#big understudy day when we went

[liquid-bonhomme]

CD-Call of the Conservative: Part 2

[Part 1]

Who killed the Tories? (Poilievre and the Trumpification of the Canadian Right)

Okay, so, we need to set the stage here a bit for where we are right now in Canadian politics.

Because, no. Though I would NOT call the Canadian Liberal party "right-wing" (not YET, anyway) well. . .

This has been a trend for both American democrats and Canadian liberals. In response to the rise in right-wing popularism, shifting to the center and adopting what's considered more "middle of the road positions." Middle of the road positions that to the average voter signal "business as usual " and "establishment dickriding," when, by in large that used to be the Republican/Conservative position for both countries. The shift has been even more of an absolutely whiplash-inducing heel turn for Canadians, considering what Harper's Conservative party used to look like.

Again, I'm going to use J.J. McCullough as the pinnacle example of what your average, well politically educated, coherently Conservative Canadian voter looked like-- up until extremely recently.

And yes, again, I realize these opinions sound vaguely center-left to Americans. Canada is NOT America.

JJ McCullough is for:

Equality of civil rights, but against equity of civil liberty.

Smallest government spending imaginable, but NOT without sacrificing social safety nets, like socialized Healthcare.

Capitalist growth and economy stimulation, even at the expense of the environment.

However, against big business and monopoly.

In my opinion, maintaining the status quo of the country-- but he'd likely not agree.

Yes, before and well after Harper, there were Canadian voters FAR MORE right-wing than that (the white nationalit party PPC was formed in 2019 basically because they went full pissbaby that the Cons were "too woke" for caring more about the economy than actively encouraging gay bashing and racism) but that's your characterization of your . . . Cream of the crop, when it comes to conservative Canadian voter. The most rational position to vote conservative for.

I obviously really don't fucking agree with the conservative platform, even Harper's Conservative platform-- and I'm probably making him sound a lot more benevolent than he actually was in practice. In my opinion, Harper's vision for the conservative party was an abject failure. I don't think conservative policy fucking works period though, take that opinion however you would like to.

My point here is, though I VERY STRONGLY, do not like Harper, I do not agree with JJ. However, I would not call Harper or JJ extremists. I would not call them anti-social. I would not call them grifters. I would not call them nazies.

[Enter stage left, Pierre Poilievre. Trump Canadian girlfriend, she goes to a different school, you wouldn't know her.]

Pierre Poilievre is the current leader of the Conservative Party, and unfortunately despite recent events with the Canadian Cons melting down because of the Top Ten Anime Betrayals of all Time Trump Tarrifs, there is still a good chance he might be the next Priminister of Canada.

Pierre Poilievre is a waist of human skin. He is an embarrassment to Alberta. He is someone's pass-around-party-bottom that got left in the car on a hot day.

He is a Trump understudy. He's popularist. He doesn't have policy, he has redhoric. He thinks us tr*nnies are after his kids. He thinks anyone darker than peach pink is scary. He said he would like to bring Canada back, "to what John A. McDonald envisioned." John A. McDonald, by a stupid technicality, was the "first priminister" of Canada. The man on our ten dollar bill. But not only was he not actually functionally the first priminister, for the fucking reservation schools.

He's the face of the Maple-MAGA movement-- slaughtering the old guard, the Harper Tories of the party.

And, I can't get into it right now, this post is going to be long as is, but he wasn't chosen as party leader via entirely "above the board" means and, though it's supposed to be easy for parties to boot their leaders-- Poilievre has undermined our democratic process.

His own fucking party doesn't want him, but, he's determined to be prom queen.

I can't go into exhaustive detail as to why Poilievre is such a RADICAL CHANGE from Harper and Con establishment. . . I hope I've made it as clear as I can with this brief summary.

Back to the fucking Libs now . . .

As the right-wing vote in Canada has taken such a drastic U-turn in degree, the Libs have drifted more and more center-left. More and more moderate.

And the issue with centrist politics is that, trying to please everyone, no one ends up happy.

I believe sometimes Americans get the impression Trudeau has been the abject WORST priminister in Canadain history.

He very much is not.

He's been, I would describe as . . . An adequate priminister. Plenty of his policies he implemented I liked, though I did not so much appreciate HOW he implemented them. And some of the reasons people give to why he's frustrated them has to do more with back luck on his part, not poor decision-making.

With that said, in the ten years he will have been leader of Canada, he implemented about HALF, if that, of the campaign promises he made. And yes, I get it, politicians say whatever to get elected. But these were not insignificant policy changes he was promising. These were not, "a gender neutral bathroom in every Tim Hortons" campaign promises.

He campaigned on overhauling Canada's voting system to give us something like this:

This would have been a change ALL voters would have appreciated.

BUT, probably somewhere along the line, the Libs likely realized this voting system would hurt THEM more than it would the Cons.

Just ignoring the political enigma that is Bloc for a second, Canada's only TRUE right-wing party is the Cons. And bringing the Bloc back into consideration, Quebec is Canada's most powerful voting province. The way that Canada's votes are tallied gives them a MASSIVE amount of political sway, along with a few other provinces. The western part of Canada can win parties' seats, which isn't NOTHING in our system, but typically, the eastern side is who actually decides who wins PM. Part of the biggest voting problem Cons have is, if Quebec doesn't vote Lib, they typically vote Bloc. The Cons can pretty consistently win in western Canada, and that helps "balance the scales" if you will, but even so.

Con voters are typically in thinner supply. Lib voters are more abundant but are typically just voting Lib out of fear of the Cons winning the PM seat and/or majority, and can be split by third parties.

A NARROW margin of pro-estabilshment, vaguely progressive libertarians actually like . . . Actively LIKE the Liberal Party.

As the Libs have gotten more and more moderate to try and attract the middle-right former Harper Tory voters and the Cons have captured that Maple-MAGA right-wing extremists, this has only become more and more so the case.

Lily is NOT a politically coherent woman. But, MOST people aren't, dare I say. That's why I gave JJ McCullough as an example of a coherent conservative Canadian voter. I realize that.

I'm here to be your political Canadian guide, okay? Lily dickriding Trudeau is NOT a sign that she's a leftist. Actual Canadian liberals aren't big fans of the Canadian Liberal party as a whole either, even if they're not just voting for them, though they'd rather vote third party.

I'm not even saying it's WRONG for her to point out that the Liberal Party is not nearly as fucking useless as the classic Tory Cons can be.

I'm saying I have good reason to believe that Lily thinks the Libs are MUCH MORE left-wing than they actually are. Her assessment of the conflict and drama between the NDP and the Libs, along with all of the other right-wing redhoric she's laundered with leftist language over the years, BY CANADIAN STANDARDS, a conservative.

O b j e c t I v e l y.

That must wait for part 3.

[dwsavideos]

My WATER FOR ELEPHANTS Opinion • The Big Top on Broadway!

Going into this show, I already liked the songs, but I didn’t know the story at all because I haven’t read the book or seen the movie (I just knew there was a circus lol). I went into it fairly blind, and what I saw on that stage for two and a half hours was nothing short of whimsical. I’ve gotta give a review of my experience without giving too much of the plot away- so this is gonna be kind of informal. I’m basically just gonna talk about what I love about this show because it definitely has flaws like any show does, but I genuinely think people are being too hard on this show. It has so much potential, so much insane superhuman talent, and it is so well designed. Just because there aren’t 50 Cirque du Soleil-esque acts or Grammy winning pop songs in it doesn’t make it bad. Not to mention that the original source material was difficult to work with for sure! I think that while this show is far from mainstream, it still has that classic flashy Broadway show vibe- and what a relief that is. I could talk about this show and the talented people in it for ages. My messages and asks are always open, so if you want to share an opinion or experience, or wanna chat about the show, I’m here for it! Okay, time to dive in:

For some background information, Water For Elephants is set in America during the 1930s, (I think 1931) and of course, at a traveling circus called Benzini Brother’s Circus which is in great financial trouble and is definitely not the most spectacular circus during that time. They manage to stay afloat under the management of the ringmaster, August played by Paul Alexander Nolan. Throughout the show, we see signs that the circus performers and workers (Kinkers and Rousts), and the animals are not treated fairly by August.

Jacob Jankowski played by Grant Gustin is a young man on the run from his personal troubles and jumps onto the nearest train, not knowing or caring where it was going. He meets some dodgy characters who reveal themselves as Rousts or circus stagehand workers (Wade being the main, scariest one, played by Wade McCollum). Jacob soon meets an older Roust named Camel, played by Stan Brown. Camel convinces Jacob to stay at least one day. Jacob doesn’t love the idea, and neither does Wade. They come to an agreement and all parties reluctantly decide to work together for one day only. One day turns into a lot longer- and now the fun begins.

The ensemble had great dancers and amazing circus artists (who also all danced). The circus artists in this show are unnamed ensemble characters, so I will call them by their actual names (There were a few swings on the night I saw the show): Antoine Boissereau, Gabriel Olivera, Isabella Diaz, Keaton Hentoff-Killian, Nicolas Jelmoni, Harley McLeish, Sam Renaud, and Alex Royer.

The ensemble of dancers who play Kinkers and Rousts were: Brandon Block, Paul Castree, Caroline Kane, Marissa Rosen, Charles South, Sean Stack, Matthew Varvar, and Michelle West.

The understudies and swings who were on as leads and featured characters for this performance were: Samantha Gershman as Marlena, Taylor Colleton as Barbara, and Michael Mendez as Walter. The ensemble and circus swings were Brandon Block, Michelle West, and Harley McLeish. As usual, Gregg Edelman played Mr. Jankowski. Almost every single one of these performers was a puppeteer at some point in the show.

The great circus stunts start right off the bat in the second number “The Road Don’t Make You Young” when the cast sets up the big top tent. Needless to say, their Tony Performance of this song does not do this cast justice at all. Seeing this live was awesome. Especially Gabriel Olivera, Isabella Diaz, Keaton Hentoff-Killian, and Alex Royer doing impressive (and kinda scary) tricks on the Chinese Pole and then also singing and dancing with the rest of the company like it was nothing. The number also included many hand to hand tricks where Alex and Isabella were thrown and flipped and caught by their porters. They made it look effortless. Some other big circus numbers were “The Lion Has Got No Teeth”, “The Grand Spec”, and “Zostań”. In the span of these numbers, there were flips, hand to hand tricks, aerial acrobatics, juggling, Chinese pole, Cyr wheel, hula hoops, and more! There were even several quick scenes that was just a few circus performs on stage doing their thing!

Also, I have to say that Grant Gustin was great! He has a great voice and he portrayed Jacob brilliantly considering his character is pretty bland. Paul Alexander Nolan stole the show as many good villains tend to do. Samantha Gershman didn’t miss a beat as Marlena, and her voice was stunning! Wade McCollum as Wade was one of my favorite performances as far as acting goes (plus he has one hell of a voice). And the ensemble of both the dancers and circus performers were out of this world. The choreography was so fun to watch and the way it was mixed perfectly with the circus tricks had me on the edge of my seat every time there was a big group number.

My favorite three moments in the show:

3: The Stampede: For a show with lots of fun tricks, colorful costumes, and flashy numbers, things got pretty dark towards the end. I won’t get into the really dark part, but one scene near the end that was really well done was a scene without any singing or dancing- the Stampede. This scene was staged incredibly, and it was very haunting. The cast turned into puppeteers and their movements along with the lighting design, sound design, and Gregg Edelman’s narration caused it to be impossible to even blink during this scene. In particular, Caroline Kane did a fantastic job portraying Rosie the Elephant for this scene and throughout the show. She was one of the six people who puppeteered Rosie. Caroline controlled Rosie’s trunk and also conveyed Rosie’s emotions with her facial expressions. At times, she was the sole person responsible for making us believe there was an elephant on stage- and she was brilliant. She portrayed Rosie’s joy, pain, fear, and anger so so well!

2: The Dream/“Go Home”: This moment was before the stampede scene, and it was so cool to watch. Once again, the lighting design and staging was very well done, and Grant Gustin was excellent in this scene as he grappled with his inner thoughts. In Theatre, a dream sequence scene could sometimes be corny, but this one was necessary. Another very haunting moment in the show, this dream sequence came at a pivotal time in the plot, and gave us a deeper look into Jacob’s mind, along with a major choice that he had to make. The beginning of the scene was like something out of the 2013 Pippin revival, with the circus performers nightmarishly taunting Jacob on a dimly lit stage. August made an appearance too, also taunting Jacob- who’s conscience was trying to tell him to murder August. During this dream, the circus performers become an ensemble of Jacob’s fears and desires. They do daring stunts, walking and sliding backwards on tightropes, twirl in aerial hoops, two performers juggle knives- tossing them back and forth while Jacob stands still in between them. Jacob grabs a knife from midair and contemplates if he should use it. August cracks his whip at the lion, puppeteered by Gabriel. Soon Marlena and Rosie appear in Jacob’s dream as his only two comforting companions. During this nightmare, things start to get real for Jacob. The opening guitar of “Go Home” begins, and Jacob stands by and watches helplessly as his parents parish in a car accident. The way this car accident is staged is not loud or gruesome, but kind of peaceful- maybe since Jacob didn’t witness it when it happened, it’s how he imagined it or hoped it was like. There is no car at all, but it was easy to tell what’s happening due to the blocking and great choreography. Jacob’s parents are portrayed by Keaton and Alex- Keaton pretends to hold on to the wheel until blaring headlights flash in their faces and disaster strikes in slow motion. The other circus performers are assembled behind Jacob’s parents, staged as if they’re pushing them into their demise. After impact, Keaton and Alex are physically pulled out from that reality by the others, and back into the circus troupe. The movement and choreography in this scene is what carries the story as Jacob sings the song “Go Home”. The song ends with the ensemble softly singing “there’s nothing you won’t do/there’s nothing you can do” over and over as Jacob holds a knife, hovered over a sleeping August. The song ends with the characters back in reality. All in all, this scene was a great mesh of musical theatre, physical theatre, and circus.

1: “Easy”: When Jacob and the audience first meets Marlena. Here, she’s caring for her beloved injured horse Silver Star, puppeteered by two circus performers Antoine and Keaton. The horse puppet timidly approaches Marlena, limping. As Keaton left the scene, Antoine smoothly handed off the Silver Star puppet (head) to Marlena, who sang as she simultaneously soothed and controlled the horse’s head while it rested on her lap in pain. Then Antoine’s aerial silk act began. It was an outstanding and elegant thing to watch. He perfectly portrayed the spirit of Silver Star longing to be healthy and free. He swung over the audience in an aerial dance, and at one point, he swung out as the silks held him by his neck. His skills during that beautiful routine along with the emotional song that Samantha Gershman sang perfectly was a highlight for sure. Antoine was a standout circus artist and dancer, and was really fun to watch the whole show. If you haven’t gotten the chance, listen to “Easy” on the cast recording- it’s the best song in the album.

Some details I enjoyed:

One of the things I noticed while reading the playbill was the amount of Non-Binary performers in this show! There are five NB performers in W4E. (Let me know of you want to know who they are, because I don’t necessarily name drop here). Interestingly I noticed that every costume that one of the female presenting NB performers wore could be considered gender-neutral such as pants and overalls which looked just like the outfits the men and male presenting cast members wore in the show. I just thought that it was a nice touch that one of the NB performers got to wear gender-neutral costumes in a show that takes place in an era when those who were female presenting rarely wore pants or overalls (especially as a performer). Even the leotard they wore in circus scenes was the same as the male presenting circus performers! I’d love to think that this was a conscious choice by the costume designer and director to put the cast in costumes that they are comfortable in regardless of gender.

Every puppet was so intricate and beautifully designed. I sat fairly close but not too close, and I was able to see so many details of the puppets. They were so colorful, lively, and still so different from puppets in shows like the Lion King or Frozen. But like the Lion King, the actors controlling the puppets are very much included in the puppet’s identity. Their facial expressions and physical movements of their entire body, and even their costume colors play a huge part in each animal’s portrayal. However, in Lion King, many of the puppets are more costume than puppet. In W4E, the only animal that is worn as a costume is an Orangutan played by Alex. Overall, I think this was such a cool and original take on animal puppets on stage.

References to other songs in “Go Home” lyrics: Listening to the cast recording over and over, I realized that there are many melodic and lyrical references to other key songs in “Go Home” which I guess can be considered as the 11 o’clock number of W4E. In the song, there are melodic and lyrical references to the following songs: “Anywhere”, “Easy”, and “What Do You Do?” (GO LISTEN!!) I just love when songs that aren’t a Reprise have references to other songs in musicals. It’s very classic Broadway and great storytelling!

Personally, I loved Water For Elephants! The circus parts were the most fun to watch, and everyone in the cast was so amazing and seemed to be super tight-knit. You’re not going to W4E to delve into some deep subject in a contemporary musical and leave with a bitter sweet feeling and a great message, but does every new musical have to be like that nowadays?? I definitely recommend this show, especially for families or people who love the circus, puppets, or depression-era shows! Water for Elephants is a whimsical spectacle with so many fun moments. I think Broadway needs more of that.

If you’re still here, thank you for reading this entire thing lol!

[nyxravessnow]

2023 Dramatical Murder Stage Flashback Report

Long time no see Tumblr!

I am finally back in Japan, and I am coming back with maybe a controversial post.

Back in 2019 I think I was the primary one on Tumblr talking about the stage play and I saw it twice live.

This time I managed to see it 5 times live and I have so many thoughts.

I have not seen the livestreams yet so these are all my thoughts based on seeing it live and on the Ren, Clear, Noiz, and Vitri routes which I saw. I will also not be putting in screenshots as I don't have any from the livestream.

Recast

Before I get into the report I just felt like I should deal with the recast I understand was hard for some people.

I just wanna put out a few thoughts i had on this.

No.1: Your feelings of being sad to not see Seiichan back are completely valid

No.2: Seiichan himself decided to step back and the fact that Nao was announced so soon shows that he was the understudy, and Seiichan knew about this. Therefore, Nao being there as an understudy allowed Seiichan to prioritize his health and not worry about the show his friends were so excited to return to was canceled and feel pressure to perform for them or fans.

No.3: Tsuchiya Naotake had less than a month to prepare everything for the character and yet developed such a deep and close bond with the cast, the character of Aoba, and the stage. He improved so much as the show continued and poured his heart and soul into this role. He respected the character that Seiichan set up for him and took care of the role very well.

I want to emphasize that Seiichan was not in this show and still made money from all the merchandise that had been prepared, however Nao had barely any merch, which is often the bulk of their pay for stages in Japan, and yet never once complained about the amount of work he was putting in. In the final show he even said that he has never once had negative thoughts about the show or thought it was to hard, he just loves it so much.

P.S. I am not saying Seiichan doesn't deserve to get money from merch, I am just pointing out that it is slightly unfair on Nao.

Tsuchiya Naotake

Since I've been talking about him, I will start my thoughts on the play by talking about the man playing the lead.

I will say that I liked Nao before this role in something else and was very excited to see him, however I feel like he still won me over as the show went on and I discovered trepidations about his performance I didn't know I had. I just want to highlight my thoughts by specifically talking about 3 shows that I saw.

Additionally, this is a bad situation that was not Nao's fault and this is probably the worst situation to get cast in your first main role but Nao never showed any negativity towards Aoba or the fans for this.

5/2 - Ren's Route

The first show I saw him in was Ren's route on the 2nd. I immediately knew he was very good for the role, but overall was not wowed by his performance. I think a big part of this was his chemistry with Shogo which I will get back to later.

5/5 - Clear’s Route

I could not have been more shocked by the difference only a couple of days made to Nao's performance. While on the 2nd he still seemed extremely nervous and to be holding himself back, on the 5th he was throwing himself as hard as he could into the role. My friend and I had spoken before the show about how we believed Seiichan had been better at screaming in Mink's SA scene in the first half and that night Nao performed that scene and put every ounce of himself into it. His chemistry with Yuuki was off the charts and when Yuuki (Clear) was giving him 100% of that Clear love he was giving it back 100%. Clear's route is also had bc it has 4 adlib sections for Aoba and Shogo (Ren) was being a bad senpai and not helping at all. His adlibs were so funny and really got Aoba. My favourite being 'I wonder what Clear’s face is gonna be like. Well, he has to be good looking as no one with an ass that good has a bad face.' Overall in this show he felt more relaxed and at ease with the show.

5/6 - Vitri Route

Nothing in heaven or earth could have prepared me for this route. I did ask my friend not to spoil me and I'm glad I went in blind but wow it went so much harder than I expected and Nao performed so incredibly. This route would be nothing without Nao's acting and the fact that it was so good is predominantly down to him. He was willing to go quite far to deliver a performance as game accurate as possible. His subtle changes from blank, to fear, to sadness, to anger, to pleasure were incredible to see and I was genuinely moved by his acting.

He gave himself freely to his costars and trusted in them to look after him and simply immersed himself in the performance which is difficult to do, especially for a show such as that.

I am so glad he got a route all of his own where he cannot be compared to anyone else as I feel this took the pressure off him and relaxed into it.

P.S. Also if you see any post show pics around curtain call of Nao looking blank they are most likely from Vitri route as in all the other curtain calls he was smiling so widely and was so happy, and the contrast with Vitri's was amazing.

He put his whole heart into this show, did so much research and loves this show and every character truly so much

He could have acted the exact same without the same love for the show and he still would have been excellent

But the amount of positive things he said about the other actors, characters, rehearsals, all the routes, and the play in general really showed a deep love and appreciation for the original and the fans. He even was constantly positive about the Vitri route, shocking even their actors, as he poured out his love for every single one in an effort to make the audience love it even a little bit more

He had to, rather quickly, learn a really difficult script and choreography (created for another actor with acrobatic talents that he did not possess prior to this show) And by the final shows there was no way you could have known any of that from just watching the show

Aoba is truly one of the hardest roles in not just 2.5D, not just Japanese theatre, but theatre in general bc you basically have to learn 6 separate scripts, hard dance and fight choreography, be on stage for like 2 hours straight and in every scene, do all of the sex scenes too

But this never once dampened his love or spirit.

In the first show for Noiz route, he forgot two of his lines and had a couple of seconds of silence before he remembered them and he was crying at curtain call.

He put so much pressure onto himself and delivered to us I think some of the best acting in 2.5D, especially from a relatively new actor

As a result of this role, it would not be an exaggeration to say he is among my favourite actors.

I also appreciate how, despite this being his first ever experience of anything BL (yaoi is a term used exclusively in the west), he approached it with 0 judgement to the genre or fans. He said he once believed it was a genre where men fell in love with men, but through dmmd has discovered it is rather about a love that gender is not dependent on, or someone you fall in love with that happens to be a man.

Also, he is an absolute Koujaku simp and it was so sweet to see his eyes glitter every time Koujaku did anything. (This made me want to see Koujaku's route so much as my friend said it was their best one and Nao even added an extra kiss in the final performance)

Whatever you think about Nao and the recast, he has now played Aoba for the same amount of time as Seiichan and has made the role as much his own as Seiichan did. Aoba belongs to Seiichan and he now belongs to Nao too.

Routes

I now want to finally give my thoughts on some of the routes and the show in general. The only order I have put them in is how much I have to say about them.

5/2-5/5-5/6-5/7-5/7 First Half, 'Mizuki's route'

Unofficially dubbed Mizuki's route by some of the cast, which is incorrect pls give us actual Mizuki route, the first half of the play is a simple improvement on the original. The group has different dynamics, acting choices are different, and there are parts I prefer with Nao and parts I prefer with Seiichan but overall as a show, it is an improvement on the original and the blocking and staging sees little change. Naoya (Mizuki) screams his heart after scrap and he is truly the mvp of the first half.

5/7 - Noiz's route

I will start with the show I have the least to say about. It was good! Nao and Rikiya (Noiz) have good chemistry and the show felt very true to the original. Personally Noiz and his route isn't for me and I think some of the jumps they make in the story can be a bit jarring but overall is very good. The hospital sex scene is still really weird in its choreography and I don't necessarily vibe with it. If you liked it before l, good bc it is exactly the same XD

5/2-5/7 - Ren's Route

I'm not gonna say too much about this route bc I don't want to be negative but I do think this is the worst route on stage, including Koujaku's and Mink's too from what I have heard about them. Nao and Shogo have fantastic chemistry...as brothers. They never give off the vibe of lovers and first day I saw the sex scene they barely looked at each other. Nao is a very reciprocal actor and it was clear that there were not really any romantic sparks flying from either side for the route. This is the only route I will say, and ever say, that I wish we'd had Seiichan instead of Nao for. Shogo felt like he was holding himself back with Nao and, with how well he knows Seiichan, I can't see him doing that with him. Whenever not with Ren, Nao was excellent but I was left wanting a bit more from their dynamic.

5/5 - Clear’s Route

This was beautiful and heartbreaking in all the right ways. On the final night of Clear’s Route, Yuuki poured every single ounce of love he has for Clear into the role and Nao answered this in kind. During their final sex scene there was not a dry eye around me.

Yuuki delivered the cutest Clear but also showed how mature Clear could be when speaking to his brothers or Toue. Despite not having much to work with as Toue not having an official actor to play off, Yuuki screamed, shouted, and showed us the human heart that Clear has. His kindness, his love, and his maturity.

Like I said above Nao's adlibs during Clear’s various dressing scenes were also very amusing, and it contrasted well with the heartbreaking moments in Clear’s Route.

5/6 - Vitri's route

So, where to begin. I do want to say, in my very personal opinion, this route would have been very different either Seiichan and I don't know that he would have been comfortable with going as far as Nao did for parts. This is purely speculation and is not meant to demean Seiichan as an actor. It is a hard thing to do and we are not owed him feeling comfortable with it.

Sections that are covered in this route are:

- Beginning of Ren's route

- Aoba abduction

- Introduction of Aoba in Vitri's house

- Shower scene

- How Vitri became fans of Aoba

- Picking a hand

- Virus' room

- The box

- Trip's room

- Being taken from the box and back to Virus' room

- Vitri past

- Vitri and Aoba scene

- Ending with Aoba's situation after half a year with them

We did also get to see them talking to Mizuki about Dry Juice and Morphine but I cannot remember where this slotted in.

Whereas other routes had 2-3 min sex scenes, Vitri route had 3 seperate scenes, not including force feeding, all about 2-3 mins.

It was weirdly moving(?) to watch? Nao's acting was just phenomenal and was incredible to see three completely different sides to Aoba. Modern Aoba, past Aoba, and Vitri route Aoba, within a short span of time and acted so differently.

Also, Nao's dancing without a shirt on to Masculine Devil is something that has to be witnessed.

I love how before the curtain call for every show Nao was smiling ear to ear in every route as he looked at the character Aoba had fallen for, but in Vitri, he removed all expression from his face and just looked empty.

There was a lot of hilarity about the fact that when the dancing starts Aoba is just lying on the ground as everyone claps their hands and waves their ringlights.

Overall

If you are thinking of which one to buy, this is my ranking of the ones I've seen:

- Vitri (mainly for Nao's acting) 9/10

- Clear 8.5/10

- Noiz 7/10

- Ren 6.5/10

This show was a fantastic Rerun that showcased many actors improvements from the years they've been away and an amazing performance from a new Aoba.

I can only hope that we get another stage soon and get to see more of these actors and characters.

Let me know if you have any questions or what me to expand on anything!

[sillyname30]

Actors get their breaks on Broadway in different ways. Steven Huynh, who has spent the past few years working primarily in regional theater and doing workshops for upcoming musicals such as The Lost Boys and Crazy Rich Asians, got his big break when he became the standby for Darren Criss in the new musical Maybe Happy Ending, now at the Belasco Theatre.

