#every day we stray further from disco

[millieindeed]

Wow, deeply cursed merch, well done everyone.

You, too, can cosplay poverty with this €159 Disco Elysium carrier bag | Rock Paper Shotgun

[shadyb00ts]

A Chromatica Review

So I never really use Tumblr, but when I do go on here, it’s pretty much to review something long-form. As you can tell from my profile picture here, and from my glowing review of ARTPOP from 7 years ago, I am and have always been a Gaga stan. Just read the melodramatic first paragraph of my ARTPOP review and you’ll get the gist of how much I idolize this woman. Well, idolized. Past tense.

That’s not to say I suddenly hate Gaga–I’m still going to follow her career and listen to whatever she puts out. There have just been several factors this past year that have changed my perspective on how I view her, this album being one of those factors. But I’ll get to those later. First I just need to lay out all my issues with this album.

Yes, this is going to be that type of review, so if you’re a fellow Gaga stan that isn’t able to criticize her work, this probably isn’t for you. Otherwise please read to the end if you can, because this is honestly about more than just the album.

Issue #1: The Mismatch Between Music & Aesthetic

When the cover of the album came out, I was so gagged. Like, just look at it! It’s striking, and Gaga has rarely ever disappointed me when it came to visuals. Actually, I can’t even think of any visual choices she made in previous eras that disappointed me. Even in the Joanne era, the pink cowboy hat became iconic and all of her aesthetic choices fit with the overall vibe of that album cycle.

So naturally, when she revealed to us the new visual direction she was taking for Chromatica, I assumed it would give us some insight into how the music would sound. The aesthetic of this era always gave me grungy cyberpunk and heavy machinery tease. When I look at the album cover for example, I can hear a song produced by SOPHIE in my head, the clink-clank queen herself. (There were rumors that Gaga was going to or did work with SOPHIE but that was never confirmed, unfortunately for us.)

For those unfamiliar with SOPHIE, here’s Ponyboy, which was most recently used in the ad campaign for Beyoncé’s Ivy Park clothing line.

That was the kind of production I was more or less expecting when taking the visuals into account; dark, metallic, basically similar to ARTPOP’s production (to be honest ARTPOP sonically fits better with the Chromatica aesthetic; think about it). 

But what did we get? Light, garden variety dance pop, a stark contrast to what the album cover and the promo images teased us with.

In the album, we get these orchestral interludes that are beautiful but don't really mesh that well with the actual tracks. The songs don't have any orchestral elements by themselves, so the interludes felt a bit misplaced to me. I wish they'd incorporated more of that into the individual songs, so that there could be an orchestral through-line to give more cohesion, like what Ariana did in her album positions by using strings. However I will say, the transition from Chromatica II into 911 remains unmatched.

I get that the album is supposed to sound happy, that it was her returning to her “dance pop roots” and singing about serious topics like mental health over happy-sounding beats, because it’s supposed to reflect her current mental state. I get all that. But if that was the case, I think she should’ve gone with a different visual direction to match. Personally I wish she went a different direction musically instead, but even if it was just the other way around and she changed the aesthetic of this era, my opinion of the album would probably improve slightly, cause at least there would be cohesion between the visuals and the sonics.

I look at that album cover, and promo images like the one below, and then I listen to songs like Fun Tonight or Plastic Doll for example, and there’s a noticeable dissonance there. 

You might be thinking “why are you so hard on her for this?” and I guess it’s because I’ve always held Gaga to a high standard when it comes to how she links those two elements. Think of every era she’s had in the past, and you remember how the visuals always just worked with their respective albums.

And that’s before I’ve even talked about the videos. Oh lord, the videos.

Issue #2: The Videos Are Lackluster (Except For 911)

It started with Stupid Love, the lead single. I had mixed feelings about that song in the beginning, but because I was so thirsty for new music from Gaga at the time, I played that song like hell when it leaked and it was on rotation for a good while. But when Gaga premiered the Stupid Love video, I’m not going to lie; I really didn’t like it.

The whole “shot entirely on iPhone” schtick really did the video a disservice. I’m sorry but it had to be said. If I imagined the video with a higher budget and more of a plotline as opposed to just being a dance video, I think it could’ve worked a lot better and been a decent introduction to not only Chromatica the album, but this fictional world/planet that she’s created. Which by the way, she didn’t really deliver in that regard either. 

The concept of Chromatica being a fictional world could have been expanded on further; she could’ve showcased all of the different factions (I know they were called “tribes” at first but that’s appropriative so I’ll call them factions) and perhaps had an overarching storyline about how these factions are at war, and it’s Gaga’s job as one of the “Kindness Punks”, as she calls it, to bring everyone together for a rave.

This is why I will always say it: Chromatica needed to be a visual album. Just imagine the storyline I mentioned just now being turned into a full-length feature, and now imagine the album’s orchestral intro playing as they’re essentially opening the gates to Chromatica and Gaga discovers this world for the first time, and then it goes into the first song Alice where she’s meeting all the factions and getting acclimated to her surroundings.

Honestly I could go on and on cause I have thought about this for SO LONG now and I’ll never shut up about it. It’s just such a missed opportunity cause the concept was just begging for a visual album. Anyway sorry for my tangent: back to the Stupid Love video.

The whole “shot on iPhone” gimmick really was unfortunate. Like she really ruined the quality of a music video because she wanted that Apple check??? Come on, Gaga, there could’ve been some other way to secure that check.

And then there was the Rain On Me video, which definitely have visuals that are a massive improvement from Stupid Love because it was professionally shot and cinematic. But even that was another purely dance video with not much in the way of storyline. Not that storyline is always required for music videos, but I think specifically when it comes to Chromatica, not having storylines in the M/Vs does a disservice to the overall concept.

I guess my issue with these two music videos, but mostly Stupid Love, is that Gaga isn't fully utilizing her COIN. Like she's successful enough to the point where she has budgets for these videos and can go all out, but doesn't. She has the capacity for extremely high production value, but up until 911, the last video she did that had that level of extraness was G.U.Y. I miss the days when her music videos were an event. I still remember where I was and what I was doing the exact moment the Telephone video came out. That's impact.

Taylor Swift I think is somebody who really knows how to blow her budget on a video. Look What You Made Me Do may have been a terrible song, but I always thought the video was sickening.

Anyway, I have no notes on 911. She's a masterpiece. If there was a music video category at the Oscars, I'd be campaigning for it right now.

Issue #3: Any Other Girly Can Do This

The thing I always loved the most about Gaga's music was that nobody was doing it like her. Everything she put out always felt like it was distinctly hers and hers alone, it's unmistakable. Even in Joanne, despite that album being a major departure from what she normally did.

I know Joanne is a very polarizing album, even for Little Monsters, but personally I've always loved it. Joanne was an album that I always knew she would make and I thought was essential to her career and body of work. Despite her straying away from pop for a more earthy, grass roots sound, it still sounded very much like her music. Even from the first track, Diamond Heart, her DNA is all over that.

It's difficult to explain what exactly I mean when I say there's a certain signature "Gaga-ness" or that she has a very specific DNA injected into her songs. If you've been a fan of hers for a long time or followed her career, you probably understand what I'm referring to. It's the way she laughs maniacally in the beginning of ARTPOP on Aura, how she says "I don't speak German but I can if you like, OW!" and proceeds to recite broken German on Scheiße, how she invented the phrase "disco stick", literally the ENTIRETY of The Fame Monster.

These examples probably give you the gist of what I'm trying to convey. Gaga is fucking weird. She has always been fucking weird and I love that so much about her. And her brand of weirdness was so specific that if any of the other pop girls tried to do what she did, it would have been cringey as hell. To me, the most disappointing thing of all with this album was that this weirdness that was so uniquely hers was missing.

It's there in brief moments, in tracks like Sour Candy, 911 and Babylon, but most of the album doesn't really sound like her music. It sounds like songs that she wrote for other people, like her old unreleased stuff. OG Little Monsters probably remember songs like Second Time Around and No Way. These were leaked unreleased songs that Gaga had written for other artists, and even though they were absolute bops, they didn't sound like her. They weren't supposed to.

A similar feeling I had was when her song The Cure came out a few years ago. I genuinely thought that was something she wrote for someone else, cause even though it was a solid pop song, it absolutely had zero Gaga-ness and any current pop girl could sing it. This pretty much encapsulates how I feel about the majority of Chromatica.

I was gonna say it sounded like songs that were written for Ally, her Star is Born character, but I think even those pop songs from the soundtrack sounded more Gaga than Chromatica does. 💀 I can easily imagine Hair Body Face being on The Fame.

Final Thoughts

It's funny that the last review I had posted on here before this was my review of Kingdom Hearts III. The Kingdom Hearts game series is something that's very near and dear to my heart, and I waited a wholeass decade for the third game to come out. And then it did, and I was so disappointed.

So you know what happened after that? What helped me deal with my disappointment of that game was my anticipation for Chromatica, or at the time it was still called LG6. I had no idea I would feel the same exact way about this album the way I do about KH3. Now when I think of both of these things, I'm mostly frustrated by all of the potential and the missed opportunities, but I also look at them with a certain fondness. I had fun playing KH3, and I also had fun listening to Chromatica, despite both of them disappointing me overall.

In the beginning of this review I said that there were certain factors that have stopped me from idealizing Gaga too much. Firstly it's because I'm much older now, and secondly it's due to the sheer state of the world this past year. The pandemic really precipitated the fall of celebrity culture, and all of that made me really examine how putting someone on such a high pedestal can be damaging in the long run.

Gaga is a human being and I haven't agreed with everything she's done, particularly how she handled the whole R. Kelly situation back in 2013. And also the simple fact that she's a white woman, we know how a lot of the time they can't help but show their asses and are bound to disappoint us in some way. I'm forever grateful for her artistry and how she saved my life when I was a suicidal little eighth grader, but I'm also going to hold her accountable for any of her mistakes, and I'd be ready to stop supporting her entirely if anything she does ever goes too far.

Now I stan artists for fun. It's not healthy to idolize them to the point of revering them. I mean, I like to make jokes like that about Beyoncé, like "no way on Beyoncé's green earth", etc. But even she is just a person that we shouldn't deify for real.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that Chromatica being a lackluster album and era ended up being a good thing, because it helped me grow out of idolizing celebrities too intensely. Chromatica was pretty much the best disappointment I've ever listened to.

If you've read all the way to the end, thank you! Writing this was very therapeutic but also stressful; this is a second draft cause Tumblr fucked up my first post. 😭

Anyway, SAWAYAMA & Ungodly Hour are albums of the year. Argue with the wall.

[circuit-music]

2020 Music Recommendations

2020 – WHAT A SHIT YEAR! There was so much craziness in those 365 days – from politics to a pandemic. Music was often times one of those things we could take comfort in or use it as a tool to express a range of emotions. I’m always surprised when compiling these list (of which I’ve been doing for 20+ years now it seems) that no matter the state of the world, there is always an overabundance of great music to be discovered. 2020 musically, delivered - including surprising returns from some bands who’ve been rather quiet in the past years like Consolidated, Cabaret Voltaire, and Portion Control.  

The majority of what I listen to is electronic based music, with techno-body music being my favorite and there was STILL PLENTY of that in 2020 from labels like Aufnahme+Wiedergabe, Fleisch, Bite, X-IMG, Sonic Groove, SOIL, and more. Occasionally something a little lighter like the ethereal shoe-gaze goodness of Mint Julep (“Stray Fantasies” was an amazing record), or the post-punk of House of Harm (wonderful new discovery this year with “Viscous Pastimes”) and Sure (you all slept on “20 years” in 2020) works its way in to my listening. I still find synth pop from the likes of Riki, Korine, Tanz Waffen and Wingtips wonderfully appeasing. The wave material from the likes of Handful of Snowdrops, Linea Aspera, Zanias, Hante., Minuit Machine and Replicant was perfect for those melancholy moods. I even dipped into some aggressive near metal stuff this year from the likes of Pudeur, ESA and Youth Code – perfect for those days of anger.  Oh, and I was thrilled to see a lot of exclusive, unreleased and remixed Curve material surface this year – a band who embraces several genres (walls of guitar, shoe gaze, industrial) and moods.

This isn’t a top 10, top 25 or even a top 100. Instead, it’s an A-Z recommendation list encompassing many genres as those lines are getting more and more blurred. A good tune is a good tune, regardless of genre.  

HIGHLY encourage you to get out there and seek out new music; Visit the record stores, go hear a new DJ, fire up Spotify or another streaming service, check out some new music via podcast, DJ mixes, label sites, online retailers, even Facebook. One of the best sources for discovering new music is BandCamp - who in 2020 with the pandemic started BandCamp Fridays in which the site waived its normal fees to assist artist impacted. Taking place, the first Friday of every month, those will continue in 2021. There’s a plethora of discoveries to be found out there. If you do the work, you’ll be rewarded ;)     Speaking of Spotify – I made a playlist this year featuring plenty of the bands on my list. There’s at least a track or more from the artist who have a presence on Spotify. Sadly a few bands on this list aren’t on the platform, but check BandCamp and you can have a listen. Here’s the link:   https://open.spotify.com/playlist/02kQJZE7uvJxwHJD8j8zrh?si=SHlP4mVRTuaRejh6So3Mig

As in years past I’m certain I missed a few things, ignored the hype on certain releases or just plain forgotten something. It’s a chore to compile this list, but I love to do it. There’s a ton of new pioneering music out there for sure waiting to be discovered and it’s the “what’s next” that keeps me a motivated music fan. There’s never a dull moment in speaking, writing, DJ'ing or promoting new music, so I’ll keep doing it and hopefully be a guide for you all ;).   If it needs mention and I overlooked it - I may do an addendum in the next week or so. Anyways, got your notepaper and plenty of beverages ready? Don’t be a TL:DR (Too Long: Didn’t Read) fool. Read up. Enjoy the music of 2020!

