adam wants to say something, but no words come, so he settles for a smile until his brain reconnects. “How’s the season going?”

Nick lights up. “Oh, so good!” His eyes go somewhere else for a second. “Well, sort of. Matt and I have that stopper/sweeper routine down pat. We’re letting in, like, no offensive players. It’s great.” He turns his eyes back to Adam’s. “And yesterday’s game - you should have seen the way we left the other team – we’re ten and oh, so we’re doing so much better than we exp…” He trails off. “Um. Well, we’re doing better than I expected we’d be doing without you.” His smile turns sheepish. “You always were always our best striker. Even though Kenny never wanted to admit it.”

“Oh. Thanks. That’s, uh. That’s high praise, from you.” He nods. “A good defender can always tell the good strikers.”

“And this one does,” Nick says. “Hey, I gotta get to my next class before the bell. I have Herrington and she’s like – ”

“Oh, definitely, run,” Adam laughs. “She’s the worst when it comes to late students.”

Nick nods. He steps backwards, pauses, then runs at Adam, wrapping him in a quick, tight hug. “I’ve missed you,” he says. “I’ll text you sometime, okay?”

The bell goes off, and Adam is left, a little baffled but content, standing in the hallway.

[saintqueer]

On Being 13

by saintqueer

Date Written: July 2019

CW: brief mention of an eating disorder

I will be posting a series of old creative nonfiction essays I wrote in 2019-20 every Friday and tagging them #a saintqueer original. Some might be a little outdated but I'm getting my feet wet in the experience of sharing my own writing again. Hope you enjoy! My inbox is always open.

Your name is Jordan. It is 2006 and you just turned 13. You are officially a teenager. Not a preteen. Nor god-forbid a tween. You’re in eighth grade at middle school in the Bay Area suburbs and you just got your first cell phone. It’s a silver LG flip phone without a camera. Modern social media has been born but is not yet widespread. Myspace and AIM are still the name of the game. And your friend’s Top 8s are literally worth crying over. You buy songs you like on iTunes for 99 cents. Songs like Far Away by Nickelback and Jesus, Take the Wheel by Carrie Underwood. That is, until you wizen up and start using LimeWire in 2007. By that time, you’ll think your tastes much improved. You’ll illegally download songs like Buy U a Drank by T-Pain, Wait For You by Elliott Yamin, and everything Chris Brown puts out. Every single feeling you have is so large it’s like it has the potential to kill you. Weird shit is happening to your body. You started puberty early but it shows absolutely no sign of stopping. Things just seem to be getting weirder and more emotional. You cut your own side bangs and they look hella cool.

Ok, let’s pause there. I’m gonna go ahead and break the fourth wall here. Reader, I was planning on doing this entire piece as a kind of immersive second person experience. But. I. Just. Can’t. It’s too hard and writing about being 13 is difficult enough. I think that intro was enough to get you in the right head space of Jordan circa 2006-2007.

Over the last year, there has been more truthful explorations of the adolescent experience in media than ever before. With shows like Pen15 and Big Mouth and films like Eighth Grade, I feel like for the first time I’m starting to come to terms with my own adolescence. Being 13 is really fucking hard. And 13-year-olds get such a bad rap when, honestly, they’re just trying to do the best they can with all the shit they’ve been thrown.

I first felt compelled to write this piece when reading a section of a book from my favorite podcaster, Karen Kilgariff. Karen describes a lecture series she went to in which one of the presenters made a case in defense of 13 year olds. Karen writes that being 13 “is the hardest age you ever have to be because of all the chemicals and hormones constantly raging through your body. It’s like you’re being drugged and then woken up with speed on a daily basis. All social structure implodes and resets itself in a totally unfamiliar way. You’re simultaneously the oldest version of a child and the youngest version of an adult, so you don’t belong anywhere. You don’t get babied, and you don’t get respect.” Basically, it fucking sucks!!!

At 13, my eating disorder was already in full swing and my body-dysmorphia-riddled brain had no shortage of reasons for why my life would be so much better if I weighed 25 pounds less. They would weigh us in gym class, one by one, and assign us our BMI classification (mine was “overweight”). I was constantly dieting, with resounding approval from family and peers; starving my growing body of whole food groups and then binging. My school used to sell these pizza hot pocket things in plastic wrapping called pizza sticks (they were so DELICIOUS). One time, I found an unopened and still-warm pizza stick on the floor next to a garbage can. Wildly hungry from my meager carb-less lunch I picked it up off the floor and shoved it into my mouth, facing the wall, in as few bites as possible so no one would see. OFF THE FLOOR…OUTSIDE. I think it was on a pile of leaves and other trash (though unopened, it was slightly flattened on one side so it might have been stepped on?). This is actually the first time I’ve told anyone that I did that. Blogging is fun.

I was truly beginning to understand that my body was a commodity in society. I couldn’t take up space as a girl and to be beautiful was to be frail. My body was a sexual thing but I was not allowed to be a sexual being. Boys were the horny ones, not girls. But boy, was I! The thing was I couldn’t tell anyone, only the bathtub faucet could know. This was heightened all the more by my church and my faith. Youth group taught me the importance of dressing modestly and how we had to do everything within our power to help easily tempted boys remain sexually pure. I had so much shame that I had any kind of sexuality at all.

A majority of us wanted to fit in when we were 13. And I wanted it desperately. It’s not necessarily that I wanted to be cool, it’s more like I just wanted to belong. I wanted to have best friends. I wanted boys to have crushes on me. I wanted to be wanted. And it never happened for me. I didn’t develop deep lasting friendships until my late teens. I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 21, for god’s sake. My friends at 13 were changeable and excluding. I felt like I was constantly vying for their approval and as I entered high school in 2007, my social life became the center of my world.

Admittedly, high school felt much more enjoyable than middle school. I had established my place in the cool crowd and shirked academics. I stopped listening to Christian Rock and started listening to Lil Wayne and learning how to twerk. I cut class with a friend to straighten my hair with my hot pink straightener in Starbucks. I got in trouble with the cops for underage drinking. I got better at actually starving myself for a few days at a time instead of just dieting. I was significantly better at swearing. However, every single thing still felt like the biggest deal ever and it felt like it would always be that way.

Now, over a dozen years later, I hardly ever think about how it felt to be 13. I always forget that I “fell in love” with a boy named Alex at church summer camp who I saw from afar five times and talked to once for two minutes. It’s hard to believe now that I wrote his name in sharpie on my converse sneakers and sang I Drive Myself Crazy by *Nsync while crying and staring directly back at myself in the mirror.

This might seem unforgiving but I feel like the one redeemable thing about being 13 is that it doesn’t last forever. It ends. You grow and you change and you work through your trauma. If you’re lucky, you get better friends and you go to therapy and do some healing over ten years later by watching tv shows and movies that remind you of every painful feeling. Then you look back and laugh. You laugh at that school dance where Peter said he’d never, ever slow dance with you. You laugh at the school dance less than a year later where you grind provocatively on a dude you don’t know to Get Low by Lil Jon and the Ying Yang Twins. You laugh (hysterically, I might add) at eating that pizza stick off the floor. You laugh at smoking weed for the first time using a plastic water bottle your friend somehow turned into a shitty bong. You laugh at shoplifting your first thong from Ross. You laugh at your self-cut side bangs. You laugh and you laugh and you laugh and then you, finally, move on.

[josiebelladonna]

gray ghost / chapter one / alone in boston

originally titled “coffin breaks”, i started kicking this one around back on valentine’s day after alex shared that little cartoon i made for him. i put it in my wattpad drafts about as quickly as i had made it because i was feeling fever in, fever out more.

the follow up to six feet under and buried alive to round out the “dead trilogy” offshoot from now it’s dark i began real late last year. this should answer some questions from those two, like who really was kristina and what the hell did she do to charlie after she died.

only going to be four (maybe five) chapters long so i’m not overwhelmed with everything else. will also feature a couple of guys named chino and jon, and i’ll show the link between them and testament (that will expounded on in the later installments of fever, though). much like fever, it’s far more of a friendship story than a romance, although there is a slight undertone. already resurrected on my wattpad (hannah-cornell) and on my ao3, under my main name josiebelladonna instead of alexa given the ties to now it’s dark.

and yes: take the tags on ao3 to heart. mommy is very angry.

He was a boy I had studied adjacent to when we attended the school of Satriani together. I knew I was about to go places with my music, and thus I needed a master of sorts, someone to show me the way through it all. He and I met almost by chance, given I was the only girl in the whole class at the back of a music shop who wanted to take things to the next level with my musicianship.

Scott and Danny had run off and formed their own little band, Anthrax, a name to stand out amongst the rest given most of the bands at the time had names like Motograter and Carburetor. Every time I turned around everyone was forming a band in the heart of New York City. I almost felt like an outlier given I was a solo musician with nothing more than her set of strings and a pen with a bit of paper.

Add to this, I was alone in New York with my dysfunctional family and the guitar on my back. Playing was the only escape I had from it all. The new kid no longer the new kid and the feeling remained with me, even as all my friends moved on with their own lives.

And yet, by some mere stroke of luck, I still managed to get my ass to the school of Joe Satriani over in California: I had gotten word from a certain friend of a friend by the name of Steve Vai that he was headed out there to teach some kids guitar. All I knew about him was he was easy to work with, and he could make the most reclusive of students come out of their shell—at least that was what I heard about him; "Satch" as everyone called him. I was a folk musician, but I was a guitarist at the end of the day. I needed to be around a guitarist, much like how I blossomed being around Scott and Danny.

I needed to be out there, given Scott and Danny had left Queens already: I looked at my surroundings and I figured it was time to do something about it. Add to this, my mom was missing the west coast.

I didn't want to be left behind. I barely knew Steve and yet he was willing to give me his plane ticket out to San Francisco so I could be a female student under Satch. For all I knew, I was about to be the only girl, given Steve said every person Satch had taught so far was a boy. I could go out there first and then my mom would follow. Make a home for myself first.

The next thing I knew, I had been whisked away to California, an eighteen year old girl with nothing more than the clothes on her back and a guitar case down by her knees. I had no idea what to think when I landed in the Bay Area and I was met with a thick bank of fog out beyond the Golden Gate Bridge and the first rays of bright morning sunshine at my back. I met with my driver and he drove me to a little loft overlooking the waters. For all I knew I was to be the one girl there, not just studying under Satch, but actually staying there.

Indeed, I was glad that Steve had gotten me a ticket for the red eye and I had touched down early in the morning because the first lesson started in a few hours.

I had no time to get settled into my loft, let alone brush my silvery blonde hair and change my clothes.

I headed on downstairs and made my way across the narrow stretch of pavement to the front step of the room where we were all supposed to meet up. Indeed, the second I stepped inside there, every student in there turned his head to see me. There was twelve of them, including a boy with thick curly black hair and bit of a baby face and another boy with a head of hair that seemed to stand in every which direction. Satch stood before them, with a fedora atop his head, glasses on his face, and a bright red acoustic in hand. He showed me a grin as I strode my way over to the circle: my ankle length skirt billowed behind me with every step.

I took a seat between the frazzled looking boy and the baby faced boy, and I sighed through my nose.

"Well, gentlemen—lady," he flashed me a smile. "Let's get this started then."

The baby faced boy turned to me with a thoughtful look on his face.

"I think we've got a good crowd here," he said in a soft voice, "wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh, yeah," I agreed with him. The frazzled boy to my right extended me his hand.

"I'm Alex," he introduced himself in a little squeak of a voice.

"Kristina," I said, and I spotted a silver Magen David medallion around his narrow neck. Ah, Jew boys.

"And I'm Kirk," the baby faced boy told me. "You look new. Like, I haven't seen you around here."

"Came here all the way from New York City," I told him.

"Wow—did you come out here by yourself?" Alex asked me.

"I did. It's a new adventure for me."

He showed me a sweet little smile.

"That's so cool."

"For sure. It's really cool."

All I could think about was Scott, but I had a strange feeling about this boy next to me, Alex. I wanted to know more about him.

Even though I had taken lessons with Satch in that back room of the music store, I knew I wouldn't stay there on the West Coast. But I relished in my growing up alongside Alex and Kirk; apparently the former was the youngest of the bunch, just a little twelve year old boy with long smooth black hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. Every so often, he stopped playing and he adjusted a piece of hair that had fallen onto his face.

He hung onto Satch's every word with every class. Kirk did, too, but he would often look out the window to the birds and the fog outside beyond the loft. There was something hypnotic about him, this little boy with shaggy jet black hair, a little knit yarmulke on his head, wrapped in a Kiss T-shirt, and with a little black guitar resting on his lap. For seven weeks, I sat next to him, and right next to Kirk, and I followed along with him. The boy was a born player, and in fact all of us were as far as I could tell, and by Satch's words as well. But it came to him so naturally, like he had crawled out onto the earth with that guitar in hand.

Kirk meanwhile often left early, about ten minutes before Satch dismissed us, and he never gave an explanation, either. I spent a lot of time next to Alex as a result. I followed along side him even more: even though he didn't talk much, I felt a strange closeness to him at one point.

Once the guitar lessons had completed, Kirk finally told me where he went every day.

"I'm in a band," he said with a tone of glee. "We're called Exodus!"

"I want to be in a band so much," Alex lamented.

"Keep your eye out, man," Kirk told him.

"Yeah, that's definitely something to look out for," was all I could think to follow up to that.

That was the last time I saw Alex because I returned to the East Coast within a week. I didn't want to be in New York again, but I knew the East Coast was my home. I vowed to my mom that I would bring her back out to there with me again so she could be close to me; I decided on Boston instead of New York City.

A little place of my own about a block from the Cisco sign.

With Satch's lessons under my belt, I could go forth and do my own thing as a folk musician. But I must confess that I could never go past busking and performing on chosen open mic nights in coffee houses. I watched my peers join bands and rage against the world. Apparently Kirk had left that band Exodus and joined a new one called Metallica: I knew about them because I stumbled upon their demo tape, No Life 'Til Leather when I was shopping for some new records in a shop down the street from me. I tried to get back in touch with Scott and Danny, who had already gone away with their own projects Anthrax and Nuclear Assault in that respective fashion.

For several years, I tried to perform and catch people's ears, but I could never ascend to their level, however. I went to work as a custodian and then practiced playing my guitar and wrote some songs.

At one point, I had something like around two hundred songs. I needed to record something and get myself out there. Metallica did it, so did Anthrax and Nuclear Assault.

I knew I had to work and save my own money before I got my hands on a recorder and a bunch of blank tapes. Given it was just me in my apartment, I could sing in a soft voice and jam along on my guitar. Most of the songs were ten minutes: the shortest was three minutes.

Every single day for what felt like an eternity, after my menial job, I sat down at my desk with a pen and a sheet of paper, and I wrote down any and all lyrics that came to mind. Being alone allowed me to write out everything I was feeling. I had become my own best friend.

My own best friend. My own muse. I was alone in Boston with no one to talk to and this had become my life now.

Everything else around me was quiet and I never really spoke to anyone in my building. But every so often, I thought about Alex in particular. I thought about his little boyish face, and his mere enthusiasm with everything. Given his parents were older, he seemed a lot more mature in comparison to everyone else in that guitar class.

There came a point at the end of the decade when I heard his name again, and he had joined a band called Testament as their lead guitarist. They had done a new record called Practice What You Preach, and they seemed to be en route to being the next Metallica. It was that record that I decided to fetch my own tape recorder and put something down for myself. I could feel the clock ticking over me.

Such raw recordings, I wondered if anyone would take them. It was right around that time Anthrax toured in Boston and I had enough money to buy a ticket for myself. A ticket and a backstage pass. Before the show, I tucked the tapes into my purse because I knew Scott was going to be there.

Indeed, once I was let into the backstage area, I spotted him over by the refreshment table. His dark hair had dropped down past his shoulders and his eyebrows were thick and jet black to contrast his pale face. There was another guy next to him who almost towered over him.

"Alex!" someone called out to him, and I recognized his prominent aquiline nose and the full, round shape of his face.

I wanted to tell him that he looked so good and healthy, as round and sweet from my memory of him, and the thin wispy beautiful pale white shocks about the very front of his head caught my attention from far away. Like a little ghost. I could see him from a mile away with those stripes. He grabbed my attention even from across the room. I wondered what he was doing there.

He showed me the sweetest little smile I had ever seen him show before. One that was soft and gentle, as if he was a young boy again.

But I never did get to talk to him again until well after.

It was three years following that record in which he left Testament to pursue something beyond thrash metal. I managed to find my way into the cafes around Boston with my guitar in hand and my own lyrics for the world to hear. So many days in which I watched other women rise to the occasion, and yet it felt as though I had missed the boat somehow. They all sang and played guitar, but nothing like how I played it. I had somehow found myself on the outside, away from the simplicity and the quickness.

I found myself even more alone than before.

In the meantime, that streak haunted my dreams for three years. I could feel him following me and watching my every move. He had become like a ghost of sorts, even though he had merely disappeared into the grand stretch of oblivion. He was still there, but where he had run off to was another question.

I needed a record deal and yet I never made the cut despite the love from the small crowds in coffee houses all around Boston and Providence. I yearned to see him again, such that his absence left me with something more. Alex's departure from Testament had left a gaping hole in my heart. A hole that was half black and half that beautiful shade of silver. I wished for Scott, but there was Alex. There he was all along.

And yet I swore I would never see him again. The young boy now a beautiful man had escaped me.

The holes within me widened, and I needed a bit of relief, and it never helped matters that I was still alone in Boston, even after all that I had done for myself.

I had become my own best friend, but the pains in my chest told me otherwise. I had become as much of a ghost as him. I needed something to relieve the pain. I never got to speak to anyone other than to those in my audiences, but I always went home alone. I watched my blonde hair darken to a deeper shade of brown, and I finally decided it would be best to darken it even more to a solid black. Solid jet black just like the hair of the two men I loved.

