#everybody bow down to nicola

[polinsated]

#thank you nicola

[seasonal-shifts-au-fanartfunart]

Father Christmas-Father Winter

We interrupt our regularly scheduled asks for a Christmas fic because A) inspiration from one of @marvelfangeek09‘s comments: #also i know youre joking but i have NO DOUBT that patton dressed up as santa and magicked a bunch of presents into peoples houses  and B) I literally got kinda excited about the Tiniest little inch of snow on the ground this morning.  and I’m gonna call this my summery.

Words: 1590~

Warnings: Look. Everything Winter!Patton related tends to get a bit melancholy at the end, I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I promise, this was supposed to just be cute and fluffy. Tell me if there’s anything I need to note.

-

Patton knew Good ‘Ol Saint Nick. He even still had the little cloak the man had given him. It was obviously too small for him to wear now, but, he still kept it in his room. (He knew exactly where it was too, it was folded neatly in a keepsake chest that he’d decorated to mimic a wrapped present with a little bow). Either way- Patton knew Saint Nicolas, so he didn’t mind that the little presents got attributed to him now. Besides, if he let everybody know it was him, the whole thing wouldn’t be half as rewarding or fun.

He did, however, miss when kids asked for things he could like... actually make.

“What even IS that,” He whispered, staring at the letter. “Ok, ok- um, maybe she’ll like... maybe a rocking horse? ah- no that’d be too big, I don’t think the parents would forget that- A doll is always a safe bet-”

“Santa?”

Patton stiffened. This is what he gets for talking to himself. Patton turned, smiling at the little girl as he leaned down to her level. “Hello little miss- uh-” he spared a glance to the letter, “Miss Jemima, is it? Whatever are you doing up?”

She tilted her head, “You’re younger than I thought.”

Patton smiled, nose crinkling as he restrained a laugh, “No kiddo, I’m just older than I look. I’m a good several thousand years old you know.”

The girl grasped his cheeks and pushed his cheeks up so it made crinkles around his eyes. She nodded decisively, “Ok.”

Patton laughed and pulled his face out of the child’s hands, “It’s very late, Miss Jemima, I’d think you’d be asleep.”

“The bells woke me up.” Jemima said, eyes fixed on the small set of bells that adorned the red outfit Patton wore (despite the fact that red was more Roman’s color than his).

She gasped, “Where’s the reindeer?”

Patton’s eyes widened. As much as he liked to indulge the imaginations of the world, he was not about to use all his energy to take flying reindeer of all things around a global trip. He just blipped across the world like he did normally. But- He pointed to the roof, and ever so slightly dropped the intimidate temperature so the wood in the roof of the house creaked. Close enough to the sound of the shuffle of hooves above them.

The look of wonder in the child’s eyes was worth it. She hopped, exclaiming ‘oh!’ a few times, and raced into another room before running back in with a couple of carrots and a few cookies. “For the reindeer! And for you!”

Patton shook his head, “Oh, oh, I don’t- I don’t need anything, kiddo, I’ve got all I need-”

Jemima frowned, “But-” She raised her collection towards him, practically pouting.

Patton sighed, shoulders falling, “Ok, ok. Just one cookie though, ok?”

“Are you suuure?”

Patton bobbed a little before shaking his head, “I am feeling a little dangerous-” She tilted her head and Patton extended a hand, “Alright, I’ll take a second cookie.”

The girl dumped the carrots into his hands and then topped the pile with two cookies. Patton laughed. “Thank you very much, little miss.”

In a gentle motion, he sent the collection back home- hopefully Logan or Roman could figure out a way to use the carrots-, after snatching one of the cookies from the pile.

He glanced down at the girl’s letter as she looked at him with wonder in her eyes. He glanced back up, “Now, um, I don’t have what you asked for, and I apologize for that, but, is there something else you’d really like?”

Jemima shook her head. She looked down at her feet before gasping, “Wait, can you make it snow?”

Patton startled, blinking. “Can I- what?”

“I wanna be able to play in the snow! That way it can be a ‘White Christmas’! I haven’t had one before! Can you make it snow?”

Patton glanced out the window. He could change up the usual weather plan, just this once... Patton smiled, “I can most certainly do that, kiddo. Anything else, at all?”

She shook her head.

Patton nodded, “Alrighty then, one White Christmas for one Miss Jemima.” He opened his palm a sparkle of frost coating the glove as he summoned a small snowflake. Jemima clasped her hands around the flake, melting on her palm as she opened her hand to look. Patton giggled.

“Look outside.” Patton directed.

Jemima raced to the window, as she looked out to the sky, the gentle flutter of snow curling through the sky.

He took a bite of his gifted (now incidentally frozen) cookie as he stood up, watching the girl’s amazement. He glanced down at his feet, and nodded to himself, and stepped backwards into the doorway back home.