Onwards with the list!!! :D  

2+2=5 - “Hidden In Plain Sight “ (COUP)  

Absolute Body Control   - “1980/2020” 3xLP (Oraculo Records)    

Agent 15   - “Voices In My Head” (Drone)  

Ah Cama-Sotz - “New Skin for Old Tribals “ (Self-released)  

Andi - “Corpse to Corpus” 12” (Aufnahme+Wiedergabe)    

Arabian Panther - “The Way of the Pentinent” EP (SOIL)  

Arnaud Rebotini – “Workout: This is a Quarantine EP6” (Self-released)  

Autumns - "You Always Taught Me Better" LP  (Detriti Records)  

Benedek - “Mr. Goods” 12” (L.I.E.S.)  

Blac Kolor   - “Extinction” EP  (Aufnahme+Widergabe)  

Blacksmith   - “Dominated” (X-IMG)    

Blitzkrieg Baby - “Remixed” (Aufnahme+Wiedergabe)    

Blush Response   - “Void In” LP (Megastructure)   - “Void Out” (Megastructure)    

Body Beat Ritual   - "Raw Dogs” EP (Pleasure Corp)  

Body Divide   - “Pleasure From Pain” (Squarewav)    

Cabaret Voltaire   - “Shadow of Fear” LP (Self-released)  

Calvary Stone - “Hate Unit” (Soil)  

Caustic - “The King of EBM” (Self-released)    

Cervello Elettronico - “No Sides” EP (SquareWav)  

Choke Chain - “Chain Tactics” (Self-released)   - “Grave” (Self-released)  

Chris Shape - “Shaped to Deform” (Unknown Pleasures Records)    

Chrome Corpse   - “Detecting Movement” Ltd. Edition 12" EP  (Oraculo Records)   - “Helmet Mounted Display” (Self-released)  

Chrome Corpse / Decent News   - “Split” (Self-Released)  

Codex Empire   - “Broken by Fear" Ltd. 12” (Horo)     - “Protected by Rage” 12”  (Aufnahme+Wiedergabe)  

Cold Cave   - “Waving Hands” (self-releaesed)  

Comfort Cure - “Serpentine City” (Rec.Body.Ltd)    

Consolidated - “Capitalism” (Self-released)  

Crystal Geometry   - “Samiam” EP (Sacred Court)   - “Senestre” 2x12” (Sonic Groove)  

Curve   - “Blindfold EP - Bootleg EP Series 1”  (Self-released)   - “Curve Oddities Bootleg Series 3” (Self-released)   - “Curve Oddities Bootleg Series 5” (Self-released)   - “Horror Head Raw DAT Mixes Bootleg Series 4” (Self-released)  

Cyan ID   - “Blurred Revelation” (X-IMG)  

Dive   - “Where Do We Go From Here” Ltd. Ed Box set (Out Of Line)    

E.L.I.   - “Dying to Live” (SOIL)    

E.S.A.   -  “Burial 10” (Negative Gain Productions)   -  “Eat Their Young / The Scorn” (Negative Gain Productions)  

Einstruzende Neubauten   – “Alles In Allem” (Potomak)  

Evil Dust   - “Desolation” (Crave Tapes)    

Fatal Morgana   -  “The Destructive Remixes” 12"   (Mecanica Records)   - “The Final Destruction” 2LP   (Mecanica Records)  

Filmmaker   - “Reinvent” 12” (Soil records)  

Fixmer - "Invasion” 12” (Bite)    

Fixmer/McCarthy   - “Unreleased From the Archives" (Planet Rogue Records)    

Foreign Policy   - “Watching Existence” 12” (X-IMG)  

Fractions   - “Nite NRG” (Monnom Black)    

Further Reductions - “Array” 12” (Knekelhuis)    

Hakai   – “No Flesh Shall Be Spared” 12” (Megastructure)  

Halv Drom   -  “Slum Vatic” LP (Fleisch)  

Handful of Snowdrops   - “Asymetrical” (NanoGénésie®) - “Echoes -The Complete Cover Collection” (NanoGénésie®)   - “The Four Winds” (NanoGénésie®)   - “The Impossible Dream” (NanoGénésie®)   - “Watch Me Bleed / Theme for Great Cities” (Self-released)  

Hante.   - “Fierce - Remixes & More” LP (Synth Religion)      

HKKPTR   - “Macht & Ohnmacht” EP (Aufnahme+Wiedergabe)    

House of Harm   - “Vicious Pastimes” LP (Avant!)  

Human Performance Lab   - “Impact Situation” 12"  (Aufnahme+Wiedergabe)  

Inhalt   - “Simulation” 2xLP Remixes (Mechatronica)  

Iron Court   - “Etched Forseights” (Detriti)    

Istigkeit & Angel Karel   - “You A’Int No Punk, You Punk”  (RND. Records)  

IV Horsemen   - “Compilation Vol. 1” (Self-released)     - “Human Crash” LP (Fleisch)    

Karger Traum   - “III” LP (DKA Records)    

Kenny Campbell   - “Blackest Ever Buckfast” (Drone)

King Dude   - “Full Virgo Moon” LP (Van)    

KLACK   - "Two Minute Warning” (Klackprodukt)   - “Move Any Mountain” (Self-released)     - “Catching Up with Klack” (Razgrom)   - “Distancing” (Self-released)   - “Move Any Mountain” (Self-released)     - “Probably” (Klackprodukt)  

Konkurs   - “Terminal Stage" (Megastructure, X-IMG)  

Kontravoid   - “Live from the Void” (Self-released)     - “Too Deep Remixes” (Fleisch)    

Korine   - “The Night We Raise” LP (Data Airlines)    

Kris Baha   - “Barely Alive” 12” (Emotional Especial)     - “Starts to Fall” 12” (Power Station)    

Kutkh Jackdaw   - “Sweat & Thunder EP and remixes” (Dark Disco)      

Lbeeze   - “Induced Expressions” (Phormix Tapes)    

Liebknecht   - “Demos The H4AR 2020" (Self-released)   - “Koln : Total Harmonic Noize remix” (Self-released)    

Linea Aspera   - “LP II” (Self-released)    

Looky Looky   - “Are You There Beach?” (Self-released)    

Machino   - “Ciudad Violenta” (X-IMG)    

Maedon   - “Escape To Berlin" (Sonic Groove)      

Marc Ash   - “Mirror Glaze Lavish" 12" EP (Fleisch)  

Marina Aleksandra   - “Animal Industrial Complex” (Randolph & Mort. mix)  

Max Durante   - “Fear and Desire” 12”  (Aufnahme+Wiedergabe)  

Mind | Matter   – “Souvenirs Brises” (Intervision)  

Mint Julep   - “Stray Fantasies” LP (Western Vinyl)    

Minuit Machine   - “Don’t Run From the Fire” 12” (Synth Religion)    

New Frames   - “Outer Limits” 12” (Bite)   - “RNF2” 12” (R Label Group)   - “Stylized Fear” 12” (Haven)    

Nordstaat   - “Singularity Second Coming” (X-IMG)  

NZ   - “More Of Us” 12” ltd. (Infacted Records)    

Objekt Clermont   - "Zeitgeist” EP (Self-released)  

Ofelia Ortodoxa   - “Maleficio” (Soil)    

Pablo Bozzi   - “Last Moscow Mule” (Dischi Autunno)   - “Walk on Wire” EP (Bite)  

Phase Fatale   - “Scanning Backwards” 2xLP (Osgut Ton)  

Portion Control   - “Head Buried” EP  (Portion-Control.Net)   - “Seed  1” EP (Portion-Control.Net)   - “Seed 2” EP (Portion-Control.Net)  

Pudeur   - “Magie Noire” (Area Z)    

Randolph & Mortimer   - “Enjoy More” 7” (Self-released)   - “Manifesto for a Modern World” 2xLP (Mecanica)     - “They Know We Know They Lie” (Self-released)   - “Union of the Faithful” (Self-released)    

Reka X Imperial Black Unit   - “Todo Avaricia” 12" EP  (Fleisch)  

Rendered   - “Stone Cold Soul” CD (Audiophob)    

Replicant   - "Regression” (Self-released)     - “Annihilation” (Self-released)  

Rhys Fulber   - “Diaspora” EP  (Aufnahme+Wiedergabe)   - “Resolve” (FR Recordings)  

Riki   - “Riki” LP (Dais Records)

Rommek   - “Break The Tension” 12” (Leyla Records)    

Salem Unsigned   - “Blood Origin” (RND.r recorcds)    

SARIN   - “Moral Cleansing Remixed" (Bite)      

Schwefelgelb   - “Der Puls Durch Die Schläfen Instrumentals" (n-Plex)     - “Der Puls Durch Die Schläfen" (n-Plex)     - “Die Stimme Drängt” 12"  (Cititrax)  

SDH - “Against Strong Thinking" 12" (Avant!)  

Size Pier   - “Typhoon in Busan” (X-IMG)    

Soft Crash   - “Spitzkrieg” 12” EP  (Bite)  

Soj   - “Land of Lovers and Hammers” (Infidel Bodies)   - “Slow Burn” (Industrial Complexx)    

Statiqbloom   - “Asphyxia Remixed” (Synthicide)      

Sure   - “20 Years” LP (Weyrd Sun Records)    

T_ERROR 404   - “Holographic Skull” (X-IMG)  

Tanz Waffen   - “Led Astray” (Self-Released)    

Teatre   - “Crime Imagery” (Self-released)  

Terrorfakt   - “Achtung 2020 Remixes” (SquareWav)    

The Marquis - “Poison” (Self-released)   - “Scab” (Self-released)    

Trauma Phase   - “Human Caused Disaster Response” (Detriti)   - “The Origin of Social Disabilities” (Self-Released)  

Unconscious   - “Regnum Novum” (X-IMG)     -"Slaves of System" LP  (Detriti)  

Unhuman   - “Voices of Distress” 12” (Bite)  

Various Artisits - “ASM II “ (Forkha) with: Chrome Corpse, Mind|Matter, The Undertaker’s Tapes, Evil Dust and more  

Various Artist -  “Meta Moto 4” (Meta Moto) with: Borsis Barksdale, Raw Ambassador, Filmmaker, Teatre and more

Various Artist - “Antikhrist Visions vol. II” LP (Industrias Mekanikas) with: Downwell, Delectro and more  

Various Artist - “BOY Records – Timeless Technology 1988 – 1991" 4xLP (Mecanica) Retrospective box of the legendary Boy label releases.  

Various Artist - “Crime Violente Vol.4”  (Up North Records) With: Calvary Stone, Lbeeze, Meshes and more  

Various Artist - “Dystopia in Action” 12” (X-IMG)     with: Alpha & Necromante, Kris Baha, Human Performance Lab and more  

Various Artist - “Ecdisis Vol 2” (Frigio Records) Snag this for the outstanding edit of Portion Control’s “Chew You to Bits”

Various Artist - “Murder 01” 12” (Murder) with: Codex Empire, Crystal Geometry, JK Flesh and more  

Various Artist - “Northern Nightmares Vol.1” (Up North Records) with: Autumns, Cardopusher, Teatre, Hate Magnum Opus and more

Various Artist - “Northern Nightmares Vol. 2” (Up North Records) with:  Notausgang, NGHTY, Violet Poison and more

Various Artist - “Sonic Groove: 25 Years 1995-2020" 2xLP (Sonic Groove) with: Orphx, Crustal geometry, Maedon, Rhys Fulber & Portion Control and more

Various Artist - “Uncanny Valleys Vol. 1” (Area Z) with: Chrome Corpse, Sarin x Imperial Black Unit, Celldod, IV Horsemen and more

Various Artist - “Uncanny Valleys Vol. 2” (Area Z) with: Ah Cama-Sotz, 3.14, MDS51 and more  

Various Artist - “Valley of Tears vol 1" 12” (Soil)   with: Imperial Black Unit, Fractions, Exhausted Modern and more

Various Artist - “Valley of Tears Vol. 2” 12” (Soil) with: SOj, Djedjotronic, Years of Denial and more  

Various Artist - “Seven Years of Delirium" (Liber Null)   with: Blush Response, NGLY, Zanias, Celldod, Phase Fatale and more  

Various Artist – “Detriti Split 1” 12” split vinyl (Detriti) with: Black Sun Dreamer and Trauma Phase

Various Artist – “Detriti Split 2” 12” split vinyl (Detriti) with: Mind | Matter and Iron Court  

Visceral Anatomy   - “Modern Anguish” EP  (Oraculo Records)  

Visitor   - “Technofossil” (Braid Records)  

Wingtips   - “Tears Of Pearls" (Self-released)    

Youth Code   - “Puzzle” (Self-Released)    

Zanias   - “Extinction” 12” (Fleisch)     - “Harmaline” (Self-Released)    

Zola Jesus   - “Live at Roadburn” (Roadburn Records)

[thekillerssluts]

Arcade Fire’s New Neighborhood: Indie Rock’s Biggest Act Is Infinitely Content In The Crescent City

In the music video for “Electric Blue,” Arcade Fire multi-instrumentalist and sometimes-frontwoman Régine Chassagne takes a stroll down Napoleon Avenue, walking, wiggling and singing her way through the aftermath of an unnamed Mardi Gras parade. While most New Orleanians will find a familiar sight in the hodgepodge of broken plastic beads, flashing police lights and clean-up crews, Arcade Fire sees something else. Namely the juxtaposition of beauty and alienation that has been a hallmark of the Canadian band’s work since their seminal debut, Funeral, turned indie rock on its head back in 2004.

