#been called worse by little old ladies in the brunch line

[officialleehadan]

Taking a verbal shit on a funny post without the courtesy of a read more is peak fic wanker behaviour

You know what’s really funny, Anon? I have absolutely no idea which post you’re talking about. I looked, but I haven’t the foggiest.

So not only am I not sorry, I’m somewhat bemused. You must really have gone digging in my old posts, because I haven’t been all that active on Tumblr in years, and I haven’t done more than reblog stuff here and there in months.

You know there’s this neat feature on tumblr that auto-collapses long posts? If they bother you so much you need to hide behind anon to insult someone about it, you might go turn it on and you’ll never have that issue again.

But for my own curiosity, and because if I’m gonna make fun of someone’s funny post it might as well be the person who sent me anon hate, which post are you all butthurt about?

[shireness-says]

Playing the Part ch. 2: Getting to Know You

Summary:  As a stage manager who's clawed her way up from bottom, Emma Swan can handle just about anything thrown her way. But does that include handsome lead actor Killian Jones? A CS Broadway AU. Rated T. Also on AO3. Prologue  Ch. 1

A/N: We’re back, with my favorite Jones Brothers conversation I’ve written so far and a great Captain Swan bonding moment! Chapter title from “The King and I”.

Thanks, as always, to @snidgetsafan, my phenomenal beta. She’s the absolute best.

A disclaimer:  This chapter addresses Belle's backstory, which is... less than pleasant. Nothing so bad that there need to be archive warnings, but power dynamics were definitely taken advantage of. I want to make it clear that I'm not condoning what's happened to her, and I've tried to express that in the actual writing, but I just want to reiterate it here. Just because it happened, doesn't mean I'm ok with it, or that you have to be either.

That being said, I hope you enjoy the chapter anyway!

Tags: @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @thejollyroger-writer, @mythologicalmango, @onceuponaprincessworld, @idristardis, @teamhook, @courtorderedcake, @aerica13, @revanmeetra87, @snowbellewells, @searchingwardrobes

“... but not handsome enough to tempt me.”

God, he hates that line. Yes, it’s from the source material, and yes, it is crucial to the plot, but he always feels like an absolute dick saying it. Belle is an absolutely lovely woman, inside and out, and doesn’t deserve to hear those words directed her way, even in character.

He’s actually apologized for the way he’s acted before in character, had felt like he had to. Belle, bless her heart, laughed and waved off his apologies.

“For the record, I can tell the difference between you and your character, Killian,” she had said. “Please don’t worry about it.”

But he worries anyways. Part of it is just his nature, Killian supposes - he’s a man with a heart built for concern and mild anxiety, it seems. But Belle really does seem rather isolated, and he hates to reinforce that even in character.

He’s heard the rumors, of course - the industry is smaller than they’d like to pretend, and when word made it around that Belle French had been cast in the iconic role of Elizabeth Bennet, old gossip about the woman had made the rounds again too. It’s a horrible story, predictable in all the worst ways: young, up-and-coming actress embarks on a relationship with an older producer. Actress decides that the relationship has run its course. Actress is suddenly, mysteriously branded as “difficult to work with” and struggles to land roles.

Meeting Belle in person, it’s particularly absurd. She’s ridiculously talented and probably one of the nicest and least difficult people he knows and really, it’s not fair. There’s been an increase in accountability in this industry lately, something that’s desperately needed, but the lawyers are still focused on the things they can prosecute - obvious cases of assault and manipulation. Belle’s circumstances don’t clearly fit either of those criteria, having willingly engaged in the relationship, one she thought was based on mutual respect and affection. It doesn’t help that Gold is a major player in this game, able to affect people’s opinions for better or worse with his word alone. For the past several years, Belle’s just been left to flounder on her own with her professional reputation wrongly in tatters. For the moment, no one cares. It’s all so disgustingly unfair.

Personally, Killian thinks Belle deserves the world. He hopes this show is a massive success for a variety of reasons - selfish ones obviously included - but not the least of them is the hope that it’ll reshape the current narrative around Belle, show that she’s talented and kind and an absolute delight. She needs that. She deserves that.

Belle tells him about it herself one day over a cup of tea during one of the rehearsal breaks. He didn’t ask, not explicitly, but she must sense the confusion in his eyes and in his mind about how someone with so much sheer raw talent has been cast aside by the industry.

“He was such a gentleman at first, you know? Yeah, I was getting roles, and probably part of that was because I was seeing him, but I genuinely loved him, and him me. I knew he had a reputation for being tough and focused on success above everything else, but he always encouraged me, and was so happy when I landed roles and was doing well. So when I felt the relationship had come to a natural end, I just figured…” She pauses in her recounting, hurriedly wiping at the tears forming in her eyes. Killian tries to comfort her as best he can, digging one-handed through his pockets for a tissue as he tries to rub her back soothingly with the other. He feels so useless, so male in this situation, but he’s still determined to help and comfort her in any way he can.

“I feel so stupid some days,” Belle continues, gratefully accepting the single kleenex he was able to locate in an inner jacket pocket (and God, he hopes it wasn’t used). “I just… I should have known right away he was insane.”

Killian likes to think he’s a good friend, and a good man, but he’s also a kid who grew up in theaters and around theatre kids, and as he does his best to reassure his scene partner that she’s in no way responsible for the actions of that bastard, he has to forcibly remind himself not to smile at such a bad time at her unintentional quoting.

The stage manager, Emma, is walking past at just that moment, though, and he’s pretty sure he hears her mutter the next words under her breath, so he’s comforted by the knowledge that he’s not the only one with terrible timing and a bad sense of humor.

But again, it’s not the time to ask about it. Killian is 100% focused and committed to being a supportive friend to Belle in this moment - he’ll have to ask later. Preferably out of earshot, before they both get a reputation for being horrible human beings who laugh at unfortunate times.

But there’s never really a chance to ask later - their short break is up before he knows it, and then it’s straight back into choreography. Their choreographer, a vibrant redhead named Ariel, may have a sweet demeanor, but there’s a spine of steel underneath that smile, and Killian knows better than to dawdle. He’ll catch Emma later, he thinks, some time when he’s not needed. But even in those moments when Killian doesn’t strictly need to be doing anything but hang around and watch, waiting for his next instructions and ideally reviewing the script (it’s never too soon to be off book, after all), Swan is invariably still busy.

So Killian waits. The opportunity will present itself, he’s sure.

------

It’s been a good day, Emma is pleased to note. The sheer potential of this show is truly shaping up into something that, with plenty of polishing, just might be magnificent. There’s always going to be issues - after working so many shows, Emma has learned that off-stage drama is an inevitability - but for the most part, even the cast is obliging her by staying professional and getting along. Which is literally all she asks for. Zelena has a definite penchant to complain about anything and everything, but it’s not yet at a point that they can’t handle or that needs addressing.

Still, even a good day is exhausting in it’s own way. Emma is ready to make whatever calls are necessary (just Robin and the props guy today, she thinks), and get home. Yeah, the apartment will be quiet with Henry at Neal’s for Labor Day weekend, but she could probably use a little quiet - a chance to recharge, if you will.

However, that chance disintegrates at the sight of Mary Margaret approaching with a smile full of intent. For all her sweetness, Emma’s learned that her friend can be stubborn and determined, nigh on unmovable when she wants to be, and all the signs are suggesting this will be one of those times.

“Emma!” the petite brunette practically chirps. “It’s been so long since we’ve had a Girl’s Night, hasn’t it?”

It’s not a subtle opening at all, and Emma spots where Mary Margaret is going with this from a mile away. “Oh, I don’t know,” she tries to deflect, hoping against hope that maybe she can still wheedle herself out of these plans. “Seems like we all did something only a few weeks ago —”

“Don’t be silly,” Mary Margaret interrupts, flippantly waving a hand as if to literally shoo Emma’s protests away. “You’re thinking of that brunch date we had, the one Henry came to. It’s been ages since we had a proper Girls’ Night. And since Henry’s gone this weekend, really, there’s no better time!”

“I don’t know,” Emma tries to protest. “I’ve really got a lot that still needs doing, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it.” It’s not true in the least. The best part about a good day is that even when she is left with things on her to-do list, they’re quick little housekeeping bits, not major crises she needs to untangle. Unfortunately, after a decade of friendship, Mary Margaret knows that too, and fixes her with an unimpressed look.

