#cheap flights contact number

[lvnleah]

Secret Transfers | Lia Wälti

Based on this request :)

Summary: you and Lia have been dating for five years and Arsenal put in an offer for you. You accept it but keep it all a secret from Lia.

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You were sitting on your balcony in Barcelona, a thin blanket was draped over your legs as you read your emails from your agent. Your contract with Barcelona was soon up and as much as you loved the club, you felt it was time for a new challenge.

You’d been with Barca for two seasons now and you’d won the league with them twice as well as the champions league.

Being from England, you wanted to go back to the WSL for many reasons, one being so you could be closer to your family but also your Girlfriend, Lia. Another was that the WSL was where you’d started off and you wanted to return there.

You’d been with Lia for five years and for all of them five years you’d been long distance. When you began dating you were with Lyon, living in France, and Lia had just moved to Arsenal.

For the first two years you’d take quick and cheap flights back and forth from France to England and Lia would do the same.

Then, Lyon let you go and Barcelona soon snapped you up. They offered you a two year deal and you were quick to accept it, Barca was a club you’d longed to play for and you finally were given your chance.

So in January 2022, you packed your bags and moved to Barcelona. Ever since then, you’d been living on cloud nine. Lia was at every game she could be at, even with the long distance and packed schedules, you and Lia always seemed to make things work.

Now, your contract with Barca was coming up for renewal and you didn’t want to stay. As you scrolled through your agent's long email, you read all of the different clubs that had put in an offer for you and what they were offering.

Man City had offered you a three year deal for £95k a year, Man United had offered you a year contract for £91k a year, Chelsea had offered you a two year contract for £94k a year. A few other WSL clubs, as well as some clubs in Europe, were listed but none stuck out except from the very last one.

Arsenal. £400k over three years, £133k a year. It was more than what you were earning at Barca.

The offer echoed in your mind. The club where Lia, your girlfriend of four years, played. The club that would bring you together, finally bridging the gap that had stretched across Europe for far too long.

You knew you’d be dumb to turn it down.

You instantly reached for your phone and dialled your agent’s number. It rang a few times before your agent, Sarah, picked up.

“Y/N!” She said cheerfully, “have you looked over my email yet? Some of the offers are good ones and—”

You cut her off. “I’ll take it, the Arsenal contract, I’ll take it.”

“You don’t want to think about it? Discuss it with anyone?” She questioned, “Chelsea and Man City are good ones too.”

“No,” you said firmly. “I’ve thought about it enough. This is my chance to be with Lia, to play alongside her, and be with my family in London. I can’t let it slip away.”

“Alright, then. I’ll finalise the paperwork.” She agreed, “I’ll get in contact with Arsenal and arrange flights for you to fly over and get a medical. I’ll start looking into houses for you too, any preferences?”

You shook your head, “it’s okay, Sarah. I’ll probably move in with Lia.”

You ended your call with Sarah before climbing into your bed. Excitement filled you like a child, you were finally going to be closer to Lia and your family. And maybe, just maybe, for the first time in five years you could finally live with Lia.

Whilst you were scrolling through TikTok, your phone rang and Lia’s contact filled your phone screen. You instantly picked up, last minute deciding to keep your transfer a secret from Lia.

“Hi my love!” She greeted as she laid in her own bed, “I miss you so much, how’s your day been?”

“I miss you too, it’s been great,” you smiled, “I looked through a few offers from WSL clubs.”

Lia’s face lit up, “and? How did it go? Any you’re interested in?”

You shook your head and sighed, “not really, love. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something soon,” Lia reassured you, “if not we’ll make things work with you staying in Barca, we always do.”

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. You had many video calls with Jonas and his team at Arsenal, all of them promising not to utter a word to Lia. You needed a medical done so one day you flew into London and headed to the Arsenal training ground, luckily it was the day before Lia was playing Liverpool so she was travelling to her hotel with the team.

You passed your medical and officially signed the paperwork, you also managed to fit in some photos that would be used when your transfer was officially announced. A start date that was set for in two weeks was agreed meaning you had two weeks to pack up your life in Barcelona without Lia finding out.

That evening you got home late, your phone call with Lia was quick and short and you hoped that she didn’t suspect anything. The next week, you said goodbye to your teammates and had your last training session. All though you were excited to join Arsenal, you were sad to leave Barca behind.

One evening, as you packed up your flat in Barca, you phoned one of your best friends from Arsenal. You and Leah had always been close from a young age, you’d both met at an England camp when you were eighteen and had been inseparable ever since.

The phone rang for a few seconds before Leah’s face fitted the scream, “Please tell me you’ve got some news about your contract?”

“Well hello to you too, miss impatient,” you laughed. As well as Lia, Leah had been pestering you as well about your contract. “Maybe I have, maybe I don’t.”

“You’re such an annoying rat, you know that right?” Leah joked, pulling her hoodie’s hood up as she laid in her bed.

You sarcastically laughed, “Haha, do you want to know or not?”

“Go on then,” Leah sighed, “wait! Don’t tell me if you’re moving to Chelsea or even worse fucking Spurs because I’ve seen the rumours and if you–”

You cut her off, “Well good thing Arsenal put in an offer and I accepted it then.”

“Fuck off!” Leah smiled, “No fucking way! Are you serious?”

Flipping your camera round, you showed Leah your boxed up flat, “Well unless these boxes are for no reason then yeah, I am serious.”

“Does Lia know?”

You shook your head, biting your lip as you turned the camera back round, “no actually. I wanted it to be a surprise for her and I need you to help me.”

Leah's eyes widened, her excitement palpable through the screen. "This is incredible!" she exclaimed. "Arsenal, huh? You've always been wanted to be a Gunner. Lia's going to lose her mind when she finds out!"

You leaned back against the half-empty bookshelf, a mix of nerves and anticipation bubbling inside you. "Yeah, I thought it was time for a new challenge."

Leah's grin widened. "Alright, spill the plan. How do we surprise her?"

You glanced around your sparsely furnished flat. "I was thinking of flying back to London. You know, just show up unannounced. Maybe at training and I can catch her off guard."

Leah nodded. "Solid plan. We need some confetti and banners, maybe even balloons.”

You chuckled. "Confetti, banners and balloons? Leah, I’m not proposing!"

"Fine, fine," she relented. "But seriously, Lia's going to be over the moon."

You smiled, “Thanks, Le."

You and Leah spent the next few hours on FaceTime, you searched for flights before booking on for a few days' time. She also kept you company as you packed up your house and shared your excitement about how you couldn’t wait to be with Lia again.

A few days later, you boarded the plane to England after letting Arsenal know you’d be arriving. The anticipation bubbled inside you as you boarded the plane bound for London. You couldn’t wait to see Lia’s face when she realised you were actually there but a part of you was scared that she was going to be mad about you not telling her.

The airport terminal buzzed with travellers, and you clutched your boarding pass tightly. Your phone vibrated in your pocket, and when you glanced at the screen, Lia’s name lit up. You answered, heart racing.

“Hi my love,” Lia greeted, despite not being able to see her face you knew she was smiling, “What’re you up to?”

You quickly made up an excuse, “Oh I’m just doing a grocery shop!” You nervously laughed, praying the background noise wouldn’t give it away, “What’re you up to?”

“Just getting ready for training,” Lia said, “It’s a recovery training so it shouldn't be too tough.”

“That’s nice, darling,” You smiled, “Look, I’m going to have to go, I need to pay. Speak to you later, yeah?”

“Oh, okay,” you could hear the sadness in Lia’s voice, “I’ll talk to you later, love you.”

You smiled, “I love you too.”

The flight was uneventful, but your heart raced as the plane touched down at Heathrow. You collected your suitcases, weaving through the bustling airport. Leah had promised to meet you outside the arrivals gate, and you scanned the crowd eagerly.

You eyes soon found Leah, she was in a grey tracksuit with a baseball cap on. She jokingly held a sign that read ‘Welcome home rat!”

“Leah!” you exclaimed, hugging her tightly. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, superstar,” she teased. “Now spill! How’s it feel to be an official Gunner?”

You laughed. “Surreal but I can’t wait to surprise Lia. Is she training?”

Leah nodded. “Yep, she’s already there. Let’s go!”

You and Leah drove to the Arsenal training centre, it wasn’t a long drive but it gave you and Leah a chance to catch up before the chaos of moving in with Lia began.

As you pull up Leah turned to you, “So the girls know, I told them this morning. Is that okay?”

You nodded, “Yep, as long as no one told Lia that that’s fine!”

As you and Leah made your way inside, you bumped into Beth and Viv in the hallway who were just making their way in.

“Oh my gosh!” Beth squealed, pulling you into a hug, “I can’t believe you’re here! Lia is going to freak!”

You laughed, hugging Beth tightly, “I missed you so much!” You let go of Beth before hugging Viv, “You both okay?”

Viv nodded, “We’re doing good, it’ll be nice to have you around. How’re you feeling about being close to Lia?”

“It’s honestly amazing,” you sighed, “I can’t wait to be close again.”

You, Leah, Beth and Viv made your way down to the changing rooms. The team had just had their lunch so were getting ready to go back out on the pitch, Beth was in charge of capturing the moment.

“You alright?” Leah said to Lia, distracting her as she walked into the room.

Before Lia had the chance to reply, you followed in behind Leah and stood beside her.