“It was this really interesting scene right after the parade ends and before they clean it up. It’s this kind of desolate feeling of people stumbling around and the party’s over,” explains Arcade Fire frontman Win Butler, who co-directed the video with his cousin, Julia Simpson. “I just thought it was this really beautiful scene, with what it did to the light. It also fit some of the melancholy of the song a little bit, that feeling after the parade. It’s like, where do you go when it’s over?”

The emotional toll levied by that endless search for the next party is explored in more detail on “Signs of Life,” another single from Arcade Fire’s new album, Everything Now. For a band that has never had a shortage of things to say about the ways we find meaning in the monotony, this is thematically familiar territory. Though the music itself may have come a long way since the orchestral pop of their early releases, the message is as clear as it’s ever been. Arcade Fire is having second thoughts about society’s desire for instant and eternal gratification. Everything Now wants you to have second thoughts too, maybe even while dancing.

Primarily recorded in New Orleans, where Butler and Chassagne now reside with their four-year-old son (the pair have been married since 2003), Everything Now instantly shot to number one on the Billboard 200 when it was released earlier this summer. Yet despite its Big Easy origins, the city’s influence on the album is far from obvious. Songs like “Electric Blue,” “Signs of Life” and the title track seem to take more from the melodic disco of ABBA or the skittish new wave of Talking Heads than from anything associated with New Orleans’ storied musical history. If this town found its way into Arcade Fire’s sound, it did so in ways that are more abstract

“We weren’t looking to do what you would maybe think of as cliché New Orleans. [The city’s influence] was more in a feeling of freedom, in mashing genres and not worrying about it,” Butler says.

“We would go see the TBC Brass Band play a lot, and some of the other great brass bands. How these bands play in the pocket is very inspiring. It just makes you want to have a better feel I guess,” he adds. “Being in the same physical space as a band that’s so much better than you at something is… I think it’s the same reason the CBGB scene was what it was. You had the Ramones, the Talking Heads, Blondie, Patti Smith and it’s all so different from each other, but there’s no way the Talking Heads didn’t hear the Ramones and want to play harder and tougher. There’s no way that Talking Heads didn’t make the Ramones want to be poppier. In a certain sense, it ends up rubbing off on you. Even though the Ramones sound nothing like the Talking Heads, it still makes you want to get back and work, just being around greatness.”

“Every single time I see Charlie Gabriel [of Preservation Hall Jazz Band] play the saxophone, I stop whatever I’m doing. He’s on so many of the Motown records I’ve listened to my whole life. Aretha Franklin too. Pretty much every note he plays is so thoughtful and coming from a deep place. You can’t help but be inspired.”

Butler and Chassagne moved to New Orleans in 2014 following Arcade Fire’s second appearance at Jazz Fest. At the time, the band was in the middle of a grueling tour supporting their fourth album, Reflektor. That record marked a bit of a stylistic shift as the group veered further into dance rock territory and incorporated Afro-Caribbean musical influences, particularly Haitian rhythms, into their sound. It was an interesting move for an act whose previous album, The Suburbs, was lauded enough to earn a Grammy Award for Album of the Year. For some fans, the changes were divisive. But for Butler, the new musical direction—and the subsequent move to New Orleans—felt just right.

“I grew up in Houston and my dad came to New Orleans a lot for work, so I visited when I was a kid. Régine, my wife, her family is from Haiti and she grew up in Montreal,” Butler says. “If you were to make a triangle of Haiti, Houston and Montreal, [New Orleans] is kind of in the exact middle of that triangle. So we always felt culturally at home in a way that Régine never felt anywhere else in the U.S.”

“I think the last time we headlined Jazz Fest, we stayed there for like three weeks and we didn’t even really talk about it,” he continues. “It just kind of happened. We didn’t have a big conversation about it. We just kind of looked at each other and were like, ‘Yep, this is where we’re going to stay.’”

By the fall of 2014, Arcade Fire had wrapped up their Reflektor tour and settled into a performing hiatus that would last nearly two years. The much-needed break from the road gave Butler and Chassagne time to get better acquainted with their new home, and the pair quickly discovered an arts scene that was as vibrant as anything they’d encountered in other parts of the world. The fact that this scene extended beyond the confines of what most people consider “New Orleans culture” only made it that much better.

“I just barely caught it, but there was this huge graffiti project that happened on the West Bank,” Butler says, referring to street artist Brandan “B-mike” Odums’ acclaimed 2014 project ExhibitBE. “That was incredible. I thought that was a really world-class art event… I had to jump the fence to see it because they had just closed it, but that kind of shit I find really inspiring. There was so much great work and so many man hours put into it and such talent. That shit’s not happening in Brooklyn.”

Their extended break from touring also gave Butler and Chassagne a chance to get acquainted with some of their new friends in town, including Preservation Hall Jazz Band creative director Ben Jaffe. After meeting him at California’s Coachella festival, the pair quickly developed a rapport with the bassist/tuba player, who has since become one of their best friends. “Our kids play together,” Butler notes.

Arcade Fire’s growing relationship with Jaffe and the PHJB would eventually take the form of a very public collaboration when the time came to honor one of the greats. For Butler and Chassagne, David Bowie wasn’t just a musical and cultural pioneer; he was an early proponent of their work and, more importantly, a friend. His death in January 2016 affected them deeply, so when Jaffe suggested putting on a memorial for the late English rock icon, they got to work planning something special.

“I don’t think it was on anyone’s radar how hard it was going to hit when he passed, or that he would pass,” Butler says. “The way he made that record [Blackstar] and gave it to the world right as he died. The whole artfulness of his whole, basically his whole career, it just felt very fitting. It seemed like a lot of people would want to have some way to mourn him in a public way.”

Somber occasions often have a way of taking on a celebratory tone in New Orleans, and a memorial parade for David Bowie was the celebration many New Orleanians didn’t know they needed. At least not until the idea was presented to them. Before the PHJB and Arcade Fire announced the event, they secured a permit for a 400-person parade through the French Quarter. When the memorial went down two days later, thousands showed up to join in.

In hindsight, it’s kind of baffling that they expected anything less. The middle of January is the middle of Carnival season, after all. Beyond that, Bowie was nothing if not a champion of freedom and creativity. He may not have had many personal connections to this city, but none of his myriad personas would ever seem out of place in, say, the French Quarter. They certainly didn’t seem out of place that day when a mass of costumed people followed the PHJB, Chassagne and a megaphone-wielding Butler down Toulouse Street to the river.

“Even if you don’t know someone, you have this intimacy from listening to their records. And he touched so many people at so many different points of his career,” Butler says. “He was someone I really looked up to and was lucky enough to collaborate with… He deserved a big send-off.”

Still, the gathering was not without its critics. Some locals wondered if the PHJB had strayed too far from its original mission, while others questioned whether it was right to call the event a second line (it was originally billed as such before quickly being relabeled a “memorial parade”). It’s an impulse Butler understands, even if he doesn’t think he’s the right target.

“New Orleans should defend its culture, of course, by all means necessary,” Butler declares. “I lived in Montreal for 15 years, where they have extremely intense laws about language… I think, ultimately, the reason that people still speak French in Montreal and they don’t speak French in Louisiana is because they fought extremely hard to defend that culture. So I think that it’s worth defending, and I personally don’t feel like us doing a parade for David Bowie really encroaches on the spirit of New Orleans in any way. It’s something that, if we tried to do it any other city, it just wouldn’t happen.”

“I don’t think I’m the best symbol for the problem of gentrification in New Orleans, but if people want to make me into that, then I’m cool with that too,” he continues. “That’s totally fine. I mean, I live Uptown. I don’t live in the Bywater. My neighborhood was gentrified like 200 years ago. But my only minor quibble is that I think there are a lot of people that aren’t actually from New Orleans that end up dominating the conversation. There are a lot of adoptee New Orleans people that, a lot of the time, have the loudest voices about some of the politics of it, but I think the instinct is absolutely correct.”

Around the same time that Arcade Fire led a very public procession through the streets of New Orleans, they privately began the yearlong process of recording Everything Now. While parts of the album were laid down in Montreal and Paris, the bulk of it—“80 percent to 90 percent” by Butler’s estimation—was recorded at the band’s own BoomBox Studios in New Orleans. These sessions featured production from Thomas Bangalter of French electronic music giants Daft Punk and bassist Steve Mackey of British alt-rockers Pulp. Lost Bayou Ramblers drummer Eric Heigle, whose production credits include Anders Osborne, Eric Lindell and GIVERS, engineered the whole album and helped the band get their studio up and running. The record was also mixed at New Orleans’ Parlor Recording Studio.

“Motown’s studio in Detroit is like down in the basement of a house. It’s this tiny room,” Butler adds. “Most studios you go to have this sound-deadening foam everywhere, and the idea is to suck up all the sound and to isolate everything. When I first went to Motown, they had lacquered wood on the walls about shoulder height. The idea was that sound bounces and hits the ears of the musicians and it’s a more exciting sound.”

“The idea [for BoomBox Studios] was to take—we had this really small space, maybe 18 feet by 10 feet with a really tall ceiling—just one room and put all the gear in there and have all the kinetic energy of everyone bouncing off each other physically, and the sweat, and just kind of play.”

Arcade Fire got into something of a routine as the album was coming together. Two or three week sessions with the full band—Chassagne, Win Butler, Will Butler (keys, bass), Jeremy Gara (drums), Tim Kingsbury (guitar, bass) and Richard Reed Parry (guitar)—would be followed by reflective periods in which the group listened to its new material and tinkered with arrangements. All those stints in New Orleans rubbed off on the other members too, especially Parry. Originally an upright bass player, his frequent trips to Preservation Hall inspired him to dive back into the instrument with renewed vigor. “He got pretty deep into it,” Butler recalls.

Arcade Fire recruited a few New Orleans musicians to join them in their new studio as well, including Helen Gillet, Rebecca Crenshaw and Preservation Hall’s own Charlie Gabriel. The Harmonistic Praise Crusade, a local choir, contributed some backing vocals, as did a choir consisting of Jelly Joseph (of Tank & the Bangas), Akia Nevills, Kayla Jasmine and Tracci Lee. Canadian musician and producer Daniel Lanois, who ran Esplanade Avenue’s famed Kingsway Studios in the ’90s, even added his pedal steel to two tracks.

Notably, Arcade Fire’s New Orleans–based fans have their own moment on the new LP.During the band’s headlining set at Voodoo Fest 2016, Butler asked the crowd to join him in singing part of what would become the title track from Everything Now. After a few minutes corralling the crowd, they got what they were looking for. “You’ll thank me when you’re older,” Butler joked at the time.

“It’s used in the breakdown, that kind of a sing-along part during the breakdown of the song,” he says. “It was tough getting people to sing something they’ve never heard before. Now that the record’s out, everyone sings it. But it was sort of an experiment because I was just kind of hearing a crowd singing that part, and it seemed like the best way to do that was to have an actual crowd singing that part rather than faking it.”

In the months after that Voodoo Fest set, Butler made a number of trips to the Smoothie King Center in New Orleans’ Central Business District. He wasn’t there to rehearse for an arena tour. He was simply enjoying one of his favorite pastimes: basketball. A student of the game since childhood, Butler played reserve center and power forward on his high school’s varsity team. The 6’ 4” rock star even took home the MVP trophy at last year’s NBA All-Star Celebrity Game.

When asked if moving to New Orleans has turned him into a Pelicans fan, Butler replies with a very emphatic, “F**k yeah, man.” His thoughts on the team could warrant a story of their own, but it’s safe to say he’s been following them closely. And like many fans of the Pelicans, he has a few ideas for turning their fortunes around.

“[Anthony Davis] is a once-in-a-decade sort of talent. That dude could totally bring a championship to New Orleans and they better try,” Butler says of the Pelicans star. “Jrue [Holiday] is a top-five defender in the NBA. AD is a top-five defender. We could be a dominant defensive team. So to me, it’s a bit like the Spurs where you just need dudes that can shoot and play defense… I don’t think you need a lot of playmaking and shit when you have Anthony Davis and Boogie. Those dudes are going to get 70 a night, and then everyone else on the court should be able to shoot and play D. No exceptions.”

Butler’s basketball fandom extends to the University of New Orleans too, and he often goes to shoot hoops at the school’s Lakefront Arena. When the team graduated a number of seniors last year, they needed an extra player to run 5-on-5 during practice. Butler was happy to be the tenth man for a couple of weeks.

“I would just come and scrimmage at the end of practice, which is pretty much my dream in life. To not have to do the basketball practice and like lift weights, but to play,” he says. “So I definitely have a soft spot for that team.”

Incidentally, Butler will return to the Lakefront Arena when Arcade Fire headlines the venue on September 26 as part of their “Infinite Content” tour. They’ll be supported by Wolf Parade, another indie rock outfit that got its start in the same Montreal music scene that birthed Arcade Fire.

“We’ve been doing these shows with the stage in the middle of the room, kind of like a boxing ring,” Butler explains. “There are so many musicians in the band, and the stage is really small, so there’s been an extremely fresh energy. It really changes how you play songs… We love playing Jazz Fest, but this will be cool too because the production of our show is something we put a lot of work into, and it’s really a whole different animal.”

Considering Arcade Fire’s upcoming touring schedule—the band has 40-plus dates in three continents on the horizon—Butler and Chassagne won’t be spending as much time in New Orleans as they’d like in the near future. “Unfortunately, my professional obligations are kind of like being in a pirate ship,” Butler laments.

