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alluringjae · 4 years ago

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until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome (dm me if you want to be added)

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down. Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

781 notes · View notes

vanillann · 4 years ago

Text

the 1994 battle of the performers (luke patterson x f.reader)

i might make this a series if yall are interested!! i would write the rest in the readers p.o.v. this would just be a prologue, lmk!!

word count: 2.9k

the 1994 battle of the performers masterlist

Prologue

“Look what I found on the bulletin board!”

Alex looked around his locker, Luke's smiling face next to a piece of paper held tightly in his grip. He closed his locker and pulled the paper out of Luke’s hands, reading over the word.

Battle of the Performers

December 12th, 1994

The Charles Theatre

“What’s this?”

“This, my friend, is our first live gig,” Luke tapped the top of the page.

“A gig?”

Alex and Luke looked up once they heard Reggie’s voice sound from beside them.

“Yep, it's local but it’s something.”

Luke was over the moon about the plan, I mean come on a gig, that’s all that matters, to say the least.

“Perfect timing, my vintage leather jacket just came in,” Reggie nodded his head, just as happy about the news of the gig.

“Hey,” Bobby came up behind Alex, giving him a small pat on the shoulder and waving at the other guys. He looked over Alex's shoulder, reading over the words just as Alex did seconds ago.

“Are we gonna enter?”

“Yes,” Luke was fast to answer, bouncing on his toes at the idea of finally sharing their music with the world. Alex was about to open his mouth to say something about the paper but the sound of the hall going quite caught his attention.

(Y/N) (L/N) held her bag close to her shoulder, smiling at a few people that passed. The once confident girl seemed out of her element as she made her way to her locker.

“I didn’t know she was out of physical therapy yet?” Bobby muttered quietly to the rest of the group. Their eyes trained on the girl as she smiled when others did and accept the sad apologies.

“Did you hear they kicked her from the dance team?” Reggie spoke, overhearing the conversation from his history class yesterday.

Each boy in Sunset Curve felt horrible for the dancer, after the incident with her ACL and her long recovery. They all had just as much of a dream as she did and they’d be wrecked if they lost it all.

As the girl made it closer to the group Luke adjusted himself in front of her, giving a sympathetic smile.

“Hey (Y/N),” his voice was soft, looking around the halls at all the people that watched the two. A quick glare and half the heads in the hall were back to their original conversation.

“Patterson?”

“Just wanted to apologize, you know-”

“It’s fine, wasn’t anyone's fault,” his heart was ripping out as the girl passed him and moved around him. Her head hung low and broken and she opened her locker and rummaged through it. Luke said nothing, moving back with his little group as his eyes watched her a little longer before turning back.

“So the gig?”

“We can’t enter,” Alex closed his own locker, moving the paper for Luke’s eyes. He pointed to the requirements that were printed at the bottom of the page.

MUST HAVE A DANCE NUMBER WITH LIVE PERFORMANCE

“What,” Luke ripped the paper, holding it between his fingers as he read over the words while Bobby helped guide him throughout the halls.

“They can’t do this!”

“They can, it’s their battle,” Alex commented, giving his friend a sympathetic smile. He could tell how excited he was about the idea of a gig, just for it to be ruined by their underprepared band.

Luke sighed, waving Reggie and Bobby bye and they made their way to English and Luke and Alex had Gym.

“This is trash,” Luke pouted as he made his way into the locker room, Alex luckily paying attention to the both of them and held Luke’s gym bag in his hand.

“We’ll find a different gig,” Alex clapped his friends on the shoulder, finding a stall and quickly dipping in before someone else found it. Luke didn’t care enough in the moment to find his own, easily taking off his “school approved” shirt his mother made him wear into his muscle tee.

“Yeah, but this one would’ve shown all of our parents, mine and yours, maybe even Reggie’s,” Luke’s shoulders dropped at that fact. He just wanted Reggie's parents to stop fighting all the time, Alex’s parents get over their old age ways, and his own parents to just understand it’s going to work.

Alex frowned at the thought, knowing everyone had their own reason past the love for music and why they needed a gig.

“She’ll never make it back on the dance team, they’ll have to have try-outs,” a group of “shit-heads” as Bobby would call them came into the locker room. Alex and Luke knew they were talking about (Y/N), which pissed them off and how funny they found the poor girl's pain.

But something else was rattling in Luke’s brain.

Try-outs.

“Alex,” Luke’s infectious smile was back as he grabbed the top of the stall Alex was in, pushing himself up and holding himself there as he watched his friend with a goofy laugh.Alex fell backwards, looking up at Luke with his gym shorts barely on all the way.

“We hold try-outs for the dancers, get our own dance team.”

Alex shook his head, standing back up and pulling the pants up all the way while looking up at his friend.

“We don’t know anything about dance, plus who would try-out for our band,” Alex opened the door of the stall, Luke still keeping his grip and the door swung back.

“The dance team is super picky, anyone not on it will take any opportunity they can get,” Luke jumped down, finally moving to his bag to change into his own gym shorts.

“I don’t know Luke.”

It wasn’t the wrose plan, Alex could agree on that but realistically it would be hard and while they did have time with it being September and all it wasn’t going to be easy to make the whole thing come to life.

Sunset Curve’s music at the moment was good for head bumping but a serious dance routine would take some work from everyone.

“Let’s ask Reggie and Bobby before we decide?”

Alex watched Luke bite his lip and give his best puppy dog eyes.

“I can work with that.”

“I dig it,” Reggie gave a goofy smile and bit into the apple that he was just attempting to juggle seconds ago. Luke jumped in his seat, smiling widely as 1/2 of the group had said they liked the idea.

“What inspired this idea?” Bobby asked, shrugging as he stole a chip from Alex bag, which caused Alex to roll his eyes.

Luke simply turned around, doing his best to hide the fact he was watching (Y/N) as she looked to be in a heated discussion with the dance team captain, Megan Ray, who looked broken about the discussion but standing her ground.

“Someone mentioned they’d have to replace her with try-outs in the locker room,” Luke muttered, watching as the girl jabbed her finger into the table. most likely trying to make her way back on the team.

“I feel so bad for her,” Bobby muttered, trying to imagine a world where he couldn’t rock out with his friends because of a freak accident.

“Me too, she’s really smart too. Basically saved me in Chemistry last year,” Reggie looked away from the girl, someone he’d considered a good person hurting so bad for something no one could fix.

Once the girl stood up from the chair, trying her best not to draw too many eyes, was when Luke went back to the plan.

“It’ll work like a dream,” Luke muttered, already pulling a piece of paper out with his chick scratch and a sad worked out calendar.

“How do you read that?”

Luke stood up and smacked Alex with the paper, easily going back to the plan.

“I talked to Coach Edison and he said the Gym is free this Friday, plenty of time to get the word out,” Luke smiled at the easily done, but still done, the research he had done.

“What will we make them dance to?”

“Now or Never,” Luke spoke with a shrug.

“Sounds well thought out,” Reggie spoke absentmindedly, trying to remember a thought he just had but lost.

“Come on, we gotta show everyone who doubts us we mean something.”

Luke didn’t know if it was that sentence that struck a chord with them but they all seemed to slowly feed into Luke’s words more after that.

“Peter?”

Reggie turned at the call of his last name, smiling once he saw (Y/N) standing behind him at the table.

“(Y/N)!”

Reggie's smile was contagious as he smiled up at the girl, doing his best to avoid talking about the leg injury, he knew if something happened to his finger and he couldn’t play bass again he wouldn’t want to talk about it.

“Do you have the notes of Henderson’s class? He’s making me take all the quizzes I missed this Friday after school,” she muttered, nodding her head to the other boys as they watched her.

“That sucks, I can give them to you last period.” She gave a quick smile as a thank you, smiling to the other boys before heading back to the table she sat at before with a few other girls they had seen her around the halls with.

“Can’t believe Henderson would be that harsh,” Bobby shivered as if scared at the thought of taking that many quizzes in one sitting.

“He hates anyone who doesn’t do classic field, probably blames her for the fall,” Reggie muttered, finally making it to the core of his apple.

“What! It wasn’t her fault,” Luke jumped in, trying his best to keep his voice down.

“We don’t think that, now chill,” Alex waved at the few girls that had looked their way at the outburst.

Once everything died down, Alex and Bobby both nodded to one another, then looking at Luke.

“This Friday it is.”

“This is going horrible,” Reggie whispered to Luke at the girl before they tried to dramatically do a split but ending up awkwardly crawling on the floor.

“Thank you Sara, we’ll get back with you,” Luke spoke as soon as the music stopped, reaching over to press stop on the crappy camera they found deep in Bobby’s studios yesterday.

Luke’s finger slipped and he was too worked up to try and find the button so he simply left the camera one, waving as Sara skipped out from the gym.

“We’ll at least she didn’t puke,” Bobby muttered, still in shock and how easily the one boy had his entire lunch on the gym floor.

“That was a nice touch.”

Luke stood up, slowly walking around the table to stand in front of his other friends.

“This is going horribly! Where are the dancers in this place?”

“Probably on the dance team,” Alex spoke up, smiling sarcastically at Luke.

“How about we go to the vending machine,” Reggie jumped up, easily diffusing the tension from the room as the rest agreed a snack would be nice.

They all made their way from the room, all talking about the different dancers and who they thought might be best.

“Maddie was good, but she couldn’t choreograph an entire team,” Bobby waited as Reggie looked over the different options in the machine.

“I didn’t even think about that,” Luke sighed, slowly becoming more and more annoyed with this whole idea.

“Look-”

Alex was cut off when he heard the faint sound of guitar and drums echoing the halls of the old sad school.

“Does anyone else hear that?”

“What? Reggie’s head turning as he chose between M&M or Hershey's,” Luke felt back, laying on one of the tables in the cafeteria.

“Hey!”

Alex rolled his eyes, following the sound of the music, hearing his own beat and Luke’s voice sing from the gymnasium. He walked slowly, stopping at the double door, looking through the tempered glass at the figure in the room. He heard his friends run from the gym, meeting his side as they all looked in the gym at the same sight.

(Y/N) glided across the floor, her hands held on both sides of her head as she easily slid across the floor in her sweat pants. She moved from that to a split, easily jumping up from that and doing small little kicks to the beat of the music.

“Wow,” Luke watched as the girl threw her head back, eyes closed as she took in the music that the boys knew by heart at this point.

She clapped along with the music, looking as alive with the music as the boys did when they played. Once the beat dropped the girl attempted to spin out, catching her leg the wrong way sending her to the floor.

“Oh no,” Reggie and Alex didn’t waste any time before pushing the double doors open and running to the groaning girls side. Luke and Bobby were hot on their trail, sliding as they all huddled around her.

“Are- are you okay?”

She sat up slightly, holding her knee to her chest with her face showing obviously pain.

“I’m fine- Uhm, does anyone have water?”

Luke didn’t waste time reaching to the “judge” table and taking his own water from the table. He turned back and handed it to her, looking at her with panic in his eye.

“Thank you,” she let out a shaky breath, letting herself calm down while twisting the cap open.

“You really are an amazing dancer,” Bobby commented, thinking now the panic was gone would be a nice time to mention it.

“I was,” she spoke as she looked to her feet, watching her beat up tennis shoes with a clenched jaw.

“Uhm actually he means present tense,” Luke laughed, like the situation was funny. I mean he just watched her glide and smile all with her eyes closed.

She wasn’t even scared of being bad, she knew she was that good.

“Did you miss the fall?”

He knew the attitude wasn’t at him, he knew she had a right to be angry about her whole world changing.

“You were great before the fall,” Reggie spoke in a soft voice, hurt about watching her without permission.

“No, I was better before.” She looked up, taking in the room when her eyes stopped on the video camera that was flashing red light.

“Is that recording?”

Luke looked at the camera, jumping up and stopping the recording. He un- screwed in from the tripod and made his way over to her.

“Watch it,” he held out the video to her but she simply pushed it away.

“No thanks, just delete it,” Luke was shocked, to say the least. She could still dance, like really dance, and she was throwing it away.

“You’re just scared,” he challenged the girl, earning a harsh “Luke” from Alex, warning him not to touch that topic with a ten-foot pole.

“You’d be scared if you went through what I went through,” she spoke hurtfully, righting to say.

Luke thought everything over, he didn’t know much about the injury but that it was a torn muscle in the knee and that was the end of it. But something that tears can technically heal, he just didn’t know how that worked exactly, he hated science class.

“She has a point,” Bobby smiled at the girl, doing his best not to say the wrong thing.

“Well, face your fear!”

“Look what happened when I did,” she motioned for someone to help her up, Reggie giving his shoulder and helping her stand slightly. Her body was obviously still in shock and she was slowly taking his arm.

“We can help you! Join us on the Battle of the Performers,” Luke knew it might come off selfish, but he really wanted to help her fight her fears face first. It must suck not doing what you love, but she had a chance so why not take it?

“Do you know how hard that is to win?” She thought it was funny to say the least. The band was good, she wouldn’t be shocked if she heard them on the radio in a few years with some famous award, but people just as new and good to the scene would come from far and wide for a chance at this competition.

Plus, if they really wanted to win they’d find a dancer who wasn’t broken.

“You’ll find someone better,” she nodded to Reggie and let her leg finally work properly again, thankful she would add.

“Nobody we’ve seen is like you!” He was so close to her face, giving his puppy dog eyes like he would with the others, always getting what he wanted then.

“I’m sorry, but no. Have fun with the scouting.”

She nodded at each boy, slowly making herself excused from the now tender room as Luke felt his dreams walk away.

“She has a right to be scared,” Alex spoke, trying his best to see both sides.

“Yeah, but she needed to punch fear like she wanted to punch the dance team captain,” Luke pouted, looking at the girl who left without another look. He was hoping she’d come back like in those horrible 80′s rom-coms Alex watched so much, but she never came back.

He held the camera in his hand, looking at the tape that sat paused. Her face looked almost scared as she stepped in the gym.

“We’ll find someone Luke,” Bobby set a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder.

“Yeah, but we could have had her.”

so, should i make this a series??

#luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #julie monlina #julie and the phantoms #jatp x reader

144 notes · View notes

phytocondria · 4 years ago

Text

Secret Note #7

Quick thanks to my friend @coolcoolglasses for the texting idea and help with Maru's nicknames. I really liked all the dialog in my last fics chapter so consider this a preview/extra for my next chapter on Ao3 whenever I get around to it. (Lil-nightmare is my farmer oc for context) p.s. the spelling mistakes are totally on purpose and not just me not knowing how to spell. (Maybe that too ^-^')

Word Count: 889 Summary: There's a mysterious note on the General Store's bulletin board.

Chicken_lord: dude wtf

StarR00-bot: Wait, what is hat?

*that

Lil-nightmare: Looks like it’s torn out of something

Chicken_lord: idk it was hangin on pierre’s

Lil-nightmare: What’s it say anyways?it doesn’t look like pierre’s normal stationary though

(maybe from a notebook)

StarR00-bot: Or a diary, I can’t make out who's handwriting it is though.

You need a new phone, the camera on yours is a potato dude

Chicken_lord: phones fine brains.

i’ll text what it says in a min

morris has been on our ass lately

Lil-nightmare: Sounds like an hr violation ;P

StarR00-bot: 😱

Gross

Chicken_lord: psssh, he wishes

StarR00-bot: fair, even you have standards

Lil-nightmare: Why do you still work there? You knowthe farms big enough I could hire you on permanently ?

Chicken_lord: and give you a excuse to boss me around

Lil-nightmare: Hey, I'm a cool boss.

I only require your eternal fidelity, and you can keep your first born

Chicken_lord is typing….

StarR00-bot: lol

We both know it’s because Charlie would be mad he’s cheating on her

Lil-nightmare: True, true.

Charlie would be heartbroken knowing you’re meeting with other chicks

StarR00-bot: With a hole other hen house? :0

*whole

How could you?!

Lil-nightmare: Probably smell of void essence on your clothes

StarR00-bot: Catching tbe feathers in your hair

*the

Chicken_lord: there are only a few older bachelors in town none of them are perfect harvey is really anxious and weak but he’d make a loyal and devoted husband he likes coffee and pickles

elliott is a bit foppish and melodramatic but he has anice chin he likes crab cakes and pomegranates

shane is messy and anti-social but I think his gruff exterior is a defense mechanism insulating his softness from the world he likes peer pizza and pepper poppers

Lil-nightmare: DA FRICK!?!?!?!?

StarR00-bot: sdhzxvbkj...

I’m wheezing

wtf?

Chicken_lord: thats what i said

like f***

imagine walking past and seeing this on your way towork

Lil-nightmare: HOLY FATHER OF YOBA. WHO WROTE THAT?!!?

StarR00-bot: And it was on pierre’s?

Chicken_lord: yup

Lil-nightmare: WHY THOUGH?

StarR00-bot: I feel like my brother has something to do with this -.-’

Chicken_lord: your bothers got the hots for older dudes?

Lil-nightmare: dskjcjvh, stop!

StarR00-bot: I mean he’s got the dady issues for that, but no

*daddy issues

Lil-nightmare: scxzfvuk

Chicken_lord: fuk...

good one roostar

Lil-nightmare: I hate all of this

Shane I’m blaming you

StarR00-bot: I meant him or Abi probably put it up

Sounds like something they do, yk

Chicken_lord: whatd i do

im the one with some weird secret admirer

StarR00-bot: And Harvey and Elliott

Lil-nightmare: … Harvey’s not weak though

Chicken_lord: nope

stopping you there

StarR00-bot: same

Don’t need to know that bout my boss

Lil-nightmare: ???

Wait

F*** you guys

I meant figuratively

But also, he’s been helping around the farm more :/

Chicken_lord: don’t need to here you simping over the doc either

Lil-nightmare: SEE THIS IS WHY I CAN ONLY BE NICE TO MARU

StarR00-bot: xD

Chicken_lord: yeah yeah im a a**hat

StarR00-bot: Lol, I’m just the favorite

Chicken_lord: do you mind getting back to whoever wants to workshopme and the doc

StarR00-bot: *sent is a gif of courage the cowardly dog villain saying “you’re not perfect”*

I think someone trying to neg you in their diary

*is

Lil-nightmare: Yeah

I mean messy?

Like they know your room is messy or just your whole deal?

Cause I mean…

Chicken_lord: *gif of someone slowly raising a middle finger in frame*

Lil-nightmare: I mean old you

(mostly)

Cause they also sad beer and not sparkling water

StarR00-bot: Oh yeah, plus you and Harv have been dating for how long already?

Chicken_lord: a decade

Lil-nightmare: *sends the same middle finger gif*

But yeah, it has to be kinda old at least

Chicken_lord: or someones a homewrecker

StarR00-bot: I doubt it

Lil-nightmare: …. 🔪

StarR00-bot: …

Lil-nightmare: So at least they’re on point with Elliot, I guess

And foppish is a weird word choice ya know

Chicken_lord: alex and sam are out don’t have the braincells for vocab

Lil-nightmare: Like aside from elliott, who would actually use the word “foppish”

StarR00-bot: I wanna say rude but I might actually keel over in laughter if I heard either one use the word

But yeah, probably not them or anyone in the note

Lil-nightmare: Or us and PROBABLY not any of the married folk unless… 👀

StarR00-bot: unless…. 👀

Chicken_lord: wat

Lil-nightmare: I mean…. Kent was gone for awhile….

StarR00-bot: nah, she might act mad thirsty, but she’s all talk according to mom

Lil-nightmare: Fair, plus turns out caroline maybe

Actually nvm, i don’t actually know know, yk?

StarR00-bot: NO WAY DOSH

*dish

preedy, pweese 🥺👉👈

Chicken_lord: ugh, your promised no more uwu talk brains

StarR00-bot: Lol

Lil-nightmare: I’ll tell you next time, but lips sealed Roo

StarR00-bot: 🙊

Promise

Chicken_lord: you guys can gossip without me

just wanted to show the weird note but my shifts starting

StarR00-bot: Ok bye, have fun feeding the capitalist machine :D

Chicken_lord: *middle finger gif again*

Lil-nightmare: Hey brng the note over later

(Maybe I’ll recognize the handwriting)

StarR00-bot: Ooooh you guys on the case of who done it?

Chicken_lord: eh not that committed nancy drew

Lil-nightmare: Come on, I got some peppers that nee testing

Plus MochI misses you (and Jas, bring Jas. I haven't seen in her in too long T.T)

Chicken_lord: maybe

#sdv oc #sdv maru #sdv shane #stardew valley farmer #stardew valley #stardew valley writing #my writing #sdv writing #stardew maru #stardew shane

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urban-homesteading · 4 years ago

Photo

Making Money from a Mini Farm: A Series

Selling fertilized eggs

Step one: Chose what you are going to sell

If you are selling fertilized eggs, then all you need is a flock of hens and the appropriate number of roosters. But non pure bred eggs will bring a very low price and you might only be able to sell small numbers of these eggs. It is much better to chose a breed of chickens and then keep only those in your flock. Although you could always keep more than one breed, that would necessitate confining your chickens, which is not something I recommend.