Huynh spoke with TheaterMania about deciding to pursue acting during high school after being nominated for a Dazzle Award, how his first Broadway show affected him, and what it’s like working with Criss, whom he first met on the set of Glee.

The following conversation has been condensed and edited for clarity.

What was the deciding factor for you in pursuing acting?

I was planning to be a music teacher. I mostly played trumpet in high school, but one year I ended up playing Seymour in Little Shop of Horrors, and I was eventually recognized as one of five Best Actor nominees for the inaugural Dazzle Awards at [Cleveland’s] Playhouse Square, which is the regional version of the Jimmy Awards. While working on that awards show — it was so cool being with 100 other kids — I came to the realization that I could make acting into a career, even though I didn’t win the award. It also was a huge factor that my mom and dad told me I should be doing this. They are Vietnamese immigrants who own a nail salon, so their support has meant so much to me!

Was being on Broadway always your goal?

I would say Broadway has been my dream ever since 2016, when my high school class came to New York and saw Aladdin on Broadway. Seeing the representation onstage of people who looked like me was really inspiring. When my agent called to tell me that I had been chosen for Maybe Happy Ending, I immediately went to write down “At 4:18 on July 10, you found out you are making your Broadway debut.” And then I called my mom and dad to thank them. I still have a sense of disbelief that I’m here. But my biggest feeling is gratitude.

What is Maybe Happy Ending is about?

It is a musical that takes place in this future society that has created humanoid helper-bots whose main purpose is to serve others. But since they are always upgrading to the newest models, these two older robots, Oliver [played by Criss] and Claire [played by Helen J. Shen], are put into this retirement center where they meet and come to terms with mortality, being human, and falling in love. My hope is that, even though the musical deals with advanced AI, audiences will leave the theater with a renewed sense of wonder about the world around us today. I also hope they will sing or hum the score for days to come.

You are not only the standby for Darren Criss, but you’re also an understudy for Marcus Choi, who plays various roles in the show. That sound like a lot of work.

Yes, it is a lot that I have to learn all these parts. But I get to watch and observe this show from the ground up and I get to be part of the conversation, which is so exciting. I learn a lot of the roles simply from osmosis, being in the room every day. Still, when I am home, in Harlem, my script is completely hooked up and I am constantly reviewing lines and music on my commute on the subway.

Are you enjoying working with Darren?

I absolutely admire and adore Darren. It’s so incredible being in the rehearsal room with him — we actually didn’t meet until we got into the rehearsal room — because he takes such an intellectual, in-depth approach to creating his character. I remember watching him in Glee while growing up; I actually used his version of “Someone Only We Know” as my audition song. Luckily, he thought that was hilarious. Anyway, a lot of our camaraderie comes not only from our Asian American heritage, but from our shared love of food. A lot of what we talk about is our experience of eating at our favorite restaurants, and now we try to go out when we can and find the best ramen, pho, or Korean BBQ. It’s so fun!

[cellophaine]

Reblogging this chapter because I made some changes to Reader's background. The changes are not significant, but they add to the severity and harshness of the environment Reader was in (in my opinion). They're in the conversation when Reader starts explaining her background to Matt and why she quit.

I'll paste the changes under the cut just in case you don't want to scroll.

But for Matt's sake, you don't go into any of that.

“Well … being a principal dancer in my old company is a great honour since we're– they're much smaller than the American Ballet Theatre, New York City Ballet, etc … There were, and still are, only two dancers in that role. They were Christine and Guilherme. Christine'd been with the company since the early days. Many people came to the shows to see her dance. She and Guilherme brought in so many loyal audiences and sponsors over the years. So you can imagine what a big deal it was when Christine decided to retire."

He nods, his understanding and inclination to follow the story are apparent.

"Roger, the artistic director, wanted to appoint a first soloist, which is just a step below principal, to take over in her place. I was a soloist, and I was Christine's understudy for a few years until her retirement. I performed when she couldn't, when she needed to reserve her strength for important shows, on top of the roles I had to prepare and perform in those productions. So I thought it was my opportunity to get that promotion, you know? I always brought my best to work, and I pushed myself even harder that season to prove that I have what it takes to be a principal dancer. I was in and out of classes, rehearsals, and performances every day for over three months. On the days we had two shows a day, oftentimes I'd have to perform in both so Christine could have a break."

Matt listens intently, following your words with an attentiveness that you find endearing.

“In the final week of Sleeping Beauty, I had this pain along my heel. But I ignored it and pushed through out of fear that they would dismiss me. At that point, they already had a favourite. One of the directors even told me that I should quit while I was ahead and that I should be happy staying as a soloist."

You swallow the lump in your throat and go on.

"I couldn't take my bow that night, because as soon as my part was done and I went behind the stage, I passed out. It turned out I got an Achilles rupture.

“I had the surgery and was in a boot for a while. I was so desperate to show them my dedication and how good I was by going back to the studio just the day after they allowed me to go without the boot. And I made the injury worse. I was admitted for a partial rupture a week later.”

You thought you could do it. Bearing and hiding the pain so you would stand out as the best selection for the new principal dancer. Yet, all of that hard work didn’t matter in the end. It never mattered the moment Claudia Mavis signed a contract with Lady Liberty.

“In the hospital, Roger told me that he decided to promote Claudia, even though by that point she had been with the company for only one season. Then, I found out that Claudia left her previous company because they wouldn’t promote her. But here's the funniest part. After class one day, Claudia told me that they offered her a new contract two weeks before my accident. So I never had the chance in the first place."

You chuckle bitterly, remembering the tightness of your chest when you found out.

"They announced Christine's replacement at the last show of the season. Roger expected me to continue my duties as a soloist and an understudy for Claudia. But I just … couldn't do it. So I quit.”

You take a long sip of your drink after the story.

Chapter I: En Avant

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff.

Word Count: 5.2k

Author's Note: The first chapter is finally here!! I'm very excited to bring this new series to you. It's what I've been thinking about for a few months now. It came to me while I was still working on A Languor Spell, and now I can give it my full attention. Thank you for your patience! I hope you will enjoy the first chapter!

P/S: This is my first time writing in present tense, so if there's any mistake please let me know so I can fix it!

Disclaimer: I'm not a professional ballet dancer. I'm an adult beginner, and I've been taking classes consistently for over a year now. I just want to say that the series isn't written with the experience of a professional ballerina, but with my love for the art and the extensive research that I've done and will continue to do. I don't choose to write the Reader as a ballerina because of the aesthetic, but because I think there are so many things to explore in the original story that I've come up with, with the Reader being in the industry.

GIF Source: @/petertingle-yipyip

There has always been an emptiness residing within the frame of your body. In the absence of your old life, it has grown expeditiously. It carves into your body and makes a home in the forefront of your mind. On worse days, you feel as if anyone can see at first glance, how incomplete of a person you are. On better days, like today, you can hide it well, even from your closest friend. But right now, sitting in a dimly lit bar across from the friend you have known since you moved to this city at 18, you feel the person you're supposed to be has taken your anatomy apart. You're disembodied, scattered, and fractional.

Jo notices your silence and reaches over the table, laying her hand atop yours.

“Have you thought about my offer?”

Jo’s proposal. How can you not think about it? It has never left your mind ever since she mentioned it. Her newly acquired gym could be a place for you to get back to dancing in complete privacy. And you won’t have to pay a dime.

“I spruced up the place a little bit and will be adding more equipment. I can get whatever you need so it can be a proper space for you to practice.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I don’t know if I’m ready.”

Jo casts a sympathetic look at you, her voice careful.

“How’s your foot?”

You flex and point the right foot under the table, recalling the phantom pain that was your consistent companion for the most part of last year.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Are you still seeing Amy?”

“Of course. She’d bite my head off if I missed our appointment.”

You share a knowing chuckle, knowing Amy's personality. You know her through Jo, and they dated briefly in college. The two stayed friends afterward. After leaving Lady Liberty Ballet Theatre, your physical health was left to your own management. Your gaps of knowledge were filled in by Amy, a physical therapist who stepped in and offered her help voluntarily when Jo mentioned your situation. You still meet biweekly at her practice in Harlem, and the three of you hang out from time to time.

“Come to my gym.”

She hastily continues once she sees the decline perches on your pressed lips.

“It’s free.”

“I don’t want to be a bother. You’ll have to get a barre, and the flooring might not be suitable–“

“I don’t care about the cost. I just want to do this for you. Let someone do a nice thing for you every once in a while.”

You meet her eyes, resisting her act of kindness with silence. You know how to pick your battles, and this is the one you have lost from the start, judging by Jo's stern gaze. You sigh.

“I’ll think about it.”

A victory smile graces her lips.

“That’s all I’m asking.”

Jo leans into the table, her hand reaching for yours.

“I want to see you dance on the stage again. You’re a beautiful ballerina, and I know this is not the end for you.”

You know she means well, but her words feel like claws, sinking their sharp ends into your heart. You haven't danced since the injury, and a part of you knows that you might never dance as well as you once did. The best version of you had lived that life to its fullest potential, the life of endless classes and rehearsals, soldout shows, ending many nights and seasons to the deafening cheers from the audience. Your current self is only a shadow, living a partial existence and mourning the past as time passes and your grasp on it weakens.

You want the endless optimism Jo seems to possess. She’s always so assertive in everything she does. From her university days pursuing a bachelor's degree in sports science to her boxing competition days to buying a gym, she has a sense of self-assurance that carries her throughout the years you've known her ever since you became roommates when you first moved to New York. And you admire that about her endlessly. Her goals might vary, but her passion for them never wavers. Her faith in you seems to share the same sentiment.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, hoping your face doesn't betray your true thoughts. Jo squeezes your hand and lets go. She checks her wristwatch, and with a silent glance, you understand that she has to leave. Jo meets you as you stand up from your side of the booth, drawing you into a crushing hug.

“Will you be okay here?”

She pulls back. You smile and pat her shoulder.

“I’ll be fine. Just want to finish my drink.”

She takes a step backward as she waves.

“Good luck tomorrow!”

You raise your hand in response and watch her tall and brawny frame vanish through the door. You drop your arm, but you don't sit down. Taking a discreet glance at the bar, your heart rate spikes ever so slightly at the sight of the stranger you noticed earlier when you bought the drinks.

As you waited for your drinks, he came in and settled for a spot at the bar. The lady whose name you learned earlier, Josie, greeted him, asking where his friends were, so you assumed he was a regular. He was good-looking, you admitted before finding yourself staring at him. You averted your gaze, but couldn't help taking in other details. The folded cane rested on the bar top as Josie slid a glass of amber liquid in front of him. The scarred knuckles as he brought it to his lush lips. The suit was pristine for the most part except for the minimal wrinkles from the day's wear and the loosened tie. The red-tinted glasses perched on his pronounced nose, under the tousled sweep of dark hair. The soft smile brightened his handsome face as the other bartender told him something, which you had to tear your eyes away from when Josie placed the drinks in front of you. You thanked her and headed back to your table, feeling a touch of disappointment in your throat.

There is no denying that you want to approach him. But your nerves intervene with all the questions. What if he rejected you? What if he thought you were a creep for approaching him? What if he just wanted to be left alone? He has been sitting by the bar by himself ever since he came in, you notice. You'd ask if you could join him, and possibly buy him a drink if he was up for it. If he said no, that'd be fine. You would respect his wish and leave him alone. You have a feeling you'd regret it if you didn't at least try.

You gulp down your drink for a little liquid courage and make your way over to the bar. Your heart rate accelerates the closer you get to him, but you are determined to get over the little hurdle. You stop within a conversational distance and use your best composed voice.

“Hi, may I join you?”

He turns in his seat and gives you a friendly smile.

“Of course not. Please do.”

The high chair is a comfortable and respectful distance away from his, but still close enough for a private conversation. The stranger has angled his body toward you, and his openness eases the knot in your stomach. At this distance, you can see that he is even more handsome up close. Heat seeps into your cheeks at the full comprehension of his handsomeness up close. The neon signs around help shape the shadows and highlights that are already there in his features. The strong jawline and defined nose blend in harmony with the soft hair and luscious lips. You find yourself unable to tear your eyes away from his moving lips, and only a brief moment later you realize he has asked for your name.

You tell him and laugh nervously, blaming the lively ambience around you. He humours you with a chuckle of his own and reciprocates.

"Matt. Nice to meet you."

“Nice to meet you.”

He reaches out with a hand, and you grab it. Your heart beats a little faster at the feel of his hand, warm and a little rough. You pull away first, conscious of the coldness of your hand. You eye his almost empty glass.

“Would you like another drink?”

“If that makes you stay with me for the rest of the evening, I’d love one.”

Charming. You allow an amused and breathy chuckle to escape, and order another fill of your drinks. When Josie turns away to make them, Matt asks.

“What are we celebrating tonight?”

You think about it for a moment.

“This is not really a celebration since I haven’t gotten the job yet.”

“When is the interview?”

“It's … tomorrow.”

His brows raise above the glasses.

“Are you nervous?”

“A little bit. It’s been a while since my last normal job.”

“What were you doing before?”

Josie puts down the drinks in front of you.

“I’m a– I was a ballerina.”

“Was?”

You run a finger over the cool and smooth edge of the glass, taking a moment to tell a stranger about one of your worst shame.

“I haven’t danced professionally in over a year."

“May I ask why?"

The edge of his lips settles into a neutral line. No pity, just a willingness to listen. It is exactly what you need.

“Yes, but it's just … complicated.”

“How so?”

The old life that you once lived feels so out of your grasp now. Besides the occasional flareups, most mornings, you get up with minimal or no degree of soreness or pain, and you fear that signals the end of your life as a ballerina.

Retirement in your late twenties wasn't something you thought of when you were 18, fresh out of high school with an offer letter from Lady Liberty Ballet Theatre. Moving from a small, sylvan town to a big, lively city like New York was a dream come true. You got to live out the life your younger self used to dream about. How wonderful it was. Dancing on the big stage before the bright stage lights in front of the audience. The early classes, late stage calls, costume fittings, and demanding rehearsals leading up to the shows were all worth it. Because when you got to dance, it was just you and the music. Your body knew the techniques, learned the steps and how to master them. You bent music with your carefully crafted movements and turned the piece into your own interpretation. You worked hard on your craft and artistic abilities, and you thought that it paid off with your promotion from corps de ballet to the first soloist assembly after six years.

But for Matt's sake, you don't go into any of that.

“Well … being a principal dancer in my old company is a great honour since we're– they're much smaller than the American Ballet Theatre, New York City Ballet, etc … There were, and still are, only two dancers in that role. They were Christine and Guilherme. Christine'd been with the company since the early days. Many people came to the shows to see her dance. She and Guilherme brought in so many loyal audiences and sponsors over the years. So you can imagine what a big deal it was when Christine decided to retire."

He nods, his understanding and inclination to follow the story are apparent.

"Roger, the artistic director, wanted to appoint a first soloist, which is just a step below principal, to take over in her place. I was a soloist, and I was Christine's understudy for a few years until her retirement. I performed when she couldn't, when she needed to reserve her strength for important shows, on top of the roles I had to prepare and perform in those productions. So I thought it was my opportunity to get that promotion, you know? I always brought my best to work, and I pushed myself even harder that season to prove that I have what it takes to be a principal dancer. I was in and out of classes, rehearsals, and performances every day for over three months. On the days we had two shows a day, oftentimes I'd have to perform in both so Christine could have a break."

Matt listens intently, following your words with an attentiveness that you find endearing.

“In the final week of Sleeping Beauty, I had this pain along my heel. But I ignored it and pushed through out of fear that they would dismiss me. At that point, they already had a favourite. One of the directors even told me that I should quit while I was ahead and that I should be happy staying as a soloist."

You swallow the lump in your throat and go on.

"I couldn't take my bow that night, because as soon as my part was done and I went behind the stage, I passed out. It turned out I got an Achilles rupture.

“I had the surgery and was in a boot for a while. I was so desperate to show them my dedication and how good I was by going back to the studio just the day after they allowed me to go without the boot. And I made the injury worse. I was admitted for a partial rupture a week later.”

You thought you could do it. Bearing and hiding the pain so you would stand out as the best selection for the new principal dancer. Yet, all of that hard work didn’t matter in the end. It never mattered the moment Claudia Mavis signed a contract with Lady Liberty.

“In the hospital, Roger told me that he decided to promote Claudia, even though by that point she had been with the company for only one season. Then, I found out that Claudia left her previous company because they wouldn’t promote her. But here's the funniest part. After class one day, Claudia told me that they offered her a new contract two weeks before my accident. So I never had the chance in the first place."

You chuckle bitterly, remembering the tightness of your chest when you found out.

"They announced Christine's replacement at the last show of the season. Roger expected me to continue my duties as a soloist and an understudy for Claudia. But I just … couldn't do it. So I quit.”

“I’m sure when you come back to it, you will still be amazing.”

You don't even try to hide the disbelieving and playful scoff that escapes.

“You're just flattering me.”

There's not a trace of that cocky confidence of a man who thinks he just scores big with a woman because of a throwaway, vague statement he thinks will please her.

“I mean it. I enjoy music and dance performances in a way most can’t. When I really pay attention, I can hear … movements. The rhythm of someone’s feet striking the ground in time with the music when done right is beautiful. The way you talk about ballet shows me how much you truly care for the art. Like you live and breathe it.”

You tug on your bottom lip with your teeth in quiet contemplation before answering him.

“I did. It was a big part of my life.”

“It still can be.”

You let out a noncommittal hum.

"We'll see."

You took sips of your respective drinks, allowing the moment to reset itself. But Matt isn't quite done with the questions. You give him the go-ahead.

"Why ballet?"

“I just love the duality of it. We're supposed to look graceful and effortless while our blisters have blisters, our toes are bleeding, our legs are cramping. We have to dance through all of that and much worse. I like the pain sometimes. It means that I’m doing it right.”

“I didn’t peg you for a masochist.”

The quip takes you by surprise, but you quickly recover.

"Huh. I usually don't reveal that information to anyone until I'm ready to sleep with them."

Matt's tongue licks at his bottom lip, amused by your response.

"Maybe we are just that compatible."

Maybe it is the alcohol that makes you a little lightheaded, but the conversation has taken on a flirty turn, and you lean into each other's space, sharing a bashful, quiet laugh.

The person who took the seat next to yours when you were in the middle of your story bumps into you from behind, pushing you further into Matt's space. They apologize, and you tell them it's fine. The bar top has grown a little more crowded with new visitors. You think about what you could do to make some space when Matt reaches out and pulls your chair closer, so close that your knees touch. The contact is minimal, yet insistent, and you can't help the heat that races to your skin and the wild rhythms of your heart. Even your internal self admits that was the hottest thing Matt has done so far.

You clear your thoughts, focusing on the man sitting so much closer to you now.

“I'm so sorry. I feel like I've been talking about myself for the past hour.”

“No, don't stop. I like it. You have a beautiful voice.”

If he kept this going, you would need to check yourself for a fever. You clear your throat.

“So, what do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer. My partners and I have our own practice here in Hell's Kitchen.”

“Wow, that's amazing. What do you specialize in?”

“A little bit of everything. We started out representing people who can’t afford the legal service. Pro bono work basically. We still do that, but we have been getting more clients who can pay for our services.”

“Hm. It makes perfect sense. I can see that about you. The good guy.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“You know the right questions to ask. You got me talking about myself for … way too long. And your face …”

You trail off. Almost two drinks have worked their magic on your unabashed honesty.

“My face?”

His plush lips lift in a curious smile.

“Yeah, your face. You made me feel … safe and welcome so I could tell my story. Your face stayed neutral when I went on and on about it. No pity or judgment. You looked like you really cared about me, or my case.”

“I do care about you. And for the record, I appreciate every detail you gave me.”

You know that he might say this just to please you, but his earnestness says otherwise.

“Thank you. I needed that. Not many people care about me, especially after my fallout with the company.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It never was.”

Matt puts a hand on yours on the bar top. You stared at his scarred knuckles, your heart beating along the seam of your body with a slight increase in rhythm. Your hand itched to weave itself into his, to lay flat against the warmth of his palm. As if your body has thrown caution to the wind and wants to do just exactly what it wants to, your pointer finger moves involuntarily. He pulls his hand back, an apology on his lips.

“I’m sorry–“

“No, don’t.”

You reach out with the other hand and keep Matt there. You run your thumb over his knuckles as if to soothe him, to tell him that this is okay. You want this. The additional contact exhilarates you, as you haven't felt another’s touch that isn't from Jo or Amy in a long time. Dating has always been the last thing on your mind, especially in the past year. But right here, right now, being with Matt is easy. There is no pressure. No hindrance. Even though you've met only for two hours, Matt has listened to you. He takes a soft and shaky breath, and your eyes follow the way his chest slightly expands.

Your pointer finger traces the raised edges of his scars, and he lets you. The air seems to thin as your pulse drums a frantic beat under your skin.

“Do you beat people up in your client’s honour?”

“Only those who deserve it.”

You chuckle, and you lean into him as if you can't help yourself. The world has gone quiet around you, and the only thing left on your mind is to have his lips on yours. Your voice is only a breath above a whisper, and you're afraid Matt might miss it entirely amongst the loud voices of others.

“Can I kiss you?’’

He releases a sharp exhale as if he has been waiting for you to utter those words all evening.

“Please.”

You lean in, carefully, slowly. His lips slightly part in an open invitation, and you meet in the middle. The touch is gentle, soft tissues overlap in slow, indulgent caresses. Simple, yet it invokes a craving in you. The need for him to be even closer, the yearning to find out the taste of him. Matt touches your jaw, and draws you in closer, deepening the kiss, and you let yourself go. Eager, perching on the territory of desperation as the pressure on your lips grows more insistently. You're entangled in an exhilarating chase, circling around each other like you simply can't resist the pull that's been there since the moment you sat down. Matt silently asks for entry at the seam of your lips, and you respond in kind. His tongue strokes yours and suddenly, there is a new kind of invisible vapour that you're breathing in. It's overwhelming, yet not enough at the same time. You can taste the bitterness of the whisky that makes you wince on normal occasions, but on Matt's tongue, it's addictive and inexplicably irresistible. His air runs wild in your lungs, warming your body from the inside, awakening your nerves.

You break away at the sound of a teasing whistle clearly directed at you, reminding you of where you are. Matt’s face is flushed red, and you want to see how far down the colour goes under the suit and tie he's wearing. His hand is still on your jaw, gently caressing the line like he doesn't want to let go. And you don't want to let him go either.

“Can we go back to your place?”

The question rolls off your tongue, and he nods immediately, a little breathlessly. You stand up from your chairs at the same time. Matt reaches for his coat that is on the back of the chair. You shrug your own on and avert your gaze when Matt subtly adjusts his slacks. You put the bills down for your drinks, shutting Matt down when he objects to the idea. His hand find yours when you offer it to him, and you walk into the brisk air together.

The walk back didn't take too long. Matt held your hand the whole time, and the small gesture made your insides flutter. He lets you go when you reach his apartment. The unit number 6A has almost faded into the dark door. He unlocks the door and tells you where the light switch is. You turn it on, and place your coat in his awaiting palm. You follow him further into the apartment and take in the space.

“Who did you kill to get this place?”

Matt chuckles, discarding his tie with one hand.

“No killing involved. The neon sign out there is enough to chase people away.”

Your gaze falls on the giant, blinking advertisement outside the window.

“Nothing a few blackout curtains won't fix.”

He drapes the black tie on the back of the couch as you turn to the other side of the apartment.

“Do those stairs lead to the rooftop?”

“Yes, they do.”

You keep your back to him.

"Do you go up there often?"

"From time to time."

"This is … wow."

You're not sure why you're stalling. You pretend to look around as you try to brush off a nagging feeling that has settled in the pit of your stomach. Just the nerves, you think. You're out of practice, that's all.

So you clear your throat and say.

“Is your bedroom behind that bigger sliding door?”

He nods. You feel a little out of place, so you gravitate towards him, a familiar presence in a strange space. Matt lets you come to him, giving you all the control. You lean in and attach your lips to his, allowing it to follow the natural progression as it did back at Josie's. Your legs tangle and stumble towards the bedroom, your lips never too far away from one another. You think you might hit the closed door, but before that can happen, Matt pulls you flush against his body with one hand and uses the other to slide the door open in one smooth, practiced move. You pull away when you need to catch your breath.

“May I …”

You touch the side of his glasses. After a quiet moment, he gives you permission to take them, and you do. Slowly, and with the utmost care you can manage, you set them on the bedside table. His eyes are closed when you straighten. You caress his cheek, feeling the way his features form together. Your touch is soothing, and you hope he can feel the patience you offer to him. There is no rush, no pressure. After a long moment, Matt opens his eyes, and you take them in. You can see how he tries to meet your eyes in his own way. The shade of hazel is shrouded by the low light and the occasional shutter of his eyelids.

“Your eyes are beautiful.”

You raise slightly on your tiptoes and kiss his eyelids, feeling his lashes fluttering softly. He waits for you to return to him, and seeks out your lips in a delicate manner.

You fall onto the bed together. Matt braces himself on his forearms so he doesn't crush you. You pull his head down to yours, kissing and nibbling on the stretch of stubble along his jaw. His soft groans of approval encourage the other hand to travel downward, pulling on the white dress shirt. Once it's free from the slacks, you weave your hand inside and run your palm along the expanse of his torso. The dips and raises of his well-defined abs are warm under your palm, and the sensation stokes the molten liquid that's nestling deep inside you. You feel the feverish need edging over that part of you that you want to ignore.

The gradual pullback doesn't feel like a rejection at first, but merely an invitation to follow. So you do, your hands work to unbutton his shirt. But Matt slows you down to a stop, holding your hands to his lips and placing kisses on your palms. You blink, still snarled in the haze.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Confronted. The only word that can describe accurately how you're feeling.

“What makes you say that?”

“Your heart …”

His hand trails from your collarbone to your chest where your heart resides within in a way that feels strangely intimate and not at all invasive. You hadn’t realized how fast your heart was beating. It's pounding. You are more nervous about this than you thought.

“… is beating quite fast. Are you nervous?”

You're safe. It's an innate feeling, and while you can't explain it, you know lying to Matt serves no purpose here. He seems to have a way to read you without using his sight.

“Yes, a little bit. I haven’t done this before. Sleeping with a stranger, I mean.”

“I see. We don’t have to do this.”

You raise yourself on your elbows.

“No, I wanted to go back here, with you. I want this.”

“But it doesn’t mean you owe me anything. If you change your mind for whatever reason, I'm okay with that as well."

Matt presses a kiss to your forehead.

"We can always try this again at another time.”

Guilt claws at you, urging you to do anything to please him.

“I’m sorry. I gave you the wrong signal.”

“Don’t. You have nothing to apologize for.”

He tries to find your hand, and you offer it to him. He gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“I had a good time with a beautiful woman, then I got to kiss her, all in one night, and that's enough.”

You guffaw, throwing your head back at the blatant flirt.

“You don’t even know how I look like.”

“No, I don’t. But I have my own way to tell. You sound beautiful.”

An idea materializes in your mind, and you give in to it. You bring his hand to your face, trailing along the side of your face. He gets the hint and begins his own exploration of your features. The way he takes his time, following the slopes of your face, his touch gentle, ghosting over your skin. He stops at your lips and soothes his thumb over the kiss-swollen flesh. You sigh softly. He gives you one last kiss, his tenderness makes your heart soar.

“Would you like something comfortable to sleep in?”