Nevertheless, the pair would like to dedicate more time to their philanthropic endeavors when their schedule allows it. In particular, they’d like to continue their involvement with the Preservation Hall Foundation, as well as their work with the KANPE Foundation, a group that provides aid to rural communities in Haiti (Chassagne, whose parents fled Haiti in the 1960s during the Duvalier dictatorship, co-founded the latter organization). Those worlds actually collided in December 2015, when the PHJB helped KANPE bring instruments to a youth group in the Haitian village of Baille Tourible.

Additionally, Butler would like to assist groups that are fighting some of this state’s most important political battles. “Something that’s really close to my heart in New Orleans that—I’ve kind of put out feelers—but something that I would like to be a lot more heavily involved with is prison reform in Louisiana. To me, one of the most heartbreaking aspects of the last election was being so close to getting rid of private prisons and then having it be deferred, having all that work go in the garbage,” he says. “If anyone, through this article, has any way I can be helpful in moving that conversation along… I’m all ears.”

It’s encouraging to hear that Butler is concerned with local political issues. Over the decades—the centuries, really—artists who fall in love with New Orleans have been a dime a dozen. From Edgar Degas to Tennessee Williams and Trent Reznor, countless people have created beautiful works here, only to pack their bags when the muse calls them elsewhere. If one is truly to make their home in this place, they need to confront the bad as well as the good. When it comes to New Orleans, Butler has no qualms insisting his relationship isn’t a fling.

“It’s the only city in America I could imagine living in,” he says. “It’s where we’ve chosen to raise our son. We’re not pulling up stakes, other than this pirate ship of a tour that we have to do for an indeterminate amount of time. I have a picture on a wall in my house of my grandfather [swing era bandleader Alvino Rey] playing with Louis Armstrong. It’s not a passing flirtation.”

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE -----

For those interested: I’ll be posting segments of my Music Masters series through this tumblr account.  Due to the nature of the story, song links will be linked where relevant.

Anyway, on with the story.

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WHITE KNUCKLE RIDE: PART ONE

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Music is truly a marvel of human invention.

In essence, it's nothing more the configuration of sounds in a set pattern, sometimes produced through our vocal cords, or often times through contraptions consisting of nothing more than strings and pieces of metal and wood.

But the beauty of music is not in how it's created, but in the inevitable result. It is a deliberate pattern of sounds that can be interpreted in an infinite number of ways, and loved by people all over the world, if not throughout the known universe.

Michael Kay is one of those people.

And this is his story, his white knuckle ride; in all it's long playing glory.

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It was in all likelihood very frustrating to be the neighbor of Colleen Kay.

As a relatively hard-working twenty-something, Colleen peacefully came and went from her Washington Heights apartment when work demanded her to do so. She waved at the neighbors when they waved first, usually acknowledged the postman, and put long and stressful hours at her nursing job. So one could only assume that in the hours she wasn't home, there should be nothing but peace and quiet.

If not for her afro-headed brother, of course.

It was just another typical afternoon for Michael Jason Kay, the spotlights in his room practically high-beams, and his music so loud that it seemed to warp the walls of his room with each bass strum.

Taller than most boys his age, Michael Kay flowed like water, his red sneakers burning up the dance floor with each step. As the pumping disco beat pulsed around him, he bounced back and forth with near perfect sync.

Though his room was small, it was big enough to fit the configuration of colored spot lights he had bought to emulate the heart of a disco dance floor. The room lit up with a turquoise glint, reflecting off his tan skin as his large orb of hair bobbed and his record player continued to play its soulful melody in the corner.

Eyes closed, lost in the music, Michael could feel words just beginning to escape his lips as he descended into boogie wonderland.

"Got canned heat in my heels tonig-"

Unfortunately for him, those next words never came. Instead, a voice seemed to pierce the wall of noise. A very familiar voice that he hated to hear on days like this.

"Michael! Can you please turn it down just a decibel, please?!"

Michael's eyes snapped open, and he felt his hips sway out of his control. They bounced against his dresser, nearly knocking over his prized lava lamp. Michael reached for it like a clumsy ape, catching it just in time and then proceeding to groan audibly as he pulled the needle off his vinyl copy of Synkronized.

Switching off his strobe lights, his face soured. Thanks to his always wonderful sister, the moment was gone.

Michael stepped out of his room, hands buried in his pockets as he whined.

"Oh come on, Colleen! That was my jam! I was in the moment, you know? The moment!"

His sister's tone of voice was nothing short of uninterested. She was clearly far more concerned with fixing her curly black hair in the mirror.

"Well that's too bad.", she began, as Michael plopped down on the couch nearby. "Because until you have enough money to go ahead and soundproof your room, there's only so many of your moments I can take. And let's not even get started on the other tenants."

Michael grinned to himself. "Oh come on. I don't play it that loud."

His toothy smile had close to no effect on his older sister. She simply picked up her work notepad from her desk before dropping it right on Michael's stomach.

"I'm not here to argue with you, little brother. Now I need you to run down to the store for me and grab what's on the list. And only what's on the list." she stated, as poured herself a glass of water from the tap. The heat still permeated in their cramped apartment in these final days of summer.

"What!? Why can't you just do it? You're supposed to be off today, and I have a dance routine to perfect." Michael protested.

Colleen simply put her hands up as she shook her head with frustration. "I had off. But Christy decided to get sick yet again, and we need the cash for next month. The least you can do for me is this one tiny task."

His sister reached for her beige coat, checking her baby blue scrubs in the mirror for stray stains. "I'm sure it'll only take you ten minutes, tops."

Michael let out a long sigh. He stuffed the note in his pocket, grumbling to himself as he headed for the front door.

"Yeah. Ten minutes I could be using practicing some killer moves..."

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If there was but one solace of having to walk the six blocks out to the grocery store, it was that Michael's music could always come with him. As a listener of the classics, having been bought a vinyl player by Uncle Rob on his seventh birthday, Michael Kay still understood the importance of modern music players. He grinned to himself as he shuffled through his various disco and funk songs, the mental play list already forming in his mind.

It was but two days away from the end of summer vacation, but the seasonal colors still prevailed over the New York City skyline. Michael was never one to control his urges, his feet shuffling slightly and his shoulders popping as he walked along the sidewalk to his destination. Even in the busy street, not a taxi cab driver cursing nor a dog barking would interrupt him from his self-imposed sound zone.

As Michael Kay walked, he was far too engrossed to pay attention to the Dust Bowl; an old skate park in the neighborhood always populated by teenagers, local or otherwise. His headphones offered privacy away from the city's ambiance, and thus he continued to grin to himself as he went along.

So naturally, he couldn't hear the sound of skateboard wheels grinding against asphalt, even as this one particular set skidded off the rail and to a halt as he passed by the fence separating the Dust Bowl from the sidewalk. A set of dark green eyes watched him from beneath a tangled mess of brown hair as he remained oblivious. She scanned him up and down; noting his huge black afro, his red sneakers, navy blue jeans and the piercing colors of his tie dye shirt, which was embedded with the design of a pitch black vinyl record.

Then all of sudden, she winced under her breath, instinctively holding her hands up to her ears as a jolt of sound broke her from her train of thought.

It wasn't his appearance that bothered her. He looked like a moron, for sure, but she could ignore that.

No, it was the infernal noise going through his ears. A high-pitched singer was like a wailing ghost invading her eardrums.

To most people, the music coming from someone's headphones over sixty feet away wouldn't be a bother. Because even at the loudest volume in a much closer proximity, Michael Kay's music would come off as an unintelligible mix of squeals and whistles.

And on top of that, the heavy, dark blue headphones guarding her ears would have guaranteed she wouldn't hear anything but hard guitar strums and bleating punk rock beats.

Except that this girl wasn't like most people. She grimaced through her green lipstick as she propped up her skateboard, the sound of his music grating at her ears painfully. It was like a stereo in the other room; she couldn't hear it perfectly, but she could still hear it.

She watched him like a hawk as he passed by, his music thankfully getting further and further away. After another few seconds, and he was out of sight, and the disco strings, now out of mind.

But the girl still spit out venom, as a few other skaters passed behind her, unaware of her plight.

"Oh great. The disco circus is in town."

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Michael Kay surveyed the covers in front of him, a gleam in his eyes as he grinned. Looped around his right wrist were Colleen's groceries. However, as she had time and time again before, she forgot how much the groceries actually cost.

And so with all the essentials covered, Michael decided that a little reward was in order. And thus, here he was, patrolling the aisles of Audio Empire, the most prolific music store in his immediate Washington Heights neighborhood.

Though he owned a great many albums on vinyl, Michael always had room in his tiny closet for one more. As he flipped through everything from The Whispers to Barry White to The Bee Gees, he wondered what particular artist tickled his fancy today. It didn't take him long to spot something of interest; a rare special edition cut of Parliament Gold. Michael grinned at his luck, inadvertently talking to himself as he hurried towards the cashier.

"Oh man, Rob would love this. I bet he memorized every single bass line."

The words were low, but a moment later than they were still enough to make the boy's expression slowly sink.

If there was one thing that made him more unhappy than being forced on grocery runs, it was remembering Rob. Michael looked back at the aisles as he stood in line, his mind visualizing his first trip here. It coalesced into a vivid memory, the image of his uncle with his pulled down cap and large bass guitar case on his back thrust into Michael's mind.

This was back when his hair was of normal length, and he still remembered the warmth of Rob's hand on his shoulder, and the joy in his eyes upon being bought a copy of The Jacksons' Destiny.  

This album had been Michael Kay's very first vinyl record, and it was this purchase that ignited in him a love of disco music that would follow him for the rest of his life.

Though these memories were happy, there still remained the painful fact of the present.

Michael Kay hadn't seen his uncle Rob since he was seven years old. Rob, and these memories of him, seemed like a world away.

"...Howdy, and welcome to Audio Empire! How can I help you today?"

Michael's mind was practically glazed over. He nearly jumped out of skin when the girl repeated herself.

The afro-headed boy blinked. In front of him, a blond cashier with distinctly lightning-shaped earrings and a blue checkered blazer smiled as politely as she could as she waited for him to respond. He laughed awkwardly, placing his chosen album on the counter.

"Oh! Most definitely! Just picking this up." he replied. The girl ringed in his purchase as he shook his mind out of past thoughts.

"That'll be a dollar fifty!" she exclaimed, her tone clearly excitable now. Michael handed over a crumpled dollar and change.

She waved as her register dinged. "Come back real soon!"

Michael largely ignored her upbeat attitude, but that didn't seem to affect her much, as she seemed just as eager when the next customer approached the counter behind him.

Michael stepped out of the automatic doors as he popped his headphones in. As the music overtook him, he felt the overwhelming need to move his body again. Canned Heat was calling to him, and he switched to the song.

"No interruptions this time." he said to himself, a dumb smile forming on his face as the song lit up his soul.

-----

The walk back was relatively short, but it gave Michael enough time to loop Canned Heat more than once. Though it was getting pretty windy, Michael didn't mind one bit. He was distracted again, moving to his own tune as he practically danced along the route back to the apartment.

Michael always thought that if John Travolta could make walking look funky, he could too. Of course, most of his fellow pedestrians probably wouldn't agree. Luckily, the streets were mostly empty this afternoon.

It had been a good half hour, but that was nowhere near enough time to make the girl at the Dust Bowl forgot about Michael's music. As he absentmindedly passed by the fence, the messy-haired skater girl was once again assaulted by a piercing interruption of foreign music. It was like another channel in her head, spilling into her punk rock song like a pool of sludge into clear water.

She sat up from the stone bench, ignoring the other skaters in the bowl below as her gaze focused on the afro-headed idiot from before.

"Not this junk again." she groaned. Nearby, a boy clad in shoulder length dreadlocks responded mockingly.

"What junk? You talking about the way you skate, girl?" he chortled, too busy laughing to himself to notice her approaching in his direction.

He barely had time to react as she stepped hard on his board, forcing its center of gravity upward and tossing him off completely. He tumbled down into the skate bowl, scratching himself a bit, but it didn't seem to phase the girl one bit.

"...maaan! It was a joke!" he exclaimed, pulling himself up and rubbing his now scratched arm as a few other skaters chuckled at his plight.

"You new here?" one of them said, being kind enough to help the boy up. "My advice to you: don't joke with Kim. I'm pretty sure her sense of humor is MIA."

The boy simply replied with a nervous smile, wondering what crawled up her spine to make her so irritable.

Meanwhile, Kim was now much closer to the fence separating the Dust Bowl from the sidewalk, watching the afro-headed boy twirl around a lamppost like a moron to the sound of his music.

Reaching into the trash nearby, she was able to find a serviceable soda can, and her expression softened with confidence. Focusing her eyes under her brown bangs, she waited for the perfect moment.

And it was just as Michael Kay began belting out lyrics that she found it. With a strong swing, the can went catapulting over the fence.

"I used to worry about the fut-"

The words were unable to fully escape his lips as the can made impact with the left side of his face. He yelped like a dog as he almost fell off balance, twirling awkwardly as he just barely regained his footing.

Kim laughed under her breath at the sight.

"Score."

Once he began to really feel the pain, Michael simply nursed his eye as he looked downward, picking up the stray red can and wondering what exactly had happened.

"Hey, what gives!?" he exclaimed, looking around but not immediately finding a culprit to blame. He was speaking loudly over his music, his eyes now focusing on he can in his hand as the pain in his eye started to subside.

"Going around throwing that...canned heat?"

The words sort of slipped out of his mouth. For a moment, he focused away from the pain, and from the can in his hand. When he really looked at, it reminded him of the same red-orange on the cover of the single version of Canned Heat. The album itself was pushed up against others back in his room closet.

But for some reason, the image really spoke to him this time. It coursed through his mind, enveloping his senses to the point where the imagery began to associate with sensation. In a way, it connected directly with the music playing in his ears.