“Uh uh,” she responds, shaking her head with finality. “No excuses. I’m going to find Ruby, and we are going out. I won’t let you sit at home all lonely with Henry gone. You’re not getting out of this, Emma Swan.”

Much as Emma hates to admit it - hates to admit defeat in general, really - she’s well aware that she really isn’t going to be able to weasel her way out of this. When Mary Margaret gets that look in her eye and that tone in her voice, nothing can sway her from whatever evil plan she’s devised. For better or worse, Emma will be going out tonight. She only hopes it won’t be too miserable an outing. “Fine,” she concedes, holding up a hand to silence Mary Margaret’s happy squeal. “But I am not lonely. And only for a little bit.”

“Oh Emma, we’re going to have so much fun!” her friend gushes, seemingly ignoring the end of Emma’s sentence. “I’ll call Ruby right now, have her meet us at the Grey Lady. Oh! I wonder if Belle would want to go!”

Emma groans as her dreams of a quiet evening in drift further and further away with every expansion of Mary Margaret’s plans. The likelihood of fun seems pretty small right now; Emma settles for just hoping she’ll make it out of this alive and sans hangover.

------

It’s been a long day, but a rewarding one. His script is filled with new notes, he finally isn’t tripping over the rhythms of the proposal scene song, and his feet are tired from practicing ballroom steps over and over again. It’s a pattern he’s getting used to, day by day, but the fact still remains; it’s exhausting.

Killian is just planning to finally go talk to their fearless stage manager, see if she said what he’s 87.9% certain he heard and hopefully trudge home when Nolan practically corners him, effectively ending that plan.

“You’ve got to come out tonight,” David whispers frantically, hunched over in a way that he must think looks surreptitious, but in reality just looks awkward and uncomfortable.

“Ok…” Killian whispers back. “Why?”

“Because I just heard that Mary Margaret is going to be at the Grey Lady tonight with a group of friends!”

“...okay, and?”

“And I like her!” David hisses, seemingly insulted for no apparent reason.

“Calm down, mate, jeez. What, you need an excuse to go, rather than just showing up?”

“Yes!”

“Do I have to whisper the entire night?”

This is apparently the last of David’s patience, as he rolls his eyes and snaps out a response. “For God’s sakes, no. Now will you come with me, or not?”

It’d really be mean at this point, after all the teasing, to tell him no. Killian doesn’t really have plans anyways; he’d tentatively scheduled a call with Liam, but they can always talk later and text throughout the night.

“Alright, Dave, I’ll go with you. Where’s this place at?”

“... About that…”

Excellent.

------

Only for a little bit, she had told Mary Margaret. And she had meant it; despite all her friend’s wheedling about how she’d be lonely at home with Henry at Neal’s, Emma had been looking forward to a quiet evening. Of course, that’s all wishful thinking.

Belle had been interested in joining the outing, as had Elsa, as had their Lydia and three of the chorus girls since it seemed like Mary Margaret had invited every female member of the cast. The Grey Lady has been reduced to a cacophony of female laughter and conversation as Emma desperately tries to either escape or ignore the chaos, both efforts to no avail. For the moment, Emma’s perched at the end of the bar with Elsa trying to cheer her up, purple drink in hand (a Grateful Dead, because “you can’t just get whiskey, Emma, this is Girls’ Night, you have to get something fun.” Ugh.).

“I know you don’t want to be here in the least,” Elsa tries to cajole, “but hey, as long as you’re here, you might as well make the most of it. We can play a game of darts or something if you want, that’d at least get you out of the major crush here at the bar.”

She means so well, trying to coax Emma out of the corner and out of her funk, but honestly, Emma’s quite determined to stay exactly as she is. “It’s really fine, Elsa,” she replies. “Honestly, I’m just hoping that if I sit here and don’t move for long enough, Mary Margaret will forget that I’m here and maybe I can just slip out.”

Elsa snorts at that, which is really enough of a response on its own. “Yeah, good luck with that.” Her face still turns concerned and serious when the humor wears off as she does her best to fuss over Emma. “Are you sure? I’m happy to stay with you if you want, but if you don’t…” Elsa trails off tellingly. Emma honestly feels a little bit bad. For all her introversion, Elsa really does enjoy evenings out like this when she sets her mind to it, and Emma is effectively holding her back from having fun by insisting on being a sad sack at the bar.

“Really, Elsa, I’m fine. Go have fun! It looks like they’re starting some kind of drinking game up over there, that’ll certainly be entertaining if nothing else.”

Elsa’s eyes dart back towards the other ladies longingly, but her voice and body language is still hesitant. “If you’re sure…”

“Yes! I’ll be fine. Don’t let my attitude ruin the night, I’m happy enough with my stupid purple drink. You know I like watching drinking games more than playing anyways. Go!”

“Alright, but you’ll let me know if you change your mind and want company, right?” Elsa fusses as she grabs her drink and stands to leave. It’s a small progress. Emma nods impatiently, all but ready to push Elsa towards the other women. It must be obvious on her face though, as Elsa laughs before dropping an affectionate kiss on the side of Emma’s head. “Ok, ok, I’m gone. Do try to have fun, Emma, just find someone to talk to for ten minutes. And don’t drink too much, because I’m going to need you to lead me back home!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma mutters in response. She makes no promises, especially on the socializing front.

———

The bar is much busier than Killian had expected when he, David, and Booth arrive. Killian isn’t exactly sure how the last man got invited; he certainly didn’t have any part in it. August Booth is a genial enough man, however, a perfect casting for Colonel Fitzwilliam in temperament, so his presence tonight won’t be any true hardship. If Killian had to hazard a guess, David had probably invited him for more credence to his cover story that he just happens to be at the same bar as the lady he’s interested in on some sort of boys’ night outing. It seems that the ladies’ outing may have expanded as well; while Killian had expected to see Mary Margaret and Swan, it appears half the female cast is crowded into the bar as well, Mary Margaret unsurprisingly at the center of everything, playing hostess even though the bar is obviously not her house. It doesn’t take long for her to notice their own little group’s entrance, and she hurries over with a wide smile.

“David! Killian! August! What a pleasant surprise!” she gushes. Killian is amused to see that her cheeks are ever-so-slightly flushed. Perhaps David’s little crush isn’t quite so ridiculous as he seems to think. David himself looks a little struck by his lady’s entrance, so Killian quickly takes the reins of the conversation.

“Aye, it truly is. Thought we’d go out tonight, have a bit of a bonding exercise. You don’t mind that we’re here, do you? We didn’t mean to crash whatever you’ve got going on here.” It’s a blatant lie, but Killian is counting on the brunette being too flustered by their - well, David’s sudden appearance to notice.

It seems to be working, thankfully, as Mary Margaret smiles brightly. “Of course not! We planned this as a little Girls’ Night, but you’re more than welcome to stay and socialize! The more the merrier, right?”

It’s impossible not to like the woman, really. While she’s far too perky for Killian to ever be romantically interested, Mary Margaret is such a deeply kind and pleasant person that only the truly cruel would ever take a dislike to her. “Aye, thank you.”

“Is that some sort of drinking game I see about to start?” August cuts in, likely saving them all from an encounter quickly veering towards the awkward and overly sincere.

“I think it’s more of a contest, knowing Ruby,” their quasi-host laughs, “but yes, they’re about to start. A bit wild for me, so I was about to go get another cosmo. David, Killian? Do either of you want to join me?” The invitation is technically extended to both of them, but Killian sees the way her gaze keeps focusing on David, hears the way her voice pitches up hopefully, and quickly makes his excuses.

“I actually think I might grab a beer and try my hand at the dart board, so I’ll leave you two to it.” It’s probably not the most subtle move, but David’s already shooting him a grateful look, so he supposes that his words have been effective enough.

It’s as he’s walking further down the bar to get his drink that he spots Swan in the corner, where he hadn’t noticed her when he had entered the bar, wearing a sour look on her face and sipping on something in a near fluorescent purple. Somehow, he’s not surprised to see her set apart from the thick of things; their straight-laced stage manager doesn’t seem like she’d be particularly comfortable in a chattering crowd of women. It may be taking his life in his hands considering the look Swan has on her face, but he veers to join her at the end of the bar, more enthusiastic about the prospect of spending his time chatting with her than facing the female crush everywhere else.