The pains in my chest were so strong that I could hardly breathe. I found myself descending further into the shadows, away from the men I loved, the boy I loved, my own best friend. The love of my life.

I swore I would never see him again...

I walked home from a show one evening as the New Millennium drew nearer and nearer, and I felt a soft tap on my shoulder. I turned and there he was, the ghost of my dreams, with his jet black curls now shorn down to past his shoulder's length and his lanky body having softened up a bit. The streak had enriched to something beyond a pearl, like a lightning bolt. His eyes had deepened with the intense amount of age. The pain in my chest remained but to see him before me proved to do something for me.

My love had returned.

"I was just thinking about you," was all I could muster for him.

"And I had a feeling that was you," he said in the deepest voice, and yet his tone was soft, as soft as my memory of him. "I just felt it in my bones that it was you." And I wondered if the guitar case on my back had anything to do with it. "Where are you headed?"

"I was just going back home," I said as I adjusted the strap on my guitar case. "What brings you here?"

"I've been visiting the Northeast more," he replied. "I kinda wanna be around here. You know, my parents are from New York City, so I feel more at home around here than I do the West Coast."

"Just like me," I whispered; I then cleared my throat. "Well, would you like to come in for a cup of tea?"

"I can't," he confessed, "I've got some more things I need to do up here, but where do you live, though? I might visit you again at some point."

"I live right down the street here, the apartment two doors from us."

"Okay. I can't believe I'm actually seeing you again after all these years, Kristina." He opened his arms for me and he held me close to his body. As soft as the young boy I had known so well.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter twenty-eight: alex’s nineteenth birthday

It took Sam a few moments to realize that she was no longer back in her apartment, but at the new place in Hell's Kitchen. But she had found her way back to that safe place, even if the surroundings had changed to of great extent. She shook her head to rid of her dream world and she placed the journal down on the table before her.

Marla had slept through the throes of jet lag for what felt like forever, and swift phone call back to Jon and Marsha's place allowed her to figure things out from then onward as the summer days dwindled down to autumn there in New York. Indeed, Anthrax themselves would make their grandiose return to the United States in no time once another trio of dates wrapped up for them. A full four weeks off and they would make the flight back to Europe for a fuller stint of the tour, and albeit one that would last them all the way to Christmas. It almost felt as though Jon was making it up as he went along but she had to take his word for it, especially given the shakiness of the music world, and especially since Aurora and Emile hadn't returned to New York City themselves.

Her best friend had gone off with her new groom and in turn left her there at the altar herself. She sat there on a stool next to the phone on the wall and she listened to Jon talk about things there at the label. Marla still hadn't woken up and Zelda had long left the apartment to deal with her own affairs with the Cherry Suicides: the latter of whom did, however, leave her duct taped boots there at the apartment, right next to the coffee table. There was that vase there at the far end, right where Sam had been laying, and she yearned for those yellow tulips once again. Sam cleared her throat but she never said anything while she listened and hung onto every word.

She had to do so: she was the most important person there at the label at the moment next to Jon.

“Besides, Alex's birthday is coming up here in a few weeks time,” he added at one point, and that coaxed a smile out of Sam.

“He'll be nineteen now! Still just a hatchling.”

Jon chuckled at that, but Sam was serious upon saying that. Alex still was a young boy about to make his transition into manhood. A nineteen year old kid who had already put out an album and yet she still struggled to make her way through the art world. There had to be an opening of sorts, something that could potentially free her from the whole tedium of going to school and going back home. It wasn't just the change in surroundings, but rather there had to be an escape out of there somehow.

Something to move her away from it all, even if it was just for a little bit, even as she and Jon bode their goodbyes and she hung up the phone.

The thrill and rush of being on tour had something to do with it. Being out in the world at large. All the world was a stage after all. She had that itch she couldn't seem to scratch once again, and the first day of school had to prove to be something more for her lest she find herself bounding off of the walls of Hell's Kitchen once more.

She strode back out of the kitchen so as to fetch her journal. So much drawing in such a short amount of time, and she remembered that school was about to start off a brand new quarter and ultimately a brand new year within a few days time.

She returned to those three drawings that happened as if they each were a hallucination. Something that came forth from another part of her mind, a place that no one knew about before. But she had to keep it under wraps for the time being, for the time in which she had right there at that very moment, that precise moment in time, the very present. At some point, Joey needed to know how she felt about him, and if it had to take her utmost intimate pieces of art to do such a thing then she was willing to undertake that task.

Marla needn’t know about them, not until there came a time in which she had to talk about them for real. But then again, she had her privacy at her fingertips, the precious bit of privacy all to herself. She had her mind’s eye fixed on the three men among the pages of that journal, the three men whom everyone knew but also didn’t know at the same time.

A knock at the door caught her attention and thus jarred her back down to earth once again. She closed the journal and clambered to her feet. Lucky for her, Genie had curled up with Marla in the bed down the hall. Sam recognized that head of blonde hair down past the shoulders now tied up tight in a snug ponytail upon her head coupled with the doll-like features.

“Oh, hi, Bel,” she greeted her.

“Hey! Is Marla up?”

“Nah, she's been out like a light for the last day and a half. I think she got up once after you left the morning after. What’s going on?”

“A little bird told me that it’s about to be someone’s birthday soon,” she replied in singsong voice. “A certain boy who happens to play guitar in the only five piece band for miles.”

“Let me guess,” Sam started as she let her into the apartment, “Jon told you.”

“I won’t tell,” Belinda giggled, and then she shut the door behind her, and she turned towards Sam with her eyebrows knitted together.

“She got up once after I left,” Belinda echoed her. “Only once.”

“Yeah, Marla’s just been wiped out lately because of the damn jet lag,” Sam answered, and she tucked her hands into her shorts pockets. “I've been sleeping well, though.”

“I have, too—wow.”

“So what'd you have in mind for little Mr. Alexander?” Sam took her seat on the arm of the couch closest to the door.

“Well, I was thinking that—since he's a guitar player—maybe you and I can look into playing around with leather and make him a new strap?”

“Ooh, yeah! Like you can craft out the leather and I can paint on designs and whatnot on there. That's a great idea, Bel!”

“We'll have to do some reading, of course, but it's definitely something I've thought about in the past. Getting into leather work. It's just something that fascinates me.”

“It sounds fascinating—like glass work.”

“Well, since Marla isn't up, I'm thinking maybe you and I can go over to the book shop up the block here and find something about that.”

“I'll take it,” said Sam as she reached for her purse on the hook behind her. “Totally nice day for a walk, anyways.”

“Right?”

Without another word, the two of them headed outside to the hazy gray afternoon and they made their way up the block to the book shop in question. Sam thought about that one place that she and Cliff had gone to down by L'Amour all the while, even as she and Belinda looked up the books in the crafting section, tucked back in the far corner of that main room. She gazed on at the beading books and the paper crafts, and she thought about Joey all the while: on the front covers, those beads arranged in all those arrows and points made her think of Native American baskets.

And then she remembered that Joey's birthday was coming up as well, exactly two weeks after Alex.

“Hey, Bel, you wanna do something for Joey's birthday?” she asked her.

“Sure!” Belinda then turned her attention to her from a book she had swiped from the shelves. “What'd you have in mind?”

“Something Native American related. You know, the whole leather work guitar strap thing but with something that's faithful to his heritage, though.”

“Okay—well, I'm reading this here and it's rather easy to figure out. It's getting my paws on a leather work kit is the real bitch about it, though. This thing here says a single hundred piece kit is almost fifty bucks.”

“It's worth it, though,” Sam pointed out.

“Absolutely. I think there is in fact a place for that—up the block here. Where I can get a couple of strips of nice leather for those two boys and just buckle down with the tools. I think you can get paints there, too.”

Indeed, the two of them headed back out, complete with Belinda buying that craft book as well, and then they further headed up the street to that craft shop in question. Just a walk along that sidewalk made Sam wonder about her own desires to break free of it all in favor of a change of pace. She peered up at the buildings that lined the streets and the hazy sun overhead. It was in fact home to her after all.

“I literally love how we can go just about anywhere here in New York,” Sam remarked as Belinda held the door for her.

“Right? Everything we want and need—right nearby. We can either walk there, or hitch a ride on the bus or the subway. We can give it all what for even if we can't find what we're looking for with these two boys.”

“I'm gonna give you what for if you don't wrap it up in paper,” Sam teased her, and Belinda chuckled at that as they stepped inside the craft shop: rows of shelves stood before them, underneath a series of soft fluorescent lights, and Sam was greeted by the fresh smell of new tools right there in their face.

“How 'bout you wrap the whole entire thing up in paper with a little bow on top?” she retorted back. Sam then stopped right in her tracks, and she took a glimpse over at Belinda and the mischievous look on her face.

“When you say 'entire thing',” Sam began in a soft voice even with no one else in that shop there with them, “do you mean his dick or his guitar?”

“Both,” Belinda replied without a shred of irony or hesitation.

“So you want me to wrap up his dick and his guitar in paper?” Sam asked her with a straight face.

“Yes? Yes.”

“Who're we talkin' about?”

Belinda nibbled on her bottom lip, but she never said anything. Instead, she lunged forward to the row of metal shelves right in front of them.

“Bel, who're we talking about?” Sam asked her again as she adjusted the strap of her purse, but Belinda paid more attention to the leather kits in front of her face.

“We's talkin' 'bout leather, baby,” she said as she took off the first one right over her head. She then turned to the spools of leather on the far side of the room.

“What color do you think they'd like?” she asked Sam.

“I'm feeling black with Joey and—creamy white for Alex. By the way, you didn't answer my question.”

“What question's that?”

“Who were we talking about back there?”

Belinda pursed her lips together and she never said anything as she picked up two small spools of black and white leather for the guitar straps in question. She then led Sam back to the front of the shop, past the single file of paints for the leather in question.

“We's talkin' 'bout leather,” she repeated again. “By the way, that book said that black can hold just about any color while off white leather looks best with jewel tones.”

“Yes, but—who are we talking about?” Sam corrected her as she picked out a quartet of bottles, one scarlet red, one solid black, one pure white, and one sapphire blue. And Belinda still never replied to her as she doubled back to the register and she paid for it right there. Sam shook her head the whole entire time she put down the money and tucked her wallet back into her purse.

Belinda carried the leather kit and the pieces of leather under her left arm, and Sam volunteered to carry something for her.

“I got it, I got it—by the way, I was talking about both of them.” She raised her eyebrows at Sam, who then looked on at her with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Talking about both of them,” she echoed her over the noise of the street.

“Yeah. Sam, Alex is of age now. You can do whatever the hell you want with him now.”

“Yeah, but—”

“But what?”

“I do not like the way you said the word 'but' just now.”

“Thinking about Alex's butt?” Belinda teased her as she adjusted the kit and the bag of leather with her free arm, and she gave her blonde ponytail a little toss back.

“Pfff, you wish,” Sam scoffed; she felt her face growing warm with embarrassment, or the warmth of the late summer sun.

“What, you don't think he has a cute butt?”

“I haven't looked.”

“Well, next time you see him—like at the party that they're throwing for him—you oughta have a look. Libra boys have nice rear ends—at least so I'm told.”

“Nice and round, I assume?”

“Maybe,” Belinda replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

Within time, they returned to the apartment and Marla still hadn't woken up yet.

“Well, let's see,” Belinda started once she had set everything down on the kitchen table. Sam took her seat next to her, and she gave her blonde hair another toss back even though she had no need to do so from the tautness of her ponytail. “—the leather has already been treated... I'm gonna have to cut these so they resemble to guitar straps. I'm gonna need you to help me. Even though it's gonna be a bit before their birthdays, and Joey's birthday in particular, I'm glad we're getting a head start on this.”

“I am, too!” Sam declared.

“Lucky for us, we have these special scissors just for cutting leather—do you know how tall they are?”

“Joey and Alex? Joey is about middle height, like I can look at him right in the eye.”

“How tall are you?”

“Five foot seven. I'm thinking he's five foot nine?”

“Okay. What about Alex?”

“He's a big boy, I know that much. I kinda have to look up at him. And I've seen him next to Chuck, who's pretty tall in his own rite—and I've seen him next to Joey, too.”

“And how tall is he in comparison to Joey?”

“He's taller. By how much, I don't really know, to be honest. But I know he's taller.”

“Okay—I'll see what I can do.”

Indeed, Sam watched her go forth with the leather scissors and the measuring tape and the pencil for two guitar straps.

“If nothing, I can make Alex's a two piece and I can find a buckle,” Belinda told her.

“Hmmm...” But Sam never went any further than that. Instead, she watched Belinda spread out the leather, twin black and white stripes before them on the wood. She picked up the pencil yet again, that time to sketch out the designs on the upside of the leather.

“Okay, so let's figure this part here will be on Joey's shoulder... and this part here will be on Alex's shoulder...”

She sketched out the ever so faint sketch of a bouquet of roses for Joey's strap, and then a cluster of something that resembled to tulips on Alex's strap. Sam looked over at the bottles of paint next to her: on one hand, she was glad that she hadn't picked out yellow for Alex's white leather. But then again, the very sight of those tulips made her think back to those drawings in her journal. Two pieces for a strap for Alex, which meant one of them had to find a buckle for it: Belinda sewed the ends of those off in place for a buckle, and then with the pick, she poked three holes into the larger part for the adjustment.

And within time, she took the awl and the hammer and began work inside of those lines.

She took her time in engraving into the black leather and then the white leather, but Sam didn't mind in the least. They were making something together for the two birthday boys. She propped up her chin inside of the palm of her hand as she watched Belinda ever so gingerly carve into the leather with that fine chisel tip, complete with a tap of the hammer head. The little continuous clink! that came out of the hammer's head didn't bother her in the least. The petals of the flowers all came to fruition even without a full color scheme: indeed, Belinda added a few more spirals and dots on Joey's leather for a more of a Native American look. She also added something that resembled to a Day of the Dead skull on both of their straps: the skull on Alex's strap had a flower tucked right behind it.

It took her most of the afternoon to completely fill out the engraving on the sketches on both straps of leather, but she managed to do it right there, right before Sam's eyes. A bit of work, for sure, but she could make it work.

“Gonna have to run a thread through these first,” Belinda said once she set the awl and the hammer down. “So they don't come unraveled and whatnot...”

The big fat needle and the thick thread. Even more time and at that point, the straps were stitched and engraved, and lay there in anticipation for the head of a paint brush.

“Okay, you ready?” Belinda asked her.

“Lemme get my fine tipped brush...” Sam doubled back to her room for that fine tipped paint brush in question, and she returned with that plus a wash basin for the paints. Careful not to get any extraneous paint on the nice leather, she kept her hand right over the engravings for Joey's guitar strap.

“Red and white roses,” Belinda muttered as the paint collected at the deepest parts of the engravings.

“And red and white roses,” Sam added as she added a kiss of white on the otherwise red petals in the center piece of the bouquet. The colors bled for a second before they dried out right there. “Red and black tulips for Mr. Skolnick—”

“And white and blue sugar skulls, too, I presume,” said Belinda.

“White and blue for Mr. Belladonna—black and blue for Mr. Skolnick—”

Within time, Sam had painted the leather and the sun had set over Hell's Kitchen. It made sense that the flowers would be in bloom and the sugar skulls would have their full color right there. Sam held the leather back on the table so they could have a better look at them.

“Beautiful,” Belinda remarked. “They're just... they're gonna love these.”

“Too bad we don't have a leather working class at the school,” Sam said, “I actually kinda like this.”

“I do, too! We can suggest it when school starts, though.”

The two of them leaned back in their seats and looked on at the leather before them.

“I'm kinda hungry, you want something to eat?” Belinda asked her.

“Yes please. I gotta feed Genie, anyways.”

 * * * * *

 School had started for the two of them as well as Marla in what felt like no time, and Sam wondered what exactly Bill had in store for her as she signed up for an appointment with him at one point in the future. Just so long as it didn't involve her working with something tedious like any of those general education classes: she was already taking three of those that term, and in turn less time to focus on the crux of her art degree. Marla assured her that it wouldn't be anything too serious, but then again, she herself had her focus firmly on her own senior project.

Meanwhile, Sam and Belinda had the leather straps placed in boxes and then wrapped up for Alex and Joey's birthdays in the coming days. For the first week of school, she had her eye on the daunting task of junior year of college and preparing for her even more daunting senior year, but she also had those two young men on her mind. She hoped that Joey would love his new guitar strap in particular: indeed, she thought of Alex's words about how he held his guitar during the shows of that North American stint. She knew that she kept it just between herself and him, but something in the back of her mind made her consider if Joey would question the length of it.

In the meantime, for the first two weeks of school and before Alex's birthday, Sam put in her final hours at the label before they were bought out. She had no idea what Aurora was going to do afterwards, and she sure as anything had no idea what she was to do with it, especially when school finished out for her. She and Belinda came to their spot up the street after school the last Friday afternoon of the month, and Aurora greeted them both a smile on her face, much to their surprise.

“What's going on?” Sam asked her as she put her arms around her.

“I'm pregnant for real now,” Aurora told her, to which the two of them gaped at her.

“Seriously,” the former blurted out. “Like, you're not messing with us right now.” And Aurora shook her head.

“Osegueda can relax now, I s'pose?” Belinda joked.

“Yes, he can!” Aurora proclaimed.

“When did you find out?” Sam asked her.

“Just a couple of nights ago. I was gonna call you, Sam, but I guess you and Marla have your work cut out for you this year.”

“Hell yeah, we do—especially me.”

“Anyways, I felt weird, like internally, and so I went out for a test.” Aurora set her hand on the lower part of her belly. “Bun in the oven, ladies.”

“Please don't drink at Alex's party next week,” Sam pleaded her.