“Thank you S-” Jemima turned, looking up to find her Santa Claus missing. Jemima glanced down at the floor, a light layer of slowly melting frost that curled from around a pair of boot-prints. The only proof he’d been there at all.

-

Roman probably shouldn’t be in Patton’s Room. Snowdrops seemed to follow him as he walked through the snowy room, and he half wondered if his presence would somehow hurt Patton.

Roman rubbed his arms. He just needed to find something... He’d be in and out and- Ok. He just... missed Patton. He can admit that. The idea was simple. Patton kept so many things, especially from the humans he’d befriend, and it helped him when he could no longer see them so, maybe something of Patton’s would help him.

That said, he was usually only in Patton’s room with Patton. It felt a little weird to be here alone. He eventually found the main portion of his room, Patton’s bed was blanketed (ha, pun.) with a layer of snow, untouched. Roman glanced down to the foot of the bed to see a small wooden chest. He’d seen Patton take out extra blankets from that before. Patton wouldn’t mind if he borrowed a blanket. He’d bring it back later.... after his own room stopped being cold. How did Patton ever sleep in this cold of a room?

Roman brushed the layer of snow off the chest, and let out a soft laugh as he discovered it looked a bit like a Christmas present. Roman undid the latch and lifted the lid, glancing over the contents.

Roman tugged out the largest of the blankets inside, pressing the soft fabric against his face. The blanket smelled almost overwhelmingly of pine and spruce, likely from being in the wooden chest so long, coco, and a faint hint of some spice- maybe cinnamon? Whatever it was, it was familiar. And vaguely comforting. Roman let out a soft breath and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. Yes, Patton wouldn’t mind if he took it for now. He’d give it back when Patton came home. (Because Patton would come home. He just would....right?)

Roman moved to put the chest’s lid back, but- Was that the old cloak Patton wore during the 4th Century?

Roman dusted off the garment, most of the color seemed to have faded, having once been a pretty red. Patton always looked pretty good in red, in his opinion. (Although, he also just liked that color a lot, so maybe he was biased.) It was so much smaller than he remembered. Heavens, how old were they all during the 4th Century? Patton had to be maybe 10 in human terms? He ran his fingers over the cloak and glanced at what it had rested above-

“Oh.” Roman rested the old cloak atop one of the other blankets in the chest, looking over one of many letters, neatly folded. He pulled out one of them.

“Dear Santa Claws,

How are you? I hope you’re good!! I didn’t get to say thank you for the snow last year! Me and my friends made bunches of snowmen, and Papa took me out to go sledding! If you can, I think it’d be really nice to see more snow this year too. One of my friends said they don’t get Santa, they have a bunch of candles though. Do you do something else for them? Oh, and, Mama said that I probably didn’t get what I wanted last year because you didn’t know what it was! Sorry! This year I think just a fluffy puppy stuffy would be good!! With the spots! And if you can’t get one, I don’t mind! I think more snow would be just great. Or... maybe a bell, if you have extra? They were really pretty. Thank you! I’m gonna set out more cookies and food for the reindeer this year, I hope that’s ok. Oh! And what’s their names?! Give them hugs for me!

Thank you!

Jemima”

The letter was signed with a little heart at the end of the child’s name. Roman glanced over the other letters and laughed, “Oh, of course you’re Santa.”

Roman frowned, folding the letter and replacing it. He covered them again with the cloak and he shuffled through the rest of the chest. He eventually uncovered a red outfit, more fit to an older Patton.

Roman tugged on the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He leaned his cheek against the blanket, “When did you stop being Santa, too?” Roman whispered.

Roman glanced over his shoulder towards the door from Patton’s Room. He let out a huff, “Dear Christmas Roses... Well... I do look good in red.”

[thetwins-enchantedpen]

Musical Songs Post: Part 3

Julian, Hisoka, Albano and Aurelio

Part 1: Fernando, Everado, Valentino

Part 2: Emily, Destina, Rosa

Part 3: Julian, Hisoka, Aurelio, Albano

Julian

Candy Store - Heathers

You can join the team

Or you can bitch and moan

You can live the dream

Or you can die alone

You can fly with eagles

Or if you prefer

Keep on testing me

And end up like her

Wait For It - Hamilton

I am the one thing in life I can control

I am inimitable

I am an original

I'm not falling behind or running late

I'm not standing still

I am lying in wait

In This Corner - Kinky Boots

Hit him in his big mouth!

Hit him in his insecurity, yeah!

Hit him off his high horse!

Hit him so everyone can see

Heaven on Their Minds - Jesus Christ Superstar

Listen, Jesus, do you care for your race?

Don't you see we must keep in our place?

We are occupied; have you forgotten how put down we are?