Lia quickly glanced at you before talking to Leah, “I’m good,” she looked back at you again, registering that you were there, “Holy fuck! What the fuck? Oh my god!”

“Y/N?” she breathed, dropping her left boot. “What are you doing here?”

You grinned, pulling her into a hug. “Surprise!”

Lia’s arms wrapped around you, and you held her close. “You’re really here,” she murmured. “I thought you were still in Barcelona.”

“I was,” you said, pulling back to look into her eyes. “But Arsenal made an offer, and I accepted. I’m officially a Gunner.”

“Wait, seriously?” she stammered. “Arsenal? You’re joining the Gunners?”

You nodded, unable to contain your own excitement. “Yeah, Lia. It’s official.”

She squealed, then tackled you in a bear hug. “This is insane! You’ve worked so hard, and now this!” Her laughter echoed across the training rooming, contagious and full of genuine happiness.

You leaned down and kissed her lips. Her lips were soft, familiar, and everything you’d been craving. It was a kiss that was filled with love and passion. Her hand cupped your cheek, anchoring you in the present. The kiss deepened, a silent confession of all the words you hadn’t yet said.

“Alright, lovebirds!” Leah said, fake gagging, “pack it in, save it for later!”

As the days went by, you settled into your new life as an Arsenal player. The training sessions were intense, but exhilarating. You pushed yourself harder than ever, determined to prove your worth on the pitch. Lia was your constant support, cheering you on all the time.

One evening, after a tough session, you collapsed onto the couch in your shared apartment. Lia joined you, her eyes filled with pride. "You're incredible," she said, brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "I've never seen anyone adapt so quickly."

You grinned, leaning into her touch. "It's all thanks to you," you replied. "Having you beside me makes everything better."

[ultralightpoe]

Rule Number One- Jake Seresin

Authors Note: FINE I GIVE IN, I WILL WRITE THIS HOT MAN 

Word Count: 1361

Warnings: Talking about spicy times but no actual spice. Allusions to a bad relationship before 

Enjoy!

The rule had been written on a cheap bar napkin at 3am on a desperate night. You had needed a night off from work and your friends were more than willing to bring you out on their regular Saturday night party.  They had spent most the night congratulating you on finally removing the stick from your ass and you spent the first half accepting any drink they shoved in your hand. 

Anything to forget him. 

This is the night you would meet ‘Hangman’ or as you liked to call him ‘Salty Jake’. 

Your friends were all whispering about him and the group he was with, apparently apart of some flight school called Top Gun, and they were all huge flirts. Your friend Amy waved a red scarf she had warned and began singing the old red flag song you made in high school when he approached but you didn’t care. Because he was absolutely beautiful and he wasn’t HIM. 

He introduced himself as Jake, and you gave him a flirty response with your own. Jake knew how to play the game well, and you couldn’t help the excited heat that traveled your body as every compliment he gave. 

Soon enough it was decided that he would be coming back to your place. “On one condition, Sugar.” He had smiled, pulling you in by your hip and dragging a napkin across the table. “You follow the rule.”

“What’s the rule?” You breathe out, embarrassed by the fact you had definitely soaked through your panties just at his voice.  He chuckled knowingly, taking a pen and scribbling across the napkin before handing it to you. 

You laughed as you read it, muttering no problem before he snatched it back and shoved it in his pocket while he winked at you and dragged you out. 

At the time you honestly thought you could follow the rule, I mean this was just gonna be a one time thing. ‘NO FALLING IN LOVE’

Who would fall in love with a one night stand?

—-----------------------

The one night stand turned out to be the best thing you had ever felt, and apparently you had wasted 6 years on a boy who knew nothing about female pleasure. But Jake did. Jake praised it. 

That one night stand turned into a weekly thing. A game both you enjoyed playing. 

He would always come in with his friends, and you liked to think he immediately spotted you, then you would skirt around each other for a bit. Sometimes you would dance, other times you would sit with your friends and listen to them. But no matter what you would always make your way to him by the end of the night.

He always greeted you with a smug smile and pulled you in, leaning down to nip at your lips and drag you home. 

But then you made a huge mistake.

Somewhere along the way you had broken the rule, that shit rule that was sprawled across that stupid napkin, and you found yourself falling in love with Jake Seresin. 

Your heart beat picked up everytime he smiled at you, and you began wishing you could just kiss him and make eye contact while he fucked you, maybe even made love to you. But you craved his attention and affection, desperate to make him smile and stay close. 

You were so fucking stupid. 

At first you ignored your feelings, but after a couple weeks it came crashing down when he collapsed next to you in a sweaty heap, both of you trying to catch your breath. A small giggle escaped your lips as you stared at your ceiling, drawing his attention immediately as he turns to watch you. 

“What’s so funny? That not good enough?” He teases, leaning to kiss your forehead before sitting up and looking around for his clothes. 

“I was in a serious relationship before this, is all.” You giggle, watching his back tense up as he tries to find his boxers. 

“Why’s that funny?”

“I wasted my life.” You murmur, the giggle slipping as you turn serious. You stare at the ceiling still, too scared to look at him as his hand finds your thigh. 

“Are you dead and I just didn’t know it, Sugar?”

Reigning in a breath, trying to ignore the warmth his touch gave you as you sit up to look at him, making eye contact and reaching a hand up to touch his cheek. Your window was cracked and the breeze was beginning to bite at your sweat clad skin, but you were too focused on the softness of his skin under your fingers.

“Do you ever think about getting serious?” You whisper, a nervous feeling churning in you. “D….Does your heart ever race when your near me or is that just me?”

His jaw tightens and he flinches back from your touch and a wave of panic fills you. “Please tell me you feel this too. Please tell me that you crave my touch as much as I crave yours. That you are feeling just as desperate as I am when you are-” 

He moves away then, snatching his pants and pulling something out of the pocket. It’s crumpled when he throws it on the bed before you and you reach for it slowly as he rushes to get dressed. 

The napkin is old, and the words can barely be read as you unravel it but you know what it is. Your throat tightens and your eyes sting as the tears begin forming, but you don’t say anything as he snatches his shoes and slams your bedroom door closed while he leaves. 

He hadn’t felt the same, then. 

—----------------

“I’m such an idiot.” You whine, watching Amy come through your apartment like a tornado. 

She had shown up 2 weeks into your pity party with pizza and cleaning supplies. “Oh please, it is his loss-”

“You said that with Thomas too.”

“It was definitely Thomas’ loss. He hit you.”

“I’m just saying you only get one valid ‘his loss’ and we used it on Thomas. Let’s be honest, Jake is my loss.” You snap, “I should have just kept my mouth shut.”

“Military men suck.” She sighs, sitting with you on the bed. 

“Men suck.” You agree. 

“Wanna be lovers?”

“No. You are far too pretty for me.”

“SHUT UP!” She cackles, slapping your shoulder before dragging you up with her. “No more of this. Lets go get drunk.”

—------------------------------

“She’s not here.” A voice starts at his shoulder, turning to see Phoenix waving her eyebrows with a smug smile. “You can stop looking.”

“I wasn’t looking for her.” Jake snaps, rubbing the back of his neck as he clutches the bottle in his hand. 

“You look for her everytime we come in here, and then you sulk in the corner like a kicked puppy.” She laughs, walking to the bar. He follows, not having anything else to do since everyone else seemed to be living their lives. 

His heart picks up when he sees a couple of your friends at the bar, hoping to hear your laugh and see you. But his excitement dies down when he realizes you are not there with them. But the fast beat in his chest doesn’t die down and another wave of shame fills him. 

You had been so fucking gorgeous, bearing your heart to him, saying the things he had dreamed of you saying for months. It was like he had he had cracked the wall you built around yourself and not only did you mention the relationship before you had opened the door to him. 

You had opened up. 

He hadn’t even said a word, instead he threw that napkin down on the bed like a coward. The very same napkin he clutched in his hand nearly everyday, desperately begging himself not to fall for you. It hadn’t worked. 

It was terrifying the way you haunted him. You filled his dreams, he often wondered what you were doing while he was stuck flying, wondering what you would wear next time he saw you or what perfume you would choose. 

He was a desperate desperate fool.

[sissyhopes]

The Trophy

Imagine a gilded cage. Like, really picture one in your head. What do you see?

Me, of course - but what else?

Anything? Some cushions, a little blanket? Entertainment? No? Just a little golden cage, and me?

It's not that different, then, from a regular cage, is it? Just some metal bars, and me - trapped inside.

When I first started working for Harrington & Co, I was eager, hungry for success, and completely unaware of the path life would take me down. I had always known my boss, Max Harrington, by reputation - he was a titan in the finance world, a man whose mere presence commanded respect. I turned down higher-paying jobs for the name recognition alone, hoping his renowned ferocity and charisma would rub off on me.

So, when Max took a special interest in me, I saw it as the break he had been waiting for. Exactly what I deserved.

At first, it was subtle. Appropriate, even. I was a kind of protégé, some middle-ranking grunt he'd seen something extraordinary in. Nobody really questioned it.

Max invited me to dinners with important clients, praising my quick thinking, my easy charm, and how I could hold my own in conversations that usually left junior associates gasping for breath. I felt like I was being groomed for leadership, rather than groomed for submission to him.

I was intoxicated by the attention, the warmth of Max's approval. He had grown up in a modest family. He was just like me: always striving for more. He knew as well as I did that Max Harrington represented the “more” I'd craved my entire life.