“I'm fine with anything you have.”

Matt finds his closet and pulls out a grey sweatshirt. He tells you where the bathroom is, and you take the folded shirt with you. You clean yourself up with water before stripping down to your underwear. You put the soft material over your body. It smells like him, and soft, just like him. You come out of the washroom and see his bare back for a split second before he pulls the shirt down. He has changed into a pair of grey sweatpants and a black shirt that hugs his chest and biceps beautifully.

You stand by his bed, not sure where you can come in despite the two of you ruffling the sheets not even ten minutes ago. Matt chooses for you, settling on the space facing the window, leaving you the side which is closer to the sliding door. His sheets are silky soft, and you feel yourself sinking right into them. You turn to face Matt, touching his shoulder. He faces you fully, his eyes settling on a point on the lower part of your face.

“Thank you.”

You whisper.

“Thank me by staying for breakfast.”

“Why breakfast?”

“I can't send you off to your interview on an empty stomach, can I? It's the least I can do.”

A rueful smile graces your lips.

“I can’t wait.”

You fell asleep with ease. At one point during the night, you could feel Matt detach himself from you, and out of a vague desperation that you couldn't process, you held tighter onto him involuntarily. At that, he stopped moving, and you felt a soothing pattern trailing over your head, luring you back to sleep again. His warmth carried you through the few hours that you slept.

It's a little past 4 AM when you wake, and find Matt still sleeping peacefully. Torn, but you come to accept that leaving is for the best. You get out of bed gently, thankful that the wooden floor didn't make a noise. You take his sweatshirt off and fold it, putting it on top of the pillow that you slept on. After putting on the clothes from the night before, you leave with much regret in your heart.

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[succumbed-to-the-void]

vent post

I'm feeling pretty awful about myself tonight. I texted my rabbi on Sunday or Monday to confirm that the cantor won't be there this Shabbat (it's not his usual week) because it's Shabbat Mevarchim Chodesh Adar and he lets me do Birkat HaChodesh when the cantor isn't there. He told me that the cantor probably wouldn't be there (but never texted me back to officially confirm 🙃). I figured he wouldn't be there, so I spent a while this week learning how to do parts of Birkat HaChodesh to Purim melodies. In particular, I figured out how to do "Mi She'asah Nisim" to the tune of "Mishenichnas Adar," because I thought that would be funny and appropriate. I saw the rabbi tonight for Erev Shabbat, and he apparently still doesn't 100% know if the cantor will be there, but it seems like he probably will be there, so I probably wasted all that time learning how to do that. But I still don't KNOW, so I had to come home and practice it tonight anyway. I also had to review basically the whole service even though I have no idea if I'm doing any of it tomorrow, because the rabbi might want me to cover parts of the davening for him while he watches his 3-year-old daughter, but he says he wants to play it by ear. I've told him repeatedly that I want opportunities to be shatz so that I can know it well enough to do it cold if he needs me, but he has been very hesitant to give me opportunities to be shatz.

When I first started coming to this shul, he didn't want me to ever be shatz. He said it was because he wanted to convince the board to hire our cantorial soloist full-time and he said he thought they'd say we couldn't afford it if we could just have a layperson volunteer to do it. Then it turned out (as I found out months later) that our cantorial soloist doesn't even want to work full-time. I guess he was just hoping he could convince them?

I was chatting with the cantorial soloist tonight after services. They have made it very clear to me on multiple occasions that they do not want to be a cantor even though everyone keeps asking them to do it, but apparently they've recently decided to meet with a cantor who will take them under his wing because this cantor was just so insistent about mentoring them to be a cantor. The cantorial soloist was talking to me about this with this begrudging tone, like "ugh, I GUESS I'll become a cantor if that's what everyone wants." They honestly seemed to be dreading meeting with this cantor.

It just felt like a knife to the heart for me because that would be SUCH a dream come true for me, but I know I don't have the singing ability or the general musical ability to make that happen. But I have worked extremely hard to be able to be shatz for the whole service (though I do still need to review it beforehand) and to be able to lein in any trope (though I'm still working on really solidifying some of them). I know how the whole service goes, I went to yeshiva for a year and I've spent countless hours studying Hebrew to become fluent in it. I care so much about this and I've invested so much in this and it honestly just hurts so much that I am never going to be able to afford rabbinical school or probably even getting a Master's in Jewish studies. And meanwhile this person who doesn't even fucking WANT this is succeeding because they're just...more talented than I am. But they don't know as much about Judaism and Jewish prayer as I do! The rabbi put them charge of leading the tefillah for the kids one day during Hebrew school, basically because they're a really good singer. But they didn't actually know which prayers to do, so I had to guide them through it.

I feel so pathetic. I'm coming to the conclusion that I'm basically an unpaid understudy, meaning that nobody even fucking wants me and they're just treating me like a backup when there's no better option. It wouldn't be a big deal if this were just something I was doing to volunteer on the side, but I have devoted so many hours to learning how to do this in the hopes of serving my community, not even asking for pay, and I just feel so incredibly unwanted.

I don't want to go to shul tomorrow, but I'm going to because I agreed to lein three aliyot (this is one of the things they let me do, but only because nobody else wants to!)

I shouldn't be on the computer on Shabbat, but I'm so upset and I can't sleep and honestly, I really don't care about Judaism right now. I know I SHOULD, but thinking about anything Jewish right now just makes me feel stupid and pathetic. It makes me feel so awful about myself to realize that even after a year of voice lessons and multiple years of Jewish study, I'm not even succeeding at donating my labor. I just feel like giving up. I'm not suicidal, but I feel like giving up on bettering myself and learning skills because I clearly just don't have what it takes. I couldn't even succeed at teaching Hebrew school, because being the one adult in a room of like 10 5th-graders with wildly different Hebrew levels just felt impossible and overwhelming to me. That also made me give up on my other goal, which was being a math teacher. If trying to teach Hebrew shut me down to that degree, I definitely shouldn't try to be a teacher. So I guess I just wasted years getting my math Master's.

I don't even know what matters to me anymore. I wanted to use my life to make a difference to other people and I used to believe I had potential to have something to offer, but I think this is really the last straw for me. I just don't want to try anymore.

[aishangotome]

Main Story S2 Chapter 2-03: Whenever I'm Lost (每當徬徨時) | Light and Night 光與夜之戀

S2 Chapter 2-01

♡———♡

Production Team Member: Alright then, I'll take the first edition patterns. It'll take about five days to get the sample garment to you, is that okay?

You: No problem, thank you for your help. I've noted all the important details on the pattern sheet.

The production team member gave me an OK sign and was about to leave, but then suddenly leaned towards my electric cooker on the desk and sniffed.

Production Team Member: Is that ginger I smell?

You: Yes, you have a keen nose!

Production Team Member: Are you sick? No wonder you look a bit pale.

Production Team Member: I swear, you guys in this group work too hard. I haven't seen the lights off in this office all month.

You: Oh, it's not me, it's a friend of mine who's sick.

You: But it's true that this initial phase has taken double the usual time.

You: We had to adjust the machine parameters for mass-producing the Huanhuo cloth.

You: And then select the right accessories, not too cheap, but not too expensive either, to keep costs under control.

You: All that back and forth has taken up a lot of your time, I'm really sorry. I'll treat you all to dinner when the sample garment is ready.

Production Team Member: It's no big deal, we get paid overtime for working extra hours.

Production Team Member: I'll get it done as soon as possible and try to have it ready for this month's sample review meeting.

You: Thank you so much!

After seeing my colleague off, I collapsed into my chair. Days of non-stop work had left me feeling exhausted, my body practically falling apart.

Ever since Sariel and I returned from Shangyi Village, I had been working with the factory to adapt the Huanhuo cloth weaving technique for machine production, hoping to get the first batch of fabric as quickly as possible.

Because the weaving method was so unique, the existing procedures weren't sufficient. We had to create entirely new operating procedures for the machines.

I had practically been living at the factory, collaborating with the workshop supervisor, pattern makers, and engineers. After countless experiments and discussions, we finally found a way to mass-produce the fabric.

With the fabric sorted, it was time for the part we excelled at: design.

I had been wanting to create modernized traditional clothing for a long time. During my university years abroad, I often felt the absence of traditional cultural elements in contemporary designs. The power to dictate fashion trends always remained in the hands of major players.

They told people what colors and fabrics were in vogue.

They even appropriated and exploited traditional cultural elements.

Although Hanfu had become increasingly popular among young people in recent years, with sales and variety reaching new heights, it was still considered a niche subculture.

The less common styles, controversial brand designs, inconsistent fabric quality, and strict rules surrounding Hanfu deterred many people.

My goal this time was to create modernized traditional clothing and bring it to a wider market.

After many twists and turns, I had finally completed the initial preparations today. I named this collection the "Time Travel" series.

And today, after handing over the patterns to the production team, I could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Relaxing in my chair, the faint scent of ginger in the air brought a sense of comfort.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn't need to look to know it was a reminder to visit the Lianshan Society today.

A week ago, Jesse and I had planned to watch his performance, but he hadn't shown up.

With the male lead absent, the director had to have the understudy step in.

Worried, I went to the theater entrance to wait. After a long while, a drenched Jesse finally appeared.

I bought a towel from a nearby convenience store and dried his hair while asking what had happened. He explained that he had been helping someone on the way and missed the performance.

The director had initially wanted to scold him, but after learning the reason, he let it slide, simply telling Jesse to go home and change.

He sneezed the whole way home, and I offered to make him ginger soup. I ended up overcooking it, but he held the bowl with a smile and declared it delicious.

Since that day, I had been making ginger soup every day and taking it to him.

You: Why hasn't his cold gotten better? If it doesn't improve soon, I'm dragging him to the hospital!

Just then, Mao Ge entered, carrying takeout.

Mao Ge: Huh? You didn't go to the cafeteria with Manman?

Li Manman returned from the break room with a glass of water.

Li Manman: She's going to see an old classmate today, remember?

Mao Ge: Oh, right, right, right. I envy you. You still have old classmates here. All my old classmates are married with kids back in my hometown.

Li Manman: True, I only have one classmate left here too.

Li Manman: The others have either gone back home or gotten married. It's impossible to get them to come out even if I try.

Mao Ge opened the takeout containers, and the office instantly filled with the aroma of food.

Hao Shuai: What did you order? It smells so good!

Mao Ge: The super deluxe curry three-in-one combo! It has fried shrimp, fried pork cutlet, and fried potato cakes.

He proudly showed us the takeout, his tone full of satisfaction.

Hao Shuai: That must have cost at least fifty or sixty yuan! Did you win the lottery? You're so extravagant! Let me have a taste!

Mao Ge: ...Half a potato cake. That's my final offer.

Li Manman: Little Jiang ordered it for him all the way from overseas.

Manman drawled, a teasing expression on her face.

Hao Shuai: You two are such a cute couple.

Mao Ge pouted, carefully arranging his precious takeout, a shy smile creeping onto his face.

Mao Ge: I told her not to, but she insisted, saying that always eating cheap food wasn't good for my health, so she ordered this for me.

Hao Shuai: Isn't a long-distance relationship supposed to be easier? How come you two are making it more complicated?

Mao Ge: What do you know? Give me back my potato cake!

Hao Shuai promptly shoved the rest of the potato cake into his mouth.

Mao Ge: Long-distance relationships require more effort than regular ones.

Manman nodded vigorously beside him, seeming to agree wholeheartedly.

Mao Ge: Like Jiang Lai and I, we have a six-hour time difference.

Mao Ge: I usually video call her around five or six in the morning, which is around ten at night for her.

Hao Shuai: Five a.m.? You must be dead tired! You couldn't pay me enough to do that.

Li Manman: No wonder you're single.

Mao Ge: I am tired, but at other times, we're either both working or one of us is sleeping. We can't talk much.

Mao Ge: If a couple in a long-distance relationship doesn't communicate often, they're not far from breaking up!

Li Manman: Exactly. There are many things you can only say face-to-face.

Li Manman: If you don't keep in touch, after a while, you just don't feel like talking anymore. You start to feel like it doesn't matter if the other person is there or not.

Mao Ge: Now I really understand what you meant when you said to meet in person whenever possible, and video call whenever you can't.

Mao Ge: Imagine if something happened to her, if she got sick or was feeling down...

Mao Ge: Or if she forgot her umbrella. Normally, I could just go to her right away.

Mao Ge: But she's overseas. Even if I flew over immediately, it would still take more than ten hours.

Mao Ge: You get it now? Ordering food for each other is our way of maintaining our connection.

Hao Shuai: Wow, you sound all profound and philosophical now, like Manman.

Mao Ge: Everyone's a philosopher when they're in love.

Mao Ge: I even learned a song from my idol to sing to Jiang Lai.

Li Manman: Aren't you tone-deaf? Love truly makes people brave.

Hao Shuai: More like blind.

Mao Ge: Alright, alright, I'll just turn up the backing track, then.

Mao Ge tapped on his phone screen, and music started playing. I was caught off guard and choked on the water I was drinking.

It was that song, "No Time Difference."

The boy's clear voice filled the small office, and I saw everyone's expressions soften. I rested my chin on the desk, closing my eyes and picturing a brilliant, dazzling light.

Mao Ge: Sounds good, right? My amazing idol! Talented and with no scandals. He's super popular these days.

Li Manman: Wasn't he always quite popular? Even I, someone who doesn't follow celebrities, knows about him.

Mao Ge: He used to be popular within musical theater circles, but now the whole country knows him.

Hao Shuai: Oh, I remember, I remember! I saw that video online! Didn't he save a little girl who fell into the water?

Mao Ge: Yep! And he missed his performance because of it. At the time, people accused him of being arrogant, and he got a lot of hate online.

Mao Ge: But then the video surfaced, and he was vindicated.

Mao Ge: Jesse is different from other celebrities. Anyone else would have used that incident to gain more exposure.

Mao Ge: But he's been out of sight for days. He's probably working on a new project.

Mao Ge was only half right about why Jesse had been out of sight.

He was indeed working on a new play, but he was also busy with Lianshan Society missions. His cold from falling into the water hadn't gotten better after five or six days due to his hectic schedule.

This made it increasingly difficult for us to meet.

Even something as simple as watching a movie together was hard to manage. One time, he was recognized by fans, another time he got called away on an urgent mission, and another time, we were both so exhausted that we fell asleep leaning against each other.

But seeing him improving every day truly made me happy for him.

My alarm rang again, and I quickly grabbed the insulated food container.

You: I'm heading out now. You guys carry on. Tell me all the gossip when I get back!

-

Arriving at the Lianshan Society, I asked the guard, as usual, to inform Jesse that I was here.

Having come here several days in a row, the guard was already familiar with me.

He understood and picked up the phone. But soon, he gave me a helpless smile.

Guard: I'm sorry, Inspector Xia isn't here.

I pulled out our text message with the agreed-upon time and sighed inwardly. He must have been assigned to another urgent mission.

Busybody Inspector Xia stood me up.

Oh well, considering how tired you are, I'll forgive you this time. I'll leave you a note.

I had just written the characters for "Tangyuan" on the paper when I suddenly realized something was amiss. The guard was watching me with a curious expression, and alarm bells went off in my head. I quickly scribbled over the words.

If his colleagues saw this nickname, Jesse would definitely find ways to pester me and demand compensation for emotional distress.

You: Could you please give him this insulated container then? Thank you.

Guard: I'm afraid our regulations don't allow us to pass any items inside.

I was at a loss. Should I wait for him?

Guard: Hold on a moment, please.

He made another call. After explaining the situation, his expression turned to one of surprise.

Guard: My superior said you can go inside and leave it on Inspector Xia's desk. He's already informed them.

You: I can go in? But the Lianshan Society doesn't allow outsiders to enter, does it?

The guard nodded firmly, confirming it repeatedly, then pointed me in the direction of Jesse's office.

It's so far... It would take more than ten minutes to get there by bike.

-

Jesse's office was located in the building furthest inside the complex. It took me a good twenty minutes to get there. To my surprise, his desk wasn't just filled with office supplies, but also with photos—all of them pictures of Jesse and me together, not a single solo shot.

There were also two calendars. One was a daily record of his work assignments, while the other was a Wan Zhen calendar with notes about our meetups.

I picked up a pen, circled today's date, and wrote, "Tangyuan stood up Y/N," adding a drawing of a round Tangyuan beside it.

When he got back from his mission and saw this, he would definitely jump out of his seat.

After finishing my doodle, I collapsed onto his office chair and spun around a few times. It was much more comfortable than my chair. I should ask him what brand it is when he gets back.

It was so quiet in the Lianshan Society that even waiting felt like an eternity. I looked at the photos, then tidied up his stationery, and suddenly noticed an old necklace. It must have been the one that broke and was recently repaired.

Just as I reached for it, I saw a middle-aged man approaching from the corner of my eye—it was the man who had come to see Sariel that day! His gaze fell on me at the same time.

Realizing I was sprawled in Jesse's office chair, I quickly sat up straight.

You: Hello, I, uh—

The man gave a warm smile.

???: Don't worry, I'm the one who allowed you to come in. You're Jesse's friend, right?

Knowing that he was the one who granted me access, I instantly relaxed.

Minister Jiang: I'm his superior, surnamed Jiang. You can call me Minister Jiang.

You: Hello, Minister Jiang. Thank you for allowing me to come in.

Minister Jiang nodded and continued with a smile.

Minister Jiang: There was an unexpected field assignment today. He was on the morning shift, so I sent him out. It seems he's been slightly delayed.

You: Oh, so he won't be back anytime soon. Is it alright for me to stay here?

Minister Jiang: No need to rush off. He should be back shortly.

Minister Jiang: If the Lianshan Society had secrets that could be easily discovered by anyone who walked in, we wouldn't bother with security measures.

Minister Jiang was much more welcoming than I had expected.

He glanced around and beckoned to someone passing by outside. The person looked up, and it was Yu Yang!

Minister Jiang: Yu Yang, take her for a walk in the garden, let her enjoy the scenery. When Jesse returns, bring her back here.

Yu Yang seemed a bit confused but still walked over as instructed.

Thankfully, it was someone I knew, so I politely nodded to Minister Jiang.

-

The corridors within the Lianshan Society building were a maze. With their uniform grey-green walls, dark brown wooden doors, and metal nameplates, I quickly became disoriented.

But Yu Yang was familiar with the place, skillfully navigating the twists and turns until we reached the garden. Standing at the entrance, he scratched his head in confusion.

Yu Yang: Actually, the garden isn't well-maintained, there's not much to see...

You: But it's probably not a good idea for me to stay in the office.

He didn't reply, and I let the subject drop. We awkwardly sat on a bench together in silence. I tried several times to break the ice, with comments like, "The weather's lovely," or "Jesse has been very busy lately." But before I could settle on the right words, Yu Yang suddenly chuckled.

You: What's so funny?

Yu Yang: Nothing, I just remembered this one time when Jesse and I encountered a stray dog here. No idea how it got in.

Yu Yang: We tried to chase it out, and we ended up finding a hole in the wall.

Yu Yang: After that, whenever we were feeling lazy and didn't want to walk all the way to the main entrance, we would sneak out through that hole.

Imagining Jesse's expression and actions, I couldn't help but laugh.

Yu Yang: Uh, please don't tell him I told you that. He'll never let me live it down.

You: My lips are sealed. But for those kinds of stories that he wouldn't tell me, can I ask you about them in the future?

Yu Yang: He'd probably kill me if he found out.

The laughter eased the awkwardness, and we strolled aimlessly through the garden, sharing amusing anecdotes about Jesse.

Just as we were in the middle of a particularly funny story, Yu Yang's phone rang. He answered and listened intently for a moment.

Yu Yang: You're saying the key to the archives is missing? How is that possible? I just returned it.

Yu Yang: Don't you have the passcode?

Yu Yang: The passcode isn't working either? Alright, I'll be right there.

He hung up with a troubled expression. I quickly spoke up.

You: You go ahead, don't let it hold you up. I'll wait here, Jesse should be back soon.

Yu Yang: Okay then. Call me if you need anything.

Yu Yang: Oh, and the security camera in that emergency exit corridor is broken, so don't go that way.

I nodded, and he left. I wandered through the garden on my own.

It was a large garden, but since it wasn't regularly maintained, it was overgrown with all sorts of wild plants, making it feel crowded and untamed.

But thanks to that, I encountered many interesting flowers and herbs.

As I bent down to examine a flower, I heard a strange noise coming from the distance.

I listened intently, trying to identify it.

The sound stopped for a moment, then resumed.

Following the sound, I found its source—it was coming from an ordinary-looking building deep within the garden.

I messaged Yu Yang, but the sound came again, and this time, it sounded like someone collapsing.

Anxiety propelled me forward a few steps, but I still hesitated to approach.

You: Is anyone there? What happened? Do you need help?

I glanced around, but there was no one in sight. Just as I was debating whether to call Yu Yang—

A familiar figure suddenly appeared at the edge of my vision.

Hidden amongst the overgrown weeds and trees, he cautiously slipped into a side path, casting wary glances around him.

You: What's he doing here?!

I immediately hurried towards him. At the same time, footsteps echoed from above.

I ducked into the shadows and looked up to see a figure leaning over the railing on the upper floor. The person was holding a walkie-talkie and seemed to be chasing after him—He was in danger!

-

The moment the man on the upper floor turned away, I dashed over, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him into a deserted side passage.

Yu Yang had mentioned that the security camera here was broken.

Almost simultaneously, a flurry of footsteps echoed from the corridor outside.

Before I could breathe a sigh of relief, a small knife was suddenly pressed against my neck.

My back slammed against the wall, and I was forced to tilt my head back, meeting a pair of wolf-like eyes in the dim light.

Osborn: It's you.

His pupils contracted sharply, and he lowered the knife. Just as I was about to urge him to stay silent, he reached out, his hand clamping around my neck.

Osborn: Too bad I'm not him. Disappointed, aren't you?

His strong grip on my throat made it almost impossible to breathe.

Staring into those red-tinged eyes, the suffocating feeling from the last time he choked me returned.

Unable to speak, I tried to convey with my eyes that I hadn't mistaken him for someone else, that I was just trying to help.

But the pressure on my throat didn't lessen, as if I were the one pursuing him.

My breathing grew more labored, and I could only manage a strangled gasp. Just as I was about to lose consciousness, a power surged within me, instinctively fighting back against Osborn.

He was only momentarily surprised before tightening his grip.

You: Let go... or you'll get hurt!

I forced the words out, my voice strained. This power within me emerged whenever my life was in danger, its full extent unknown.

But Osborn only tightened his hold, his eyes filled with scorn.

I was on the verge of tears. If this continued, Osborn would definitely get hurt!

Whether it was due to the overwhelming force opposing him or some other reason I didn't understand, his grip on my throat suddenly loosened. I gasped for air.

He stared at his hand, speechless, a complex expression on his face.

The sound of approaching footsteps grew louder. I quickly covered his mouth and shushed him.

He turned his head, as if trying to shake off my hand, but ultimately didn't resist. We had reached a temporary truce.

At this close proximity, I could feel his breath on my face as he stared intently at me. In that direct gaze, coldness and hostility seemed as urgent to express as affection.

After what felt like an eternity, the footsteps gradually faded away.

Osborn: What, reluctant to let go? Are you this forward with everyone you meet?

I glared at him, a flicker of anger rising within me.

You: I'm not stupid enough to risk my life for someone who doesn't matter to me.

You: I recognized you a long time ago.

Osborn looked at me with a complex expression, then, after a long pause, let out a cold laugh.

Osborn: You're still as good a liar as ever. Too bad I won't be fooled again.

Shadows cast across his face, but through those familiar features, I remembered the last look he gave me, a look filled with reluctance and despair. A bittersweet tenderness welled up in my heart.

You: How did you end up here?

Osborn: What's it to you?

He looked away impatiently, tucking something he had been holding into his breast pocket.

I couldn't make out what it was, only that it was a rectangular, flat box with the Lianshan Society's logo on the side.

Ignoring me once more, he peered through the crack in the door, observing the activity in the corridor.

Gazing at his face, both familiar and unfamiliar, I was at a loss for words.

In the days since we parted, I had constantly worried about him. Now, he was right here in front of me, yet the person I knew in my heart still felt distant and unreachable.

As if sensing my gaze, he turned his head, his cold eyes meeting mine. The words I wanted to say caught in my throat.

Osborn: Aren't you leaving? Want me to kidnap you again?

You: I know a way to sneak out of here without being noticed.

Osborn crossed his arms, looking at me with amusement.

Osborn: You want to know how he's doing, don't you?

I nodded honestly, then shook my head.

You: Yes, but that's not all.

I opened my mouth, a torrent of questions rising to my lips, but in the end, I returned to the beginning of this ordeal, to the day he disappeared.

You: What happened that day? Why did you both disappear after the gunshot?

He remained tight-lipped, refusing to answer.

Frustrated, I poured out all my worries and questions from the past few days.

As I spoke, the man's expression shifted from initial coldness and hostility to suspicion.

Osborn: Since you're so curious, I'll tell you. He's dead. I'm the one who survived.

You: !

A strange, chilling expression appeared on that familiar face, and for a fleeting moment, I almost believed him.

But then I remembered the text message, and the brooch I found hanging on the railing that morning, still warm to the touch.

The person in front of me, he was lying. But didn't his deception mean that he hadn't completely given up on me, that he still held onto a sliver of hope?

Osborn: Heartbroken? He begged me not to hurt you before he died.

You: You're lying. I saw the brooch downstairs that day. He repaired it.

Osborn: And what makes you think he repaired it and not me?

A cool breeze stirred outside, rustling the overgrown weeds. Mottled shadows danced across his face, and in that dim light, he stared intently at me, like a predator fixated on its prey, his eyes cold and determined.

I had never missed Osborn more than I did in this moment.

He's in this body, he's right there. I instinctively reached for his hand, feeling him try to pull away. But in the next instant, his hand gripped mine tightly, as if another force within him had taken over.

You: Because he wouldn't leave me without a word. He hates it when people leave without a word.

You: Do you really want him to die? I don't believe you. I see hesitation in your eyes.

You: Don't erase his existence. If you do, you'll cease to exist too. Please.

The wind outside intensified, and through the rustling and howling, I saw pain and struggle appear on Osborn's face.

His eye color began to flicker erratically, rapidly shifting between green and red. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he suddenly clutched his head, his tall frame curling up against the wall.

He trembled uncontrollably, enduring intense pain.

Finally, he calmed down, and the wind outside gradually subsided.

I saw a pair of familiar green eyes.

You: ...Osborn!!

I stared at him in disbelief, not blinking, until the clear green finally dispelled the last traces of red, and a gentle smile bloomed in his eyes, clearly reflecting my image.

I had so much to say to him, but I just looked at him silently. Osborn didn't speak either, simply smiling gently and soothingly stroking my back.

His breathing sounded exhausted. I couldn't bear to dwell on what he had been through these past few days, wanting only to hold onto the joy of reunion for a little while longer.

Osborn...

You: I knew you'd be okay.

Osborn: Who was about to cry just now?

He gently rubbed the red marks on my neck where he had choked me. I knew he felt guilty.

Osborn: Does it hurt?

I shook my head, then nodded vigorously.

You: I didn't mistake you for anyone else this time.

Osborn laughed heartily and gave me an approving nod—he was always like this, never allowing sadness or despair to take hold as long as he had a shred of strength left.

Osborn: I'm here because he was looking for this videotape.

Osborn: He believes that man isn't dead and wants to find him. And that man's last known location was the Lianshan Society.

He glanced down at the videotape in his hand, his fingers unconsciously tracing its edges.