The skeptical look Swan shoots him as he saunters over with a charming smile should be his second warning, but Killian’s never had much of a self-preservation instinct anyways. “Fancy meeting you here,” he grins.

Swan snorts in return. “Oh, that’s what you’re going with?”

“I couldn’t possibly know what you mean.” It’s another blatant lie, and unlike Mary Margaret, Killian can see that Swan knows exactly why he’s really doing in this bar, sees right past all his and David’s excuses.

“Oh please,” Swan replies, rolling her eyes and confirming what he had expected about her ability to spot his lies. “Like you guys showing up isn’t a blatant excuse for David to flirt with Mary Margaret. The only reason she doesn’t realize it is she’s so damn smitten herself. It’s a little disgusting.”

“You wound me, Swan. It’s an absolute coincidence that we happen to be at the same bar.” Receiving a final unamused look, he collapses onto a stool, giving up the pretense. “They really are smitten, aren’t they? And absolutely obtuse about the matter.”

“Really, they are,” Swan grumbles in return. “Like, it’s so obvious they’ve got a thing for each other, I’m about ready to start placing bets about how long it will take.”

Killian chuckles. “Well, let me know if you ever do, I’d be happy to contribute to the pot.” There’s silence between them for a few minutes as Killian orders his beer, turning back to his companion once his cold drink is in hand. “I can leave you alone if you’d prefer,” he offers, noting the stormy look still occupying her face. “Conversation with you seemed much less intimidating than with the chattering female masses over there, but if you prefer —”

“It’s fine, really,” she waves him off. “I’m just…” she pauses, as if trying to find the words to explain.

“Really Swan, I don’t need an explanation if you don’t —”

“Did you know I have a son?” she interrupts.

It’s news to him. It does explain why he so often catches her trying to surreptitiously check her phone - probably trying to make sure nothing’s wrong with her boy. As he shakes his head in the negative, Emma continues.

“Well, I do. He’s ten. He’s with his dad this weekend. And I’m glad he’s excited about that, but it always makes me…” She waves at her face and its expression, as if that’s an acceptable substitute for actually finishing her sentence with words. Honestly, she’s not wrong on that front, her irritated expression speaking volumes. “So it’s not you, and it’s not the company, and it’s not this outing or party or whatever.” She pauses. “Ok, maybe the last one, but that’s because I’d much rather be at home angrily drinking by myself than being dragged out on the town. But Mary Margaret and Ruby are convinced that if I’m at home, I’ll be wallowing in loneliness, so they dragged me out here against my will.” Another eye roll clearly illustrates Swan’s own thoughts on the matter, and Killian finds himself inexplicably charmed by the gesture. The more he learns and sees of Emma Swan, the more he’s fascinated by her, and he’s glad she hasn’t just unceremoniously sent him on his way tonight.

“Ah, well, that makes two of us,” Killian replies genially, before immediately backtracking. “Not the son bit, but the not particularly wanting to be here. I’d planned to go home and call my brother tonight, but David practically begged me to help in this little farce and… well, long story short, here I am.”

“Here we both are.” She raises her glass to his in a short salute to the unenthusiastic and unwilling.

After taking a swig of his beer, Killian sets his glass back down and turns to Emma with purpose. “It’s not all bad, really. I’ve been trying to find a moment to speak with you all day.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows raise in curiosity and confusion as she raises her own glass to take another sip of her purple monstrosity. Based on the way her mouth puckers as the alcohol hits her tongue, he thinks she might feel the same way about her beverage.

“Well, you see, I thought I heard you quoting a certain musical earlier…”

Swan immediately groans, her head dropping as if in resignation or defeat. Killian is confident that the only thing keeping her from banging her head on the counter is her folded arms braced against the worn and stained wood. “I was hoping no one heard that.”

“‘This is my husband, we’re from Maine’? I’m impressed by your Sondheim knowledge, Swan, but your timing needs work.”

“I know, I know. It’s… Henry and I have this game, you see, where we try to slip in lyrics without the other knowing. He actually knows a lot, just by virtue of being my kid and practically being raised in theaters. So when I heard Belle, I wasn’t trying to turn it into a joke or something awful like that, it was just… a reflex, I guess.”

“Second nature,” Killian nods in return. “I’m not holding it against you, love, a man just doesn’t expect to hear Assassins quotes tossed around willy-nilly.”

“Thanks.” Catching the bartender’s attention, she holds up her glass in the universal sign for ‘more, please’. “For the record, I’m impressed you caught that. Assassins is pretty much at the top of my list of shows to see, but not everyone knows about it.”

“You can blame my brother for that,” Killian chuckles. “After I decided to become a theatre actor, he decided I needed a full history of the genre. Except the tosser knows next to nothing about musicals and can’t sing a note, so it was mostly just him telling me a lot of Sondheim and Andrew Lloyd Webber facts. Which means I know a disproportionate amount about Cats and Into the Woods. Assassins was at least a more enjoyable entry in his so-called education.”

The story at least gets her to laugh, displacing that foul look she’s been wearing for a moment. “Your brother sounds like a handful. I mean, it sounds like he means well, but wow.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Killian grumbles, eliciting another laugh from his companion. He could get used to that sound, given the chance. “But enough about that wanker. What would you say to a game of pool, Swan?”

Her answering grin is acceptance and challenge, all at once. “Oh, you’re on, Jones.”

———

It’s late when Killian finally calls Liam; he’s not rightfully sure how late, a series of beers, and later glasses of rum, blurring his perception of time, but he knows it’s far past a respectable hour. The only saving grace is that his older brother is currently out in Los Angeles, three hours behind Killian’s local time. Perhaps that will do something to make up for the perceived lateness of the hour.

“Hello?” sounds Liam’s voice from the other end of the line, and Killian is relieved to hear that his brother’s voice is the normal kind of tired, not the just-woken-up kind. Killian may be a bit drunk, but he’s not so far gone that he can’t tell the difference.

“Brother!” he practically chirps in response. “I know it’s late, but I promised I’d call, didn’t I?”

The chuckle from the other end of the line is warm, if exhausted. “Aye, that you did. Tell me, Killy, how much have you had to drink? Are you ok to find your way home?”

“Oh, a good bit. I’ll be fine.” Liam definitely can’t see the dismissive wave of Killian’s hand, but that doesn’t stop him in the least, his impulse control and logic severely compromised. “David convinced me to come out. Have I told you about Dave, Liam? Dave’s a good mate.”

“Aye, you have. I might have to have a few words with Dave if this is going to become a regular occurence. It’s after 11, Killian, which is even later for you.”

“Oh, don’t scold Dave. I didn’t even spend most of the night with him, I spent it with Swan! I’ve talked about Swan before, haven’t I, Liam?” Oh, he really ought to have talked about Swan before. It’d be a utter shame if he hadn’t - he just can’t properly remember right now.

“Are you making friends with birds, Killy?” Liam’s voice is amused, but Killian is less so upon hearing his older brother’s response.

“Don’t be daft, Liam,” he all but snaps. “No, Swan is the stage manager. I must have told you about her.”

The voice on the other end of the line hums as if in realization. “Ah, the one you’re so fascinated with?”

Even with his delayed responses, Killian can feel himself blush. “I’m not fascinated, Liam,” he explains in what he thinks is a perfectly level and reasoned tone of voice, slightly slurred words be damned. “She’s just a very nice lady. And talented. And lovely too.” The humming noise comes from the other end of the line again, causing Killian to adopt a defensive tone. “I don’t have a crush on her Liam, stop that.”

“I never said you did,” Liam says with amusement coloring his voice. Killian can just imagine the placating hand he must be raising to calm his younger brother back down.

“She’s just very good at her job,” Killian tries to explain. “I admire her.”

“Of course you do,” Liam replies soothingly. “And I know you don’t have any feelings for her, but just in case, tread carefully, alright? It’s not a particularly good idea to get involved with people you’re working closely with.”

“I will be,” Killian dutifully says, before hastening to add, “But it won’t be necessary, Liam. She’s just a friend.”

“Whatever you say, Killian,” Liam placates. “Call me in the morning when the alcohol wears off, aye? I’ll talk to you later.”

“Aye, brother, tomorrow.” There’s the usual exchange of affections to close out the call, and then Killian’s left to his own thoughts again, and still needing to find his way home.