I suppose you don't get where he has in life without being able to turn opportunities to maximum advantage. Soon, the invitations became more frequent. Dinners at high-end restaurants turned into weekend getaways to exclusive resorts. He spared no expense, ensuring I experienced the luxury that came with being in his orbit. It was exhilarating at first - flights on private jets, tailored suits, five-star accommodations. I assumed this was part of grooming him for a bigger role in the company. After all, the closer you got to power, the more you absorbed it.

But something shifted. He went distant. Suddenly, I was back at my desk, with everyone else, working hard, with no attention from the big man upstairs. My middling salary couldn't stretch to the luxuries I'd tasted, and I felt the dull thud back to reality daily. Every bland, cheap meal. Every bus journey home from the office. I hungered for a return to the life I had savoured, if only for a brief moment.

I poured over everything I'd said, every action and decision, wondering what I did to lose his favour. I resisted the urge to try to contact him, making myself look needy, powerless - to make him think I'd done something wrong.

One night, after a few too many glasses of wine, and weeks of misery in my boring life, I felt the bravery I'd been lacking. "He'll appreciate me being direct," I told myself. "Just like he is." I texted his personal number, asking if I'd done anything wrong, and imploring him for the chance to prove I was worthy of my place under his wing.

He never responded. It was a bitter defeat, a rejection that undermined my self-confidence totally. I tried to maintain my work, but I was distracted, ashamed and disappointed. My supervisors noticed, and my appraisals reflected that. I knew Mr Harrington read every staff members' appraisals religiously, and knew I had once again let him down. It was a total humiliation - I knew exactly where I belonged.

One evening, after a particularly lavish dinner held to congratulate the management teams for a good year, Max avoided looking at me all evening. Knowing I was the lowest-performing in the team, I felt so unwanted I tried to sneak away earlier. And there he was, at the door, as if he'd anticipated my movements before I'd even decided on them.

He offered me a gift: a custom-made Rolex. “To show my appreciation,” Max said, his smile dripping with an affection that felt almost too personal, too intimate.

I accepted - what choice did I have? - though unease simmered under my gratitude. I brushed it off as some kind of imposter syndrome.

Surely, this was normal. If I wanted to rise to the top, I needed to embrace these perks, right? In any case, it reflected the faintest creaking of the door of opportunity. I knew I had to run through that door while it was still open. I might never get another chance.

The watch was embossed with pink stones around the face, and the band was engraved 'Pretty Baby'. I suppose it was originally a gift for someone else - it wasn't quite my style, and yes: it was a little embarrassing to wear it. But wear it I did: every single day. I wanted everyone else to know that the boss was looking out for me.

Then came the more personal requests. Max asked me to accompany him to exclusive events - not as a colleague, but as his plus-one. I found himself standing at Max's side during charity galas, private art showings, and high-society functions. At first, I convinced himself it was still part of the job, that these were networking opportunities, moments to rub shoulders with the elite.

But over time, I realised something. Max never introduced me as an employee. There was no mention of my work or my potential career progression. Not even my name. My presence became decorative, my role as silent as it was visible. The compliments Max lavished on me became more personal, less professional.

“You look just stunning in that suit,” Max would say, his eyes lingering just a little too long. “You're the perfect companion for these sort of things. I think we can assume - if you're willing, of course - that you'll be accompanying me for the forseeable. I'll have my assistant arrange for some wardrobe support for you. Maybe a stylist. Let's make sure you always look your very best.”

I blushed. It was the first thing he'd said directly to me all evening - the first thing anyone had, in fact. I felt cared for, but not respected. The words flashed across my mind, for the first time in panic. Pretty Baby.

Before I knew it, he was spending more time with Max outside the office than within it. The boundaries had totally blurred without my realising it.

My friends noticed the change. “Man, you've really hit the jackpot, huh?” one had commented, eyeing my expensive, feminine watch, the designer clothes Max had picked out for me as a "reward for all the hard work.”

But inside, I felt a growing discomfort, a sense that something had gone terribly wrong. I guess it was from the discomfort, actually. My suits were increasingly tailored away from my personal style - cinched waists, skinnier trousers with high waists and raised ankles - in pastel colours like baby blue, mauve, and a dusty pink. They felt feminine to me, and the discomfort pulsed through my body. At least nobody expected me to say anything. Just stand next to Max, smiling.

I had entered into this personal relationship with Max - because by now, that’s what it had become - thinking it would propel me forward in my career. But now, two years later, I wasn't any closer to that promotion he had been promised. If I asked, he would just wave away my concerns, like they didn't matter.

"No, no." he'd say, without looking at me. "I don't want you working more. You have an important role to play here."

My 'role' was clear: I was Max's accessory. Some kind of power symbol for him to show off.

The realisation hit him hard one night when they attended a high-profile charity auction. I had spent hours getting ready, picking out the right suit, ensuring my hair - now growing longer, as Mr Harrington instructed - was perfect. As they entered the grand ballroom, heads turned, and Max soaked up the attention as usual. But when people approached them, it was me they noticed.

“You two make such a handsome couple,” one wealthy and highly generous woman said with a wink.

I forced a smile, my stomach knotting as Max wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. It was a gesture too intimate, too possessive.

I wanted to pull away, but the weight of everything Max had given him, the lifestyle I had become so accustomed to, pinned me in place. I realised that somewhere along the line, I'd forgotten how to say no to him.

Now, he knew that too.

In the quiet moments, I wondered when it had all changed. Had there been a moment when I could have stopped this? Should I have walked away before Max’s gifts became chains that bound me to this life? Or had I been a willing participant all along, seduced by the promise of wealth, power, and status?

The trousers were replaced with demure, knee-length pencil skirts. My shirts finally crossed the line into blouses. I wore court shoes, with two inch heels, into the office. My stylist taught me to apply makeup in two styles - office and formal.

Maybe that sounds like the moment I should have jumped off this runaway train, even if it hurt. The thing is: I was so far gone, I already knew my moment had passed. I didn't even know who he was anymore. So I kept letting him tell everyone else who I was, and contorting myself to fit the image.

The eager, ambitious man who had walked into Harrington & Co. two years ago had vanished, replaced by someone who wore expensive gowns, lived alone in a penthouse Max had insisted he move into, and played the role of the doting, adoring partner - though they never acknowledged the term aloud.

My career had become a shadow, something I barely thought about now. I wasn't obliged to come to the office anymore. My days were filled with social obligations, dinners, and luxurious trips with Max. On the outside, it looked perfect - he had everything he had ever wanted. But the cost had been higher than he realised. I had no independence. I had no status of my own. I just hung on his arm, silently, as an object of his power.

Somewhere along the way, I had become a trophy. I could see it in everyone's eyes. Elite circles are small, and so they'd all watched me closely over the years - from a confident, ambitious man, to a demure and silent pet. I knew what they thought of me.

It wasn’t just my professional ambitions that had died. It was my sense of self. The reluctance, the embarrassment that now consumed me was kept buried deep inside, masked behind the practiced, doll-like smile he wore in public. Max never asked if I was happy; he never questioned if I wanted this life. That didn't matter to him, so long as I knew my place and played along.

Now, every morning I wake up in the sprawling penthouse, looking out at the city skyline, and wonder how to pass the time. No work, no real friends, nothing to achieve. No hopes or dreams. Money helps, but the truth would nibble at my flesh constantly - I had traded the man I could have been for the guarantee of luxury, for comfort, for the hollow promise of a womanhood I never wanted, and that depended entirely on his whims.

And in the silence of our opulent life together, in those intimate nights when Mr Harrington accompanies me to my penthouse, in the deafening shadow of the whispers about me from the edges of ballrooms and galas each night, I had come to accept my role: Max’s trophy. Nothing more.

---

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[girlactionfigure]

⚠️ SATURDAY after Shabbat - ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

( after Shabbat summary report #3 )

📌 HEZBOLLAH ROCKET ATTACK kills 11+ children, ages 10-20, critically and seriously injured: 34+ mostly children, in Majdal Shams - north Golan Druze city.

.. IDF Spox: "All the murdered are children. (Number increased to 11)  According to the investigation, it was a single rocket that was launched and the warning was too short.”

.. Among the dead are four brothers from the same family.

.. (Really?) The UN Force in Lebanon UNIFIL: "We are in contact with the authorities in Lebanon and Israel regarding the incident in Majdal Shams, in an effort to keep the peace.”

🔹DRUZE STATEMENT.. The head of the Druze community, Sheikh Mwapak Trif (sorry if error in name translation): "We are in great shock at the terrible massacre in this brutal terror attack. A functional country cannot allow continued harm to its citizens. It crosses every possible red and black line.”

🔹ARAB MEDIA.. Lebanese media emphasize that in Israel there is "significant incitement" among senior Israeli officials regarding a powerful response against Hezbollah in Lebanon.

🔹PM.. to depart US basically as quick as can be organized with the delegation, within a few hours.

🔹LEBANESE DRUZE demand an investigation.. Wiam Vahab, the Druze-Lebanese politician who is considered close to Hezbollah, tweeted incisively: "Our blood is not cheap, we demand an independent investigation.  There are 200,000 Druze in Lebanon.

🔹US SAYS.. American officials to Israeli media: The Biden administration is very concerned that what happened in Majdal Shams in the Golan will lead to an all-out war between Israel and Hezbollah.