Although he was talking about the other person's thoughts, Osborn's expression told me that he also wanted to find that man.

Staff Member: Did you find him?

A muffled voice from the corridor outside answered my question. Knowing that Osborn had to leave, I quickly told him about the hidden exit I knew.

Osborn: I'll come back to you after I deal with this.

You: The one inside you...

Osborn: Don't worry, I'll find a way to control him.

Osborn: You can call me back like you did this time. I can hear your voice.

Osborn: As long as you're here, I won't disappear.

A wave of sadness washed over me. I held back tears and nodded firmly.

You: Be careful. If you ever... I won't come to see you!

Osborn: You wouldn't dare.

He feigned a fierce expression, but his eyes remained gentle. Then, he suddenly pulled me into a tight embrace.

Osborn: Remember, this is the real me.

Osborn gave my head a final pat and, taking advantage of a lull in the voices outside, opened the door and slipped out, disappearing from sight without looking back.

I sat there for a while, gazing in the direction he had gone, until my emotions settled. Then, I casually walked out as if nothing had happened.

.

.

.

.

.

Season 2: Chapter 2-06

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[psalm22-6]

Source: The Jewish News of Northern California, 2 October 1992

I thought this was a very cool profile and an interesting perspective. I love the research she did on the gamins. 

Understudy says Jews will see themselves in Le Miz by Paul Freeman The theatrical epic Les Miserables tells the story of Jean Valjean, a noble, good-hearted man unjustly persecuted for a minor crime. To sate his extreme hunger, Valjean steals a loaf of bread only to find himself mistreated for the rest of his life. According to cast member Pauline Frommer, Jean Valjean's ordeal should strike a chord among Jews. 

“The persecution is not really about the loaf of bread," says Frommer, “but about who he is." 

Similarly, she says, "We, as Jews, are persecuted not out of anything we actually do, but because of who we are. That's the story of Jean Valjean, who is imploring Javert, 'Look at me as a human being! Don't look at me as a criminal!'"

[. . .] Frommer attributes the show's popularity to its spiritual quality. "It touches on what's best in human beings, revealing our aspirations towards creating new worlds," she says. "It brings out a longing in people to go out and create a revolution, to try to make things better. At the end of the show, it says that to love another person is to see the face of God. That's very powerful." 

Frommer understudies two roles — Eponine and Cosette. One requires a soprano voice, the other an alto. Fortunately, Frommer has a three-octave range. She also has to adjust to the differences between the personalities of the two characters. Cosette is gentle, while Eponine has rougher edges. 

Very often, Frommer doesn't know until only a few hours before the curtain that she will have to perform one of these featured roles. "That makes it exciting every time I go on," she says. "There's always an adrenaline rush. I can never get totally comfortable with a character. That's a big advantage, I think." 

When Frommer isn't called upon to play one of those roles, she focuses her energies on her work within the ensemble. "I play a boy for most of the show," she says. "To prepare, I watched the little boys in the cast, seeing what kind of tricks they liked to play on people. I also read [author Victor] Hugo's novel and learned about the contradictions of these little gamins. They're both playful and serious. They steal and eat from garbage cans, but they love the theater and want to know more about the culture of Paris." 

Growing up, Frommer had the unusual opportunity to experience a number of other cultures firsthand. Her father, after all, is the famed travel writer Arthur Frommer, who wrote the Europe on $5 a Day series of books. According to his daughter, Dad researched the hotels and restaurants, while his wife at the time, actress and acting instructor Hope Arthur, gathered information about museums. 

"I started traveling when I was 4-months-old," the 25-year-old Frommer says. "My parents would push me into drawers at night, because they didn't carry a crib. Every summer since then, until I was 14 and started going to camp, we would go to Europe to update the book.

"It gave me a great appreciation for how different, and yet, how alike we all are," she says. 

Arthur Frommer, who recently wrote a new book titled The New World of Travel and hosts a cable TV show of the same name, made Jewish historical sites an important part of the family's European visits. 

"In Spain we visited many synagogues," his daughter recounts. "We went to Israel when I was 11. My parents got off the plane and kissed the ground. I remember very clearly the Wailing Wall, which had a profound effect on me. It also meant a lot to me to realize that I was in a Jewish state, where I was in the majority, not the minority." 

In all her worldly travels, Frommer claims never to have encountered anti-Semitism, though on tour with Les Miserables she occasionally has felt that her Jewishness made her an outsider. 

"Usually, there are a lot of Jews in theater," she says. "In Les Miz, there's only one other Jewish member in the cast. In Kansas, my dresser told me I was the first Jewish person she had ever really known. But it wasn't a negative thing. She was curious about me. 

"Being from New York City, I grew up around many Jews. On Yom Kippur, the whole school got the day off. So it was strange for me to be seen as being so different. At the end of the week, the dresser gave me a pin that said, 'Oy vey.'"

Despite her Jewish upbringing, Frommer claims always to find herself cast in non-Jewish parts. "It's funny. In camp, I was in Fiddler on the Roof. I played the Russian sergeant. I'm always cast as the shiksa. They always cast the blonde in the non-Jewish roles," laughs Frommer, who plans to audition for movie roles when the tour hits Los Angeles. 

Nonetheless, Frommer remains hopeful. 

"Who knows," she says, "maybe someday I'll get the part I've always wanted, my dream role  — Anne Frank."

[sehunniepotwrites]

if we were a movie | j.jh

for @nctsworld’s first writing challenge

SYNOPSIS. For someone who was always the understudy and never the lead, scoring this role was huge for you. All you had to do was pretend to be in love with your best friend. No big deal, right? Wrong. It was the biggest deal because, for the past four years, you had been hiding your feelings for Jung Jaehyun.

If this were a movie, he would be your perfect match and the story would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack. Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

GENRE. childhood friends to lovers!au, college!au, drama school!au, slow burn, angst, humor, mutual pining, fluff (loosely based on the Filipino rom-com Must Be Love and If We Were a Movie by Hannah Montana) PAIRING. theatre major!Jaehyun x  theatre major!reader WORD COUNT. 14+ k

WARNINGS. point of view switches from first (”I”) to second (”you”); self-doubt, insecurities, mutual pining, cursing, lots of references and direct quotes from musicals such as Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella, Disney’s Newsies, Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, Shrek the Musical, and Wicked (edited but i might’ve missed some mistakes; bare with me!)

There are moments where time flows as normal, where people carry on with their days as they usually do. Then, there are moments people experience in slow-motion, where the world just stops spinning and all the background noise just fades away. These are the moments people look forward to. They’re the breathtaking ones, the ones that capture your heart and soul. After those moments, people are never the same. 

The first time I experienced something in slow motion was when I made my stage debut at a small talent show. There was thunderous applause after my performance and while my heart thumped against my chest, the world seemed to come to a stop. That’s when I knew my heart belonged to the stage or rather, the stage belonged to me. 

Some of these slo-mo moments are the ones where people fall in love. 

My father said that’s how he knew my mother was the one for him: he experienced it all at a slowed rate, everything fading into black and she was the only thing he saw. She was his brightest star and he was the one who reached for the sky to bring her down to Earth. 

When I was younger, I always dreamed about my “falling in love” slow-mo moment. I pictured a grandiose event with large actions and sweet words.  For it to actually happen at theatre camp during the initial dress rehearsal for Disney’s Beauty and the Beast J.R.— well, that was far from what I hoped for. 

And yet, it was just as special as I thought it would be. 

I was in my obnoxious fork costume, waiting for my best friend to leave the boy’s dressing room. 

Jung Jaehyun had been my best friend since the beginning, otherwise known as my first year at theatre camp. Only ten years old at the time, we both were cast as two of the three blind mice in Shrek the Musical and had been inseparable ever since. Although we attended different middle schools, our friendship grew from our shared vocal and dance lessons as well as our summers at camp. You know how it is; those who end up in the ensemble together stay together. 

Going over the dance moves in my head, I didn’t hear my friend’s voice calling my name. He gripped my shoulder, the action surprising me to the point where I lost my balance. I yelped and shut my eyes, expecting to fall onto the hard ground but a hand grabbing onto my wrist prevented my doom. With an arm around my waist, I barely missed the ground.

Slowly opening my eyes, I glanced up to see Jung Jaehyun looking down at me with a worried gaze. He was just a sixteen-year-old boy dressed as a spoon and yet, the world around us came to a halt. Gone were the other frantic theatre kids and the backstage messes. The couple playing Belle and the Beast was no longer sitting across from us, running through their lines. No hustle and bustle of the crew and the props masters.

It was just me dressed as a fork, falling down while my spoon for a best friend caught me in his arms. 

“We make quite a pair, don’t we, Forky?” he chuckled lowly, hitting the top of his costume to mine. It was a ridiculous sight— a pair of oversized cutlery in a crowded dressing room.

A burning hot sensation crept its way up to my face as he gently pulled me up. “I guess we do.”

Since then, my life has never been the same. I was in love with my best friend, Jung Jaehyun. I fell for him when the world stopped spinning beneath my feet while his world, unfortunately, kept on turning.

I remember each and every slowed-down moment in life —the good, the bad, and the absolute worst. I never thought a bad slo-mo moment existed, I simply didn’t think it was possible. 

I was young and naive then and I was so incredibly wrong.

The moment that hurt me most took place in my senior year of high school. The final callbacks for our community’s production of Disney’s Newsies were in order. The role of Jack Kelly, the headstrong and flirty newsboy, was easily given to the ever-so-charming Jung Jaehyun. He was not only my best friend at the time but he was the it-boy of our small theatre. People were either in love with him or wanted to be him— his talent matched his insane looks. His kind personality made him all the more lovable.

Jaehyun had his two fatal flaws, though. Everyone knew them but still saw him in such a bright light.

One: the boy was extremely clumsy. Jaehyun was often called “magic hands,” constantly ruining his props. It was a running gag in the theatre but the props committee never minded; one smile was all it took for them to forgive him and his cursed hands. 

That was his first flaw. And his second? Jaehyun fell in love way too easily and way too fast. 

How exactly did I find this out? Well, I was there to witness the scene that lifted his heart to the highest of levels while mine dropped straight to the ground.

I was in the running for the stubbornly intelligent female lead named Katherine Plumber. My opponent was the confident and radiant Son Wendy. She always played the lead in her high school productions but this was a community musical and I was determined to claim that part as my own. 

I went first, entering the audition room with a smile with the script gripped tightly in my palm. Performing alongside my best friend was easy. The romantic scene was a piece of cake, not because the lines were a breeze. That wasn’t it at all. It wasn’t because I memorized the Newsies script as a child either. It was because, at that moment, Jung Jaehyun was in love with me as much as I was in love with him. It was a moment I wanted to cherish forever: the way he looked at me was something I had never experienced before. It was so full of emotion and passion, like he had me within his grasp and never wanted to let me go.

“You got this. I believe in you,” he whispered in my ear, squeezing my hand in support. His breath tickled my skin and sent shivers down my spine. The nerves were back, not because of the audition, but because of him. 

“You’re just saying that because it’s the scene we’re about to act out, Jae,” I hissed. The sheet music for the duet, Something to Believe In, wrinkled in my free palm. 

His warm, comforting hand pressed harder against my own. “No, it’s not that. If you need someone to believe in you, I’m right here. I’ve got you, Forky. Always.”

The director cleared his throat from his seat, his scrutinizing eyes watching us closely as we got into position, just like we rehearsed a thousand times. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I watched as Jaehyun took a deep breath to get into character. He closed his eyes, rolled his broad shoulders back, and then his lids snapped open. His brown-eyed gaze aimed straight at me, with a vulnerable expression taking over his features. He was no longer Jung Jaehyun— he was Jack Kelly, a scared newsboy who was in love with a newspaper company heiress. 

The line came pouring out of his mouth with the utmost sincerity, the confusion and affection seeping through his words, “Just standing here tonight, looking at you, I’m scared tomorrow is gonna come and change everything.”

 Jaehyun took a step forward towards me, an unsure smile curling on his lips. “If there was a way I could just grab hold of something to make time stop just so I could keep looking at you.”

His body stops right in front of mine, keeping a clear distance but enough to feel the passion radiating off of his words and actions. For once in my young life, my best friend looked at me with a different kind of love in his eyes and I returned it, my genuine feelings seeping through my words. 

Biting my lip, I replied coyly, “You snuck up on me, Jack Kelly, I never even saw it coming.”

“For sure?” he stage-whispered. His upstage hand unexpectedly reached up to caress my cheek. The action was unrehearsed, almost catching me off guard. It was a different take on the scene. The characters were supposed to be shy, their thoughts wavering on their own feelings for each other and the impending strike that was to come the day after; yet, Jaehyun played Jack as someone certain of his feelings.

“For sure,” I answered back at the same volume, my hand cupping his own to follow along with his direction. It felt as if he was searching my soul for my thoughts and I could not let him in. The opening bars of the romantic duet echoed throughout the room and after taking a breath, I began to sing. Jaehyun joined in on the second verse and instantly, our voices blended together in a beautiful harmony, one that beat our Newsies karaoke sessions in his car. 

The scene ended as quickly as it began. The director hummed before jotting notes down and whispering to his casting assistants for a few seconds. I thought they were the longest seconds of my life. Jaehyun nodded his head to reassure me. “You did well, Forky.”

“Of course I did, it’s me we’re talking about here,” I nudged him back. “I can do no wrong, Jae!” 

“Thank you,” the director finally spoke, “you may go. Jaehyun, if you could escort her out and fetch Wendy for me?”

“Of course,” your friend nodded. The feeling of his large hand on my back slowly guided me out of the room. The spot he touched me burned but my cheeks were burning even more. Why was it that every little touch drove me to the brink of insanity?

“You’re so going to land this part,” I remember him saying as he squeezed my waist. My heart was beating erratically against my ribcage, the butterflies in my stomach threatening to fly their way up my throat.

“You think so?”

“Oh definitely,” Jaehyun stressed with a wink. 

He said it too soon. 

Because the minute he locked gazes with Son Wendy, I just knew he had found his leading lady. 

“S-Son Wendy?” he stuttered as he caught sight of the pretty girl in the waiting room. Her hair was styled similarly to a young maiden from the turn of the century, perfectly curled and out of her face. 

“Yes?” she smiled back.

It seemed like the words were caught in my best friend’s throat. Sneaking a glance at Jaehyun’s ears, they burned a bright red. “We’re, um, we’re ready for you.”

I watched as Jaehyun nervously offered his arm to her, his eyes never leaving her face. It was like he was her own personal spotlight, the way his eyes shone just for the girl in front of him. The boy was completely enamored and I was instantly in the shadows. The sweet smile that was reserved for me was directed towards another and it sparkled in a way it never did before.

The world around me moved incredibly slow as they passed me by. With everything frozen, all I saw was the gorgeous couple headed to the audition room with hushed exchanges. Jaehyun took his time heading to the private room to spend more time with the girl while Son Wendy steadily made her way into my friend’s fragile heart. My own heart clenched at the sight. It was breaking ever so slowly and I felt every little crack and tear. 

Even with the role of the understudy, it was as if I never even had a chance at winning his heart over. If Wendy wasn’t present for one rehearsal, Jaehyun didn’t even see me— his own best friend since our ensemble days. He was way too deep into his “showmance.” It was like I never even existed. It wasn’t long before he called Wendy his girlfriend and then, I was invisible. Cast aside. Ignored.

Needless to say, my heart broke in slow-motion as Jaehyun’s pounded rapidly for a girl that took two parts I desperately ached for: Katherine Plumber and the girl who held Jaehyun’s heart. 

But this was just the first time his heart was stolen by his opposite. The first of many.

The first two years of university passed me by like a summer breeze. Constantly busy with general education and introductory drama courses, I was constantly flitting around from building to building. My hands were usually occupied by my laptop, a blazing cup of caffeinated tea, and a worn out script while my mind was filled with jumbled up lines and the dramatic cries of an overwhelmed university student. I probably wouldn’t have made it this far if it wasn’t for Jaehyun and Xiao Dejun, another theatre major we had met during orientation, by my side.

Fast forward to my third year and the three of us were headed to the office of the theatre department. It was posting day for the spring musical— the day the cast list was revealed. This year’s musical spectacular was Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella. The play itself was a modern classic and it was also my dream come true.

This day, just like any posting day of the drama department, was nerve-racking. Everyone was anxious to find out what parts they were given and how the fairytale would play out. The part of the brave and kind Ella was always on my list of roles I wanted to fill. As much as I thought I did well on my final callback, I didn’t want to set my hopes too high.

“Are you nervous?” Jaehyun asked while draping an arm over my shoulder. He playfully put all his weight onto his right side to throw me off balance. 

“Nervous? Me? Why would I be nervous if I’m like 95% sure  I’m going to get the understudy again?” I chuckled sarcastically. Bitterly. It happened every year, so why get my hopes up now?

“Yeah but—”

“No buts, I’ve accepted the title of the Wonderstudy! I think you should too, Jae,” I slapped his shoulder before quickly slipping out of his hold before linking arms with Dejun. My best friend let out a yelp, almost tripping over his own two feet as we continued down the hallway. “I’m mediocre at best.”

The Wonderstudy: it was the nickname the other students in the department gave me because I was always the understudy. I was never the star of the show. It said that I was good but not good enough. 

Dejun leaned in and whispered, “You do know that you’re more than just that, right? You’re an actor. A phenomenal one. You weren’t accepted to this drama program by just being mediocre at best.”

I ignored my friend’s comment, eyes zoned in at the other end of the building. The crowd of usual theatre students crowded around the bulletin board, curious heads popping up and down trying to take a peek at the list. Some buzzed with excitement, happy they got a major part while others groaned in disappointment. You were most likely going to be with the later group. 

Once the cluster of students caught sight of Jaehyun, they parted like the red sea to let him through. It wasn’t really necessary, though, everyone knew the it-boy of the drama department was cast as the role of the misguided prince, Topher. 

The only question was: who was cast as his princess? Who was this year’s Ella?

I fought my way through the bunch with Dejun following behind me as our best friend was showered with congratulations. Jaehyun was all smiles, dimples prominent as he was lavished by the mass. Dejun made it to the list first. His finger dragged along the thin paper until he found his name. He cheered, pumping his fist up in joy. “I got the part I wanted! I’m Jean-Michel!”

Grinning at my friend, I sincerely congratulated him. He got the second lead: the feisty peasant looking for change. Turning again, his eyes grazed the list until Dejun found my name. His smile dropped ever so slightly and that was when I knew: I was beaten once again. 

“What part did I get?”

“Gabrielle,” he answered. Ah, the outwardly abrasive but quietly empathetic sister. The second lead, love interest of Jean-Michel. At least I was playing Dejun’s opposite. 

I took a step closer, wondering who took the part of the kind princess. Squinting at the small print, my eyes scanned the jumble of words until I saw it.

Ella……………………….Lee Naeun Ella u/s………………….Y/N

I scoffed. Forever the understudy. The Wonderstudy of the Theatre Department indeed.

The first rehearsal, otherwise known as the read-through, took a toll on me. It was usually a two to three hour long session, filled with loud chatter, crazy introductions, and a variety of crazy theatre games to break the ice. When the niceties ended, everyone took their seats in their plastic chairs that were arranged in a huge circle. Bae Joohyun, the head stage manager began reading the stage directions aloud as the table read began. The production’s director, Professor O’Hare, sat alongside Joohyun, jotting down notes and giving out commentary when needed. 

Amongst the reading of lines were tiny whispers, the sound of highlighters and pencils marking the paper, and the simultaneous turning of pages. The music director, Professor Lau sat at the piano bench and sight-read the music to give the cast a taste of the songs. Being the first rehearsal, the few who knew of the songs sang along to the accompaniment with joyous smiles, myself and Dejun included.

When Professor Lau played the first romantic duet between the leads, all heads turned to Jaehyun and Naeun who sat side-by-side. With it being their first time together, the performance was far from perfect but it was still something. His lower tone blended nicely with her softer voice and the shy glances they exchanged made their duet quite a sight. 

As Jaehyun and Naeun read the last lines for Act One, I noticed the way Jaehyun’s gaze kept flittering back to Naeun’s pretty face. The girl was focused on her lines, head down and hair blocking her gorgeous features, but he still kept looking at her and only her. I could imagine how the scene was playing out in his head, the world slowing down until Naeun was the only one moving.  He was infatuated. Twitterpated. 

And it hurt. It hurt more than reading the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet or listening to Elphaba’s desperate cry she lets out when she loses Fiyero. Call me dramatic but that was how I felt. 

It wasn’t like I tried getting over him. It wasn’t like I tried dating other people before; I had many, many times but my mind always drifted back to my best friend. He was the boy with the richest brown eyes, the perfectly dimpled smile, and the lowest laugh that set my heart aflame. Without even knowing it, Jaehyun had this incredible hold on my broken heart and he would not let me out of his grip. 

The green-eyed monster inside me resurfaced and I hated it. I absolutely hated it— why was I so pathetically in love with my best friend? 

 “Here we go again,” I said before dropping my head onto the table. 

“You say that every time and you keep running back to him at the end of the day,” Dejun whispered before looking back down at his script. His hand continued to jet across the page, his highlighter marking his many lines. 

Rolling up the script in my hand, I whacked his side. The action caused his hand to jerk the bright marker in another direction, striking a distorted line on his page. “Look what you did, twerp!” he hissed.

“Your fault, Eyebrows!”

“Stop calling me that, you fork!”

“Hey, only I can call her fork!” Jaehyun appeared out of nowhere, plopping alongside me. His voice snapped us out of our little argument, making us realize that the director called for a fifteen. 

“That’s only because you’re a dumb spoon,” I stuck my tongue out at him. Jaehyun pretended to reach for it and I blew a raspberry at him to retaliate. 

“You two idiots are my favorite cutlery set,” Dejun shook his head with a laugh. He was probably wondering why he stuck around us the majority of the time. 

“Let off it, Dejun,” Jaehyun said with the roll of his brown orbs. 

“Only if you let me be the knife to your set.”

“As if, dumbass,” I countered with a laugh. 

“Okay but you guys, can we stop fighting for a sec and talk about how I got her number?” Jaehyun beamed, throwing his arms over both our shoulders. He pulled us closer to his body and the faint smell of his musky cologne hit my nose. I held back a sigh as it filled my senses. Oh, to be drowned in his scent. 

“I got Naeun’s number!” he repeated excitedly, his strong arms shaking us. I held back my abrupt want to push him off. I wasn’t in a celebrating mood. My heart was too broken to care.

“Of course you did, when do you not get a girl’s number?” I answered a bit too bitterly. Raising a brow at him, I added, “Are we supposed to be surprised?”

“Listen,” Jaehyun countered, pulling back from me. “I don’t like that attitude, Forky.”

I scoffed, “Never stopped you from being my friend before, Jae.”

Jaehyun didn’t answer; he was too busy clutching his phone. His pretty brown eyes were fixed on Naeun’s contact page like it was the world’s greatest treasure. His eyes were sparkling in admiration before his gaze turned to the girl across the room. The look my best friend wore on his face was soft, the smile on his lips light. “I think she could be the one.”

Some thought him to be a player but I never thought of him that way. He might have had the looks of a heartbreaker but he had the purest heart of gold. The boy with the dimpled smile, porcelain skin, and cheeks as red as roses was a hopeless romantic to his very core. He was simply looking for his other half. 

“I think she could be the one.” His words repeated in my head, his voice pestering me. My heart lurched at them despite hearing them each semester. 

Jaehyun said this every year, with every girl. He said this when he crushed on Son Wendy, Kim Chungha, and so many more. His infatuations and crushes ended just as easily as they started. The boy was more than disappointed when the initial spark with each girl ended after a show’s run ended. When the musical closed, so did his feelings for each opposite. 

I never got stage fright; I was usually the one who said what was on her mind without a moment’s hesitation. So why was I hesitating to tell him my feelings?

Why was I hesitating to say that the one Jaehyun could be looking for was standing right next to him?

Just another rehearsal at the auditorium. 

Just another day watching my best friend fall for his leading lady.

Jaehyun and Naeun were standing in the middle of the stage, the ensemble surrounding them. He stood behind her, his hands gently placed on her waist while she leaned back into his touch. Naeun was wearing a fluffy tulle skirt, a mock-up of her ballgown. Park Sooyoung, the resident fashion major and lead costume designer, pushed her to wear it so she could get used to the estimated size of her dress. Even in a mere tank top and tulle skirt, Lee Naeun looked like a princess.

Professor Kwon, the choreographer of the production, stood at the end with a watchful eye. She counted them off, walking them through the routine while the rest of us practiced our steps off to the sidelines. 

Once the two main characters got the hang of their steps, Professor Kwon motioned for Professor Lau to play the songs from the beginning. As much as I tried to focus on my own dance moves, my mind kept wandering back to Jaehyun. 

Imagining him under the spotlight in a perfectly tailored suit, a crown sitting on his head, extending his arm out not to Naeun but to me. It was one of those movie moments where the characters and the audience watching fell in love. 

If life was like a movie, things would be so much easier. 

So lost in my thoughts, I missed a count and stepped on my partner’s foot. Muttering a quiet sorry to him, we continued on with the routine. As my partner swirled me around the dance floor, I drifted back into my daydream.

My utterly impossible daydream where I was the girl Jung Jaehyun was infatuated with. Although this play talked about impossible things happening everyday, I couldn’t imagine this ever happening. 

The terrible thing about being a theatre major in university was being a theatre major with midterms. Not only did I have to deal with hours of my back hunched over a desk and scattered study materials, I had to spend half of my days in the school’s theatre rehearsing. 

If I was not in class scribbling down last minute notes in notebooks,  I was learning dance routines or running lines on and off stage alongside Dejun. The days were long and the nights were even longer. Sometimes, the cast fell asleep in the seats of the auditorium while rehearsals were going on. We were all losing sleep. Some of us were losing our sanity but hey, welcome to the theatre. 

My schedule was filled to the brim and I wasn’t even the main character of the show. On top of that, I had to memorize the part of Ella. Not that it was really needed in the first place. 

No one ever stepped down from a lead role while I was their backup. It just didn’t happen.

Despite the hectic lives of belonging to the theatre department, the musical was two months into production and everything was running smoothly. With a month and a left until opening night, everyone was off-book and the initial stage blocking was done. The costuming and makeup committee were finishing up their mock-up designs and the student orchestra sounded divine. 

I saw more of Dejun than Jaehyun lately, my best friend being preoccupied with his new love interest before, during, and after rehearsals. I was cast aside once again.

Was it something out of the ordinary? No.

Did it still hurt? Yes.

Did I do anything about it? Absolutely not. I didn’t want to ruin his happiness. I rather suffer than see him as nothing but joyous, even if the happiness was temporary. The grin he wore when he was in love was too beautiful to rip away. Jaehyun shined like the light from the sun. I could never bring myself to do it. 

It was week eight of rehearsals when I stepped out of my last midterm, my head absolutely empty after reading small text for over an hour. Reaching into my backpack’s front pocket, I pulled out my cell phone and quickly turned it on. My screen was flooded with missed calls and texts from Professor O’Hare, Joohyun, Jaehyun, and Dejun, the notification numbers reaching over a hundred total. 

Something must have happened. Talk about a theatre emergency. Knowing our kind, they were probably being overdramatic. 

Just as I was about to unlock my phone, a video call went through. It was Dejun. Rolling my eyes, I slid my finger across the screen to answer it. “Jeez, I know you love me but give a girl a break, Eyebrows!”