And so, like he had done many times in the past, Michael focused on the music. He let his mind drift into another self-imposed sound zone. He could hear the strings, the vocals, the soft clanging of the drums. He listened to the bass, closing his eyes and imagining every strum going through every fiber of his being.

He saw heat. Or at least, a visual representation of heat. It manifested in his mind as the shimmering mirage one might seen in a desert, though it glowed with red-orange intensity like the art on the Canned Heat single.

Strangely though, it felt real. The shimmering heat became less like a dream and more like a sensation. Seconds later, and his right hand began to heat up.

The chorus blared with intensity. Michael opened his eyes as they echoed through his eardrums.

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-----

Amazingly, the heat was now all too real.

Michael's expression went wide, as what was left of the can dripped down his palm like it had been melted by a death ray. His right hand was now sheathed in the same shimmering red-orange aura, which burned bright enough to make him squint. He wondered what he was seeing in front of him, or perhaps it was just that the can had just given him one hell of a concussion.

When he blinked, and the heat was still there, it was obvious this wasn't a hallucination.

And so, Michael reacted naturally.

"Oh man!" he cried out like a small child, shaking his hand wildly as if to remove the fiery aura, but to no avail. "Get it off! Get it off, get if off, get it off!"

The heat seemed stuck to him though, and grabbing onto the fence yielded nothing more than a loud sizzling as it began to melt away at the old metal. The remains of the can had been vaporized at this point.

Almost by instinct, Michael reached for his headphones with his non-burning hand, pulling one off and then the other as he continued to stare in disbelief. And in the instant the music was not playing in his ears, the shimmering heat aura seemed to fade away. Like someone pulling the plug on an amp, it was simply gone.

Michael did a double take, looking around. A few pedestrians stared at his general oddness, but it appeared that no else noticed the shimmering red-orange heat that enveloped his hand just moments before. And if they had noticed, neither people walking nor skaters nearby seemed to care. Michael felt beyond confused, but it was at this point that he finally noticed the girl through the fence, who glared at him in some sort of disbelief.

She was only somewhat surprised at this sudden display of power, oddly enough.

Their gazes met, and Michael took in her appearance. She had very messy, shoulder length brown hair. Her ensemble consisted of heavy green lipstick, a purple tank top, toxic green pants held up by a dull orange belt, and bulky combat boots. Despite her intimidating appearance, she was still a girl, that much was certain.

Spotting the curiosity in his eyes, Kim was quick to turn aside. She wanted nothing to do with him now that his detestable music was off for the time being.

And though she was some twenty feet away now, Michael could have sworn that he heard the few words she mumbled under her breath as she walked away.

"Another Music Master. Wonderful. Because that's exactly what this crummy neighborhood needed..."

Michael pressed himself up against the bars of the fence, but now Kim was clearly out of reach. The words echoed in his head. Had his hearing always been this good?

Music Master.

That had to be exactly what she said. Michael mouthed the same words, his mind beginning to fantasize a possible meaning. Did it have something to do with what had just happened?

He debated calling out to the girl, but judging by her attitude, it didn't seem worth it.

Michael turned away, now looking at his once prized music player with creeping apprehension.

There was a connection between what had happened and the song that had been playing in his ears, that much was for sure. Was it safe to even try listening to Canned Heat again? And if Michael did even dare to try it, what if something worse happened? He imagined bursting into flame.

Michael then gulped at a grim thought. One that was far worse than the prospect of his afro being lit up like an effigy.

Was it ever safe to listen to any of his music again?

Fast forward to the next track....

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTE: More sensuality. Dry-humping.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Some time around five in the morning, Anna gave up on sleep completely. Sidling over to Elsa's desk, she 'borrowed' a piece of paper and a pencil. She wasn't going to get any more sleep, so she may as well use the time to plan.

Kristoff. Elsa had to fall for Kristoff, not her. They had to get married and have kids – and maybe when Anna was back in her own time she could try and help fix their relationship then, too. However, she had to figure out how to make all of this happen without screwing everything up as badly as she had been so far or she would never get the chance.

So by the time she made it to Kristoff's that morning, seeing that he was up early and doing the family laundry, she had something a little more concrete to work with. About the only plan she could see that would do the trick. The problem seemed to be that Anna was "cool" and appealing, and Kristoff was just boring in a relative sense. Maybe she couldn't exactly make herself less attractive to her young mother, nor could she make Elsa purebred-hetero, but she had a possible solution to put her dad back in the running.

"Alright, walk me through this again," he sighed as he tossed in the dryer sheet. "You're going to the dance with her, but she's going to end up with me? That's doesn't make sense."

"It's just a backup plan, Dad. Uh… I mean, rad. I mean, that doesn't make any sense, either." Shaking out her head, she tried to push through and cut to the chase. "You can still ask her during the party, but if it doesn't work, I think you sailing in like Batman will make her notice you."

Nodding, he slammed the door and it started tumbling their clothes. "Fine, fine," he sighed as he turned back to the basket, picking out a few clothes to toss in the washer. "And I do love Adam West. But the part I don't get is, how am I saving her from you? I mean, she's your friend."

'Oh, honey,' she thought. He was looking at her with an expression almost as naïve as his words. "Well…" Clearing her throat, she turned away. "Elsa's a sweet girl. Nervous and kinda delicate. So when I get a little rough with her… she'll want someone to save her from that."

"Rough how?"

"Handsy." When Kristoff was still just blinking at her, she went on, "Come on, not even you can be this dense! I'm gonna take advantage of her!"

"WHAT?! You mean you're gonna touch her on her, her…" As he gesticulated, Anna winced to see that her paternal grandmother's bra was in one of his hands. "But you're both girls! A-and- ohhh, what the hell?!"

"Kristoff, calm down!" Taking the bra from him, she tossed it into the washer and tried to ignore how red his face was getting. Probably a lot like her own. "It's just an act! Besides, if you stick to the schedule, I won't even get any further than pushing her down and looking at her funny, right? Just enough to make her worried, and for you to look like the hero."

He still looked incredibly unsure, but at least he wasn't arguing anymore. Still, she knew what he was thinking because she was thinking it, too.

"Look," she sighed, somewhat morosely. "I'm not going to hurt her for real. I promise. Like you said, she's my friend, and… and I care about her a lot. So chill."

Finally, he smiled. It was a little weak and lopsided, but hey, it was there. The moment was broken when the dryer gave a particularly loud thunk. Kristoff jumped; Anna shrieked. For a moment, the only noise was the sound of the machine, cheerfully chugging along.

Then Kristoff started laughing. Heart still thundering in her chest, Anna could only glare at him for a few moments. His face was redder than before, face screwed up in mirth. Were those tears in his eyes? But then he didn't stop. Every time his laughter slowed, all he had to do was look at Anna and it renewed. Soon she was giggling along with him. Slowly her irritation was replaced with something else: a feeling of camaraderie – foreign, much like most of the positive emotions she'd experienced in relation to her father thus far had been – overcame her.

"C'mon, dude," she said between hiccups of laughter. "It's not that funny!"

Kristoff disagreed. "You didn't- didn't see your face!" he chuckled.

It took more genuine effort than she expected, but eventually Anna did get her giggles under control. They parted company, confident of their two-fold plan. First, they would try to help Kristoff "schmooze" his way into Elsa's heart at the party itself. Then, if that earned them no progress, she would go through with Plan B. Given that they both seemed to loathe it, Anna could only hope that Kristoff would be successful.

                                          ~ o ~

The day of the party, Elsa started passing out her future address to all of her friends and close acquaintances. Not that she knew that's what it was; only that it was an empty space in which to arrange a bash. She was able to talk Al into helping to get together some of the essentials, and he promised he'd grab some of his teammates for the task. Everything was shaping up great.

Meanwhile, Anna had wheedled a little more cash out of Doc for two more outfits: a party outfit, and a prom dress. The fuchsia mini skirt and fishnet leggings made her feel stupid, almost as much as the denim vest over the black long-sleeve button-up, but she knew everybody else would be wearing similar fashion disasters. She just had to grin and bear it.

"You excited?" she hissed to Elsa as they were getting ready to leave the school. She was a little sad; this would be her last 'school day' with her. Weird as everything had been, she would definitely miss seeing this part of her mother's life.

"I wanna hurl, dude," Elsa confessed with a shaky sigh. "This is the first real party I've ever kinda-sorta thrown myself. It has to be bad, or I'll be a bogus bimbo from now until graduation."

"Those are a lot of B-words." Suppressing the worry that this would cause a resurgence of the urges from the night before, Anna linked her arm with Elsa's as they headed to Ariel's shiny Nova. It wasn't a great car overall, but at least it was fairly new, and she had the use of it most days.

"Oh… hey," Elsa breathed, glancing down at their arms and then back up at Anna's face.

"We got this."

"We got what?" she asked. Anna could kick herself for lapsing with the lingo so often. "O-oh, you mean the party? Yeah, I'm sure it'll be tubular. Or… reasonably sure."

"It's gonna be amazing," Anna insisted. "Everybody's gonna have fun tonight. The key is to let them have their own fun – no micromanaging!"

Elsa merely nodded her head. Honestly, it wasn't something Anna was overly concerned about. There was gonna be some food and soda and apparently Elsa had some 'really neat tunes, totally not square'. She had no idea why her mother was so stressed.

"You're coming, right?"

Oh. That may be why she was worried. Keeping her frown to herself, Anna nodded. "Yeah! Gotta make sure no one messes up your little shindig."

"Shindig?" she snorted, eyes alight. "What is this, the 50s? Who even says that anymore?"

"I do!" Anna defended. Elsa shook her head, a smile still playing at her lips, but she said nothing more.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, each seemingly having no idea how to continue the conversation. It was only when they neared Elsa's friends that she spoke.

"Thank you, Tori," she said honestly. Sincerely. "For all you've done."

"Ahhh, it was nothing." Anna tried to play it cool, but obviously wasn't doing too well. Not when Elsa paused in her steps to face Anna fully. "Hey," she said softly. "What brought this on?"

Elsa shrugged and didn't say anything for a moment. "I just…" she began. "I just get the feeling you're going to be leaving soon, so..."

"What? Oh… well, yeah, probably am." How did she know she was leaving? Still, she had to do better. "Definitely am. Gotta head home, y'know?"

"Right! So I wanted to tell you in case I don't get the chance or- or in case something changes." Change? What could change? Anna's mouth was already open and primed to ask when Elsa interrupted. "So thank you, Victoria."

"Well… I'm… okay." She decided not to fight Elsa on that, since she really wasn't exactly sure what she would be fighting against. In truth, if they hadn't already technically crossed lines, hadn't masturbated next to each other, she probably would have leaned up to kiss her on the cheek – to reassure her. Instead, she merely squeezed her bicep. "You're welcome. But you honestly don't have to thank me; I just think you're a… rad chick and want to help you out."

"After what happened, I'm not sure I deserve that," she sighed as they got closer to the car.

"What do you mean?" But Elsa didn't answer. They were too close to Ariel now, which Anna understood… but she still had to wonder what Elsa had been going to say. Did she completely blame herself for their straying over the line and into the Danger Zone? That wasn't fair.

"Ready to crank this party to eleven?!" Ariel was asking them, blotting out the rest of Anna's inner musings. Along with her, Elsa and Jasmine immediately cried out in unison "IT GOES TO ELEVEN?!" and Anna could only shake her head and laugh, wondering where this wonderfully ridiculous version of her mother had gone.

                                          ~ o ~

A few hours later, they had the model home as tricked out as it could possibly be. Somewhere, they had dug up an actual deejay, and he brought a crate full of the best early-80s new wave and rock hits. Even a little disco, despite how most of them rolled their eyes to see the 'Saturday Night Fever' soundtrack amongst his selection.

They also grabbed a few folding chairs and added them to the plain, boring couch and armchair that had been in the living room. There was no TV – or rather, the one in there was just a cardboard display to give the impression of an actual TV – but they didn't really need one. They quickly set up a drink and snack station in the dining room, and put out bowls of chips and some dip on the coffee table so there would be more than one place to grab food.

"Looks good so far," Jazz was saying as she looked around at their work. "Wish we had more Pepsi Free, and more Coke Classic than New Coke…"

"Well the New Coke was on sale," Ariel said. "We're not exactly millionaires."

"Well, Al is bringing some supplies, too," Elsa reasoned, "So we're probably gonna be set no matter what." She was currently rearranging the table, making sure they had enough coolers full of ice – and enough room in them – for the various drinks. She was nervous and scared of failing, that much was obvious.

"So, who's coming?" Anna asked. Ariel and Jazz were, bless their souls, entirely unhelpful. Jazz could only name one person – "Al!" – and Ariel gave a shrug.

"Word probably passed around the school," Elsa said. "Have you never thrown a party before?" They all turned to Anna.

"Oh, heh, well, not exactly. Where I'm from parties tend to be a little… different." She'd been invited to them, of course. After the first one she'd never gone again. Parties were loud and obnoxious things. When someone inevitably brought out the alcohol, she added 'scary' to that list. Drunk people were scary. And most seemed not to realise what it did to them, what it turned them into – both in the short term, and in the long term.

Realising that she'd been staring at Elsa as those thoughts swirled in her head, Anna shook her head. "I guess I'm just not a huge party girl," she said.

At first, Elsa and her friends laughed a little. Then when she realised Anna wasn't joking, the blonde leaned in a little closer. "Wait… are you serious? But you're the coolest girl I know!"

"Maybe… sobriety is cooler?" When they only stared, she wilted and mumbled, "Yeah okay, didn't expect that one to work. But for real, I'm just not much of a drinker, sorry."