Rarer breeds and colors will bring more money. Shipping eggs is pricey, so you will need chickens rare enough to make it worth it for your buyer.

Step two: The legalities

Your flock must be certified by the National Poultry Improvement Plan for you to legally ship hatching eggs. Most states also require a health permit as well as pullorum and typhoid testing. Talk with your county extension agent or your state’s NPIP representative to find out what you need. There are hefty fines for illegal egg peddling, so don’t omit this step!

Step three: Marketing

If you don’t want to deal with the hassle of shipping, sell locally. Pin notices on bulletin boards at veterinary offices and feed and farm-supply stores, and take out classified ads either in newspapers or online—such as Craigslist (Facebook often does not allow the sale of any animals).

If you’re willing to ship eggs, list them at online poultry auctions, such as EggBid, FeatherAuction.com and Rare Breed Auctions. You can also sell eggs at eBay and Amazon. There are several hatching egg groups at Facebook worth investigating, as well. While you’re there, run a search for Facebook groups devoted to the breeds you’re selling. Join and find people interested in buying.

When you place ads, be very explicit about what you’re selling. Point out how many eggs you’ll send. Eggs are usually sold in groups of 6, 8, 10, 12, 24 or 36. You can also include extra eggs to offset any eggs damaged during shipping. Including extras at the rate of one extra per six eggs ordered is a good idea: Seasoned buyers expect it, and it promotes good will. If you don’t plan to send extras, say so.

Hatching eggs are normally sold without guarantee. Even if you send fresh, fertile eggs, they can easily be damaged during shipping or your buyer may not incubate them correctly. Buyers usually expect a 40 to 80 percent hatch from shipped eggs.

Step three: Gathering your precious cargo

Washing eggs removes their protective bloom, so keep them clean by lining nest boxes with plenty of bedding, changing it as often as needed and collecting eggs several times a day. Carry eggs gently to the house. A towel-lined basket is good for this. Sort the eggs and store the ones you’ll sell as hatching eggs large-end-up in a clean, closed carton between 55 to 70 degrees F and at roughly 75 percent humidity.

You’ll need a hygrometer to make sure your room’s humidity reading is in or near the ballpark. Pick one up at a drugstore or online, and follow the instructions. It’ll show your room’s humidity level as a percentage. Boost the humidity, if necessary, by placing a small bowl of water beside the carton. Elevate one end of the carton by slipping a book or block of wood under it. The following day, move the book to the other end, alternating ends until you ship the eggs. This keeps the yolks from sticking to one side of their shells.

When sorting, set aside well-shaped, average-sized eggs as hatching eggs. Avoid large eggs that might be double-yolkers—these rarely hatch—and unusually small eggs, as they tend to produce small, weak chicks. Remove any with bumped, wrinkled or otherwise flawed shells and any with hairline cracks. A tiny amount of soiling is usually acceptable, but it’s better to send clean eggs. Remember not to wash them, though! You can use a soft bristle tooth brush to gently brush at any crusted dirt, but only give a couple of swipes as to protect the bloom.

Step four: Shipping

Once you’ve sold your eggs, package them carefully and don’t skimp on wrapping material. Many shippers favor bubble wrap and shredded paper. They carefully wrap each egg in bubble wrap, leaving the ends open for air circulation, then pack them in a mailing carton with lots of shredded paper cushioning in between.

Eggs can be packed in any type of cardboard carton large enough to allow for plenty of cushioning material, but it’s hard to beat flat-rate priority boxes from the U.S. Postal Service, which ship to any state at any weight at a fixed price. They’re sturdy, free and sized exactly right for most shipments. A medium-size box is great for up to 15 eggs and costs about $14 to mail; the large flat-rate box holds up to two dozen and ships for about $19.

It never hurts to package incubating instructions in every package. Shipped eggs should be rested for 24 hours at room temperature before being placed in an incubator or under a broody hen. A good way to handle this step is to print copies of a university-generated bulletin about incubating chicken eggs and tuck one in each box.

The USPS is the only carrier that ships hatching eggs, so plan to mail your package via priority rate or, if the buyer chooses to pay extra for shipping, overnight mail. Write “Fragile—Hatching Eggs” somewhere on the carton and also “Do Not X-Ray,” as the postal X-ray machine’s rays could affect the hatchability rate. Ask your buyer if he or she wants the post office to hold the eggs for pickup rather than exposing them to a bumpy ride in the carrier’s delivery vehicle; if so, mark the carton, “Hold for Pick-up: Call (your buyer’s phone number).”

Contact your buyer to let him or her know the package is on its way and provide the tracking number from your priority mail receipt. Ask them to contact you when the eggs arrive and again after they hatch.

#chicken #hen #chick #rooster #chickens #hens #roosters #chicks #hobby farms #farming #livestock #mini farm

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sdv-hiddenfarm · 5 years ago

Text

Thank you so much, @runawayface! I was crying before I even read the story...thank you for the kind words on the Stories series. I appreciate them, and they inspire me!

Readers, this is very much like the Stories series. It’s mostly focused on the villagers, all in-character and full of charm. It’s a longer fic, 12 pages/4500+ words, and it is 100% worth reading.

To: girljen/sdv-hiddenfarm

From: runawayface

Title: New Farmer Stories

Word Count: 4,537

Summary: It’s not every day that a new resident is coming to Pelican Town, so when a notice appears on the town bulletin board to announce the arrival of a new farmer, the villagers all have a wide range of reactions to such momentous news. Most are excited, others are not, but there is no escaping the hysteria that takes over the town at the prospect of someone new.

Notes: I’m inspired by the Stories collection on AO3, they are each a true masterpiece. The way each character is fully fleshed out and written with a personality that both nods to canon as well as being given their own unique twist… it’s masterful. I hope that I can do justice to your work, it is nothing short of awe-inspiring how fluidly you are able to weave so many wonderful and unique characters together in your stories. Thank you for what you bring to the community.

*Please look for accompanying artwork for this piece from @coindraws, we collaborated for fic/artwork for you!

ATTN: RESIDENTS OF PELICAN TOWN

As Mayor of Pelican Town, I am happy to announce that a new resident will be joining our community next week! Her name is Michele (granddaughter of Duncan, for those who remember him) and she will be moving into the old farmhouse at Hidden Farm. Please make her feel welcome in our community and help her adjust to life in Pelican Town.

-Mayor Lewis

The notice had been tacked onto the community bulletin board on a large, bright purple piece of paper during the middle of the night. Pierre was the first to notice this large announcement when he awoke on this cold winter morning and shuffled outdoors to brush the snow from his doorstep. Announcements on large, bright purple paper were usually from Mayor Lewis himself and it almost always meant that something important was happening in Pelican Town. When Pierre noticed this new announcement, he very quickly ran indoors to grab Caroline and Abigail who were in the kitchen enjoying their breakfast from the warmth of the family’s kitchen. The three of them rushed outside and read the notice together, their jaws collectively agape as they processed the news that they had just read… someone new was coming to Pelican Town.

It didn’t take long for such momentous news to spread through the town like wildfire, especially with Caroline on the case. Calls were made all across town and within the hour, the town square was packed as the residents all shuffled out of their homes to see the announcement for themselves. It wasn’t every day that a new resident was coming to town and all the villagers of Pelican Town couldn’t wait to start speculating about the new farmer and how this new addition could drastically shift the town dynamic. In such a small town, even one person could easily change the entire dynamic of the town for better or for worse.

“A new resident, I can’t believe it!” Caroline gushed excitedly to Marnie and Jodi. The three ladies had excused themselves to a corner of town square to start chatting about the new farmer almost immediately.

“Thanks so much for calling us,” Jodi said to Caroline, looking appreciative.

“You were my first phone call, Jodi,” Caroline answered with a wink. Then she turned to Marnie. “And of course, you were my second.”

“This is so exciting,” Marnie went on, trying very hard to subdue the anxious, giddy grin on her face. “Hidden Farm has been abandoned for so long, it’ll be nice to have someone finally breathe life into it.”

“I remember Duncan, he was such a kind man,” Jodi said fondly. “I hope this new farmer is kind as well, we could use more nice people here in town. If she’s his granddaughter, I would hope she’d have the same values as Duncan.”

While Jodi, Caroline, and Marnie were huddled together, trying to talk quietly about the new farmer; Pierre, Gus, and Lewis were standing right outside of Pierre’s General Store having the same conversation, however Pierre was making no attempt to keep his voice down and in fact was speaking a bit louder than perhaps he needed to.

“You know, Mayor, I was the first to notice your announcement,” Pierre bragged with a smug grin on his face.

“That stands to reason, as it was posted outside of your door,” Lewis replied matter-of-factly, as Pierre’s smug smirk faded.

“I always love new residents!” Gus exclaimed jovially, looking positively thrilled. “It always shakes the town up a bit, changes things around. It keeps things interesting.”

“Good for business,” Pierre went on, causing Gus to roll his eyes slightly. That wasn’t quite what Gus meant, but leave it to Pierre to interpret it as such. “I’ll definitely have to get in touch with my suppliers to let them know I’ll be needing to stock greater quantities of seeds. I’m sure this new farmer and I will get to know each other very well once they start needing to purchase seeds for the farm.”

“Unless they get them from JojaMart,” Lewis commented with a frown, causing Pierre to lose a bit of color in his face.

Next to Pierre’s shop, Doctor Harvey was craning his neck over Pierre’s shoulder to see the announcement better, he was one of the last to be called about this new development and was still trying to figure out exactly what was going on throughout the commotion. When Maru spotted Harvey trying to read the note, she quickly rushed over to him.

“Doctor!” Maru called out to him from across the crowd. She gently excused her way through the crowd until she had reached the clinic, followed closely by her mother and father.

“Ah, Maru!” Harvey said cordially, giving her a small wave. “Robin and Demetrius as well, nice to see you all this morning.”

“Crazy stuff about the new farmer, right?” Maru asked excitedly, nearly bouncing on the tips of her toes in excitement.

“I’ve only just heard about it,” Harvey replied, still glancing at the notice on the bulletin board. “I stepped out the clinic door to find a mass of people outside, for a moment I thought there was a community event I’d forgotten about!”

“Nope, just everyone losing their minds over some fresh blood!” Robin commented with a smirk.

“I try to avoid anything that leads to fresh blood,” Harvey replied with a deadpan expression, though Demetrius burst out laughing.

“Good one, Doctor!” Demetrius howled, slapping his knee in amusement.

From across the town square, Maru spotted Penny sitting under a tree with Vincent and Jas, speaking excitedly to the both of them.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Maru said distractedly, still staring across the square at Penny.

“But you only just got here!” Harvey commented to the back of Maru’s head, she was already crossing town square to join Penny and the children.

“Hey!” Maru said excitedly, taking a seat on the grass next to Penny.

“Oh!” Penny squealed, jumping in surprise at Maru’s sudden appearance. “You scared me!”

“I’m sorry,” Maru replied, biting her bottom lip apologetically.

“That’s okay,” Penny said sweetly. “I was just talking to Vincent and Jas about the new farmer. Sometimes it can be exciting when someone new joins a community, but it can also be an overwhelming or even scary time.”

“I’m not scared!” Vincent chimed in, putting on his bravest face, though all he was really doing was just clenching his teeth awkwardly.

“And there’s no reason to be,” Penny said gently to Vincent. Then she turned her attention to Jas. “But it’s also perfectly okay to be a little nervous.”

“I… I just hope she’s nice,” Jas said quietly.

“I’m sure she will be,” Penny said reassuringly. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t we make some welcome cards for the new farmer this afternoon! We can use leaves and flowers to glue to the front of our card to welcome Ms. Michele to our community!”

“Such a smart idea,” Maru commented with an affectionate smile at Penny. “I’m free all day if you guys want some help.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you Maru,” Penny replied with a warm smile.

Near the tree where Maru, Penny, Vincent, and Jas sat making plans for their card, Elliot and Leah had stepped aside from the crowd to stand together near the river. Elliot was staring out across the river absentmindedly, he appeared very deep in thought, which wasn’t necessarily unusual for him.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” Leah asked with a chuckle. If allowed to, Elliot could easily spend an entire afternoon staring thoughtfully across the river. Leah would give anything for just a glimpse into his mind.

“Just pondering over how the town dynamic is drastically going to be changed with the arrival of this new farmer, and how their presence here will mold and change our everyday life in possibly new and exciting ways, the prospect of it is rather exhilarating,” Elliot mused.

“Yup… a new person in town will do that,” Leah commented with a shrug. She winced slightly at such a simple answer, she couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated sometimes when holding a conversation with Elliot.

“Michele…” Elliot suddenly said, the name escaping his lips slowly and delicately as though he were uttering a forbidden secret.

“Huh?” Leah asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Michele,” Elliot repeated thoughtfully. “Quite a lovely name, though I’m kicking myself for not remembering its origin.”

“I guess it’s a pretty name,” Leah replied quietly, trying to hold back the bitter scowl on her face. She tried to turn her attention elsewhere as Elliot continued to stare thoughtfully across the river.

Just North of the river, Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian were huddled together against the wall of the saloon. They, too, were speculating about the new addition to town.

“I can’t believe there’s gonna be a new chick!” Sam exclaimed to Sebastian and Abigail. “I hope she’s a babe!”

“Sam, don’t be gross,” Abigail moaned, tilting her head at Sam.

“What?! Is it wrong to hope that the new chick who’s moving to town is a hottie?” Sam asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“Yes!” Abigail replied with an exasperated sigh. “Sebastian, help me out here.”

“Huh?” Sebastian answered, snapping to attention at the mention of his name. He hadn’t been paying any attention to the conversation up to this point.

“Nevermind, you’re useless,” Abigail said with a huff before rounding back to Sam. “And you’re insensitive.”

“I’m sorry if I said something to make you mad,” Sam said honestly, seeing the pout on Abigail’s face. “I really didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine,” Abigail sighed, her harsh expression softening. “Just try to play it cool, okay? She’s a person, not a piece of meat.”

“What kind of meat?” Sam asked thoughtfully, his tongue sticking slightly out of his mouth as his brain reeled. “Salami? Nah, not salami, I just had that last week… Ooh, pepperoni! On a pizza!” Sam looked delighted at the sudden prospect of pepperoni pizza, causing Abigail and Sebastian to shake their heads. Sam was quite easily derailed.

On the other side of the saloon, Alex and Haley were standing together near Dusty’s enclosure, trying to distance themselves from the overexcited crowd.

“I just don’t see what the fuss is all about,” Haley said with a small huff. “Everyone’s losing their minds over someone we haven’t even met yet.”

“I don’t know, I think I get it,” Alex said thoughtfully. “Not a lot happens here, at least this is something that can shake things up.”

“I guess,” Haley sighed, folding her arms. “Could be interesting to have someone new here, at least maybe the town won’t be so boring for a few weeks.”

Alex nodded in agreement, anything that could breathe some life into this dull town was always welcome. He looked up and noticed that his grandparents were right outside of the house and he grinned when he noticed that his grandmother looked positively elated.

“Oh, George, there’s going to be someone new in town, isn’t that wonderful?” Evelyn asked, clapping her hands excitedly in front of her.

“Great, another new face around this town, just what we need,” George replied sarcastically.

“It’s exactly what we need,” Evelyn replied with a nod, glossing over her husband’s sarcasm.

“There’s enough daggum people in this town, we don’t need another one,” George spat.

“I think having a new face in town will be wonderful,” Evelyn went on positively. “Plus, it’s Duncan’s granddaughter, I’m sure she’ll be a delight. That old farm has been abandoned for some time now, it’s a shame to see Duncan’s legacy wither away like that.”

George’s harsh expression softened at the mention of Duncan, he had always held a great amount of respect for Duncan and even George couldn’t deny that it would be nice to see Hidden Farm returned to its former glory. Of course, he couldn’t express such a sudden change of heart in front of Evelyn, so he simply scowled and changed the subject.

“Let’s get back in the house, it’s freezing out here, Evie,” George complained, folding his arms across his chest for warmth.

Evelyn smiled knowingly at George as she wheeled him back inside the house. She knew George well enough to know that sudden changes in conversation were his way of agreeing with her without actually saying so.

While most of the villagers of Pelican Town spent their morning in town square, talking excitedly about the new farmer and already making speculations about what she might be like, others were not so enthusiastic to broach the subject. Shane gave the memo a quick glance on his way to work that morning, giving nothing more than a grunt in acknowledgement before continuing on his way toward JojaMart for his morning shift. Pam read the first half of the announcement and scoffed, rolling her eyes as she headed back home. She hardly saw what the fuss was all about, a new villager in town wasn’t enough to lose your head about. Willy and Clint had also seen the notice, but shrugged as they returned back to their work. Perhaps they could discuss this new development over a drink at the saloon that evening, but unlike many of the villagers in town who could somehow find time away from their work, Clint and Willy felt that their time would be better spent returning to work rather than gossiping in the middle of town square. Emily, sadly, had missed the announcement altogether. She had stayed overnight with a friend in the Calico Desert and wasn’t due to arrive back home until later in the afternoon. Emily would find out soon enough, most likely that night for her shift at the Stardrop Saloon.

~*~

“I can’t believe I missed such exciting news!” Emily moaned once she arrived at the saloon for her shift. Gus had broken the news to her the moment she stepped through the doors, he was too excited about the prospect of a new member of the community to contain himself.

“Apparently her bus is scheduled to arrive late in the afternoon on the last day of winter,” Gus said excitedly. “Mind helping me prepare a small gift basket for Farmer Michele?”

“Ooh, I’d love to!” Emily replied excitedly. “I think I can real quick knit a scarf for her, plus I’m sure we can find some treats around the saloon!”

“I’ll also need you to hold down the fort in the saloon by yourself for a bit that day,” Gus went on. “I’d like to deliver the basket personally, you know I can’t turn down the chance to welcome someone new. Doesn’t happen every day.”

“Of course, Gus,” Emily answered immediately. “I can handle things here, you got it. You should be able to hand Farmer Michele the basket in person.”

From across the bar, Gus and Emily could hear a loud, annoyed groan. They both turned to the source of the sound and saw Pam seated in her usual spot with a sour look on her face.

“If I hear the name ‘Farmer Michele’ one more time, I’m gonna throw this beer stein across the room,” Pam grumbled to Gus.

“Hey, c’mon, you can’t fault everyone else for being a little worked up, it’s an exciting time!” Gus said with a smile.

“They can be excited all they want, doesn’t mean I have to be,” Pam scowled. Gus simply shrugged and turned his attention to the other side of the bar to Shane whose beer stein was almost empty.

“Ready for round two?” Gus asked Shane.

“You know I am,” Shane answered, downing the remaining contents of his beer stein as Gus poured another.

“So what do you think of all this news about Farmer Michele?” Gus asked curiously. He swapped Shane’s empty tankard for the fresh one he had just poured.

Shane didn’t answer, he simply grunted and shrugged.

“Why am I not surprised that you and Pam are the ones turning your noses up to a new face around town,” Gus sighed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

From across the saloon, Clint had his head perked up, unable to stop himself from overhearing Gus’ conversations with Pam and Shane. He took a quick swig from his beer before turning his attention back to Willy who was clutching his mead.

“All this talk of the new farmer, can’t even escape it at the saloon,” Clint sighed. He was taken aback when Willy’s face lit up in excitement.

“Always happy to have a new face in town,” Willy commented, looking pleased. “Maybe the lass might be interested in learnin’ a thing or two about fishing from an ol’ fisherman like me. Fishing’s becomin’ a dying art and-” Clint immediately let out a long sigh and shook his head, interrupting Willy.

“Oh, for Yoba’s sake, old man, nobody wants to learn how to fish, give it up!” Clint said loudly, clapping Willy hard on the back. “You’ve asked the entire town if they want to learn how to fish, no one wants to.” Clint started chuckling at Willy, but Willy just shrugged.

“You just never know,” Willy replied cryptically, taking a swig from his mead. “Never hurts to ask.”

“Well you’ve asked everyone in Pelican Town at least a dozen times and been turned down, what’s one more?” Clint joked, elbowing Willy in the ribs.

Without missing a beat, Willy replied, “At least I’ve asked and been rejected, tell me now how things are working out with you and Emily?”

Clint’s face turned bright red and he mumbled a few curse words at Willy under his breath as he buried his face in his beer stein, leaving Willy laughing heartily.

Luckily for Shane and Pam, the remainder of that night was spent with very little mention of Farmer Michele. However, with each day that passed, the town became more and more abuzz with excitement and anticipation for her arrival. By the time the last day of winter arrived, it was almost impossible to escape the name ‘Farmer Michele’.

~*~

Robin arrived at the bus stop late in the afternoon on the last day of winter, ready to greet Farmer Michele when her bus was scheduled to arrive. Mayor Lewis had entrusted her to meet the town’s newest arrival at the bus stop while he remained at the farmhouse, working on last minute details to turn the rundown old house into a proper home. As Robin stood waiting at the bus stop, dancing anxiously on the tips of her toes, she could hear footsteps walking down the cobblestone path that led into town. She looked up in surprise to see a small welcoming committee consisting of Gus, Jodi, and quite surprisingly, Sam.