▪️PROTESTS - ANTI-GOVT.. large Tel Aviv Kaplan protest - “elections now, free the hostages now”.  Large but smaller than previous weeks.

🩸BLOOD DONATION REQUEST.. MDA says over 100 units of blood used for injured in the attack, calls for blood donations.  Here’s where (change the date to tomorrow) -> https://www.mdais.org/blood-donation

♦️Report in Lebanon IDF Air Force began an intense wave of flights over Beirut, Sidon, Tripoli. (???)

♦️IDF AIRSTRIKE on Shabbat in Balata, Shechem, Samaria.  Terror cell hit, commander killed.  During further battles, 2 terrorists eliminated, 21 wounded.

⭕ JENIN.. Shooting by terrorists at the Al-Jalama checkpoint, north of the city of Jenin, on Shabbat day.  Then shooting at Israeli town of Shaker, across the green line.

🔅EMERGENCY PREP - THE BASICS

🔅via ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting the World to Israel in Realtime

A number of people responded to a few scary-ish articles “well what am I supposed to do?”

Basic preparation:

.. Drinking water.  Buy some bottled water, 9 liters per person.

.. Washing / flushing water.  Have a few buckets  or a bunch of used water bottles, to wash or flush with - fill buckets when emergency starts.

.. Medicine.  If you take chronic medicine (every day), take the 3 month supply from your Kupah.

.. Money.  Have cash on hand in case ATM’s and credit cards aren’t working.

.. Food.  Canned, dry, etc, supplies on hand for a week.  Baby food? Formula? Special nutrition? Pet food?

.. Light.  Flash lights, candles. 

.. Shelter.  Make sure it is ready.

More here -> Supplies and Equipment for Emergencies.  https://www.oref.org.il/12490-15903-en/pakar.aspx

❗️EMERGENCY PLANNING

Links to prepare for greater conflict.  Note many of the links work on in Israel, to view from outside use a VPN (special app or program that lets you appear somewhere else on the internet).

.. Preparing your home for an emergency.  https://www.oref.org.il/12490-15902-en/Pakar.aspx

.. Help Prep your Neighborhood and Family Elderly.  https://www.oref.org.il/12550-20999-en/pakar.aspx

.. Know the Emergency numbers:

Police 100 emergency, 110 non-urgent situation

Ambulance 101

Medics 1221

Fire 102

Electric Company 103

Home Front Command 104

City Hotline 106

Senior Citizen Hotline *8840

Social Services Hotline 118

Cyber (hack) Hotline 119

🔸 MENTAL HEALTH HOTLINES, in case you are freaking out:

.. in English : Tikva Helpline by KeepOlim, call if you are struggling!  074-775-1433.

.. in Hebrew : Eran Emotional Support Line - 1201 or chat via eran.org.il

[3terna15unshin3]

gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

2 of 6 ★ 6013 words

previous — masterlist — next

— warnings: none

The three weeks you have before your move absolutely fly by like no time at all. And so does your friends’ state of shock when the words ‘New York’ first left your mouth. It barely lingers before celebration continues and you party the whole night away.

Avni ends up getting a cake, like she promised, and decks the boy’s flat out in obnoxious Poundland decor. Ross stands on a chair to hang streamers from the ceiling. You drink cheap wine, smoke some more, and everyone shares the cake by each taking your own forks to it, instead of cutting it into slices.

At one point you’re so drunk that you willingly pose for a photo. It happens when Greta passes out on the sofa, and Hann and George take it upon themselves to smear cake all over her face. It makes you giggle like a toddler—the fact that they somehow did it without waking her—and you laugh until you cry, belly completely sore. You hand your camera over to Matty, telling him to capture you pointing at the sleepy, icing-covered Gret with tears spilling out of the corners of your eyes.

He isn’t sure why you find it so funny but your laugh makes him laugh and he loses it when watching you through the viewfinder. He clicks through the previews once he’s done taking them, grinning with adoration at the pure joy on your face, thankful for the rare occasion that it’ll appear on your memory card.

For a second, he forgets that you’re moving. But then, he remembers again, and downs more wine to forget for a bit longer.

It’s a completely bittersweet feeling. You feel their genuine happiness for you and your success; no trace of envy or doubt. They’re your biggest supporters. But underneath, there’s an inevitable sadness surrounding your departure, and the clock only ticks louder and louder as the number of days until your flight departs continues to dwindle.

The sadness feels realer when your last weekend in Manchester comes around and you realise that it’s the last gig you’ll be in town for. Your camera’s in hand, like always, and you act normal—but the drinks you have before the boys go on stage taste too strong, or maybe too weak. The collar on your shirt keeps poking at your ear and you consider asking the bartender if he has a pair of scissors to cut it off. Maybe you’ll ask him to cut your ear off too, while he’s at it.

You’re not sure what’s wrong, at first. But then you just realise that you’re just really sad.

Avni can tell that you’re having a bit of a moment. She wraps her arm around your shoulder and leans her head into yours. Gret notices, taking her hand and giving yours a squeeze with it. You smile, and lower your camera to try and stay grounded. There are thousands of photos you’ve taken and will take in the future—but only one moment like this.

The stare you usually chase while the band performs—the one belonging to Matty—is the one to find yours first, for once. You melt instantly when it lingers. His eyebrows raise for a second, to acknowledge your eye contact, and the corners of his mouth tug upwards into a smile.

To Matty, it feels like a privilege to be perceived by you without your camera obstructing the attention. Sure, you never photograph for the full show, frequently watching and dancing freely without your device. And you look at him plenty when he isn’t performing.

But this feels different. He feels you seeing him. Knowing him. Not looking, or watching. Something that couldn’t be captured. So, he doesn’t look away. He holds your gaze until the song ends, only breaking it to adjust the capo on the neck of his guitar and start the next song.

The stare makes a lightbulb go off in his mind.

There’s suddenly a lull of silence. Matty chats to George for a couple of seconds instead of continuing the set. It was bizarre, and your eyes flicker between each of the boys to figure out what’s going on. The curly headed boy turns to each member individually when they’re about to start, and stalls even longer.

He eventually approaches his microphone again. “We’ve just decided to switch things up a bit,” Matty explains. “This is a new one. Sorry if it sounds rubbish, we don’t really have the right equipment to play it well. But I hope you like it.”

You see Ross mumble something back in his direction, and then Matty laughs and quickly says, “Ross has just corrected me and said that we’ve not decided to switch things up, I have. Which is true,” with a chuckle. The people listening laugh quietly with him.

Droning chords from Adam’s keyboard sound through the air. Ross’s bass kicks in, supporting the melody from beneath, and George taps calmly at his kit. It’s slow. You don’t recognise it.

Now, Matty’s looking at you again. You and the girls stand at the front of the crowd, as always, but tucked away and off to the right. He’s been staring from his place in the centre of the stage; so your eyes slightly widen when Matty detaches his mic from its stand so he can move freely. He passes Ross to settle directly in front of you.

“What time are you coming out?”

He stumbles the lyrics out of his mouth rhythmically and all you can think about is the way his lips move as the music progresses.

“Don’t you see me? I

I think I’m falling

I’m falling for you,”

You notice that he stays unusually still. The song has an undeniable melancholy that strays from their rather frenetic catalogue. He seems focused.

“Don’t you need me? I

I think I’m falling

I’m falling for you,”

It takes you an embarrassingly long amount of time to realise that Matty isn’t just still and focused because it’s a new song. He’s still and focused on you. And he isn’t looking at you, he’s singing to you.

“Soon you will be mine, oh

But I want you now.

I want you now,”

The venue you stand in is bigger than the normal pubs the band usually books, so its stage is elevated, and as Matty keeps singing, he crouches into a squat. He’s now only inches from your face, eye-to-eye with you. You feel his breath on your skin.

“I don’t want to be your friend

I want to kiss your neck,”

You’re not sure if you’re breathing or if your lungs are stuck in place. It feels like the latter.

At first you refuse to break his regard, but when you see it begin to dart all around your face, you copy him. He watches the way your eyelashes come together every time you blink, and how the dryness of your lips increases as you breathe out of your mouth. A few of your eyebrow hairs stick up and sit unruly from always being scrunched against the cold metal of your camera.

Meanwhile, you follow his left hand with your eyes when the back of it drags across his bottom lip. There’s nothing there to wipe, but he completes the action anyway. The bridge of his nose and the skin between his eyes wrinkle when his brows furrow, to reach a certain note.

“I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you

On this night

and in this light,”

He sounds amazing. You’re hypnotised by his words and how they sound. His commitment to studying every inch of your face as he sings them makes you consider the possibility of them being about you.

But who are you kidding? Of course they’re about you.

Even if you suddenly forgot how to speak English, or had never met him in your life, or hated the song—Matty’s eyes tell you exactly what he means to say.

He thinks he’s falling.

The music comes to a stop and applause roars from the audience. Gret and Avni stand with their mouths agape, clapping with limply shocked hands. They take turns looking between you and Matty in an attempt to even begin to understand what had just happened. The boys watch in content amusement from their respective spots. But you and Matty don’t move.

Then, he reaches for your hand. It fits into his nicely, but it’s cold and a bit clammy. He says your name and waits for you to say something, but you come to learn that you can’t hear anything at all. Your ears are too full and too muffled but are also ringing with emptiness. The lights brighten and don’t help your sudden circuit overload.