“He'll be nineteen, so there's not going to be any alcohol there,” Aurora assured her, “and even if there was, I've got Emile to check on me for that.”

“By the way, where's his party even gonna be?” Belinda asked.

“The Zazulas' place. I'll come get you guys if you wish.”

Given Alex's nineteenth birthday took place on a Tuesday, Sam, Marla, and Belinda all had to hustle out of school following their last classes of that day. But Aurora and Emile waited them there at the curb in their car: a packed caravan en route to the Zazulas' house at the far side of town. At one point, Belinda turned to Sam with a twinkle in her eye.

“You got the—” Sam then took out the square package enveloped in pearly white wrapping paper and with a black bow on top from her hand bag.

“Right here.”

“You guys found a buckle for that thing?” Marla asked them.

“Beautiful platinum buckle—brand new, never been used,” Belinda told her, and she never went any further than that, which led Sam to assume that she found it in the garbage somewhere. The guys from Testament were all there, as were Scott and Charlie, and James and Kirk. Sam chuckled at the memory of Lars in the kitchen the first time she and Joey went there together as she held her and Belinda's gift to Alex underneath her arm.

Aurora and Emile made their way to the other side of the house, while Sam and Belinda took to that kitchen door. Alex himself stood at the far edge of the house with a brown glass bottle in one hand: he and Greg were talking about something.

He almost didn't look the same with those tight leather pants. The black curls dangled about his shoulders like the ears of a dog: his hands pressed to his slender but shapely hips didn't help matters, either. She pictured Alex strutting along like he meant it, with that black hair splayed all around his head, and that plume of silver strong and high like a lightning bolt.

It was right there that Sam wanted him, and she wanted to see him naked for real. To see him and Joey both naked.

He had passed the right age after all: she could dream about him the way in which Belinda had joked about before.

A teenage kid about to bid his teen years farewell, and he stared back at her from across the room. Even though he was still underage, he held that empty brown bottle in one hand.

She nibbled on her bottom lip at the sight of him but then she and Belinda bowed into the house together.

They were greeted by the warm aroma of freshly baked cake in the kitchen and a small cluster of presents on the table.

“Aw, just a little party,” Marla was saying as she signed the birthday card to him with a bright red pen.

“That's really all he wanted,” Chuck told her. “Party with us, and then he's going upstate with his parents and his brother tonight. Gonna be up there for the rest of the week after this.”

“Quick little party with us and then his parents are taking him out to dinner right afterwards,” Eric called from the next room over.

“Yeah, that's it.”

Sam then turned her head and she realized that Alex and Greg were a few feet away from there. She could walk past the back door and have a better look at them, but there had to be a reason behind it. Chuck handed Belinda the card for a signing; the aroma of the cake was almost intoxicating, as if it was right there and ready to slice into for all of them. Sam then had an idea.

“I'll be right back,” she told Belinda with a raise of her finger, and she nodded in response to that. She bowed out of the kitchen and towards the back door, which hung right open for the stubborn warmth of the Indian summer.

She could walk by and make it look as though she was going to the bathroom or going to ask Marsha a question. Indeed, Sam strode on by so she could have a better look at the bottle in Alex's hand; he had turned to the side so it hung there right by his hip. It was sarsaparilla.

That also gave her a chance to look at the curvature of his thighs, albeit for a few seconds. She couldn't believe she had done that, either, given she already had a boyfriend. She had a boyfriend and he couldn't be there, and she couldn't tell him about it, either. She shook her head as she doubled back in the next room over and back to the kitchen to sign the card and to speak to Belinda. Lucky for her, Chuck had left the room so she stood there alone with her eye on the tags on each of the presents upon the table. Sam strode up to her with the warmth still fresh in her face.

“I need you to slap me across the face,” she said to her.

“Why?” Belinda laughed.

“I’m having—thoughts,” she stammered, even though they were alone in the room.

“Having what?”

“Thoughts. About… both Joey and Alex.”

“Like… what do you mean?”

Sam leaned in closer to her face and hunched her shoulders a bit.

“Thoughts,” she breathed right into her ear. Belinda looked on at her with a bewildered expression plastered on her face, and then her eyes lit up.

“Really? Sam, you little vixen! I knew you had it in you!”

“Yeah, but—Joey's kinda my boyfriend, though.”

“So? Just 'cause you got a boyfriend doesn't mean you have to restrain yourself to him. Live and let live a little.”

She sighed through her nose. Maybe Belinda had a point as she wrote “happy 19th birthday, Alex—with love, Samantha” at the bottom right corner of the card. Nothing fancy, nothing more, nothing less. She hoped that something would in fact happen that evening as she made her way back towards the front door for a bit of fresh air.

She recognized Frank's lush dark hair as he all but stumbled in through the front door.

“Easy there, big fella!” she declared to him, and he burst out laughing at that. She turned to the side and she almost ran into something slender but soft.

“Oh, hi,” she greeted Joey, much to her surprise.

“Hi,” he returned the favor and showed her a grin all the while.

“I didn't think you'd be here,” she confessed.

“I ain't turning down free food, y'know,” he told her.

“Okay, that makes sense.”

Joey peered over his shoulder for a second, and then he returned to her.

“I've been thinking of your lips lately,” he confessed to her in a husky voice.

“It's funny, I, uh—I have been, too,” she said. He lowered his gaze to her mouth and he moved in closer to her.

“Um—Bel and I made something for you—for your birthday coming up here,” she sputtered.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, you just—you just might like it.”

He showed her a little smirk: and she brought her eyes back down to those dark lips. She needed to kiss them. She needed to do something right there lest something happen there in the house that would wedge them apart. She closed her eyes and she leaned in closer to his face.

“Sam?” Marla called her. She opened her eyes and she stared on at Joey's face: his brown eyes gazed back at her, as rich and full as the earth underneath them.

“You're being paged,” he whispered to her. She turned around right as Marla emerged from the kitchen.

“Could you get Marsha, please? She's in the back of the house.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sam returned to Joey, who still showed her that smirk on his face.

“I'll be right back,” she vowed to him.

“I'll be waitin' for ya,” he vowed back to her, complete with a wink. She rounded him and headed towards the back of the house. She was about to head into that corridor there when the back door swung open before her. Greg bowed in first, and then Alex followed suit. He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Oh, hi,” she greeted him.

“Hi—what're you doing?” he asked her with a grave look on his face.

“Oh, just—talking with Joey and now I'm getting Marsha.”

“Oh, I see.” He never changed his expression for a second, but she knew what he was thinking. She dropped her gaze to those lips and then to his neck and that prominent Adam's apple. She brought her attention only to his face instead and the puzzled expression there.

“Are—you alright?” he stammered.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just—I just—'scuse me—”

“Yeah, of course,” he assured her with a puzzled look on his face. She bowed into the back room there, where Marsha looked over something on the desk. She raised her gaze to Sam.

“Marla wants you in the kitchen,” she told Marsha.

“Cake's probably ready,” she replied to her with a twinkle in her eye.

Sam nodded and then she returned to the hallway, where Alex had gone off to somewhere else in the house. Indeed, she headed over to the back door, where Aurora was about to take her seat on the step there. It was almost too much to bear right there. She needed to get out of that house because the thought of Joey and Alex getting into it at the latter's birthday party was almost too much to bear for her.

“I need you to cover me,” Sam quipped, and Aurora looked on at her, stunned.

“Cover you in what?”

“No, cover for me,” she corrected her.

“Yeah, cover you in what?”

“Aurora!”

“What?”

“Cover for me. Keep people busy. If they ask about me, tell them that I had to run next door real quick.”

“Why would I say that?”

“Because you’re my best friend.”

“Well, yeah, but really why would I lie to people about where you went?”

“I thought you were only a few weeks pregnant?”

“I am! But what’s that got to do with it?”

“Ugh, never mind.” But before Sam could do anything more, Marsha surfaced from the room there and she gestured for Sam to follow her into the kitchen. Indeed, she helped Marsha decorate the long rectangular sheet cake, in particular the “happy 19th birthday, Alex” right in the middle with the royal blue icing.

“Dunno if Zelda's going to be here,” Marsha confessed to her as she finished the piping of the roses at each of the corners, “she said she probably won't make it because I guess the girls are hard at work right now in the studio—but let's get this sweet little party started, though.”

Sam struck the match and lit the wicks of the candles.

Alex had taken his seat at the head of the dining room table with a small white party hat atop his head: the little sliver of gray poked out from underneath the edge, and his face turned a soft pink with being put on the spot as Marsha set the cake down before him.

“What do you wish for more than anything in the world?” Louie asked him, and Alex turned his gaze to Sam at his right. He squinted his eyes at her, but he never said anything. He then leaned forward and blew out the candles in a single breath. The wisps of smoke faded into nothing before their faces as Belinda and Scott both clapped their hands in unison. He offered to slice the cake but Marsha insisted.

She handed him the first slice of vanilla and raspberry cake, and then everyone else followed suit.

“Wanna open your presents, young man?” Jon called from the far side of the room.

“Yes please,” Alex called back, “my parents are gonna wanna know what they got themselves into here...” His voice trailed off. Sam watched him dig into his cake, small bite after small bite. He ate slowly: indeed, she found herself doing the same thing. It was delicious cake after all. But she wondered what he had wished for before he blew out the candles.

Granted, if he talked about it, then it wouldn't come true. But it still made her curious nonetheless.

Jon handed him Chuck, Eric, and Frankie's gifts first, followed by that small square black and white box. The first thing he did before opening each of them was put the bows on his chest. He read the labels carefully right before hand as well, and he was careful to unwrap them as well with a sliding of his fingers under where the paper ended and the tape started, and so he peeled the paper off as opposed to tearing it apart. A new tuner from Chuck and Eric both, a Gary Moore shirt from Greg and Louie both which warranted a look of surprise from him.

“Wow, where'd you guys get this?” he asked Greg.

“Thrift shop. Lou found it when he and I were looking for new boots for ourselves, and I was like, 'dude, yes! He loves Moore!' So I got that for a nickel.” He neatly folded the shirt and placed it on the table next to him, and then he turned to that square box.

“From Samantha and Belinda,” he stated, and he opened the box.

“Miss Shelley and Miss Grimes,” Jon followed up as he headed back into the kitchen once more.

And Alex's face lit up at the sight before him there.

“Oh, wow!” He held it out from the box, and he looked on at that clean creamy white leather with his mouth agape.

“What is it, a belt?” Scott asked them.

“A guitar strap!” Sam corrected him. “A little bit of leather work from both me and Bel here.”

“This is gorgeous!” he declared as he held the strap before him and his eyes caressed over the design of the tulips and the sugar skulls. “Oh, and it's adjustable, too! This is absolutely beautiful, ladies—thank you!” Sam put her arms around him first, and then Belinda followed suit. He had a slender little body and yet he was as soft as childhood.

“Got our work cut out for us now,” Charlie confessed to Scott in a not so low voice.

“I know, right?” Scott retorted with his eyes squinted.

But Alex was more than happy to have it all around him for the time being, especially by the time Aurora took a step next to him.

“Now, I hate to draw the spotlight away from the birthday boy here,” she began, “but I wanted to tell you all that Emile and I are pregnant.”

“Aw!” Marsha called from the kitchen.

“We thought we were when we were over in England last month, but—it's official now!”

“Start of a new chapter in life and the start of a new life,” Scott declared as he raised his glass to them, but then again, Alex bowed his head a bit at that. Today was his day after all, and for Sam, that was oddly selfish of Aurora to do that to him. This was the second thing she had done that seemed so unlike her, at least for as long as Sam had known her. Thus she reached her hand towards him, just as Aurora began conversing with Marsha, Emile, and Scott about something.

“Happy birthday, though, Alex,” she told him as he took a sip of his sarsaparilla.

“Thank you,” he replied to her with a serious look on his face, “and yeah, thank you, everyone!” That warm blush returned upon his saying that. “When I'm done with my cake and my drink, I'm gonna call my dad and tell him that life is good right now.”

Indeed, he turned his attention back to Sam for a moment.

“And I go upstate for a whole week.” When he said that, he glanced across the table for a second. She followed his gaze and there was Joey at the far end. She sat closer to Alex than she was her own boyfriend; she then climbed to her feet and she strode on over to him as he finished the rest of his cake.

“Hi,” she greeted him, and he brought a napkin to his lips. Chuck burst out laughing at something and thus he moved his head in closer to her.

“Wanna do sump'n this weekend?” he offered her in a low voice.

“Up by your place?” she asked him.

“Your place and then mine,” he corrected her.

“I'd love to,” she replied in a low voice.

“I'll pick ya up after school,” he told her as he finished the last few bites of cake. Sam wondered exactly what he had in mind as she made her way back to her spot in between Belinda and Alex for the time being.

[merlins-tits]