“Hi there, Robin!” Gus called out, waving his hand jovially to her. His other hand was clutching a large basket, filled to the brim with goodies from the valley. Behind him, Jodi was walking with Sam close to her side, he was looking a bit awkward to be there.

“Hey there, gang!” Robin said excitedly as they approached her. “What brings you all here?”

“Oh, you know I can’t resist the excitement of welcoming a new member to the community!” Gus said happily, his large, bushy mustache curling upward in his excitement. “I prepared a welcome basket for Farmer Michele, just a few things to help her get settled in.”

Inside the basket was a bottle of wine, one of the pricier bottles that Gus had on hand at the saloon. A few coupons were sticking out near the front, one for a free meal and one for a free drink at the Stardrop Saloon. Also included was a colorful scarf that Emily had made, a freshly baked loaf of bread, a tin of Evelyn’s famous chocolate chip cookies, as well as a few non-perishable snacks and other goodies. Gus couldn’t resist making a little extra effort to help the new farmer feel welcome, it was an exciting thing to welcome someone new into their tight-knit community.

“What about you, Jodi?” Robin asked curiously, turning her attention to Jodi and Sam.

“The kids made a beautiful card to give the new famer, but they couldn’t make it in person to greet her,” Jodi explained with a small frown. “Penny has them on a field trip in the forest today so she asked if I could hand-deliver the card personally.”

“And you, Sam?” Robin asked, the most curious of all. Sam did not look thrilled to be there and she had a feeling that he was here against his will.

“Mom dragged me along to help in case the new farmer had a lot of luggage to unload off of the bus,” Sam answered with a shrug. “She figures if she had to come here, might as well bring some backup in case the farmer needs help.”

“Well, that’s very kind of you,” Robin began, then chuckled as she went on, “even if it’s against your will.”

For a few minutes, Gus, Robin, and Jodi began talking excitedly about the new farmer’s arrival, it seemed to be the only topic of conversation throughout town over the last week. Now that her arrival was closer than ever, they could feel a palpable excitement in the air as they waited eagerly for her to arrive. Sam spent his time at the bus stop kicking the stumps of trees out of boredom and chuckling in amusement as snow fell off of the trees and landed on the ground with a ‘thump’. Winter was almost over and the layer of snow that had covered the town through most of the season was finally starting to disappear as the warm sun began to make itself known in preparation for spring.

All of a sudden, Robin jumped when she heard the sound of a large, rumbling bus engine headed down the highway right toward Pelican Town. Robin, Gus, Jodi, and even Sam all snapped to attention and stared down the road. The moment the bus became visible in the distance, Jodi danced on the tip of her toes in anticipation and Gus let out a loud whoop of excitement. They all stood back as the bus approached, giving a considerable amount of space to allow the new farmer some room to disembark. When the bus came to a complete stop, the doors slowly opened and out walked a charming young woman with shoulder-length dark brown hair, holding only a single suitcase. She appeared slightly nervous, though anyone would be under these circumstances. For a moment, everyone stared at each other awkwardly, poor Farmer Michele looked even more nervous as her welcoming committee simply stared at her. Finally, Robin shook her head back and forth to snap herself out of it and gave Farmer Michele a proper greeting.

“Hello! You must be Michele,” Robin said with a warm, welcoming smile. “I’m Robin, the local carpenter.”

“H-hi there,” Michele stammered, timidly holding out a hand. Robin took her hand and shook it rather enthusiastically.

“This here would be Gus, owner of the Stardrop Saloon,” Robin said, gesturing toward Gus who gave a small bow in greeting.

“On behalf of the residents of Pelican Town, I’m thrilled to welcome you to our community,” Gus said with a warm smile, handing Michele the gift basket.

“Thank you so much, that’s so thoughtful!” Michele said appreciatively, setting her suitcase down to take the basket from Gus.

“Over here we have Jodi,” Robin went on, signaling to Jodi who looked positively delighted.

“Such a pleasure to meet you,” Jodi giggled excitedly, extending a hand forward to shake Michele’s hand.

When Jodi released Michele’s hand, she reached into her purse and pulled out the card that Penny had made with Vincent and Jas. Glued to the front cover of the card were a few twigs and flowers that they had found around the valley and inside, the children had scrawled ‘Welcome to Pelican Town, Farmer Michele’ with crayon. Jodi hadn’t noticed until now that the ‘h’ in Michele had been written backwards, probably by Vincent.

“This is so sweet,” Michele commented with a smile. Jodi noticed what appeared to be small tears in the corners of Michele’s eyes as she read over the card.

“My son, Vincent, and his friend Jas made that for you,” Jodi explained. “They’re really the only children here in town, but they’re very excited to meet you.”

“I’m sure I’d love to meet them,” Michele said kindly, carefully stowing the card safely in the outside pocket of her suitcase.

“And lastly, this is Sam, Jodi’s other son,” Robin finished, gesturing to Sam. “He’s here to help in case you need assistance getting all of your belongings to the farmhouse.”

No one had noticed until now, but Sam was staring at Michele in awe from the moment she had stepped off of the bus, there was something about her that simply entranced him. When Robin gestured towards him, his cheeks flushed at the sudden attention on him, awkwardly waving a bit over-exaggerated as though he temporarily forgot how to wave.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Michele said politely, extending her hand once more. Sam’s hand continued to wave for a few moments before he flinched, realizing that her hand had been waiting in front of him for a handshake.

“Oh, hey, sorry, mice to neat you! I mean, nice to meet you!” Sam exclaimed, shaking her hand with as much enthusiasm as he had displayed when he waved to her, causing Michele to chuckle slightly. “Need any help with your stuff?”

“I think I’ve got it,” Michele answered, looking back at her solitary suitcase. “But I appreciate the offer.” Sam looked slightly crestfallen as Michele turned back to Robin to collect her things. She had her suitcase in one hand and cradled Gus’ gift basket in the other.

“We should probably get you on your way!” Robin said excitedly. “Mayor Lewis sent me here to fetch you and show you the way to your new home. He’s there right now, tidying things up for your arrival. The farm’s right over here, if you’ll follow me.”

All at once Gus, Jodi, and Sam began bidding simultaneous ‘farewells’ to Farmer Michele, waving excitedly as she and Robin headed down the cobblestone path toward the farm.

“Nice to meet you!” Gus called out to her with a large wave.

“Welcome to Pelican Town!” Jodi hollered, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Bye!” Sam yelled, a bit louder than he had intended.

Michele turned around briefly to wave back to Gus, Jodi, and Sam, then continued on her way down the path to Hidden Farm. As she and Robin left the path and stepped onto the soft dirt, Robin gestured toward the overgrown farmland and looked at Michele uncertainly, hoping the poor girl wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the sight of her farmland in such disrepair.

“This is Hidden Farm,” Robin announced in a slightly high-pitched voice, trying to sound as positive and upbeat as possible. “Welcome home!”

Michele looked out at the field full of overgrowth and debris and a look of fierce determination spread across her face.

“I’m home,” Michele replied with a nod and a small smile.

#stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #farmer michele #stardew valley villagers #all of them #this is great

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b0ysc0ut · 6 years ago

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Room headcannons? Are they messy, clean, sparse or cluttered? Does sniper have a room in base but usually sleep in his van?

Scout-

His room is a wreck. He sets something down and it’s gone forever. His bed is a mattress on the floor, he has a red blanket that’s almost never actually on the mattress, and about 5 pillows without pillow cases that are also mostly all on the floor. Scout has a mini bookshelf in his room, the top shelf has signed baseballs, the second has random knick-knacks that he hasn’t lost in the mess on the floor yet. Stuff like a couple Bicycle card boxes of baseball cards, an inhaler without its cap, a half empty thermos of water, maybe some silver jewelry. He has a basket for laundry but his clothes are all over the floor. The laundry basket is full of CDs. He’s got a Hot Chick calendar taped to the wall, and a bunch of Tom Jones posters scattered around the room, also taped to the walls, because the walls are metal so thumbtacks don’t work. Basically his room is messy and hard to walk through.

Soldier-

He doesn’t have a lot in his room because he doesn’t need much to feel at home. He’s got a pretty uncomfortable mattress on a box spring, with a thin blanket and one pillow with no pillowcase. He has a cardboard box full of things he thinks are worth keeping, but the things in that box are mostly strange things he probably shouldn’t even have. The ring finger of a bot, a bag full of an unknown person’s teeth, some animal skins. The box containing things like this is labeled “good stuff”. He has another box, but this one was a grey storage chest labeled "better good stuff" and it contains pictures of him and zhanna, and him and friends, and objects with real sentiment. His room is very bare.

Pyro-

Pyro’s room is a squareish-rectangleish room with metal walls like everyone else’s, but they by far do the most decorating aside from Spy. They have a queen sized mattress with cutesy bedding covered in rainbows and candy and other patterns of the sort. They have a bedside mini drawer with a ton of boxes of matches and underwear in it next to their bed, which is covered in stuffed animals that usually end up scattered all over the floor. Their walls are painted in giant splatter of colour like they started and had no idea what they were doing, but they clearly have fun with the way their room looks. They have a toy chest as well, but it’s not full of actual toys it’s kind of a freaky mess in there but Pyro doesn’t seem to think so. Nevertheless, their room is kind of messy but not bad.

Demoman-

Demo has a lot of stuff that he collects from travelling, but he has a hard time keeping organized so all his shit is scattered around his room. He doesnt put things on his walls, but he has a ton of family pictures on his nightstand. He may be messy when it comes to putting things where he'll find them again but he does keep all of his laundry actually in the basket. He should probably hang it up, but at least its not on the floor. He also tends to leave dishes on the floor or around the room. As well as dishes, theres bottles lined up next to his bed. Its his alcohol stash, but its out of the way. Demo is messy but it could honestly be a lot worse.

Heavy-

Heavy’s room has a king sized bed because he shares his room with medic, so they cut a room in half. Medic has his fancy desk with a comfy office chair in front of it. The wall on Medic’s side of the room has a bulletin board covered in health records and it’s where he keeps track of what he’s writing down. This room doesn’t have a ton of Medic’s important stuff in it because he just lounges in there with Heavy, but Heavy’s side of the room is decorated to look and feel very Homey. He’s got brown and black bedding that’s very soft and huge and perfect for him and Medic both. There’s a pretty Earthy calendar on his wall, in front of his own big brown desk where he sits in his armchair and reads or writes. Heavy keeps his room very neat.

Engie-

Engie’s actual room is pretty empty besides a pretty small bed and a work desk with a closet. To better count as his room he almost never leaves the garage, where he has a cot and a huge work desk with plenty of tools and scrap metal scattered all over the place. His chair in front of his work desk has a pillow in it for when he falls asleep working, and despite the garage being usually not the best place to sleep, he added a few nice touches. There’s a rocking chair for anyone who just wants to sit and observe or for him when he’s laying back and enjoying a nice drink, but otherwise it’s a pretty big mess and no one really likes to go through there and bother him for fear of stepping on something important or disturbing his work.

Medic-

Medic’s own bedroom is basically empty because he’s usually anywhere but his room and eventually ended up moving into Heavy’s room. Medic’s original room is mostly used for pet maintenance and bird storage at this point. I already described his side of Heavy’s room above, but he spends most of his time in his Lab where it’s set up like a mini hospital and then there’s actual lab stuff for testing and what not on a long ass counter. The lab is a fairly big room and he, like Engie, has a blanket and pillow in an office chair in the lab for when he falls asleep during work. He falls asleep busy less often than Miss Pauling or Engie, and when he does Heavy usually brings him back to their room. Medic’s messy on his own, but Heavy keeps him organized.

Sniper-

Like Medic and Engie, Sniper has an original room with not much in it, but he does usually stay out in his camper and if he’s not in his camper he doesn’t go to his own room, he bunks with someone else in theirs because he has literally nothing in his room. If it gets too hot or too cold outside for him to keep his camper comfortable he goes in the base. His camper is very cluttered but there’s not much he can do about that, and he has mostly dirty clothes all over the floor and a sink full of dishes, and it smells like unwashed adult man but most of the mercs are noseblind at this point. Sniper has a few animals that he lets wander around his camper but they usually stay outside because he doesn’t have a ton of room. Sniper’s super messy but he knows how to clean up he just chooses not to.

Spy-

Spy’s bedroom is thoroughly decorated because he insists on having the best of the best and he doesn’t choose to sleep in his smoking room because it’s not intended to be slept in. His bedroom looks hardly like anyone else’s and has dull red interior with a sleek wood floor. He has a queen sized bed with maroon and black bedding, and two wooden dresser drawers on either side of his bed full of simple things like old jewelry, folded masks, boxers and tank tops, a few boxes of cigarettes and photos of people from his past and himself. He has a big closet full of his suits and button downs because he hangs them up to keep them from wrinkling. Spy’s room is very well kempt and is one of the only rooms in the base that doesn’t smell rancid as hell because Spy cleans.

Miss Pauling-

Her room is a disaster area but she usually sleeps anywhere but a bed so it’s hard for her to frequently return to her room to clean it. Her floor isn't cluttered or anything but her bed looks like it was mauled by a rabid animal and she has a small work desk covered in pens and paper and and every drawer on her bedside table is open as if every time she used her room she was in a hurry. Again, like Engie and Medic, she has a pillow at her desk because when she does get the chance to sit down and work it’s for ages and she gets tired. Her room is pretty messy but manageable and not very full.

#didnt proof read this sorry i love you #tf2 #tf2 demoman #tf2 pyro #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 soldier #tf2 engie #tf2 sniper #tf2 miss pauling #my writing

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msnikkimoneypenny · 6 years ago

Text

DTR? (BRIO)

Define the relationship?

Because he is very possessive and wants everyone to know that Beth belongs to him. He has pictures of her on his page. His Facebook status says in a relationship. Hell his sister has even become fb friends with Beth, like all his pics of her.

But her fb page says nothing. Gives no hints of a relationship or even of a friendship with Rio unless mutual friends are involved. Her page doesn't even state if she is single married or divorced.

He boast about his boss bitch to everyone......hell anyone. Even Turner knows they are together. His homeboy at the precinct said Turner has 2 pictures of them side by side as suspects on the bulletin board.

He is happy. She makes him happy. She completes him.

But when he introduces himself to Beth PTA friends, they act shock and surprise not knowing Beth had someone.

And of course Beth would understand that Rio is hurt even though he is hiding it under a facade of being impassive.

And later on Beth insistence to Rio that they discuss it leads to a big arguement with him accusing Beth of being ashamed of him.

Which leads Beth to tears as she finally breaks down and talk about her insecurities. Beth finally tells Rio about the lady (Dylan) in the parking lot. She tells Rio how she was treated like a trophy for Dean to show off in public while he cheated on her in private. And now how she fears going public will only make her to look like fool again. If she goes public with her relationship with Rio, will side chicks come at her? What is Rio really doing with a woman like her? It could all be a joke. It's not Beth being ashamed of Rio. It's about Beth fear of looking stupid again.

And of course Rio understand what carman has put her through. And he soothes and removes all of her doubts about there being no one else.

So the next day, Rio smiles when he gets a fb notification confirming a relationship status from Elizabeth Marks-Boland. He hits confirm.

Shout out to Jasmin on discord for the idea of Beth's photo up on the board next to Rio's picture, with Turner seeing her as a big player too. A couple in crime. Its fucked up but still romantic and sweet in it's own way.

#brio #good girls nbc #nbc good girls

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retrauxpunk · 6 years ago

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hello my love - as a fellow Richard Hendricks bitch, could you perhaps provide me with some ideas of Richard in high school? Merci

hello!! I absolutely love the fact that I am considered a 'richard hendricks bitch' HAHAHA and to prove my right to that title here is eight hundred words on richard in high school that I managed to type up (on my PHONE) while on holiday and suffering from insomnia:

richard had been bullied in middle school due to social awkwardness/anxiety and being quite shy, scrawny, and generally 'uncool' but knew that the one thing he had going for him was his intellect, which turned into a major part of his identity/sense of self-worth

excelled in all the STEM subjects, was passable to decent at everything else except sports (which he was abysmal at)

had a lot of natural talent in his best subjects but didn't always have the best study habits (he'd rather spend his time on personal passions/learning than on curriculum-prescribed work) BUT reliably managed good marks by riding on said natural talent (and cramming)

wasn't great at English but enjoyed making up stories/daydreaming

read a fair bit, both fiction and non-fiction

bit of a history nerd too (thanks @alethiometry for this particular headcanon)

hung out on internet bulletin boards e.g. post-by-post historical fiction role-playing forums

built his own computers

dipped a toe into some quasi-black-hat stuff but was too much of a good person (and, let's face it, a wimp) to do more

was part of the chess club for a bit but quit due to not liking the whole 'spending time with other people in a structured manner' part of it

worked at a consumer electronics store during the summer to make money

was a generally nice/fine/unadventurous type; unremarkable apart from his shyness and prodigious talent (which he didn't really make much of a fuss of due to said shyness)

became best friends with Big Head; they spent basically all their time together. Big Head wasn't exactly cool or popular, but he was generally liked or at least left alone, and Richard was by extension generally left alone because he was in his orbit

had a couple of crushes on girls but never had the nerve to do anything about it

one girl had a crush on him but he was too oblivious to realise the obvious hints she was dropping

he considered himself unattractive and the opposite of a chick magnet, but thankfully never got too close to incel territory; it was more just wistful wishful thinking and the occasional bout of self pity, but mostly he was interested/satisfied enough pursuing his various interests to really be too bothered by it

was never homophobic, though also never considered that he might be anything but straight (except for maybe a week when he thought maybe he was gay but at the time it felt more like a runaway obsessive thought than anything else and he quickly forgot it)

wasn't that good on the emotional intelligence front, both regarding others and himself (though he was rarely mean to people, more occasionally oblivious/thoughtless by accident) but also was a generally mellow person aside from stress and panic which was always turned inward rather than outward so … he was basically passable in terms of how he was with other people

that said, he had developed a vindictive streak by now, which originated largely from being bullied but which also kind of extended every now and then to become a kind of prejudicial judgemental-ness directed at anyone who was cool/popular regardless of if they'd done anything to him … it's just that he was so passive/meek that this didn't really result in him doing anything

except for one time when a former bully started digging into him again, playing some cruel prank in which he basically catfished Richard by pretending to be a girl who was into him; in response to that, Richard got into the bully's email address and sent out a mass email to all of his contacts filled with false and embarrassing 'confessions'

(except one of those fake confessions was about drugs and it just so happened that this caused the bully's parents to get suspicious and discover that he did indeed have a drug habit, which caused him to he pulled out of school and into rehab; and while Richard never truly regretted this, he did feel guilty enough that he was somewhat put off doing such things, at least for a while)

in senior year there was a girl who was interested in him; this time Richard did notice, because she asked him out. he accepted mostly because she was very pretty and he was astonished/flattered by the attention; they spent some enjoyable but unremarkable/ultimately lukewarm time together and she dumped him a few weeks before prom

both dateless, Richard and Big Head decided to ditch prom in favour of spending the night in Big Head's basement playing video games and getting amateurishly smashed while Big Head's dad was away for business; it was a good time, though Richard secretly wished he could have had the prototypical dream prom experience (not that he'd ever say so, because prom is, of course, stupid)

graduation is a relief, the chance to get out of the confines of school and head somewhere to study only what he really cares about, in a place where people like him (nerds) are quite the opposite of outcasts

TL;DR Richard Hendricks in high school was exceptionally talented in STEM and was a socially awkward, shy, massive nerd who spent most of his time with computers, Big Head, or both

#hmm that was a lot lmao #anyway that's my hc #richard hendricks #silicon valley #sv squad #sv hbo #sv meta #my sv text posts #sv asks #anon #asks #silicon valley hbo #this was such a great question/meta prompt i love these questions

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preschoolplanet-blog · 8 years ago

Text

Chick craft ideas for preschool

New Post has been published on http://preschoolplanet.us/chick-craft-ideas-for-preschool/

Chick craft ideas for preschool

chick bulletin board idea for kids

chick bulletin board idea

Crafters of all ages and abilities will find something that they can make in this cute collection. Spring chick crafts make great decorations and are perfect for spring nature tables!

chick craft idea for preschool kids

plastic spoon chick craft idea

It is a little confusing as to why baby chicks are associated with Easter. Well here is the reason in a nutshell (or an eggshell) Eggs and Baby chicks are seen as a symbol of new life.

chick craft idea

chick craft ideas

However, once they are grown they are given to a farmer to raise. If you are interested in making some Easter Chick crafts, you will find some below. Have fun crafting!

chick crafts

paper cup chick craft

paper plate chick craft idea

paper plate chick craft

#chick buleltin board idea #chick bulletin board ideas #chick craft idea #chick craft idea for preschoolers #chick crafts #cracked egg craft idea #easter chick craft #farm animal craft idee #kindergarten spring craft #paper cup chick craft #paper plate chick craft #paper plate chick craft idea #plastic spoon chick craft

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xx-autmnlvr-xx · 6 years ago

Text

In this mountain town chapter 1 (reupload)

I posted this on @willthenewkid but I finally got an idea for the name and aldo-crangle confirmed the name for me :) so I decided to reupload it onto here!