You’re overwhelmed with the way Matty is still looking at you, knowing you, what it means, what it will feel like to leave, why he keeps looking at your mouth, the way his hand felt in yours, how long you’ve been dying for it to be there—and how you could possibly say anything worthy.

Then, all you feel is sorry. You’re sorry that you don’t have a song, or the words, or any idea of what you’re feeling or have ever felt or will ever feel. Because what you feel is so enormous. It’s suddenly catastrophic, and you’re lost in its density.

Your lungs definitely are stuck in place, as you feared.

So you drop his hand. Finally breathe. And you get out as quickly as you can.

—

There’s a couple days of silence between you and Matty. As much as it hurts you, and you’re sure it hurts him, there’s a million other things on your mind and that you have to do before you leave, so you’re too busy to contemplate what happened at the gig any further.

You work your final shift at Cafe North, and then your parents come over from Macclesfield to take the belongings that can’t come with you. They’re going to store all of it at their house, just so the girls don’t have to deal with it. You wonder if Greta and Avni will look for a new roommate while you’re gone, or if they’ll just split your portion of the rent; and secretly hope they choose the latter, as unreasonable as it is.

They don’t mention Matty to you either, which surprises you. You guess they can sense your commitment to avoidance and decide to respect that. You’re not sure what they think, or if they know what Matty thinks. Any time they tell you that they’re heading over to the boys’ flat, or whenever you get a message from Hann or George or Ross that invites you to join, you politely decline.

You do the same when they offer to assist with your move. You apologise profusely, saying that you’re swamped, and explain that your mum and dad are plenty of help. Which they know is true, so they tell you not to worry and that they don’t mind.

But you do worry, and you know that they do mind. They want to spend as much time with you as possible before they can’t anymore, and you’re getting in the way of that.

You’re thankful that your parents don’t ask about the band, or the guys, so that you don’t have to spend time explaining it to them. They’ve known the whole group fairly well since you became friends in secondary school, but they don’t tend to ask about your personal life much at all. For once, you find their emotional distance quite soothing.

It’s now the morning they’re scheduled to head back home, and your mother takes one last look at your room to see if there’s anything else they should take. You look around with her, explaining that most of the items she asks about will be coming to New York with you.

“Even this?” Your father asks, lifting a plastic baggie that sits in front of your closet. It looks quite out of place, so you don’t blame him for asking, but you know what its contents are.

“Yeah, that’s staying here. I think I should be alright with the rest,” you confirm.

So, they pack all of your shit into the boot of their car, and bid you goodbye. Their eyes are dry and their smiles are the same ones they show every Christmas when you come home and then subsequently leave again. It’s another Wednesday for them, you guess, and their nonchalant response to you moving across the world wasn’t anything unexpected.

Your eyes, on the other hand, grow a bit damp. You blink quickly to prevent any tears from falling. But, you don’t feel particularly sad to see them leave.

The way you mutter a ‘See you soon’ and watch them drive away just makes you realise that it’s the first of your many goodbyes.

—

The crinkled bag that your dad mentions has a quilted blanket in it. It’s Matty’s.

A couple of months ago, you were up late at the guys’ flat to sort out your memory card. He was helping decide what photos were best for promotion or to put on potential merchandise and which could be deleted. It was supposed to take an hour at most, but you’d gotten sidetracked (and then way too high), going through years and years worth of pictures. For no particular reason, really. Nostalgia, maybe.

You stayed for so long that the two of you woke up the next morning—necks sore from sleeping on the sofas—and you were far too tired to unwrap the blanket from your body before heading back to your flat.

It’s been sitting in the corner of your room since then. Realistically, you’re sure that Matty hasn’t even noticed its absence. But after sitting in the emptiness of your once fruitful room, and thinking about the fact that tonight would be the last time you see the whole group together before leaving; you makeup your mind. You should talk to Matty.

So, you walk down with the blanket in hand and give the door a knock. George answers.

“Y/N!” He says excitedly. “What’s up? We’re not late, are we? I thought we agreed for 7—”

“We did,” you interrupt before he can continue worrying, “I just wanted to talk, you know. To Matty. He’s here, right?”

George’s eyes fill with understanding, and he mutters a quiet ‘Oh’. Then he nods his head, and flicks it into the direction of his room, telling you wordlessly where you can find him. He stands to the side as you step in and make your way.

You knock gently. “It’s me. Can I come in?”

Matty recognises your voice immediately, but is surprised to hear it. He nearly thinks he’s just imagined it and that it’s actually Ross at his door or something, but when he yells, “Go ahead,” and sees you open the door, he confirms that he isn’t losing it. It’s actually you.

You look stressed, and tired. He guesses that you probably are stressed and tired. There’s a dullness to your skin, and your hair hasn’t been washed in a few days, but Matty still looks at you with wonderment. Your eyes are welcoming, like they always are, and he feels relieved to see them after the days that have passed without having the privilege.

He wants to spring out of bed and pull you in for a hug, take back everything he’s done, ask you to forget about it, and beg for things to go back to normal—how they used to be. But he knows he can’t, and shouldn’t, and that making things go back to normal isn’t what he really wants. So after you enter and close the door behind you, he lets you speak first.

“This is yours.” Your arm stretches out to drop the blanket onto his bed, where he sat. He looks at it, and chuckles.

“Sure you don’t want to take it with you?” There’s a teasing and sarcastic tone in his voice that makes you smile out of habit.

“I’ve stuffed my bags to the brim, so no.” You admit.

He doesn’t say anything back, so the room goes quiet. It’s actually a bit awkward. You’re still standing, too scared to sit down with him and too stubborn to exit and bail. I probably should have thought of something to say, you consider internally.

Thankfully, after a prolonged silence, Matty’s voice slices through it.

“You’ve always known that you’d choose New York, huh?”

You’re confused, wondering why he’s asking about that instead of his weekend serenade. But you finally fathom that in the wake of your internship news, there’s something else on his mind.

He’s the only one who sees through your lie.

You nod, not knowing what else to say. “How’d you know?”

He taps the spot on his bed next to him, inviting you to sit. You oblige with timidness.

“Because you’re my best friend and I know you, Y/N. I know that you’re too uptight to apply for an internship without knowing everything about it, let alone decide to move across the world on a whim.” Matty explains, exasperated, and seemingly a bit frustrated. “I also know that you’re probably blaming how uptight you are on the fact that you’re a Virgo, which drives me up the wall.”

You have to stifle a smile when he mentions your interest in astrology, but feel a bit deflated at the fact that he thinks you’re uptight—though you know that he has a point. He knows you better than you think he does. It makes you feel worse.

Before you can respond, Matty starts again. “Why’d you lie this whole time?”

“I was scared. I still am,” you try to explain, “I had this thought that nobody would believe I’d have it in me or secretly be relieved that I’ll be gone. London just seemed like a safer bet. Less embarrassing if I failed,”

You search the look on his face for any hints of anger. Thankfully, you don’t find any, but you don’t find much happiness either.

“We’d never be relieved for you to go, are you insane?” He remarks.

“A bit, probably.” You joke, and Matty laughs quietly. It’s a harmonious sound. His mouth falls back into a straight line afterwards.

“I honestly thought I’d get rejected and then wouldn’t have to explain myself. Then of course they had to go on and want me,” you continue, trying to make light of his stern expression. It doesn’t work. “I’m sorry for lying. I wish I didn’t.” You finish quietly.

He fiddles with the loose stitching of the blanket you’ve just returned, then his eyes find yours.

“Did you not like the song?”

There it is. The thing you came to discuss.

Shockingly, Matty asking the dreaded question didn’t feel as scary as you anticipate. He just seems absolutely desperate to know your answer.

“Don’t be stupid, Matty. Of course I liked it.” You respond.

He softens momentarily but then furrows his brows.

“Don’t call me stupid. I have every right to think that you hated it after you ran away and ignored me for days.” Matty argues.

Guilt washes over you. You try and figure out why you even did it—how you could possibly let him believe anything that wasn’t the truth. He wrote you a song, and you dropped his hand.

“I ran away because I think I’m falling too.”

Matty let his heart flutter for a second. “Do you hear how confusing that sounds?”

“Yeah, I do. And I feel terrible. But I felt like everything was crashing down on me,” You explain. You swallow what feels like a toad in your throat.

“You see—that’s the difference,” starts Matty, “Singing that song to you made me float.”

“It was amazing, Matty. I think we were both floating. Nothing else mattered to me but you, for those couple of minutes. But then I came back down to Earth,” It becomes difficult to hold his gaze, so you look at your hands. “The panic I felt afterwards was just an amalgamation of everything changing and how afraid it made me, you know? I’m so sorry that I took that out on you. I opted for saying nothing instead of risking saying the wrong thing,” you ramble.

When you look up at him again, a soft smile floods his face. Something makes you think it’s a smile of forgiveness, but you aren’t sure. There’s still a hint of heartache in his stare.

“You could have said anything. It’s easy to at least say something,” he says.

“Maybe it’s easy for you.” You defend.

It is easy, on the other hand, for you to stare at his mouth. Matty picks at the dry skin on his lips with his fingers. You watch him alternate between that and nipping at the skin around his nails with his teeth. He’s watching you watch, and you see him copy and let his eyes flicker down to your lips a couple of times; but you ignore it.