Liam can say all he wants, but no matter how fascinating Killian finds Emma Swan, it’s nothing more than a platonic interest. Even if she is lovely and interesting and brilliant and absolutely someone he could have romantic feelings for.

———

It’s such a cliche to say that their interactions at the bar are the beginning of a beautiful friendship, but Emma thinks she and Jones - Killian, she could probably call him now - might be on their way there. Killian is easy to talk to, charming, funny, and apparently willing to participate in ridiculous romantic schemes in service of a friend. The professional part of Emma feels victorious that they apparently cast the perfect man to play their Mr. Darcy; the rest of her is left just wondering how he’s real. The man acts like something out of one of Mary Margaret’s awful romantic comedies, and Emma’s not sure what to do about it.

It doesn’t help that he seems especially determined to be a gentleman towards Emma in particular. He already does all the door holding and ‘ladies first’ nonsense, but he’s taken to helping Emma collect all the various and sundry things she lends out from her supply box over the course of a day and bringing her hot chocolate in the mornings. She’s not even sure how he knows about the hot chocolate thing; who knows, maybe she told him herself that night at the bar. Emma does get chatty when she gets tipsy, even if she doesn’t like to admit it. Regardless, he’s even figured out that she likes cinnamon on top, and presents the to-go cups each morning with a smile that is much brighter than Emma is properly prepared to see before noon.

They’re friends now, she supposes. That’s what Emma’s willing to admit to at least. Sure, she can easily see how that friendship could turn into something more if they both let it, but they work together. It would be such a bad idea - if not downright disastrous. Friendship is safe; friendship is something they can both handle. There’s absolutely no attraction and no feelings on either side.

Emma only hopes that if she repeats that mantra enough, the words will actually stay true.

[my-awesome-roadtrip]

Still Day 10

So we have been out of the hotel for 8 hours straight, my feet ache, I feel dehydrated and I’m ready for an early night.

We went down to breakfast around 7am, this place is so posh you are greeted with :

“Bonjour”

I know we are in the French Quarter of Philadelphia, however the greeting sounded a little false, nevertheless we were shown to a very nice table with crisp white linen.  We decided on the buffet / brunch breakfast and there was a huge variety to choose from, fruit, pastries, salad, cold meats, bacon, eggs, grits to name a few.

Now here comes the punch line, Tony and I were sitting at our table, making quiet conversation when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye, I looked at Tony, not quite believing what I saw, then in a flash  I saw it again and it disappeared underneath the air cooling system, the waiter saw it too,  it was Micky Mouses cousin. 

The waiter did not know what to do, he disappeared towards the lobby in haste, Tony and I were incredulous, the mouse had well and truly disappeared, as it was raining rather heavily it probably came in out of the street via the air conditioning system for shelter.

Anyway the waiter, probably to shut us up, gave us a complimentary breakfast, saving us around 40$ So we were out of the hotel by 8am and making our way to the Independence National Park which was about 1.5 miles away.

Our first stop was the Liberty Bell, the wait wasn’t very long at all and soon we were facing this most sacred of American symbols. It was smaller than I imagined, in my mind I expected it to be huge, but it wasn’t.

We took a few photos and then scooted over to Independence Hall where we caught an earlier tour.

So this was the place  the Declaration of Independence was signed, the docent was brilliant giving us a balanced view of what happened. It was quite spine tingling to stand where the founding fathers stood and debated the terms of their separation from England.

There were 13 original States that wanted to leave the constraints of the British Empire and they all bickered and fought amongst themselves, each wanting to be a country in its own right. Good thing George Washington came along and united them and of course became their first President.

We then moved onto Congress Hall, it too was interesting but by now I knew the story so I was happy to sit where those that signed the Declaration sat and just took in the atmosphere.

The day was getting very hot so we decided to sit in the park under the boughs of a tree and in the same park who should be there on this eve of Independence Day but a group of fascists who call themselves The Proud Boys.

Joke or what ? They did not look like boys , but old men, they wore black shirts and hid their faces behind masks. They were spouting things about “ taking back their Country” and other such drivel. On the whole they were ignored and  there was a large police presence as well.  There were around fifty of them ridiculously waving their pathetic  banners about, even worse one of their ladies sang the American National Anthem and my goodness she murdered it, it sounded like a cat being dragged across a blackboard and back several times.

Our next stop was the Museum of the American Revolution, it was a truly beautiful place and so engaging but so biased against England. 

Once again we learnt about the mighty George Washington and his daring crossing of the Delaware River, we learnt about Revere and Adams,Jefferson and Franklin,  about the involvement of the Native Americans and the enslaved.  After a while it did get repetitive and by the end of it I left thinking that although America has its independence,  the Revolution still hasn’t ended, because all citizens are still not equal.

We had so much more to see, but the heat got the better of us and we slowly made our way back to the hotel.

[romcomathon2016]

Sleeping with Other People (USA, 2015)

Predictions: Kat saw this movie when it came out. Alex, half-remembering maybe having read its summary at some point, predicted that Alison Brie and Jason Sudeikis meet in a sex-addicts support group, hook up with each other, and then are afflicted with feelings.

Plot: Well, clearly Alex did read the summary for this movie, although she also obviously forgot some parts. Alison Brie and Jason Sudeikis first meet in college because Alison Brie is stalking Adam Scott, her TA. Jason Sudeikis lives on Adam Scott’s floor and rescues Alison Brie. They lose their virginities to each other and then don’t see each other again for twelve years. THEN they run into each other at a sex-addicts support group. Jason Sudeikis is a cheater cheater pumpkin eater who can’t stop two-timing...three-timing...four-timing the ladies. Alison Brie is also cheating — but only with Adam Scott. Adam Scott with a tiny unbearable mustache. She and Jason Sudeikis reconnect and decide to become friends.

Jason Sudeikis helps Alison Brie kick her Adam-Scott habit because Adam Scott is now engaged (even though he keeps calling Alison Brie anyway), while Alison Brie...well, encourages Jason Sudeikis to try to connect with women outside of sex. Meanwhile, Alison Brie has also gotten into med school, and Jason Sudeikis is playing the long game in wooing his boss, Amanda Peet. But pretty much everyone in Alison Brie and Jason Sudeikis’s lives — including the two of them — kind of thinks that they are together. But, no, they’re just friends.

Such good friends, you guys. They are just the most platonic of pals, with their snuggling and their pet names and Jason Sudeikis teaching Alison Brie how to touch herself. This is all stuff people do with their friends. Such good friends. May we all be blessed with such friendships. Friendships that we don’t want to ruin or complicate with our obvious non-friend feelings.

Things are going fine until Jason Sudeikis and Alison Brie attend Jason Mantzoukas’s kid’s birthday party. While rolling on molly, Alison Brie manages to unwittingly attract a hot single dad. Much to Jason Sudeikis’s dismay, she goes out with him. Hot Single Dad takes Alison Brie to a fancy mixer, where she runs into — surprise! — Adam Scott and his shitty little mustache wife. Devastated, she tries to call Jason Sudeikis. However, he doesn’t pick up, because he has finally managed to con Amanda Peet into a date. At the end of the night, the two of them meet up again at Jason Sudeikis’s apartment, snuggle up in bed, and admit that they are in love with each other. “But what are two platonic in-love pals to do?” Alison Brie inquires. “Nothing,” Jason Sudeikis says, with his big emo eyes. “Absolutely nothing.” (We may be paraphrasing, but barely.)

With that, Alison Brie moves to Michigan to attend med school, and she and Jason Sudeikis say goodbye forever. Which is weird, because now we all have Facebook, so… But okay, sure. Two months go by. Jason Sudeikis is now like...boyfriend of the year to Amanda Peet?? Like, taking her kid to soccer and surprising her with a birthday trip to France???? But one day, while at brunch with her, he spies A Certain Mustache sitting across the way. How can one miss that mustache? Of course, Jason Sudeikis is filled with the urge to punch said mustache in the face. This effectively terminates both Mustache’s brunch and Jason Sudeikis's relationship with Amanda Peet.

He calls Alison Brie from the police station, partly because no one else will bail him out and partly to yell that he loves her. She yells enthusiastically back. Shortly after, Jason Sudeikis is trying to settle an emotional distress lawsuit with Dr. Mustache (oh yeah, he’s a doctor), but Mustache won’t budge. Alison Brie goes to see Mustache to cut ties and blackmail him into letting Jason Sudeikis off the hook. It works. She and Jason Sudeikis walk off into the sunset to have a quickie before they get hitched.