Fandom: South park

Genre: drama/romance

----+----------+---------++--------+-----

Life never had much for me. I had that feeling for 7 years. Why I haven't committed suicide, I really don't know. I would like to think it's a sign that someone cares. That a force in the sky has a plan for me; but I know better. He's there, but he doesn't care. Why would he? With despicable wants and violent tendencies.

Then there's me. I always chase something to forget my past, to forget everything. It works most of the time, but when the high is lost I hurt worse than before. So, I keep searching.

As soon as my back hit the couch cushion I looked at my cell and cursed.

"What's up?" A chick asked, taking a hit on her edible.

"I gotta get going, school begins in 4 hours."

"Dude, I thought you was on summer vaca." A lanky guy asked, wiping his nose and sniffing.

I groaned, closing my baggy and putting it in my pocket.

"It was, it ended yesterday."

Pete took a drag of his cigarette.

"I actually forgot about that. Damn, I guess that means I have to go too."

"When you two coming back?" The woman asked.

"Hell if I know, you gotta go to work tonight anyway so why does it matter?" I scoffed, putting on my jacket.

"FUCK!" She screamed, scampering to her phone.

I took the distraction to slip out of the abandoned house we hung out in. I sighed and cleaned off some of the coke from under my nose and began walking toward my house. As I walked I heard Pete walk out of the building and to his house.

"See you later, conformist." He called, joking.

"Bye, goth." I replied, smiling a little.

I felt myself tense as I approached my house. I didn't want to go inside but I needed to change. I opened the door and closed it softly, turning around to find my father sprawled out on the carpet with containers and papers everywhere. I let out a breath of frustration and went to my room. I picked out some clothes for the day and put them on. A pair of skin-tight grey jeans and a black hoodie. I grabbed the coke baggy that was in my pocket and placed it in my nightstand drawer.

My door opened and my father came in, "H-hey, scamp. Where have you been all night? I w-was worried sick!"

"Why do you care?" I rolled my eyes and zipped up my backpack.

"Because I'm your dad? Why shouldn't I worry when my son doesn't come home?"

I feigned innocence, "oh, I thought you wouldn't notice because you was busy puffing your life away."

I saw him get upset, "don't you talk to your dad like that! You're the child, I'm the adult! You're supposed to show me respect!"

My eye twitched, "why should I respect someone that doesn't respect me?"

"You're just like your mother. Judging me but not judging yourself! Just fly away, your highness!" He yelled.

"Don't you EVER talk about mom like that!" I argued back, putting my backpack on and pushing past him,

"She was a hundred times the person you would ever be!"

"Then why did you kill her?" He snapped. The sentence pinched a nerve in my chest. I ran, making my way down the stairs and out the door. With my back on the door I looked at a blade of grass and fought back tears. I sighed and looked to my left when I heard a door open.

I caught sight of butters leaving his house, I noticed a bruise on his cheek.

"Hey, will! How are you this morning?" He called out, smiling like he always does.

"I'm fine." I answered, waving. Kenny came up to butters and started talking to him. I used the opportunity to start walking to school.

It has been six years since I came to this town. A lot of us are in tenth grade now. Some have been held back because of the horrible teachers. Some have moved away from the toxicity of the town. I don't blame them. I would move away too, if it wasn't for....

"Hey! Wait up!" A voice called out to me, I stopped, feeling myself shiver from his voice. The voice that held so much meaning to me. I took in a breath before turning around.

"Scott, how are you?"

He smiled, coming up to me, "I'm fine! I didn't see you any this summer, where were you?"

"Well I've been working." I said, putting my hands in my pocket, playing with the seams.

"That's weird, I've been to every shop and I haven't seen you."

"It's a night shift." I quickly informed him.

"Oh lucky! I still can't go out at night, because my parents think I'll end up getting mugged."

I smiled softly, "yeah, that can happen. They're just keeping you safe."

He huffed, "but I'm 15, I should be able to go out whenever I want!"

I looked at him and turned around, beginning to walk again, "maybe I'll talk to your parents to let you spend the night and we can sneak out."

"You would? Oh thank you, Will!" He got excited, smiling, following me.

When we got to the school, everyone was crowded around the schools bulletin board.

"What's going on?" Scott asked Nelly.

She was beaming with excitement, "we're going to have a fall dance!!!"

I tilted my head, "but isn't it the first day?"

"Yeah!!! The principal said that the best way for us to stay focused is if we let all our socialization and excitement out on a dance floor!" Bebe said, turning to us.

Scott and I sighed at the sound of a dance. But I know we sighed for different reasons. After the doorway cleared, Scott walked to his locker. I followed him.

He looked at me when he got to his locker, "my locker's 156, which ones yours?"

I looked at the slip of paper, "65"

His smile faded, "what?! We're not next to each other?!" He said, distressed.

"Hold on." I calmly assured, I looked at the locker on the other side of him and saw a guy with red hair open it, I walked around Scott and tapped the guys shoulder.

"Hey, here, take my locker." I commanded, holding my number out.

"Why should I do that?" He asked, looking at me firmly.

I made a step toward him, "it's by the teachers lounge so you can stay safe from the assholes. You can either take my locker or have a trash can be your locker." I stated. He made a noise and took the number, taking his books with him. I threw my bag in my new locker and closed it.

"Dang, Will. You didn't have to be so mean to him." Scott said, staring at me, concerned for the guy.

"Well he shouldn't have asked questions." I shrugged but I felt bad. Not because of the ginger, but because Scott didn't like it.

"So, what are your classes?" I quickly changed the subject.

He looked at his schedule he taped to his door, "geography homeroom, gym, trigonometry, English 10, earth and space, and french. You?"

I looked at my phone and let out a puff of air.

"We only have one class together. English."

"Aw that sucks" he said, sighing.

After we talked some more, the bell rang and a wave of teens ran to their classes.

"Well see you later, Will." Scott said, smiling.

I did finger guns, "see you in English, captain diabetes."

He laughed before walking away. I smiled and breathed deeply. I would never admit out loud that I loved him, but I repeat it in my head a lot. Every fiber of my being wants to be with him, but it's hard when I know he's straight. I sighed and walked to first period.

"Good morning, class. My name is Dave and welcome to algebra 2. I will not accept jokes and tardies. So if you're late you'll be sent to the office and if you try any wisecracks, you'll be removed from my class. Understood?"

None of us answered.

He continued, "now let's go around the room and introduce ourselves."

I groaned at that sentence and put my head on my desk at the back of the room.

"Let's start with you." He said. I heard a kid on my right clear his throat.

"My name is Mark and-" he began talking, I couldn't really hear him though, my mind was on the dance and how I could possibly talk Scott into going with me.

After school I went to the back of the school to have a smoke.

"Hey, will." Pete greeted me, sitting beside Michael.

"Hey, Pete. Guys." I acknowledge, nodding to the others as I reached in my backpack for a cigarette. They greeted me back.

"You seriously still attending class?" Henrietta scoffed, looking at my papers and notebooks that's in my bag.

"Well I want to graduate so I can leave this fucking town. Don't you?" I huffed. I was having trouble finding my lighter.

"You got me there. But I could always get my GED over at one of the big cities." She took a drag from her cigarette.

"Here." Firkle said, throwing me his matches. I thanked him and lit my cigarette, passing him his matches back.

"I'll tell you what, these conformists are plaguing this place more and more." Michael brooded, flicking some ashes.

"It makes me wanna implode into meat chunks." Firkle agreed.

I rolled my eyes. They always got to mention something about conformists, "so, you still wanting to be a coroner, Michael?"

He smiled at the thought, "Yeah. Took an internship over the summer. You still selling yourself?"

I flicked my ashes "I gotta earn money somehow. My father sure isn't gonna feed me."

"How does it feel having sex with strangers?" Henrietta asked, smirking.

I shrugged, "it's fine. Most of them just focus on their own need but they pay me good." They nodded

"Well at least they do that." Pete added.

There was silence for a moment. I praised the silence. The subject wasn't on me anymore. I wouldn't tell them if they were anyone else. That's one thing about the goths, they keep quiet about subjects their friends talk about. I respect that.

Firkle received a text and put out his cigarette.

"I have to go. Ike wants me at the second-hand shop."

"Have fun." Henrietta answered. Firkle stood up and walked off, his chained boots clinking with every step.

"I have to go too. Scott wants to discuss plans for the dance." I said, trying to smoke the last of my cigarette in one puff.

"Who are you going with?" Pete asked.

"Hell of I know." I shrugged.

Walking off I thought about Scott walking in the dance with me. Then I would find the nerve to ask him to dance. He'd be embarrassed and mess with his shirt. We would dance and my eyes would lock with his. I daydreamed about it until I got to his door.

I took a couple breaths and rung the doorbell. Scott answered and smiled.

"Will! Come in, mom made snacks do you want any?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you, though." I replied, smiling.

We went upstairs to his room and he began showing me outfits.

"I was thinking of wearing my purple button up and black dress pants but I don't have a tie that matches."

"Well do you have to wear a tie?" I asked.

"Well I was thinking that maybe a girl will come up and pull me by the tie and I really would like for that to happen." I felt my body tinge with the word 'girl' and feigned a smile.

"Well then does your dad have a tie that matches?"

"I don't know. I'll check. So you think I should wear this?"

"I think it would look great on you." I nodded.

"So who are you gonna ask?" He said, sitting beside me.

"uuh don't know," I replied quickly, shrugging, "you?"

"I don't know, maybe red but I doubt she'll accept. Then there's Nelly. I have no idea. I guess whoever agrees." He thought, looking at his ceiling. I nodded.

"Hey, want to play video games?" He asked suddenly. I smiled.

"Does a dog shit?" I replied. He laughed and went to his video games. We spent the rest of the day playing super smash Bros.

We was on twelve out of sixteen when we heard a female voice.

"Scott, honey! It's time for dinner!" Mrs. Scott said. He looked at the clock; 6:00

"Oh, I didn't realize it was that late," he looked at me, "sorry, will but mother has a problem with people eating dinner with us since Cartman."

I smiled, "it's okay. You enjoy dinner. See you tomorrow?"

He smiled back, "of course! See you at school."

I stood up and went down the stairs, saying goodbye to his parents and leaving the house. It felt like I was filled with hot sauce, I was shaking with the need to tell Scott how I feel. I did some calming breaths and checked my phone.

#south park new kid #south park oc #south park #sp new kid #sp oc #original character #original story

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auskultu · 7 years ago

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Valerie: Assassin With Balls

Mary Reinholz, Los Angeles Free Press, 28 July 1968

A sign on the bulletin board of New York’s Chelsea hotel asks if anyone has a copy of the play by Valerie Solanas.

You must have heard of old Valerie—she’s the tough chick who organized the male-hating organization SCUM (Society for Cutting Up Men), authored a misanthropic manifesto by the same name and used pop pope Andy Warhol as target practice for her philosophy.

Olympia Press publisher Maurice Girodias (first with LOLITA, CANDY, etc.) told me at the Chelsea restaurant that he had refused to publish SCUM last year—but had given Valerie about $600 on contract for a novel which she failed to produce.

Now, however, Girodias has changed his mind (“it took her drastic publicity to convince me") and will print her manifesto in paperback along with the elusive play—a little thing with four alternative titles: “Up Your Ass;” “The Big Suck,” “From the Cradle to the Boat;” “Up from the Slime.”

Realist editor Paul Krassner, who is looking very elegant these days in a pair of albino jeans (basic white streaked with blue) will provide an introduction titled “Wonder Waif Meets Super Neuter.”

Now—St. Paul is eminently aware of the ironies involved in the publication of SCUM and its friendly companion piece. His introduction puts down, among other things, the advertising industry which has numbed consumers to violence and notes that “it took the shooting of Andy Warhol for the SCUM manifesto to be published by Maurice Girodias, commented on by me and read by you.”

In other words, it took a gun to publish Valerie’s mighty penmanship. Concludes Krassner: “Be sure to watch for the film version, starring Christine Jorgensen and Mr. Clean.”

Before she went after Warhol, Valerie hawked her dittoed document on the streets (men always had to pay more than women who sometimes received SCUM FREE) and, from all accounts, seems to have made most of her living from panhandling. Oh yes. She appeared in Warhol’s I, A Man—a title which must have offended her.

All of this does not necessarily imply motive—it’s just that SCUM will now have a wider circulation. As for Valerie herself, Girodias, a melancholy Frenchman, sighs and says “I’m probably her first and last publisher.”

On a happier note, he adds that she looked “rather sweet” behind bars in her prison uniform.

Could it be that all old Valerie did was exhale? A week after she shot and critically wounded Warhol, I was in New York, expecting to see Anne Miller tap dancing down Broadway. But no-I was splattered with spit as I strolled along 12th St.

A writer had told me earlier that “everyone in New York operates on a high level of hostility,” which may explain Valerie’s hangups. But not everyone in marvelous Manhattan takes the environmental view. At least two men I met implied that her violent action was part of the lesbian syndrome.

Whether Valerie was the Village’s unfriendly neighborhood dyke seems beside the point. Let us not forget that Medea, Lizzie Borden and Ma Duncan could have been portrayed by Joan Crawford in I, A Woman.

So what, then, IS Valerie? Another “lone assassin?” A deranged female? The apotheosis of the Feminine Mystique? The flip side of the Kitty Genovese recording?

Some people view the attempt on Warhol’s life as symbolism, a form of guerrilla theater. Following the blast of real bullets, a Village group (reportedly a revolutionary organization called “Up Against the Wall, Mother Fuckers”) issued a leaflet in which Valerie emerges as the white female equivalent of Nat Turner:

"VALERIE LIVES!”

“Andy Warhol shot by Valerie Solanas. Plastic Man Vs. the Sweet Assassin—the face of plastic/fascist smashed-the terrorist knows where to strike—at the heart—a red plastic inevitable exploded—non-man shot by the reality of his dream as the cultural assassin emerges—a tough chick with a bop cap and a .38—the true vengeance of Dada—tough little chick—the ‘hater’ of MEN and the lover of MAN— with the surgeon’s gun—NOW—against the wall of plastic extinction—an epoxy nightmare with a dead super-star—the Statue of Liberty raped by a chick with balls—the Camp Master slain by the slave-and America’s white plastic cathedral is ready to burn. VALERIE IS OURS AND THE SWEET ASSASSIN LIVES. — SCUM in exile."

A few folks in Los Angeles responded to the shooting as if it were staged by Warhol himself. Exclaimed a journalist: “Can Norman Mailer top this?” Even the fact that Warhol was at first given a 50/50 chance to live seemed like a put-on.

About 12 hours later Bobby Kennedy was mortally wounded at the Ambassador Hotel and there are those who still believe it was just another bad commercial...

But back to SCUM in exile. As far as anyone can tell at this point, Valerie is the lone member of her female-supremcisst society. But to many, SCUM, as a group is much less dangerous than SCUM as an idea.

During my nine days in New York, I mentioned to several people that I was interested in doing a story for the Freep on Valerie’s literary bag. Invariably, the men would retreat a few steps, laugh nervously and remark, “You don’t BELIEVE in that stuff, do you?” Or, “Please don’t shoot me!”

A friend of mine half-jokingly refused to let his wife read Valerie’s manifesto, the inference being that a sweet assassin lives in every woman, so let’s not stir up latent tendencies. Well, that’s hardly news. Men don’t have a corner on violence—just more opportunity.

The difference between Valerie and a long line of violent ladies is that she has a political plan (namely sabotage and murder) for the elimination of the male—whom SCUM describes as “an incomplete female, a walking abortion...To be male is to be deficient, emotionally limited; maleness is a deficiency disease and males are emotionally crippled.”

Obviously, here is a woman untroubled by penis envy.

Valerie allows that all females have a “fink streak” in them but this, she explains, is due to living among men. “Eliminate men and women will shape up.” Or, Martha Raye is salvageable, but John Wayne isn’t.

Perhaps Valerie should have been called “the sweet Nazi,” but that would have spoiled the anti-Andy symbolism.

#1968 #Valerie Solanas #Andy warhol #Assassination #scum manifesto #1960s #sixties #60s

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artdjgblog · 5 years ago

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Innerview: Jane Lerner / Print Magazine Regional Design Annual

July 2008

Image: Gluekit

Note: Q&A on the Midwest's “State of the Union in Design.”

Question:

I am mainly interested in your take on the “state of the union” of design in Missouri. In writing the regional essay, I am curious as to your thoughts on the quality of local design and designers, the challenges designers currently face in your area, the kinds of clients you are seeing more / less of, the influence of local art schools and the new crop of designers, the effects of larger social issues (the economy, the election, recent flooding, the housing crisis)—really anything you’d like to offer would be illuminating. I’m especially interested in any changes you may have felt in your business since last year, either improvements, declines, shifts in assignments, anything…I am just hoping to collect some thoughts from local designers in your area on the state of design in your area, with a special emphasis on how your work has changed, evolved, improved, or been challenged in the past year. Really anything you’d like to offer would be helpful and illuminating, but don’t feel like you need to put too much time or effort into writing anything up! Answer:

Honestly, for about forty minutes each Fall, I let Print’s Regional Design Annual treat me to a view of what they think is the state of design union in Missouri and beyond these borders. But, do I use it as my design doctrine or bible? Nope, just reference per the moment and mild-mannered time passing. And besides, it’s always about a year behind (har-har). The rest of the year I barely flip a design magazine or book page based upon today’s happenings and I don’t interact much with other design unless having a ba-jillion images pass by me on the web world bulletin boards, the grocery aisles and department stores or when I watch movies and play passenger in cars. Oh, so then again, I guess I DO flip through (and flip off) a lot of design out there! And geesh, I can barely read most restaurant menus these days! I get confused and convoluted from a lot of design overload. Though, I guess I do care. I do celebrate design. I do love it and hate it on occasion. I do get too serious at times and then feel the need to step it back because I have to be a human being. Publications like Print must be doing something right being that they’ve been in print for decades now. And I might read it more if I could afford a subscription. But, I still think that all design is relative to the viewer who makes contact and then it’s up to them. Them being, both the general people and the people who really push the production, politics or peep show. But, mostly it should be left up to the uneducated design people (I mean that in the best way possible) that the end product is placed within eye-shot. They have to look at the whole spectrum majority of the junk, not knowing what is good or bad in design aesthetics, but what feeds them on a personal level or how hungry their pockets are. For the majority of my own nest-kick-chicks, that would be street level. I think I’m not too far off by putting my poster work in the same batter as that of street vending / food cart. It’s cheap, catchy, quick and not for everyone. But for those few minutes (or seconds pending on how fast you digest) it may or may not treat you right and then you pack up and move on to the next pickings. Sometimes you might want to try it again and that means a lot to me in this age of quick tastes and slick takes. On the other hand, I wouldn’t mind for each experience to be a new taste / take. In some cases, multiple tastes / takes in one bite. So, lots of different street vendor selections or even toppings? Maybe more like one big thing of flavored beans? Canned or candied? Of course the design hand-picked for a design magazine is done so by designers. They do a fine job, but is design all relative to designers too? Maybe we should start letting non-designers pick the work just for the heck of it? I think it would be a great experiment to see what truly works on a popular vote in the culture instead of designers controlling the pop culture waves of their own profession. Something I learned about this “profession” a long while back is that there is no good or bad design, only smart or stupid (I think there are “pretty” and “ugly” categories too). I find joy pulled from all sides. More times than not, I find more breathable life in things made by the hands of unskilled makers of things. Though, it depends, I guess. And for the most part, whether it is folk art or a church secretary’s thumb prints, the egos, arrogance factor and financial bullpens typically come in less shades of gloss and floss as well. Still, one can’t help but think there is a fine line once all the meat is boiled with any “design” job. I guess that is where my formative training and “I think I know it so-and-so’s” come to bite me in the rear. I try to not think, but end up thinking too much when these questions come. What does all of this nonsense say about the state of the union? Should we even care about a state of the union with design? I have no idea. Tricky question, nonetheless. Designerly reality hits when I feel that a lot of non-designers think they are designers and that a lot of designers think that they are designers too. Though, this has probably more-so been a “thing” with many since the personal computer came into play and that’s a subject that has been beaten to death. It’s good and bad and smart and stupid and pretty and ugly. Oh, and the ability to change colors and images on myspace pages and cell phones has got the “modern” world in a hoopla of cool-aid. Everybody’s got an agenda to style and decorate everything, non-designers and designers. Whatever and way-to-go…each to their own scarecrow. I try to stay out of design dogma, fads and politics for the most part. But, it can be challenging when the “profession” feels a lack of respect compared to what it may have had decades ago (I’m still a young pup so I wasn’t around, but I love to look at old makers of things working in a room without a compouter), when brains were illuminated instead of monitors. I’m not sure if this is my area of the box to bash. But, it makes for interesting passing through. And I have a pooter too. I stick to my guns as much as I can, but still it’s a game of roulette with each day cause I never know what I’m personally going to get out of it or if what I get translates to if he or she or they or it wish for tickets to the gun show. But, I try to always do my best work per that moment and keep true to whatever direction of the dotted line it fits. Unfortunately some days make for more paper dolls than snowflakes. Personally, whenever I pull from all things, the cannon of life that I’ve built and have come to know, this is when I’m tickled most within the work. But, it shouldn’t be about me and I am no specially marked pre-packaged product. A healthy dose of all angles and ingredients apply for this position. Design calculators are nice and all, and knowing what you think you know is more than just knowing as it becomes powerful like OCD to the core and every drip and wink of life becomes that. It can be fulfilling and it can also make you want to dive in a landfill. Anyway, it’s a strange brew and I’m best when I stir and just let it happen. And I’ve had to work a full-time day job (and some) since starting on my personal design odyssey seven years ago, so I don’t know enough of “much” to really qualify for this question. I’m in constant scrape for scraps of my own eye lids. But, then again, Print Magazine has kindly donated some fine-printed room on their pages the past six years for my silly D.I.Y. bump and grinds. As if I couldn’t confuse myself even more, I found out that Print picked a piece of my mind to help represent Missouri that I didn’t think was anything too special on a whole and now they want my opinion on the state of the union. Design is all relative even among designers. I don’t get out too much, but Kansas City has had a hot bed of art and design activity burning bright for several years now. And ever since I was making visits from the farm to the city as a child, I’ve thought the architecture alone in this town stands for itself old and new. Right now there is a lot of development buzzing and lots of expensive looking structures and changes filling out formerly anorexic lots and buildings. Supposedly we are making a dent in the landscape all-around with the arts, which is kind of exciting. And there is a great sense of hometown pride right now. Though, how does that add up in comparison to the higher crime rate, poverty, loaf of bread, gallon of gas or milk? Or, anywhere? I guess in designerly terms, Print will let me know for sure later this year what is exactly going on as they summarize the Missouri plot. All I know is that the loop is small here in Kansas City and I myself have somehow managed to remain fairly anonymous and out of the loop, yet have been fortunate to grasp a few goggles. But, like I said, I don’t get out much and I don’t get to do design full time. At times, and in these times, I wonder how some individual designers and larger design firms keep all of their monitors turned on. Maybe I should hang around some of these kids who are getting by on their arts and crafts alone and learn a trick or two? But, I will just keep riding my little pony now. I suppose the new crop of talent has been a constant for a long time with the Kansas City Art Institute being here and all. Though, many newbies come in from all areas of surrounding towns and other states, not just for formal schooling. And I’m sure the location between big college towns like Lawrence, KS and Columbia, MO draw in the post-graduates. It seems like a lot of people that transplant or migrate here stick around and drop anchor for a bit. The central location, four seasons and big-little city atmosphere help make for a comfortable stay. You can throw an iPhone and hit somebody who makes stuff or plays in a band or something in the area of the arts. It’s fairly easy to find kindred spirits, comfort and a bit of headlines if you’ve got something to say. And in some cases you don’t need to say much to get attention. But, I think that in most any city now you can find a lot of people who are pushing towards titles of artist, designer, writer, filmmaker and so-on. However, the “everyone’s an artist” tag line doesn’t bulge the waist line here as much as in a city like say, Portland, OR. But, I think that there is an edge here with milder mid-west manners and a cheaper and comfortable cost of living in comparison to equally-sized and more artistically-endowed cities. Still, gas and economy prices are rising all the time so added whoopee cushions are deflating a bit. But, cats are cheaper than kids so my wife and I almost have my formal art and design education paid off. Whoopee, for real. Though, most of the natty resources I’m in constant search of right now in my pockets are time, energy and clear conscience. In my own personal art department, internet advertising on social networks mixed with small town word-of-mouth and an incestuous music scene of like twenty people pretty much makes the concert poster secondary information today. At least it seems that way on some days…some days like today. And some days feedback comes in the vein of, “It’s alright I guess, but I think we’ll just make our own in OUR style.” I have no idea what that means, but it seriously cracks me up in a “you and me take ourselves way too serious” kind of way. Stuff like that makes me realize that all of this that I push and pine for means nothing when all the images are stacked up. I like the idea of the time line and of the paper trail with life and celebrating creation, but a lot of it can take life out of context. I’m guilty a lot. Fooey…I don’t think the concert poster is a dead art and I must add that I’ve had great response and clientele to work with here. To top off this tearful tier, I have no idea what else I could do. This is the only thing that I’m told that I’m somewhat “OK” at. When fitting their “style”, of course. So, Kansas City…I simply fell into the right position with you and I enjoy you sometimes and sometimes I don’t. But, that is how the hamster ball scuttles. Though, much of my smoke stacks have cut back collaboration with concert stuffs due to just wanting to take it easier on myself and to see where else I can crawl with this pile I’m sitting on. And I come back quick, up and down. I think there will always be an avenue for printed products, plus for a long while now the concert poster in general has become a pretty hot item. Though, that is not why I do it. I just do it. Out of the gutter and onto the milk crate. Regardless, I’ve taken a step back from my typical trappings anyway to just breathe a bit in life and to avoid burning my torch out. I’m also seeing what other areas to plow. Though, I think I’ve recently caught a bit of fire again and I’m burning my brain and yours in this windy waste of writing. Adding it all up, I’m well down my seventh well here. I like it, but I have itchy roots that dig into my country backbone woods. There’s a piece of me that wants to get a piece of rural property to see some stars again and have a little full tank of time making things shack out back. And just close enough to the city for a fix of my secondary roots here if need be. But who knows what the next wind will blow? -djg

#innerviews

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raven-olivia · 7 years ago

Text

Fresh starts...

Raven: I got way more calls than I expected and most of them were craigslist creepy. Now I was wondering where I went wrong with my flyers. Maybe I would have been better off putting an ad online, then at least I wouldn’t have to answer the phone this much. Do people not realize they could text me? Then no phone would be required. But I’m clearly not that smart.

I listened to the messages when I was feeling up for it, and deleted most of them without even calling them back. My phone rang off the damn hook, and we all know I wasn’t about to answer it and jump into that bag of worms. There were a few I called back, and wished I hadn’t. Horrifying was too tame a word. I needed coffee. All the coffee. So I went back to my favorite place to hide, ordered more coffee from the vampire behind the counter, (she was feverishly texting someone with a scowl on her face), and I noticed my notice on the board had been ripped down, which warmed my heart just a little.

It was one of those rare cold nights, so I had my hood up and the warm coffee in my hands was doing just the trick. I started debating putting up another flyer, because I really didn’t want to pay rent by myself this month. Maybe it was worth not eating to live alone, but then I’d also have to give up coffee and my favorite study place. I blew the hair out of my face and grumbled a little, getting up to replace the flyer on the bulletin board. I would force myself to listen to and reply to voicemails after I finished my coffee.

Liv:

That night played on a constant loop in my head as I spent the next week packing my stuff up and looking for a place to stay. I was never great at relationships but I also was never one to stray. My usual was for me getting bored and walking. And I rarely got too attached, which now I am seeing how that is not so bad of a thing. It was messing with me more and more with how close I came to stepping out on my now ex girlfriend. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer to that so I buried myself in organizing every box all the way down to the bubble wrap being laid and tucked just right into all four corners. There wasn’t a major hurry to move out because Nicki wasn’t coming back for another month but the longer I stayed in the apartment, the more I was reminded of our failed relationship. It didn’t help that I worked from home and was surrounding by all things that wasn’t going to be and what had been. Yup, the motel eight was starting to look good or even the offer to stay at Lacy’s who usually had three or ten random people staying with her. Or there was the offer from my on line assistant who swore that if I gave him a shot he’d make me hetro again. As if I had ever been straight to begin with. At the age of thirteen I was the one getting my hand up my older brothers, girlfriends skirt before he ever did. Yes, I started early, no judging. I had one hang up and yes I knew how pathetic it made me so that is why I had only told Lacy that I had never lived on my own before. I went from my parents house to sharing a place with my brother until he got married and that was luckily right when Nicki and I decided I would stay with her. Now here I was tripping on the thought of not having anyone at home. It’s not about the place, it’s simply about knowing someone is there. I gave up being locked inside those four walls any longer and bailed out. My choices were limited, since my car was in the shop until tomorrow. So I decided to check out a coffee spot that wasn’t too far away. I usually made my own because yes, I was so not about paying those ridiculous prices for a drink but now I was going to be all about it. A few blocks and a right turn had me entering the darkened place that I wasn’t exactly positive if they sold java or…I was leaning more towards it selling who knew what and was already creating a whole story in my head about it. Daydreaming was an EXTREME thing for me and before I knew it I was lightly trailing my fingers over the odd pieces of antiques and wondering around the small space. Suddenly I was standing before a bulletin board with a caramel macchiato in hand and snatching a ‘Roommate wanted’ page from it. Maybe…Could be worth at least a call I thought.

Raven: My phone started to buzz on the coffee table in front of me. It started me out of a deep thought on the ethics of death. I grabbed it off the table so the buzzing would stop drawing attention to me. The vampire rolled her eyes, which was probably aimed at me. This was one of those places that had signs at the register to get off your phone before you ordered. The whole place stared down anyone who got on their phone while sitting inside as well. It was one of the things that made this place feel a little like home.

I didn’t recognize the number on the phone it must have been from one of my flyers. I groaned internally. Going for the the power button to send the call to voicemail, but when I looked up at my flyer there was a girl standing in front of it. Not only was she looking at the flyer with her back to me, but she also had her phone to her ear, and was probably the one the vampire was rolling her eyes at. Holy shit. Not only did this put me right on the damn spot, but she was here, she looked better than anyone else had sounded one the phone, and she was here. In my coffee spot.

I suddenly wanted her to turn around. She was lovely from the back, great style, legs that went on forever, and here I was sitting in a hoodie and ripped jeans. Maybe I should just let her leave. She never had to know I was sitting here when she called, but what if she remembered my face. I’d look like such a tool denying remembering it. Plus, I hated lying.

I groaned to myself and forced myself to answer the phone.

“Hey...” I had no idea what to say. This was why I didn’t answer the damn phone. When things were spontaneous I had to flounder for damn words. What the fuck was I thinking? I could kick myself. “This is Raven...” I was going to say ‘Can I help you,’ but how the hell would that sound? “Who is this?” Is what I went with. And I was sure no one was going to want to live with me. It might not even be the girl standing there. I had probably built all this up in my damn head for nothing. I dropped my eyes from the back of the girl’s head and looked at my chucks.

Liv: It rang once then twice and I hoped they were going to answer because I hated leaving voice mails. I always sounded like a bumbling fool on them. It was probably insane of me to be calling some stranger for a place to live anyway. And now I was building this whole story in my head of a single white female version. Yup, my head always got twenty feet ahead of me and I was left scrambling to pull it back in control. I had myself in the span of seconds ready to hang up when suddenly a voice drifted into my ear with a tad bit of an echo to it and I was answering without thought. “Hey, this is Liv…Or Olivia, either works for me.” My words trailed off as I turned away from the bulletin board and scanned the coffee shop. There were two pairs of eyes aimed in my direction. One set was glowering at me and it took me glancing at the counter in front of her to realize why. I was breaking a cardinal rule and she had no issue with letting me know. But it was the other I was more intent to pay attention to. The rambling started as soon as my lips parted. “So yeah are you like right there on that couch looking at me?…I really hope so because if I don’t hang this phone up now I am pretty sure the guard here is going to bounce me out.” I aimed for a smile but I know my cheeks were flaming red with embarrassment. I had no problem talking to anyone but I hated feeling like all eyes were on me, even if in reality they weren’t.

Raven: I wanted to melt into my seat when the girl turned around. If I could have escaped I would have, but that’s rather impossible when someone is staring right at you. Not only was she staring at me, but the vampire was looking between us and growling. I gritted my teeth and tried to put on a smile. I was not so good with strangers, and even worse with spontaneous, but it was better than getting banned by the vampire coffee king. I don’t think get boss would let her tell you to get out of the store, but she would ignore the shit out of you and you’d never get coffee again. So it was as good as getting banned.

“Er…yeah, that’s my flyer.” I put down my phone and held up my hands to the vampire to show her I was off and she could stop trowing daggers with her creepy eyes. “Are you looking for a roommate?” I wanted to kick myself after I said it. Of course she was looking for a roommate, why else would she have called my damn number. Maybe she would just leave and save me the embarrassment, but I wasn’t that lucky and of course she was so damn cute. Not only was I diving myself a whole, but I was doing it in front of this well put together hot chick. This is why I avoided people. “If you want to sit down I can give you all the info quick. No pressure or anything, but then you have it…” Why was I still talking. What the hell was wrong with me? I didn’t even want to answer my phone and now I was inviting a stranger into my space and putting myself out there to talk? Did the vampire drug me? Maybe this was a bad dream like those ‘naked in front of class’ ones people have. I prayed I would wake up. Again, not that lucky.

Liv: I made a show of putting my phone away. Yes, I was being condescending about it but hell I didn’t deserve a death stare for my first offense here…Although, yes it was also my first time here and there was a sign up at the register about phones yet still I didn’t like being put in my place even with a look. I took a seat on the well worn but definitely comfy couch and looked at the one I had been talking to. Alright, so I had been a bit preoccupied with needing a place to lay my head but WoW she was stunning. Strong features framed a face that if I was of the mindset I could easily get lost in mesmerizing every part of it. With my…Yeah I had to stop my train of thought right there. Bad bad bad. Ok a mental inside shake and I was back in the present game and not still in the one in my head. “Yes, I’m looking for a place.” I glanced around at the few inhabitants. “This is a quaint place. I’ve been by it before but my ex wasn’t about the coffee life or well much of anything actually.” I drew my eyes back and smiled, trying like crazy not to seem antsy or crazy. Because I did get my own nervous habits that made an ADHD kid look like an angel. Talking was something I was good at as long as I didn’t start rambling or worse. “That sounds good. How about you fill me in and I will do the same. And just so you know, I’m nor mentally crazy, only emotionally.” And there started the rambling so I clamped my lips shut.

Raven: “I’m a little surprised you’ve been by it. It’s a bit out of the way. I don’t live too far from here.” Her rambling had me raising a brow. Not that I was scared off or anything, but I was curious as hell why she referred to herself as emotionally crazy. Hell, we were both sitting the serial killer coffee shop letting a little goth vampire bully us. I titled my head to the side, looking at her. She really didn’t look like she’d kill me in my sleep. “Wait, hold up. What do you mean emotionally crazy?” I sat back and put my chucks up on the coffee table, something that was so ingrained from sitting here it was more than habit. While I waited for her to answer I grabbed my laptop out of my bag and clicked on the file of pictures I had saved to send to prospective roommates, which hadn’t happened yet, as I had a mountain of voicemails to reply to, and everyone I’d already called back was creepy as fuck. I was really not good at this. What was I even doing showing a stranger this shit. She was calling herself crazy after all, maybe I was the crazy one. Against my better ‘stranger danger’ judgement I handed the laptop over to Liv. I was going to have to tell my whole two friends about this. No one was going to believe me. “This is the place. There are pics of the living space, kitchen, and bedroom there. There are two bathrooms, so you’ll have your own...” I trailed off. I was not a damn salesman. I had no idea how to talk anyone into anything. I was just trying not to keep this awkward. “I’m in grad school full time, and I work work as a TA.” I pushed my hand into my hair, getting it out of my face. “I’m not sure what else you want to know...so tell me about yourself.” I winced. I sounded terrible to myself.

Liv: So I was starting out of the gate in last place. I felt it in my bones. “Crazy is not the right wording. I should have went with stunted…Ya know, coming out of a relationship and all that fun stuff.” I groaned and shook my head. “Sorry, I do have a tendency to ramble. Especially when I am nervous. It is a habit that truly sucks.” I settled into the corner of the sofa, took the laptop and started going through the pictures while I talked some more. “Well as I currently said, end of a relationship is why I am in need of finding a new place. I can get you references from the building manager.” My shoulder came up in a half shrug and I handed the laptop back. “I work from home, freelance so yes I will be there a good amount of time. I’m a casual drinker, non smoker and I know how to clean but I prefer ordering out when it comes to food.” A genuine smile curved my lips up and I was pretty sire the rambling was at an end. “The place looks great and having my own bathroom would be a dream. My girlfriend was a countertop hog with all her stuff. So my own space will be much appreciated. Is there anything else you’d like to know or have I come off like a mental patient and you are only waiting for the moment I get up and walk out the door?” I ended that with a chuckle and tried not to start overthinking everything I had said.

Raven: “I’m in the same position myself. My ex moved out last week, but it’s been over for a few.” I gritted my teeth trying not to talk trash about the asshole. “He had to find a place.” It was rough saying it out loud. I wasn’t in love with him anymore, but still it was hard to go from a pair for the last couple of years to one. I laughed at her rambling, giving her a genuine smile. I felt something for her. I wasn’t sure yet. Sympathy? No, it wasn’t that. “So you don’t have to deal with me dating anyone for a good long time.” Now who was rambling? I wanted to kick myself. I was also happy she was unattached if I was honest with myself. I didn’t want to agree to one roommate and get two. I stoped when she said girlfriend and blinked a few times. I really fucking hoped she wouldn’t notice my ridiculous double take. It was hard not to look at her again. She was thankfully looking down at my computer and I prayed she didn’t notice. She was just a roommate prospect. I wasn’t dating anyone else while I was in grad school. So it didn’t matter how beautiful she was. I just had to force it out of my head.

“You don’t come off like a mental patient at all.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and chuckled. Goddamn I sounded like an idiot. “I’m a non smoker, casual drinker, and I’ll be out a lot at the library or teaching class. While I am home I’ll be working on my thesis. I can cook, but who has the time so I also prefer to order in.” I was trying hard to act normal, but I was pretty sure I was failing hard. She actually sounded like a dream of a roommate. “I’d love the reference from your building manager and for you to come look at the place if you’re up for it.”

Liv: I was nodding before she was finished. It was a relief almost that I wasn’t the only one going through a recent t break up. It made me not seem so out there with my constantly running off at the mouth. And what was more important is it seemed I hadn’t chased her away. “Nice, it’s almost too ideal…So do you have like shit neighbors or something?” I blew out a low laugh and just grinned when I definitely caught the multi blink session. And she was still game. Score. I very well might have a place to lay my head. For a second my thoughts got derailed when I watched her fingers slide through her hair…Nope. Stop. I averted my eyes and started talking again. “Sounds great. You just let me know a day and time and I’m there with reference in hand.”

Raven: I laughed softly, looking down at my chucks again. “No, shockingly no bad neighbors. I tried to stay far enough away from campus where I wouldn’t get the high turnover and the constant parties…” Shit I didn’t want to sound like I was against partying. I wanted to kick myself for sounding like an old lady or a nerd. “Not that I have an issue with a good party now and again, but you know, it’s nice to be able to sleep on occasion.” I blew out my cheeks. I was really not good at this and I was as bad at ending conversations as I was starting them. And all of a sudden I didn’t want this one to end. “Other than the few classes I teach, I’m pretty flexible. When can you get the reference by? Monday?” It was only three days away, and I would have said tomorrow, but I didn’t want to come off desperate. I was already looking at her more than I should.

Liv: “I can meet you Monday but if you want I can have my references emailed to you in case you’d like to check them before Monday.” Ok I was sounding too eager again but it was hard not to. Finally something was going my way and if I didn’t grasp it with both hands then it could slip right through them. Yes I had my glass half empty moments and I could easily turn into eeyore. “And don’t worry, I promise not to go all part animal on you. I value quiet time and my space…Most of the time.” And now I sounded like some seventy year old that went to bed at seven and was up by four. The overthinking was strong right now and I decided it was time to shut up and go. “Ok so I will let you drink the rest of your coffee in peace. It was great meeting you and I am excited about Monday. Oh yeah, you have my number, just text me your email if you want me to send those references before we see each other again.” I finally took a breath after all of that and did an awkward head nod before passing the snarling gargoyle guard behind the counter and making my exit.

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rebekahsremarkable · 6 years ago

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The Trip

Part One: I’ve Always Been The “Safe” Girl

My cursor hovered over the “Submit” button and my body tensed as if my feet were dangling off a cliff. This website made this seem like an excellent plan. Travel alone, but with a group of other loners through beautiful countries and cities in Europe. Have the adventure of your young life. Experience the world. It sounds like a soul-searching, heart-filling, great idea, right?

I suppose I should start by telling you all the reasons this was a terrible idea. There are the obvious reasons: Sex trafficking, theft and just general safety concerns- but there is much more to lose here. As much as I love to sell this Cardi B-like independence vibe to you all, I am not as Bodak Yellow as I like to convince myself to be.