The silence that washes over the room only allows your thoughts to increase in volume. You think of how great his family has always been to you. The times you’d both party too hard at someone’s house in secondary school and had to take turns holding each other’s hair as you wretched. How he always opts to sit next to you, whether you’re in a pub or on a basement sofa or on the train. The way his lips find themselves pressed against your cheek every time you part.

And lastly, how it’s not like this with anyone else. Because maybe you’ve both already fallen.

“Why did you wait so long? To tell me?” You suddenly ask.

He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re not the only one who’s allowed to be afraid, darling.”

You look at him and you’re both frowning. It feels like he’s angry at you, even though you know he’s more angry at the circumstances.

The only way you know how to relieve the heavy air between you two is to get up and go. Leaving seems to be what you do best, after all. So, you use your hands to push yourself up off Matty’s mattress and take a step towards his door.

A hand grips your wrist before you can get any further. He stands up with you, and turns you around, bringing you face-to-face. The sudden movement makes you gasp.

It’s the closest your faces have ever been. The edge of Matty’s bed nudges the back of his calves, preventing him from creating any space between your bodies; but even if he had all the space in the world to move backwards, you have a feeling that he still wouldn’t.

“What’re you doing?” You pose with your voice barely a whisper.

You’re too scared to say it any louder, and even though you ask, it’s rhetorical. Matty’s eyes are trained on your lips now, instead of the quick glances you‘d catch him sneaking earlier in your conversation. You know that he’s fighting the urge to kiss you.

Your breathing speeds up as you do the same, searching his eyes for permission and internally begging him to just do it.

“Can I kiss you?” Matty mumbles, too caught up in the moment to enunciate clearly, inching even closer. Your noses are almost touching.

“Please,” you mutter back, nodding your head to confirm.

He closes the gap and finally takes your lips in his. Your hand migrates up to his jaw as your eyes flutter shut, sighing in satisfaction. It feels good to be kissing Matty. It feels right. Like you should have been doing it all along.

His fingers creep around your waist and it makes you shiver. He holds you tight, like he’s afraid you’ll fall apart when he lets go. You’ve never felt safer.

Suddenly, your tongue’s in his mouth, and Matty is sitting atop his mattress and bringing you down to straddle his thighs. There’s something so familiar about him feeling the soft skin on the small of your back with his calloused hands even though it should be foreign.

Then it’s his tongue’s turn to explore your mouth, and you stifle a quiet moan. Matty does the same when you run your fingers through his hair and tug lightly. He hums into your lips as they move in sync with his.

When your hips subconsciously roll, he has to pull away and catch his breath. Your foreheads lean together and you hesitate to open your eyes. But you’re dying to look at him, desperate to see his face, so you back yours away and do anyway.

You’re immediately met with Matty’s gaze. You smile sheepishly through your heavy breathing. The fact that you’ve just made out with your best friend starts to sink in, so a wave of nerves wash over you. Giddiness wipes them away almost immediately.

He squeezes your hips and your hands still sit in his hair. You take one of them and brush the curls that dangle down out of his face to see him fully. He’s beautiful, even at this close of a distance.

Matty’s eyes dart to your lips once more, so you give him one more quick peck to satisfy his curiosities. He chuckles at the fact that you knew exactly what he was thinking.

What shocks you is the first thing he utters after making your stomach flip upside down.

“Please don’t go.”

It’s less of a phrase and more of a plea. His voice is quiet and bleak.

Matty hides his face in your neck while he says it. You feel him pepper light kisses above your collarbone. When he keeps going, your eyes find themselves shutting in pleasure once again. The way his lips make you feel is an easy excuse to ignore whether he was serious with his words or not. But then, he does the contemplation for you.

“I’m not kidding, Y/N,” Matty whispers, “Stay with me.”

You peel him off of you. “What? Matty, come on—”

“Jamie’s gonna sign us to his label for cheap so we can start releasing stuff. Our gigs are selling out, he says we have a few opening act opportunities lined up! He has connections. Things are looking the best they’ve looked in years. We’ll be on tour and you could be our photographer! I’d hate to work with anyone else—you’re such an integral part of this artistically—I can talk to him about a contract,”

The words flow out of him with haste and desperation. Matty says it all while burning his gaze into your eyes. A feverish energy seeped out of his skin and you could feel it on yours. His hands rose to cup your face gently, begging you to say something. Anything.

“Nobody gets me like you. We can make something out of this, right? You and me? Don’t you think so?” he insists.

Your heart sinks to your feet. The brown in his eyes drips innocently and its warmth swallows you whole. Stop looking at me like that, you beg internally.

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t feel the same way, but,” You begin painfully, watching his curiously furrowed brows turn to confusion. “I’m going to New York, Matty. As much as I might like to—I can’t just stay for you,”

He removes his hands from your face and sits them on your thighs instead. “You wouldn’t just be staying for me. You’d stay for the band, Y/N. You and I have always dreamed of this, our big break is so close I can taste it—”

Matty’s words hit and ignite a bit of fury within you. It forces you to interrupt him with the thing you think he seems to not understand.

“The band’s success is really important to me, you’re right. But I can’t give everything up for that. Matty—that’s your dream.”

“I mean, when you put it like that—”

“New York is my dream.”

—

The late spring weather is nice in Manhattan.

You have a reporting manager from ELLE, Ben, who picks you up at the airport. He explains that you won’t be working with him, but that he’s the person you should contact in regards to your contract, your work visa, or your housing. So, he then shows you to the flat—or apartment, you guess—that you’ll be staying in for the year. It’s very central and within walking distance of anything you can imagine needing to access. It also has a functioning lift, which is a pleasant change.

He helps you get all of your bags into your room. There’s a bed in the corner and a set of drawers that doubles as a desk, and a cramped closet. It’ll do.

“Your roommate’s from Toronto and came over a bit early since it’s so nearby. She’s been in the apartment for a week or so, so she can give you a tour when she gets back. Knows the place way better than me.” He explains as you plonk your bottom onto your mattress. You stand back up quickly, thinking of the fact that you should probably put the sheet set you brought onto the bed before getting comfortable.

“Thank you,” you say graciously, “For all the help, and for showing me around. I’ll make sure to let you know if I need anything.”

Ben smiles. “Please do! I’ll check in on you once in a while, too. I do have the best food recommendations for these couple of blocks, so even if it’s just for that—reach out anytime,”

And then he’s gone, and it’s just you. It’s weirdly quiet. You expect New York to be busy and bustling—which it is, from what you saw in the taxi over from the airport—but the craziness seems to begin outside your window. The space inside feels pretty calm.

You thank whatever god blessed you with some time alone before meeting your roommate, so you can do some unpacking and gather up your messy thoughts. Keeping busy might distract you from the anxiety threatening to escape from your pores.

You break open your bags and make your bed, stuff most of your clothes into the closet and then fold whatever didn’t fit. You place your laptop on the flat top of the drawers, along with your camera bag, a couple of books, your jewellery dish and its collection of rings. The room quickly looks like a tornado hit it, and in perfect timing, your roommate arrives back and stands in the doorway.

She stands tall and slim and has trendy clothes on. She wears a smile on her face too, which comforts you, but the embarrassment of her seeing the pigsty of your belongings ultimately prevails. Your face goes red before she even spots you within the chaos.

Her eyes catch yours after scanning the room. “Y/N, right?”

You scramble to your feet and stick your hand out for her to shake. “Yes! God, I’m a mess, sorry. You must be Julia,”

She nods her head and grasps your hand firmly. “Oh please, don’t apologise. My room still looks just like this and I’ve been here nine days,”

“That makes me feel a lot better, thank you,” you chuckle together.

“I can show you around if you want a break from unpacking?” Julia poses. You agree.

The kitchen is bigger than the one you share with the girls back home. You see that your new roommate has her stuff neatly labelled and placed in bins when you open the fridge and a few of the cupboards. Wow, she is organised, you think to yourself. Then you make a mental note to get some of your own to do the same.

You walk around to the living room and are glad to see that it’s furnished, but all of the furniture points at an empty wall. You guess you’ll have to survive without a TV. But you can think of worse things to have to survive without, so you stop yourself from complaining.

Then you’re led to the bathroom that you and Julia have to share. The shower looks fairly new and it seems like she;s kept it clean so far, which you appreciate. You don’t like the colour of the tile, though. Your Manchester flat had a cute pink hue to its shower, and this one was beige and boring. The tile shouldn’t matter, but it makes you unexpectedly sad. You think about Avni and Greta and what they might be doing without you.

Julia avoids showing you her room, so once you’ve seen everything else (there wasn’t much to look at, anyway), you depart back to your room and she makes dinner for herself. Since you’re still full from the complimentary plane meal and running on UK time, you grow quite tired. It’s 8 o’clock and you climb into pyjamas to sneak underneath the covers.

You sit up and scroll on your laptop through your schedule for the rest of the week. It’s busy, but exciting. You look at ELLE’s editorial campaigns online with admiration, finally wrapping your head around the crazy opportunity you’re about to embark on. There’s nothing you’ve wanted more.

But then, you head to Facebook. Your dashboard is pretty quiet, since it’s two in the morning for most of your friends, but you surf anyway. The band’s page comes up.

The whole group drove you down to the train station, where you then travelled to Heathrow for your flight. You all cram into the back of their van with your hoard of bags. Many tears are shed, especially by Avni, and hugging them for the final time is painful.