“God, you’re so conceited sometimes. Why didn’t you answer my calls?!” He shouted, face close to the phone. I winced at the volume, immediately lowering the level as I slipped on my wireless earbuds. “There are important matters to discuss here!”

“What happened this time? Did someone say Macbeth in the theatre again? You know I don’t believe in that shit,” I said sarcastically.

“Oh my god. This is not the time for jokes! Everyone’s been trying to reach you!” Xiaojun yelled once more. “Where are you?!”

“I just got out of my musical history midterm in Maple Hall. Heading to the theatre right now. Why?” I never received an answer; Dejun hung up the call. Giving my phone a weird look, I shoved it in my pocket before continuing on my way. A light push on my back prevented me from going too far. 

“Twerp!” Xiao Dejun’s voice came from behind me, yanking me by the straps of my backpack. He was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. “Oh my god, we’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he said in between heavy breaths. 

Crossing my arms, I cocked a brow at him. “Why’s that?”

Dejun placed a hand on my shoulder for support. The words came flying out of his mouth, I almost couldn’t catch what he was saying. So much for being a theatre major. 

“Speak clearly, Dejun. Enunciate, articulate, exaggerate, remember? We are thespians and thespians do not mumble!”

The exhausted boy ignored my theatricals. “Naeun didn’t land a switch leap right and she rolled her ankle during advanced ballet. She’s going to be out for at least three to four weeks,” my friend replied breathily, his words a lot clearer than before.

The news shocked me to the core, my feet suddenly planted to the ground. It sounded like he said Naeun was out of commission. “What?” 

“She’s out for three to four weeks! I mean sucks for her, I wish her a speedy recovery but do you know what this means?”

The lack of response from me urged him to continue, “Sweetheart, she’s out. You’re in!”

Oh shit. I was in.

The part I had always dreamed of was mine. The lead role was finally mine.

I was now Ella and Jung Jaehyun was my Prince Topher.

Having an understudy step up to their role halfway through production was always something to get used to. It was a setback, a minor one, but still a setback. Just as Jaehyun finally settled into his role and built an unshakeable bond with Lee Naeun as his opposite, the accident happened. His potential girlfriend was now out of the show and off her feet in order to push for a speedy recovery.

The lovesick boy couldn’t even be there for her because his rehearsal times increased in order to get his best friend adjusted to your new role. There he was, leaning against the piano while waiting for you to arrive.

Professor Lau sat at the bench, flipping through his sheet music until he found the song he was looking for. 

The door slammed open and you stumbled in. “Am I late? I’m sorry, I just heard the news.”

“No, not at all. You’re right on time,” the professor smiled at you. “The situation’s weird, I know but congratulations on getting Ella.”

“Thanks, Professor. That means a lot,” you grinned back. 

Dropping your bag by the piano, you swiftly pulled out the script. You glanced at Jaehyun’s opened book for the page number before hastily flipping through the pages. Jaehyun nudged your side. “Hey, Forky.”

“Hey yourself,” you elbowed him back, biting your bottom lip.

“Congrats, bubs. You did it,” he pulled you into a side hug before ruffling your hair with pride. You had finally gotten a part you wanted. It was your time to shine. As your best friend for many years, Jaehyun had been waiting for the day you could show the crowds your full potential.  

“Did I really do it or did your girlfriend just get injured? How is she, by the way?” 

As much as you tried to play the overdramatic, conceited girl, you never believed in yourself but Jaehyun always did. You deserve the spotlight; your talent was out of this world and the masses were finally granted a chance to see you for what you were— a star.

“You did this. You were made for this part as much as she was,” Jaehyun reassured his best friend with a smile. He tapped your nose. “And she’s not my girlfriend but she’s doing alright. Just in a little bit of pain. I’m going to see her after we finish.”

“Give her some well wishes for me,” you answered. Jaehyun didn’t notice your smile dropping into a small frown.

“You ready to act like you’re in love with me?”

“I was born ready, you doof.” There was something weird in your voice when those words left your lips but Jaehyun didn’t have time to process it.

Professor Lau guided the students through a series of warm-ups before asking, “Shall we start with Do I Love You Because You’re Beautiful today? We’ll do a couple of run-throughs before Jaehyun teaches you the blocking.” His fingers played the beginning notes of the song, the light melody drifting to their ears. 

Already off book at this point, Jaehyun closed his eyes and began to sing.

Do I love you because you’re beautiful? Or are you beautiful because I love you?

Am I making believe I see in you A girl too lovely to be really true?

Do I want you because you’re wonderful? Or are you wonderful because I want you?

Are you the sweet invention of a lover’s dream? Or are you really as wonderful as you seem?

When his eyes fluttered open, Jaehyun found himself facing you with a script in hand. Your face wore the softest look as you stared back at him. His breath almost caught in his throat at the gentle smile you wore. You played the part differently from Naeun and it was a refreshing sight to behold. You were playing a confused peasant but your eyes still sparkled with the gleam of a thousand suns. 

There was a flush of heat that started from his cheeks and extended to his reddening ears. His heart was doing its best to break out of his ribcage and the star of the show wasn’t sure if his chest could keep it in for very much longer.

When singing with him, Naeun was a pretty princess.

But when he sang with you, the girl in front of him? Jaehyun thought you were absolutely breathtaking.

Two hours later, we were finally free of rehearsals. My first rehearsal as Ella. My throat was a bit parched from all the singing and projecting I was doing but I felt lighter than air. Singing with Jaehyun made me feel lighter than air. I was weightless, nothing could hold me down.

“Forky, you’re really good,” he said to me as we walked to our cars. I tried to fight the sudden heat making its way to my face. Lately, compliments from him were hard to come by.

 It was already late when O’Hare and Lau finally let us out, the moon sitting high in the sky. The night breeze crept its way into my thin jacket, causing me to hug myself to retain some warmth. Noticing my struggle with the cold, Jaehyun quickly draped his jacket over my shoulders. I was immediately hit with his familiar scent, it was almost overwhelming. I should be used to this, his action of sharing his clothes with me was nothing new but I was weak. It affected me every single time. I guess I was that head over heels for him. 

Head over glass heels, one could even say.

“You’ve seen me in action before and I mean, I was chosen to be the understudy for a reason,” I gave him a shrug. 

“Yeah but I’ve never seen you act and sing like that. Just...wow.” Stealing a glance at him, Jaehyun almost looked enamored with me. He was giving me a look that was usually reserved for someone else. I felt my heartbeat pick up in my chest and flutters in my stomach.

“Stop that,” I blushed, pinching his skin through the thin material of his long-sleeved shirt. A satisfying buzz ran through my body. Was he really looking at me like that? I was probably reading too much into it.

“No, but it seemed so real. Like you weren’t pretending.”

“That’s because I wasn’t,” I whispered under my breath as we arrived at our cars. 

“Hmm, you say something?” Jaehyun asked, leaning closer to hear me. 

Shaking my feelings away, I ignored the dull ache in my chest and acted through the tears I was desperately holding in. I wrinkled my nose at him playfully, secretly pushing the pain down my throat. “You really don’t listen to a word I say, do you, Jae? I said, I’ll see you later.”

“See ya, Forky! Get home safely!”

Scoffing to myself, I realized how much of a great actor I was. I deserved an Oscar or a Tony for the scenes I played out, the ones where I pretended to be okay when I was far from it. 

What award do you ask? Best Actress in a Supporting Role— the best friend to Jung Jaehyun but never the love of his life.

Wardrobe fittings for productions were always an exciting day for the whole cast and crew. It was one step closer to putting on a show. Jaehyun was already dressed in one of his many costumes, a white suit with golden trimmings. It fit him for the most part, only tiny adjustments were needed. Members of the wardrobe department quickly pinned his neatly pressed jacket before taking it off his hands. Since he was the main character, Jaehyun was one of the first ones done. He was simply waiting for you to come out in your first dress— the white gown for the ball scene in Act One.

When you finally did all those minutes ago, Jaehyun swore his heart stopped. 

Ten minutes ago, Jaehyun saw his best friend walk through the curtains. Your face was bare, hair still in that lazy style you always sported but your clothes. The comfy clothing you usually rehearsed in was gone and replaced by a beautiful ball gown. Despite the pins that scattered throughout the material to fit your form, it still appeared majestic. There you were, standing before him and the rest of the cast, and you were the loveliest you had ever been.

Ten minutes ago, you walked in and his head was reeling. Time slowed down as you tentatively made your way towards him. You did not meet his eyes but Jaehyun was dying to catch your gaze. He never wanted to let you out of his sight. The picture of his best friend in white was something he wanted to treasure and suddenly, the slowness around him stopped. The cast’s cheers and squeals disappeared. There was only you in that beautiful ball gown. 

Was this the slow-motion moment you always talked about? The one you always dreamed about experiencing? Jaehyun could see why people thought it to be magic. It was almost like a movie, movie magic if you will. 

Another look at you and then Jaehyun was in the future, watching you make her way down the aisle. A thin veil covered your face and he was so tempted to push it away from concealing your dazzling smile. His heart was fighting its way out of his chest, wanting to head down the path straight to you. How he wanted to reach out and touch you, cradle you in his arms. 

You were truly an angel in white. A princess. A queen.

The mere sight of you took him to the skies, the one place he was sure you were from. Although Jaehyun would never admit it, he always thought you to be beautiful. Throughout the many years of being best friends, he would find his gaze subconsciously drifting to you. He would rip it away before you would ever notice him doing so, knowing you would tease the hell out of him for it— it was his own little secret tucked away into the corners of his beating heart. 

“How do I look?” Your question snapped him out of his daydream and back to reality. Back down to earth. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” 

“Oh my god, you stupid spoon! I said, how do I look?”

“Lovely,” he answered sincerely, his brown eyes digging into your own. “You look absolutely lovely.”

Ten minutes ago, you simply murmured a question while Jung Jaehyun came to a realization. The realization that he might’ve fallen for you: his Forky, his best friend.

The loveliest girl he had ever seen.

With Cinderella’s opening night being only a few weeks out, you and Jaehyun decided to fit in extra time together to run lines and songs outside of scheduled rehearsals. That was the plan for every weekend and that particular Saturday was no exception to this plan. When his doorbell rang frantically, Jaehyun groaned loudly before getting up to answer the door. Did you always have to be so obnoxious?

Just as the door swung open, your loud voice boomed into his apartment, “‘Sup, ho! Ready to rehearse the hell out of this show or what?”

He stepped aside to let you in and you immediately made yourself comfortable in his humble abode. Jaehyun almost laughed as he watched you. There was a particular routine you stuck to when visiting his place. First, you would take off your shoes, slip on your personal pair of slippers you left at his house, drop your bag on the kitchen counter, and then open his fridge to raid his food supply.

Precisely as Jaehyun predicted, you waddled to the fridge in your memory-foam duck slippers and stole one of his yakults. He loved how comfortable you were in his home. It was truly a heart-warming sight.  The act itself was extremely domestic and he quite liked the domesticity when it was with you. That flash of you in a wedding gown came back to him and he blushed at the thought. The idea of spending a future together was flooding his brain recently and he didn’t know what to do. 

You weren’t the one he liked. Naeun was but why were you the only person on his mind? Was it wrong to have you in his mind? Naeun wasn’t his girlfriend— they were still getting to know each other. His time with her decreased over time since you had stepped into the role of Ella. He was very fond of you. He always had been. There was this little piece of his heart that was reserved for you but was it because you were his best friend or was it more?

Jaehyun quickly snapped himself out of it. 

“First of all, I’m not a ho,” he said before grabbing a yakult of his own. He poked the straw through the foil a bit too harshly, the liquid splashing over the top. Damn his strength— now half of his drink was gone. “Second, stop slut-shaming me for my dating choices. It’s 2021. If I wanted to be a ho, I could be a ho.”

You rolled your eyes as you took a sip of your drink. “God, I hate you sometimes.”

“You need to stop lying to yourself, I know you’re hopelessly in love with me,” Jaehyun said, pointing his drink towards you. He caught you rolling your eyes at his answer.

“Oh, you’re absolutely right. I am irrevocably in love with you, Jung Jaehyun,” you said sarcastically, dramatically batting your eyelashes his way. Your confession, despite being a sarcastic statement, left his heart racing against time. 

“Alexa, play Hopelessly Devoted to You!” you yelled ironically. 

“Now playing Hopelessly Devoted to You by Olivia Newton-John,” an electronic voice boomed across his living room before the opening notes of the ballad began to play. 

“Shit! I forgot you actually had an Echo,” you jumped, not expecting that at all. Jaehyun chuckled at your reaction, loving how easily you scare. He always thought it was one of your cuter traits. 

“Alexa, stop!” he called. 

Jaehyun ran a hand through his hair. He dragged his feet to his bedroom, knowing you would follow without a word. “I can’t rehearse today, I have to write this damned analysis paper for a class. It’s due in two days.”

“I’m sorry, is that paper more important than your best friend in the entire world?” you pushed from behind him.

“Yes,” he deadpanned, taking a seat at his desk. Jaehyun’s study area was an absolute mess. His notebooks were scattered around the floor, textbooks opened to random pages, and his laptop opened to a google document.  

“That’s a motherfucking lie and you know it.”

“I really can’t rehearse now, Forky,” he sighed.

He glared at you as you theatrically fell onto his bed. The notes spread out on his bed flying to the floor. “Oh, woe is me! Jung Jaehyun cannot give me the time of day to rehearse. What am I to do?”

“Why are you like this?” 

“I’m a theatre student, I’m wired to be this obnoxious,” you said with a straight face. 

He stared at you through narrowed eyes. “I really hate you right now.”

“I know,” you countered with a flat tone. “But in all seriousness, Jaehyun. I won’t take too much of your time. I just wanted to practice our duets a couple of times and then I’ll be out of your hair. Plus, you look like you need a break.”

One look at you and he was a goner. How could he ever say no to his best friend?

“Ugh, fine.”

“Ha, I knew you would cave.”

“Shut up.”

The next hour with you was spent rehearsing the numbers. During the last run-through, Jaehyun suggested going over the blocking and putting their all in it. To act like it was opening night. You swiftly agreed and he played the music from the top.

Jaehyun led you around his room, spinning you across the floor as you sang. The smile on your face was so lovely, he could not take his eyes off your lips. His eyes fluttered to a close and he imagined you in your full costume, downed in your gown, as dainty as a daisy and as graceful as a bird. The thought of you dressed like a princess drove him crazy.

He never thought of Naeun this way. This was different. You were different but why?

Jaehyun opened his eyes to see you smiling so gracefully at him as the song was coming to an end. Just as planned in the show, your gaze flitted to his lips. You leaned closer and he followed, dipping his head to meet you halfway. His heart was skipping to its own beat as he inched down. Your soft lips brushed against his oh-so-gently as he held you in his arms but before the boy could press back, the door to his room swung open.

You broke away from him, shocked at the sudden arrival to see your other friend and Jaehyun’s roommate, Dejun. “Oops, was I interrupting something?” 

“I, uh, I gotta go.” Before you could even stop him, Jaehyun grabbed his wallet and phone off his desk and ran out his room. 

Confusion clouded his senses. Why did he feel empty after you pulled away? Why did he want to kiss you so badly? It was just a stage kiss.

Was it not?

Jaehyun’s door slammed shut behind him, leaving me and Dejun in his room. It wasn’t long before we heard the front door close, too. “Well, that was something,” Dejun said after his roommate shuffled out of the apartment.

“Shut up, Xiao Dejun,” I replied, smacking his arm. 

My friend lifted his arms up in defense before he gave me a pointed stare. “I’m just saying, the two of you looked really into it. It looked great, to be honest with you. No notes to give here— I’m sure O’Hare and Lau would say the same.”

“It’s just acting,” I tried to shrug it off. 

“Stop lying to yourself.”

“I’m not!”

“Bulltshit. I saw the way he looked at you— that’s not acting, twerp,” Dejun declared, his voice dropping. His voice never dipped in tone unless he was serious and in that moment, he was dead serious. My friend sounded like a frustrated tutor deliberately explaining a concept for the fifth time and I was the stubborn student who just didn’t understand.

“Yes, yes it is!”

“No, it’s not because that’s how he always looked at you!” 

“Lies!” I yelled accusingly, “We got Liza Minnelli over here!” 

“God, you’re so annoying sometimes! Why won’t you confess? Cat got your tongue? Nothing’s really stopped your sharp tongue before,” Dejun groaned at my stubbornness. He slapped a hand onto my shoulder. I tried to shrug him off but his grip was too strong. Maybe it was him trying to help me get a grip. Who knew? I honestly didn’t. 

“It’s not like I haven’t tried, you know?” An exasperated answer left my lips. I was tired. So ridiculously tired of dealing with these feelings for my best friend. It had been four years since I fell for him. Four years of trying to see other people, four years of trying to confess, and four long years of failing every time.  “I just freeze up like a deer in headlights or like you did when you performed that one monologue sophomore year in voice and movement class. Remember that, Jun?”

I felt his sharp glare burning a hole in my back. “You promised to never talk about that moment, you traitor,” he hissed, his hand squeezing the hell out of my shoulder. 

“Okay yeah but you get the point, right?” My nails dug into his skin, leaving little indents onto his hand. He yelped, finally jerking his hand back to examine it. Shaking my head, I added, “Plus, he’s my best friend. I just can’t do it!”

“So, what you’re saying is that you choose friendship over the possibility of him loving you?” 

“It’s just...I don’t know—” I started, shifting my body to face him, “—choosing friendship means that I’ll only lose love. But if I chose to confess and put my feelings out there, I could lose him as a potential lover and my best friend. I’m not prepared for that. I don’t think I ever will be.”

And there it was again. The self-doubt hit me, imposter syndrome resurfacing at an all time high, bringing me to the lowest of lows. 

The feeling of being a fraud, of being not good enough. 

For Jaehyun. For any love interest for that matter. For the role of Ella. For taking my place under the spotlight. 

“Dejun?”

“Hmm?”

“Am I—am I good enough?”

“For?”

“I—I don’t know—” I stuttered as my mind was consumed by my own crippling thoughts. I tried to stay strong but the crack in my voice gave me away, “—for anything? Everything?” 

“Oh, twerp,” Dejun said in that particular voice and then that was when the floodgates opened. The tears just came pouring down with no sign of stopping. My friend gently pulled me into his comforting arms. They were snug and I felt safe but not as safe as I did in Jaehyun’s hold.

“You, my darling, are definitely good enough. Don’t let your thoughts tell you otherwise.” Although his voice was comforting, it did not help the unhinged thoughts running through my brain. 

“Then, why does it always hurt when I don’t get the role of the leading lady? Of his leading lady? I always get so far and then, at the end of the day, I’m just not what they’re looking for. What he’s looking for.” Pining for something so unimaginable was too taxing. Having the lead role in a play and having Jung Jaehyun wear his heart on his sleeve just for me. 

“Sometimes, the roles aren’t made for you and that’s okay.”

“But what about this one?”

“This one, twerp, this one is a little different.” 

“And why’s that?”

“Because there is music in you; it goes hand in hand with Jaehyun, like a melody to his harmony. You are his Ella and he’s your Topher,” Dejun urged. It was like he was begging me to not give up hope. 

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m really not. You just gotta do what the theatre gods tell us to do: just trust the process.” 

How could I trust the process when all it did was hurt me by allowing me to have a glimpse of a love and a life that would never be mine? 

Opening night finally arrived. Everyone was called to the theatre for a full run through in the afternoon: the final dress rehearsal hours before the doors opened and the curtains were drawn. I had gotten there earlier to soak in the calmness of the empty auditorium before the chaos began.

I heard heavy footsteps come from behind me. Even without turning around, I knew it to be Jaehyun. The boy took a seat next to me on the wooden prop walls that were locked into the ground. If the stage managers and props committee saw us, they would’ve definitely ripped our heads off but they weren’t— it was just us.  

“Penny for your thoughts, my dear Ella?”

“Topher,” I answered, playing along with his game. “Lovely to see you here bright at early.”

“I knew you would be here and I wanted to be here with you,” he said, pulling me into a side hug. Jaehyun knew me well but did he know me well enough? “Spill it, Forky. What’s wrong?”

“Sometimes I still doubt myself,” I said a little too fast. A loud sigh followed my reveal. The crippling doubt was always there, haunting me. Let me tell you, it was not the best thing in the world to have during an opening for a new production. 

“Oh yeah?” Jaehyun asked, pushing me to continue. I felt the soft brush of his palm against my hand. His fingers grabbed hold of my wrist before fighting their way to tangle with my own fingers. The sensation tickled, taking me away from my thoughts for a fraction of a second. I played with his fingers, watching the way his pinkish hand fit with mine. 

I refused to look at him; I was too afraid of breaking down.“Doubting myself, my abilities. Always the understudy, never the star, remember?”

Jaehyun hummed. He rested his chin on my shoulder. “Did something change?”

“Yeah, I finally realized that maybe it wasn’t that I wasn’t right for the part; the part wasn’t right for me,” I laughed a bit dryly. “Does that make any sense?” 

“Weirdly, yes,” he replied, his breath blowing against my neck. I tried to ignore the tickling sensation and the way it made me feel. 

“But this is different— I feel like I was made to play Ella. Made to play her even though I got the part in this odd, unconventional way,” I turned my head to the side to avoid eye contact. “The girl who sees the good in everything despite the hardships and suffering she went through.”

“Without a doubt, I believe that you belong on stage with me,” Jaehyun answered sincerely, “and I’m glad we have the chance to finally play opposites.” 

He squeezed my smaller palm in support. I appreciated the reassurance; the action slightly calmed me down before she took the next step. Possibly the biggest step of my entire life. “There’s something else I realized, too.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Jaehyun asked softly. 

Taking a deep breath, I said, “I realized that I could be right for you.” 

It took him a minute, a long solid minute before Jaehyun could bring himself to respond to my confession. I wondered what he was thinking at that moment, when those words left my mouth. “Right for me?” came his tentative reply. A quick glimpse at his ears and I saw the burst of red. He was caught off guard, embarrassed. 

“Yeah,” I said almost shamefully. Was I ashamed of my feelings? I never was ashamed before. Maybe it was because Jaehyun finally saw me for who I truly was— his highly dramatic best friend that was head over glass heels for him. 

“How long— how long have you felt this way?” The red of his ears seeped to his rosy cheeks. 

“Ever since we were a dumb pair of utensils,” I replied sincerely, my voice wavering at the truth, “a set of ridiculous tableware.”

There was an awkward chuckle that left his drying lips. I heard him click his tongue, a habit he did when Jaehyun never knew what to say. It seemed like I rendered him speechless. “Since we were sixteen? That long and you didn’t say anything?”

“You’re really asking me that?”

“Yes, I really am!”

“Jaehyun, c’mon. Use your brain! How was I supposed to? You’re my best friend and when you’re not my best friend, you’re out there chasing other girls,” I stopped to lick my drying lips. There was another inkling of silence and I gulped at how tense the atmosphere was. “And I thought maybe once, just once, you would chase after me, too.” 

I almost laughed; my greatest desire was finally out in the world and it was greeted by silence. 

“But what if I’m wrong for you?” 

And there it was. The rejection I was preparing for. Giving him a pained smile that failed to meet my ears, I said, “Then that’s life, I guess.”

“You guess?” 

“Well, I can’t make you act like you’re in love with me, can I?” I snapped, my pain taking the best of me. It clouded my brain, blocking off all rational thoughts out of my head. “This isn’t a play or a movie with a script, Jaehyun. This is real fucking life.” 

Hurt. I was being overwhelmed with a wave of hurt and anguish. My body was trembling as much as my eyes were. I felt them growing wet and I shut them closed. My hands curled into fists, nails digging into my skin. It stung but not as much as being rejected by the one you loved most. The lead of the movie in your mind. 

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jaehyun tried to stop me from getting off the stage. I pulled away from him, quickly snatching my belongings before heading to the nearest exit. Turning back around before I left the empty auditorium, I experienced another moment in slow-motion. 

There Jaehyun was in all his glory— denim jacket slipping over his broad shoulders, dark brown hair sticking up in all directions and a confused look on his face. He looked like a mess under the spotlight of my mind but nevertheless, he was my mess of a best friend.

He was my mess of a best friend and that was all he was going to be. That fact hurt more than being the forever understudy. 

Why couldn’t I fast forward this portion of my life? Why must I suffer this much?

Why couldn’t I escape the role of being second best?

If only my life was a movie, then maybe I wouldn’t be everyone’s second choice. His second choice.

If we were in a movie, Jung Jaehyun would be my best friend and my perfect match. Our story would be the typical friends-to-lovers saga that every girl dreams of. It would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack. 

Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

After that confrontation, you and Jaehyun were off and not off the charts— just off. The directors noticed it. The stage hands noticed. The cast noticed it. The final run-through before the curtains opened just finished and it was an absolute disaster because of the way you acted with Jaehyun. Every time he opened up his body to you, the response you gave him was closed off. Cold. 

To the rest of the cast and crew, the prince and princess didn’t seem very much in love that day— they didn’t even seem friendly. You and Jaehyun seemed like two strangers trying to work their way across a stage. There was no connection. There was nothing else there. 

Now, if only you would let Jaehyun talk to you, maybe something would change but you didn’t. You ran away every chance you could. It was like Cinderella, but you didn’t leave a glass slipper behind. You didn’t leave anything behind. 

Less than an hour before showtime and he couldn’t even talk to you. Let alone look at you. He sighed into his hand, palms applying pressure to his eyes. Jaehyun cursed under his breath, forgetting that he had a heavy amount of stage makeup on his face. Looking into the mirror, he saw his makeup was still intact. Thank the theatre gods for the Ben Nye Final Seal Setter. It seemed like that it was the only thing set in stone at that moment. 

The door to Jaehyun’s dressing room slammed open and Dejun waltzed in, fully dressed in his costume.“Dude, what was up with you and the twerp during that dress rehearsal? You were so off!”

He received no reply, Jaehyun was too zoned out to hear. Dejun hopped onto the counter of Jaehyun’s dresser. Usually, the action would shock the main lead but Jaehyun was too lost in thought.“Well, you know what they say about a bad dress rehearsal. That means we’ll have a good opening night,” Dejun said, eyeing his friend for his lack of response.

Finally looking away from his reflection, Jaehyun glanced up at Dejun with a look of disbelief. “She likes me?”

His friend jumped off the counter with widened eyes.“Oh my god, did she finally confess? Was that why you were acting weird?”

“Dejun, you knew?” Jaehyun slammed his palms on his dresser. The makeup products on the tabletop shook, leaving the other guy to wince at the show of strength. 

“Honestly for being the ace of the theatre department, you sure are dumb,” Dejun replied a bit too casually as he leaned into the mirror to examine his appearance. He clicked his tongue upon realizing his cheeks didn’t have enough color. The stage lights would wash him out. The boy reached for Jaehyun’s pink blush and a clean wedge before applying it onto the apples of his cheeks.

“What should I do?”

“Well, Jaehyun, what do you want to do?” Dejun asked, turning side to side to double-check his reflection. 

“I don’t know that’s why I’m asking you!” Jaehyun fired back with vigor, hating how casual his best friend was acting. He was having a before-show crisis and his best friend was calmly stealing his bottle of Ben Nye, spraying his beautifully sculpted face with the setting spray.

“Well, do you like her more than a friend? And what about Naeun?”

“Yes? No? I don’t know! But—”

“But?” His friend asked before hopping onto the countertop. The actor raised his perfectly shaped eyebrows at his friend and Jaehyun had the sudden urge to pluck the beauties they were until Dejun had no eyebrow hair left. When Jaehyun didn’t reply, Dejun repeated his question.