I am frightened by the crowd

For we are getting much too loud

And they'll crush us if we go too far

If we go too far

Damned For All Time - Jesus Christ Superstar

Now, if I help you, it matters that you see

These sordid kind of things are coming hard to me

It's taken me some time to work out what to do

I weighed the whole thing up before I came to you

I have not thought at all about my own reward

I really didn't come here of my own accord

Just don't say I'm

Damned for all time

When Love Comes - Death Note

Finally there's someone to cry for

Someone I would gladly die for

Someone who is all the way alive

Can't believe the peace I'm feeling

Almost like it can't be real

Even if I die, love will survive

Funny the things the human heart will put you through

Don't see it coming till it's standing right in front of you

Satisfied - Hamilton

But when I fantasize at night it's Alexander's eyes

As I romanticize what might have been if I hadn't sized him up so quickly

At least my dear Eliza's his wife

At least I keep his eyes in my life

To the groom

To the bride

From your sister

Who is always by your side

To your union

And the hope that you provide

May you always

Be satisfied

And I know

She'll be happy as his bride

And I know

He will never be satisfied

I will never be satisfied

Hisoka

If You Want To Die In Bed - Miss Saigon

If you want to die in bed

Follow my example

When you see a cloud ahead

It's time to show your class

Hit the door before

They make a target of your ass

If you want to die in bed

In times of revolution

When the flag they fly is red

Let pride fill up your chest

What a Waste - Miss Saigon

What a waste!

To pay for my keep

I'm rounding up sheep

To fleece here in Bangkok

I'm disgraced

I can't get ahead

There's nothing as dead

As peace here in Bangkok

Ten cents an hour, that's the most they pay

I'll have to swim to the USA

If you're looking for fun

Original sin

If you want to put out

Then you gotta come in

Washington On Your Side - Hamilton

If we don’t stop it we aid and abet it

I have to resign

Somebody has to stand up for the South

Somebody has to stand up to his mouth

If there’s a fire you’re trying to douse

You can’t put it out from inside the house

I’m in the cabinet, I am complicit in

Watching him grabbin’ at power and kiss it

If Washington isn’t gon’ listen

To disciplined dissidents, this is the difference

This kid is out!

What'd I Miss - Hamilton

What'd I miss?

What'd I miss?

Headfirst into a political abyss!

I have my first cabinet meeting today

I guess I better think of something to say

I'm already on my way

To get to the bottom of this

You Gotta Die Sometime - Falsettos

Let's get on with living while we can

And not play dumb

Death's gonna come

When it does, screw the nerves

I'll be eating hors d'oeuvres

It's the roll of the dice and no crime

You gotta die sometime

Reviewing The Situation - Oliver!

A man's got a heart, hasn't he?

Joking apart, hasn't he?

And tho' I'd be the first one to say that I wasn't a saint

I'm finding it hard to be really as black as they paint

I'm reviewing the situation

Can a fellow be a villain all his life?

All the trials and tribulations!

Potiphar - Joseph

Potiphar had very few cares

He was one of Egypt's millionaires

Having made a fortune buying shares in

Pyramids

Potiphar had made a huge pile

Owned a large percentage of the Nile

(Meant that I could really live in style)

And he did

Aurelio

This Wall in my Head - Everybody's Talking About Jamie

Just one tiny thought

It started out so small

The thought made a brick

The bricks made a wall

And the wall keeps me down

And the wall trips me up

And it keeps building and building and building

This wall in my head

This wall in my head

Lifeboat - Heathers

Everyone's pushing

Everyone's fighting

Storms are approaching

There's nowhere to hide

If I say the wrong thing

Or I wear the wrong outfit

They'll throw me right over the side

History of Wrong Guys - Kinky Boots

The history of wrong guys:

Chapter one - he's a bum

Two - he's not into you

Three - he's a sleaze

Four - loves the girl next door

Five - loves the boy next door

Six - don't love you no more

- Makes you insecure

- Makes you so unsure

- Is so immature

- Loves his mother more

- Or...

... has a girlfriend named Nicola

Take What You Got - Kinky Boots

You can't move on if you're still in the past

You've gotta take what you've got

Even when your life is in knots

You take aim, take your shot

Sometimes you've gotta rewrite the plot

You've gotta take what you got

Not My Father's Son - Kinky Boots

I'm not my father's son

I'm not the image of what he dreamed of

With the strength of Sparta and the patience of Job

Still couldn't be the one

To echo what he'd done

And mirror what was not in me

The endless story of expectations swirling inside my mind

Wore me down

I came to a realization and I finally turned around

To see

That I could just be me

What I Know Now - Beetlejuice

If I knew then

What I know now

I would've crossed every line

And drank all the wine

Before my final bow

If I knew

The things that now I know

I would ride the highs and cherish the lows

Knowing it's a quick trip 'round the rodeo

So before they lower the curtain, be certain to enjoy the show

That's what I know!