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Nora Holleran, Percy “Pez” Okonjo, June Claremont-Diaz, Shaan Srivastava
Additional Tags: Boys In Love, minor pez/june, past nora/alex, henry is jealous, Alex is stupid, POV Henry
Summary: The New Year’s Eve party but from Henry’s point of view. UM so I might have wrote the one New Year’s Eve party scene from Henry’s point of view because I couldn’t get it out of my head. The link is there but I’ll also just post it here, too. This is my first writing piece ever. Also I used most of the same dialogue from the actual scene but all credit goes to the wonderful Casey McQustion. These are their characters and they have all rights! A strong, deep bass rumbled from the speakers as Henry stumbled through the crowd searching for Alex. It had gotten to the point where he was on the verge of giving up when he spotted him. Alex was with two girls: Nora at his back with her arms wrapped around a small girl who looked vaguely familiar. Alex, though, had his head thrown back, laughing like someone had just told him the world’s best joke, his whole body alive with movement. It was intoxicating enough that Henry took a deep breath before sidling up next to him. He looked around to see people with their hands in the air, hands on someone’s waist, around someone’s neck, wrapped around a drink. Looking down at his own hands, he tried to copy those around him without looking completely prattish. Spoiler. It didn’t work. “You don’t dance?” Alex says, watching him. “No, I do,” Henry says. “It’s just, the family-mandated ballroom dancing lessons didn’t exactly cover this?” The last few words of his sentence come off as more of a question than a statement. “C’mon, it’s, like, in the hips. You have to loosen up.” Alex replies. He then does the unthinkable: he puts his hands on Henry’s hips and it’s all Henry can do to not tense up. By the look on Alex’s face, he thinks he’s failed. “That’s the opposite of what I said.” “Alex, I don’t–” “Here,” Alex says, moving his own hips, “watch me.” Henry feels the warmth creeping up the back of his neck, takes a gulp of his champagne, and says in what he hopes to be a level tone, “I am.” The song crossfades into another buh-duh dum-dum-dum, dum-duh-dum duh-duh-dum– “Shut up,” Alex yells, looking as though Christmas had come early. “Shut your dumb face, this is my shit!” He throws his hands up in the air as Henry stares at him blankly, and around them, people start cheering too, hundreds of shoulders shimmying to what Henry later learns to be “Get Low” by Lil Jon. “Did you seriously never go to an awkward middle school dance and watch a bunch of teenagers dry hump to this song?” Alex looks up at Henry as he stares back with wide eyes, clutching his champagne glass like a lifeline. “You absolutely must know I did not.” Alex turns to where Nora was standing a few feet away and snatches her away from the girl she was flirting with. Absently, Henry realizes that he recognizes this girl from the recent Spider-Man movie. “Nora!” Alex shouts, bringing Henry’s focus back to him. But honestly, when is he not focused on Alex? “Nora! Henry has never watched a bunch of teenagers dry hump to this song!” Nora stumbles and her face becomes so shocked that Henry fears that he’s done something wrong. “What?” she exclaims. “Please tell me nobody is going to dry hump me,” Henry says, bewilderment written all over his face. “Oh my God, Henry,” Alex yells, seizing Henry by one lapel as the music pounds on, “you have to dance. You have to dance. You need to understand this formative American coming-of-age experience.” Henry feels his willpower dwindling when he realizes just how close Alex has pulled them together. He doesn’t even think that Alex meant to, but suddenly, Henry is all too aware of the feeling of Alex’s body pressed against his. He thinks he might do something extremely stupid when Nora grabs Alex, pulling him away from Henry and spinning him around, her hands on his waist, and starts grinding with abandon. Alex woops and Nora cackles and the crowd jumps around and Henry just gawks at them. He lets out an indignant snort when he hears the lyrics for the first time. “Did that man just say ‘sweat drop down my balls’?” Alex is breathtaking, sweat on his brow, laughing hysterically, bent over grinding his ass against Nora’s front. She starts thrusting against Alex, smacking his ass on time with the beat of the song and Henry is sure he’s only seen this happening in movies. Henry rips his eyes away from the scene in front of him only to see Pez a few feet away bending over to the front and touching his toes. Alex sees it too and laughs even harder at Henry’s face. He accepts a shot from a passing tray, throwing it back and getting back to his dancing. He pouts his lips and shakes his ass, and even though Henry cannot fathom why his body starts reacting without him telling it to, his head starts to bop. "Fuck it up, vato!” Alex yells, and Henry laughs despite himself and hips start to move in a little baby shake. “I thought you weren’t going to babysit him all night,” June whispers to Alex as she twirls by, though it comes off as more of a shout. “I thought you were too busy for guys,” Alex says, nodding behind her. Henry looks over his shoulder and sees Pez watching June with a little grin on his face. He turns back around in time to see June throw Alex a wink before she’s off again. From there, Henry can’t find it in himself to care about how ridiculous he might look. He’s had too much to drink and there’s music he vaguely recognizes as early 2000s blasting from the speakers. He’s drinking champagne directly from the bottle and his willingness to dance likely has to do with how close Alex is and the fact that he can’t quite keep his hands to himself. Henry thinks he might explode. He watches Alex continue to grind against Nora and in the back of his head he hears a whisper that sounds a little bit like Pez saying “you wish that was you, huh?” The staring contest he seems to have started with Alex lasts well up until midnight, laughter bubbling out at random, wide smiles that they both can’t quite keep off of their faces. The countdown to the new year starts as they huddle up in their own little group, arms wrapped around each other, swaying slightly due to how much they’ve all had to drink. Henry thinks everything is going well until the countdown hits one, everyone screams “Happy New Year” and he sees Nora sling her arm around Alex’s neck and kiss him sloppily on the mouth. As they pull out of the kiss, Nora bites Alex’s lip and messes up his hair as he laughs. He opens his eyes and looks straight at Henry. Henry fights to keep his emotions off his face, he’s trained in it. It’s hard considering the jealousy rising up and he’s certain he must be green with it. Alex’s smile grows wider when he registers Henry’s expression, so Henry lifts the bottle of champagne up to his mouth, takes a hearty gulp, turns and walks through the crowd away from two-thirds of the White House Trio. Henry finds himself in the Garden without even registering how he got there and how long he’s been there. He slowly walks up to a tree and looks up into the sky. He’s so numb from the alcohol that he doesn’t care how cold it is. The only way he knows that he maybe should be wearing a jacket is when he breathes out and sees little puffs of steam in front of his face. He’s been out there for God knows how long when he hears a curse as someone stumbles over a bench behind him. “What’re you doing back here?” Alex says, trudging up to stand next to him under the tree. Henry squints down at him trying to focus on Alex’s face. It doesn’t work. It’s still blurry. Still beautiful. Whatever. “Looking for Orion,” he settles on saying. Alex huffs a laugh, looking up into the sky. Henry realizes his excuse must sound silly when he looks up as well and sees Alex fighting back a smile. The sky is not clear. It’s full of fluffy white clouds. “You must be really bored with the commoners to come stand out here and stare at the clouds.” “‘m not bored,” Henry mumbles. “What are you doing out here? Doesn’t America’s golden boy have some swooning crowds to beguile?” He means for it to come out harsher than it sounds. He hopes Alex doesn’t recognize the fondness in his voice. “Says Prince fucking Charming,” Alex answers, smirking. Henry frowns up at the clouds. He’s not sure if he likes that Alex compared him to a beautiful prince or if he’s disappointed that he is anything but. “Hardly.” His knuckle brushes the back of Alex’s hand at their sides, a little zip of warmth in the cold night. Henry feels it in his whole body. From the corner of his eye he can see Alex looking at him. The garden is quiet. It makes Henry uncomfortable. “You really didn’t answer my question, though,” Alex notes. Henry groans, rubbing a hand across his face. “You can’t leave well enough alone, can you?” He leans his head back. It thumps gently against the trunk of the tree. “Sometimes it gets a bit…much.” Alex keeps looking at him. He shifts, leaning back against the tree too. He nudges their shoulders together and Henry feels the corner of his mouth twitch at the contact. He tries to keep his smile down. He’s probably failing. “D’you ever wonder,” he says slowly, “what it’s like to be some anonymous person out in the world?” Alex frowns. “What do you mean?” “Just, you know,” Henry says, trying to find the right words. “If your mom weren’t the president and you were just a normal bloke living a normal life, what things might be like? What you’d be doing instead?” “Ah,” Alex says. He stretches out one arm out in front of him, makes a dismissive gesture with a flick of his wrist. “Well, I mean, obviously I’d be a model. I’ve been on the cover of Teen Vogue twice. These genetics transcend all circumstance.” Henry rolls his eyes, fighting to keep a fond smile off of his face. “What about you?” Henry shakes his head ruefully. “I’d be a writer.” Alex gives a little laugh. “Can’t you do that?” “Not exactly seen as a worthwhile pursuit from a man in line for the throne, scribbling verses about quarter-life angst,” Henry says dryly. “Besides, the traditional family career track is military, so that’s about it, isn’t it?” He bites his lip, and his brain supplies the words I’d date more, probably, as well. It takes him a moment to realize he’s voiced his thoughts when Alex starts laughing. “Right, because it’s so hard to get a date when you’re a prince.” Henry looks down at Alex. “You’d be surprised.” “How? You’re not exactly lacking for options.” Henry looks at him. He thinks there’s a twinge of jealousy in Alex’s voice and he hopes it’s not wishful thinking. It’s probably what gives him the courage to say, “The options I’d like…” dragging the words out, trying to hint at what he’s trying to say. “They don’t quite seem to be options at all.” Alex blinks. “What?” And Henry’s infatuated with him even more. “I’m saying that I have…people…who interest me,” Henry says, turning his body toward Alex now, speaking with a fumbling pointedness. Alex still looks entirely too confused and it’s endearing. “But I shouldn’t pursue them. At least not in my position.” “I still don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Alex says. Henry wants to punch him. “You don’t?” “No.” “You really don’t?” “I really, really don’t.” Henry grimaces in frustration, looking up to the sky wishing there was something up there to please knock some sense into Alex. He straightens. “Christ, you’re about as thick as it gets,” he says, and he grabs Alex’s face in both hands and kisses him. Alex freezes, and for a split second, Henry wonders if he’s read Alex all wrong. Then he feels Alex lean into him and Henry almost sighs in relief. His mouth slides against Alex’s, opens, and his tongue brushes against Alex’s. It’s wonderful and warm and everything Henry had hoped for. Probably even better. Oh. Definitely better. One of Henry’s hands finds its way into Alex’s hair and grabs it at the roots at the back of his head. Alex makes a small noise in the back of his throat and that’s when Henry realizes just what he’s done. He pulls away roughly, enough that Alex staggers back, eyes glazed over, the beginnings of bewilderment etching across his face. Henry mumbles a curse and a series of apologies, holding up his hands as he backs away. Eyes wide and heart in his throat, he turns on his heel and rushes out of the garden, leaving Alex standing in the snow. When he reaches the portico, he looks back and sees Alex start to come back to himself, touching his lips and beginning to make his way toward the White House. Henry slips inside, pushes through the crowd where he finds Pez. Even in his drunkenness, Pez takes one look at Henry and he must know. It’s probably written all over his face. “Please,” Henry hears himself say. There’s a roaring sound in his ears. “I can’t–Pez, I need to leave. I can’t be here.” Pez grabs his hand and leads him to where the PPOs are waiting by the wall. He leans over to Shaan and the next thing he knows is he’s being shuttled to the SUVs parked around the side of the White House. Henry can’t breathe and he doesn’t remember walking to the SUV. Henry can’t breathe and he sees a flash of betrayal and confusion on Alex’s face in the back of his mind. Henry can’t breathe and suddenly he’s in the private jet. Pez doesn’t even ask him what happened. He looks at Henry with sympathy and keeps a worried eye on him the entire flight. He doesn’t fall asleep, he won’t when Henry can’t breathe. Pez takes a deep breath and grabs Henry’s hand. “It’s gonna be okay, Henry. Just wait. I promise everything will be okay.” He was right, like always, Henry thinks. He runs his fingers down Alex’s naked back in the brownstone they share. Henry takes a deep breath.

[oldschoolgaming]

Gary Con XI

Last year’s trip to Gary Con was supposed to be a one off, a ‘Trip of Lifetime’ but as you might have read in last year’s blog post it was an experience I was keen to repeat.  I worked hard, I saved my pennies and with the support of my ever amazing (& non gaming) wife I planned a return trip to Lake Geneva.

Sadly my good friend and travel buddy Isa couldn’t join me on this year’s trip so I traveled to Chicago on my own, this time on a direct flight from London.  

I’d planned to arrive a day early to allow my body clock time to adjust.  Asking around about sharing transport from O’Hare to Lake Geneva I got a message from a friend I’d met at last year’s convention.   Jason Hobbs was kind enough to bring his trip forward a day, picking me up from the airport and driving up to our B&B in Lake Geneva.   We made plans to head over to Madison and meet Alex Kammer, another acquaintance from last year’s event.  Alex runs Gamehole Con, another Wisconsin gaming convention held in the autumn.�� He is also a big collector of old school D&D books and memorabilia  We were able to check out his amazing collection, housed in a custom gaming space he calls ‘The Gamehole’

The Gamehole

This is a 1st printing of the 1st Edition AD&D Monster Manual, signed by Gary Gygax.

As well as books Alex also has some unique artifacts.  This is the original map of the Forgotten Realms, used to define what is now the default setting for Dungeons and Dragons today.

The exceptionally rare English module ST1 ‘Up The Garden Path’

Me, with a rare first printing of Chainmail, the ruleset written by Gary Gygax and Jeff Perren.  Chainmail preceded Dungeons and Dragons and was intended to be used in the original edition of D&D to resolve combat.  The system we use today for D&D combat has evolved from what was originally intended to be the ‘alternate’ rules for folk who didn’t own a copy of Chainmail!

We got back to our B&B around 10pm, but my body clock wasn’t fooled, it knew it should be 4am and I’m sure I entertained Hobbs with some pretty hard core snoring on the drive back!

Now I’m a believer that if you do something twice it becomes a tradition so on Wednesday we met up with Bruce Heard for our now traditional pre Gary Con lunch, at the ‘Next Door Pub’  Bruce is always good company and it was great to catch up with him.  I was pleased to hear his latest ‘Calidar’ product is taking shape, I’m excited to receive my copy from the Kickstarter later this year.

After lunch we headed off to the Geneva Grand Resort, home of the convention to pick up our badges and get settled in.  

We arrived a little early so I had a short wait before my room was ready.  It was while I waited in the bar watching people arrive that I started to realise that this trip really was going to be at least as magical as the previous year.  You see, the magic of Gary Con, for me at least, is the people.  Having just picked up my badge and not even rolled a single dice I was happy so see more friends arrive.  Much hugging and laughing ensued, setting the standard for the days to come.

On Wednesday evening I ticked off ‘Dawn Patrol’ from my ‘want to play’ bucket list.  Michael Bolam facilitated an awesome intro game for a bunch of newbies and despite rolling badly (winning initiative is a bad start in this game!) I survived my first game and even got my first ‘kill’

After the game I had time for a couple of beers in the bar, catching up with friends old and new before getting an early night (well, midnight?) ready to start the gaming the next day.

On Thursday morning I ran my first game of Dungeon Crawl Classics (The 13th Skull) for a great table of players, most of whom had some experience of the system.  I felt like it took me a couple of hours to hit my GMing stride but the pace accelerated pretty quickly.  The party making good progress until my dice suddenly ran hot and we finished with a TPK!

My afternoon game was the session I was most anxious about.  I was running my own adventure for ‘The Umerican Survival Guide’  and I whilst the table was full of familiar faces I was nervous running for so many creative folk!  I think it went down ok, we certainly laughed a lot and I’ve got some ideas to tweak the adventure before I run it next at the UK Games Expo.

Thursday evening was another great social night, both in the hotel bar and at the party I was invited to by my roommate. 

It was great to have a few minutes with Luke Gygax.  Luke is the driving force behind the convention and Gary Con is a fantastic tribute to his dad.  I’m sure Gary would be happy to see thousands of people gathering to play games in his memory.

“I would like the world to remember me as the guy who really enjoyed playing games and sharing his knowledge and his fun pastimes with everybody else.”

Gary Gygax

I also got to chat and hang out with bunch of other well know D&D faces.

Satine Phoenix 

Stefan Pokorny, aka ‘The Dwarvenaught’

with Jon Peterson (”Art & Arcana” & “Playing At The World”) and Mike Carr (”Dawn Patrol” and “In Search Of The Unknown” for D&D, amongst others!)

Whilst it’s great to see the new wave of D&D ‘Rock Stars’ promoting the hobby I think chatting with Mike Carr and him shaking my hand to congratulate me on my first ‘Dawn Patrol’ kill the previous night was a highlight of the convention!

Back in the bar I met up with more of the tribe, including Tom Tullis of Fat Dragon Games who produces the amazing 3D printable minis and scenery I use in a lot of my games at home.

Friday was my Birthday.  I started an epic day of gaming running Operation Whitebox, a World War 2 RPG by Pete Spahn.  It was really good to finally meet Pete and once again he had generously donated copies of the rulebook to all my players. He stopped by during the game to sign books and hang out.  I had a great table of friends new and old who worked well together to complete their dangerous mission behind enemy lines with only two casualties!

I ran straight from my own game to sit at Stephen Newton’s table for his DCC adventure.  Stephen’s a great judge and I was pleased to be back at his table this year. This was a completely new adventure to me and I was playing with a great bunch of players with a wide age range, kids through to adult.  I’ve had some really great experiences playing at mixed tables with kids recently and this game was no exception! 

After this game Stephen and I headed off to the next game, we were both playing in ‘Blacklisted in Lankhmar’ run by Jen Brinkman.

This was my first time playing with Jen and I was excited to grab a spot in this game at almost the last minute.  Normally coming to the end of 12 hours of gaming my mind and attention would be wandering but Jen is a captivating judge, and DCC Lankhmar is a lot of fun - a great game perfectly reworked to fit this classic setting from the works of Fritz Leiber 

I was planning a couple of quiet birthday beers before another early(ish) night - but it was not to be!  I certainly wasn’t expecting to have the a couple of hundred people in the bar singing happy birthday before I was presented with this amazing cake by friends Dave and Kathy.  I may have been a little drunk and emotional that night!

Saturday Morning’s game was my Dark Trails funnel adventure.

I squeezed a couple of extra players around the table for this and although I’ve added to it since it’s first outing at the UK Games Expo it’s clear I still have some work to do, but I think everyone had fun.

One of the extra players was a fellow twitch mini painter, Ali, it so good to meet her and take delivery of the minis she had painted for me!

Saturday afternoon I found Carl Heyl’s drop in/drop out Basic D&D game.  Carl is the current host of long time Classic D&D podcast Save Or Die and I loved sitting in on his game for a little while.

I had to keep my time in Carl’s game short because I’d signed up to play at 5pm in a ‘Super Secret Playtest’ with Michael Curtis.  

By the time I sat down the secret was ‘out’ and I was excited to find I’d be taking part in the first public play test of Goodman Games 5th Edition conversion of the classic module ‘Expedition to the Barrier Peaks’   This game was a lot of fun on so many levels.  I was out of my comfort zone playing a Bard and in 5th Edition D&D too!  However we had an absolute blast playing through some fun encounters and it ticked several things off my bucket list.  

Playing with Michael Curtis had been a long standing ambition - he didn’t disappoint, even when he teased me with “Do you want to burn any luck? Oh, sorry, wrong system!”  It was also cool to play a classic Gygax module at Gary Con!

Saturday night was another party night.  After my game I met some more friends in the bar.  Alex, Zach and Greg seemed to have been gaming non stop all weekend but we made time to hang out and enjoy a couple of ‘Old Fashioned’s before the unofficial ‘Cultural Exchange’ social night.  

With Jen and my roommate Jobe Bitmann

with Jim and Hayley Skatch

I did it!  Last year I failed to get all the Spellburn podcast folk together in a picture but here’s proof it can happen without incurring a Phlogiston disturbance!

The cultural exchange ran on and I enjoyed sampling and sharing local beer and food with friends, although the handful of Wisconsin cheese with Ghost peppers that I inadvertently almost inhaled nearly choked me!

As the unofficial event wound down in the early hours I noticed the bar filling up and managed to grab a couple more photos with the celebs.

Joe Manganiello - my wife is a big fan, clearly she’s just into guys who like D&D, right?  

Matt Mercer came across as a really nice guy, clearly really passionate about the hobby.

Sunday arrived with even less sleep than previous days but I was able to grab a quick breakfast bite and a chat with my buddy Victor as we walked down to our morning game.

I ran my Red Box D&D adventure ‘Return To Lion Castle’ which is a tribute to the first D&D adventure I ever played.  I only had three players - I’m assuming the other three who signed up were more hungover than me, which is quite an achievment!  We still had a lot of fun and I hope to run this one again soon.

In the afternoon I sat down with Jen, Bob, Nick and Marlene for lunch.  This is the second year Jen and I have had lunch on the Sunday so I’m calling this a new tradition too!

Speaking of traditions another one that I’m pleased to be part of was my last game of the convention.  Bob Brinkman’s ‘Dead Dogs’ game ran past midnight.  Bob once again did a fantastic job guiding a very full table of twenty (!) players through an amazing improv pirate themed DCC adventure!  I laughed so much I almost cried.  When I eventually had to hug everyone goodbye and walk back to my room I might actually have done so...

I checked out of the hotel on Monday and had good company for the day having been offered a ride back to Chicago with Doug, Stefan and co, the DCC art contingent.   We had a great pub lunch and checked out the Chicago Art Institute before I took the obligatory selfies at ‘The Bean’ 

I caught my late flight home and Gary Con was over for another year  

The memories live on and with a little bit of luck (and some hard work!) I hope to be back next year.

[onestowatch]

Say “Au Revoir” to Your Ex with PHANGS’ Synth-Pop Anthem [PREMIERE + Q&A]

If you’ve never heard of PHANGS before, you’re most definitely in for a savory treat from Nashville, Tennessee. Born and raised in the early 90s, PHANGS’ Jake Germany is not only known for his loving relationship with his infant son, but also blessing the wonderful world of synth-pop with his alternative tunes. After playing a string of sold out shows across North America, PHANGS is now celebrating his recent signing to Alex Da Kid’s record label, KIDinaKORNER, with his luscious new single, “Au Revoir.”

While the ultimate crêpe recipe may be disputable, PHANGS’ “Au Revoir” is the perfect concoction of mesmerizing vocals and captivating synths from one musical genius. What boils down to a breakup song, “Au Revoir” is PHANGS’ declaration of empowerment and a plea for us to move on from past relationships that may be stopping us from enjoying our futures. Because of his undeniable talent for crafting synthy goodness, we’re convinced that PHANGS is certainly an artist to keep your eyes on.