Of course, that would be the exact moment Al and his posse showed up with the keg and a couple bottles of harder liquor. Anna swallowed her disappointment and helped them set up, getting everything ready and appointing one of the jocks – some giant beefcake who called himself "Herc" – as the one to watch the table and make sure nobody drank themselves stupid. Not that she really trusted him to do that.

Around the time the first few guests began to show up, Elsa took Anna aside and whispered, "Why are you doing all this?"

"Huh?"

"This party. If you're not a partier, then why would you go to all this trouble to help set one up?"

Her thoughts went to Kristoff, who was probably trying to parallel park outside as they spoke. "Oh… just trying to be a good friend, I guess."

"Ah. Well, I want you to know I appreciate-" But that was as far as she got before she was being dragged away by Ariel to help greet and mingle. That was just as well, since it gave Anna an excuse to head for the refreshments and grab herself some caffeine.

She was also hoping to run across Kristoff. She'd told him to be early – "but not too early!" – but so far she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him. Twenty minutes later, by the time the party was getting into full swing, he still hadn't arrived.

A little irritated at his lack of punctuality, she made her way out the front of the house. There were kids strewn everywhere. It wasn't too bad yet – no one was truly drunk, which was nice. And down the street a little, still close enough to be visible in the light, was a familiar face.

"Kristoff!" Anna called, jogging towards him. He gave a start, and lifted a hand in a wave, but he didn't move forward to meet her. So that was the first thing she asked him about. "What the hell? Why aren't you in there yet?"

Looking away, he mumbled some pathetic excuse. Something about not being wanted at the party, an "I'm sure Elsa doesn't want me here." But this was the same old self-esteem issue, so Anna punched him in the shoulder. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make him flinch and look up.

"Dude," she said. "This isn't an invite-only gig. And trust me, you're just as welcome as anyone else." Before long, everyone would be too drunk to care whether a 'nerd' was there or not. Plus… they did say Anna was cool. She could invite whoever she wanted! "And besides, you're already here. May as well make the most of it."

She practically had to drag Kristoff towards the house even when she received a reluctant agreement from him. Anna refused to allow him to back out now, not with all the effort she had put into this.

"Just try and strike up a conversation with her," she encouraged him once they were inside. "She won't bite, you know that."

"Fine, fine! Wow, you're pushy!" But he didn't fight her on it, either; seemed to be how he handled most situations.

Back inside, she left Kristoff to approach Elsa and focused exclusively on pigging out on snacks. The potato chips seemed especially bland to her for some reason, and she couldn't decide if New Coke was an acceptable alternative to the stuff she was used to. Stubbornly, she refused to have a single sip of anything alcoholic; she told herself it was only because she needed to remain focused on getting her parents together. Which was mostly true.

After a good fifteen minutes, she floated back out to the living room to find them. However, neither Kristoff nor Elsa was there. Poking her head around the other rooms, she finally had to drift down the hallway to locate one of them.

Elsa was lying on one of the beds, staring up at the ceiling. Ironically enough, it was in the room that would later become Anna's. Even the awful grey feature wall was the same. When she heard Anna come in, she sat up on her elbows, then sighed. "Oh, it's you."

That didn't sound good. Gently closing the door behind her, Anna took a few steps into the room. "What's going on? What are you doing in here?"

Elsa shrugged. Sitting up fully, she curled her legs up under her chin. Anna took it as an invitation to sit near Elsa's feet. She smiled to herself – the Elsa of her time would have had kittens to see shoes on the bed.

"Just wanted to get away," she finally admitted.

"Not having fun?"

Closing her eyes, Elsa sighed as she turned her head in the direction of the door – it made her sway a little bit. "No, no, it's not that. I just… Kristoff asked me to the dance tomorrow."

"OH?!" Anna perked up at that. Perhaps it was lucky that Elsa wasn't looking at her, though, because immediately after, she deflated. If Kristoff had asked her, why was she hiding out here? She was almost too afraid to ask. Fortunately – or perhaps unfortunately – Elsa wasn't finished.

"He's a great guy, but I…" she trailed off. Sucking in a breath, she turned her gaze to Anna. Her hold on her knees tightened, and Anna couldn't tear her eyes from Elsa's. "I realised that I… really want to go with someone… someone else."

Oh. Fuck.

"Y-yeah?" Anna managed to sputter. She wanted to run, but she managed to force herself to stay still.

"Yeah. And… I think I made a mistake." Her head nodded toward a cup on the previously-empty bedside table. "I thought maybe it would make me feel less upset about the whole situation, but instead now I just want to cry."

This was a tough situation. One of her hands drifted over and patted Elsa's forearm; it was about as neutral a location as she could manage. "Sorry. I really thought you two… w-well, it doesn't matter right now." It did, of course, but she couldn't explain without risking a time paradox.

"Oh, I like him more than I expected. I almost said yes, but then I thought- I… Tori, I just want to go with you. Can't I pick you up in my car, a-and we'll go to the dance together? No grody stuff, I p-promise!"

"Elsa…" Whatever she was going to say died on her lips at the look in Elsa's eyes. Vulnerable, weak. She couldn't do that to her, couldn't destroy what little hope and faith Elsa had. Not right now. And they still had Plan B. "Okay. As long as you swear to me-"

"Pinky swear." Elsa actually did hold up her pinky, and Anna snickered as she took it. But her mother remained serious all the while. "I know… know th-that you were pretty wigged about that. Because we're friends, and you already have a… w-well, anyway. Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about." Then she pushed Elsa a little more firmly against the bed. "Now, just relax here for a little while. I'm gonna get you some food to help soak up the drink."

"Will that work?" she asked, vaguely watching – barely helping – Anna take off her shoes and setting them on the floor.

"I've had practice," Anna muttered under her breath. Cleaning up after her again.

But the bitterness Anna had come to associate with cleaning up her mother's messes didn't come. Looking back at the bed, at the girl sitting forlorn atop the covers, she knew why; this Elsa wasn't her mother. Not yet. This Elsa was just a teenage girl who'd done the same thing countless girls before, and countless after, would do: drink at a party.

Leaving Elsa momentarily, she went out into the wild to forage for some food. Despite the lack of flavor, most of the crisps had vanished. There was some dip and crackers left, but Anna wasn't sure that she could trust it. Eventually she found another, unopened container in one of the coolers. It was a little damp from the ice, but the creamy goodness inside was untouched.

While scrounging around for another packet of crackers, she spied Kristoff standing off to one corner. Sighing, she knew she'd have to talk to him before the dance. But that could wait.

Upon returning to the room, the first thing Anna noticed was that Elsa hadn't moved at all. "I brought dip," she said. "There weren't many chips left but this'll soak it all up a little better."

Glumly, Elsa nodded. Her lips pursed into a point. She looked miserable – and Anna had a feeling that it wasn't the depressing effects of the alcohol. "Why do you hate drinking so much?" she asked, probably more as a distraction than anything else. "I never met anyone who hasn't tried it."

Anna lifted her shoulders, resuming her seat next to Elsa and opening the dip. "I have tried it," she admitted, passing her the container and moving on to the crackers. "And I don't hate it, exactly. More like I hate what it does to people. And I don't just mean like… getting wasted and then having a hangover the next day. I mean the… when you drink… or when someone you love drinks… and they don't ever seem to stop. And they just aren't the person you know because they're always the drunk version, and they can get mean sometimes."

Putting the dip on the bedside table, Elsa picked up a cracker and loaded it with a gratuitous amount of dip. "C'mon, I'd never be wack like that, though. It's just a drink here or there."

This time, Anna couldn't look at her, blinking rapidly. The words were out before she could stop them: "You can't promise that."

She was a little surprised to find a hand on her cheek, forcing her to look up. The cracker had been abandoned in the dip, and Elsa was looking at her with the fiercest eyes she'd ever seen.

"Then I pinky promise," she said. If Anna had been teary before, it was nothing compared to the effect that simple sentence had on her.

"Alright, alright. I believe you," she breathed, but more because she wasn't sure how else to handle this situation anymore. Elsa was looking at her with more love in her eyes than she ever remembered seeing from them in the future. Not that she never loved her; she knew her mother did, in ways that she could manage despite her depression and general dissatisfaction with her life.

But that future Elsa would never have leaned in to take her mouth gently the way this one was.

'Not again!' Anna thought furiously. But again, she had as much difficulty fighting off the advances of her amorous friend-who-would-eventually-birth-her as before. She did back up, but Elsa simply followed. Within moments, Anna found herself on her back, Elsa lying atop her.

She needed to stop, but the longer it went on, the more she found she didn't want to fight Elsa off. Some part of her understood that she needed to, that it was important, and that she knew nothing good could come of this if she let it continue. Furthermore, with or without their chromosomal connection, there was no way she could stay with Elsa knowing how she would turn out. That woman from the future was most definitely not her type.

But this one was. This Elsa was everything she went for in a woman; sensitive, thoughtful, sweet, and kind. Just impulsive enough to know how to have fun, but not some kind of reckless wild child who would hurt her, or get her hurt. And a knockout besides.

"I know," Elsa finally breathed when she broke the kiss, gazing down at Anna's stricken face. "I know what I said… a-and I won't. But… I can't lie to you, Tori. I can't lie to myself."

Anna wasn't thinking. Couldn't think, not when her mind was full of nothing but the kiss they had just shared. She knew her mistake when she leaned up, none-too-gently, to press their lips together again. Her hands came to wrap around Elsa's head, fisting in her hair and holding her close.

Okay, so perhaps this wasn't the sort of relationship she'd ever wanted with her mother, but… there was love. Real love. Anna didn't know how deep it ran through Elsa, but it was there for her. Elsa's lips were soft, and this time, she could appreciate how they felt, kneading into hers. The fact that her hands hadn't moved at all since the beginning, still resting on Anna's cheeks…

Punz wasn't nearly this tactile. Elsa made her feel so wanted. So needed.

But she didn't completely lose herself in the kiss, in the feeling of Elsa atop her, moving gently against her. There was a tiny voice at the back of her head that was asking one little question that she couldn't ignore much longer: What happens now?

"Tori," Elsa breathed briefly when their lips parted, before they moved to Anna's neck, nibbling gently at her skin. She was unpractised in many facets of relationships, but here she excelled. Anna had to close her eyes and suck in a breath, just to keep some of her wits about her.

"Elsa, I… I d-don't know…" What didn't she know? "I don't know if… if I can… do much more than… than this…" That was a much more moderate reaction compared to what she meant to say, but at least it was a toehold.

"We both feel it," she insisted, ghosting her lips over Anna's again. Her eyes were bright, and Anna couldn't maintain contact. "Don't we? And… I'm sorry about that girl, back in wherever, but… can you honestly tell me it's this good with her? This bodacious?"

"I haven't had the chance to f-find out," she replied with a shaky sigh. Maybe she could distract Elsa. "I, um… we were supposed to have our big night, but I ended up coming here instead. It… I was really looking forward to it, we've been kind of awkward potatoes until now."

"Potatoes?" she snickered, reaching up to brush Anna's hair from her forehead. It seemed she had backed off from kissing her again – for the time being, at least. "That way with words you have is pretty weird. But I dig it."

They just looked at each other for a moment. Both were trying to catch their breath; it wasn't the activities, nor any kind of exertion that caused it. When Anna could finally speak, it was to as a question. "Did you… mean it?" Her voice was soft. "What you said earlier?"

Elsa's head tilted, just a little. "What did I say earlier?"

"You-" Anna had to stop to swallow. This shouldn't have been this difficult! She'd already snogged her, and they had come pretty close to doing way more than that once before; asking a question, in comparison, should be a cakewalk! The problem was, she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. Wasn't sure if she could handle such raw truths from Elsa.

No. She had to know.

"When you… you said you wanted to go w-with… me. To the dance," she added, unnecessarily. Elsa's head jerked back a little, eyes widening a fraction.

"Of course!" she cried out, obviously not having the same issues as Anna. "I mean, what kind of a skank do you think I am? I don't kiss random people for no good reason, Tori. I, um… I kinda have to like them first, and… you're the first person I've liked this much. Don't you see that?"

Then she did it again, almost as if to prove it to both of them. Anna tried to summon up some of the disgust she knew she should be feeling, but it didn't seem to be in proper working order at that moment. Even trying to think about having come out of Elsa's vagina, something she thought for sure would kill the mood for her, just seemed to make her think about that part of her future mother's body in general… which she decided was only making things worse, so she gave up.

At least, she tried to give up. Elsa wasn't making it easy, what with the kissing and moaning and- was she grinding? Anna's hands left Elsa's hair, sliding down her sides to rest at her hips. It only encouraged more movement. The fervour with which Elsa claimed her mouth only seemed to grow, and Anna could only partially blame the alcohol.

Only partially, because here she was responding to that advance without having touched a drop.

"Have I told you," Elsa panted, breaking away for a moment to look Anna in the eyes, "just how hot you look in fishnets?"

"Huh? Really?!" Her mind blanked. Elsa was still staring at her, hair framing her face as she panted. It was blatantly obvious that she was as affected by their actions as Anna felt. Fingertips slid through her bangs, combing them gently. "Wait, whoa, be careful… this is getting close to… to a repeat of…"

"I'm just being honest." Elsa shrugged, though there was a dangerous glint in her dark eyes. "I'm jealous; on me, I'd just look like a cheap hooker. But you pull it off. 'Red hot' instead of 'red light'."

Elsa was moving closer again. The temporary distraction had seemingly worn off, and now she was gunning for the girl she had no idea was related to her. "Red light?"

"You know… like in 'Roxanne'."

"Oh- yeah. Community. Alternate timelines and shit."