Best Scene: Jason Mantzoukas’s kid’s birthday party. Alison Brie and Jason Sudeikis dance together while on molly, which is pretty delightful, and then are miserable coming off it, which is also delightful. Then she gets approached by Hot Single Dad, and Jason Sudeikis is real bad at hiding his jealousy. Love it.

Worst Scene: Alison Brie trying to break things off with Adam Scott at the beginning. Oh my god, the first sighting of the MUSTACHE. But also, he is such a pretentious douche. Why is Adam Scott always a douche in movies?? Though we shouldn’t complain. Without "adam scott romantic comedy douche," we would not have this blog.

Best Line: "Yeah, it's like Ted Bundy. You can't get them into a van by just being a jerk. You've got to have a certain way about you." — Jason Sudeikis, talking about Alison Brie being an “approachable psychotic.” There were a lot of very funny lines though. This one just particularly made us laugh.

Worst Line: “Because I’d rather fail with you than win with anyone else.” — Jason Sudeikis, who was pretty much always very amusing and witty...unless he was declaring his feelings, at which point he would immediately become disgusting. Several. Times.

Highlights of the Watching Experience: So many famous people in this movie! Early on, Alison Brie breaks up with Adam Brody in a restaurant, and he has a very funny flip-out. It’s a nice bit role. Also, her best friend before she falls in love with Jason Sudeikis is Natasha Lyonne, playing yet another lesbian. Does she ever play non-lesbians? Has she just been lesbian-typecast? Discuss.

How Many POC in the Film: ...Where to begin. Um. So, we have discussed on this blog in the past the crucial and controversial question: are Greeks POC? (We think yes in old-timey Europe, but probably not in modern-day America.) Anyway, Jason Mantzoukas is Greek. Some people, however, seem to think that because he has curly hair and is the color of Scar from The Lion King that he is...black???? Clearly, the casting directors of this film thought so, because his kids are DEFINITELY THE KIDS ONE WOULD CAST if one parent was white and the other was black. Those are some freaking adorable, Afro-having, mixed-race kids. On the one hand, how...nice?? that they are...celebrating...interracial...families???? On the other hand, while we may not know if Greeks are POC, I think we can all agree that they're not black.

Alternate Scenes: How about, instead of a live-action Lion King starring CGI-ed lions, we just cast humans, AKA Jason Mantzoukas in the role of Scar? (You can't un-see it now, can you? You’re welcome.)

Was the Poster Better or Worse than the Film: ...Worse? The movie is about two people who like each other but aren't having sex, whereas the poster seems to be about two people who hate each other and aren't having sex. The poster is the poster for a movie about Jason Sudeikis and Alison Brie's crumbling marriage. Maybe she just tried to drown him, so they're talking about whether sleeping with other people would improve their relationship.

Score: 8.5 out of 10 platonic-pal smooches. It was so hard to score this one, you guys, because, on the one hand, it's pretty recent, so who knows if it will stand the test of time...? But, on the other hand, is there anything we love more than best friends who are secretly in love???????? (This is a normal thing for two actual best friends to love. Not pathological at all. WHAT? SHUT UP. WE DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM. YOUR FACE HAS A PROBLEM.)

Ranking: 7, out of the 82 movies we’ve seen so far. Kat can't remember why she originally told Alex this movie was only okay???? Maybe she loved it too much and couldn't handle her feelings, much like Jason Sudeikis and Alison Brie.

[emilyplaysotome]

Part 46 - Harem Problems

Down the Voltage Rabbit Hole is an ongoing story about our MC, who could easily be anyone in voltage fandom. She woke up in hospital bed only to discover that she’d somehow been transported Voltage universe.

This story is ongoing, so if you missed a part, or are new to the story, please use the link to the masterpost below to catch yourself up:

https://tinyurl.com/k4rrxna

Part 46 - Harem Problems

Shu commented that I appeared to be more energetic than usual as I channeled every ounce of confusion and frustration that I’d been feeling into my kendo lesson (which ended in me covered in sweat, my day old makeup running down my face).

When I’d taken my mask off, Shu had laughed heartily and handed me a tissue, informing me that I might want to tend to the dark circles should Namba swing by again, and as I caught my reflection in the dojo’s mirrors, I found myself laughing alongside him. 

Our hour together had been beneficial for my mood, and I was feeling clear headed and less emotional which was a relief considering that I had a busy day in front of me.

Shu had been considerate enough not to pry into my relationship with his chief, but I could tell that he was a bit curious, and I decided to use that curiosity to my advantage. I figured that Shu, being both thoughtful and perceptive could give me insight as to my current predicament (at least when it came to Namba) and clumsily attempted to investigate whether or not he thought Namba was capable of making a huge life change at 40.

“I’m thinking of moving back to New York,” I finally admitted, “and even though Jin said he’d consider going with me, I just don’t see him being happy without you guys, and his job...even that ramen stand he loves so much.”

“Hmm,” Shu said, thoughtfully resting his chin in his hand as he narrowed his eyes thinking it over. “I think that’s something only he can answer.”

“But you’ve known him for a long time. He just...strikes me as someone who is really bad with change.”

“An astute observation, but here’s another - Namba’s a man of great integrity. He would never say something that he didn’t mean.”

“You’re right.”

“All you can do is present him with the facts and take his response at face value. Tell me Ami, how do you feel?”

I laughed, “I honestly have no idea.”

Shu chucked alongside me and said softly, “It sounds like you need to stop thinking about what’s in his head, and start thinking more about what’s in yours.”

“Thank you Shu. You’re totally right.”

Shu nodded, “The Chief really loves you. I’ve known him long enough that I can say that. He’s more adaptable than you’re giving him credit for.”

I sighed, “You know, you’re making this a lot harder for me but...thanks.”

“See you tomorrow.”

It’s fair to say that I spent my morning after kendo going through the motions with my mind occupied by how little time I had left before having to make my final decision. I had one more date before my big finale on Friday and didn’t feel any closer to making my final choice despite the fact that it was already Thursday.

Tomorrow morning I planned to extend an invite to each man (via TalkTime for Shun and Namba, and note via Altair for Zyglavis) which would request that they meet me at the final luxury hotel I’d booked earlier in the week. I’d already taken care of the dress I’d wear, the penthouse I wanted, and the romantic last night in this world, but I’d yet to decide what time they should each arrive.

Like the Bachelorette, I would first say my goodbyes to the men that I was breaking up with, and issue a proposal of sorts to the remaining man. If he were to say yes, he would spend one final, glamorous night with me in the penthouse suite, before starting our new life together. However, if he were to say no, I would most likely spend the night drowning my sorrows in ice cream and mini-bar booze.

At this current point in time, I’d hoped to be closer to my final answer, and the fact that I felt even more conflicted than I did at the start of the week did not bode well for me.

To make matters worse, I needed to be on my A-game today for this Tweeter takeover or my night with Shun would most likely be destroyed. I couldn’t let him down professionally as I knew that would affect how he saw me in our personal life, and I psyched myself up for a day of hard work.

Shun, since our one night stand, had been steadily rising in the ranks. Since the onset of my quest to find a man, I had always considered him to be the best fit for me on paper.

Granted, I still didn’t know him that well, but at the very least my relationship with him had been somewhat logical and consistent. He was open to living and working in New York, worked in the same industry as I did, and our sexual chemistry was quite good (to say the least).

However, at the moment our relationship was primarily a superficial one, and I needed to focus on creating an emotional connection while also revealing my circumstances to him in a way that allowed him to make an educated decision. From the get go, the king had made it clear that the man I took back needed to fully consent to coming with me, and even though Shun had just declared yesterday in a tacky love hotel that he loved me, it was hard to believe that he’d be capable of uprooting his life.

As early as Wednesday I’d mentally crossed Namba off my list, but now Shu’s words had me flip-flopping like crazy when it came to him. Thanks to our chat after Kendo, I’d stopped questioning how set Jin was in his ways, and instead focused on what my heart was telling me, and at the moment it wasn’t ready to let him go.

On top of that, my disappointing night with Zyglavis caused him to no longer be my clear favorite.