On “Au Revoir,” PHANGS exclusively shared with us,

“‘Au Revoir’ is essentially a breakup song. But it feels like more to me. It’s a song about taking control of a situation and moving forward without allowing yourself to look back. It’s about empowerment. It was such a fun song to write because my friend, Jon Santana, sent me a snippet of just the guitar part in the chorus saying that he worked on it with Smallpools, and they didn’t end up using it. And on the second listen to it, I mumbled the ‘So long, Au Revoir’ hook and then finished the chorus on the third listen through. It just naturally came together. I went to my producer, Brett Truitt, in Nashville and finished the rest of the song the next day.”

Ones To Watch has your first listen of “Au Revoir” below:

In anticipation of his first single release with KIDinaKORNER, we chatted with PHANGS about his mellow signature sound, impressive shoe collection, and “Au Revoir.”

OTW: PHANGS is definitely an intriguing name that makes us wonder what exactly you’re about… How did you come up with the name, “PHANGS?”

PHANGS: It’s honestly so dorky. The name PHANGS is actually from my favorite comic book called SAGA. And there’s a comet planet that one of the characters is from called Phang. I started making these songs and didn’t know what to call myself, so I decided to just go back and look through things that I personally love, which led me to rereading the entire SAGA series and stumbling upon that name.

OTW: Although you’ve only released one studio album as PHANGS, you have a plethora of singles and EPs under your belt. What’s your favorite song you’ve ever written?

PHANGS: Oh man… That’s such a hard one to answer. I think my favorite song that I’ve written will come out later this year actually. But of the tunes that are out, I’d probably go with “Nothing To Do With You.” That song just poured out naturally and super quickly. I wrote and recorded the song in about 35 minutes, bounced it, and that’s what is out there streaming now. It just feels super honest for where I was in that exact moment.

OTW: Taking your existing discography into consideration, your soundscape incorporates captivating synthesizers and mellow lyricism. How did you decide that this is what you wanted PHANGS to sound like?

PHANGS: Really, I never made that decision. It just kind of happened. I was raised in the early 90s, watching MTV with my mom, who was very young. So the synths and pop melodies are just naturally a part of me. I’d say that 90s pop is my earliest memory of music; however, my earliest impact by music was the early 2000s emo scene. So I guess PHANGS was just destined to be a mix of the two worlds.

OTW: Your first single with KIDinaKORNER,  “Au Revoir” is a breakup song about empowerment at its core. What inspired this incredible track?

PHANGS: I’ve been told (by every one of my exes) that I over-romanticize everything in my life. And it’s true. But I like to lean into that when songwriting. With “Au Revoir,” I just wanted to make a breakup song that didn’t end with sadness, like most of my earlier songs. I liked the idea of being able to recognize a shitty situation and then making moves forward without even desiring to look back or allowing it a space to creep back up.

OTW: With “Au Revoir,” a snippet of the chorus’ guitar part was presented to you, and you quickly crafted that into your own project. What does your creative process typically look like?

PHANGS: Yeah! My buddy from Nashville, Jon Santana, sent me a piece of the chorus instrumental with that guitar that Smallpools recorded, and I was obsessed. I was driving from Texas to Nashville at the time. On the second listen through, I mumbled, “So long, au revoir, there’s the door, get goin,” and then, by the third listen, I had written the entire chorus. As soon as I got to Nashville, I went straight into the studio with my friend/producer, Brett Tuitt, and recorded the entire song.

OTW: Between your recent tour with Nightly and upcoming string of summer shows with Mystery Skulls, you have a few months to decompress and spend time at home with family and friends. What do you like most about life on the road?

PHANGS: I just love traveling. I didn’t have much growing up in Texas with young parents, so touring was my only chance to see the world. I’m very lucky to call it my job. PHANGS, from day one though, is about connection. I stay at the venue every night, until they have to kick us out, meeting and getting to know every single person that supports what we’re all making together. That’s the most important part to me.

OTW: You recently tweeted: “Procrastination is the assassination of motivation.” How do you avoid procrastination and keep yourself motivated on a daily basis?

PHANGS: No joke, I think I’ve mumbled that phrase to myself nearly every day since I was like 13. A mentor of mine told me that back then and it stuck with me. I guess my way of staying motivated is to literally just look for inspiration every single day. Whether that’s inspiration for songwriting, art, love, nature, whatever. I genuinely don’t even consider wasting time, when I’m continually so inspired by the world.

OTW: Before you began releasing music as PHANGS, you were the lead vocalist of Cardboard Kids, a dynamic rock band you formed with your friends in 2013. Now that you’re performing as a solo act, how has your perspective changed on the creative process?

PHANGS: Woah, you did homework! Cardboard Kids was a very fun time where I got to learn a lot about who I was and who I wanted to be. As far as the creative process though, it still starts with me in my room mumbling random syllables into random melodies until something strikes me. The only difference is the voicing of the instruments, really. It’s still all from the same place. Cardboard Kids will always be a part of me as PHANGS.

OTW: Rumor has it you’re a die-hard shoe collector… Tell us more!

PHANGS: Oh man, yeah, I have a lot of shoes. I’ve been into sneakers since I was a kid. Since we didn’t have much money growing up, I used to trade random stuff that I had to kids in school with cool shoes. On an artistic level, I just like collecting them and admiring how they’re designed and constructed. I don’t even wear most of them. I tend to wear ratty shoes on tour, so it’s truly not about flexing that I have cool or limited-edition sneakers. It really is just that I love shoes as pieces of art.

OTW: Who are your current Ones To Watch?

PHANGS: There are so many to choose from. Right now, I’d say THE WLDLFE, joan, James Droll, Little Image, and my current obsession, bülow.

Catch PHANGS on tour with Mystery Skulls this summer!

[gautierprotectionsquad]

Sins of the Father by Sam Burns Review (contains spoilers

Book 2 of the Wilde Love Series.

“She threw her hands in the air. “It’s our Pride special, Key, what do you want it to look like? Black cheesecake with a side of blood orange sauce? You wanna go full dark for Pride?” i can name you at least 100 queers who would fucking love this.

Keagan ends up with an fbi agent? Shouldn’t be surprised bc the last book featured a cop but i thought Keagan was going to be the dark sexy badass of the book and he was going to fall for a normal dude.

Personal preference note but not a fan that other than Casey (Liam’s best friend) all of the named women in the last book are straight. I hope this changes. It always feels weird when i’m reading adult queer romance but only men are queer. Like I see even queer authors do this. You can have your women characters dating each other. TJ Klune does it. It just feels weird.

The author, Sam Burns, is a he and lives with his husband and cat. Sam. Write more wlw into this series i beg.

I did my homework so I’m actually going to read this book now. Except i’m supposed to be paying attention to my classmates’ presentation.

I love that Owen loves the cheesecake. Both Quinn boys shitted on the cake bc of the way it looks but thought it tasted heavenly.

I like Brigit but she is a little too concerned over her friend’s dating life. As an ace, I HATE those people.

“And liking guys and eating rainbow cheesecake doesn’t mean I have to like hugging people. Later!” Owen you are 100% right but how is hugging a stereotype? Bc it’s “girly”?

Jon sees the Quinns as the enemy. This series does an exploration of the morally gray, more obvious when it had Alex, philosophy major, as the pov character. It’s interesting seeing how little the fbi knows about the Quinns and interesting that Jon talked to 2 agents who had different opinions on Keagan. I don’t like that book 2 has me with another “person of the law” bc while i can enjoy copaganda in shows, I despise it in books. This isn’t complete copaganda bc moral grayness and the book makes you love the criminals but it still views cops as “good guys”.

Jon and Alex both had their soulmate at their back and heard their voice before they saw their face.

Brigit wanted him out of there at first but I think she ships them now. Yeah. The book points out how annoying it is. Calls it the “oh my god you’re gay you should date my gay friend” look. This book uses its platform to talk about the slight annoyances of having straight friends. Imma shut up now.

I don’t want Jon to succeed in his goal and honestly the story has an easy answer. B Quinn retires. He’s old. His children won’t be his successors. The business he specifically deals in dies with his retirement. There really isn’t any point going after him or putting him in jail. Just let his career die as it will. He’s old with no successors.

I like that Jon has a good relationship with his family. I like Miles. He doesn’t have any friends though so I guess the good relationship with your family thing is just so he has someone to talk to. Liam also had a good relationship with some family but he also had friends so he didn’t talk to his family in the book.

Owen may be demiromantic.

Jon isn’t working the Quinn case anymore so less conflict than before. He’s interested in Quinn and way too honest and upfront.

This man flirted with you a tiny bit once and you switch assignments and try to ask him out. Like i would expect a little bit more flirting to happen before you go that far.

I don’t know how to feel about Jon just yet...I just realized his name is spelled like jon sims. Book made the mistake of telling me he was fbi. I liked Liam before i knew he was a cop so i could set my irl morals aside for a fictional character.

One thing i like about these books which seems it’s going to be a pattern for at least the first two books in the series is the lack of drama. Two characters decide they have feelings for each other and then nothing gets in between them.

Hmm. so the fbi and Jon and Jon’s family don’t care that Jon is dating Keagan but his dad does care that Keagan is dating an agent.

If Jon finds his job boring, why can’t he just quit? They don’t respect him and limit what he’s allowed to do bc he’s gay anyway. Just quit. Make the smart move that Liam didn’t. But if he quits then there wouldn’t be any *conflict*. Except Jon’s morals. I love these books but i’m GLAD the next one isn’t going to have a “person of the law” in it.

“I know Jenna said no PDA, but as it turns out, I’m the guy who owns the place.”

Ok their date at Wildes was super cute.

Oh i forgot an ex of Keagan’s was going to cause drama. Ick. i hate ex drama.

Keagan is so cute. He BLUSH! He blush hard!

Jon’s brother is ACE!! I knew I liked him. (Em/Miles)

This book is ok but I’m more excited to read the next book. It was through book 3 that i found this series. From the description, I think Brian is a sex repulsed ace which is AWESOME. Also, it’s clear this author did their research (if they aren’t ace themselves) bc “He’s had it, and he says it’s okay, but it’s not something he cares about. It’s like doing the dishes because you’re supposed to.” is an accurate description!

I’m headcannoning miles as autistic.

MILES AND BRIGIT ARE FLIRTING. Good. i like both of them.

Ok i like Jon now. Hearing about how shitty all Keagan’s exes were makes Jon look perfect.

Oh. Apparently his dad has hated every boyfriend of Keagans. Usually Keagan would agree and the relationship would eventually die out. But Jon was the first time he told his dad to fuck off with that shit.

Jon and Keagan have good chemistry. It took a bit to get there. I think it strongly helps that this author knows how to write jokes. The lovers being able to joke with each other and make each other laugh themselves silly and smile till it hurts is a strong contender for illustrating how perfect they are together.

So is Jon not going to tell him what he found just so he doesn’t seem like a creep? It was his coworker who suggested and looked him up anyway. It would be good for Keagan to know.

I hate every single one of Keagan’s exes.

Ugh Phil. Shut up go away i hate you.

“You’re thinking about having sex with him right now, aren’t you?” Phil asked. He looked annoyed.

“No?” Keegan couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “Maybe.”

REALLY RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD! OH MY GOD Phil’S LITERALLY EATING A SALAD IN THIS SCENE!

“I’m giving you something Phil’s never had.” What? Your undivided attention?sdfrgthydwfg. (have i been spelling Keegan’s name wrong this whole time?)

Is english major guy Brian? No his name’s Javi Bennet.

Keagan’s face is so easy to read. I can’t believe he used to be a gangster.

Mickey might be demisexual. This is based on nothing except he’s been in an on again off again relationship with a girl since middle school and he ends up with one of his closest friends.

Surprised Keagan didn’t talk to Jon about the guilt he still feels over that child’s death years ago and that they never talk about his disabled arm.

Keagan is a little dumb and surprisingly too trusting but I love that for him.

Anyway, like the last book the last words were “i love you” plus for both it was the first i love you.

END.

[aion-rsa]

Christopher Nolan is Right About This Much in the WB and HBO Max Deal…

https://ift.tt/2VWg75e

It appears as though there’s trouble in paradise. Could Christopher Nolan and Warner Bros. be breaking up? The studio has been the filmmaker’s home since 2002’s Insomnia, and WB took a huge gamble on Nolan this past summer when it released Tenet in theaters during the COVID-19 pandemic. But all that was before WB, and perhaps more crucially WarnerMedia, opted to go in the opposite direction. It was before WB announced its entire 2021 film slate would premiere simultaneously on HBO Max and in theaters.

As you’ve likely heard by now, the Tenet director and champion of all things theatrical did not take it well.

“Some of our industry’s biggest filmmakers and most important movie stars went to bed the night before thinking they were working for the greatest movie studio and woke up to find out they were working with the worst streaming service,” Nolan complained with uncharacteristic bluntness to THR.

He continued, “Warner Bros. has an incredible machine for getting a filmmaker’s work out everywhere, both in theaters and in the home, and they’re dismantling it as we speak. They don’t even understand what they’re losing. Their decision makes no economic sense, and even the most casual Wall Street investor can see the difference between disruption and dysfunction.”

The immediate reaction for many—if on social media and less in the industry—has been equivalent to a daylong eye roll. After all, Nolan was the filmmaker who pressured the same studio to release Tenet in theaters, and the film’s underwhelming box office, particularly in the U.S., triggered many studios to abandon the thought of rolling out any other major blockbuster in 2020. Indeed, WB moved Wonder Woman 1984 first from October to Christmas Day as a result, and then finally transitioned to a concurrent HBO Max release.

So… didn’t Nolan help create this environment where WB is putting everything on HBO Max? Probably.

However, given the realities of the pandemic, as well as the interior realities of WarnerMedia, a picture is emerging to suggest this was perhaps the inevitable endgame for the media company ever since TimeWarner was acquired by AT&T. And the botched industry rollout that is earning Nolan’s ire has deeper risks than bruising the egos of an industry that trades in ego.

On paper HBO Max is not the worst streaming service, nor do I imagine many film lovers would agree. With its deep library of Warner Bros. and MGM classics from the Warner Archive, as well as a deal with the Criterion Collection, HBO Max has the best collection of classic Hollywood and international cinema on any major streamer, and that’s before you take into account its HBO library or next year’s collection of WB riches.

However, the streaming service got off to an exceedingly bumpy start, which might partially explain Nolan’s humbuggery toward HBO Max, and certainly better crystallizes WB’s sudden fire sale approach to streaming in 2021.

As detailed in an eye-opening piece by CNBC’s Alex Sherman, HBO Max has been the basket AT&T was planning  to put all its eggs in for years predating the COVID-19 pandemic. That vision, largely the brainchild of then-WarnerMedia CEO John Stankey (who has since been promoted to AT&T CEO) was likely the reason HBO CEO Richard Plepler resigned from WarnerMedia last year. Plepler imagined a future for HBO built on growing the premium network’s current pay cable and HBO Go audience; Stankey and new WarnerMedia leadership believed Plepler “was aiming too low” and instead imagined HBO becoming the launchpad for a streaming service that would compete with Netflix.

According to Sherman, “Stankey has dismantled the old Time Warner, spurring dozens of executives from all parts of the company to depart. He is attempting to funnel all of the company’s resources from cable, film, and HBO into HBO Max.”

This obviously placed an eye on the future, but in our immediate present, HBO Max’s rollout has been a lot less rosy. Despite all 34.5 million current HBO subscribers having access to HBO Max—which does not include those who’ve exclusively signed up for the streaming service with its $15 monthly fee—only 8.6 million have signed up or activated the account since last May. That’s less than a sixth of Disney+’s 73.7 million subscribers.

WarnerMedia’s bet that HBO’s brand would make the streaming service instantly competitive has instead left the business in a murky place, with confusion among those who actually have access to the service, and the possibility that HBO Max could become a service with a ceiling as big as HBO’s current subscription base of 30+ million customers, which in turn is less than a quarter of Netflix’s total global audience of about 167 million subscribers.

It is likely for this reason, Nolan referred to HBO Max as “the worst streaming service.” Which not so coincidentally echoes AMC Theatres CEO Adam Aron, who said in a statement last week, “Clearly, WarnerMedia intends to sacrifice a considerable portion of the profitability of its movie studio division, and that of its production partners and filmmakers, to subsidize its HBO Max start-up.”

Indeed, Nolan’s more level-headed comments to ET Online better articulated the downside occurring within the rest of the industry.

“There’s such controversy around it, because they didn’t tell anyone,” Nolan said. “In 2021, they’ve got some of the top filmmakers in the world, they’ve got some of the biggest stars in the world who worked for years in some cases on these projects very close to their hearts that are meant to be big-screen experiences… And now they’re being used as a loss-leader for the streaming service – for the fledgling streaming service – without any real consultation.”

In fact, beyond a lack of consultation, there is the threat of impending litigation. While WarnerMedia opened up its checkbook to provide an undisclosed (but large) amount to star Gal Gadot and director Patty Jenkins for Wonder Woman 1984 going to HBO Max, offsetting the loss of back-ends and residuals both were set-up to make off the superhero sequel, the company did not do the same with any of the stars or filmmakers with similar deals on 2021’s slate… not to mention business partners like Legendary Pictures.

According to Deadline, Legendary put up 75 percent of the $165 million budget for Dune and a similar figure for Godzilla vs. Kong. With Warner Bros. moving both films straight to day-and-date releases on HBO Max (with apparently no consultation), Legendary is unable to recover the loss of expected box office profits from those films. In fact, Deadline also reported that Netflix was willing to pay $250 million for Godzilla vs. Kong in a deal Legendary brokered before WarnerMedia blocked it.