"Uhhh, sure, whatever that means." Once again Elsa pulled that odd little expression – the one of amused confusion. And then it had vanished because she leaned down once more to fuse their lips together. She broke away for a second to murmur, "Definitely red hot," before returning.

Anna didn't have the will to stop her. It was becoming all to easy to forget that this was her future mother, lying atop her – grinding into her. It was too easy to forget, to pretend that she was just another girl who was sweet and warm and wanted her.

It was an odd feeling, this one of desire and need, that Anna didn't know how to deal with. So she didn't; she just kissed Elsa back with equal passion, needy hips rolling against hers. Putting the worries out of her mind for a moment. She was grateful for her denim jacket and skirt, because they hid the worst of her arousal; protected her from it.

Elsa let out a moan, right into Anna's mouth that sent sparks shooting through her. She didn't know if she was happy or not when Elsa's mouth moved, sliding down her throat. Her hips never stopped moving; in fact, they seemed to speed up.

"Elsa…?"

"Nng… Tori…"

It was blatantly obvious what has happening. Anna had heard that same noise only the night prior, though then they'd had some distance to distract them. Some mild formality of teacher-and-student that didn't exist here. Some part of Anna wanted to draw it out, but it was quickly snuffed out by her more logical side. She shouldn't want to draw it out – she should be able to stop it completely! But it was becoming more and more difficult to remind herself of who this Elsa would become, and rather just think of who she still was.

And at the moment, that was a horny teenager riding her to oblivion in the spare room of a house party. She could sense when Elsa was getting close; it was in the way she panted against Anna's neck, hands scrambling for purchase before their lips realigned. Elsa moaned as their tongues slid together, hands gripping so tight she could almost make Anna bleed.

And then her mother came, tipping over the edge of rationality and into her mind-numbing finish.

Her body shuddered for a long while afterward as they lay there. It was Elsa who had broken the kiss moments afterward, pressing her head into Anna's shoulder for some kind of stability, some kind of support. Her breath was hot and damp in the small space, and Anna could feel her eyelids fluttering, gently scratching at her skin.

Poor Anna could only lie there beneath Elsa, staring up at the ceiling. There was only one thought going through her head: this should not have happened. But then, that same thought had been spiralling since the beginning of the week. Since she'd stupidly interfered with her parents' first meeting.

This really was some fucked up karma.

Elsa squirmed atop her, shifting her body so she was no longer lying completely over Anna; instead, she sat up. Anna could still do little but look at her, eyes wide. Elsa was so beautifully trashed, hair frazzled, complexion a dappled red. Now, her eyes weren't nearly so dark as they stared down at Anna.

Already, the guilt was setting in. Elsa looked like she wanted to run, but was too afraid to move. The space between them was a rubber band, stretched and ready to snap. There was no heat left; only blinding shame.

Space. She needed space, now.

Sitting up, she couldn't voice the gratefulness she felt when Elsa slid back, off her and onto the bed. Anna felt like she had to say something, but wasn't sure what she could say. She couldn't even determine what Elsa was thinking; there was nothing but stony silence and averted gazes. When they did speak, it was Elsa who gave the first choking cough..

"I'm… I'm s-sorry," she said, voice low. "Wasn't… wasn't thinking."

Anna doubted that. She most certainly was thinking – just not from her head. "It's okay," she said. It sounded hollow, even to her own ears. "You're pretty wasted. I know… look, I really don't hold it against you, I… I couldn't. It's okay. But maybe we should, um, should go and rejoin the party. Everyone's probably wondering where the host is."

Elsa seemed unsure, but she also seemed to realise that distance was something Anna needed. So, climbing from the bed, she nodded. "Yeah… probably."

Though Anna wanted to apologise, what could she say? She really didn't think this was a smart plan. And she wanted to kiss Elsa again just to show her that everything was fine, and that she didn't hate her, or think she was a bad person for being a little buzzed and letting her emotions run away with her. Maybe that was a bad idea, but she had to do something.

"I'm really looking forward to the dance, though," she wound up whispering as she stood next to her. They were about even in height now that Elsa was shoeless. "And… I won't pretend I could ever forget this moment. Just so you know."

Of course, she mostly meant it was traumatising and she'd spend years in therapy to figure out how she could ever have let this get so far. But luckily, Elsa took her words at face value. Her smile was soft, and she leaned forward to give Anna a little peck on her cheek.

"Me, too. It's gonna be rad to the max."

As they left, Anna added, "And you keep saying I look hot, but you look even better; that minidress is killer."

"Killer?" Elsa mused with a little chuckle, barely glancing down at her purple outfit. The one that showed evidence of arousal standing at firm attention on her breasts – though thank heavens, it showed nothing else. This time, Anna couldn't help staring for a half-second before she tore her eyes away. "Hmm… I like the sound of that. It's 'killer'." Then she reached down to take up Anna's hand. "Ready when you are."

Anna was more than ready. But as they exited the room and made the way down the hallway, she wondered whether Elsa really was prepared. The closer they got to the living areas, the more tense she seemed to be. She walked slower than usual, and her hand tightened around Anna's.

The moment they moved into the light, Elsa dropped it. She covered the movement quite well, heading towards where Ariel was standing. The redhead was watching Jazz and Al hit it off, and Elsa made a show of gushing about it as soon as she arrived. Anna had been expecting it, and while she knew it shouldn't, it still hurt a little; the fact that Elsa didn't feel comfortable enough to keep holding her hand. But that was how it had to be – for both their sakes.

Shaking away the lingering disappointment, she glanced around. Kristoff was standing where he had been the first time she had come out of the room. He looked like he was still holding the same cup, and if Anna had to guess, he probably had the same drink. She sighed to herself before making her way over to him.

"Hey, man," she said. "What's up?"

He didn't say anything for a moment. The first indication he gave that he was going to speak was simply a nod in Elsa's direction.

"So… I guess the rumours are true?"

Anna froze. Her heart stuttered along for a moment before it too seemed to still in her chest. "Wh-hah, what do you mean?"

He looked away, then pointed to the corner of his lip. A quick look at Elsa confirmed Anna's fear: she was wearing lipstick. A light red shade that was obvious even through the dimmed lights of the house.

A light red shade that was, obviously, evident on Anna's own face. And probably not just her lips, either…

She rubbed at her neck, and the spot Elsa had pressed her face into and kissed within an inch of its life. She had to be careful. The panic rising in her, threatening to send her running for the bathroom, would only get Kristoff to abandon all efforts to get Elsa to date him. There had to be something she could say that would undo the damage done by something as innocuous as beauty products.

"Y-yeah," she laughed. It sounded forced, but at least she got her throat to cooperate. "Apparently, she was a little tipsy, and VERY friendly. But um, I don't think the rumours are something you should worry about."

His nod didn't seem to convey that he agreed with her. "Mmm. I mean, maybe not, but she was definitely a lot closer to you than I've ever seen her with any of the guys at school. But I mean… I am a little surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Anna." His cheeks pinkened a little. "If I wasn't so wrapped up with her, I'd think you had a crush on me."

"WHAT?!" That came out a lot harsher than she meant, so she cleared her throat. "I mean, um… how did you get there from… from anywhere?!"

"Spending all this time trying to help me? Cleaning up my act, trying to make me a winner instead of a wimp? It's like… you really care about me. I've never felt that from any girl before. Elsa, a little, but that's it."

This was too far. Anna needed a breather, and she needed it right away. "As a friend," she managed to tell him firmly as she backed away toward the kitchen, and the door that would lead to the garage. "Just a friend! Okay? But y-yeah, I'm in your corner, compadre."

Only once she was away from the party did she hear how stupid that sounded. Compadre? More like just 'padre'. Somehow, she had managed to walk into 1985 and charm not one, but both of her parents into thinking she was their ideal mate. At least with Kristoff it seemed to be purely because Elsa was unavailable and no other woman caught his eye; at least his future wife remained his first choice…

But what about Elsa? Her needs were much stronger, focused on her future daughter and no one else. Flattered and strangely intrigued as Anna was by the prospect, she had to refocus on the task at hand: getting them to hook up so she could safely return to her own time period and take twelve showers.

                                           To Be Continued…

[alexander-----hamilton-blog]

  Years—2008

—-////

                                 When the sun found the moon,

She was drinking tea in a garden

under the green umbrella trees

In the middle of summer

When the moon found the sun,

he looked like he was barely hanging on,

but her eyes saved his life

In the middle of summer

May 7, 2008

      I quickly threw on a grey jumper, some black jeans, and a pair of grey vans before entering the bathroom to do my hair. Emma apparently had her clothing planned out already since she was dressed and ready to go (she made a reference earlier on today that I didn’t get). “Y/N! Hurry up, we’re gonna be late!”

      Moments later, I crawled out of the bathroom, fixing stray hairs that were caused by my loose hair. The girl before me groaned. “Finally, you took fucking forever.”

      “Oh, shut up and let’s go.” I snapped, snatching the keys from the couch and heading towards the door. “You’re lucky I’m even coming to this concert.”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

      After and hour and a half of Emma practically yelling out the lyrics to a shit ton of Panic! songs, we arrived at the place where the band was supposed to perform. I’m not sure exactly where we are since Emma was driving, but it looks like we’re pretty far from Wesleyan yet close to my barrio, Washington Heights.

      We exited the car, stretching our limbs from the semi-long car ride. The brunette handed me my ticket and a pass-looking thing that had the words ‘BACKSTAGE PASS’ written boldly on it. I raised my eyebrow at Emma. “So you’re expecting me to not only sit around and wait in my seat while you watch the concert, but you also want me to meet the damn band? Emma, do you realize how much I’ve already done for you?”

      “Yes, I do, which is why a month away from my whining will really help you.” She smiled sweetly at me, completely unfazed my reaction to her handing me the backstage pass.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

      The lights in the venue (Emma told me we’re in the Roseland Ballroom) dimmed, the sound of the beginning of a song ringing through my ears. The crowd immediately began to cheer and woo and whatnot, Emma joining them quickly. In less that three seconds, a man with dark brown hair appeared, his chocolate brown eyes fixed on the audience as a grin adorned his plump lips. Not bad looking, but still not my type—especially since he’s part of a band that’s definitely not something I’d listen to.

      “Oh, how it’s been so long, we’re so sorry we’ve been gone,” The brown haired man sang. In all honesty, he doesn’t sound that bad. “We were busy writing songs for you. Oh, how it’s been so long, we’re so sorry we’ve been gone, we were busy writing songs for…….”

      I turned to see Emma, who was mouthing the lyrics to the song. Or maybe she was yelling them, I can’t tell due to all the noise. “You don’t have to worry ‘cause we’re still the same band. You don’t have to worry- You don’t have to worry- You don’t- You don’t have to worry- You don’t have to worry- You don’t- Oh, how it’s been so long, we’re so sorry we’ve been gone, we were busy writing songs for you.”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

      At this point, I was sweating from all of the dancing that was going on around me. Contrary to the rest of the audience, I’ve been merely nodding my head to some of the beats before resuming my brooding. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that it wasn’t my idea to be here.

      Emma glanced at me for the first time tonight, frowning at my disinterest in her favorite band. “C'mon Y/N! Live a little!”

      I was about to answer when the next song began to play, a squeal instantly leaving my best friend’s mouth.

      The lead singer ran his fingers through his sweaty hair, a smirk dragging itself across his face. “Is it still me that makes you sweat? Am I who you think about in bed? When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you’re sliding off your dress.” I instantly looked up from my folded hands, my eyes wider than the moon they were talking about a few songs back. The singer’s eyes darted across the crowd, his pupils eventually landing on me—I saw them enlarge by the slightest bit. “I think of what you did, and how I hope to God he was worth it. When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch his skin. I’ve got more wit, a better kiss, hotter touch, a better fuck than any boy you’ll ever meet. Sweetie, you have me.”

      I flinched slightly at his dirty use of profanity and the way he seemed to sneak glances at me every time he said something vulgar and sexual, which was most of the song.

      A few more second passed, the first verse nearing its end. “Let’s get these teen hearts beating faster, faster! So testosterone boys and harlequin girls, will you dance to this beat and hold a lover close? So testosterone boys and harlequin girls, will you dance to this beat and hold a lover close?” The singer edged closer to my side of the stage. “So I guess we’re back to us, oh cameraman, swing the focus! In case I lost my train of thought, where was it where we last left off? Let’s pick up, pick up.”

      The few seconds that came and passed felt like eternity with the man’s dark eyes burning holes into my skin when he looked at me. Luckily, the song seemed to be nearing its end, for the singer slowly got quieter. “Let’s get these teen hearts beating faster, faster. Let’s get these teen hearts beating faster.”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

      Once the concert ended, Emma practically dragged me towards the closest security guard, eagerly showing him our backstage passes. The guard stepped away from the door that led backstage, leaving Emma no time to waste for her to run inside and take me with her.

      The halls were quite empty, apart from the fact that crew members were rushing to clean up the stage and place all of the instruments back into their correct locations. A nice-looking lady approached us, tilting her head at us. “Do you two have backstage passes?” We nodded our heads, raising the pass around our necks. “Follow me.” The lady led us further down the hall and towards an area filled with rooms. She motioned for us to stay where we were while she knocked on first door to the left. A few words between her and the person on the other side were exchanged before she turned to smile at us. “They’ll be out in a moment.”

      Emma nervously clutched my wrist, her delicate fingers shaking against my smooth skin. She looked at me. “What do you think they’re like? Are they nice? Are they rude? Are they amazing? What do they think they’re like?”

      “I think we’re pretty nice.” Answered a voice from behind the brunette I’ve learned to tolerate. A surprised squeak left her lips as she slowly turned around to face the drummer, the bass guitar player, and the lead-guitar player.