Albano

Any Way The Wind Blows - Hadestown

People turn on you just like the wind

Everybody is a fair weather friend

In the end, you're better off alone

Any way the wind blows

The Game Begins - Death Note

The calculus of a solution

While changing, stays the same

The stronger mind and evolution

Determine who wins the game

I poke and prod to find a weakness

Where the bend becomes the break

[descendantofthesparrow]

Daughter of the Honorable Thief – Harry Hook x reader – part 4 – pranks and daggers

Harry Hook x Daughter of Robin Hood!Reader

 key

 h/c- hair color

 e/c- eye color

 h/l- hair length

 s/c- skin color

 y/n- your name

 clothing reference:

 ---(y/n) POV---

Later that night, you snuck around the dorm building, searching for mals room, with Elizabeth (erza for short), daughter of Will Scarlet, at your heels.

“are ya sure about this hood? I mean, this is mal! What if she?!”

You turned to Erza, a grin on your face, “why are you doubting me~ she’ll never even know it was me!”

erza pouted, “im not doubting ya! im just saying that she might put the blame on Uma! And you don’t want that do ya?” she whisper-shouted at you.

You snickered and pinched her cheeks, she scowled and smacked your hand away, rubbing her cheek

“she's not gonna put the blame on Uma because Uma wouldn’t have thought of this~”

Erza raised her brow, confused “what exactly are ya plannen?”

You grinned like a shark, flipping open your messenger bag, and revealing the prank.

…

“holy shit hood yer evil!”

You cackled silently, as you arrived at mals dorm, and easily snuck in.

Soon finishing your work, you quickly exited the room and made your way to Mals locker, and hurriedly placed your prank in place, before relocking her locker and sneaking back to your room.

“you’re an evil genius Hood”

“why thank you Erza, I try~”

----

Mal woke the next morning, expecting it to be like any other day.

She was about to be sorely mistaken.

As she stepped out of her bed, she didn’t notice the colorful plastic balls surrounding her bed, she squealed as she stumbled back onto her bed.

“what the fuck?!”

Evie sprung up from her bed, blinking away the sleep from her eyes, “Mal? Is everything alright?”

Mal snarled, chucking a blue plastic ball across the room.

“someone decided it would be fun to surround my bed with those balls that go in ball pits and shit.”

Evie rubbed her eyes and glanced down, there was a cardboard barrier surrounding Mals bed, containing the plastic balls. She raised her brow, ‘well at least im not involved in the mess’ she thought as she glanced around her bed, seeing no border or plastic balls.

“well, at least they put a border around it so its easy clean up”

Mal sighed, still pissed but Evie had a point.

Lifting herself up off the bed once more, she stepped over the border and made her way into the bathroom.

As she brushed her teeth, she heard evie call her name

“Mal? You might wanna look at this”

“wha?” Mal leaned out of the bathroom, seeing Evie pointing at a picture of her and Ben, and….their faces were taped over with…. Nicolas Cages face.

“what. The. Fuck.”

Glancing over her other pictures, everybody's faces were taped over with Nicolas Cage's face.

“seriously what the fuck!!!”

Mal screeched as she gripped the frame and ripped off the faces.

Evie snickered silently in the background, walking into the bathroom to brush her own teeth.

“Uma is going to fucking pay.” Evie stopped, Uma? When did she come into the conversation?

“are you sure Uma did this?” Evie spoke through her toothpaste, leaning out the bathroom door

Mal whipped around, her eyes glowing green, “who else would do this!!??”

Evie shrugged “I don’t know but Uma doesn’t seem like she has the patience to do this, ya know, taping down Nicolas Cage's face on all your photos, and carefully placing a ball pit around your bed? I don’t know but that doesn’t seem like Uma, shed more go for ruining your hair or one of your outfits, not do something that can be easily reversed.”

Mals eyes softened, yeah, yeah okay, this isn’t something Uma would do, but if she didn’t do it…who did?

Evie sighed, knowing Mal was going through a mental list of cuprites, so she quickly intervened and gathered her clothes, tossing one of the plastic balls at Mals butt.

“come on M! its breakfast time and I don’t want to miss my French toast!”

Mal rolled her eyes and nodded, digging through her closet and quickly grabbing an outfit.

“Alright, im going to take a quick shower tho”

Evie nodded, already halfway done with her makeup, she had taken a shower the night before.

“Alright, see you in the café”

----

Mal sighed as she walked to her locker, leaning into Carlos's side with their arms locked, she had been strangely clingy to Carlos today, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Separating from him, she made her way to her locker, entering her combination, she opened it….only for her jaw to drop and a horse scream rip from her throat.

“what the fuck?!”