Hence some in the industry have wondered whether WarnerMedia has calculated how many compensation plans (or legal challenges) they might face from profit participants on all 17 movies of its 2020 line-up. It also suggests in undergirding HBO Max in 2021, and getting its film slate out the door as soon as possible, that WarnerMedia has burned bridges in an industry notorious for delicate relationships between talent and money—kind of like Nolan’s with WB.

Read more

Movies

HBO Max Backlash: Christopher Nolan and More Filmmakers Rip Warner Bros. Over Streaming Release

By Don Kaye

Movies

Cineworld Confirms Closure of U.S., UK Locations After No Time to Die Delay

By David Crow

In the same THR piece that Nolan is quoted in—and which reports without quotes that The Suicide Squad director James Gunn and In the Heights helmer Jon M. Chu are also unhappy—one anonymous agent said the following:

“Warners was the quintessentially talent-friendly, filmmaker-friendly studio. Now Warners isn’t the first place, second place, or third place you want to go.”

Granted, WB insisted in its announcement of the shift that this was a unique “one-year” plan. But much like WarnerMedia’s shake-up of HBO leadership, the writing on the wall would suggest otherwise. Current WarnerMedia CEO Jason Kilar certainly left the door open for this becoming the new normal by avoiding a question in a separate CNBC interview about how this might affect 2022.

“Certainly this is pandemic-related,” Kilar said. “That’s why we’re doing it. We haven’t spent one brain cell on what the world looks like in 2022.”

Uh-huh.

It is easy to dismiss Nolan, especially after his spectacularly bad miscalculation that opening Tenet in a pandemic was firstly a good idea—and then that it could “save movie theaters.” It’s also easy to dismiss his digs at HBO Max as pettiness. An old school analog filmmaker who runs the risk of one day tilting at windmills in our digital future.

But regarding the actual specifics of WarnerMedia’s rushed and apparently haphazard plan, and the image it projects throughout the industry of how the company might do business in the future… he has a certain point.

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from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3a6PgMb

[yeonchi]

Kisekae Insights #8: Defining the Time War and the Parallax War

A major part of my stories revolves around the Last Great Time War. No, not that Time War between the Time Lords and Daleks, but the Last Great Time War on Earth, mainly fought by humans fighting for – alright, it’s between the Time Lords and Daleks. Many battles in the Time War weren’t directly fought between the Time Lord and Dalek factions, but they were enabled by either faction. This is the Time War I will be referring to in this series, except where stated or implied.

Another minor influence of my stories is the Parallax War. It was based on a sort of game/drama I played with a couple other friends where we were fighting an enemy named Antoni, who I later defined to be a Kaled similar to Davros. I had hoped to write a recount of those battles for Soulbound, but after putting it off due to other things, I decided to make an original story for it because I couldn’t remember a lot from those days.

The Parallax War

The Parallax War was named after the Australian children’s TV series Parallax. I didn’t watch it back in the day, but my friend did and so my understanding of the series and its elements came from how he implemented them into our games. Initially, we fought individual entities like Hackbot, an AI that went out of control and created a robotic body for itself, and Heavy Metal Monster (HMM), a “heavy metal” robot who can turn into a train and leads an army of robots. Later, when a third man joined our games, our main enemy became Antoni.

Because it has been a long time since our game ended (when we had to graduate from primary school), there is a chance that my details of it will be wrong, but in any case, this is my current interpretation of those villains. Like I said, Soulbound was intended to be a reboot of the Parallax War with the intent of recounting it, but I later decided to make it into its own thing. Hackbot and HMM were in Soulbound, it’s just that they are a bit different to their Parallax War counterparts.

Setting and Background to the Time War

Before I tell you about the Time War, I should tell you about some things that were essential for it to even be possible. I’ve told you a bit about the setting in the introduction, so this is a bit of a recap.

The setting of the personal project is based on the city of Melbourne in Australia (which just so happens to be where I live). Sometime between 1992 and 1999, the Kennett Government established One Country, Two (Naming) Systems, which would superimpose the names of places and suburbs in Melbourne with the names of places and suburbs in Hong Kong, Japan, Taiwan or even a little bit of Russia. This later extended to the whole of Australia, with states being split up and named after Chinese provinces. If Melbourne was Hong Kong, then Victoria would be Guangdong Province, or you could call them Melbongkong or Guangtoria.

Following the Dimensional Merge in 2007, the Archangel Tunnel System was established, powered by the same satellites that powered the Archangel Network. This allows people to get to versions of Cardiff, Sao Paulo, Tokyo, Chiba or northern Taiwan from three tunnels that turn off the Eastlink tollway in Melbourne. The centre of the tunnel system is in Tokyo. If you went north, you could head to Taiwan, or if you went west, you could go to Melbourne through Sao Paulo and Cardiff (one of the routes also passes through Shizuoka).

A majority of the Time War was fought by soldiers and officers born around 1998 that would graduate high school in 2016, meaning that they were child soldiers. During the same period that One Country, Two (Naming) Systems was established, the Arming Schools for the Future program was also established thanks to the machinations of individuals linked to the Daleks. As a result, preschools, primary schools and secondary schools became militarised, resulting in countless inter-school battles (like round-robin sport but deadlier). Other smaller armies not affiliated with the schools would pop up from time to time.

Following the 9/11 attacks, premier Steve Bracks (who is of the opposite party to Jeff Kennett) vowed to abolish the Arming Schools for the Future program. Following Bracks’ victory in the 2002 election, the people behind the program became paranoid and were trying to find any way they can to prevent it from being abolished. A few months later in March 2003, they manage to tip the scales by turning two preschool armies, who were in talks to form an alliance, against each other. Coincidentally, those were the armies that young Hiroki and Akari were in. The ensuing battle marked the start of Hiroki and Parker’s rise to power and conquest of the land.

Finally, when the Gonski Report was released by the federal government in February 2012, it was found that there was increased child and youth violence in Melbourne because of the program, so a bill was passed that would force the state government to phase out the program by the end of the year. By July 2012, 90% of the armies had already begun demilitarisation, but the government decided to begin a crackdown on those that had not already begun the process. It was only after a fierce battle involving Hiroki that his secondary school finally started converting their armies into classes, but by then, Hiroki had decided to leave and become a ronin.

Even with Arming Schools for the Future gone, the Time War still wasn’t over as the Daleks were still working behind the scenes to defeat Hiroki. I’ll go more into this next.

An Overview of the Time War

So, as I said, the people who started the Time War were people linked to the Daleks. In actuality, it was Akari’s relatives who started it and kept it going after schools were demilitarised. Akari is the granddaughter of the Kaled Antoni. When the Daleks went to war against the Time Lords, Antoni joined the cause as well and encouraged his children to support him and further the Dalek cause on Earth. With help from another Kaled who was sent by Antoni, they found a suitable candidate, namely Hiroki, who was known for pushing and fighting other kids at his preschool. Discovering his link to the Doctor and the Time Lords, the Daleks saw him as a target and so, they attempted to use Akari to kill him. The Daleks would manipulate their timelines so they would meet before they were supposed to actually meet in the real timeline and Akari would become acquainted with Hiroki for some time before killing him.

Of course, in order to cover this plan up, a lot of distractions were utilised, particularly the fighting between the schools. The real conflict didn’t start until around 2011-12, so in the meantime, we were left with armies fighting each other.

Following the Dimensional Merge, a lot of fictional characters started appearing on Earth, many around Hong Kong, and formed armies in order to survive in this hostile environment. Where the schools represented the armies of late-Han Dynasty and Three Kingdoms period China, the armies led by fictional characters represented the samurai clans of Sengoku period Japan. In case it wasn’t obvious, it is an homage to Dynasty Warriors and Samurai Warriors (along with some elements of Warriors Orochi).

After being charged for insubordination in their preschool army, Parker and Hiroki are assigned to the Special Unit, where they were placed under supervision. The unit was carried over to their primary school army, where Parker and Hiroki later took full control and recruited their own comrades, with Fifi and Big Chris being among the first. In 2011, Parker was able to maintain the Special Unit as an independent army while Hiroki moved to his secondary school army. They disbanded following Parker’s death and Parker never reformed it after his revival.

Some of the other samurai-based armies were as follows:

Oda Army (led by Mario, contains characters from the Mario franchise)

Akechi Army (led by Alex, contains original human characters from the Mario Tennis series)

Toyotomi Army (led by Jon Arbuckle, contains characters from Garfield, U.S. Acres/Orson’s Farm – I’m sorry, Wyatt Duncan – and the original human characters from the Mario Golf series)

Maeda Army (led by Bowser, consists of characters from the Koopa Troop)

Shibata Army (led by Wario, contains characters from the WarioWare games)

Tokugawa Army (led by Sonic, contains characters from the Sonic franchise)

Date Army (led by Dr Eggman, consists of his minions)

Takeda Army (led by Maurice Mouseling, contains characters from Angelina Ballerina)

Sanada Army (led by Ms Mimi)

Uesugi Army (aka the Salacian Army, led by the Shark King, contains characters from Sea Princesses)

Naoe Army (led by Toad, consists of various Toads)

Lucky Star armies (see #6 for more info)

Shimazu Army (consists of the Hiiragi family)

Chōsokabe Army (consists of secondary characters and also contains characters from Koihime Musou)

Azai/Asakura Army (consists of secondary characters)

Hiroki was only in his secondary school army for 18 months before he left to become a ronin when his army began demilitarising. Throughout the second half of that, new threats arose, such as the Teiro Army and Girl Power, two armies who swept Hiroki up in their conflicts. Towards the end of 2013, Hiroki married Akari, but not long after, the Teiro Army took control of Girl Power and had Akari betray Hiroki so they could execute their nefarious plans. Hiroki went on an all-out campaign to fight Girl Power with the help of his friends. Girl Power became unstoppable when they allied with other armies, mostly consisting of Hiroki’s former enemies, to the point that it took the second coming of Jesus to stop them for good. The defeat of the Teiro Army commander marked the end of the Time War on Earth.

My stories have changed a lot over the years as I’ve had to rewrite them to retcon some small things long after I’ve finished them. My main explanation is that the events of the Time War and Parallax War caused reality to be warped and certain details in time to be in flux, meaning that certain things in time could be different from the point of view of different people, different times and different universes. The Dimensional Merge, the creation of the dimensional bridge, the black hole paradox and the coming of the demonic overlord also contributed to the warping of reality, but those are stories for another time.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter thirty-one: the man in the mirror

Joey touched her hand yet again but that time he handed her the gloves he had tried to give her before. The heavy rough fabric brushed against her palm such that it tickled her.

“Put these on,” he told her, “they'll protect your palms in particular. Here—I hold the stick for ya.”

Sam traded with him as they stood still on the ice: she slipped on the glove onto her right hand and then she followed with the left hand. He then handed her the stick, but he peered down at his wristwatch again.

“We’re almost getting down to the wire in here,” he told her, “it closes at five. And even though it’s Friday, I still wanna get ya home before it gets too dark out.”

Sam flexed her fingers inside of the gloves. They felt as though they were made just for her hands.

“You can keep those, by the way,” he told her as he spread his legs and extended the hockey stick before him.

“You sure?” She was taken aback by that.

“Oh, yeah. They’re too small for my hands, and I have a couple of other pairs back home, anyways.”

“I can see you cutting up a pair of gloves and making a quilt somehow,” she confessed as she kept her eye on the hockey stick before him.

“Grind, rail, and cut it up?” he asked her, complete with a grin on his face.

“Grind, rail, and cut it up, yes!” she laughed out loud, such that it filled out the whole rink. Joey guided her back to the fence around the rink, and he let her onto the hard floor first.

“You got the guards nearby?” He let out a low whistle.

“Right here—“ She set down the hockey stick, and then she put one foot up and stuck the first one on the blade, and followed up with the other one.

“You’re a natural,” he remarked as he stepped onto the solid ground and followed suit with the guards. Joey put the stick across his shoulders as if he carried in jugs of water for them.

“Kinda dying of thirst right now,” she told him.

“Yeah, me, too,” he said. “Let’s go to the cafe around the corner, unless you wanna go somewhere else.”

“Nah, let’s go ahead in there.”

“You sure you wanna go there?” he asked her.

“Positive.”

“You sure you wanna do that?”

“Yes!”

“You sure?”

“Yes! Yes! Oh, god, oh please yes! Yes, Joey! I want it!”

He clapped his hands. “That’s what I wanted to hear!”

They both laughed and headed back outside. A bit of darkness and some deep violet clouds had swept over North Syracuse, and the cold lake effect rain was beckoning over their heads. Joey offered to put their things in the back seat of the car, and then they headed up the sidewalk to the little shop around the corner. She recognized those five heads of solid black hair against the impending darkness.

“Hey, Chuck,” Sam greeted him, and Legacy turned around to greet them. Eric showed them a big grin.

“Hey, little Sammich,” Chuck said with one arm around her.

“Sammich?” she giggled, and Louie joined in on her other side.

“Sweet and tasty like a little sammich,” Chuck added. She turned her attention to Louie to her right. He nudged a fine piece of smooth black hair out from his eyes and even in the dim light, she could make out the pain in his face.

“How are you?” she asked him.

“Doing alright,” he replied in a low voice, “nice to be back in California, I’ll say that.”

“Lou’s tough,” Chuck assured her. “He’s got a drum kit and we hopefully have a record deal under our belt now. Three years of fighting the club promoters—“

“And school,” Alex chimed in from right behind him.

“—and school, too,” Chuck continued. “But I think we got it. Although Eric is the one who formed the band after all, I’m still kind of the new guy—I just overheard it from Aurora and Jon.”

“Sounds like me,” Joey blurted out right there. “I never know what’s going on.”

“Aw, man! You’re my fellow Indian brother, too. I wanna see you rock it, Joey.”

“Let’s go inside, though—I’m dying of thirst,” Eric quipped as he opened the door in front of them. She was greeted by the warm aroma of coffee coupled with donuts and bread. Joey lingered at the door even though Sam huddled with the five men there in the warm little shop. Chuck had his arm around her the whole time they asked for cups of coffee; meanwhile, Louie lingered right to her. These five men who had been in the background up to that point all congregated around her as if they were her best friends.

“Our first fan club member,” Greg said with a gesture to her as the barista backed to the counter behind her for something.

“That’s right!” Eric recalled.

“Hey, Joey, you want anything?” Alex called from behind them; Sam couldn’t hear him there at the door.

“Any perks so far?” she asked Chuck.

“Oh, yes, but—we’ll keep you posted, though. Just ‘cause, you know. Everything that’s happened so far.” He turned his head and they watched Eric take his wallet out of his jeans pocket.

“Eric’s got it,” said Louie.

“Where’s Joey and Alex?” Greg asked.

“They—“ Sam was cut off by Joey shouting outside. They all turned to the front door: Joey was shouting something at Alex.

“What the hell?” Eric stammered.

“Oh, jeez…” Chuck let go of Sam and he hurried to the door. Eric continued to pay, but the five of them hurried outside. Alex backed up to a patch of grass next door to the shop.

“Joey!” Chuck shouted, but it was too late.

Joey shoved Alex to the patch of grass and everyone gasped at that. The bottom of his shirt lifted up and revealed a part of his soft stomach but before he could fix himself, Joey shoved him down to the grass again.

“Joey!” Sam shrieked.

“Hey, take it easy, man!” Alex yelped. “I don't want any trouble.”

“Joe, he's still just a child, let him go!” Chuck joined in.

“My ass on his head,” he sneered. “He's not a child, Chuck, he's eighteen—” And he stared down at the young man laying on the grass. Alex gazed up at Joey, and the street light shone on the side of his oval face to where it resembled to a little full moon. The pearl of gray over his forehead looked to be growing, or maybe it was just Sam's imagination tricking her given the sun shone upon his whole crown of black hair. His full lips were smooth and the tip of his nose seemed to have a sharp point to it. He was like the Jewish version of Joey, especially with the black curls.

Joey himself pressed his hands to his hips as he stood over Alex's body.

“You wanna repeat that?” he demanded.

“It's—It's—It's not a bad thing,” Alex sputtered as he lifted his hands up. “I don't want any trouble, man, come on!”

“Joey, don't do this to him,” said Sam with a wave of her hand; she ran up to him.

“Yeah, man, calm down,” Eric joined in.

“I am trying to learn guitar, you little twerp,” Joey scoffed. “Judgey little twerp.”

“You got all the time in the world, though,” Alex pointed out, “come on, man—I don't wanna fight!”

“Joey, come on!” Sam lunged for him.

“I don't,” Joey said with his hand still raised, but she yanked him away from Alex, and Eric and Chuck helped him up from the grass. Sam led Joey away from there and they rounded the far corner so they were out of earshot.

“Ow—ow, ow, ow! You're hurting me!” Sam then whirled around and clasped onto his shoulders.

“Leave him alone,” she scolded him. “Don't ever do that again, you understand me?”

“Yes, ma'am, of course.” He knitted his eyebrows when he said that, as if it hurt him to say that. Indeed, she noticed the wounded look on his face. She relaxed her grip on his shoulders, and slid her hands down his arms.

“Joey—is there something you want to tell me?”

He shifted his weight. There were so many things that he had on his shoulders and yet she wondered how many people even listened to them in the past.

“It's okay,” she assured him in a gentle voice. “If there's one thing I can take away from being with Cliff, it's that dudes are bad with emotions.”

“Yeah, we are. Especially me.”

“But it's okay, though,” she persisted as she caressed the upper part of his arms. “You can tell me. And I'll tell you what—you can tell me anything.”

Joey shifted his weight and closed his eyes. But she stayed still and she allowed her fingers to do the talking with him. He then sighed through his nose, and he shook his head.

“I'm sorry, it's just—” he began in a low voice, “—kind of a wound of mine. I keep getting pushed into doing that. I keep getting forced into that.”