Going into the date he’d been a bit of a lock, to the point that I had considered sneaking away from our dinner to call off today’s date with Shun. However, our imperfect night had knocked him down a peg, resulting in a more even playing field between the three (which I suspected amused the king to no end).

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more certain I was that this was all by design, and I wondered if my night with Zyglavis had been a test of sorts by the trickster king. I should have known that he wouldn’t have allowed himself to part ways with a trusted chief minister so easily, and I questioned if he’d been certain that I would be unable to get past Zyglavis’ inexperience.

With that said, it was impossible to ignore the fact that Zyglavis had been my favorite up until this point, and in my head I knew that it was illogical to allow the previous night to color every other moment we’d had together. Our deep, emotional connection was undeniable and it would be foolish of me to let him go over a single disappointing night together. In time, and with experience our sex life might flourish, and just because we’d gotten off to a bumpy start didn’t mean that our future together was a lost cause.

After all, I wasn’t choosing a one-night-stand or party date - I was choosing the man to walk through life beside me.

I attempted to quell my confusion as I forced a smile on my face and paid the ladies at the salon before heading to Addison & Rhodes’ photo studio.

This was not the first time I’d arrived at work with concerns about personal matters, and I knew that it would not be the last. Being the professional I was I had faith that I would not allow any of this to leak into our Tweeter takeover.

The studio had been converted from still photography to a video livestreaming set, with a colorful backdrop that featured a prominent Mira Black logo. I was pleased to see that the band was already in hair and makeup, and that our client was currently enjoying the complimentary craft services which featured both a traditional Japanese breakfast in addition to a handful of western options.

I could feel Shun’s eyes on me as I greeted the band, thanking them again for taking the time and wishing them a good morning before heading over to the video village where he, Toshiaki and our Mira Black client Mr. Akimoto were settled in front of the client television monitors which displayed our currently empty set.

Our client was talking to Toshiaki in a rather boistrous, and excited manner, and being Addison & Rhodes’ account executive, Toshiaki was doing his best to give the man his full attention. Not wanting to interrupt I took the empty seat next to Shun and quietly wished him a good morning.

He started to say something, but then glanced over at the two men, and when he was sure that they were sufficiently distracted leaned in close to me and whispered, “This morning might be good, but I promise that tonight will be even better.”

The stark contrast of my chaste night with Zyglavis and Shun’s suggestive words (that I knew he could back up) left me feeling unsettled. I tried my best to hide how I was feeling despite the fact that I felt my face flush with anticipation for our last night together.

It's fair to say that the silver lining of all this emotional turmoil was the fact that I was really beginning to miss my life back home which I'd supposedly be returning to in a couple of days.

If I had been experiencing this same type of confusion back home, I would have called an emergency meeting of my restaurant club where my girls would have given me the real talk that would push me to make the best decision. Considering that my inner circle knew me since college, I was certain that they'd all have opinions and I found myself wondering if they were here, who they'd want me to pick.

I allowed my mind to wander, and as Revance droned on in the background, my friends’ faces appeared in my mind.

In my daydream, I imagined us all eating brunch outside on a perfect spring New York weekend.

The first person I pictured was Sarita, who I’d met sophomore year during an anthropology class. We’d hit it off after being paired together on a group assignment, and while I’d gone on to find a job in advertising, she’d done the opposite and found herself in the non-profit world.

When I’d first materialized in this world her son had just turned 8 months old. She’d met her husband at a charity event, and the two of them had been together for about 6 years before they finally got married. Out of all of my friends, she’d been in her relationship the longest and was the only person I was close to that had a child.

Out of all of my suitors, I knew that she would immediately choose Zyglavis for me.

She'd scoff upon hearing me tell the group about our lackluster night together, and would tease me saying, "So what? Poor little princess Naomi can't handle a night of subpar sex. You're being ridiculous - you're obviously meant to be with him."

"No way! She's most compatible with Shun," Megan would argue. "Plus he's the hottest."

"You just don't like guys with long hair..."

To that, Meg would shrug and admit that while she hated long hair that was besides the point.

Meg and I were both in advertising but she worked as an art director and motion graphics artist. She'd busted her butt during school and upon graduation was hired at one of the top MoGraph shops in New York City. At 26 she became part of ADC Young Guns, and (now) at 30 she'd won several awards (cannes lions, clio, etc.) for her work.

Unlike Sarita, Meg didn't have kids but lived with her boyfriend Noah, who was an engineer at a tech startup. Noah was calm, quiet, and balanced Meg out perfectly considering she could be a bit overbearing. In their relationship, she was the more aggressive one, and was an incorrigible flirt when drunk.

While she’d never go so far as to cheat on Noah, out of the two she was was the one to play with fire now and again, seeing as how she had a soft spot for good looking men. Getting texts from random guys she worked with was a common occurrence, and every time she got one she’d smirk and then roll her eyes and tell me if she were single she’d go after whatever flavor of the month had hit her up.

She never did, but seeing as how she was such an aggressive person it made sense that she’d like Shun the best (considering that they were quite similar in a lot of ways).

"Shun gets what you do so he won't be mad over late nights or when you have to ditch him to go drinking with your clients."

Maya, who would listen to everything with a contemplative look on her face would finally join the conversation at this point.

"I don't know," she would say. "I think Shun seems like the cheating type. And the fact that he was so willing to have a one night stand when you were his subordinate supports the fact that he doesn't make the best decisions around women..."

Her harsh words would somehow come out sounding thoughtful and she’d pause, collecting her thoughts once more before continuing.

Maya had written a best selling NYTimes Middle Grade book and in many ways we were the closest seeing as how she’d been my roommate freshman year of college. Her boyfriend Omar had just proposed, and at the time I'd arrived in this world, we had just started preparing for her wedding.

Sarita would cut Maya of before she could formulate her words and exclaim, "I agree! That's why Zyglavis is the right man. He's realistic. You know that he'd support you in your life without making an issue out of every little thing. And the chemistry stuff can come later when he's less nervous and you both are more comfortable together. Relationships that last are going to involve some work - that’s just how life is."

"Naomi's always been too lazy for that," Meg would tease.

"I actually think Jin would be best," Maya would say quietly. "He seems more mature than Shun...plus you guys have great chemistry, and he sounds like he could provide you with a really happy home. He just has the most potential to be a father one day. Zyglavis sounds too stuffy, and Shun sounds too selfish but Jin...he's going to be a family man and you've always wanted that."

“I think Zyglavis would make a great dad. A strict dad, but still a good one.”

“You guys are nuts. Shun’s the clear winner.”

“Meg...don’t push her. Naomi, what are you thinking?” Maya would ask, looking at me with her gentle brown eyes.

“Ami...what are you thinking...Ami?”

Shun’s voice jolted me back to reality and I looked over to see him watching me with a concerned expression on his face.

“Ami - are you crying?”

Toshiaki and our client were too absorbed with the takeover to notice what was happening, and I touched my cheek to realize that tears were in fact streaming down my face. I silently nodded to him, and quickly he whispered something to Toshiaki before taking me out of the studio as the takeover marched on without us.

He pulled me into an empty conference room and hugged me, stroking my hair as he whispered, “Cry if you need to. It’s ok.”

I don’t even know why it all chose to come out at that moment, but I was extremely grateful to Shun who just stayed with me, not asking for anything in return. My daydream had pushed me to realize how homesick I was, and feeling like things were hopeless and out of control, I wished that someone would just tell me who to pick so I’d be cured of this constant state of anxiety and confusion that I found myself in.

“One more hour,” Shun muttered, “and then we’ll go on a date and I’ll make you forget about whatever is making you sad.”

I found myself wishing it were that simple, and I decided that I couldn’t wait any longer to tell Shun the whole truth. 

I hoped that maybe my job might be easier if he were to take himself out of the running, and I found myself pulling away from him and wiping my own tears, shaking off the sadness and looking at him ready to put it all on the table.

“You said you loved me, right?”

Shun nodded with a smile, unsure as to where I was going.

“I do.”

“If I told you that I was leaving to go back to New York, do you love me enough to come with me?”

“I…”

“If you did, you’d never be able to come back. You’d never see Toshi or Yuki again. You’d never be able to even talk to them...do you understand?”

Shun looked at me confused, “But...that doesn’t make sense. I…”

I cut him off again, “I know that it doesn’t make sense, and that what I’m about to say is going to sound crazy but it’s the truth. I’m not from here. My home is similar, but not the same, and I’m probably going to return this weekend.”