For instance, when I was 10, I begged my Mother to let me go to a sleepover hosted by a girl at school who I didn’t even know recognized my existence. I was so stoked. I had it all planned out- I was going to wear my brand-new Powerpuff Girls PJ’s and everything. Those broads weren’t even gonna know what hit ‘em. My Mother sent me off with my very fashionable Little Mermaid suitcase and I was gonna do the damn thing.

However, as soon as I got there, I had my very first anxiety attack. What the heck am I going to talk to these little young women about? And, though this is called a “sleepover”, it never truly computed with me that I was going to have to sleep here??? What’s that about?? I just sleep on the floor in a room full of chicks??? What an odd concept. What about personal space??

It is probably no surprise my Mother got me twenty minutes later. The door swung open and I ran into her arms as if I was just released from a Disney Princess themed concentration camp. She welcomed me with open arms and took me home. As I carried my suitcase back into my room back at home, I figured I’d do my mom a favor and unpack whatever she packed for me.

I unzipped the bag and was immediately confused- there was nothing in it. I stormed into the kitchen, where my Mother was washing the dishes, and DEMANDED an explanation.

“Rebecca!” I said, trying to address my Mother as adult as possible. I slammed my suitcase on the floor, the front of it swinging open to reveal my discovery. “Why was this empty?!”

My Mother dried her hands, and turned around to face me. She put her hand towel down, and smiled lovingly.

“First of all, namesake, I am Mom.” She said, sternly while simultaneously chuckling. “Second of all, I just knew you’d come home tonight, honey.”

“How did you know?” I replied, almost devastated.

“Because I know you, sweetheart.” She walked across the kitchen and picked up my bag, zipping it back up. She handed it back to me. “You’re my smart, safe girl. I just knew you’d want to come back home.” She kissed my forehead, and patted my butt to send me back to my bedroom.

I sat on my top bunk, staring at my dangling feet. At ten years old, I was having an existential crisis. It hurt that my Mother knew my next move before I did. She knew I would retreat back home, not daring to go where I have never been before.

Well, present day, I stared at the “Submit” button on the monitor of my computer. I thought about that day and pictured my Little Mermaid suitcase. I wondered- am I still that little girl who would rather go back home than build a memory that forces me to break out of my comfort zone?

Before I could mindfully answer, I felt a force press my pointed finger downward. “Your Trip Is Booked!” the screen read. “You’re going to Spain, France, And Italy!”

I raised my eyebrows, and stared in terror. “Welp.” I sighed. “I guess it’s time for a new suitcase.” I shut my laptop screen and stood, looking around my room.

“I hope I don’t regret this.” ******************************************************************************************

Part Two: Colorado

Well, for the most part, I didn’t regret it. Though Lucas had the most open, vulnerable soul I had ever encountered and in my weeks with him I had felt happier and more secure than with any man before him- something was off.

Was it me? Maybe I was asking too much. After all, there was a love affair Lucas had that could never, ever be broken- the one he had with his career. And this cruel mistress was as seductive as she was resilient. She wasn’t going anywhere. And though I was able to share- Lucas worried there wasn’t enough of him to go around.

Sex was sometimes interrupted with a business call; dinner plans were left in the cold for charity board meetings. The rain checks were stacking up- but I didn’t want to pressure him by cashing them all in. While I was turned on by the fact such an important human was into a small-time girl like myself, the lack of time and communication was leaving us both feeling insecure. Lucas, worrying if he could cater to me emotionally without compromising his career goals- and me, worrying I couldn’t be a part of his personal ones.

The night before my trip, Lucas and I lay together in the bed of his uptown apartment, with nothing filling the air but our synchronized breath and the words we couldn’t say. His body was slightly propped up by his overly fluffy pillows, while I rested my head on his lap. He ran his fingers through my slightly waved hair.

I kept my eyes closed for just a second and absorbed the moment. I could feel the city lights shine through his window onto the bed, consequently giving the perfect lighting to his tousled hair and post-coital smirk as I opened my eyes to him gazing onto me.

I moved his hand from my hair to my right cheek, I rested the weight of my thoughts into his palm.

“What’s your biggest fear?” I asked.

He let out a big sigh. Shirtless, without an ounce of hair gel and no briefcase in sight- perhaps this moment was vulnerable enough without adding personal questions to the mix.

“You first.” He moved his thumb softly up and down my cheek.

Me being me, it was easy to answer- easy for me to open up. Not just because that’s who I am, but also because of who I was talking to. “I’m scared I won’t ever feel fulfilled. I guess I’m scared that this dream that’s been sold to me since I was a kid- that there is some big love waiting for you, with a dream job and dream house- it’s all a lie. And I’m waiting for a type of happy that just doesn’t exist.”

Lucas was silent for a moment. He just looked down to me, continuing the soft movement of his thumb upon my face, non-verbally telling me that I wasn’t as crazy as I thought I was. This thumb migrated to my lips, then he bent down to kiss them.

He broke the silence, “My biggest fear is not getting where I need to be. I know what I’m destined for. I know you think it’s just about money. But I think, really, it’s a matter of legacy. It’s not a question of if I will be successful- it’s a matter of how and when. I have to change lives. Otherwise, I don’t know why I’m here.”

My body shifted into an upright position, putting my face only a pucker of lips away of his. I didn’t dare to blink. I looked into his eyes and felt my inner being thank his for sharing just a little part of himself with me. Perhaps I should have told him I supported his legacy. Perhaps I should have told him I wanted to be a witness to his greatness- through the upcoming setbacks and successes.

Instead, I kissed him as I straddled his waist. His hands cradled my head by the feminine chisel of my chin. I raised my hips slightly so I could slide down his boxers as smoothly as possible. Our eyes opened at the same time, looking into each other, knowing what was going to happen next, but somehow at the same time- having absolutely no idea.

The next morning, I left Lucas with a kiss and a long stare. He towered over me as he hugged me goodbye- looking down at me to try to read my mind.

“You’ll be here when I get back?” I asked, knowing international travel would be sure to break apart whatever we had.

“Of course I will,” he said, with sincerity. As he held me for just a bit longer, I could feel the doubt swell so large between us that it had felt as if I was already 1,000 miles away.

*********************************************************************

Part Three: Madrid, Spain

Let me get one thing out of the way: I have nothing against a one night stand.

To be honest, the thought of one is extremely exciting to me. I imagine sitting at the bar alone at some fancy hotel in a major city- wearing a fitted, bright red, low cut, elegant dress drinking a glass of white wine. I lick my lips to prepare for my last sip when the bartender slides me a new, full glass- but wait! I didn’t order this!

He points to a well-built, bearded brunette man with bright blue eyes. He’s wearing a suit that accentuates his physique as he raises his glass to me for a silent toast. I call him over, and after some witty banter, I invite him to my penthouse upstairs. We tell each other our fake names, and make passionate love until the sun comes up.

I get dressed as he sleeps in. I leave a note on the pillow, granting him a late check-out and permission to order room service on me. We never see each other again.

The thing is, it never turns out that way. I’ve never felt the adrenaline-rushed type of affection for a stranger to take me right then, right there. It’s just, holding someone’s hand while they bare their soul to me gives me a bigger rush than having a 12 hour wild evening with someone I will never see again.

So, when entering my trip to Europe, there was no thought in my mind that one night with someone, one night of passion and mystery with a stranger, would ever happen.

My first order of business was to venture into Madrid, Spain. I explored the city center, filled with tapas, tall buildings, beautiful museums and even more beautiful people. I ate foods I would never dare to eat and drank my weight in sangria. The city was intoxicating.

Through a flier on a bulletin board, I discovered a local pub crawl designed to connect other solo travelers with each other.

So that evening, I walked to a group of about 30 people. I talked to a bartender from Russia, an aspiring actor from London, a single mother on holiday from Belgium, a lawyer from Canada and so many others. In a matter of minutes (and a few sangrias), we had been sharing stories, smiling, and laughing as if we had known each other for years. At one point, my social battery running low, I took a breather away from the group, walking right outside the pub and looking through the decorated glass window.

I looked onto them as if I was watching the happy ending of an ensemble-style romantic comedy. Everyone was smiling, laughing- lightly placing their hands on each other’s shoulders and leaning into the banter they’d created.

It made me question why I really decided to travel alone in the first place. Perhaps it was more than just a matter of curiosity or adventure. I mean, everyone in that pub, including myself, went out on a limb alone in the world. They did so to feel connected to something or someone else outside their comfort zone. Quite ironic, isn’t it? We ran away, alone, only to find someone else. Maybe some were meeting others in the process of finding themselves.I was just like them. Seeking connection to something in the world.

I took a deep sigh as I processed this revelation. Was this the epiphany I had traveled all this way for? I stood alone and heard a commotion pass by behind me. I turned my head back, and looked at a clique of men together, laughing and tripping over each other. When I went to turn around again and get back to my train of thought- I noticed a tall, auburn haired man looking at me with curiosity. He smiled at me, and I nervously turned around as fast as I could.

He lightly jogged across the street. “Excuse me?” He said, in his strong Spanish accent. “Um, are you lost?” He asked.

“Oh, no...” I said, trying not to gawk as his chiseled features. “I was just um, taking a breather.” I smiled.

“I see. I’m sorry- didn’t mean to bother.” He said to me, still looking at me with the same curiosity from minutes earlier. It was almost like he hadn’t blinked.

“No worries...” I chuckled. I took a step towards the entrance of the bar to make a swift exit.

“Wait!” He said, looking again for the words to say. “Where are you from?” He took his hand out of his pocket and reached out his open palm, which was politely asking me to offer my hand in return.

I stared at it for a moment, and furrowed my eyebrow in confusion before putting my right high-heeled foot in front of the other, taking his hand and walking closer to him. As soon as our fingers entangled, he smiled wide, and his slightly glazed but suddenly very bright eyes opened a bit more.

“Colorado.” I said.

“Ah, United States. Makes a little more sense.”

I titled my head, like a confused puppy.

“Well, you look Spanish, but I haven’t seen you around before. And I would have remembered your face.”

His charm quickly dissipated as I got the impression this act has been played several times before.

I turned away to go back into the bar. It wasn’t that he wasn’t good looking. My God, was he handsome. Dressed in tight and slightly tattered blue jeans as well as a tight armed, white v-neck tee, he gave the impression he was just coasting through an incredibly relaxed life.

“Guapa,” he spoke again. “Where are you going?”

“I have to go back inside,” I chuckled. “Back to my friends.”

Behind him, I heard his amigos call out asking for his return. He shouted back at them in Spanish, gesturing for them to move on. As they disappeared into the crowded Madrid street, he walked a few steps closer to me.

He pointed his finger into the bar, at the drunken strangers I was so quick to call acquaintances. “Those people? Those are your friends?” He replied, challenging me.

“Yes?” I popped up my right eyebrow.

He pointed at one person in the crowded bar in a printed collared shirt. “What is his name?”

“Uh... His name is...” I thought of the first name that came into my head. “Chad.” “Chad? His name is Chad?” He replied, sarcastically.

“Yep. Chad. I love Chad. He’s cool. From Denmark. Really cool guy.”

“You are so full of shit.” He smiled. His accent even made a curse word sound like Shakespeare. “Come. Spend the night with me.”

“Spend the night with you?” I said, offended and flabbergasted.

“Pardon, pardon, pardon....” He interrupted, suddenly worried about my change of tone. “I am... How you say... an idiot.” He chuckled. “I only meant that I want to show you Madrid tonight.”

“I’ve seen Madrid. I’ve been here a few days and-”

“No. Let me show you my Madrid.” His bright eyes again gazed into mine again.

And so my inner monologue began. I can’t just disappear into the night with a handsome stranger, right? My conscious emerged as a devil on my left shoulder, and an angel on my right. The angel on my right shoulder told me that it was completely unsafe. I had no emergency back-up plan in my back pocket. But the devil on my left shoulder was so convincing. I would always wonder what could have been with the man in Madrid. And I am always so terrified of so many things- spiders, some vegetables, styrofoam rubbing together... But by far, it’s the Could Have Beens that frighten me the most. I don’t want to daydream about this Spaniard for the rest of my life.

“Guapa,” he interrupted. He must have read my concern on my face. “Be brave.”

Be brave, he said. It felt like a message from the universe. Bravery would be new for me. My life was pretty safe. Every choice I had made up until this point was a safe one. My career, my living situation, my choice in friendships, my choice in lovers... All safe bets. I mean, that was another reason I wanted this trip. To take chances. To have experiences that one can only have if they step out of their comfort zone. A chance to be brave. Not the “smart, safe” predictable girl my Mother convinced ten-year-old me I was.

“Okay,” I said.

His eyebrows rose, expressing his excitement. “I’m Mateo.”

“Rebekah.” I said, hypnotized by the combination of his Spanish charm and the city lights.

“Rebekah,” He said, then pausing. “I want to show you something.”

As we walked to our undisclosed location, Mateo held my hand. Standing at around 6’2, Mateo looked down at me with such a sensual care. I never had a man look at me the way he did. And he spoke to me with such intention. His verbiage was all calculated- from the words themselves to their inflections.

I carefully examined every moment when I was with Mateo. The night was clear as the stars would only briefly check in above us before they disappeared behind the city lights. The road was made of stones that, I bet, could tell hundreds of stories about women just like me clicking their heels on them, meeting Spanish boys while drunk on tequila-fueled attraction. The moon was full, and extremely bright- igniting a sparkle in Mateo’s forest green eyes that forced me to want to explore them.

Every time he addressed me- whether it was a question, or just a statement about himself- he had to sneak in a cheesy compliment:

“Well, beautiful, I am studying to be a doctor.”

“I love my family, we are very close. I have lived here all my life, sweet angel, you would love living here.”

“I cannot focus on anything around you, Guapetona. I am, how you say, captivated by your beauty.”

In both English and Spanish, his words painted a picture that one could only call a masterpiece. I wondered how many of these names he had in his pocket. How many lines he had memorized and how many women he had used them on successfully.

The challenge with Mateo, as intoxicating as his presence was, was knowing what was real. It was like he was a re-imagined, cloaked version of the men I’ve been with in America: A man who is close enough to touch, but not near enough to reach. There was a wall built, but it his was disguised. His metaphorical emotional wall was transparent. It was clear enough that you could see the great beyond, but the boundary was clear and marked off territory.

We reached a tiny bar that was located in a quaint, local-filled square I had not yet explored in Madrid. Big, red umbrellas lined the boundary of the marketplace, with people sitting at tables topped with wine glasses filled to the brim with sangria. A sea of bright stringed lights were scattered into the trees to add to the overwhelming sense of belonging. I was happy just to be there. My eyes opened wide, with a big smile to match, taking in the scenery bit by bit.

Mateo stood to the right of me, with my hand still carried in his. I had made mental screenshots of the square, and I wanted to end my intentional memory with a shot of the handsome man who had whisked me away. As if he could read my mind, I felt a squeeze in my right hand. I looked down at it, to again confirm the entanglement of our fingers, and directed my eyes up to him, and reduced my starstruck grin into a grateful smirk.

He shifted his body to directly face mine, using our entangled hands to lightly tug me to lean me in closer. Taller than me, he lifted my chin with his bent pointer finger. My mouth was slightly opened now, maybe in astonishment, with my eyebrows raised enough to feel the tip of my mascara-coated eyelashes tickling my face. His eyes closed, and mine followed suit.

He kissed me with the sea of red umbrellas and sparkling lights as our witnesses. My body fully submitted to his while our lips perfectly fit into each other. My hand, gently laying on his chest, my back right foot gently perked leaning into the tips of my toes. One of his hands was now placed on the back of my head, immersed in my hair, and I could have sworn I felt a gentle pull.

Our kiss broke, and our eyes opened. For a far too brief few seconds, we looked into each others eyes, with no sound but the clinks of glasses and surrounding distant chatter.

He took a deep breath in, took a step back, and released it.

Next thing I knew, we were walking into a sunken-ship themed pub. College students sat on rounded tables made of what looked like thousand year old wood. The bar top had tons of taps with colorful themes and the bartenders were bearded and tattooed.

One of them swung around the pub, greeting us at the door. “Mateo!” He shouted, his arms wide open. They shared a brotherly hug.

They talked in Spanish for a moment as we all walked to the bar top. I couldn’t speak their language, but I knew they were close. I sat quietly and watched Mateo’s natural self emerge and enjoyed each second of it.

“Ah, Antonio, this is Rebekah.”

“Rebekah!” Antonio lightly shouted. “So great to meet you.” He nudged Mateo. “So beautiful, huh? Buen trabajo!” He laughed.

Mateo shifted slightly in his seat and grinned. “Guapa, what can my friend get for you?”

Antonio poured me a tall glass of blueberry cider- sweet and unexpected, much like the company I was in.

As Mateo and I sat together, many locals and employees stopped to talk to him. Each time, he introduced me endearingly. And each time, his friend would make a positive comment on the luckiness of Mateo being in my company. I made a point to take of note of this, as though each one recognized Mateo’s good fortune, none of them seemed surprised by it.

Soon, there was a group of us. Mateo’s friends from earlier in the night had met up with us at this point, and all of them were extremely welcoming to me. In their broken English, they had somehow told me every embarrassing story involving Mateo. Every conversation was infused with witty banter and forms of Spanish I have never heard spoken so lovingly.

What I love about the Spanish is their ability to unapologetically express their emotions. It was easy to assume that they felt things deeper than the American men I had been surrounded by all my life. Their hands were just as expressive as their words, if not more. They touched each other with care and comradery. They would hug like blood brothers, make toasts as if they were life-long pacts. It seemed impossible to have any questions off how one felt about you. You knew, because there was no agenda, no secret, no guessing game. It was just as refreshing as it was terrifying. I wondered if the intensity of their Spanish brotherhood transcended to the intensity of their romantic relationships.

I stood up and excused myself from the table and walked over to the bathroom. As I travelled to the back of the crowded Spanish pub and noticed Daniel, one of Mateo’s best mates, crossing my path back to the table. He lightly grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

“Rebekah!” Spanish men seemed to like to shout my name. “Are you having a good time?” I nodded. “You guys are really great.” I laughed.

“Gracias,” he said. “I think Mateo really enjoys you...” I smiled at his observation, flattered. “Much more than the others.”

My eyes took a hard blink, my head took aback in confusion. He patted the side of my arm, awkwardly raised his eyebrows and sipped his beer; making his way back to the others as forcefully casual as he could. “Others...” I said to myself.

After my bathroom visit, I walked back to the table, and decided to keep it cool. I suddenly felt a rush of realizations come to mind. I, Rebekah, the Queen of Commitment, the naysayer of one night stands, was on her way to a one evening conquest. One of many to my very own Spanish Dr. McDreamy.

I kept these rush of thoughts to myself as I listened to the banter between a few of the boys. I looked over to Mateo, who was across the table, and noticed he was staring at me already. As soon as we matched glances, he flashed his pearly whites at me in the way that made my stomach do a olympic-winning somersault. I had just met this man and he looked at me in a way no man has ever looked at me. And even in my weary state, I couldn’t help but follow suit. His eyebrows rose, and he nodded his head to the door, non-verbally asking me if I was ready to leave the bar with him.

Before I could non-verbally decide, he stood and announced our departure in Spanish to his buddies. They all shared a collective and drunken, “Awwwwwe”. I said my goodbyes to the good men I had met, expressing how grateful for their company.

We walked out of the bar side by side, his hand reaching for mine.

“My friends took a liking to you,” he chuckled. “I hope you had a nice time.”

“I did...” I said, not making eye contact.

“My home is right up the way,” He said, nonchalantly announcing our next location.

I stopped my black heels in their tracks. He stopped a few steps ahead of me, looking at me with a confused intrigue. “Beautiful, what is wrong, huh?”

I told myself not to say it. I told myself that men don’t like it when I’m to honest too fast. I told myself to be present in the moment, to just go back to his room and lose myself into him. But I hardly ever listen to the sane, non-emotional part of myself. It is a very, very small part of me and the emotional part of me always takes hold. I took a deep breath in as I prepared myself for an epic emotional run on sentence:

“Although I aware I come off as this carefree, exoticly beautiful American, with just no cares in the world- who is cool and in the moment and just is friends with everyone and is just like caressly sexy and cool and is just like, taking life by the reigns- I am a very calculated human being. And as much as I would love to run away and have this intense night of passion with you- I, Rebekah, am simply not cut out to be another American conquest to you. And I just don’t-”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” Mateo said. He walked closer to me, putting my head in his hands, and lightly touched his forehead to mine. “Breathe in.” I followed his instructions as I stared into his eyes. “Breathe out.” He softly spoke again. He released his light grip of my head, and floated his hands to hold mine.

He spoke again. “I consider myself very, very good with English. I understand many things, but I cannot understand you.” He laughed, as he let go of his hand to tuck my brown hair behind my ear. “Also, I don’t know if I ever heard someone speak so fast.”

“Did you understand anything I said?” I asked, already embarrassed.

“You lost me at ‘exotically beautiful American’. Which, one- I admire your confidence. And, two- I agree with.”

I felt myself go heart-eyed. “Oh...”

“Let me ask you,” he said, sternly. “What would make you happy?