      My friend’s eyes began to swell as tears formed in them. “Oh my God, are you real?”

      The drummer chuckled. “I-I think so.”

      “Are you sure you think you’re real? You don’t sound very convinced.” The three band members smiled at each other before stepping towards Emma, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. I couldn’t help but notice that the lead singer wasn’t there.

      I meekly stood behind the four people, glancing at the floor from time to time whilst shuffling my shoes in an awkward manner. Don’t get me wrong, I like that Emma is enjoying herself and all that shit, but it feels weird that she’s doing all the interacting and I’m just stringing along. To think, I could be watching the Order of the Phoenix instead of this.

      After the longest two minutes of my life, my best friend and the band seemed to finally acknowledge my existence, Emma widening her eyes at the fact that I’ve been here all this time. “Holy shit! Y/N! I’m so sorry, I was caught up in the moment an-”

      “Yo, Em, it’s fine.” I waved off her apology. “There’s no need, I understand.”

      The brunette let out a relieved sigh. “Well, um, Y/N, these are the members of Panic! At The Disco!” She exclaimed, her legs bending slightly to show her excitement. “That right there-” She pointed towards the guy in a hoodie “-Is Brent Wilson. He-” Her finger motioned towards a man with a slight beard “-Is Spencer Smith and that one right there-” The man in a (very nice, I must say) scarf waved at me “-Is Ryan Ross. “Emma stepped towards me and hooked her left arm in my right. "This is my best friend, Y/N L/N.”

      Spencer, Ryan, and Brent (I hope I got their names right) gave me a unified 'Hello’, my habit to show manners acting up when I returned the gesture. Ryan motioned for us to follow him. “Brendon is waiting in the bus, he said he had to do something, so he couldn’t come to pick you guys up, but we’re here.”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

In the middle of summer

All was golden in the sky,

all was golden when the day met the night

Summer

All was golden in the sky,

all was golden when the day met the night

Summer, summer, summer, summer

All was golden when the day met the night

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

      The three band members led us towards a large bus, seemingly no one inside, but then again, they said the singer was in here. Ryan knocked on the door a couple times, a man with dark brown hair opening it. He smiled widely at me and Emma, his face scrunched up in what I assume is joy. They let us walk inside.

       Emma, of course, introduced me to (who I now know is) Brendon Urie: the lead singer of the band. My best friend enjoyed herself while talking to the band—well, at least most of the band. Brendon was definitely not paying attention to Emma. In fact, he kept looking at me with innocent doe eyes, without the dark, lusty tinge that I saw in them earlier. Another thing I’ve acknowledged is that he’s wearing a jacket and flip-flops in the beginning of May, which makes me skeptical, but I’ll let it slide.

      Brendon didn’t say anything; only stared at me with a starstruck expression. Either he’s currently in the deepest thought or I’m actually that fucking unattractive.

      Ryan noticed Brendon’s blank stare and managed to snap him out of it by nudging his ribs. A light tinge of rose dusted over his pale cheeks.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

      I actually expected us to leave soon, but apparently the reason Emma’s broke-ass could afford backstage passes was because she has a friend that works as a crew member for these people, meaning—due to her 'charm'—I get another two hours away from home. Yay.

      The guys were nice enough to stick around and hang with us, letting us stay in the bus and just being, well, welcoming people. They aren’t half as bad as I thought, so this night doesn’t necessarily have to suck.

      I stuck my hands in the pockets of my jeans and paced around while Emma talked to the band. They seem to be deep into their conversation, and being the kind person I am, I won’t interrupt them.

      “Hey.” My eyes darted from counting specks of trash on the floor to being lured into the most gorgeous coffee brown eyes I’ve ever seen.

      I raised my eyebrows at Brendon, wondering why he’s talking to someone uninterested instead of someone actually interested (Emma). Even though I’m clearly not going to pay attention to what he’s gonna say, my voice still got clogged in my throat when I tried to answer him, cheeks becoming red and flustered. “H-Hi.”

      Brendon chuckled at my crimson face and folded his arms. “So, uh, what brings you here?”

      “You want all honesty?” He shrugged in response, signaling to me that he wants to know. “Emma dragged me into this—I don’t even listen to your music.”

      The brown-haired man gave me a sincere smile, biting his pink lips before moving over to fidget with his fingers. “That’s alright, everyone’s entitled to their own opinion, and you are no exception.”

      I nodded at Brendon, silently thanking him for understanding. I half-expected him to get all offended and kick me and Emma out, causing her to hate me for two days or so, but he didn’t. He was a complete gentleman about it and didn’t make a big deal.

      A few silent minutes passed, Emma and the other three members chatting until our time ran out. Meanwhile, Brendon messed around with his long hair, glancing in my direction for a two seconds before entertaining himself by picking at the skin on his thumb.

      The silence between us kills me, any word exchanged could mean the world to me right now, I’m not fucking joking. I thought he’d be as talkative to me as he is to Emma, but no. Apparently, I don’t dese-

      “Do you wanna go get drinks?” Brendon questioned me, trapping me in his enchanting eyes once more. While he hypnotized me and led me outside and towards the closest bar, I forgot one very important factor about all of this.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

      Brendon waited for me to sit at the bar stool before grinning at me. “Do you want me to order you anything?”

      My instinct was to answer him, yet something kept me back from doing so. The gears in my brain clicked in there, supplying me wth the answer I need. “Well, shit.”

      “What?”

      I chuckled dryly at Brendon, my eyes practically yelling 'I’m sorry’ at him. He furrowed his eyebrows at me and frowned, the expression going away when I sighed. “I forgot I’m not legally allowed to drink yet.”

      His mouth made an 'O’ shape when I smiled sarcastically at him, lips pursing as he went into a deep thought. “Yeah, I see how that’s gonna be a problem. How old are you again?”

      “19.”

      Brendon hummed, stopping the soothing sound to whistle at the bartender to catch his attention. The bartender walked towards us, resting his forearms on the counter. “What would you like, sir?”

      “Bourbon. Neat.”

      “And for the lady?”

      I looked towards Brendon for assistance, not knowing whether or not to tell the bartender that I’m underage and not allowed to consume alcohol. “Uh, I’m no-”

      Brendon raised his hand to stop me. “Mimosa, no champagne.”

      The bartender chuckled. “So, an orange juice?” The singer gave the bartender an 'I guess’ and let him go, looking at me to hopefully start up a conversation.

      He smiled at me. “Y/N, correct?” I nodded at him, although, I have a feeling he already knew that he was right. “Great, um, I want to get to know you, if that’s ok. Is it ok?” I shrugged. “Cool. So, I’m gonna ask you a couple questions. You don’t have to answer them, but it’d be amazing if you did. Ok? Ok.” Brendon smirked at me. “What’s your favorite color?”

      I snorted, my shoulders shaking in a joyful manner. “Out of all the questions you could’ve chosen, and you choose the most cliché one?” I saw his 'serious’ look break into one that mimics mine. “But if you really want to know, it’s f/c.”

      Brendon sent a kind grin my way, taking a sip of the drink I didn’t noticed had been brought. He continued to ask me question: 'dreams and aspirations?’, 'favorite food?’, and 'best movie ever?’.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

      After paying for our drinks (Brendon insisted on paying for both), we headed back towards the bus, looking inside to see that no one was there. That didn’t alarm us for some reason, for we proceeded to head to the bus. Brendon took out a key from his pocket and stuck it in the keyhole, opening the door and letting me inside first.

      He motioned for me to sit down anywhere I’d like before sitting down next to me. The getting-to-know-each-other continued. The questions slowly became a bit more personal, asking stuff like education, family, etc.

      “How many siblings?”

      “One, an older brother called Aleksander. You?”

      Brendon giggled, leaning back into the couch. “I’m the fifth and youngest child.” I let out a small 'yikes’ before joining him in resting our heads on the couch. “Alright, are you single?”

      I stayed silent, my body still as stone, but mind running faster than a leopard. What do I say? He’s shown a visible interest in me, and I’m frankly enjoying his company and all, but I know that he’s gonna ask if we can see each other again, and with my education and him being a celebrity with girls in line to even be in the same room as him, I don’t believe we would ever be able to go any further than just being acquaintances. Plus, I’m probably never going to see him again, so what’s the point?

      My thumbs rubbed against each other as I opened my mouth. “Actually, I am taken.” I lied, falsity running straight through my teeth and spilling.

      Brendon shot his eyes towards mine, an obvious amount of…….something attempting to hide in those brown hues. “Oh.” I could hear his voice quiver in realization and downright disappointment. He seemed very frustrated with himself, his fingers clenching the pillow next to him as he kept a long silence between the two of us.

      An eternity passed before Brendon sighed, gulping audibly. “Look, I really enjoy your company and all, and I don’t want to make you feel unwelcome, but I think it’s best if you and Emma leave.”

      I nodded, standing from the couch and sniffing. Seasonal allergies, not anything else. “M-May I ask why?”

      “Because, Y/N” He explained, running a hand through his chocolate locks as he stepped closer to me. “If you stay here any longer I’m gonna try to kiss you, and I’m not that kind of guy—I’m not about that life. So I think you should leave before I do kiss you.”

                                  August 28, 2008

      Since the concert (and the unfortunate series of events), Emma has been bugging me about going to different shows, tours; you get the goddamn idea. Anywho, I’m currently getting ready because my best friend said she had a surprise for me, which I reckon will have something to do with a band or going to yet another concert. Either that or she has something legitimately planned.

      I slowly traced the line under my eye with black eyeliner and darkening my eyelashes with mascara. The Chapstick on my lips covered them whilst a light blush was applied to my cheeks. And just like that, I’m done with my makeup. Unlike Emma, who spends an hour merely looking for the 'perfect’ shades and colors of makeup. (“Well, of I’m wearing a pastel blue dress, I might as well wear pastel blue eyeshadow. But I don’t want to overdo it, so I’ll mix it in with a bit of white on the inner corners"—"You stress me out, Emma"—"I know”)

      “Y/N!” Called my friend from outside the bathroom. “Hurry up! We’re gonna be late! Again!” Hmm, where have I heard that before?

      I quickly placed everything back into my small bag and opened the door, rushing towards the living room to see that Emma was already in the car. Groaning at my realization, I sped towards the vehicle and shut the front door of our apartment, locking it in the process.

      The car seat let out a tiny puff when I jumped onto it, slamming the car door shut while I put the seatbelt on. “How did you get out of the apartment before I did? You can’t even find a proper outfit in the time I get dressed and do my hair!”

      “I told you,” She reminded, “This is a very important day.”

      My eyes rolled at her lies, a sarcastic chuckle leaving my mouth. “You never fucking said that.”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

      The Rumsey Playfield (I knew this was gonna be a concert) gave me a welcoming look as we parked near the entrance (if it’s open gate is considered one). Emma gave me my ticket and let me show it to the man, who let us in.

      I remember seeing that there was gonna be a concert here, but I forgot for which band/artist. Before I could check my ticket for any type of name, Emma snatched it away from me and stuffed it in her bag. “It’s a surprise, Y/N.” She scolded.

      I, once again, rolled my eyes at her, letting her lead me towards the stage. After about thirty minutes of waiting—the opening band already played—the main band got ready to perform. The light flashed brightly against my retinas, blinding me for a moment or two before I heard that voice.

      “Oh no, I just keep on falling. And where’s hope, when misery comes crawling? With your fate, you’ll trigger a landslide and kill off this common sense of mine.”

      We’re at a Paramore concert.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

      Emma grabbed my hand and dragged me closer to the stage just when Hayley was about to walk away. My best friend squeezed my wrist as she hollered 'Hayley’ and bit her lip, waiting for a response from the singer. I instantly have Emma a look that said 'are you insane?!’, but she didn’t turn to see me. She was too busy staring at Hayley, who seemed to have turned around to walk towards us.

      The brunette roommate squealed when Hayley crouched down to see us. “Good to see you again, Emma.”

      What the fuck?

      Emma simply nodded and proceeded to dig her nails into my flesh, her other hand tapping anxiously on the floor of the stage. “Hey! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? The last time I saw you was on the third time I came to a Paramore concert in 2004,” My friend turned to look at me. “Which was long before I met you, Y/N.”

      “Yeah, I figured.”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

      Hayley, Emma, and I spent about an hour and a half talking—catching up, getting to know each other, the like. We had gotten to the point where we acted like long-lost friends, reuniting after years of being apart. Which, I’m definitely not complaining about.

      “Well,” started Emma, “It was amazing to see you again, Hayley, but it think it’s time for me and Y/N to get going.”

      Hayley sighed in response and gave us a kind smile. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to keel you schoolgirls out for too long. Anywho, I wanted to ask if it was alright if I took you two to Florida next year. There’s gonna be a show with a couple bands, including mine and my boyfriend’s, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with? It’ll land on a Saturday, so you won’t have to worry about missing a day of school. What do you say?”

      While I hastily nodded, Emma clutched onto my wrist and practically yelled, “Yes!”

      Hayley grinned. “Ok then, I’ll pay you two a visit at Wesleyan next year in January so we can start making plans! It was great seeing you guys!” She reached over to pull us into individual hugs. “Bye!”

      Emma and I said our 'goodbyes’ and exited the playfield, walking towards our car. I sat in the passenger’s seat and waited for Emma to sit in the driver’s seat before interrogating her. “How many fucking celebrities do you know?”

So he said, "Would it be all right

if we just sat and talked for a little while,

if in exchange for your time

I give you this smile?"

So she said, "That's ok,

as long as you can make a promise

not to break my little heart

or leave me all alone in the summer."

"When the Day Met the Night" by Panic! At The Disco