Shun looked at me seriously, a slight annoyance flickering behind his eyes, “Ami, stop kidding around it’s not funny.”

“I’m not kidding. I’m going to go back and if you think that you love me enough to leave everything here behind you, then we’ll go on our date tonight. But if you can’t...and you don’t...I understand.”

I didn’t give him the chance to respond. 

I walked out of the room and took my seat back in the video village with Toshiaki and our client who were still happily chatting, noting upon my return that the takeover was a massive success.

I glanced at the door, waiting for Shun to re-enter, but he never did.

Toshiaki and I walked Mr. Akimoto to the exit, and we bowed to him, thanking him for allowing us to move forward with what had been such a fun event.

“Shun asked that I pass along his apologies,” Toshiaki said cooly. “An urgent matter came up that he had to attend to, but he wanted to express his thanks as well.”

“The pleasure was all mine!” Mr. Akimoto exclaimed. “Please thank Revance again. We’re already seeing results thanks to their influence.”

“Of course,” Toshiaki said firmly, and with that our client left.

I followed him back through the security point, towards the elevator and timidly asked, “Is everything okay with Shun?”

“Dunno. Haven’t heard from him.”

“Wait but…”

“I lied. Obviously I couldn’t tell our client that he disappeared in the middle of our shoot.”

Toshiaki remained emotionless as we got into the elevator together, and we headed back to the studio to finish wrapping for the evening. I didn’t say anything, and realizing the impact that my words had on Shunichiro, the heaviness I’d been feeling earlier in the day returned.

The clock had just hit 6 PM when I got a TalkTime notification from Shun.

At this point, Revance was long gone and the studio was back as we’d found it the previous day. Toshiaki had excused himself twenty minutes earlier, and I had just been gathering my laptop and tote, alone for the first time in what felt like days.

I had no idea what Shun was thinking, and upon hearing the notification chime I quickly opened the app to see his message.

“We need to talk. Meet me by that love hotel.”

My heart was racing, and I sent him a reply letting him know that I was leaving the office. My impatience drove me to take my laptop with me, instead of returning it to my desk upstairs, and as I flew past the security checkpoint and out of the Addison & Rhodes building I heard someone shout my name.

“Ami!”

I turned to see Zyglavis waiting outside for me, and I froze as he sauntered over.

“I just wanted to say…”

Before he could get the words out however, he was interrupted by another familiar voice which exclaimed, “Ami! There you are!”

Both Zyglavis and I turned to see Jin approaching me, and as my face dropped, my phone vibrated again, bringing with it another message from Shun.

“Forget it - I’ll head to you. Meet me out front of A&R. See you soon.”

A cold sweat trickled down my back, and I knew that somewhere the King of the Heavens was enjoying the show.

To be continued...in Part 47!

If you’ve enjoyed the story, please show your support by sharing it with a friend or buying me a coffee! My goal is to create an original web series so if you like my characters please consider donating something to help me get it made.

Thanks for reading :)

@suzunesays

@suyi-nandar

@hifftn

@ocean-of-stars

@jasminwild

@scorpioslover

@untilsmidnight

@mandakatt​

@asyasacha​

@saphirepearl​

@evilgreenhedgehog​

@musiic-on-world-off​

@frywen-babbles​

@thesassyscribbler​

@lexlesnik​

@voltagewolfsoul​

@liebengirl​

@nitelotus​

@kingdomzeldaquest​

@kpkarlee​

@wickedtiff​

@chubbsmomma​

@ariaspencer1028​

@midnightdreamerposts​

@krispycherryblossomchild​

@animeangel1995​

@shies322​

@sone9yoona​

@appletealove​

@hazeldite​

@lone-wolf155​

@iluvsexyvoltageguys​

@vasl-97​

@galaxyinqkxy​

@01paige01​

@huntressofsheep​

@rokopo2003​

@callmesinner​

@graceyyk​

@oh-well-this-is-awkward​

@voltagefan195​

@mrszala​

@secretotomelover​

@otome-newbie​

@askluluberry​

@speakfearlessly1989​

@kiniloves-yoi​

@juliettebbgamer​

@hotdamnvoltageman​

@ashcordova

@ticoerica

@lazura

Sorry if I missed anyone and let me know if you want to be added/removed!

[tango-uniformed]

Viv annoys the hell out of Levi

Here’s 6 pages of shit I typed out this morning because I was thinking about how random connections are. Also trying and failing to write Levi as simultaneously cool and empty but with an underlying idk badness/darkness. Also two sentences of Felicia being rightfully mean to Viv for being disruptive in her shop.

####

At 10:00 one morning Viv and Levi found themselves on the prowl for brunch.

They walked down the street a few blocks from the apartment Madeline Calligaris had so...graciously provided the two of them. The Kennellys apartment was in the same complex, but Rain had lived in East Boston her entire life and stayed in her own place 20 minutes away despite the offer. The area was ok but it was so...Massachusetts-y and reminded Viv of when he lived there during college. Not a bad time but not the best time either. The neighborhood they were in was West Fenway, full of students and professionals.

It had been about a decade since Viv lived there and he felt very aware of how he much he had aged. Walking next to Levi didn’t help his self-esteem.

“This is ridiculous,” Levi complained. He was always talking or complaining but for some reason it came off as engaging rather than annoying. “It’s September. Why is it in the 50’s?” He was probably cold because he was wearing flip flops.

Viv felt like he did not know how to explain weather differences to a Californian and kept walking. “There’s a Starbucks coming up here in a block, want to go there?”

“No,” said Levi. A pretty older woman walked by him and she turned her head to look at him as he passed her. It was like the guy had pheromones. Levi didn’t seem to notice her.

“Dunkin?”

“I’d prefer a place that isn’t run by corporations or crowded, you feel me? If I’m staying here a while, I need a usual coffee place that’s cool.”

Nodding enthusiastically, Viv said, “It’s so cool that you care about that. Would you believe that when we drove out to find you, Bobby stopped at Chick-fil-a? It’s like, people like him even think about the consequences.”

Levi ignored him.

They passed the Starbucks, and then the Dunkins. One of the new dispensaries came up on their left side and Viv looked at it, trying to come up with conversation. Levi wasn’t into him at all, but Viv couldn’t ignore his crush on the guy, even though it was just leveling down to a friend-crush. He felt desperate to be liked by Levi.

He pointed at the dispensary. “Glad Maddy put us here instead of Baltimore.”

Levi looked up from his phone. “Yeah? I forgot it just got legalized here. Felt kindaaa worried that I’d have to buy from sketchy guys on the street like I when I was 20.” He laughed bitterly. “Good memories. Want to hear about the time I almost got kidnapped trying to buy weed in Echo Park?”

“Uhhh.”

The story Levi told lasted 5 minutes and didn’t have a point or a punch-line. It was just that he was so good-looking that whenever he went off on another one of his long nonsense stories, Viv wasn’t even annoyed. He was so involved in listening that he almost walked into a group of bleary-eyed MIT students.

“Anyways,” Levi concluded. “That’s how I learned never to tell my mom about anything dangerous I did, because I swear I almost gave her an aneurysm that night.” He laughed his peculiar bark-like and humorless laugh.

“What does she think about you moving across the country?”

“Oh, she doesn’t think much of anything. Since she passed after having an aneurysm in 2011.”

Viv could have committed seppuku in that moment. He cast his eyes around the block, desperately looking for something to keep the conversation topic away from the macabre. Even though Levi had been the one who made the joke, it still made him feel uncomfortable. And even worse, it made him briefly consider his own unstoppable mother’s mortality.

His gaze landed on a building on the corner across from them. It was a cafe, with Victorian-era looking chairs and tables outside. The sign above the door read “The King In Yellow” in ornate black lettering, and had a dragon on it. Viv grabbed Levi’s shoulder and pointed.

“Is that a True Detective reference?” Levi’s body felt warmer than most people’s, he could feel it through his floral shirt.

“Don’t touch me like that, man.” Levi brushed Viv away from him. “Want to eat there? Kind of hipster, but independent.”