Dropping his head in his hands, Jaehyun hesitantly replied, “There was this moment when I saw her and it was like that thing she always said? The slo-mo thing?”

Dejun’s head perked up. “You saw her in slow motion?” 

“Yeah, it was like time stopped. All I saw was her and then…” Jaehyun thought back to seeing you in a wedding dress. He changed his mind; he didn’t want to talk about his feelings. All he wanted to do was make sure opening night ran as smoothly as possible. Grabbing his white suit jacket for the top of Act One, the boy stood up in an attempt to escape his friend’s sudden peak in curiosity. “Never mind, this is ridiculous. I gotta go, Dejun.” 

“No, you’re not going anywhere until you actually confront your damn feelings,” Dejun said, shoving his friend back in his chair. “Do you like Naeun?”

There was a pause before he answered truthfully: “Yes.”

“Okay, and are your feelings for Naeun stronger than what you have for your best friend?” 

“No,” Jaehyun released another sigh as he leaned back in his chair. A hand reached up to brush through his hair before he remembered that it was gelled back in place. He dropped his hand to rub the back of his neck, not wanting to mess with his looks before places. “I was infatuated with Naeun but with her, god, she’s something else and it took me this long to realize it.”

“How do I know you’re not just saying that?” Dejun questioned, squeezing his friend’s shoulders a bit too tightly. Jaehyun thought his friend was testing him and for a good reason. If he was in Dejun’s position, Jaehyun would’ve grilled his friend, too. “How do I know you’re actually in love with her? Yes, you’re my roommate and best friend but she’s my best friend, too. I can’t let you hurt her if all you feel is something temporary. I can’t let you treat her like those other girls.”

“Because she’s The One, Dejun. I’m certain of it,” Jaehyun snapped back. “When I look at her, I see everything I’ve been searching for. It’s like I was blind for the longest time, you know? She was always just Forky to me back when I didn’t know any better. But now I see and all I see is her— her, with all her flaws. The way she hides her insecurities with her dramatic outbursts. How she picks at her cuticles when she’s nervous or how she always steals my food at home. And the way she just fits with me. I can’t explain it.”

Jaehyun didn’t even give his friend a chance to butt in. He was still rambling on with a fond smile, his mouth running a mile. “She’s been there with me since the beginning, Jun. Before I was this prince of the theatre department, she was there. She’s been there since the beginning and even when I was chasing after girls, she was there at the middle of it all, and fuck, I want to go all the way to the end with her.”

Dejun released his hold on his friend and rolled his eyes. The boy made his way to the door of the dressing room before mumbling under his breath, “God, what is with you two and giving out monologues? I swear, when this is all over, you should become playwrights.”

“What?”

“Never mind me, Jaehyun,” Dejun opened the door and gestured for Jaehyun to follow the path— the path down the hall that led to you. “What are you waiting for? Go get her, we have 30 until Joohyun calls for places!”

“Dejun, it’s much more complicated than that.”

“It’s only as complicated as you make it out to be. Just— just go and talk to her, yeah?”

Jaehyun sighed deeply as he reached your dressing room door. He knocked lightly, running through the lines he wanted to say in his head before you shouted a faint “come in.” The door squeaked open to reveal you, his best friend in the whole entire world, touching up your makeup. The best friend that he was inescapably in love with. You watched him through the mirror as he leaned against the frame with crossed arms. 

“Can we talk after the show? There’s something I need to tell you— it’s important. I don’t think I—um, I have enough time to tell you now,” Jaehyun asked, stuttering through his words. Gone was the confidence he usually bared. The only thing left in him was a scared little boy, afraid of the problem his words may cause. 

The smile he received from you did not reach your ears. “Of course,” you replied curtly before turning away from him. He noted how you were over applying your blush and fidgeting with your costume. You were doing everything in your power to avoid him. 

The tugging of your ear, the biting of your lip, the picking of your cuticles. He saw all your bad habits. You were a ball of nerves and the speaker announced it was ten minutes before places.

“Hey, Forky?”

“Yes, Jaehyun?”

“You know that I believe in you, right? Always?”

There was a twitch at the corner of your lips. “I do.”

“Good,” Jaehyun approached you with caution. You watched him from your mirror, never making direct eye contact as he came closer. He dropped a kiss on the crown on your head, relishing in the way his plush lips against your torn bandana and the lace front wig. “Break a leg, my Ella.”

He observed you through your reflection and took in how beautiful you looked in your rags. You made the rags the costume department designed for you look like riches. 

“Same goes to you, my prince,” he heard you answer in that soft tone.  Again, you had sent him to the skies and the boy was struggling to find his way back down.

When it was time to draw the curtains and light the lights for the first performance of Cinderella, it seemed like everything fell into place.  Jaehyun stared at you across the stage, falling for the way the lights illuminated your figure in that white ball gown. The bright glow brought his attention to your bright grin, that beautiful and radiant smile of yours, that shocked him to his core. 

Jaehyun locked eyes with you and suddenly, he was drowning. He was drowning in your expressive eyes. He was drowning in your overflowing love. 

It was different being across from you in front of a full audience. There was a rush that took over him whenever he saw you and it beat the flurries his heart experienced with his other leading ladies. As you said your lines with that bewitching sparkle in your eye, Jaehyun hated himself for not realizing how much he loved you sooner or how you were never playing pretend. 

But that was okay because Jung Jaehyun loved you now. He loved you in the world you made believe on stage, where he was Prince Topher and you were his Ella, and he loved you in reality where you would always be the fork to his spoon. 

Opening night went smoothly and the roaring applause I received during my final bow sent me to the moon. The way Jaehyun looked at me across the stage with eyes filled with pride and joy blasted me to places I had never been before. I became high on this feeling of being under the burning spotlights. The feeling of wearing the most intricate costume and the way his hand slid into mine for the last bow before the curtains were drawn; it was something I wanted to treasure for the rest of my life.

But with every high came a low— my low hit me when I ran into Jaehyun’s dressing room. I caught him in an embrace with Naeun who gifted my best friend with a rose. She placed a kiss on his cheek, causing his white ears to flush a deep red that rivaled the flower he held. The girl gave him a quick shove of the shoulder before heading to me. 

Her congratulatory statement went in one ear and out the other. I could barely process Naeun handing me a rose of my own before she walked out of the room, the sweet scent of her perfume lingering in her wake. She gave my best friend one more lingering look as she left and it hurt me in so many ways.

“Ready to go?” Jaehyun said, clearing his throat. “Wanna stop by the stage first? Soak in your first opening night as a lead?”

“Why the hell not?” The walk back to the stage was short. It felt different somehow.

“We did it,” I whispered.

“That we did,” he answered back. 

We walked onto the stage together and I could still hear the crowds cheering for me, giving me the standing ovation I earned. It was electrifying, the way the sparks ran through my body. It ran from the top of my head to the tips of my fingers and toes. 

Glancing around the empty auditorium, I pondered aloud, “But do you know what sucks about it all, Jaehyun?”

“What?”

“There’s nothing worse than the feeling of not being chosen and it still hurts that I wasn’t the first choice,” I replied truthfully, “Not as much as before. But I’m learning to get over it. The casting directors saw potential in me.”

“That’s because you do have the potential to be a star. You’re practically glowing right now.” I felt his eyes trained on me, just like they were the entire time we shared the stage. 

Turning abruptly to face him, I said, “You really can’t say that to me, you know?”

“And why’s that?”

“Because it makes my heart beat against my chest and these stupid butterflies come around before I remember that you have never chosen me to be your first choice,” I glared. 

“But I do choose you,” Jaehyun pushed, his voice laced with desperation, “That’s what I was trying to tell you before you stormed off on me earlier!”

“Are you really choosing me, Jaehyun? The real me? The me that has been your best friend for years? Or are you choosing the me that shares a stage with you every night? The me that could potentially be your next whirlwind romance?” No matter how desperate he sounded, he couldn’t beat the hopelessness that was dripping from my own voice. 

“No, that’s not it at all!” his voice boomed, the sound echoing throughout the empty auditorium. 

“Then, what is it, Jung Jaehyun? Because I am tired of being second best and I’m tired of not being chosen,” I almost cried. The anguish was just taking over my body and I couldn’t make it stop. “Yes, I know some parts are not right for me but I can’t help but be hurt. And then you say that you’re choosing me? Of course, I’m going to think of it being because I’m your newest love interest on stage.”

“If you could just listen—”

Unable to stop the words from coming out, I just kept running off at the mouth. Everything I wanted to say to Jaehyun was flying out of my lips at rapid speed; I couldn’t even stop it. “I have seen you in slow motion so many times and I want to just fast forward from those moments. To speed past them so I can move on from the idea of not being yours. I refuse to be a temporary love that you lose interest in. I just want you to pick me, to choose me, and to love me, damn it— is that too fucking much to ask for? To be chosen and loved?”

While I was taking a breath to continue with my rant, Jaehyun cut me off and the words he said rattled the stage, the ground beneath my feet, and my whole entire world.“No, it’s not and you are way fucking more than that, if you just take a moment out of your godforsaken monologue and listen to me! I choose you not because you’re my leading lady but because you’re you. You’ve always been this— this incredible, breathtaking you.” 

He took one step closer and I took one step back. “And you’ve the person at my side when no one else is.” 

Every single time I would retreat, Jaehyun would follow. The boy was persistent, his brown eyes trained on me. “The one who figured out you loved me first while I was too blind to see it. You’re the fork to my spoon. We’re a set, we go together. And I was too dumb to figure out that at the end of the day, I always think about you and how no one I’ve ever been with compares to you.”

 When my back hit the wall, I was trapped. Trapped in between his arms and the way they propped themselves on either side of my face. Trapped in the haze of his brown eyes and how they dug deep into my soul. 

 “I don’t see you in slow motion— I see you in fast forward. I see you in the future, my future, walking down the aisle in white and I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. All I know is that I choose you. I will always choose you.”  

I was trapped by Jung Jaehyun and there was no escape for me. Judging by the way his eyes never let me out of his sight, there was a chance my friend didn’t want to let me go either. He wanted me to stay. 

“Jaehyun, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I love you. You’re my beginning, middle, and my end.”

“You love me? Like you’re in love with me?” Jaehyun heard you ask, like the possibility of being loved by him was so impossible. You were searching for any inkling of doubt but he made sure you couldn’t find any because you were the only thing he could see. 

Jaehyun brought a hand near your cheek. It hovered there as he hesitated to touch it to your skin until you leaned into his touch. Your cheek felt so warm in his palm and it was so comforting to have you in his hold. “I wanted to say it earlier but I was just so scared of losing you as both a lover and a friend because what if it all goes to shit? What if we go to shit and things hit the fan? I can’t lose you.” 

“But you, Jung Jaehyun, are in love with me?” you repeated as your hand cupped his own. The smile you gave him was bright enough to light up the stage. 

“Yeah, I thought I made that clear. I’m sorry, did I mumble that line?” he teased playfully, trying to coerce a giggle out of you. “Should I start the scene over?”

“No, no. I’m just—” you paused and he watched you recollect your thoughts. His glittering brown eyes were trained on you as the words processed in your head. “You love me,” you laughed in disbelief. 

Jaehyun took a step closer, his hand tentatively reaching out to stroke your face. He sighed in relief as you relaxed into his touch. “You’re my number one girl. I choose you.” 

“Well, it’s a good thing that even after all this time, I’ve always chosen you, too.”

Once those words left your lips, he couldn’t hold himself back. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Jaehyun pulled you against his chest and smashed his lips against yours. Yes, he had kissed you on multiple occasions prior to this— onstage and off— but this time was different than the rest.

 This was the first time he really kissed you after your feelings were out in the open.

The first time he kissed you and finally felt the love you harbored for so many years. Jaehyun just hoped you could sense the love he was pouring out for you, too. 

He did not want to let you go but he was struggling to breathe. You were so lovely, everything about you was so incredibly lovely, and to have you in his arms was the best feeling in the universe. Everything around him turned dark and he felt the warmth of a spotlight and the flush of your body against him. The entire world was spinning beneath his feet, his heart racing, and his lips chasing you and only you. 

Jaehyun did not understand why people did drugs— the high of being so ardently in love with another person, with you, gave him the high that he needed. 

He felt you hit his chest in an attempt to end the kiss but Jaehyun did not want to stop. A light shove to his shoulders was enough to separate his lips from yours and what a sight you were— chest panting heavily for air, lips plumped and swollen, and the prettiest set of eyes widened in shock.

“You kissed me!” you said in between pants. “Like not a stage kiss but you actually kissed me!”

“That I did, love,” Jaehyun replied cheekily, taking another step towards you. You stepped back to lean against the wall but did nothing to stop him from coming forward. “Are you gonna do something about it?” 

The look in your eyes changed after you heard his new nickname for you. It was coy. Flirty. Challenging. “Do it again, I dare you,” you whispered a bit too loudly. 

Before Jaehyun closed the distance, his eyebrow perked up at the challenge. “Gladly.”

Senior year was there before we knew it. 

Another year, another posting day. 

Dejun, Jaehyun, and I swiftly made our way down the hall to the front of the theatre department, curious to find out which roles we were given. The spring production and the final musical of our college career was Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. 

Callbacks for Belle went as smooth as ever— the chemistry between Jaehyun and I were off the charts. But why wouldn’t they be? We were together now. 

Just like any other time, the crowds gathering around the cast list and bulletin board parted immediately once they caught a glimpse of Jaehyun approaching. The only difference was that this time, he was tightly clutching my hand. 

When we arrived in front of the board, I shut my eyes before I could read the cast list. An anxious buzz flowed through my veins, tickling the tips of my fingers and toes. My boyfriend must’ve felt the twitching of my fingers or the sweat dripping off my palms. 

I felt his body shift towards me. “Want me to take a peek first, love?” Jaehyun asked as he pressed his plump lips onto the crown of my head. He nuzzled his nose into my hair, a small but sweet action that always comforted me. 

Shaking my head, I looked at him and said, “No, why don’t we look together?”

“On three?” he grinned lovingly.

“On three, you dumb spoon.”

The countdown was quick but the glance I took at the cast list was even quicker. It was so quick, I almost didn’t catch who was put into the role of Belle. Taking a double take, I let go of Jaehyun’s hand as my eyes zeroed in onto the tiny print. 

Everything around me came to a stop as I read and re-read the cast list. Everyone around me was celebrating their parts but I couldn’t hear them, they were all muted in my mind. All I could hear was the sound of my own breaths  and all I could see my name on the top of the page. 

Belle……………..Y/N The Beast……..Jung Jaehyun

“Oh my god, I got the part,” I whispered to no one in particular. Backing away from the board, I repeated the same words a little louder and it got the attention of everyone surrounding me. Before I knew it, everyone threw a congratulations my way. The cheers were loud and obnoxious but they were for me because I did it. I finally did it.

Feeling a little overwhelmed, I backed away from the blustering crowd before bumping into my boyfriend’s firm chest. Jaehyun caught me in his hold, his arms circling around my waist. He dropped his chin on my shoulder and placed a tender kiss on my temple. “Would you look at that? We’re not a ridiculous set of tableware this time.”

“No disrespect to those parts, they were awesome, but I think I like this a lot more,” I giggled, turning in his hold. 

As I circled my arms around his neck, he whispered, “Same here.”

I yanked him down into an earth-shattering kiss that sent the world spinning beneath my feet. It slowed down, speeded up, and it did everything in between. I saw flashes of yellow ball gowns, royal blue coats, and Jaehyun smiling at me gracefully across the stage. 

Jaehyun staring me down from the other end of an altar. 

I saw it all. 

If my life was a movie, then this would be the time that the screen would fade to black and show the names. Some overly poppy song would resonate through the speakers and everyone would get up from their seats and gush over the happy ending.

But it wasn’t. My life was as real as it could be and it was even better than any romantic-comedy that would ever grace the screen. 

This wasn’t the ending. 

This was the perfect beginning. 

AUTHOR’S NOTE. hello, my darling readers! you really didn’t have to wait that long for this release, did you? a big thank you to several people: @johtenrecs for always being my beta and for the helpful feedback, to my chaotic gc ( @smoll-tangerine, @ppangjae, @jaedore​, and @jeongvision) for listening to me complain about how i was losing it while writing this fic, to @suhpressed​ for helping me with brainstorm, and lastly, to my lovely @notnctu bc without her and our crazy idea of hosting a hannah montana collab, i wouldn’t have gotten this idea! love y’all! hope you enjoyed this and please leave feedback! uwu

TAGLIST. @yasmini24 @jaehyunnie77 @emmybyeakitty @fluffyjaes @aevizen @dearjaehyxn @yourmagnanimousholiness @jaehyvnsvalentine @keemburley @softieus @lanadreamie @lebrookestore  @notmangojuice @felixn-recs @captainsjoongs @anotherfullsun @ukiyoneo @kunrengui​ @babyyynatty​ 

© sehunniepotwrites, 2021

[snifflesthemouse]

Harry’s the Problem. His wife is the symptom. He is the real Diana 2.0 Wannabe...

         Since the Oprah interview aired, my whole perspective regarding the spare and his spouse has shifted. It would seem that I’m not alone in my thought process as more and more media outlets start reporting similar stances. Just recently, there was an article suggesting Harry didn’t change; but rather, he is only finally revealing his true self. The more I think about it all, the more I’ve come to the realization #6 is the real culprit behind everything.

         I’m not saying that his wife doesn’t have her own agenda or shares responsibility for her part in all this. Her hands are far from clean. What I am saying is it’s finally time for all of us to consider the cold, hard truth. Harry is his mother’s child. Harry is the bad egg, and his wife is only a side effect of the real problem here.

         Had it not been for the Oprah interview, I would have never put it all together. The problem with oversharing is too much information gets put out in the public. Most assume PR firms would worry about oversaturation in the press, but the real problem comes from personal interviews they cannot control in real-time. Puff pieces can be edited before publishing so facts and statements align; live interviews cannot. Over time, one of two patterns form from this oversaturation. Consistencies, repetitions, and similarities can be found in oversaturated truth-telling. Inconsistencies, changes, and huge differences result from those like Harry who prefer their trousers scorching hot from bursting into flames from deception. When you consistently lie, the only constant is the inconsistencies. 

         Now, those of us who have been following these two already know by now inconsistencies and changing stories should be expected. But the Oprah interview really highlighted some interesting things I had previously missed. The interview with Dax Shephard only solidifies my theories. Up until lately, those two have been together through most everything. Very seldom have we seen Harry alone in an interview or speech. There’s never a time where the missus isn’t popping up. James Corden proved that. Then we have the Oprah interview where she was supposed to be the star of the show. But, that was the moment it all changed. That interview was the moment she became the understudy. 

          Think about it. Who is the one being used in the media lately? Most people would suggest that the impending delivery of child number dos is why the missus is absent. One would then argue the Apple + special with Oprah started production well before the second child was a topic for discussion. The missus is being used less and less on camera or in the media. Everything is all about Harry. Forget about when Harry met Sally; Harry Met Hollywood! 

         Harry is the one doing the interviews, dropping projects, and talking with big Hollywood names. Even their announced Netflix projects are focused on one of Harry’s pre-married concepts. All the wife has going for her is a book that’s only number one in the “Books written by ex-Royals who couldn’t hack it” category. Seriously though, as of this posting the Bench is #2130 on the Amazon Books list, #12 in Children’s Black and African American Story Books, #73 in Children’s Emotions Books, and #167 in Children’s Family Life Books. Being pregnant isn’t a disqualifier for being interviewed. But, apparently being just the wife is.

         So, if it was his wife’s plan from the beginning to marry Harry, get him to abandon his family, move to California, and become a big star with a Prince for a husband, her plans have been ruined. And if you think about what she said in the interview with Oprah, you can actually see the moments she told us all exactly that. She clearly tells Oprah Harry was her direct link and source to the Royal Family and everything she needed to know. She didn’t misspeak or misunderstand a thing; she was telling us that Harry’s next to be markled. In every weird answer or revelation where she gave her versions for why their child(ren) were without title, saying they wed three days before the chapel, or having to cry out to HR since Harry failed to help her while she was so depressed she wanted to kill herself and her unborn child... all of it. It was all just the beginning. It may seem like she is attacking her husband’s family, but Harry’s the real target now.

          In just a couple sentences, she managed to reveal who Harry really was. Harry, of all people, should (and does) know how to navigate the press. Clearly, he failed to not only help her acclimate to Royal life, but it could also even be argued he set her up for failure for the get go. Let me give you an example. When my husband introduced me to his family for the first time, he told me little tidbits of information he found important for me to know. He essentially prepped me for the meeting so things went well. He wanted his family to like me because he loved me. I wanted them to like me because I loved him, too. So, I took to heart everything he told me. Yet, Harry’s wife shared with the world how little Harry cared about that. She credits Fergie with teaching her to curtsey, google for teaching her the National Anthem, and even said Her Majesty made her feel especially welcomed. So how did Harry not do more? If they started seeing one another in the early Summer of 2016, how is it Harry failed to teach or explain anything to her prior to meeting his grandmother, the Queen, when he had months and months of time to do so? How is it he failed his wife so miserably, she didn’t even understand basic UK custom, laws, or protocols? Why might you ask?

         Simply put, Harry is so much like his mother, all he knows is how to play the victim narrative while using the link to the Royal family as a nonstop ATM machine. Many people aren’t honest with themselves when it comes to Diana. She wasn’t the Mother Theresa everyone makes her out to be. Mother Theresa wasn’t a Mother Theresa either, though. Did Diana do some great things? Absolutely. Did she do them only because they were nice or great? Absolutely… not. Diana’s PR team would even have her switch up her charity causes whenever they felt it was getting to martyrdom level. They’d refer to her PR stunts as flavors. Does that sound like an innocent woman?

         Not to me. This whole time we all have seen his wife as the root of all issues, but she’s the side effect. It’s becoming more clear by the day that Harry searched out her. He wanted someone with the basic Hollywood connections that he could capitalize. Someone that seemed so controlling and ambitious it would be easy to believe they were controlling him, too. Of course he knew she would invite all the celebs she did. He probably inspired that guest list. Instead of guiding her in the press and in British society, he leads her to slaughter. He hides behind her repeated gaffes and wokeness to keep on his own mission.

         You see, Harry is obsessed with his brother eventually becoming king, being the “Second Son of Diana” and being the misfit. He is obsessed with his brother and father. They are all he talks about. When you obsess on something like that, it is more revealing than anything you say. Harry’s true motives aren’t protecting his wife and children. His real motive is making a name for himself like his mother did. If he can manage to get some revenge by making the Firm feel some backlash, hey that’s a bonus. 

         While his wife may think in her mind she will be the next Diana 2.0, the truth is we all missed who really will be. Harry is the one wanting to be Diana 2.0. If that’s the case, then that means the much older spouse for whom there are two children with, aka the wife, would be his Charles. Remember, Diana lost her HRH and titles. And we have Harry being very aggressive and pushy, to the point it seems he is trying to get ahead of a Palace announcement of them losing their titles. But it makes sense now.

         They aren’t trying to lose anything, but instead Harry keeps opening his mouth to create pressure in the media. He knows his wife does not want to give those titles back. But if he himself keeps saying outrageous things, then it would put everyone in ultimatum mode. Either Harry will push hard enough that Parliament and the Queen will have enough, or the press will get so critical of the two, Harry will push his wife to agree to returning the titles.

         Harry is following the Diana business model. While in the Royal Family, they both were seen as rock stars who had more star power the the Sovereign, which was an issue. Then, they couldn’t take all the abuse, coldness, and inhumanity, so they bolted for freedom. Instead of putting the past behind them, they use the past to monetize grief and trauma in such a way, they become their own brand. Right now, the trauma being monetized comes from the past, but the problem will soon come when that trauma is tapped out. He will need a source of new pain or victimhood. Enters the wife stage left.

          The wife is a tool. She of course has her own plans and thinks she is the one in control or the genius. She thinks she is the one everyone wants to work with. But it’s becoming clear to her that isn’t the case and she’s been played by her elite buddies. They all want him, not her. They all duped her for him. If I can see it, and I can see her already finger pointing that Harry is the failure here, then she can see it. And that means paradise will soon be lost in those Montecito hills. His wife won’t go down without a serious fight here. I wouldn’t even be surprised if she eventually causes him to lose his special visa. 

         Overall, Harry hides behind his wife like a beard or shield protecting him from the press’s glaring lens. He lets her do and say whatever she thinks is great so he can keep plotting his own plans. He allows her to take the fall, look stupid, pull stunts people can see through, etc. for a reason. He isn’t completely sure he can make it in his new California life. He knows he can’t if he keeps her for too long, but he also knows he needs an exit strategy in case it blows up. So, he pins the press to attack her as the true culprit. If they split and he has to, he can return home and play the victim of her. If they split and he is doing okay in Hollywood, she can be the reason he plays victim to big named people like Oprah and Gayle. 

         I can see it now. An Oprah Special with Harry tonight on Apple +. Something cheesy or corny that is almost plagiarism. Like Narcissus and the Prince or something. Watch. Mark my words. Oprah talking to Harry about surviving the marriage while trying to rescue two small kids, being in the spotlight as a Royal while being gaslit by a narcissistic wife… yes I can see the green screen set up now.

         I know this is difficult to digest, but I do ask you to try. While his wife is not innocent, she clearly is guilty for her own part indeed, his wife isn’t the true problem. The true problem here is a man who has a serious issue with living in the shadow of his future-King father and future-King brother, and his future-King nephew, that he has chosen to use the same exact attack model his own mother used to merch and marginally disrupt the institution that made her a star. Harry and his mother both wanted the entire spotlight, but both knew they could never have it the way they wanted it. So, they wrote their own victimhood narrative.

         And here we are now. Mark my words. Harry will keep pushing until those remaining titles are removed by them forcing the hands of Parliament and the Queen. Or, they’ll push and push in the press so much the outrage and hypocrisy will leave them no other option but to renounce and re-gift those titles and rights to the line of succession. That is what he wants, even if his missus doesn’t. Also make no mistake about it. Harry is the real Diana 2.0 wannabe, not his wife. Keep an eye out. I have this gnawing feeling that soon enough, there will be plenty leaks from the wife about the husband. She won’t go quietly into the Beverly Hills… but neither will he.

[crimsonfic]

Jeon Jungkook Fanfiction (Part 1)

“Don't act like I haven't taught you anything!"

"Okay." I replied.

"I'm serious, this is a big deal. They are international superstars and they're allowing us to photograph their spread. We can't mess this up."

"Okay."

"Is that what you're wearing?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Um....okay." I replied.

Meet my boss. Anna Mackey. I'm her assistant. Which means I do whatever she wants. I'm supposed to be sort of an understudy to her with me wanting to be a photographer and all but it quickly turned into something else.

Even though she's rude, nasty, and annoying, she's amazing at what she does, which is why I'm swallowing my pride with this job.

When she's not being a bitch she's teaching me so much and giving me the opportunity of a lifetime. I've been in the presence of many stars and if they remember my face I can potentially have future clients. Fingers crossed.

Currently, I'm wearing blue jeans and a white sleeveless blouse with yellow polka dots.

"Go into the clothing studio and find something that matches me. Don't rip anything with your big butt!" She told me gesturing for me to go.

I turned around quickly so she wouldn't see me roll my eyes.

She's always commenting on my body and it's annoying. One day my butt is too big, one day it's not big enough, one day I have rolls, the next I don't. I think she just says stuff just to hear herself talk.

"Quickly!" She shouted.