“Pfft, where do I start...”

“No, no.” He said. “What would make you happy?” He asked again, taking a few steps back. “Right now. What would make you happy, right here, right now. No consequences.”

“You’re going to laugh.” I said.

“Tell me.” He said, in his strong Spanish accent.

“Sangria.” I sighed, and reached out my hand, in a similar fashion he did all those hours earlier.

He checked the time on the watch on his wrist. He looked up to me again. “Ah, guapa. You surprise me.” His fingers touched mine. “Let me send a message to the group...”

“This is about what I want, yes?” I said, mocking his previous words and accent.

He smirked at my attempt at humor. “Yes, of course.”

“I want it to just be us.” I said. My inner thoughts were screaming at my words and candor.

“Just us.” He said, then giving me a quick peck on the lips. “Just us, then. Follow me.”

************************

The restaurants and bars in Madrid were just as charming as Mateo. And they were open so late- many until the wee hours of 6 am.

He took me to a dimly lit and small cantina. It was almost empty. We sat at a small round table, and though his chair originally was set in place directly across from me; he made sure to pull it around to my side.

“In America, we make fun of people like this.” I whispered in his ear.

“How do you Americans say this...” He paused. “We are not in Kansas anymore.” He leaned in close, and gently lay his lips to perfectly pucker against mine.

Mateo ordered a pitcher of the house sangria for us. He poured my glass first, almost to the very top- then filled his.

We took our first sip together, then locking eyes. He swallowed, then started to gently stare at me.

My hair, by then, was in a messy bun. My hoops hung from my ears with sass, my eye shadow smoked, lashes coated gently with mascara, but slightly smeared from the night’s tears of laughter.

It was quiet for a few seconds as we studied each other. “You’re quite the mystery, you know.” I finally spoke. “Me? A mystery?”

“Yes! Very much so.”

He took another drink. “Beautiful, ask me anything. I will tell you.”

I slightly tilted my head, squinting my eyes to reflect my deep thought.

“What’s your biggest fear?”

“You see, I thought you would want to know my favorite color. Or maybe when I had my first kiss. But you, beautiful... You choose the hard questions.”

I puffed my chest out, and mimicked his hand gestures and deep voice. “Ask my anything, beautiful. I will tell you anything, beautiful.”

He let out a loud laughter. “Oh, is that me?”

I nodded, smiling.

“I call you beautiful that much, yes? Well. I guess that’s what you do to me.” I flipped my hair in a confident fashion.

He continued his laughter. “Ah, so surprising. You surprise me. I am not often surprised.” He paused, and his smile dimmed the slightest bit. “My biggest fear...” He pointed to the only other people in the bar. An older couple, they held hands from across the table. They were smiling as they spoke to each other words we couldn’t hear, but could only suppose were full of love.

“You see them?” Mateo said, almost sternly curious. “Well, beauty, I want to be a doctor. My sister, she is a professor. My Father, he is a doctor. My Mother, she raised us to strive to be educated. To be strong. To not... To not fail. Succeed, and do not forget your family.”

My gaze upon Mateo in this moment was extremely intentional. His messy hair, his drunken smiles throughout the evening, and his unbuttoned just-tight-enough button down were meant to illustrate an easy exterior. This new part of him he was revealing to me, I was eager to learn.

“I know that I am meant to become a doctor. And I am...” He paused to search for his words. “I am dedicated and I know I must be alone. And I have been alone, for some time. There are...” He stopped again, this time looking to not offend me. “Lovers.” He awkwardly laughed. “But that..” He gently pointed. “Sometimes, I fear that is something I will never have time for. That I am destined for a great career but no great love.”

I snuggled my body into the side of his, scooting my chair as close as I could next to his, embracing Spain’s non-existent rules of public displays of affection. I rested my head on his shoulder. He picked up my head, and gently snuck a kiss, with a quiet passion that fit the moment we fell into.

He unlinked his mouth from mine, and touched my forehead to his, as if for a second we were commuting via thought. He sat upright suddenly, checked the time on his phone, and told me he’d be right back.

Confused, I sat alone for a moment as he went to the bar to speak with our server. I took a sip of my sangria and noticed the soft background music become louder and louder.

Mateo returned to me. He stood in front of the table silently, rose his eyebrows and looked up, referencing the Spanish slow song that was unavoidably romantic playing through the speakers.

I gulped my sip of sangria and Mateo offered me his hand. I gladly took it, as I rose from my chair. He guided me to the middle of the almost-empty cantina, still dimly lit, and I rested my head on his chest as we slowed danced.

The older couple then joined us as we danced, each in moments I’m sure we all wanted to last forever. As my head rested on his chest, and my ear listened to his heartbeat gently correspond to the Spanish love song, I wondered about the older couple.

I wondered how long they’d been together. I wondered if they had a hard road to be where they are now. I wondered if one of them wasn’t looking for love, but stumbled into it anyways. I wondered if one of them felt whisked away by the other. I wondered how they met. Perhaps it was unexpectedly, on a warm Spanish night fueled by sangria and tequila. Perhaps it was by chance, and ended up as a adventure.

I looked up to meet Mateo’s eyes, and he looked down onto mine.

Maybe there are different types of soulmates, I thought. Some who have a long road, and end up together forever. Some who have a shorter one, full of adventure, and only last a night.

Either way, they both end up here, slow-dancing in a bar, holding onto each other. And that’s all that mattered to me. ****************************************************************

It is now almost seven am, and Mateo has walked me back to my hostel. We have stood here, in front of the key-entry only lobby doors, avoiding saying goodbye for twenty minutes. Both trying to forget that in the morning I leave for France. I can see many of my travel mates walking towards the kitchen for breakfast, and the bus is parked, reflecting the sunrise in my eyes.

“I had a great time tonight.” I finally spoke.

“I did too, beautiful.” He gave me a hug, then kissed the top of my head. “And now... you go to France.”

“I do.” I sighed, disappointed somehow.

“It is a beautiful country.” He sarcastically said. “I’ve been a few times.”

“Great.” I said, looking down. I looked then to the glass doors of the hostel, and through them I saw a friend wave her hand to say hello, pointing to the kitchen. I looked at my clock, seeing it was almost time to load onto the bus.

“I have to go... But I really did have the greatest time with you.” I stood on my tip toes, and gave him a peck. I gently let go of his hand, scanned my key card, and walked back into my hostel with a heavy heart.

I made it to the entryway of the breakfast area, just enough where my friends and I locked eyes as they waved me over to be briefed about my romantic getaway. From behind, I felt a tug of my hand turn me around.

Mateo must have slipped through the door at the last second. He cradled my head close to his with both hands, so they were wrapped into my hair. He kissed me again, right then and there, with his tongue dancing with mine, and it felt that the non-existent camera filming the ending to a romantic comedy was circling around us as a crowd of people watched. He released his lips from mine, and asked so kindly, “Stay here. Stay with me, and you can meet up with everyone in Rome. I will buy the ticket. I know it’s crazy. But crazy is fun, yes?”

I looked behind me, and saw my friends, reacting with their mouths wide open, also waiting for me to reply. Mateo used his hand to softly turn my head to face him again. For a second, I thought about Lucas.

“Rebekah, you ask what my biggest fear was. You tell me, what are you so afraid of?”

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didiletyouknooow · 8 years ago

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35. She’s Only 22

Hey!

It’s still weekend (and the best weather outside here in Germany!). So I had time to write a new chapter while sitting outside. I hope you like it! ______________

Lara and I were skyping a lot in the last weeks. It’s like we brought back our roommate-friendship one year after living together. Although we were separated by thousands of kilometers we knew everything about each other’s lives. She was the one I could talk about with when I had struggles in my life – no matter if it was with a man, work or family. I could also talk to Marc but although he offered me to talk about my dating life I didn’t want to.

So I had this idea in the middle of the night while skyping with Lara: I wanted to spend new years eve with her! It was completely spontaneous but she could get some affordable plane tickets. “I’m so excited that we spend New Years Eve together!” Lara said into the screen. “Yes me too! It will be so great.” “Are there any party plans yet?” “No….not really. I’m not very aware of the party scene in LA” ”We’ll find something cool!” Lara laughed. “Yes! Definitely!” I agreed. “But maybe we can attend Molly’s and Eric’s party in Malibu. They rent a house there and throw a big party.” “Sounds cool!” Lara grinned. “I’ve never been to Malibu before but spending New Years Eve there sounds pretty good” “It is! I was there last year…well okay it was at Flea’s house but it was Malibu” “Speaking of Flea….do you think Josh will be at the party?” “Hmmmm I don’t think so. Molly said he has some plans to go on a vacation with friends” “Friends or the chick?” “Uhm….I don’t know she said he asked Eric and her as well but they don’t want to go on a vacation since Molly is very mad at him. He wants to go into the valley” “The valley? On New Years eve?” “Yes…I wouldn’t do that either but if he’d like to” “He should do that! I mean, you don’t really care about him, don’t you?”

Well, to be honest, I didn’t tell Lara about Josh’s plans to move in with Chloe. So the last days were a bit troubled because I spent a lot of time thinking about it but in the end I always came to the terms that it’s useless.

“Not really. I only have to survive the concert in one week, that’s all” “Ehhhhhm Eileen?” Lara asked. Shit, I think she noticed my lie. “Yes?” “You did think about Josh, didn’t you?” “Hmmm….why do you think so?” “Because I know you! And I saw your face when you told me the answer and I know your face when you lie” “You’re right” I sighed. “I met Molly the other day and she told me that Josh is going to move in with Chloe” “What the…..fuck????” “Yes…that was my reaction as well” “Okay….how long are the two dating?” “I don’t know. I think since summer….July? So roughly half a year now?” “Wow, this is very early for this next step into a relationship” she concluded. “And when did this even become a relationship? I thought he told you the other day that he’s just seeing someone?” “Yeah….that’s what he said” “So do you think he lied to you?” “No….I just think that it’s a bit serious now and maybe she annoyed him with asking this question and he agreed” “But that’s not Josh” “No it’s not” “The Josh I used to know wouldn’t behave like this” “Well…he changed a lot in the last months” “Yes he obviously did” “So….how are you feeling?” “Okay” I answered. “I’m just a bit disappointed because he never asked me to move in” “Maybe he thought you don’t want to” “I don’t know….and to be honest, I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. I just wanna survive the concert next week” “Oh yes, this weird concert situation” Lara said. “Did you tell Adam who Josh really is? How you two are related to each other?” “No….” I sighed. I knew Lara would judge me for not talking to Adam yet. “Eileen!” she said in an angry voice. “You should definitely talk to him before you go to the concert. I mean, he has a right to know it. He thinks Josh is just a random guy you’re friends with, am I right?” “Yes he does” “So….but since this isn’t the truth you should really talk to him” “But why? I mean I don’t plan to meet Josh with Adam except of the concert so why should I do this awkward conversation?” “Because this is how grown ups behave” “Of course….grown ups” I rolled my eyes. “Eileen, listen to me. You can prevent you from trouble if you talk to him before the show” “But then he will freak out! I don’t want to ruin this evening. He’s looking forward to it since Josh invited us” “Oh well….Adam seems to be a big fanboy” “That’s the problem….and that’s why I can’t tell him that this guy who plays the guitar in one of his favorite bands is my ex boyfriend” “Urgh….yes maybe you’re right.” Lara sighed. “But do you think it will take wings?” “No. Why? Who should tell him who Josh really is? No one knows him at the concert and Josh will be too busy backstage to have a real talk with us so….we just go to the concert, have fun, maybe say hello to the band backstage and then we’ll leave” “Hm….if you think so”

Lara excused herself for leaving the screen a few minutes to get something to drink. When she came back she looked like she wanted to tell me something. “You know what….I didn’t ask you about your recent dates with Adam! You only told me that after the Heidi-case and the gallery situation you two had one lunch date. This was more than one week ago, so what happened in the meantime?” “Well….we had a good time. We met nearly every day after work which is very strange for me” “Oh yes! This is VERY strange for you! What happened to you?” “I don’t know….it just feels good” “And how’s the sex?” “Good” “Oh well! You already did go further! After how many dates?” “I don’t know….it just happened. I didn’t count the dates” “And is it good?” “Lara….I already answered your question” “Yes but ‘good’ doesn’t sound like an explosion of emotions and passion to me” “You know….it’s not always rainbows and butterflies” “So he isn’t good?” “Lara! I don’t wanna talk about it!” “Is Josh better?” “LARA!” “Come on Eileen, we’re friends, we’re grown ups. Don’t be so prude. Just tell me. Do you like it?” “Well” I sighed. “Okay this says everything” she started laughing. “Adam isn’t a good lover, right?” “I didn’t say that” “But your facial expression told me everything!” she responded. “What does he do wrong?” “He doesn’t do anything wrong….he’s just not…” ”Josh?” ”NO!” I disagreed. “Its just….we don’t know each other enough I guess. We’re only dating for a few weeks” “Yeah but usually the first times are so exciting that you don’t care about some parts that don’t fit….you just enjoy it. But in my opinion you don’t enjoy it….the question is why” “Lara….please” “Maybe because there is still another person in your heart and on your mind?” “I wouldn’t say that” “So you’re completely over Josh?” “Yes….I said it before. I don’t wanna think about him anymore!” “And you don’t care about him dating this actress and even moving in with her?” “No” “Good….I’ll take you up on that!” “Lara….can we please stop talking about it….it causes me headache” “We can….” “Thanks” “What does Adam do on new years eve?” “Uhm, I don’t know” “You didn’t even talk about your plans? It’s only two weeks!” “I know but….he didn’t ask me” “So you obviously don’t want to spend new years eve with him? The guy you’re dating?” “Hm, I don’t want to make a big deal about New Years Eve. Its just New Years Eve and I want to spent it with you, my best friend” “Thank you honey” she smiled and air-kissed me. “But don’t you think it’s strange that you didn’t even think about spending it with Adam? I mean since you’re sleeping with him, you could at least think about spending it with him” “Yeah but….it’s just one day in the year. Nothing special to me” “Liar” “It is!” “Well” she sighed. “However….I told you what I think about it. You should at least talk to him before you’re going to the concert. In the end truth will come out!”

I heard Lara repeating these last words over and over again although she only said it once. Truth will come out. Yes, maybe. But I wondered how it should come out when we wouldn’t even meet Josh backstage and they wouldn’t have a real talk there? I knew how crowded it is backstage at a Chili Peppers concert. So many people, friends or family who want to talk to the guys. Josh was often so exhausted from talking to all these people that he only wanted to drive home and go to bed. So I was sure we wouldn’t really meet him there. That’s why I decided to not talk to Adam. Since I wasn’t that close to Josh as a friend and wouldn’t meet him together with my new date I wasn’t afraid that truth would come out.

_________

It was a rainy and windy day in LA when Adam and I made our way to Staples Center. It was one week before Christmas and the Chili Peppers did a special show tonight as a charity event. Our tickets arrived last week and after I pinned it at my bulletin board I thought about it every day until today. It reminded me of Lara’s words. Truth will come out. Maybe she was right but I didn’t find the right situation to tell Adam who Josh really was. Maybe he didn’t really care about it? But wouldn’t it be weird seeing a concert of the ex boyfriend of your current date? I didn’t want to imagine it but I guess it would be weird. One thing that surprised and scared me was that I didn’t care about Adams ex. I only knew that she was living in San Francisco and although I found her in his facebook friend list I never looked her up. It just didn’t interest me who she was.

Whereas I checked out Chloe’s Instagram feed on a regular basis. I felt bad about it and also a bit ashamed. I was 29 and still checking out my ex’ new date? Who was I? But I couldn’t stop it. It was like she shared her life with the world and even with me – and her 67k followers. Since the Thanksgiving night she only posted one picture where she was definitely driving in his car. So they definitely spent time together. Bur It wasn’t surprising for me since she moved into his house one week ago. I wondered if he ever told her about that night? Well okay it was none of my business. It was his problem if he was lying to his so called girlfriend about his sex with his ex. Why did I even care?

When Adam and I were driving to Staples Center I felt the tension inside of me. I never felt so nervous in a long time. But why did I feel this way? Was I really that nervous and scared about going to this concert with him? I mean….it was just a concert. Sure we could attend the backstage area but it wasn’t that exciting – at least not for me. I’ve seen it before. But what if Adam wanted to meet the other guys? I was hoping he wouldn’t care about it. We didn’t talk about it and he didn’t even ask me what the caption “Special Guest” on our tickets meant?

To stop thinking about it I checked my phone another time. Lara wanted to text me to tell me if Leon would become a doctor or not. His thesis would be marked today so I was also a bit excited. He worked the last four years for this day to happen. But she didn’t text me yet. So I opened Instagram for a last time – why did I even do it? – and without stopping me from doing so I clicked on Chloe’s profile and there it was.

A photo of her in the empty Staples Center with a big “Special Guest” pass hanging around her neck. The caption said everything.

“Today I support my bae!

We shared so many great moments together during the summer tour and now you’re finally coming back home to LA with your band! I’m so proud of you! <3”

She was pointing at the right side of the stage where you could see his amps and his pedal board already standing on stage.

I wanted to barf.

It really looked like they were having a real relationship. She even called him “bae”. And she moved in with him a few days ago. It was obviously to whom she was referring to.

What did I even do here?

“Is everything okay?” Adam asked while driving into the underground parking garage of Staples Center. We were glad that we could park in it. “Yes….it’s just….I’m waiting for Lara to text me if her boyfriend can call himself a doctor now or not” “Oh really? Medicine?” “No….uhm he studied biology….I meant if he has now graduated with a PhD.” “Alright….I hope he does!” Adam said chuckling. While he was searching for a parking lot I was clicking on the comments of Chloe’s photo. Seems like people already knew who she was.

“Do you refer to JK?”

“Are you dating Josh?”

“I saw you and Josh the other day at Starbucks! You’re a really cute couple!”

“Hope you have fun at your boyfriends concert! You’re gorgeous! I love your show!”

“Seems like you want attention, don’t you?”

Okay, the last one made me chuckle for a moment. But the other comments seemed like people were already knowing about her. I mean, she even mentioned him in an interview a few months ago. So he took her to Starbucks, hm? He once told me that he hated such coffee companies and prefers coffee from his bakery around the corner. Well, maybe we all change sometimes. And some people change by meeting other people.

Adam finally parked the car so I put my phone into my bag and left the car. We went to the entrance – hand in hand. I must admit that I felt a bit better now. Adam was so cute and he was so happy and excited for the show. I wondered how this all would’ve turned out if I would’ve told him who Josh really was? “Do you know where we have to go?” “Yes, to the VIP-entrance” I told him and he followed me. It all seemed so familiar to me because I did it several times. The last time I went to one of Josh’s concerts was in Vegas together with my grandma. Thinking about this wonderful night brought me almost to tears.

So we went to the VIP-entrance and our tickets were changed into “Special Guest”-passes. “Wow, am I really a special guest at a Chili Peppers show tonight?” Adam was laughing. “I think I have to take a picture of it and send it to my brother. He won’t believe it! Can you please take a pic of me?” “Sure” I nodded and took his phone. Adam was standing with his back at the stage and smiled at me. After I took the pic he immediately took his phone and sent it over to his brother in London. We were having a few drinks before heading to our seats. “Wow, these are the best seats I ever had a concert! I think from now on I always wanna be a special guest at concerts” he joked. “Yeah, it’s a great view to the stage” “Do you think they have something special planned for tonight? Maybe rare songs?” “Hm….I don’t know.” “I thought maybe Josh told you something about it” “No….uhm we don’t really stay in contact” I told him. “Oh I didn’t know….at the gallery it looked like you two are very close, so I thought you’re good friends with him” “Hm….not really. I mean, we used to. But since he’s always on tour and doesn’t have much time we only text sometimes and maybe see each other a few times a year” “Ah okay” Adam said and looked to the stage where Ian and the other crew members were already doing their job. But before the Peppers would hit the stage tonight they had a very special guest as a supporting act. We didn’t know who would open up for them tonight – until he entered the stage. It was Bob Forrest who came on stage to play a few acoustic songs. He told some funny stories about his music and his life between the songs and for the last song Josh showed up on stage. “Wow, Josh plays with the supporting act?” “Yes, they have a band together called Bicycle Thief. Josh plays with Bob for nearly twenty years now” “Really? Wow, Josh seems to be a very busy guy” Yes he is, I thought. Adam seemed to like the music and looked back at the stage. Meanwhile I was looking at the audience. I knew we were in the family & friends area of the arena. I wondered if maybe Chloe would be here, too. I hoped I didn’t have to see her. I had the feeling that it would ruin my day completely although I didn’t know why. Bob left the stage and the lights were turned on again.

“So, should I order us some more drinks?” Adam asked me and I nodded. At least all the money we spent for drinks tonight would be donated for charity. “Should I accompany you?” “No, you don’t have to. I’ll do it” he smiled at me, gave me a kiss and went away. There I was sitting alone on my VIP-seats with the perfect view at the stage. It was playing music in the arena while the stage was prepared for the Peppers. Johnny Cash’s “Ring on Fire” was on and some people in front of the stage were dancing and singing. I watched them for a few minutes but my field of view was impeded by some ladies who were taking the seats right in front of me. First I didn’t really pay attention to them because I was checking my phone again to see if Lara texted me. She didn’t.