“What, into learning a new instrument?” she asked him; she stifled a chuckle because it sounded so absurd to her.

“Yes.”

“Why'd you freak out then?” she demanded.

“Because it's—it's kind of a touchy issue for me.”

“Why?” she asked as she set a hand on his shoulder.

“I always feel like I can do it but when I actually do it, I can't. It's like my hands and my brain don't really match up.” He then lifted his gaze to her. “But I do have rhythm, though.”

“You've got the rhythm within you so well!” she declared.

“Well, I'm just here to have a good time, too,” he continued. “I wanna have fun. If I ain't havin' fun, nobody is.”

“Well—who's to say Alex doesn't have fun, though?” she pointed out.

“I dunno—the kid's eighteen and yet he acts like he's twice that age. Too serious. When I was eighteen, I was goin' around clubs in upstate New York and bangin'. The drums of course.”

“Riiiight,” she teased him, and that brought a laugh out of him.

“But—yeah. I was going out and having fun in life 'cause I realized I was an adult and I could do whatever I wanted. He's too serious.”

“He's—studious, I would say,” Sam corrected him. “Nothing to get worked up over, though, Joey. I promise to you.”

“I hope you're right,” he said. “But anyway, let's get ourselves a couple of drinks, what do you say?”

“As long as it's not alcoholic,” she pointed out.

“Of course, of course! I mean, it’s a coffee house. It ain’t gonna be alcoholic.” He then put his arms around her and she rested her chin on his shoulder. “I also can't believe I wasn't able to get to know Cliff more,” he whispered right into her ear.

She sighed through her nose.

“I can't believe all of you didn't, either,” she replied back, also in a whisper. They let go but she kept a hand on his back as they walked back to the restaurant. Alex stood there outside the front door with a wounded look on his face. It was hard to even be mad at him because he wanted Joey to do better. He looked on at Sam as if he was ready to burst into tears right there; he brought a hand to his chest as if something hurt him.

“Please tell your boyfriend to take it easy on me,” he grumbled as he brushed off his chest. And then he glared past her to Joey. “Seeing as I'm just a child and all.”

“Hey, don't push it with me, you little shit,” Joey threatened him, and Sam put herself between in them.

“Alright, that's enough,” she told him in a firm voice; she looked back at Alex and the cold, serious look on his face. She could only assume that same agony with him, especially since she heard it from his mouth when he sat there on the step with Lars. “Okay, we're all hurting right now because tour life sucks and according to Frankie, most of you didn't really get the time to grieve over Cliff. But do what you have to do without wanting to kill each other, though. You can do it. Every last one of you can do it.”

“Do it and then kill each other,” Joey said in a singsong voice; she knew he was joking but it wasn't the best time for that.

“I said that's enough,” she spat at him through gritted teeth, and Joey pursed his lips together. She then turned to Alex, who scowled at the both of them. Beyond him stood Legacy's white van posted at the street corner. She spotted Greg and Louie both climbing into the back section: the former had a pair of coffee cups in hand. “You better get going—your van's leaving. Or, they might just be going where it’s warm. I dunno what’s going on.” He stared at her with those cold, deep eyes: she swore the sliver over his forehead changed colors upon his change in mood. He glared at Joey, who kept his hands pressed to his hips as if he threatened him with something more, and he returned to Sam with a slight raise of his dark eyebrows. It was only for a split second, but his face softened right there for her.

He nodded at her and then he doubled back to the corner. She watched his long black curls trail behind him like the arms of an octopus. He said it himself, he didn't want any trouble. Joey didn't, either, but the trouble was too deep with him.

“What the hell is his problem?” Joey fumed once Alex was out of earshot.

“He's a young smart guy who just turned eighteen and just got out of school,” Sam explained, curt.

“Why are you defending him?”

“I'm not. Joey, I'm here to help you deal with the problems you have, not babysit you or fix you. And it starts with you dropping this moody horse shit and being nicer to him. Alex might be legally an adult, but he's still a teenager, and a teen who lives at home. You're always kind to fans and you're kind to me—why can't you be nice to him?”

Joey folded his arms across his chest and then Sam rolled her eyes at him. The man who taught her to be assertive needed a bit of nudging himself. He was so sweet to her on the hockey rink but this was something totally different than what she was used to seeing. She nibbled on her bottom lip as she searched for the right words. He was there for a good time, but he didn't seem like it at that point.

“Figure it out for yourself,” she ordered him, albeit with a bit of a shake to her voice. “I'm getting something to drink.” She then strode away from there with her head held high because she nudged Joey into himself.

But then she realized she nudged him into himself.

“I'm jealous,” he blurted out, and his upstate accent echoed over the pavement. She stopped and turned back to face him.

“You're jealous?” she repeated, to which he nodded. “Of who? Alex?”

Joey nibbled on his bottom lip and then he scurried over to her even though the van had disappeared. And thus he could talk to her.

“Yes,” he confessed.

“Why are you jealous of him?” she asked him.

“Because...” He hesitated.

“Because why?”

Joey held still. Sam folded her arms across her chest.

“Because why, Joey?”

“He's—younger,” he stammered, and she fetched up a sigh. “He's a younger reflection of me.”

“Of you?”

“Yeah.”

“Joey, there's only one you,” she pointed out, and she took a glimpse at the window next to them. The reflection of the two kids in the window pane. “There’s only one you and only one Alex. No need to feel jealous.”

Eric and Chuck emerged from the shop right then with cups in hand. They both showed her smiles.

“Where you fellas going?” she asked them.

“The Zazulas’ place,” Eric told her as he nudged a curled ringlet behind his ear. “Just spent all my money, gotta work it back now.”

“I’m driving, too,” Chuck added with a beaming smile. “I hope we can see each other tomorrow.”

“Drive safe, though,” she advised them, “and me, too! I want to see more of you guys.” And they both gave her a hug before they turned to Joey.

“Don’t go nuts,” she heard Chuck whisper to him.

Joey then turned to her and he opened the door for her. They were greeted by a pair of paper cups on the counter in anticipation for them. He was silent until he thanked the barista for it.

“It's one year of Spreading already, holy wow,” he muttered as he raised the cup.

“To Spreading,” she announced as she brought her cup towards his, and they made a toast, and drank down that warm, fresh macchiato in unison.

“I have a suggestion,” he said as he held the cup before his chest.

“What’s up?”

“You’re always letting me come back to your place and it’s kind of a hard thing to do for me, just ‘cause it’s a lot of driving, you know? Why don’t you come back home with me?”

“I need my stuff, though,” she pointed out. “Like my clothes and my journal.”

Joey shook his head.

“It’s alright, I can take care of ya,” he assured her. “And I wanna make it up to you, too. I’ve been a jerk lately. I wanna make it right. I pushed a kid, for god’s sake…”

He was a hockey player and somewhere in there lingered a strong voice, a strong good man. All he needed was patience and someone to listen. Sam knew she wasn’t going to fix him, but she could still serve as a shoulder to lean on for the night, if not the weekend. She could finally be his friend for a little while.

[toomanysurveys9]

Do you ever judge people based on if they believe in God or not? no. i do not.

Do you ever brush your teeth in the shower? i’ve done that like once.

Has your printer ever stopped working at the last minute and you had a paper due the next day? What did you do? that happened with the ones at school. i either turned it in late or something.

Are you sometimes scared to express your opinions in fear of what others might think? i keep a lot to myself, yeah. i need to keep more to myself though.

Do you have a girl that is strictly a friend that isn’t related to you that you can go to? kayla.

Have you ever painted your nails on only one hand, forgetting about the other one or getting side-tracked? nope.

Have you ever tried sucrets? obviously not since i don’t know what that is.

Would you date someone that smokes? depends i suppose. like, i wouldn’t leave jake if he started smoking. however, it would irritate my asthma.

What about drinks? obviously that doesn’t bother me. last weekend jacob spent friday, saturday, and sunday night drunk.

Have you ever gone to one of those parties where everyone is falling around drunk everywhere? once or twice. maybe more. usually i was one of the falling around drunk people.

Are you “the good guy”, or “the bad guy”, or somewhere in between?

eh. i guess i’m somewhere in between, depending who you ask.

Do you ever erase the numbers off of surveys just because they annoy you? nope.

Person you like shows up at your house: you … wouldn’t be surprised since he lives here.

Last person you talked on the phone with? lady i interviewed with from the bank yesterday morning.

Do you think you will have the same best friend a year from now? i’m not sure. only time will tell. if not, i won’t have any best friend.

Do you have siblings over the age of twenty-one? jon is 23 and ashley is 22.

Will tomorrow be better than today? hopefully. today wasn’t horrible but it’d be nice if tomorrow has a job offer.

What do you hear right now? wyatt is making noises and the kid show rose is watching.

What was the last thing to go into your mouth? mudslide from hacienda i think?

Do you usually tell people when you’re mad at them? nope. i usually ignore them and/or the problem.

Honestly, how is your heart lately? could be better, could be worse.

Do you miss anyone? i do.

Are you waiting for a phone call? not really right now.

If an ex said they hated you, what would you say? i wouldn’t say anything because i wouldn’t care.

What would you do if you found out your most recent ex was in a relationship? again, i wouldn’t care.

What do you think when someone kisses you on your forehead? i enjoy it.

What do you usually do right when you wake up? feed wyatt.

Are you looking forward to anything? not really anymore.

How late did you stay up last night? past midnight. that’s all i know.

Do you truly hate anyone? close, but maybe not.

Would you ever get a tattoo? i have three and want more.

In the past forty-eight hours, have you hung out with a girl? mom and one of my sisters.

Were you happy when you woke up today? not especially. i wasn’t in a bad mood though either.

If someone liked you, would you want them to tell you? not especially no.

Would you rather go back a week or go forward? forward.

Would you ever smile at a stranger? i do every now and then.

Who was the last person to text you? kyrie?

What are you doing today? no plans the rest of the day.

Truthfully, is there someone you used to date that you miss? nope.

Have you ever gotten burnt by a cigarette? yeah. i have.

Have you ever been so bored that you started drooling on yourself? nope.

Do you brush your teeth right away when you wake up? depends on eating.

Do you have someone of the opposite sex you can tell everything to? not even close.

Want to get smashed tonight? not especially.

What time are you getting up tomorrow? i have an interview at the bank at 10, so no later than 9.

Are you happy with the choices you’ve made? some, sure. others, not so much.

Think back to last June; were you single? i’ve been with jacob over nine years, so obviously not.

How did you feel when you woke up today? i was okay. a little tired.

Have you ever made someone laugh when they were crying? i think so, yeah.

Describe how you feel right now. i’m pretty tired and frustrated.

Would you date someone three years older than you? if i were single, maybe.

Do you prefer to shower at night or in the morning? at night.

Do you think more about the past, present, or future? present and future... present probably a bit more though...

Are you okay with the life you live? there is quite a bit i want to change right now.

Could you handle living with the last person you texted? nooo.

Was the last book you read for fun, or was it for some type of assignment? fun. no longer have assignment reading.

Have you accomplished any goals you set for yourself this year so far? only 4 days into 2018, but no. not yet.

If you could go forward in time and see your life 5 years from now, what would you hope to see? job i enjoy. one more kid. own a house, or in the process. happy.

Are there still movie rental stores where you live or have they all gone out of business? there’s one. otherwise, we have redbox.

What was the last thing to annoy you or make you upset? buffy eating a stuffed octopus i had just bought wy since it’s the last one they had.

Do you think you would be a good match for your celebrity crush/es assuming you have one? Why? If you don’t have one, who was the last person you saw that you found attractive? no. i’m not attractive and too many issues.

When looking for something to watch on TV do you tend to pick shows you know you like, or try new shows that look interesting even though you’ve never heard of them before? usually what i know.

Have you ever been ditched by someone only to find them out and about with someone else? something like that.

How old were you when you had your wisdom teeth removed? i still haven’t.... i’m 24..

What is the last song you sang out loud? i don’t remember except it was country.

Where was the last job application you filled out sent to? to get into real estate. lol.

Have you ever been fired from a job? nope. i’ve only ever quit.

What do people tell you your voice sounds like? nothing.

What financial class are you? lower.

What poster is hanging closest to you? no posters.

What time did you go to bed last night? it was after midnight.

Do you watch any reality shows? not really.

Are you more comfortable with men or women? depends on the person. usually i’m uncomfortable with all people.

Do you think you’re fat? i know i am.

Have you ever borrowed money from someone and never repaid them? nope.

Do you have a pet cat? my grandparents do. i do not.

What is worse: physical or emotional pain? i think both can be horrible. i dislike emotional pain the most though.

How is your hair? static mess.

Who was the last person who called you? place wanting to set up a interview. kind of waiting to see how the bank thing goes.

How long does it take you to fall asleep at night? depends on wyatt.

How many people have you had strong feelings for in the year of 2012? one. jake.

What are you doing for your next birthday? probably go out to dinner, same as always.

Would you go on a date with someone right now if they asked? lol. yeah. cos jake does that.

Do you believe that if you want something bad enough, you’ll get it? no. usually you gotta work for what you want.

Last movie you watched? pitch perfect 3.

Who were you with? mom, ashley, erin, and wyatt.

Who came over last? alex.

Have you ever wanted to be a ballet dancer? nope.

Does your family keep tons of leftovers in the fridge? if we have them, yes.

Favourite FRIENDS character? That is, if you like it. probably joey.

Skullcandy headphones, yay or nay? sure. headphones are headphones to me.

Are you thinking of getting another piercing? Where? not really, no.

Do you love when people remember little things about you? depends who and what.

Do you ‘bless’ strangers when they sneeze? sometimes. not always.

How many phones have you gone through? quite a few. i don’t know exactly how many.

Have you always lived in the house you currently reside in? no. thank god.

Do you think your future will be a good one? hope so but not holding my breath.

[cwdcshows]

Supergirl - S5 E6 - Confidence Woman

So Horrible Boss is Shade? The Shadow?  Misty Swirls?  I'm going to go with Misty Swirls.  Sure, it sounds like a stripper name, but.....'  How Andrea (?) a member of this super duper secret organization, that she's the moment she's in a tight position she goes to blab to just any older insider?  How are the members recruited or vetted? "Ah, you found our decoder ring a box of Froot Loops, here's your gun and code name.  We're going to need you to covertly assassinate a duke, and oh, by the by, try not to tell anyone about us."

"I don't want to kill him, I want to save him."

'You've worked for her before'?  I mean, I know it's splitting hairs, but arguably Lena's worked with Supergirl, rather than for her; unless you're thinking of the summer that Lena lost her money and Kara decided to try her hand as a lawyer and decided to hire Lena to assist her in the office.  Kara, however, seems to be irritated by the slightest mistake Lena makes, until Lena eventually realizes that Kara is actually getting turned on by Lena's obedience; and over the next several weeks they explore a BDSM relationship, until one day Lena wins the lotto and buys back her company and Kara decides to return to CatCo.   And I know what you're thinking, did he just suggest that Lena and Kara enacted the plot of 50 Shade of Gray? And the answer, is no.  In fact, I was suggesting they were enacting the plot of the 2002 movie, Secretary, starring Maggie Gyllenhaal as the submissive, titular secretary; and James Spader as the dominant boss, who incidentally was named E. Edward Grey.  So, you know, completely different. Ah, a nostalgic flashback to a college encounter between two beautiful college girls; which was a memory apparently sparked by a bottle of booze.  I think I've seen this movie before; and that one also starred someone going by the name Misty Swirls.... Honestly, in a show where people can fly and shoot lasers our of their fucking eyes, I think perhaps the least believable thing this show is trying to present to us is the idea that Lena fucking Luther was a wallflower in college or really at any point in her life.  I mean, she may not have known she was a real Luther yet, and sure her mom treated her like shit; while Lex seemed to simultaneously be protective of her (I think) and belittle her (I think) - which is to say that seriously muddled whatever past  Lex and Lena had together before he was finally outed as a murderer and all the other stuff.  But what I'm getting at is, it seems unlikely that Lena wouldn't at least have friends in school or any of the other more outgoing traits we've seen her have in the present; and that somehow this random woman she's never mentioned before is ostensibly the person who made Lena the person she is today - but I guess that's where the booze comes in.... Oh, instead they're going to make this some sort of random fucking mystical quest; and this rich girl that's dropped out of the clear blue sky and known Lena for five minute is all in on finding this... whatever this is.  And based on their apparent obsession with Titanic, I assume one of them is going to die after they find this whatchamacallit; and the other will wait 70 years then drop it into the sea. Really, this is the episode they're going to use Jon Cryer in?  Don't get me wrong, I know he's not like, Calista Flockhart or something, that they would only put in certain episodes, but seeing how sporadic they used him last season; and the lengths they went to have Lex involved, but unseen, this either means this episode is going to be wildly more important or a tremendous waste of the use of Lex Luther that will probably result in him being conspicuously absent in a future episode he should definitely be physically present for. What could Andrea's father be "doing again" that involves his life insurance policy?  Surely she doesn't mean killing himself for the insurance money, because he couldn't have done before, presumably.   Wait, are they suggesting Kryptonite crashed to earth "millions of years ago"?  How would be fucking possible?  Kryptonite is supposed to be remnants from when Krypton exploded, which definitely didn't occur millions of years ago; the fact that Kara's mother is still alive is, presumably, at least one clear indication of this.  That or Allura looks really good for her age. "What would Rose Dawnson do?" Hog a floating door, leaving her the supposed love of her life to die of hypothermia in the Atlantic Ocean? #ThereWasRoom #NeverForget That's some impeccable timing, for Lena to read her book at just the right moment in the whole wide jungle, so that she follows the instructions to look down and find exactly what she needed to find to help them on their way.... Those were apparently load bearing flowers. "This is very real, I assure you." I mean, isn't that exactly what a psychedelic hallucination would tell you? Since Lena was looking for...whatever... to stop Lex from finding....whatever,  shouldn't Lena wonder if Lex had gotten there first? So Kord Industries of Earth 38 is our Samsung? Why would you overtly wear a medallion you don't want your friend to know you have; even if it's unlikely you'll run into her?  Not to mention the odds aren't terrible she'd be there, seeing as you run in the same circles.  Keep your mystical talismans in your handbag, like the rest of us. Is this the reason for Lena's beef with Kara not telling her the truth about who she is?  Because these seem like wildly different sorts of lies.  I get that Lex and their mother also lied to Lena, but I get the feeling this is going to be meant as the real motivation for her grudge. And boy, did Lena need that medallion; her life would have been so much better the last couple of years. Instead she's worked hard rehabilitating her family name and business, making more friends than she's apparently ever had before - if only she had a lucky charm.... Hey, it's Not-Ock before he became Not-Ock.  Why are you so nosy about whether this woman you don't is drinking her drink or not?  I know, I know, it's his way of hitting on her, but seriously, mind your own damn business.  For all you know she's a recovering alcoholic at a crossroads in her 10 year sobriety after her husband Jonathan left with their four kids, on account of the fact she's far too obsessed with Top Chef.  You don't know. Okay, I figured I'd wait a bit before comment on this; and now that I'm half way through the episode - didn't last week's preview suggest this was going to be an Alex episode?  They showed Alex at the DEO and everyone but her was inceptioned and she's freaking out trying to figure out to do.... This is the most boring and uneventful villain origin story since Grimace tried to kill a bunch of people....