Nobody's aware about what happened in Matty's room that last day—as far as you know—so you act normal when the guys come over for dinner afterwards. Matty refuses to speak to you directly, you and him only interacting with each other when someone else is there as a buffer. You don’t really make an effort either.

There is still an underlying hurt between you two. It's an intersection of Matty’s feelings of rejection and your frustration from his selfishness. Leaving things in limbo to avoid complicating things even further seems like the only option.

But, when saying goodbye at the station, you embrace Matty for extra long. You hug him like he’s your best friend—because he is—and push aside the whirlwind of events that seemed to muddle everything at the worst possible time. You shake your head at how stupid you were to let it get in the way of your last moments together. Matty even holds on a little longer after you try to pull away the first time.

Seeing the posts on the band’s Facebook wall makes you miss them even more (though it’s only been a day), so you shut your laptop and roll over.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, and think about the feeling of Matty’s lips on yours. How easy it felt, how his palms ran over your skin. You wish you had the chance to kiss him again before leaving.

The droning chords and pulsating beat of the song he sang to you fill your new room. It doesn’t really, but since you attempt to relive it so intensely, a part of you thinks you can actually hear it.

A tear runs down your cheek and onto your pillow. You wipe it away, embarrassed to be crying over a boy when you know you’ll wake up the next morning to attend the first day of your dream job.

You focus on the sounds of Julia walking around the kitchen and then watch the traffic light outside your window turn from green to yellow, to try and flood him from your thoughts. Nevertheless, they persist.

We can make something out of this, right? You and me?

His words echo in your mind and you fall asleep, bittersweetly thinking of an alternate universe where you say yes.

[airticketguide]

Tips for a trip to the United States

You must prepare well for a trip to the United States. There is so much to see and do in this country that it is best to immerse yourself in the country and the places you want to see. Are you looking for nature? Then you have more to see on the west coast than on the east coast. And if you want to discover the nicest American cities, then the east coast is just the thing for you.

One of the best ways to discover the US is to take a road trip. Rent a huge fat car and hit the road !

If you plan to visit a number of National Parks, buy a National Park Pass, which allows you to visit all the parks you want for 80 USD! That is a lot cheaper than separate entrance tickets.

Take a world plug with you, our regular plugs do not fit in the socket here.

We have already visited many destinations in the United States and have written a lot about them. We have visited a lot of National Parks, have been to many world cities and have visited the most beautiful beaches. Here you will find everything you want to know about an unforgettable trip to the USA!

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The 7 most beautiful countries for a Trip in Europe

10 best destinations in America

5 Travel Tips For A Family Vacation

Tips For Visiting Niagara Falls

[cheapflightspicks]

 How to get flight refund money?

Flights are the most important way to travel around the world. You would think that they’re very expensive, but that’s not always the case! All you have to do is know what sites to look at and how to find the cheapest flights. In this blog post, we give you tips on how to find cheap flights from New York to Cuba.

Introduction

There are many ways to find cheap flights from New York to Cuba, and the best way depends on your individual travel needs and preferences. Here are a few tips to get you started:

Compare airfares: Use an online flight comparison website like Cheap flights pick or Airlines contact number USA to compare airfares from different airlines and travel sites. This is the quickest and easiest way to find the cheapest flights.

Search for deals: Sign up for newsletters from airlines and travel sites and follow them on social media. They often offer special deals and promotions that can save you money on your flight. read more...

[lesliegspero]

What Are JetBlue’s Policies for Pets?

JetBlue lets pets fly. But rules apply. Here's what to know.

Small pets can go. Dogs and cats mainly. They must fit under seats. Carriers have size limits. Check JetBlue's website for details. Some breeds can't fly. Snub-nosed dogs are banned. So are some cat breeds. Call to check your pet.

Fees exist for pet travel. It's not cheap. Expect to pay extra. Fees vary by route. Book early for space. Pets need spots too. Not all planes allow pets. Some have limits on numbers. Ask when you book. Be ready with backup plans.

Health papers are needed. Vets must sign off. Shots must be current. Age limits may apply. Very young pets can't fly. Neither can very old ones. Pregnant pets are banned too. Think of your pet's comfort. Long flights may stress them. Consider other options then.

In-cabin only for pets. No cargo holds allowed. This keeps pets safer. But it limits size. Big dogs can't come. Neither can exotic pets. Birds, rabbits, hamsters stay home. Fish tanks are no-go. Stick to small cats and dogs. They're easiest to bring.

Rules change sometimes. Always check first. Don't assume old info works. Call JetBlue directly. Their staff knows best. Online info may be old. Getting it wrong is costly. You might not fly that day. Your pet could be turned away. Double-check everything always.

Bring food and water. Pets get thirsty too. Long waits happen sometimes. Be ready for delays. Bring toys for distraction. Familiar smells help calm pets. Use their favorite blanket. Practice with the carrier before. Get your pet used to it. It'll make flying easier.

Other flyers matter too. Some may have fears. Others may have allergies. Be kind and aware. Keep your pet quiet. Don't let them bother others. Follow crew instructions always. They know best for safety. Your pet is your responsibility. Remember that when flying.

JetBlue tries to help. They want happy pet travelers. But rules exist for reasons. Safety comes first always. For pets and people alike. If unsure, just ask. JetBlue staff can explain more. They deal with pets often. Their advice is usually good. Trust them to guide you.

Flying with pets takes work. It's not always smooth. But with good planning, it works. Many pets fly JetBlue yearly. Most trips go well. Yours can too. Just follow the rules. Plan ahead carefully. Be ready for anything. Your pet will thank you.

Discover BizCage: Your Comprehensive Source for USA Contact Information

For in-depth access to extensive USA contact details, explore the BizCage directory. Offering a wide array of listings, this resource ensures you can find specific contacts across various industries and regions within the United States. Whether you're searching for business contacts, customer service numbers, or professional connections, BizCage is a dependable platform to streamline your search. Utilize its user-friendly interface and vast database to access the most relevant and current contact information tailored to your needs. Efficiently uncover detailed American business contact information with the BizCage directory today.

[lesleyblog]

Why Frontier Airlines Is a Budget Traveler’s Best Friend

Title: Why Frontier Airlines Is a Budget Traveler’s Best Friend

Frontier Airlines is perfect for budget travelers. Its low fares help save money. For people who want to travel cheap, Frontier is a top choice. One way they keep prices low is by offering unbundled fares. This means you only pay for what you need. For example, if you travel light with no carry-on, you pay less. This simple pricing system gives you control over the cost of your trip.

Many budget travelers choose Frontier for short flights. They don’t mind the basic seating. The airline focuses on getting people from point A to point B at a low price. Even with no frills, the savings are huge. For instance, a traveler flying from Denver to Las Vegas could find tickets under $50. These kinds of deals are common with Frontier. Budget travelers love catching these bargains.

Frontier also offers a rewards program called Frontier Miles. You earn miles on every flight. These miles can be redeemed for free flights later. For frequent travelers, this adds up fast. Many people use Frontier Miles to fly for free on future trips. Plus, the airline often offers sales, making it even easier to save. Overall, Frontier gives travelers many ways to cut costs, making it a great choice for anyone on a budget.

Discover USinsurance.: Your Comprehensive Source for USA Contact Information

For in-depth access to extensive USA contact details, explore the USinsurance directory. Offering a wide array of listings, this resource ensures you can find specific contacts across various industries and regions within the United States. Whether you're searching for business contacts, customer service numbers, or professional connections, USinsurance is a dependable platform to streamline your search. Utilize its user-friendly interface and vast database to access the most relevant and current contact information tailored to your needs. Efficiently uncover detailed American business contact information with the USinsurance directory today.

[yaeshanabeyesundere]

Why Is Frontier Airlines Dominating the Budget Airline Market?

In the market for low-cost airlines, Frontier Airlines is a leader. They attract clients with their affordable fares. Their focus on minimalism reduces expenses. They are able to give travelers savings as a result. Frontier's approach is straightforward: offer what is necessary at competitive costs. Many tourists use Frontier in order to reduce their airfare costs. This strategy has helped Frontier gain popularity, particularly with travelers on a tight budget.

Traveling on Frontier is not like flying on other airlines. Extras that other airlines provide are charged for by them. For instance, in-flight food and checked bags are paid for by the passengers. Although many individuals appreciate it, this may seem like a drawback. They are only able to select the services they require. They can avoid paying for something they don't desire in this way. A traveler can fly with just a personal item and pay nothing more than the ticket price.

Additionally, Frontier Airlines flies to a lot of well-known locations. They cater to big American cities as well as popular tourist destinations. They're expanding quickly in part because of this vast network. Even with additional fees, travelers can reach their destinations at a low cost. The way that Frontier travels at cheap cost is altering the way that people view aviation. Paying for only what they require is becoming more and more acceptable. Frontier continues to rule the low-cost airline industry for this reason.

Discover SearchConsult: Your Comprehensive Source for USA Contact Information

For in-depth access to extensive USA contact details, explore the SearchConsult directory. Offering a wide array of listings, this resource ensures you can find specific contacts across various industries and regions within the United States. Whether you're searching for business contacts, customer service numbers, or professional connections, SearchConsult is a dependable platform to streamline your search. Utilize its user friendly interface and vast database to access the most relevant and current contact information tailored to your needs. Efficiently uncover detailed American business contact information with the SearchConsult directory today.

[amalisblog]

JetBlue's Rise to the Top: How It Became a Leading Airline..?