Her ENTIRE locker was COVERED in Nicolas Cage's face, mal just stood in furious silence as she stared at the hundreds of faces.

“holy shit mal” Carlos voice came from behind her, laughter behind his tone “someone is  committed to a prank”

Mal huffed and grabbed her books, slamming her locker closed, placing her books in her bag, locking her arms with Carlos and Evie, and storming off to their first class.

---

Uma jumped in surprise when she heard mals scream. She whirled around and had to stop herself from bursting out laughing.

(y/n) had plastered Nicolas Cage’s face all over mals locker, holy shit!

“holy shit (y/n) went hard” she mumbled, not wanting Mal to hear her.

Harry and Gil turned at that when they saw it Gil just blinked in surprise, and Harry had to stuff his face in his bag to stifle his laughter.

“wow,” gil whistled, watching mal slam her locker closed and storm away.

“holy shite!! Lassie went ham!!” Harry finally let out his laughter leaning against his locker trying to catch his breath.

“Ya know mate if ya keep laughing like tha people are gonna think ya did the prank”

Uma turned to the new voice, and there was (y/n) and a girl with brown hair styled in an undercut, freckles dusting her face. Her amber eyes, sparkling with mischief.

“who are you?” Uma grumbled, smacking Harry's shoulder as he composed himself, taking (y/n)s hand and kissing it, she snorted and tugged her hand away, flicking his nose.

The girl smiled and bowed, smirking up at Uma, “Erza Scarlet, at yer service”

(y/n) patted Ezra's shoulder grinning at the three pirate teens, “yeah this is one of my childhood best friends, she's the daughter of Will Scarlet.”

Erza smiled, “Scarlet’s me and my dad's middle name, my full name is Elizabeth Scarlet O'Hara”

Uma, Harry, and Gil glanced at each other, odd name.

Erza winked “we’re from Georgia”

(y/n) nodded, gesturing to Erza with her hands, “shes deadly with her daggers, just like her dad”

“oh really~” Uma sang, raising her brow “how about you show us something?”

Erzas face brightened “gladly, Hood? can you?”

(y/n) rolled her eyes and turned to her locker, unlocking it and retrieving one of her compact bows, and an aluminum arrow. (yea I know, weird stuff to keep in your locker)

“whoa whoa whoa, wha is this?” Harry hurriedly asked, stepping forward slightly.

(y/n) sighed and flicked her arm, releasing the mechanisms keeping the bow folded, “don’t worry, she knows what she's doing, those daggers of hers are made of a Vibranium/steel alloy, ya know, the same stuff that captain Americas shield is made of? They can cut through anything, including my aluminum arrows.”

Harry nodded unsurely but backed up.

Erza grinned and stood several feet away from (y/n), “alright Hood ya know the drill, now fire an ‘arrow, straight at my ‘eart”

(y/n) rolled her eyes, loading her arrow. “are you sure about this?” Uma interrupted, now regretting asking for a demonstration.

Erza winked at Uma, “absolutely.” A flash of metal and her daggers spun around her palms, before stopping in her grip.

(y/n) sighed, drawing back the string, “ya know one day your gonna be too slow and im gonna get your heart”

(y/n) released her arrow, and in a flash of steel/Vibranium, the arrow was now in ribbons at Erzas feet.

Umas jaw dropped, along with Harry and Gils.

“holy fuck what part of Georgia are you from? Southcentral!?”

Erza smirked and sheathed her daggers, wiping her hands clean from the metal shavings.

“well,” (y/n) mumbled, collapsing her bow once more, storing it in her locker “that was fun, now I think its time for class.”

The sea three glanced at the clock on the wall and paled, only one minute to get to class.

“shit!!”

--- end of part 4 ---

Comment or message me for part 5

   a/n: as I was writing this, I got the news that Cameron Boyce died, he was and is a loved actor and human being, and he will be missed, we loved the way he brought Carlos to life, and he will never be the same again.

Love you Cameron, and may your memory be a blessing.

--Audrey. R. P

[z-007]