Moving as quickly as I could I dashed upstairs to change. I searched the racks until I found something I could fit. Anna was wearing a white blouse and black skirt with white stitching. It took me a minute to decide what to wear because if I matched her exactly she would be mad but if I didn't match her exactly she would also be mad.

Crazy right?

I put on a black sleeveless blouse with a white collar, and a black skirt.

I joined her back down stairs in the studio where she had the photoshoot sites.

She looked at me from head to toe slowly. "Take off your shoes. They don't match."

Well thank goodness I polished my toes a couple days ago, otherwise she might've fired me. I slid out of my ballet flats.

"Green....hm." She remarked.

"Yes, I like green." I told her.

"So do I." She said.

I smiled. She looked away.

Another common occurrence between us.

"Hello, BTS is here." Monica, the receptionist, said as she walked them into the room.

"Hello, welcome!" Anna exclaimed.

Anna kicked off the introductions, skipping over me I might add.

I noticed that the guys looked a little perplexed, probably trying to figure out why I wasn't introduced. As much as I would love to meet them, I can't initiate our introduction myself or else. Anna would probably fire me.

I was in speak when spoken to mode. I needed this job no matter how awful it could get.

Anna walked them around the set, and showed them where they could get dressed at. I followed behind her quietly. Ready to do whatever she commanded.

When the guys went upstairs to prepare for the photoshoot Anna turned to me.

"I don't like your hair." Anna said.

Now, even though I can suck everything up when it comes to this job, my hair is one of those things I will not compromise. I wouldn't let any of my ethnic features be the target of her bullshit.

Before I showed my true reaction I asked "why?"

Anna simply shook her head after a few moments of silence. That confirmed that it was indeed some bullshit that she was thinking.

My hair was up in a pineapple ponytail. I worked hard on these curls too so I'd be damned if I let her make me feel bad about it.

There was a moment of silence before either of us spoke again.

"I don't like your hair coming into your face like that because it could make it difficult for you to use the cameras today."

"You're letting me photograph BTS?" I asked in shock.

"Yes."

I stared at her for a moment, deciphering whether she was being honest or not.

I reached up, and took the ponytail holder out of my head, letting my mountain of curls drop.

I shook them out and then smoothed my hair back into a ponytail. It was difficult because my hair is thick and without a brush it was probably bumpy and wild looking.

"Better!" She exclaimed with a small smile. "Now we can see your beautiful face."

I almost busted out laughing. Today was gonna be weird.

—————

BTS was in the ice cream parlor set. She had them along a counter with milkshakes or ice creams. It was actually quite nice. Their stylist did amazing with their clothes too.

"(Y/n) I need you to adjust this light for me." Anna said.

I walked over to the large light and turned it. This light was supposed to help it appear like sun was beaming into the ice cream shop.

I walked away to grab a reflective sheet and stool. When I came back I stood on the stool and held the sheet at an angle above the light.

"Yes, perfect! Thank you (y/n)" Anna replied as she began photographing them more.

"Can we get more ice cream on set? Suga's melting." "Hurry I don't want it to spill."

Lucy ran into set and took the ice cream from Suga.

Instead of getting rid of it herself she decided she should give it to me.

"Here." She said as she walked over to me.

"Um...." I replied thoroughly confused. "I'm kind of doing something."

"This is your job to do whatever Anna says, you can go get new ice cream." Lucy replied.

Now, unfortunately a lot of people around here think they can talk to me however they want because Anna does but the thing is, they don't sign my check nor do they have a say so in me working here so the reaction they think their gonna get is never the one they receive.

"You can do it. I can't do that and this." I replied.

She stared at me. Very angry I might add.

I stared back.

"Lucy get the ice cream! Now!" Anna called from a distance.

She rolled her eyes at me before stomping away maturely.

"Sorry." I said to Anna.

She waved her hand. "Not your fault." She said.

Lucy came back and handed Suga a new dish of ice cream.

With that, the photoshoot began again.

"Alright, I've got all I needed here. Ready for the next set?" Anna asked the guys.

"Yeah!" They said eagerly and together.

"Okay, follow me." Anna said leading them to the next set up.

As I was getting down and preparing to move the lights, they were getting styled and positioned.

I tried not to stare too much, but they were a nice looking group of guys. They were laughing and joking a lot too, keeping the atmosphere light and fun. I didn't want to seem like a fan because I didn't want it to be awkward for anyone.

I finally brought the last light over to the set. On this one it was just a white backdrop.

"Alright lets start with some smiles." Anna says.

I adjusted the light as needed, depending on where they moved or how they positioned themselves.

The guys were laughing, singing, talking. Making the shoot more natural and believable. I could only imagine what the pictures would come out as. It caused everyone to have a good time. Anna even ordered that someone put some music on. This was one of the most relaxed shoots I've had the pleasure of working on.

"(Y/n) can we get that stool in the shot? I want to add more layers." Anna said to me.

"Sure." I said stepping down and putting the sheet on the ground. I walked the stool onto the set and V reached for it. "Thank you." He said.

"Do we have any more?" Anna asked.

"Yeah, one sec." I replied before hurrying off to grab another stool from near the stairs. I dragged two of them back with me.

"What do you think? Why don't you put them somewhere you think it works best? Let's see how you do." Anna said. Surprising me.

BTS needed to come more often if it was gonna get her to be this nice.

"Okay....um...RM, you sit here." I said placing a stool down for him.

"Okay."

"Annnnd......hmm...Jimin, you sit here." I said motioning to him.

I then positioned the rest of them around the ones sitting.

"There. You don't have to stay exactly where I put you just try to keep the same shape if you get what I mean."

"Ahhhh." They said in response. As if they were in awe.

"Good choice. I like to be next to V." J hope said with a laugh.

I laughed as well.

"Be as playful as you want." Anna told them before getting ready to shoot.

I quickly walked back over to the light I was standing at repositioning it since I wouldn't be holding the reflective sheet anymore.

Then I bent down to pick up the sheet to put it away so it wouldn't cause any random glares.

Before I stood up though something cold and heavy flopped down on my head. I gasped, taken aback by the impact.

Blinking through what was now running down my face I realized it was ice cream. I stood up quickly.

"Oh my god!" Anna said.

I heard gasps from other people around me.

"My bad, I tripped." Lucy said. "I'm sorry." She added.

She's full of shit. She did it on purpose, there's no reason the ice cream should've been over on this set anyway.

I turned to face her as the ice cream just ran down my head onto my arms, into my shirt, on my toes, everywhere. I noticed she was holding two of the ice cream bowls that had been used.

"Are you fucking serious?" I asked quietly as I felt my anger and embarrassment building.

This was it. I was going to get fired. I was about to lose it right now.

Lucy had the nerve to have a smirk on her face right now.

"It was an acci-"

"No it was not!" I cut her off.

"Okay, (y/n) go clean yourself up, take your time." Anna said.

"Why would you do that?" I asked Lucy ignoring Anna.

"Like I said, it was an accident." Lucy replied still looking smug.

Anna cleared her throat. I knew it was a reminder that we had clients and we needed to conduct ourselves professionally.

"Lucy make yourself scarce. Now." Anna said.

I felt some one wrap their arm around me turning me around. It was David, one of the only people here who was nice to me.

"Come on sweetie." He said as he led me to the bathroom.

I was shaking. Legitimately shaking because I was angry, embarrassed and cold.

In the bathroom he helped me wash the ice cream out of my hair, brought me a change of clothes, and kept me calm. He even brought me my purse realizing I would need my glasses now that I had to take my contacts out.

"Babygirl when we go back out there, you need to hold your head high." He told me as he brushed my hair back in to a ponytail. "You still look marvelous, by the way, this slick back looks good on you. Your curls in this ponytail look just as good and everything. Don't let that bitch get to you." He added.

I watched him through the mirror.

"Thank you." I said.

"No problem. Now put on your glasses pretty girl." He told me.

I obeyed.

"Yaaas geek chic." He said, causing me to laugh.

David was like a dad to me even though he was only 12 years older than me. I call him daddy David because he and his husband always told me that they would want their daughter to grow up and be just like me.

"Thank you." I told him.

"Of course, now lets go make this hoe mad." He replied.

When I stepped back onto the set Anna handed the camera to me.

"Are you sure?"

"Are you questioning me?" She asked.

"No." I smiled as I took the camera from her.

She stepped off to the side to watch.

I took a deep breath before diving into the shoot. We did a lighting change, a mood change, position change and angle change.

Right now I was taking photos of the guys from above as they laid down. I was very careful not step on or trip over anyone as I maneuvered between them.

Now I was standing over Jungkook.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

He nodded his head.

"Are you sure? Do we need to reposition ourselves?"

"No. It's fine." He said quickly.

I asked because he was looking a little uncomfortable. Almost nervous or scared.

"You ready?" I asked

"Yes." He replied.

Once I lifted the camera up he looked more relaxed.

There was one look he gave that almost made me drop the camera. Not even gonna lie.

"Can I lift my leg?" He asked.

"Yes of course."

I thought the look he did before was something, but this, this was difficult to shoot. He looked like he was laying in bed waiting on his lover or something. Whew.

"Okay. Got it." I said lowering the camera and stepping back.

He got up quickly with a smile on his face.

I had to turn around before I looked creepy staring at him with my mouth open.

However, my clumsy self fell forward, straight towards the floor from turning around so quick.

My only instinct was to protect the camera because I couldn't afford to replace it if it had broken. I clutched it to my chest and prepared for the worst but it never came.

Jungkook had caught me at the last second. He was literally standing over me with me in between his legs holding me with his arm around my hips tightly, and the other across my shoulders. My face was mere inches from the floor.

He pulled me up quickly, and stepped back.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yes. Thank you." I replied breathless as I was a bit shaken up. I turned to face him.

"No problem. You should probably put your glasses on huh?" He asked me with a smile.

I slid them down over my eyes from where they were on top of my head.

"Yep." I replied with a laugh.

"I'm Jungkook." He said formally introducing himself to me.

"I'm (y/n)."

"Nice to meet you."

"Same." I smiled.

—————

The guys were getting ready to head out and I was putting equipment away when Jungkook ran over to me.

He casually handed me his cellphone. I felt myself blushing as I put my number in it.

"I will, text you. Okay?" He said with a smile.

"Okay." I replied smiling back.

"Have a good night." I added.

"Yes, you too." He told me before turning and leaving.

The rest of the guys waved goodbye to me. I waved back. Genuinely excited.

It's funny how things work out. I've liked Jungkook since I first saw him and now he has my number.

——————

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Injury | Insecurity | Part 4

[hyperfixatedimagines]

The Moon & her Star: Ch 2

Summary: Star crossed lovers trying to make it work but as outside pressures get to them will they choose to stay together?

A/N: Thank you to those that enjoyed the first chapter. I hope you like this one.

(Y/N) knew what their arrangement would be before Luna had even finished kissing her.

She knew Luna would never be with her in the light of day.

Not because they were both girls, Monet had been out and proud since seventh grade (allegedly), but because (y/n) didn’t come from old or new money.

She came from no money.

Luna’s lungs were beginning to burn but she didn’t want to stop kissing (y/n). She knew the moment she stopped (y/n) they would have to talk about the harsh reality of their situation. Luna had plans, plans she couldn’t let (y/n) derail. But god- (y/n)’s lips felt so good. She wanted to throw it all away and keep kissing (y/n) forever.

-

The first month of their clandestine relationship was heaven, or as close as (y/n) ever thought she’d get.

(y/n) loved the secret touches as they’d pass each other in the halls, their fingertips just barely brushing the other’s.

(y/n) loved the adrenaline rush of kissing Luna in the shadowy corners of Constance halls, classrooms, and the occasional girls’ bathroom stall.

Most importantly, (y/n) loved spending evenings in the theater building basement going over her lines with Luna.

Thanks to their passionate kiss that night (y/n) had been able to pull herself together for her audition, and she nailed it.

(y/n) was cast as the female lead for the spring musical, as Maria in west side story.

So she had Luna help her by running lines ,and practicing the choreography together. Luna hated to admit how much she enjoyed the theater, and especially how much she enjoyed acting alongside (y/n).

“You’re overthinking it (y/n),” Luna said as she gently brushed some flyaways from (y/n)’s face.

“Or maybe I’m not thinking enough. This is my one chance Lune, if I don’t-”

Luna cut her girlfriend’s self sabotage off with a delicate finger to (y/n)’s lips.

“(Y/n), you are so insanely talented. These past few weeks that I’ve run lines with you I can see that your star is going to burn so bright. Please don’t overthink it, let your intuition guide you.”

(Y/N) didn’t know how to respond. She’d never heard Luna talk like that.

Luna dropped her finger from (y/n)’s mouth and went to grab the script she’d left on a nearby table. “Now, let’s do another run of the scene at the end of act one.”

“The kissing scene,” (y/n) asked, even though she knew that was exactly what Luna was referring to.

Luna wrapped her arms around (y/n)’s neck.

“I think you need a little more practice,” Luna teased.

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around Luna’s waist, pulling her closer.

“Oh really? Well if it’s for the show, we must practice.”

Luna nodded. “Of course, we have to get it just right. Even if that means doing it over and over,” Luna leaned in closer, “and over again.”

Their lips met and the world around them disappeared. Only their lips and beating hearts mattered.

If only it had stayed that way.

-

The second month of their relationship was….rocky.

As the spring musical approached (y/n) became more and more stressed, unable to enjoy the shadowy kisses and forbidden glances.

Luna tried her best to comfort (y/n) but she had problems of her own to deal with. Her parents were staying at the New York residence less and less. Luna knew it was because of their busy schedules but a part of her wondered if it was them choosing to be away from her.

And then there was Julien.

She had be gaining quite a following online, and wasn’t sure what to do with all the growing attention. Monet had mobilized, but Monet knew exactly what she wanted to do with life. Monet had a clear ten year plan to success, and it included Luna.

There was no Luna without Monet and no Monet without Luna. They had best friends since seventh grade. They both wanted success and would stop at nothing to achieve it.

So they became Julien’s management team. Monet focusing on the business side and Luna the fashion side.

Which left Luna and (y/n) little time to sneak away and pretend they weren’t star crossed lovers.

Luna still came to the theater building basement to be with (y/n) but she was focused on planning Julien’s outfits for the week.

“Lune if you aren’t mentally here what is the point of you being physically here,” (y/n) spat.

She had such little time left until opening night and the director was on her ass about her dancing. The least Luna could do was pay attention the few hours of the day she saw her.

Luna put her phone down, screen side up, next to her on the bench.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

Luna’s phone buzzed with notification after notification. Luna glanced at the phone before guiltily looking back at (y/n).

“Forget it,” (y/n) replied.

(Y/N) sighed and walked over to her book bag.

“I think we should go. I doubt I’m gonna nail the final dance number tonight.”

Luna grabbed her phone and began typing away.

“I won’t be able to see you Saturday. Julien needs me to help her pick out a dress for spring formal.”

(Y/n)’s shoulders sagged. Not surprised Luna cancelled their date yet again.

“Spring formal? Isn’t that months away?”

Luna looked up at (y/n) incredulously. “Do you think the perfect dress just magically appears a week before an event?”

“You’re right, I guess.”

Luna softened. “It’s important to Julien I be there.”

“Then you have to go, be a good friend.”

(Y/n) turned to kiss Luna goodnight but Luna’s phone pinged and once again Luna had mentally left the building. (Y/n) sighed.

“Crap, I have to go meet Monet. I’ll see you next Tuesday?”

She gave (y/n) a quick peck on the lips before leaving.

(Y/n) stood there, wondering where her Luna had gone.

-

In the two weeks leading up to opening night (y/n) hadn’t seen or talked to Luna at all.

Sure she’d seen Luna in class but she knew better than to try to talk to Luna in front of Luna’s friends.

(Y/n)’s texts had been left on delivered for days.

If Luna did respond it was a quick, I promise we’ll meet up soon.

Soon never came.

(Y/N) tried her best to focus on her role, but all she could think about was her failing relationship.

She missed Luna.

And as the distance between them grew the more (y/n) came to resent the secrecy of their relationship.

If people knew they were together then (y/n) and Luna could spend more time together. They’d be able to hold hands in the halls like Aki and Audrey. They could sit together at lunch, and even hang out at each other’s homes.

The more (y/n) thought about what she and Luna could be, the more bitter she became because she knew Luna would never accept it.

(Y/N) stared at Luna in class, wondering if Luna was worth the ache in her chest.

-

Opening night was one day away. (Y/n) had been on edge but that day she was radioactive.

She was messing up her lines, and forgetting dance steps.

The director was worried, and had even threatened to replace (y/n) with her understudy- a freshman. This was her big chance. She couldn’t mess it up now…but she was afraid she was going to.

So she stayed late that day, forcing herself to get it all right.

And it was paying off. That evening (y/n) hadn’t missed one line, and every step was filled with grace.

“You’re going to be the best Maria Constance has ever had.”

(Y/N) turned around, elated at the sound of her lover’s voice.

“Lune!”

She ran towards Luna. Luna stepped into the room meeting (y/n) halfway.

(Y/N) leaned in to kiss her but Luna turned away.

“Is something wrong?”

Luna sighed. “I didn’t want to do this tonight. I know how important tomorrow is to you but-“

(Y/N)’s stomach twisted into knots. She knew what was coming. She’d known this was always going to be the outcome of their relationship. (Y/N) had just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.

“Don’t. Please Luna not tonight.”

Tears started to prick at the edges of Luna’s eyes.

“(Y/N), you and I both know this isn’t working. Why go on pretending another day?”

(Y/N) balled her fists. “Maybe because tomorrow night is the most important day of my life? And having my girlfriend break up with me the night before is beyond cruel.”

Luna turned to face (y/n). “I’m not doing this to hurt you I-“

“It’s kinda hard to see it any other way.”

Luna wiped away the tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“Monet and I are going to spring formal together.”

“What?” (Y/n) staggered backwards onto a nearby bench, the wind knocked out of her.

“She asked me a few days ago and I told her I would.”

(Y/N)’s chest began to ache. “Do you have feelings for her?”

Luna sighed. “That doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? If you’re breaking up with me for Monet I deserve to know.”

Luna took a seat next to (y/n) on the bench.

“I’m not breaking up with you for Monet. I just- when she asked me to the dance I hesitated and she asked if I already had a date.”

Luna turned to (y/n).

“And I realized that we hadn’t talked about spring formal. I realized we hadn’t really spoken in weeks…..I realized it was so easy to forget we were together because we never really had been in the first place. Kissing in the bathroom stall and hanging out in this basement once a week isn’t a relationship (y/n)…we both deserve better.”

Tears ran down the sides of (y/n)’s face as she tried hard to not look at Luna. If she looked at Luna she knew she’d beg Luna to stay.

So she stared at the ground instead. “And we both know you’ll never be better,” (y/n) said with as much venom in her voice as she could muster.

Luna’s stomach sank. She knew (y/n) was right. Luna wanted to be better for (y/n), but she couldn’t be. She was a coward. So she took the coward’s way out and said nothing.

Luna stood up and walked to the door. Just before leaving she turned back to (y/n).

“Break a leg tomorrow night (y/n).”

(Y/N) waited until the door closed behind Luna before breaking down completely. She sobbed into her hands, feeling her lungs burn as she let out silent screams.

She had always known it would end this way but (y/n) couldn’t have predicted it would end the night before her grand debut.

-

Opening night was a blur to (y/n).

All she remembered of the night was the heat of the stage lights, and the silence of the crowd.

The silence. The deadly silence. And the scorching heat.

(Y/N) had waited for that night for months, years even, and now that it had come all (y/n) could think about was Luna La’s peach lip gloss.

She remembered the heat of the stage lights and the silence of the crowd…then she remembered darkness.

[inredunderlinedx]

ohohoh okay so we all know Nat isn’t that big on opening up to people, so i refuse to believe that she would be completely open with r initially. so maybe like R thinks nat doesn’t like her, and they’re at one of Starks balls/parties, and nat gets jealous that some of the men are starting to eye r up?? and the lyrics from exile “ i can see you standing honey with his arms around your body/laughing but the jokes not funny at all “

or even if r notices Nat’s staring and perhaps approaches her abt it? with the lyric “ i can see you staring honey like he’s just your understudy/like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me “

angst(?) with a good ol confession thing at the end? maybe a first kiss if you’re feeling it? female reader new avenger <333 THANKU ILY

A/n: OF COURSE! this is actually such a good idea! I’ll do a little mix of both 😉 @moonflowcrr

I can see you standing honey, with his arms around your body… Natasha Romanoff x reader

A/n: this fic will use she/her pronouns! As always requests for different pronouns in a new fic are welcome!

Being new is never fun in any situation. Being the new Avenger? So much harder.

The Avengers were like a family, and I was the foster kid their dad brought home one day. None of them knew what to do with me, so I felt pretty alone.

I tried to make friends, I really did, but most of them seemed annoyed by me and other were outright rude.

More specifically Natasha Romanoff, aka The Black Widow. I was positive she hated me.

She held me back from missions, made me spend hours training with her—where she would belittle me— and she completely disregarded my presence otherwise.

thankfully, Tony Stark seemed to take a liking to me after I helped him with a technical malfunction with his suit on a mission.

That’s how I ended up invited to a stark gala.

I knew what I should expect from the event, but honestly nothing could have prepared me for what it was actually like.

I showed up in a sparking black dress,

•

(Regular) it had a skirt to the floor, and a leg slit, the waist was perfectly fitted, and I had a single spaghetti strap on my shoulder in a pentagonal shape, leaning left.

(Modest) the dress was to the floor, it had a medium with skirt—just puffy enough to look nice, but not like a ball gown. The dress had a good fit, and the sleeves went down to my wrists, in a triangle attached to my ring finger

(With head covering) my hair was wrapped in black silk, with subtle sparkles here and there

•

The whole room was buzzing with conversation, I had not realized just how many people would be here.

I noticed many of my fellow teammates, as I looked around the crowded room.

I quickly walked to the open bar and ordered a glass of champagne. (Or sparkling cider if you don’t drink alcohol)

I stayed by the bar, having no idea where I should be. I felt incredibly overwhelmed and lost. I was an avenger, I should not be scared of a bunch of rich people.

I tried to look like I knew what I was as doing. I pretended to have a plan, I walked to the buffet with purpose even though I was panicking.

I felt like multiple eyes were on me but I couldn’t see anyone obviously staring.

“Hello, I’m Richard… you?” An older man said to me with a smile, if it wasn’t for his obvious stares at my boobs I would believe him to be sincere.

“I’m y/n.” I said hesitantly

“It’s a pleasure y/n. Would you care to dance? This is a favorite of mine.” He said awfully good at charming people into ignoring his obvious intentions.

“I’m not sure—“ before I could finish he had grabbed me and started dancing with me. I was absolutely disgusted but I played it off like I thought it was funny

The night filled with men of all ages talking to me while i tired to politely hint that I wasn’t interested due to the fact that I was gay as fuck.

None of them got the hint, but then again, it’s not like men are well known for listening when you say no.

Eventually I escaped the carousel of men asking me to dance and complimenting my body.

I saw Natasha staring at me, looking slightly agitated, from across the room.

I tried to ignore it and went to the other side of the bar, to avoid her presence.

“So.” She said appearing beside me, “you seemed to get a lot of attention tonight. Looking for something with deep pockets?”

I looked at her, completely insulted by the insinuation.

“Excuse me?” I said, finally gaining soon courage, “that out there, was not at all what I came here to do. Way to victim blame though. I’m glad that without even speaking to me you managed to decide I was a gold digger.”

I took a shot of vodka (or not) and stormed out the exit. I called a cab and went back to the compound immediately. I was so pissed off. I never did anything to her.

She had no right to speak to me like that.

Once I got inside I went to my bedroom and changed into athletic clothes.

I went down to the gym, and I started running, when the running stopped helping, I hit the punching bag.

I knew my fists would be red and cracked tomorrow but I couldn’t stop my fists from colliding with the bag; I was semi-addicted to the sense of relief I felt with my hands hit the bag.

“Y/n.” A voice called.

It was Natasha. I ignored her.

“Y/n.” She said, more firmly this time.

I still ignored her

“Y/n!” She snapped, grabbing the bag and holding it in place.

“What?” I said, my eyes burning with rage.

“Look, I’m sorry I said that-“

“No you aren’t!” I said

“Yes I am.” She continued, “just hear me out?”

“Fine.” I said still angry.

“I shouldn’t have said those things. It was wrong. I had no right. My behavior towards you has been completely uncalled for and unprofessional.” She said, looking guilty.

“Then why did you do it? What did I do to you?”

“Nothing! I was jealous.”

“I’m sure you could flirt circles around me, if you want to date any dude you want, that’s fine with me. I’m gay. So I wasn’t flirting at all tonight.”

“No— y/n. I was jealous, but not of you, of them. I didn’t want anyone to flirt with you. And I didn’t want you to get hurt on missions, but I can’t be around you without wanting to push you up against the wall.”

“Oh.” I said completely speechless.

“I know it’s unprofessional, and I plan to have us separated in the future, I’m sorry if this made you uncomfortable, I will stay away from you.”

“No- Natasha, wait.” I said, “I like you too, I just thought you hated my guts.”

“Oh my god I’m sorry. I just couldn’t be around you without feeling all mushy.”

“It’s okay…” I said smirking, “so… what was that about pushing me up against the wall?”

[itspufflehuff]

Spidey - Sebastian Stan x Holland!Reader

Summary: Being Tom Holland’s twin sister isn't all that bad. You each live your own lives and have your own successes. You don’t get to visit Tom on set much but when you finally make it to Comic Con will there be a special someone there for you to meet?

Hi! This is my first post in here so please let me know what you think! If you ever have suggestions or you find a mistake in my writing feel free to message me. Thank you and enjoy!

MATERLIST // TAGLIST

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | 

Word Count: 2,840

~~~~

Being Tom's twin wasn't as intimidating as people expected.

Sure he was Spider-Man but you still had your own success. Tom went for the big screen but you went for the big stage, Broadway.

You started with local shows, then you went on to be ensemble on West End. Soon you became an understudy for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It wasn't too long until you got the lead as Elphaba in the West End production of Wicked. With the attention you got as Elphaba you were scouted to audition for Broadway.

Seemingly around the same time Tom's fame skyrocketed so did yours. You two were so proud and happy for the other.

You decided to move out to New York seeing as how you were performing eight times a week.

Tom was your best friend so after every show, he called to ask how it went and to update you on his Spider-Man shenanigans.

The years came and went. You were still going strong on Broadway taking up different roles and Tom was still Spider-Man. He always talked about how fun it was being apart of the Marvel cast. You had still yet to meet anyone besides his Spider-Man co-stars like Zendaya and Jacob. Whenever they were doing a press event with the entire Marvel cast you were busy doing a show. Then one day you got a call to play Spider-Gwen.

You were so shocked when you got the call. You happened to be in your dressing room getting ready for a rehearsal. You sat there shocked, "Spider-Gwen?"

"Yes! Sony is making an animated Spider-Man and they think you would be perfect as Spider-Gwen. You wouldn't have to leave New York too long, just for some auditions. If you get the part you can do your recordings there."

"I don't know what to say." You were shocked. This is amazing! Imagine Tom's face when he finds out you're Spider-Man, well kind of.

"Say yes!"

"Yes!!"

~~~~

This was your first time attending Comic-Con. You never had a purpose to go before or even time. Now that you're apart of the Into the Spider-Verse cast you were attending so many different types of events you never did before. It was quite fun.