JetBlue started small but quickly grew. Launched in 2000, it focused on low-cost flights. But JetBlue wasn't just cheap. It offered perks other airlines didn’t. For example, passengers enjoyed free snacks and in-flight entertainment. This was unusual for a budget airline. People loved it. Word spread fast. JetBlue also treated customers well. Their approach was simple: make flying pleasant. They hired friendly staff. They handled complaints quickly. Customers noticed the difference. JetBlue earned their loyalty. Soon, they had a strong following. From day one, JetBlue focused on being more than just affordable.

Innovation helped JetBlue stay ahead. They were the first airline to offer free Wi-Fi. Passengers loved staying connected during flights. JetBlue also had the most comfortable seats in economy class. They gave passengers more legroom. This was rare in the industry. JetBlue also launched a loyalty program. It was easy to use. Customers earned points for every dollar spent. These points could be redeemed for future flights. The program became popular. Many travelers chose JetBlue because of it. Their strategy worked. They became a preferred airline for many flyers. JetBlue's focus on comfort and innovation made them stand out.

JetBlue also valued its employees. They believed happy workers meant happy customers. Their training programs were top-notch. Employees were taught to go the extra mile. This reflected in the service. Passengers felt appreciated. JetBlue also offered good benefits to their staff. This ensured low turnover. Happy employees stayed longer, providing consistent service. JetBlue also expanded wisely. They opened new routes gradually. They didn’t overextend. This careful growth helped them avoid common pitfalls. By focusing on customers, employees, and smart growth, JetBlue transformed from a small airline into a leader in the industry. Their journey is a lesson in doing things right.

Discover Luxhomezee Your Comprehensive Source for USA Contact Information.

For in-depth access to extensive USA contact details, explore the Luxhomezee directory. Offering a wide array of listings, this resource ensures you can find specific contacts across various industries and regions within the United States. Whether you’re searching for business contacts, customer service numbers, or professional.

connections,Luxhomezee is a dependable platform to streamline your search. Utilize its user friendly interface and vast database to access the most relevant and current contact information tailored to your needs. Efficiently uncover detailed American business contact information with the Luxhomezee directory today.

[hugheesblog]

Are Frontier Airlines’ Fees Worth the Savings?

Frontier Airlines is known for its low fares. But do those savings come with hidden costs? Many travelers wonder if the fees outweigh the benefits. Let’s break it down.

When booking a Frontier Airlines flight, the initial ticket price seems attractive. However, extra fees can quickly add up. For example, a basic ticket might be cheap, but you may need to pay for carry-on luggage, seat selection, and even beverages on board. A recent traveler reported paying an additional $60 for a carry-on bag and seat selection. This can make your trip more expensive than it first appeared.

Another thing to consider is the seating comfort. Frontier Airlines often offers lower fares by using tighter seating arrangements. If you’re traveling on a long flight, this can be uncomfortable. A passenger might save money upfront but spend more on amenities to make the trip bearable. Additionally, if you need to make changes to your ticket, Frontier Airlines’ change fees can be steep. A change fee might cost around $100, which can be a significant expense.

In conclusion, while Frontier Airlines offers low initial ticket prices, additional fees can make the total cost higher than expected. Travelers need to weigh these fees against the savings. Consider what is included in the base fare and if the extra charges fit your budget. By understanding these costs upfront, you can better decide if Frontier Airlines is the right choice for your next trip.

Discover BizDir:

Your Comprehensive Source for USA Contact Information For in-depth access to extensive USA contact details, explore the BizDir directory. Offering a wide array of listings, this resource ensures you can find specific contacts across various industries and regions within the United States. Whether you're searching for business contacts, customer service numbers, or professional connections, BizDir is a dependable platform to streamline your search. Utilize its userfriendly interface and vast database to access the most relevant and current contact information tailored to your needs. Efficiently uncover detailed American business contact information with the BizDir directory today.

[cheapestdummyticket]

How to Make a Dummy Flight Ticket Online

When planning travel, having a confirmed flight ticket is often essential for visa applications and itinerary requirements. However, buying an actual flight ticket isn't always necessary. That's where dummy flight tickets come in. This guide will walk you through the simple steps to get a cheapest dummy ticket online.

What is a Dummy Flight Ticket?

A dummy flight ticket is a simulated flight ticket used for itinerary planning, proof of onward travel, and visa applications. These tickets are not purchased or verified by airlines but look like real tickets with flight numbers, dates, and passenger details. They are often used when you need to show travel plans but haven't finalized your bookings yet. However, using dummy tickets for misleading purposes, such as visa applications, could lead to legal issues.

Steps to Book a Dummy Flight Ticket Online

1. Choose Your Service

First, select a service provider. Many websites offer dummy flight tickets, dummy hotel reservations, or both. Choose the option that suits your needs.

2. Fill Out the Form

Enter Travel Details: Provide your departure and arrival cities.

Personal Information: Fill in your title, first and last name, nationality, and date of birth. You can add more passengers if needed.

Contact Information: Provide your country code, phone number, and email address.

3. Select Delivery and Purpose

Delivery Time: Choose whether you want to receive your ticket immediately or at a later date. You can receive it via WhatsApp or email.

Purpose: Specify why you need the dummy ticket, such as for a visa application or travel planning.

4. Agree to Terms and Make Payment

Agree to Terms: Check the "I agree" box.

Payment: You'll be directed to the payment page. Common payment methods include PayPal, UPI (Unified Payments Interface), or direct bank transfers. Choose the method that works best for you and follow the steps to complete the payment.

5. Receive Your Ticket

Once the payment is processed, you will receive a booking confirmation. Your dummy flight ticket will be sent via email or WhatsApp as a PDF. Typically, you can expect to receive your ticket within 10 minutes of completing the booking process.

Tips for Getting the Best Dummy Flight Ticket

Cheapest Dummy Ticket: Search for services that offer the cheapest dummy tickets.

Cheap Dummy Flight Ticket: Compare prices to find a cheap dummy flight ticket.

Dummy Ticket with PNR Free: Some services offer dummy tickets with a PNR (Passenger Name Record) for free.

Best Dummy Ticket Website Free: Look for the best websites that provide free or affordable dummy tickets.

Dummy Flight Ticket Price: Check the dummy flight ticket price to ensure it fits your budget.

Dummy Ticket for Visa: Make sure the dummy ticket meets visa application requirements.

Conclusion

Booking a dummy flight ticket online is a simple and convenient way to meet various travel documentation needs. Whether it's for visa applications, travel planning, or other purposes, following these steps will help you get a dummy flight ticket quickly and easily. Happy travels!

[alienateus]

aesthetics.

tastes: authentic homecooked meals, galchi fish, pheasants, traditional and distinct from the mainland, seafood and rice cakes, learning mom's recipes, citrus fruits. tangerines and mandarine oranges, bitter lingering, freeze-dried powders and bite-sized cubes, dull taste on his tongue, obligated and required in space, recycled wastes, korean street foods, fish cakes, dumplings, fried snacks, quick in between research and teachings, bar-food, hamburgers, greasy french fries, shot after shot, vodka spilling over the glass rims, cucumbers, lemons

smells: cheap cologne, sex, petrol, welding fumes, rust, hot metals, training stimulants, cooling fans in the summer heat, rum, ink from correcting pens, mechanical, chemical, candles, lemon, citrus notes, dying flowers, artificial, burning flesh

sights: typhoons, blood under fingernails, exoplanets, bruises, half-written math formulas on dry-erase boards, classic and familiar numbers, stars, a disorganized office, stacks of papers and books. broken pencils, mirrors, computer components, wires, open circuits, sunsets, fading pinks and purples

sounds: broken pottery hitting the floors, crackling noise followed by silence, radio transcripts, communication back and forth between the space center, thrusters, synthesized audios, familiar tunes, earthquakes, gasping, awakening from darkness, rambling speeches, easy lies on the tongue

sensations: scratches against the skin. disconnection. uncomfortable feeling of dried contacts. thermoreceptors. unadulted pleasures, quick releases. disassociation. stimulate, retesting. isolation. loneliness. internal processes. sand between toes.

outfits: space suits, redesigned, black t-shirts, plain jeans, helmets, khakis, gray turtlenecks, thin-framed glasses, hermes briefcases, monochrome sweaters, thin cardigans, gloves up to the elbows, dull, unceremoniously toned

body: sweaty skin, short stature, strong arms, dark eyes, sharp collarbones, unblinking eyes, round, full lips, bitten

other: analytical thinking, math formulas, kepler’s laws, thinking in light years, lithium hydroxide, defense systems, red-light districts, america, then seoul, remembering traditions applying theories to realities, flight, undiscovered mysteries, new civilizations, constant outings in-between academics, changing personality, changing appearance. unidentified, unrecognizable, instant gratification to forget, always aiming to forget

[b2btravelagency]

Best B2B travel Agency in India

Discover unparalleled B2B travel solutions at B2BTravelAgency.com. We redefine travel experiences for businesses, offering a seamless platform connecting travel agents and agencies. Explore a vast array of services, from user-friendly booking software to exclusive deals on flights, hotels, and more. As the best B2B travel portal in India, we prioritize efficiency, reliability, and lucrative opportunities for our partners. Join a community of travel enthusiasts, unlock exclusive benefits, and elevate your business with B2BTravelAgency.com. Your journey to success begins here.

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