Asset Zain's Adventures

Fiction

Asset Zain’s Adventures

Agent Zain spent nearly about 3 years doing nothing. Absolutely nothing. He was reading, Ian Fleming, Mathew Dunn, Tom Clancy and the biography of Morten Storm. He had an enormous and abnormal heart beat while reading those texts. He was amazed by the intelligence, prediction of the future and vision. Let alone the abilities of the operatives’ wittiness and abilities to use magicians’ techniques to acquire all they want, by any means necessary. After reading the novels, he kept asking himself “What is the purpose of getting married and raising children, what would he gain after getting stuck in a bloody sanctimonious routine behind the desk, doing paperwork? What would he achieve? What is life without danger, adventure and taking risks? For him, he preferred to be “like a kite dancing in a hurricane”. Suddenly, the phone rang, the headquarters of the secret service told him that he was requested. He bathed in cold water after sprinting, had a double portion of espresso as “he hated small portions of anything”. After he entered the building, he smiled to the secretary, entered the office of the chief, C and stood in front of him. He told him to sit down. He looked at him morosely, it was a look of disrespect, disdain and disgust. He said,” Today is a moment of truth to begin with. You should be ashamed of yourself; you keep wasting your time chase girls. Did you know that there were heads of secret services who lost their life for the sake of women? Terrorists can set you a trap using a woman to get to you. From now on, no contact with female suspects without prior approval. Added to the fact that you keep eating unhealthy food like chocolates and candy, take a look at the weight you gained. You look so embarrassing. Let alone that you wake up 4 pm every day. This will not be tolerated. Take notice, okay?!”, Zain replied, “Of course Sir”. C continued, “this is a very rough mission I have chosen for you, since I’m well aware of your talents and skills. We have a terrorist organization called Phantom that is so dangerous, it funds terrorism and fanatics of the universe and the majority of them are psychopaths, it also funds the nastiest drug dealers of the world and working on a biological warfare project, militarizing chemical formulas to turn them into weapons instead of cures to some stubborn diseases. Your objective is to foil the terrorist organization’s plans in Desert Land, use whatever it takes and the use of brutal force is authorized: including killing and death. Second, arrest Nicolas Matera, the world’s most wanted list for drug-dealing and smuggling Heroin, captagon and raw-opium. He lives in Bolivia. The last one is finding a missing scientist whose phone went dead and held captive in Turkey, he has a very important research and we want to guarantee that this research doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. After you complete those missions, I want you to find out who is the man behind Phantom, it is the hardest part.”. Before you go, report to Colonel Falcon Quest in our training center to retrieve your fitness, be well-versed in unarmed combat, explosives, firearms and a host of other intelligence techniques, you are supposed to be as fit as a fiddle. If you fail your mission, I will have your guts for garters.”

Fitness & Training

Before exiting C’s office, I turned around and said “Thank you Sir”, he replied, “for what?”, “The truth, I answered. He closed the door behind, walked out of the building and strolled out of the grim para-military office in the city street. It was a hot and humid day, and women started to show the beauty of their bodies, from their locks of their hair, to their shell toenails inside their heels, let alone that “only God knows how many of them are on this planet, let alone where”. As he reached the tunnel, he went downstairs, he found the center. It was a brilliantly designed gym with a hall built next to it. Colonel Quest was a man in his late forties, he had a body which was similar to that of Arnold Schwarzenegger, or Hulk. His body was not only huge, so were his experiences, fighting, skills and wars. He made me believe and realize that not all angels carry the harp and sing. Some of them are warriors. He welcomed me boisterously. He was sanguine and exuberant. He treated me like his son who was also my friend. His name was John. Firstly, he asked me to take my shirt off, took a look at my body to examine it. He said, “I have an MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) program for you, I want you to promise me to follow your diet and exercises of Kickboxing, judo, Muay Thai and weightlifting. Concerning your diet, I will be sorry to inform you that you have to stop eating and drinking sweet things. It was a very hard thing at the beginning, but I said to myself “when there is a will, there is a way.” He started his first day at gym, He used to feel dizzy and nausea, it was like that for two weeks, maybe three, later the results came up step by step, he gained speed, muscles, balance, endurance. The hardest thing for him was split up various exercises, added to stretching of course. The pain they cause for a man, is similar to that of renal colic, the stones that are formed in the urinary tract, which cause bleeding. They were necessary to release the pelvis joints to perform the kicks like front, back, round and round house, and sometimes flying while doing them which made them twice harder. They were necessary to make his body like elastic rubber. 4 months later, a committee was gathered to elevate him, he was told that he needs to do what is he asked to do. He did shadowbox with kicks that he had been given, after 7 minutes of this hard work, he did 80 press-ups, 100 sit-ups and 20 pull-ups, after that he bowed for them and being told that he could leave. After that the Colonel told me via phone call that he was so proud of him. Moreover, he taught him to shoot, swim and dive. After getting done with all the work, he received a message telling him to go to the airport and wait for his flight to Desert Land.