Then I looked back at the stage and recognized the ladies ahead. There were three of them. One was brunet, one had black hair and the last one – who was sitting right in front of me – had blonde hair. They were all giggling and laughing and joking and they remembered me of the wooo-girls from “How I Met Your Mother”. Girls who always have to comment everything with a loud and annoying “woooooo” when they’re out with their girls. Only now I noticed who was the one sitting directly ahead of me. It was Chloe. I recognized her by her tattoos. I only met her once a few months ago but I saw many pics of her on Instagram so it kind of felt like I really “knew” her.

I was kind of shocked. Why did she have to sit here? I mean, WHY? There were plenty of seats in this block of the arena but the new girlfriend of my ex had to sit just one meter away from me. This wasn’t fair! What did I thought one hour ago? It would ruin my evening when I would see Chloe here today? Well there she was, sitting in front of me and my new date. Wasn’t it ironic?

“I told Josh to play my favorite song tonight! I hope they play Californication!” she said to her girls while taking a selfie.

Dude, they play it almost every concert, I thought.

“It’s so great that we can be your dates tonight!” the brunet woman told her. “Yeah, I’ve seen them live when I was 12. It was still with John. I think it was his last tour with them” the black haired woman said. Wow, so now she was 19? “But now we’re all happy that Josh joined them because otherwise we wouldn’t be here tonight” brunet lady laughed. “Plus, I wouldn’t have met him I guess!” Chloe mentioned. “Maybe you wouldn’t even date him because he’s not famous” black haired woman joked. “Nooooo, don’t say that! Josh is so cute! I would also date him if he would be a cook or a teacher. He’s just so cute!” Chloe giggled. “But he’s a musician and that makes it even greater”

Yeah for sure it does make it better for you, I thought. Especially for your fame. I hated her, why did she have to sit here? WHY universe, WHYYYYY????

“How long are Josh and you dating now?” the black haired lady wanted to know. “Uhm, let me count” Chloe said in a highly voice. She almost sounded like Heidi Klum. “I think next week it’s going to be five months but it feels soooooo close and like I know him my whole life. I mean we dated before but then he ended it.” “Why did he end it?” brunet lady asked surprised. “I don’t know….I think he wasn’t ready at that time. He just broke up with his ex at that time and she cheated on him. What a bitch!” ”But didn’t you tell me that this time he also broke up with his ex in June?” “Yes he did….but she was just a boring lady I guess. I mean, she’s a teacher. She has a complete different lifestyle than he has. I think that’s why it didn’t fit”

Yeah, I’m such a boring person. But at least I share many interests with him and didn’t pay much attention to his money, I thought.

“So that’s the reason he broke up with her?” brunet lady asked. “No, he said he didn’t even know why he did it. I think he meant he didn’t even know why he dated her. It didn’t last long” “Whatever. Good for you” black lady grinned. They were all holding their glasses into the air and woooo-ed again.

I wanted to die. Now. Please, can a big asteroid hit the earth in a few minutes?

Why did Josh even talk with that bitch about our relationship? I didn’t understand it. But it felt like I didn’t understand him.

“Is there an aftershow party later?” black lady wanted to know. Chloe grinned. “Sure there is. There’s always a little party backstage but I’m sorry girls, I’ll leave you alone later. I have some plans to do, if you know what I mean” she grinned and drank her beer. “You mean you have some plans with Josh” brunet lady joked and grinned waggishly. “Yeah….I even bought some new lingerie just to surprise him later that night” Chloe giggled.

Woahhhh. I wanted to barf so badly but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to listen to these girls anymore. I had to flee or something like that but I couldn’t. The concert was just about to start. Where was Adam? “Sorry, the queue was so long it took me some more minutes but here’s your beer” Adam showed up when I was already wanting to give up. “Thanks!” I said and drank it without pausing. I needed this right now. “What the fuck” Adam was laughing when I was drinking my beer. “I thought this lasts for the concert” “Yeah, it’s just….I was so thirsty you know” “Oooookay” he looked at me with a weird face. Fortunately the lights were turning off in the same moment and the Chili Peppers entered the stage. I saw that Adam had fun and enjoyed every minute of the concert. I also saw that Josh was on fire. He played very well and it seemed like all of the boys on stage had a great time. Flea thanked the audience and especially LA for being their hometown city and always supporting them. He also mentioned that they did this concert as a charity event for children who need help.

Although I tried to avoid it I sometimes looked at Chloe and her girls who were dancing and posing for her cameras in their phones. She filmed a lot of the concert and even once screamed “Jooooosh” when he did a solo. Not to mention her taking photos of herself like all the time. I really didn’t want to hate her but I couldn’t do anything against it. She was so different than every other woman Josh dated before – I supposed. I mean I only knew Mia but Mia seemed to have more class than this chick. It was like she wanted to show all the people that she was “important” because she was “special guest”.

“Wow, this was insane” Adam was almost speechless after the concert ended. I smiled at him and took his hand but before leaving the arena we waited a while and watched how the crew dismantled the stage. I was always fascinated by their fast work. “They even played “Me & My Friends” and “Don’t Forget Me” which are two of my favourite songs” Adam was still fancying. Meanwhile I was watching Chloe and her entourage leaving the arena. I bet she was looking forward to meet Josh backstage so she can be seen with him. “Did you enjoy it too?” Adam asked me. I looked up to him and smiled. “Yes I did. It was a very good concert. One of the best concerts they played” “How often did you see them?” he laughed. “It seems like you can compare it” “Uhm, yeah I’ve seen them several times” “Because you’re friends with Josh? I imagine it’s really cool to have a connection to someone like him” Adam said. Okay I had the feeling that maybe I should drop the bombshell. Now. Because I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t lie to Adam and pretend to be just friends with Josh when it wasn’t the truth. The truth was that Josh was not only my ex boyfriend but also someone who was very important in my life although our relationship didn’t even last one year. But I was still caring about him. He was still a very important part of my life although we didn’t really stay in contact on a regular basis. I had the feeling we couldn’t be friends. I mean, none of us texted or called the other one. It’s like we avoided to see each other although we were still caring about each other. It confused me a lot and meeting him at the gallery, feeling his lips on mine again – only if it was for a few seconds – it didn’t make it any easier to forget him. I was still struggling with him dating this chick and I didn’t understand why. Okay, one part of me understood it but the other part didn’t. The whole evening I was asking myself if maybe I had still feelings for him? Deep down inside of me? I mean, I slept with him just a few days before starting dating Adam. I could’ve only lied to myself that I was over it, that I wanted to do something new, to date someone new. I think I wasn’t ready.

“Uhm Adam” I said while we were walking to the stairs to leave the arena hall. “Yes?” he was turning around looking at me. At this exact moment a guy behind Adam spilled some beer on his back. Adam turned around again and the guy was apologizing. We were all walking upstairs to the foyer. “So….Eileen, what did you want to tell me a few minutes ago?” Adam kept asking. “Uhm….nothing. Not that important” I heard myself saying.

Adam was looking at the merchandise booth. He thought about buying a t-shirt for his brother’s birthday. So we spent some minutes figuring out which shirt would fit his brother. I didn’t know him. Until today I didn’t even know he had a brother. “I’m so glad I decided to buy this sweater instead of a t-shirt. He likes to wear sweaters so I guess this was the right choice” Adam philosophized when we were walking through the venue halls. Suddenly he was stopping and looked at his Special Guest-pass. “Uhm, Eileen, just a dumb question but….are we allowed to go backstage with these passes?” Adam looked at me with a questioning face. I sighed. “Yeah we are” “Really? Oh I didn’t know….and will the band be there, too?” he wanted to know. “Sorry, I don’t want to be a silly fanboy but….wow I’m a bit overwhelmed of today's show and….it would be a great ending of a great evening I guess if I could meet the other guys” “Yes, they’re often showing up backstage in the family & friends area” “Do you mind if we go there?” “Adam, look” I sighed. “I’m very tired and….” I started to explain but I saw his disappointment in his face. “It’s okay, if you don’t want to go there, we can leave” he told me but I couldn’t do that. I saw his happiness all over his face this evening. I couldn’t ruin it now. “You know, let’s go there” I said and took his hand. It was ironic that I still knew how to get backstage in Staples Center.

A few minutes later we arrived at the crowded “Family & Friends” area backstage. It wasn’t that interested for me seeing all these people having some drinks, talking about the concert and maybe waiting to meet the guys. But Adam was very overwhelmed and happy to be here. “Wow, there are even free drinks” he joked so this was the first thing we did. I think it was one of the best ideas in the last three hours to get some new drinks. After this Chloe shock I needed a new drink. We were standing at the small bar and talked for a while until we noticed some excitement in the room. Anthony was showing up and sure he was greeted and welcomed by many people. Chad was following him. I was looking for a black beanie but I couldn’t see it. “Do you also know the other guys?” Adam was asking and before I was even able to answer him Anthony was showing up. “Hey Eileen, long time no see. How are you? I didn’t know you were coming” he said and we hugged. Uff, this was weird but I hoped Adam wouldn’t ask more questions. “I’m actually feeling very good. What about you? Great concert!” “Thanks! Yeah, we’re also very satisfied with the show. Especially with Bob opening for us. I think it’s nearly 15 years ago that he did it the last time” “Bob was great!” I agreed. I noticed that Adam was still standing next to me so I introduced him to Anthony. They talked a bit and Adam told Anthony how great the show was and how thankful he is that Josh invited us. “Really? Josh invited you? He didn’t tell me you would be here” Anthony laughed. “He’s a bit confused in the last weeks” I didn’t respond anything but I didn’t have to because Anthony excused himself to welcome some other friends of him. “Wow, Anthony Kiedis is one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met!” Adam was still fanboying. I didn’t know how to feel about it. I mean, about all of this here. When I thought it couldn’t get worse I saw Josh showing up in the room. But he wasn’t on his own. He was entering the room together with Chloe, who’s hand he was holding. I couldn’t believe it.

“Oh look, there is Josh!” Adam now caught him too. He waved at Josh and it didn’t take long until he and Chloe came to us. “Hey Josh!” Adam welcomed him and they shook hands. Josh only looked at me and I looked back but we didn’t shake hands or even hug each other. It would be weird to hug your ex with whom you had sex with a few weeks ago if you’re here with your new date, right? “I just want to say thank you for the tickets. It was a great show and I’m still a bit overwhelmed. I only saw the Chilis in 2007 in a big stadium but now I was so close. You’re such a cool band, cool guys” “You’re welcome and thanks for your compliments. I think we did a good job today but I always find some details of the show I’m not completely satisfied with” Josh laughed. “Oh, you don’t have to!” Adam told him. I was still looking at Josh. Meanwhile his hand wandered to Chloes back he was touching now. She was smiling the whole time without saying anything. “So uhm, I guess we have to go. There’re so many people I have to shake hands with today” Josh joked and he and Chloe left, his hand still on her back. “He’s such a nice guy and so down to earth. I’ve never met someone like him before. I must admit now I’m totally over Frusciante!” Adam laughed. “Yeah, he is” I mumbled and was still looking after Josh and Chloe who were now standing at the bar together with some other friends of him.

I couldn’t change it. I had to look at him and Chloe. How he was now holding her hand. When the two of them went on to another older couple Josh knew I was still watching them. I noticed Adam telling me some stories about the concert he attended in 2007. I only nodded and smiled sometimes but truth was I didn’t really listen to him. My mind wasn’t here anymore. It was only thinking about Josh.

Just when I wanted to finally stop looking at them Josh was looking back at me. I felt his gaze on me and I noticed that he didn’t look away. Chloe was talking with a girl while he was standing next to them, still looking at me.

I couldn’t believe it. Why did he have to do this to me? Why him? There were so many men out there in LA but he was the one I couldn’t forget. I hated the feeling. It hurt me so much. I must finally admit that it hurt me so much seeing him with this girl. She looked so different than all the other girls he dated before. She acted differently. She was so extrovert, even I noticed it although I didn’t really know her. What did he see in her? Was it just for fun, like he told me “I’m just seeing someone”. I didn’t think it anymore since she moved into his house just a week ago. So, was it s serious thing now?

When she turned her face to him to give him a kiss Josh looked away from me for a moment to kiss Chloe. I couldn’t stand this anymore. I felt tears in my eyes but I didn’t wan to cry, not here, not in front of all the people – especially Josh and Adam. So I let Adam’s hands go and mumbled something about “Sorry, I have to go to the restroom, don’t go away” until I left the room.

I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t even care. The only thing I knew was that I wanted to leave the room. I didn’t want to be in the same room anymore where Josh was kissing this girl. It hurt me so much that I almost started crying although I was still holding Adams hand.

What did it mean?

So I went away and finally left the arena to get outside. I needed fresh air. I needed to breathe.

While I was standing there, breathing LA’s air into my lungs I didn’t notice that someone followed me. It kind of shocked me when someone called my name. “Eileen” he said. I knew immediately who it was. “Josh….what are you doing here?” “I’m looking for you. I saw you leaving the room so fast. I was wondering what happened” he said while standing there in his black pants, his black sweater with a white t-shirt underneath. The black beanie made his face looking so pale. “Really? Why do you wanna know?” “Uhm….you left with a shocked face and…” “You know, I think it’s none of your business why I left or how I’m feeling at the moment since you’re here with your girlfriend” “She’s not…” ”What? Not your new girlfriend? Well….but I think she thinks she is. Didn’t she move in with you the other day?” While I was saying these words Josh’s face went into shock. “What…how do you know?” “Doesn’t matter” I said. “She did, right?” “Yes…” he finally revealed. “So don’t tell me it isn’t a serious thing or she isn’t your girlfriend. Did you tell her about our night?” I looked in his eyes and wanted to have a reaction. I wanted to see the truth behind all this shit. But I couldn’t. “You didn’t, am I right? She doesn’t know anything about our thanksgiving night, right?” Josh sighed and looked to the floor so his answer was obvious. “Wow Josh, I never thought you would do that”

“I can't get these memories out of my mind And some kind of madness is starting to evolve And I, I tried so hard to let you go But some kind of madness is swallowing me whole”

“Eileen….” ”No! Please, don’t say my name that way!” my voice got louder. I was so mad at him. I couldn’t hide it anymore. And there was another thing that annoyed me as hell! “You know Josh, I’m really wondering what I did to you that you gave me seats for the show just directly behind your new girlfriend” “Uh? What do you mean?” “Did you do it on purpose? Just to tease me?” “Eileen….I don’t decide which seats the people get. I only said that they should send you the tickets. I’m not the one deciding” Josh told me in a calm voice. “Aha!” I crossed my arms.

”And why are you even caring? I invited you with your new date. So why are you upset about Chloe having seats in front of you? Why are you even upset about Chloe being here with me?” now his voice got a bit louder. Yeah, I was asking this question myself. Truth was I couldn’t find an answer. “I don’t know….” I said angry. Josh was still looking at me but didn’t say anything. “I don’t even know why….I don’t even know why I’m even here! I didn’t want to come but I didn’t want to ruin Adam’s evening and….I don’t know” the tears were almost streaming down my face but I looked away so he couldn’t see it. “Eileen, I’m sorry. But I thought you’re totally okay with us being friends. I mean YOU were the one who was asking me if we can still be friends after our night on Thanksgiving” “Yes, and I meant it” I let him know. “So, why are you caring about Chloe now?” “I don’t care about her….I’m just asking myself who you really are.” Now I was able to look at him again. “What do you mean?” “Josh, you didn’t tell her! You lied to her! You’re lying to her right now!” Josh remained silent. “She doesn’t know that her perfectly musician boyfriend cheated on her with his ex” “Eileen, it’s none of your….” ”Business? It’s none of my business? Yeah, you’re right. But then please stop looking at me this way and stop kissing me at the gallery when you only wanted to show me your painting. I’m with Adam now okay?” I screamed at him.

“Now, I need to know, is this real love? Or is it just madness keeping us afloat? When I look back at all the crazy fights we had It's like some kind of madness was taking control”

“Yes but It’s also my business if I tell the girl I’m dating that I cheated on her with my ex who’s still in my head” he finally let me know. I looked at him surprised. “I’m still in your head?” “Yes….sometimes….I can’t….Eileen, look. The night we spent together was beautiful and although I tried to I can’t forget it.” “But Josh…” I interrupted him. “Why are you lying to your girlfriend?” “I don’t want to hurt her” “But you did!” “I know….but she’s so nice and cool….I just can’t tell her the truth” “Wow….so are you telling me that although you can’t stop thinking about the night we had, you don’t want to tell your girlfriend about it because you don’t want to hurt her because she’s so cool? Who are you? Where is the Josh I used to know?” I asked him. Josh didn’t say a word. “I’m wondering when and why you changed to this arrogant, lying guy? You always seemed so humble and smart but I don’t see it in you anymore. I’m very disappointed with you and to be honest….I never thought you would turn into a guy who’s cheating on his girlfriend and doesn’t tell her” “But Eileen….”

This was the moment the door was opening and Adam was coming outside.

“Here you are!” he said and looked at me. Then he looked at Josh and it seemed to confuse him seeing us together outside of the venue. “What are you two doing here?” he asked and first he was still laughing but after a few seconds he checked out my face with my damaged mascara and put one and one together. “Are you two having trouble?” “No” Josh and I were saying simultaneously. “Uhm….I know it’s a dumb question but….is there anything happening between you? Did you hook up?” he asked laughing. Although it used to be a joke I was shocked hearing this question being asked. I couldn’t lie about it anymore. Josh still didn’t change his face. “Okay….okay” Adam now seemed to realized that he was right since none of us responded. “So….what’s happening here?” he kept asking. “Nothing” Josh said. “Eileen” Adam looked at me with a confused face. “What’s wrong here? Can you please clarify it?” I looked away but couldn’t hide my tears. “You two used to date, am I right?”

None of us was saying anything to clarify or deny it so Adam knew the answer. “Eileen, seriously, why didn’t you tell me about it? So Josh is your ex? And he invited you and your new boyfriend to his show? Why did you even accompany me without telling me?” “Because I didn’t want to ruin your evening! You seem to like the Chilis and….I wanted to tell you but there wasn’t the right moment” “There isn’t a right moment to tell your boyfriend that he will see a concert of his girlfriends ex guys’ band.” It confused me so much that Adam was already calling me his girlfriend. We never talked about our dating situation and never put a label on it. For me he wasn’t my new boyfriend. I was still single, I only dated him. I mean, I didn’t even know him, right? “I’m sorry” I finally said. Adam seemed to be very upset about this whole situation. “And why are you even inviting me?” he now asked Josh. “Uhm, because I’m a nice person?” “Yeah….tzzz….all these rockstars” Adam yelled. “I bet deep inside of you, you only wanted to show her how great you are. A great fucking rockstar with a huge ego and an expensive guitar in his hands. And all the girls are going crazy!” Adam was so mad at me and Josh that he didn’t stop. “Don’t you think I know how this works? I bet you even planned to hook up with her although she’s with me this night!” Josh and I were looking at Adam who couldn’t stop himself. “You know what, I hate to say that but although I thought you’re a great and handsome guy I now think you’re just another rockstar who wanna get laid. You know, get inside, there is a blonde chick waiting for you! She even talked about how expensive her lingerie was she bought for this night just to surprise you again.” Adam told Josh. “Adam, please stop! I’m very sorry I didn’t tell you and I don’t know how I can make it up to you again but….I’m so sorry!” I said. “You know what’s funny? You even told me about your ex! The El Sereno guy! So you’re the El Sereno ex!” he said looking at Josh. “Wow, now it all makes sense!” Adam said and opened the door to get inside of the arena again. “Adam, wait!” I screamed and followed him inside.

I was running behind him and finally caught him right before he was entering the “Family & Friends” room. “I’m sorry. I’m very sorry and I don’t even know what to say now. I was afraid telling you because I didn’t want to ruin this concert for you” “So you better let me believing that Josh and you are just friends?” “Yes….” “You know what? I should’ve seen it myself when you two were talking at the gallery. It looked so close and trusted to me but I didn’t make a big deal about it. And when you told me you’re friends with him, I didn’t question it. I didn’t think he could be your ex” “I’m so sorry….really” I said looking to the floor. “Well” he sighed. “I don’t know what you two were talking about and what you had to discuss but I think it’s over now?” “Yeah, it definitely is over…” I let him know. “So….I’m also apologizing for my quick-tempered behaviour” “It’s okay…” “Should we….should we leave now?” “Yes please” I said and Adam finally put his arm around my shoulder. While we were walking to the exit Josh passed us again. We shared a look at each other but then he went away and Adam and I left the arena to go to his car.

_________ “Now, I have finally seen the light And I have finally realised what you need Now, I have finally seen the end And I'm not expecting you to care But I have finally seen the light And I have finally realised I need your love”

(Muse - Madness)

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