Holly shit, apparently my Froot Loops recruitment scenario wasn't that far off.  Apparently I'm on the same wavelength as the writers and I'm not okay with that. "Take the medalion, tap it three times.  You'll know what to do." This sounds an awful lot like the message Scott Calvin found inside the Santa Suite in the Santa Clause.

Is Santa an assassin?  What exactly happens to the people on the naughty list?? Are they actually showing us an unseen backstory of Lena and Kara becoming friends?  Has it been some sort of mystery that viewers never quite understood this time; and now people at home are going, "Oh, that's how it happened! It all makes sense now..." Jesus Christ, all of this shit because of a fucking magical medallion, that for all Lena ever knew was just a myth?  Fuck you. The medallion was the only thing that could stop Lex?  What?  I mean, he was stopped without it just fine.  Sure, he probably killed a bunch more people that he may or may not have been able to if Lena had gotten the medallion and used it the way she wanted to.  But are they honestly suggesting that Lena's great plan for "stopping Lex" was fucking magic? (sigh)  They had the means of removing this guy's Borg implants this whole time and they're just fucking mentioning it now??? So what, Alex is in the one place in the entire DEO shielded from psychic attack? They really made it seem like the premise of the DEO being incepted to be the main story of this episode; and it's literally the last 10 minutes of the episode.  Which means that they knew how much of a turd this episode was and had to hunt down what could pass as the most interesting part of the episode; and it seems the preview encompasses the entirety of that footage. Man, I know Alex is supposed to be a bad ass, but damn, Brainiac 5 is a lightweight. So Lena's plan was foiled because she forgot Kara has super hearing? Jesus Christ, Lena has worse mommy issues than Bruce Wayne.

[theonewhereiramble]

The One Where I Find My Niche

For a long time I was lost in my career endeavors. I didn’t feel like what I chose to do was really for me. So I went back to consider all the things I love and all the things I wanted to be growing up. In the end, fate had its way.

Cardiology had fascinated me for a long time. After my dad passed away in the CVICU (cardiovascular icu), I felt drawn to it. I was being pulled to that atmosphere and nothing was stopping me from getting there.

I had applied to the hospital my mom worked at 2 times before. Once while in nursing school, trying to be a tech then once shortly after I graduated. I didn’t get the tech position because of my clinical schedule and I never got a call back after graduation. I almost didn’t apply to this hospital again to be honest. Last August (2018), I was scrolling through indeed to see what was out there. I do this often, just out of curiosity. When I saw a position open in the CVICU, I applied - absentmindedly. I didn’t realize what I had done until I clicked submit. I shrugged and went on with my day. The next day I got a call asking me to come in for an interview. What?? This hospital is hard to get into and you basically have to annoy them to the point where they just give you an interview so you stop calling them lol.

An interview with HR, one with the ICU director and a working one with the clinical manager later I received a call at 7 AM from HR asking me if I could start the next week. I told her I’d love to but I’d like to let my (then) current employer know and give an acceptable notice. So I started a month later.

For the first few months in the CVICU I didn’t feel like I belonged. I was getting along with people from other units when I floated. I didn’t have any trouble talking to them. But my home unit was so cliquey, so hard to break their walls down. I loved the work I was doing for the first time in a long time but I still dreaded going to work. Other than Cathy, I had no one to talk to. Cathy and I were in nursing school together so it was nice to get back into shenanigans with her but to this day our time at work together is rare.

A week after I started, Alex started. She is friends with one of my friends from high school (they met working in the ED) so she and I started talking. I had two friends now but it didn’t feel like home still. Maybe I made a mistake leaving the place I worked at for 4 years (give or take - I moved to CA for a year). Then one day something changed.

One of the RNs, Adam, just started asking me for help with turning patients and cleaning them up. Now Adam is a brilliant nurse but he’s never serious (same) and likes to lure people in with his pranks so you have to be prepared for a night with Adam or you will leave confused and mind fucked. Maybe it was the fact I could keep up with his wit or maybe it was the fact we flow really well together or maybe it was both, but that night changed everything.

He told me that I was really badass. He noted how I had an easy time with a CIWA patient when the night before the gal helping him really didn’t. He said it in a way that sounded like he was impressed and he told another nurse, Jon, about it. Jon had a horrible night with this patient too.

We even cleaned up another patient and got her up to the chair together. She said we were treating her like she was at a spa and he said it was all because of me. Then...he just started talking to me all the time. That’s when the A team was born. A night when Alex, Adam and I work is a night where things get weird. Patient care is impeccable but we goof off a lot.

I finally feel like I am apart of the CVI family. It’s like I needed someone’s stamp of approval. Suddenly others were talking to me and sharing their lives with me, advocating for me, making sure I wasn’t alone in things. It was really nice.

A coworker bond has always been among my strongest bonds. It’s different with them. We all know very personal information about each other. We’re comfortable showing every emotion imaginable, yet there’s no judgment. There’s support and understanding and just the right amount of crass jokes. I’m so happy to be apart of a wonderful work family again.

[roidespd-blog]

Chapter Thirty : MY OWN STORY

This is the end of our journey. I could have ended it with a one-two punch Stonewall-Pride extravaganza but I’m going with a more personal coda, if you’ll indulge me.

A BOY’S OWN STORY

I haven’t always known I was Queer. I guess there were signs — how I would prefer to play with my sister’s barbies than with my own construction toys. How I could be extra sensitive with benign day-to-day details or the fact that by the age of five, I knew “Pour que tu m’aimes encore” by Céline Dion by heart. “So Alex, you’re a faggot, right ?”. That’s what a schoolmate said to me during recess. I said “No”. I was 10. I didn’t know. How did he know if I didn’t know ? Is sensitive a synonym for gay, even when you’re too young to even have pubic hair ?

I started masturbated at the age of 12 and it didn’t took long before my thoughts were directed towards the male body. I ignored it and pretended it was just my mind wandering in unexpected and irrelevant places. I would do my dirty business with La Redoute catalogues, looking at the male models in underwear then switch to their female counterparts at the very end when I knew I was close. Same thing with my imagination. Penelope Cruz was my go-to fantasy beard. I was ashamed of my sexual orientation. Worst, I was ashamed of it before I could understand it. That’s the tricky part : society doesn’t teach you how to be Queer but sure makes you aware that it’s not the norm.

I didn’t know what gay was. In movies, homosexuality was always depicted through huge clichés, what I called in my articles the “Cage aux Folles” dogma. I couldn’t identify. Or maybe I rejected the notion very quickly and swore never to approach this level of absurdity. Internalized homophobia before you even understand what internalized homophobia is.

I fell in love with my first boy when I was 14 years old. He was 2 years older, not that handsome (back then) and so unattainable. I’ve known that dude my whole life. For a long time, I said to myself that one-sided love wasn’t love. I do not believe that anymore. Feeling are valid whether they’re reciprocated or not. Of the five men I fell in love with in my life, only one didn’t love me back (and another is still TBD). But he’s the man I loved the most. The pain that followed was real and undeniable.

I didn’t act on my feelings towards boys until college. In high school, I told myself I wasn’t gonna do anything with anyone until I knew for sure what I was (laugh). I turned down a couple of great girls, one became one of my closest friend in this world. There was one incident involving a girl faking drunkenness in order to inspire pity and having her ways with me at a birthday party. I was… 15, I guess. I was not into it.

A shy boy, I socially bloomed in high school due to my involvement in drama classes and a new “fuck-the-world” attitude I cultivated through a longer hair cut and a collection of converses of every color imaginable.

The day I found out I graduated from high school, I went to town with a few friends. We (barely) drank and had our PG fun. There was this boy. I didn’t know him at all as he was a friend of a friend. I was very intrigued by him and made sure to present to him what I considered my best self (mute and mysterious, I guess). When it was time to go home, we all packed ourselves in my friend’s tiny car. There wasn’t enough space for all of us so the guy was lying on floor in the back, myself in the middle seat. I don’t know what got into me, but I started putting my fingers under his shirt and caressing his lower back. Gently, like an accident. When he didn’t react, I went further. That’s when I felt his fingers on my ankle. As I got to explore more of his back, he quickly went up my pants and caressed the entirety of my leg. So erotic, you have no idea. He was the first to go home. We didn’t exchange phone numbers but he sure helped me get IT. Once alone with my friends in the car, I said “I like boys”. That was it. The electricity I felt all around my body was unchallenging. No one was shocked. No one cared. Back to our regular scheduled programs.

HOW TO BE A GAY MAN IN FOUR LESSONS (OR MORE)

The first and only real mistake was trying to define myself through my sexuality.

My first boyfriend was… let’s call him Paul. Paul was the sweetest. A very short, very elfish (not healthy, ELFISH) little dude that tried his best to give me space in our relationship to explore myself. I said tried. I was willing to lose my virginity as a bottom but it wasn’t meant to be. I became a top. Oh, but it is a nice memory. It is so rare to be a gay man and lose one’s virginity in a good way. He introduced me to his friends who found me “too country” and “fat”. Do we have to talk to each other every day ? Are nicknames necessary ? Do I love you or do I prove constantly that I love you ? Coming from a broken father/son relationship, affection towards men wasn’t easy shit. Lust, yes (though a restrained version of what lust can be). Feelings were there but I found myself incapable of materializing them the way Paul wanted me too. I broke up with him. We got back together. He then broke up with me. Back together again. We called it quits soon after. Too many variables freaked me out. I was an 18 year-old who knew nothing, Jon Snow style.

I met a couple more guys, experimented with casual dating and hookups, bottomed (wasn’t my thing). Then I met Thomas — I’m not even going to invent a name. That bitch needs to be called out. I fell madly in love with Thomas. Five days in and we said “I love you” to each other. That relationship made me come out to my mom. I just didn’t realize that I was being manipulated into loving someone. He made an effort to be extra needy and to push my Superman complex to the max. After falling for him, he told me he visited several psychiatric facilities. He tried to hurt himself more times that I can honestly remember. By the time our relationship ended, I was more a nurse than a lover. I broke up with me after he cheated on me with someone else. But not just cheat. It went from a Friday night “I’m gonna see a friend for the weekend, it’s been a while since I saw him. It’s gonna do me some good” to a Monday morning phone call “Well, he wasn’t a friend. We slept together, now I love you both and I don’t know what to do”. I made it easy for him. By Monday night, pictures of him with the other boy was all over his Facebook page. Thomas broke me in pieces. And I’m not even gonna talk about me going to the police for harassment months later. Triste vie.

That’s when I became a whore.

Not immediately. It took a few weeks of crying to go in that direction but then I was full on. I quickly moved to another city and for the next three years or so, I slept with everything with a dick that moved. Short guys, tall guys, fat ones, skinny ones, effeminate dudes, masculine cunts, three ways, public, top, bottom, ALL. OF. IT. I was unable to feel anything for those guys (some were great and deserved a lot more) but damn, did I fuck them. All of them.

I learned a lot from that time period. First, I can be great at certain sexual things. Won’t tell you which ones. Second, it gave a lot of satisfaction mixed with a sense of true emptiness. I ignored the emptiness back then but I knew why I felt satisfaction. It wasn’t the orgasms. It was a feeling that I was doing exactly what I was supposed to do AKA being a gay guy having lots of sex. I saw it on TV. I saw it in porn. I knew it to be true. I was being the right kind of gay. 22 and still stupid enough to believe it.

When I moved to Paris, I fell in love twice. First with the city. Second with Pierre. In a way, he was the best of them all. Unfortunately, we met at the wrong time. Remember, I was a whore. Not that I cheated on him per say, but the need was there. Paris was giving me so much more land to cover. I met friends that partied hard. I started taking drugs. Lots of them. Festivities would last three days in a row. Sometimes four times a week. I lost 25 pounds just by being poor and high. Meanwhile, I was living a fantastic relationship with a somewhat adult man. I moved in with him for a couple of months. He was a painter and being with me helped him find inspirations. He bought me a note book and pushed me to start writing again, encouraged me to reach my full potential. But fuck my life, I had to make a choice : domesticity with this great guy (who had already been through what I was going through) or FPD (Friends/Party/Drugs). I broke his heart and entered a downward spiral. I went back to my whoring ways. I went all races, all ages, all sizes, just… all. I even was in a weird throuple for a few weeks. Drugs were taking a toll on my health and my friends weren’t supporting me the way I needed too. Six months after the break up, I reserved course. I cleaned my act, found a new job, moved into a new apartment by myself, cleared my phone from those friends’ numbers. This part of my life taught me two lessons : That I could be loved and valued for exactly who I was and that I could throw in all away for the sake of living that sweet Parisian Gay Life.

I met Jack at a time when my life was going really really well. I had been accepted at film school, I was making new friends from work, I had a perfectly stable life and newly-found good spirit. I do believe I inadvertently seduced him by singing Taylor Swift’s Blank Space at a party. I fell hard for that man. I viewed him as the perfect specimen, the epicenter of everyone I went through in the past seven years. I willingly gave him everything : a place to stay when he was looking for a new apartment, my time, my heart, my soul. I wasn’t able to keep anything for myself. It was all for him. Although I knew from the start that I was getting fucked, I didn’t care. He never loved me. Why ? That’s for another story and perhaps for him to tell you. He didn’t leave me heartbroken. He left me destroyed. To a point where I didn’t recognize myself. I’ll say it again : D.E.S.T.R.O.Y.E.D. That’s what happens when you give so much and receive so little in return. My friends had to pick up the pieces and didn’t know what to do with them. Neither did I. I went back to whoring for a short time but this time, it got dark, y’all. I fucked the wrong people. I put myself in the wrong situations. I took the wrong drugs. I kept on wrecking what was left of me.

LIFE IMITATES ART, ART IMITATES OTHER ART, ART IS ART, LIFE GOES WITH WITH FLOW.

For the following two years, all of that cured me of love and sex. I didn’t/couldn’t want either. I focused on my work.

I started writing and directing short films that talked about love between two men (a musical fantasy), how one can destroy oneself by not accepting who one is (a one-shot suicidal fantasy) and finally, a 16-minute movie about trying to figure out your place in the Queer world (my masterpiece, easy to say, right?).

In retrospect, what I couldn’t do in real life anymore (exploring and answering questions), I did it in fiction. In Faggot (and Other Semantics),there are themes of homophobia, internalized homophobia, clichés, dating apps, sex, violence and identity. I’m not saying it’s the greatest movie of all time, but it’s good. That’s why it’s so heartbreaking that I still haven’t finished it.

I used the excuse that I didn’t have enough money. Well, no I have some money put aside thanks to my friends. I though to myself that I was just lazy but fuck, I proved to myself this past month I wasn’t. So, I’m scared to finish it. Not just having to move on artistically (though it is a big part of the fear) but also, It’s kind of the end of a journey. Well, a big chapter anyway. The movie was made when I was the most wrecked version of myself. I touched subjects that are so personal to me and felt like I finally got some answers out of my questions. Finally…well, I don’t know. I went back to thinking I’m a lazy cunt.

Since then (two years), I did something every Queer person should do : I’ve explored our History. I started making research for Faggot back in 2016. I bought a couple of books, mainly “Faggots” written by Larry Kramer and “Le Rose et Le Noir” written by Frédéric Martel. The truth is, we don’t know our History. How can we ? History tried to erase us time and time again. And when real tragedy stroke, people who couldn’t have shared this History were let to die. Unlike all of the other communities, Queer people are not born into a Queer environment. Humans from all races and backgrounds are raised and can receive heritage from their peers. Some of that heritage are in books you get to read in school. What History book talks about Stonewall ? None. We, as Queer people, are cursed with the task of reinventing ourselves generation after generation. Is it so surprising then that we keep on losing ourselves along the way, trying to figure out our identity ? I had to go and search for information, nothing was giving to me openly. I’m so glad I did.

Learning our past taught me so much about how to live my present. That’s why I started to write these articles this June. I wanted to give my fellow Queers a metaphorical anchor to throw into this ocean we call Life so that they can take a closer look at the world that came before, the one that is being built right now and perhaps, what’s to come. It’s a small gift. The best I can do with my restricted reach but here we are.

Today, I told you about my own story. I came back to it with all that baggage from years of research into my Queer Heritage. I see things a bit more clearly now. In the hopes that maybe, if you deem it necessary, you will be able to do the same.

I’m signing off. Yours Truly,

The Queer King.