First Mission

After he arrived, he took a taxi to the hotel, took a shower in cold water to cool the heat he felt at that dreary spot of region. He ate grilled meat, a tumbler of raki with ice and cold water, and started glaring at the ceiling, thinking about how many lives is he going to end, exterminate or take. If it was the other way round, got caught, what might they do to him? will they cut off his throat, boil him alive, soak him in gasoline and burn him…etc. All those scenes kept circulating, but he made up his mind not to think about it and spare himself this misery, he said to himself” Carpe Diem for Now Agent Zain.”. Next day, he went to the mosque, he performed the role of a hater of the modern civilized war, whose brain was not concerned about anything except converting people to Islam with threatening people with their lives. He got himself well-known among his so-called Brothers of Awareness individuals, he kept gaining their trust by setting up terrorist cells inside the city, promoting people to do the things he was totally against. When the time came, he got on a truck with the terrorists, and they reached the location of the ISTCE, they were successors of ISIS, it stood for Islamic State Task Force, even worse. Firstly, they swore to defend the Caliphate (Abu Bader El Iraqi) with their blood, to be loyal to the organization and do whatever it takes to protect it. Second, He announced his defection and betrayal on the internet, he made everybody hate him (family, friends, acquaintances and everybody). He did all of that for the sake of the game he was playing. Third, he was called by the Caliphate to kill the infidel they captured, they told him that he was a private eye, a snitch and a spy. When he approached him, held his head looked at his face, it was his bloody friend, his body shivered, he started shaking as if he had Parkinson. He killed the humanity inside him, so he did do the memories he had with him, the brethren, and the principles he grew up with. Hence with a heart as hard as a stone, and with a blood that was so cold like a wizard of ice, he stabbed his neck and removed his head out of his body, blood oozed out like a volcano and he uttered a scream similar to that of a monster. He passed his test of devotion, gained the Caliphate’s trust and he was told that he is required to finish the next stage. They started training members to behead, burn, shoot and kill. They were psychopaths brought from all over the world. Only God can tell what are they made of, or what their make-up was. This was frightening to be thought of at the very least. While he was learning to do the most gruesome things in the world, he saw a General of the spy agency he was working for, he was a traitor with a very high position, with vital information. Agent Zain was lucky for not being spotted, maybe the beard and the turban hid his facial prints. And this General was not African, Asian or Muslim, he was a blonde man with blue eyes. After the tasks were given to the Asset inside ISTC, he was ready to capture the terrorists whose faces were recognized, or tear down anyone or anything that reminded him of the organization in Desert Land. He started tracing their calls, locations and their contacts, simply because the devil lies in details. One day, he captured a man whose name was Jihad Ahmad. He was about to send children with C4 explosive charges inside civilian’s gathering. The moment, Zain shot him in the leg, he was immobilized. He later pressed the wound with his leg and he started yelling. He then looked at his eyes that were full of hatred, and asked him” Do you think that you are doing the right thing, killing women, children and families for an illusion that you are going to rule the world by Sharia Law. In the Quran, there is no place for suicide-bombing, killing and slaughter, you misunderstand the only one book you read in your life, which is ironic and pathetic.”. In addition to that, there is a verse in the Quran that says” You have your religion, and I have mine.”, there is another one that says, “who wants to

believe, believe, otherwise it is his own choice”. Jihad revealed that there was a psychiatrist who brought psychotics and schizophrenics, he exposed them to a radiation that made them believe that Allah was speaking with them: telling them to slaughter infidels, so they became professional killers. After that he picked up his phone, opened saved pictures of the victims, some were his family, wife and children’s bodies were shred by automatic fire bullets. This led to the outburst of his tears and moans of how they brainwashed him to turn this innocent man to a killer for a Caliphate who thought that he was a good Muslim. He realized that he killed the people who loved him most. Zain replied” Did you see the outcome of what you are doing, you are working for your enemies by the way. You showed them that the nation of Islam, doesn’t accept freedom of thought, expression and education. Now they are 100% sure that your nations will never ever flourish”. He stood up, wiped away his tears, his face told Zain that he was the man who grew conscious, a man who listened to the voice of wisdom. Then he said” We will work together and take that tyrant down” That’s how he recruited him, by using emotional intelligence. Days went by, their targets got ambushed by locations. What Hollywood revealed about espionage work was not 100% correct, an agent was supposed to be a grey person, someone who was seen and forgotten at the same moment. It was mostly about writing reports, sending coded texts that looked like any other text, but held a message, and the army would intervene, the agent should not always shoot or blow something up. It would be very conspicuous. In the intelligence work, discretion and secrecy are key. Following that we they kept turning over enough rocks, safe houses and locations that they were bound to be under one of them. The days of ISTC had become numbered, the Caliphate approached them and told them that he needed them. When they went back to their HQ, he was panicked, shaking and he had the looks of a very miserable man. He said, how did the security found out about Abu Kifah Al Massry, Zain acted like he never heard of him, despite that he was the one who shot him at point-blank. One of the guards beckoned him to come, and he said “Zain Ibrahim is a spy.”, it was the General whom he saw at the training camp exposed him to his enemies. His name was Cane Walker. He was someone with a very high positions, he had access to the secret service files and data. He turned Zain inside-out. All of a sudden, the guards gathered around him and his new ally, the one who he turned against his people, Jihad Ahmad. They had been dragged to a room full of starving dogs, and he said” Now, it is time for you to die a very gruesome death”, one of the guards whispered to Zain” One minute, one minute”. Bang, it was a F-35 that took off from an aircraft carrier in the Arab Gulf, flames, everywhere, all the guards and individuals started running for their lives. Jihad Ahmad strangled the caliphate with his bare hands to avenge his family and the innocent lives he took away under the orders of this murder who had no appreciation of human life. When Zain approached the General to find out about who was he working for, he said “Do you think it’s over Zain, this is just the beginning”, he said “I want a name!!”, he died the moment Zain tried to take something out of him, the trail gone cold.