“Sure,” said Viv, more embarrassed. He was a touchy person. His whole family was. His dad showed his emotions physically instead of speaking, always hugging when he was overjoyed or stomping around and slamming doors when he was angry. His mother was never shy and pulled people into dancing with her when she felt like it, and her hands were always guiding the hands of others when she taught music or art. Viv and his brothers all modeled the way they interacted with the world after them, even Will, though he wouldn’t admit it. Levi came across as an open individual, not closed off like Bobby Kennelly (who Viv knew straight away never to touch). He hoped that Levi hadn’t gotten the wrong idea. “Yeah. Sure. We want a cool, weird place, right?”

They crossed the street and went inside. The chimes that were on the door jangled discordantly.

It wasn’t a hipster cafe. It looked like Edgar Allan Poe’s ghost lived there with Salvador Dali’s ghost. One wall had a huge velvet Elvis painting mounted on it. There was a Ouija board encased in a glass frame up behind the cash register, next to an inexplicable signed picture of Chris Jericho. The furniture inside was also Victorian, and in one corner there was a Yamaha upright piano with books and candles shaped like skulls all over the top. Despite the discordant and slightly macabre decor, the whole place smelled like freshly baked bread and strong coffee.

The glass displays contained a beautiful assortment of French breads, croissants, and a few types of pastries that Viv didn’t recognize. From what he could tell, it all looked pretty serious and professional.

There were some people socializing and drinking coffee, but not many. The single greasy teenage barista looked up at Levi and Viv dully. “Oh shit,” he said, whistling slightly due to the braces that were straightening his sharp teeth.

It took a second for them to recognize him from their ill-fated McDonald’s trip with Rain from one week ago. He was the one who had covered for them all as they tried to get her magic under control.

“You,” said Levi. “McFlurry boy. What are you doing here?”

“I got fired because of you dickheads,” said the greasy little barista. He was wearing a nametag that said ‘Cyrus’. “Apparentlyyy spraying frozen yogurt all over a store accidentally on purpose to distract everyone from a lady who’s about to explode is frowned upon by management. It sucks here, I can’t steal chicken nuggets anymore.”

Viv wondered if this was a loose end that they would need to kill for Rain. He didn’t want to kill a teenager. Maybe Rain could kill her own loose end. Her cool gay lawyer seemed like he could easily get her out of any problem. He had already sprung her from prison even though she had...done whatever it was she did.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” said the barista, Cyrus. It didn’t seem like this establishment required a uniform, because he wore a NASA t-shirt under a black apron. “Did that lady explode? I have an uncle who works for the OVA so I’ve heard all kinds of stories about people dying because they didn’t get their magic or whatever checked out.”

“She didn’t explode,” said Viv, looking over his shoulder at the other customers. He conspicuously pulled out his wallet. “Thank you and could I get a caramel macchiato and a croissant?”

“Decaf green tea latte,” said Levi.

Cyrus rolled his eyes and got to work.

They sat down near the piano, because when Viv had the chance, he always sat near pianos. He missed his own baby grand, which was sitting in a storage unit back in Baltimore with the rest of his stuff. Maddy had told them all that she would take care of it. “Logistics,” she had said. “It’s what I do.” And she had laughed. Viv hoped that she would get on the ball soon.

“This is nice,” said Levi.

“Yeah,” said Viv. He drank his coffee, which was surprisingly good. The croissant was excellent. “What is it, a 15 minute walk away? We could all meet here when Maddy sends us a job.”

Levi was lounging in his chair. There was no better word for it. He was the most relaxed person Viv had ever met in his life. Every second he had to keep himself from staring at him. Another customer nearby stared without trying to hide it. Viv was starting to think that Levi’s variance was not limited to his sharp teeth, big ears, and strange green eyes. The man had a noticeable effect on other people. People couldn’t resist him. But Levi had never mentioned dealing with the OVA-- not that that surprised Viv, since Arlene hadn’t disclosed her abilities to them, nor had Rain.

“It’s fucked up,” said Levi. “That woman is using us somehow.”

“Yeah. It’s called a job. She put us all on payroll.”

Levi shook his head. “She wants expendable goons to clean up messes she can’t get to otherwise. I’m a good judge of people. She’s done it before. I’m only going along with this shit because I’m pissed off about someone framing me over that thing with your brother. Once that gets cleared up and I feel safe, I’m going back to L.A. I’m not abandoning my business for more than a couple months.”

It was something Viv suspected but didn’t want to believe. A month ago he had been making money off of podcasting and begging his old theatre to take him back. Now some lady came out of nowhere offering answers, a salary, and health insurance in exchange for...consultant work. He couldn’t just say ‘no’ to something like that. The Kennellys couldn’t say ‘no’ to that. Rain definitely couldn’t say ‘no’. And Levi? For all his talk, Viv knew that he couldn’t either. Even if Maddy’s intentions were sinister, she was paying up for the time being.

He decided to change the subject. “What do you want me to play?” he asked, gesturing at the piano.

“Anything?”

“For the most part.”

Levi drank the rest of his green tea latte. “Uptown Girl.”

Viv snorted and sat down at the piano, recalling Billy Joel’s 1983 classic, which didn’t seem like something Levi would choose-- but then, he couldn’t really pin down Levi’s musical taste. After a moment’s contemplation, he began to play.

He had always had a talent for music. The combination of having excellent tonal memory and being taught by his mother from early childhood lead to Viv being able to play almost anything by ear. He wasn’t that great at anything else-- bad at sports, terrible with math-- but give him a piano and he could make something beautiful. It was only when he was playing that he felt most himself. Even playing in a weird cafe beside a guy he had only known for a short time made Viv feel like he was on top of the world.

By the time he got to the 3rd stanza, the barista had made his way over to where they were sitting. “You can’t do that,” he said.

Viv stopped playing. “Why not?”

“Don’t tell me this thing’s here just for decoration,” said Levi with the air of a man who was bored and just wanted to cause trouble. He leaned over and clumsily played ‘Chopsticks’. “How am I doing?”

“You’re the next Ray Charles.” Both Viv and Levi snickered.

Cyrus looked annoyed. “Seriously, cut it out. It’s just there for open mic nights, which are Sundays at 7.”

Viv started to accompany Levi with the other part of ‘Chopsticks’. He was having a lot of fun all of a sudden, more fun than he’d had since Christian disappeared and this whole thing started. Was this what had been missing?

“I’m getting my manager,” muttered Cyrus. He slouched off.

“Play ‘What Does The Fox Say,’” said Levi.

“I can’t do that on the piano.”

“Play the Game of Thrones song then.”

What was with Levi’s musical tastes? Dad rock, an electronic meme song, and a HBO theme song? Who thought like that? Viv started to play. By this time, everybody else in the cafe was staring at them.

Before he even reached the middle of the song, a young Indian woman in a flour covered black apron marched over to them, and without saying a word slammed down the fallboard. It almost mashed Viv’s fingers. He held his arms up to his chest protectively and looked at her in shock.

“Thanks for your little performance,” said the woman, evidently Cyrus’s manager since he was trailing behind her like a hyena. She was short and overweight, with heavy dark make-up and an angry look about her. “The piano is off limits to customers except during open mic.”

Viv couldn’t even say anything. He kept thinking about how he just narrowly missed getting his fingers lopped off for no reason. Usually when he was rude in public spaces, service workers remained subservient and didn’t try to maim him. Levi looked like he found the whole thing hysterical; he hid his sharp smile behind one hand.  

“Can I get anything else for you?” asked the woman. Her name tag said ‘Felicia’. She smiled tightly, her black lipstick garish on her round pretty face.

“Can I speak to your boss?” whined Viv, taking a page out of his mother’s book. She would always complain in order to get her way at restaurants and shops.

Felicia kept smiling. “I’m the boss here,” she said. “I’m the owner of this establishment.”

“Oh shittttt,” said Cyrus from behind her.

“Will you get back to work?” Felicia snapped at him. The barista scuttled off. She turned back to Viv. “So what can I do for you, sir?”

For a second, both Viv and Levi were speechless. The entire cafe was staring at them as they, two adult men, got owned by a couple of service workers.

“We were just leaving,” Levi said tactfully. He stood up and held out his hand. “Thanks so much for the coffee, Ma’am, it was perfect.”

Viv walked out without making eye contact. “What just happened?” he muttered. “Did we just lose?”

“I didn’t lose. You looked like a real idiot though.”

“Great,” said Viv. “We can never go back there again.”

They of course, would go back again. And again. And again. Once you find a place like that, you don’t just forget about it.