"Tom!" You shouted as soon as you saw him. You were in the middle of an interview but you didn't care. You hadn't seen your brother in ages. Tom laughed and walked over to you.

You two hugged and the interviewer spoke, "Our two favorite Spideys! Tom, how are you? What do you think of Y/N being Spider-Gwen?"

He laughed, "I'm doing well, I think it's great we have another Spider-Man in the family! But just so everyone knows I am the better Spidey." Everyone laughed.

"Sure you are." You playfully rolled your eyes.

"You're just a cartoon, I actually have to do flips and stuff," Tom argued.

You let out a 'pfft' before you spoke, "I could do the same things you can, you're not that special Tom."

"Alright, let's see it then!" He challenged.

"What? Right now?"

"Yes right now, come on let's go."

"Tom, I'm in heels."

He playfully rolled his eyes, "Heels aren't even that hard to jump around in, Y/N."

You looked to the interviewer who watched you twins bicker, "He did one dance wearing heels and he thinks he's amazing," turning to your brother you continued, "Newsflash Tommy I do that eight times a week."

The interviewer let out an 'ooo' as if you got him good. Everyone laughed as the interview wrapped up, "Well thank you for your time Y/N and thank you for joining Tom."

"Come on I want you to finally meet everyone." Tom grabbed your arm and pulled you along.

He basically ran through the crowd dragging you along behind him. When you finally got to where the rest of the Marvel cast was you and Tom were immediately surrounded by interviewers before you got to meet anyone.

Knowing neither of you were going to get through without at least one interview you both gave up trying to get by and stopped for an interview, "The Holland twins it's so amazing to see you both here today! How are you both?"

You answered first, "Thank you, I'm so excited to be here this is my first time so I'm a little nervous."

"Don't be nervous sis, just watch the pro." He smugly adjusted the jacket he had on.

You laughed and rolled your eyes as the interviewer asked another question, "Has there been any sibling rivalry now that both of have taken on the role of Spider-Man?"

You both looked at each other then Tom spoke, "You know what I was never mad because I know she's trying to be like her big brother which is flattering really."

You didn't notice before but next to Tom a couple of his castmates were doing an interview as well. The only reason you noticed them was because one of them came up to Tom and said, "Seriously Tom keep it down! Man, dude can't even do an interview without being a diva." You recognized him right away Anthony Mackie and next to him Sebastian Stan. Both you and Sebastian laughed at Anthony's obvious joke.

Tom looked down slightly embarrassed as he was trying to act smug before your interview was interrupted. "Y/N were you intimidated to take on Spider-Gwen knowing your brother was Spider-Man?"

"Umm, not really." you laughed, "I was actually really excited and thought it would funny to take on the role. I'm sure the casting directors thought the same thing."

The interviewer nodded, "Has there been a time where you two fought to prove who the better Spider-Man is?"

Before Tom could answer you did, "Well just a few minutes ago Tom tried to have a competition between us to see who was better at doing flips."

The three of you laughed, "And did you?"

"No, of course not! It is way too crowded in here and I'm in heels. I'm used to dancing in them not doing stunts. Maybe we can have that competition another time." You suggested to Tom.

He smiled mischievously, "You're on. May the best Spidey win." He held his hand out which you took. You both shook hands in front of the camera closing the deal to have a competition soon.

You didn't know this at the time but Sebastian couldn't take his eyes off of you for the rest of his interview. He knew who you were but never got the chance to meet you in person. Now seeing you several feet ahead of him he couldn't look away. You were more beautiful in person and your smile was radiating. Even after his interview ended he stood to the side watching you.

His eyes followed you as you smiled and waved to the interviewer. You were headed his way, quickly he turned and engulfed himself into a conversation with Chris Hemsworth.

Tom began introducing you to everyone as his little sister. He was only seven minutes older and always treated you like a kid for it. You were most excited to meet Robert Downey Jr. seeing as how he and Tom were so close. You two hit it off right away, he treated you like you were apart of the family.

You made your way down the line, meeting each member of the Marvel cast. You finally made it to Chris Hemsworth, Anthony, and Sebastian, "Hey guys I want you to finally meet my little sister, Y/N."

They all looked to you at you, well more like down at you. They were all so tall towering over.

Thank God I wore heels today.

"Pleasure to meet you," Chris grabbed your hand.

"Finally the famous Y/N! Now tell me was Tom always such a diva or is it just because he's Spider-Man that he's acting like a big shot?" Anthony asked.

You and Tom laughed. He did tell you about how he and Sebastian always teased him.

"Yeah and what about that juice obsession? Like, come on man you're too old for that." Sebastian joined in.

You looked to him and laughed, "You know what I've been telling him the same thing like come on Tom we're in our 20s and you're still hooked on juice like it's you're only will to live." You joked along and turned to Anthony, "As for the diva attitude he's always been this way like we get it you were Billy Elliot get over it!" Everyone laughed as Tom stood there pretending to look offended.

"Well, at least I never went out on stage looking like the green goblin!" He fought back.

"Hey! Elphaba is a very complex and demanding character. You're just jealous you don't have half the talent I do."

"Oh puh-lease, I totally do. Tell me who was it that taught you to dance?"

"Ok fine you have that but acting and singing was all me! All you can do is act and dance. I'm a triple threat."

That shut him up as everyone laughed at him, "I like this one." Anthony said. He reached out to shake your hand which you gladly accepted. He moved to the side, Sebastian happily took over his spot in front of you.

He reached out to shake your hand and when you grabbed it he pulled you in closer, "Just so you know you're my favorite Spidey." He whispered into your ear. A smile arose onto your lips as you pulled away, "Thank you."

"May I also add I think you have a beautiful voice, I want to one of your shows but wasn't able to catch you after the show."

A blush crept up to your face, "Thank you, again." A nervous laugh escaped, "I would've loved to have met you then. Sometimes I escape through the side exits. I love my job but I don't always love the crowds."

"I know what you mean, sometimes after movie premieres, I sneak out through the employee exit just to get away from the crowds."

Neither of you noticed but you were still holding onto each other's hand. It wasn't until Hemsworth cleared his throat beside you two, "Sorry to interrupt but we're heading to the panel room."

You both looked at him and quickly let go of each other's hands. "I'll meet you guys over there." Sebastian nodded to him. Chris looked over to the both of you, "Ok, well once again it was nice to meet you Y/N. I hope to see you soon." He gave you one last smile and walked away. You turned back to Sebastian. He spoke before you did, "I'd love to see you again late."

"Yeah, I'd love that too. I have a panel in twenty minutes. I was going to meet my brother after and join you all for the rest of the day, maybe we can talk more then." You smiled at him.

"Great, I'll see you then." He grabbed your hand gently, pulled it up to his lips, and placed a kiss there. He walked away to where his castmates went leaving you standing there with your heart beating fast.

You meet up with your cast and took photos with fans. Sebastian took up all of the thoughts in your head. You tried to focus on what was happening but your mind wandered off the feel of his lips on your had and how his eyes looked so deeply into yours.

Surprisingly enough your panel flew by. You were able to get Sebastian out of your head and get lost in hanging out with your cast as you answered fan questions. By the end, you walked out the door to see Tom waiting for you talking to some fans.

"Excuse me, I've got to go. It was nice meeting you all!" Tom excused himself from the group and walked towards you. "Ready to go?" He put his arm around your shoulder.

"Let's go." You said with a bit of excitement and nervousness.

Tom didn't notice, however. "So how many of your questions were about me?"

You were lost in thought once again unable to get Sebastian out of your mind, "Huh?"

"I got so many questions about the new Spider-Man in the Holland household." He chuckled.

Finally understanding him you laughed along, "Oh, yeah, I lost count after five. Someone asked about our rivalry so I started a rumor that we haven't spoken in months and I am actively hiding from you during this event."

Tom laughed, "Lucky for you, Mackie and Sebastian started a rumor that I'm a diva at home, so you're scared to be near me."

You laughed louder than you expected, "What?"

"Yes! They asked me about you and Mackie joined in saying you met everyone earlier and told them I've always been a diva. And of course, Sebastian had to join in," He imitated their American accent, "Poor girl looked terrified to be around him."

You both laughed as you walked into the room where the rest of the Marvel cast was.

The moment you walked in Sebastian's stomach flipped, in a good way. You were laughing when you walked in. It was the most amazing laugh he heard, he wanted to able to keep making you laugh like that. He watched as you walked around the room greeting everyone. You stopped at RDJ and Chris Evans. You all talked, but you were too far for Sebastian to hear what about. He saw you smiling from where he was at and he loved it. He excused himself from his friends and made his way to you.

"So, Y/N, what's it like to perform on stage like that? I mean it's all live and you have so much to remember, lines, songs, choreography, blocking." Evans sighed as if the thought of it made him exhausted, "I mean it's incredible."

"It was hard at first but this is my life. I love going up there each night. Sometimes we make mistakes but as long as you don't let the audience know it was a mistake then it doesn't matter. Plus we get to improve sometimes or make scenes better each night by seeing how the audience reacts."

He watched you talk about your work. The way your eyes lit up he could tell you really did love your job. Of course, he already knew that though. When he saw your performance as Eurydice in Hadestown. You had just happened to be there that night as the understudy, but he was glad to see it was you. He recognized you from the pictures on Tom's phone. He knew you were an actress on broadway so when he saw you he knew it was you. He fell in love with your performance that night. Your voice was so beautiful and the emotions you gave were so raw. Your energy was incredible it was as if you fell into the character.

"You should see her perform," He chimed into the conversation making his presence known.

Everyone turned to him, "I never did ask, which show did you see?" You tilted your head.

"Hadestown."

You broke out into a smile, "I know exactly which performance. You know that was the only time I played Eurydice?"

"Really?" His head hung in disbelief. From that performance, he would've been fooled to think you played that character a million times over, "Well you were incredible if I'd known you would be playing the lead I would've told Tom to set us up to meet."

You both smiled at each other for a moment before Tom spoke,  "Yeah, that's my sister. I don't like to admit it but she's an amazing actress. Maybe even better than me."

"Maybe? More like definitely." You challenged.

"What show were you working on before coming here?" RDJ asked.

"I was doing an off-broadway production of Mamma Mia. I let my understudy take my place so I could tour and do some promoting for Spider-Verse."

Tom excused himself so he could talk with some of his other castmates. Slowly RDJ and Evans left the conversation leaving you and Sebastian.

"You know I live out in New York as well," Sebastian said casually.

"Really? I just assumed all you movie stars lived out in LA."

"Heck no! I'm a New Yorker. I love it there" He smiled looking at you.

"Maybe we can meet up there someday, now that we're acquainted and all." You suggested nervously.

"Yeah, that would be great. Which part of New York are you in?"

"Ironically Midtown," you laughed. It took him a second but he got it, "Ah yes Spider-Man goes to Midtown." He dropped his head with a chuckle.

"38th and sixth." You clarified. He looked up with eyes wide, "You're kidding? I live on 43rd and ninth! That's like ten minutes away from me." You both stood there in disbelief.

"All of these coincidences, you would think we'd met by now."

He laughed, "Well, we have now. I'd like to keep meeting. If that's ok with you?"

You looked up at him smiling, "I'd love that."

[wearehuman-after-all]

Society article about Daft Punk 29th July 2021 part.3 - Translated

On the shelves, only a few knick-knacks bring to mind the identity of the tenants: robot figurines and life sized helmets. If Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo only goes to Los Angeles occasionally, the headquarters of Daft Arts are occupied everyday by two persons who are probably the only two who are aware of all the secrets of their story. Paul Hahn,first, American manager who handles the group’s current affairs, the contracts, the royalties, the dollars. Cédric Hervet, then, a close friend since the high school years in Paris, the creativity right-hand man to whom we owe the group’s visual explosions, and whom some even call “the 3rd Daft Punk” as to signify how close he is with Thomas and Guy-Man. In the last push before the big night of the Grammy Awards, Daft Punk come to say hi to their faithful colleagues in the Sunset and La Brea offices before an ultimate rehearsal in a discreet studio of Burbank, a Los Angeles suburb. Nile Rodgers and Pharrell Williams are here, as well as all the instrumentalists who accompanied them during the recording of RAM. Big names to whom they [Daft Punk] asked them, in a previously unseen exercise, to repeat a line of loops imagined as they went along. “The genius of Daft Punk was to perfectly handle the unpredictability of this process. They left some room so that God could come into the room”, pictures the drummer Omar Hakim, partner for Michael Jackson for a long time. Stevie Wonder sent an understudy who was able to copy his soaring in front of a microphone not to damage his powerful voice. A few days before, the legend had animated with a little bit too much of enthusiasm the party organized in the White House for Michelle Obama’s birthday party, and nearly cancelled his participation at the last minute.

26thJanuary 2014, in the evening. Wearing white suits tailor-made and helmets specially made by a Hollywood studio, Daft Punk are going to the Staples Center in a limousine sent by the Grammy Awards Academy. In the dressing room where they had taken place, the families and friends shudder when the show of their favorites start to wobble even before the start. Meanwhile on the television, the ads are shown, on the stage, the technicians are unable to make the neon lights part of the decor work, a long structure imitating a recording studio in the time of Motown and Stax Records. During the rehearsals there already had been some hitches: technical problems and a part of the de'cor that had been put up in the wrong way. The ads will only last for a few more seconds now but the light still won’t come on. A little bit more and Daft Punk will end up playing in the darkness for their great comeback. “It was total panic. And then as if it was a miracle, right before the show continued, the lights came back on. Amazing!” replays DJ Falcon. Even if behind his keyboard, Stevie Wonder has some muttered quavers in his voice which give his recent excess away, Get Lucky and the few other tracks played immediately after in a medley are a complete recital. The rest unfolds the same way: Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo make a clean sweep at the ceremony and win all the prices they were in the competition for. “Before receiving the best album award, Daft Punk first hugged each other so that the collaborators of the disc had time to all gather up on the stage. What an elegant thing to do” tells again DJ Falcon, co-producer of Contact, 13th and last song of RAM. All there is left to do is to enjoy a night in weightlessness. At the Park Plaza Hotel in Los Angeles, the Grammy’s board organized a big party of which Daft Punk are the kings. On a high platform, DJ Falcon and Todd Edwards are playing the DJs, while an audience of five-stars personalities stroll down there, along the different bars. Madonna and Stevie Nicks, the Fleetwood Mac singer, are passing by. On the dance floor, of which the phosphorescent tiles reminds us of the film Saturday Night Fever, an old man is dancing like a dislocated puppet: Paul McCartney. While Thomas and Guy-Man are chatting with friends, Jay-Z and Beyoncé are waiting patiently to congratulate them. Years earlier, the rapper had invited Daft Punk in the backstage of a concert he did in Bercy and had then collaborated with them on a track for the original soundtrack of the film TRON, which ended up being released on the sly. In the ears of the two French and their friends, Jay-Z whispers that he had always been dreaming of making a whole album with them. “It was strange and funny at the same time, surrealist”, tries to explain Peter Franco. A little bit amused and also a little bit moved by what was happening around them, without their helmets among idols who themselves treated them as idols, Daft Punk permanently changed their dimension that night. Later, in the Los Angeles airport, sunglasses on their nose, the duo is followed closely by the powerful lenses of the paparazzi, like any other music celebrities. “We could see them from 100 meters away with their material. They were everywhere, as if water suddenly entered into the Daft Punk boat” tells DJ Falcon.

***

Without any surprise, the raid carried by Daft Punk at the Grammy Awards whet the appetites. Every sponsor around the world dreams of associating with Daft Punk. Ads, original soundtrack, merch: the collaboration offers are coming from everywhere. And the concerned party send each one of them packing with the same coldness. “The guys are absolutely not sellouts, thinks Antoine Ressaussière. They could be very wealthy, but they spend the majority of their money into their music.” Years before, an important automobile constructor had already reached out the group to ask them to use one of their songs for its new television commercials. In exchange: a 500 000 dollars check. Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo had immediately refused the deal, shrugging. “He said: ‘Does that pollute? That sucks, we say no’. It didn’t interest him in any way. He didn’t care about what we could say.” continues Antoine Ressaussière. The same way, Daft Punk apparently sent the Disney directors packing when they wanted the put the name of the group on one of their rides in their park at all cost. Daft Punk have in fact their mind set on challenges that are way more important: the eventuality of a tour. Seven years after the amazing sound and light of Alive, which one says settled the foundations of what should be a electronic music show nowadays, it is about staging the vintage symbiosis of RAM, with its 1001 tiny orchestral details. “One day I got a phone call from their manager, asking me if I would be interested in doing a tour” remembers the drummer Omar Hakim. Well of course!” The guitarist Paul Jackson Jr., another studio collaborator of the group is contacted. “They were looking for a crazy amount of money to put up the project” he remembers. Sadly, the matter did not go any further. “I think that Thomas did a lot of researches at that time and that he dug up every new technologies, including the possibility of using holograms, clarifies Antoine Ressaussière. Nothing had been left out, but Daft Punk did not find any technical solution and did not go on tour.”

What happens next is in Paris again, where the band meet on top of the Tour France a winter evening of 2014. A few friends crossed the Parisian ring road to celebrate “as a family” Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo’s 40th birthday: there are the friends from Air, Phoenix, Gildas Loaëc, nowadays the boss of the Kistuné brand, but also Pedro Winter, Gaspar Noé or Kavinsky. From everyone here, the main person of the day is probably the one who is, in his mind, the farthest away from the recording studio. One of his friends had just finished producing the film Les Portes du Soleil, which the casting shows a duo of celebrity who fell into obsolescence: Smaïn and Lorie. An improbable action film about a reformation of OAS [secret organization of the army], secret agents and organized crime. The film director Jean-Marc Minéo even managed to get a scene with the legend Mike Tyson. Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo accepted to offer the film a new track, composed by Eric Chédeville. This doesn’t look like the tactical moves of a pop star of his reputation, but more like a friendly act towards the film director, whom the Daft Punk had known for a few years now. “That is Guy-Man. He accepted this project because he is sincere. He didn’t realize that he was a Daft Punk”, confirms Eric Chédeville. Minéo, kung-fu world champion in the 80s then stunt double for Johnny Hallyday in the 90s, became a friend of the band when he came to complain about the noise which escaped from the recording studio right in front of his flat on the Durantin street, in the heights of Montmartre. Very far away from the electronic music , he had truly understood who became Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo and Thomas Bangalter only in 2007, when the two musicians invited him to one of their concerts, in Bercy. Before that, they had never mentioned the name of their group in front of him. This is the sign that it’s more the martial arts which tie them together. Especially Guy-Manuel. “I think that one day he even went to take lessons from a shaolin monk in New York, says Jean-Marc Minéo. We did kung-fu together for 10 years, 3 times a week. We didn’t stroke each other. He’s a real player, he could do a fight without any problems. Guy-Manuel is born a puncher. If he hits you, he’d knock you out.” At the time of Les Portes du Soleil film, the Daft Punk would have loved to spend some time with Mike Tyson but the meeting did not happen. At some point, he also had the ambition to make Tyler The Creator rap on this track, but this did not happen either. Anyway, this collaboration remains for him a feeling of free breath, away from the charts, from money and reputation matters.

In his solo career, Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo generally follows however the same path as with his group: he refuses any collaboration offers. Even if we demand him without stopping since he offered his producer services, with Eric Chédeville, to Sébastien Tellier, in 2008, on the torrid Sexuality. In the offices of the record companies, his name is evoked as soon as it is about adding a touch of “neo-disco” to a French variety album with a substantial budget. Only Charlotte Gainsbourg managed to get a “yes” from the Daft Punk. One day Eric Chédeville gets a phone call from the singer’s label. He answers that he doesn’t think that his friend would be interested, but the concerned party interrupts him against all odds to tell him that he is interested. Produced at the Tour France with Chédevile, the result was Rest, 3min38 which appear on the album bearing the same name, released in 2017. It is also in the Tour France that appear, one day of march 2014, the ultimate Daft Punk’s success. “Guy-Man is an amazing artistic director. The one you never meet, who doesn’t exist because he’s so good, tells Chédeville. He can stays in the recording studio for hours until we can hear him say in a faint voice: ‘Not bad, the two last chords’. And at that point you are 2000% sure that it’s good. It’s his genius, adding to the fact that he’s hyper creative and very talented to make rhythmic which groove a lot.” It’s exactly what happens that day. Sitting in front of his synthesizer, on a low chair, Eric does one random chord after another depending on how he felt. Until that at the other side of the room, jiggling on a rolling chair, Guy-Manuel, long lock and a tight polo shirt, stops abruptly: “That’s not bad.” Coupled with a rhythmic composed by the Daft Punk, the loop becomes a one minute first draft saved as the name Rosae in Chédeville’s computer. In a contract signed recently under the name Daft Arts, it gives the authorization to Guy-Manuel to use every loop composed together these last times, in exchange of royalties.

[johnkrrasinski]

having an affair with dad’s best friend!bucky

full masterlist

Warning: implied smut, age gap, mentions of death, a tiny bit of angst.

Summary: moving to a small town was hell but who would’ve thought that it would bring you heaven?    

You recently just moved to the small town from the big city. Being a city girl and having your superficial needs constantly fulfilled, moving to this small town makes you feel isolated and bored constantly. You were used to living in a big house and going to NYC’s best private school due to your parents’ fortune, but because your grandmother was ill, your parents decided that they had to move back home to be closer to your grandma to watch over her.

Your parents held a barbecue party in their backyard and invited some of their old friends. At least the one who still lived in that godforsaken town. You planned to stay in your bedroom the whole time because you couldn’t care less about interacting with your parents’ old mates, but they forced you to join and so you did, and that’s whet you met him.

Your dad introduced you to one of his old mates. They were best mates in high school. 

 “Hey there, the name’s Bucky.” He smiled flirtatiously.

Holy shit. 

You tried to hold your composure but you were internally starstruck. The man was gorgeous.

It turns out that you were neighbours. He lived right next to you and that’s why he and your dad were so close, they practically grew up together. 

One time, you were hanging out at the local diner with your new friends and you had to leave since it was nearing your curfew. The diner wasn’t that far from your house so you walked. 

 Although it caused a lot of whining out of you, having used to being driven to everywhere.

The crisp autumn air made you tuck your hands into your pocket as you walked home. 

Then you heard a honking sound as a car pulled up on the road.

“Hey, y/n, right?” 

It was Bucky, he had a smile on his face as his window was opened.  

He offered you a ride and he was on his way home himself. You were a bit reluctant at first but eventually, you got in. 

You had a small talk on the way to home. He spoke about your dad, this town, and asked you about school. He wasn’t shy when dropping a few flirtatious comments though.

“Well, with a face like yours, I’m sure the boys would treat you nicely.”  

“You’d know about that, don't you Mr. Barnes?” 

“Just call me Bucky, sweetheart.” He winked.

You had to control your breathing so that he wouldn’t notice the way it changed when he did that. 

He dropped you right in front of your house and said goodbye. He waited until you were inside to park his car in his garage. You dreamt of him that night, and not exactly an innocent one.

Days turned into months, and every time you saw each other, you got a little bit bolder. You’d sneak around to come over to his place and have a ton of hot and heavy sex.

To say he was good in bed was an understatement. He was a god. He knew how to work your body inside out, how to pleasure you and how to get you off in the precise moment.

  One time you were lying in bed, basking in the afterglow of your fourth round that day and you coquettishly asked, “would you fuck me against that window?”

“As much as I’d love to show the whole town that you’re mind, I wouldn’t wanna risk giving your dad a heart attack, princess.” 

To compensate it, he fucked you in the bathroom, against a shower glass door that night. 

As carnal as your relationship was, you’d often talk about sentimental things too. Such as his past and how his father left when he was only six years old. His mother had to raise him and his little sister, Rebecca on her own. How Winnifred’s death three years ago still affected him to this day. And how he’d text his sister every day who was studying abroad to London to be a photographer. 

You would often talk about your relationship too and where it was going. Could you make it? How’d you tell your parents about it? What would happen when you go to college and leave town? The conversations would often stretch for hours and you’d have to tiptoe your way into the house to make sure you don’t wake your parents up. 

Even after spending hours with him and living next to each other, you still texted each other goodnight before you went to sleep. You dreamt of him again that night. You always dreamt of him. 

You were in your last year of high school and you had been occupied with a lot of things; college applications, SAT, final exams, earning credits, prom, etc. Your mind was all over the place, and on top of that, you began to feel like Bucky was slowly drifting apart.

You didn’t blame him though. Every time Bucky would ask you to come over or when your parents were out of town for business matters, Bucky would ask you if he could come over to your house, you’d often ignore his texts or calls. Or when you do answer, you’d always say you were busy or not today. When you did have time to talk to him, you were already fatigued with homework and studying to get into your dream school. 

Nate, who was a popular jock in your school asked you to be his date to prom and it wasn’t like you had a boyfriend you could publicly hold hands to prom with so eventually you had to choose one guy to be your date, and you had already rejected five guys.

Bucky knew about it and he wasn’t too happy with it. He didn’t like the idea of another man, especially one whom he viewed as if he was his understudy, touching you, holding you and dancing with you. You tried to convince him that you were only friends and that he was only going to be your prom date. Nothing more, but he still stormed out in tantrum like a child.

It had been weeks since you last talked to each other and you missed him terribly. Every time you ran into each other before you leave for school and he was leaving for work, you’d wave at him and try to greet him, but he’d always avoid eye contact with you and pretend that you weren't there at all.

You texted him to meet you in this secluded park, one that you and Bucky used to go on dates with. Bucky showed you this place and now it has become a spot of your clandestine meetings. You didn’t know if he was going to show up at all. He didn’t even reply to your text, but you still waited for him and hoped that he’d be there. You refused to believe that you two were completely done. You cared about each other too much for your story to end over juvenile things.

He was fifteen minutes late and you were losing faith. You were ready to head back home when you heard the familiar revving of his engine. He wore a black jacket and a grey shirt with blue faded underneath and he looked so damn good. Sometimes you couldn’t believe that this magnetic force of a man was yours. You were hoping that he was still yours.

“Let’s go for a walk, yeah?” 

You started with small talks that turned into a deeper, warmer conversation. There was a lot of unspoken words between the two of you and you wanted nothing more to apologize but what the hell would you be sorry for? You didn’t do anything wrong.

Bucky was the first one to apologize and he admitted that his jealousy was rational and that he had missed you so badly. 

You stopped at a small bridge of the park and that’s when the unresolved issue that you both had dreaded came up again.

“We still haven’t figured out how we’re going to maintain a long-distance relationship, have we?” Bucky stopped in the middle of the pathway and leaned against the barrel of the bridge, with his arms crossing in front of his chest and his face contorted into a dejected one. 

“That’s actually what I’m here to talk to you about…” You took a deep breath, fearing that what you were about to say would only cause a further clash between the two of you. “What if you just… Leave this town and come with me to New York? You can find a new job and we can leave in my apartment and we can finally live together. Away from my parents, away from this town. We can be whoever we wanna be. We can be together.” 

Bucky pondered at what you just said. He never thought about leaving this town. This town was all he knew. His ma raised him and Rebecca in that house and left him with it when she died. But you made him realize that there’s more to life than this small town and that he didn’t have to fear of change as long as he had you. And there was no one else he’d rather be with than you. 

His silence stifled you. You took his lack of words as an objection but it was the opposite. He grabbed your face and kissed that nervous frown out of your face. You looked so adorable but he liked it better when you were smiling.    

“New York doesn’t sound like the worst idea.” 

“Does this mean you will-” You grinned.  

“Yes, I’m gonna follow you wherever you go. Everyone’s gotta choose their own path, and you are my path.”