Second Mission

Agent Zain felt depressed from the fact that his mission was incomplete, he was absolutely sick of not finding out who was the man behind all of this hellish journey he had to take. He noticed a bizarre thing taking place all over the world, it was drugs. Bolivia was the richest country of drugs’ types, like Alice’s wonderland. Lovely nature, seaside, the world’s best and most beautiful women. It was such a waste that this country was nearly on the verge of the abyss because of narcotics. Youth who can enlighten the world with wisdom, logic and educational creativity a digging their own graves. They have the illusion that they are escaping misery and melancholia. They claim that they make them happy. The world did an awful mistake by legalizing marijuana, forgetting the fact that it causes psychosis, a severe mental illness. The symptom of this disease will be crystal-clear after their body demands this nasty, dirty bloody substance. He got acquainted with a drug-dealer from who bought marijuana. He also got himself acquainted with all drug-dealers of the world by injecting heroin, opium and the most lethal drugs in his veins, he did it not for the love of these poisoning substances, it was to gain the loyalty of drug and narcotics’ cartels. It was purely professional. He did it after C informed him to cooperate with Interpol, so he went to their headquarters and gave him a traceable phone with bugs to put inside the cell phones of the drug cartels, so that one of them would have led him to the new drug lord, the successor of Pablo Escobar and Franz Sanchez, his name was Nicolas Matera. While Zain talked and behaved as someone who loved drugs, breathed them and adored them, learned that there was a place called the Tri-Borders area, or the Triple frontier. The place where the borders of Brazil, Argentina and Paraguay. While Agent Zain lived in that spot, it was like a small image of hell. Terrorists of all geographic spots came to it, Al Qaeda, ASU, Al Nusra Front and ISIS. It was like a heaven for them. Simply because drug-dealers used to finance them to buy weapons, arms and military supplies. Also, sex-trading, pedophilia, human-trafficking, prostitution and paid-assassins took a share as well. Everybody had a share. It was full of youth who were supposed to be wise, snorting and filling themselves with this sort of toxins. It was an import-export area of this curse. As Agent Zain got himself blend with their communities. He also got used to the torture scenes of cops and presumably police informants. They used to tear out their hands, arms, forearms, legs and every damn muscle to implement the highest amount of pain while keeping the victim alive for as long as possible. After the victim announces to whom he was working, he gets a shot between the eyes. One day all drug dealers made “A Deal of A Century”, the deal was about to load 800 Tons of every drug into lorries, take the Tri-Border spot as an area of export, and later Nicolas Matera would have made more than 100 billion dollars. The lorries were filled with gasoline, and later they take them to the scientists to release the drugs from the gas. Agent Zain, went to the bar, and sent a text message by a mobile application that made him go incognito to the Interpol. He told them the following,” Hundreds of tons of candy will be loaded in lorries to the candy shop known as, The Cuidad Del Este.”, that was the area where the lorries were about to be ambushed. “Added to that, the lorries will not go alone, they will be accompanied by so thrilled children.”. “The candy” stood for drugs shipment and “children” stood for armed-smugglers travelling via motorcycles and cars. Later the phone of Agent Zain buzzed, it was a message saying, “Thank you for your contribution”. The thugs started loading the trucks into the lorries, the loading process took 42 hours. Agent Zain Ibrahim, had to conceal the terror, fear of being caught, getting tortured and deliver all his intelligence do the miscreants behind his smile, jokes and hard work lifting and carrying the shipments. Later

Nicolas Matera, told them that he wanted the operations to be success, if failed, you will be exterminated. The moment the lorries started their engines, his heart was beating hardly and fast, he was lucky that no one of the knob heads took notice. The phone of Matera’s assistant rang, and was told to go. Later, they started travelling. They were about ten lorries, with 4 cars in the front, a raw of motorcycles at sides, each one with his SMG behind his back, with 2 at the back. When they reached Cuidad Del Este, there were people claiming that they were drug dealers, but they weren’t, they were spooks. This kind of intelligence operation was called “The Sting”, which the spy poses as a terrorist and trap the suspect and get him drained from information, about people, places and plans. And Interpol deployed snipers on roofs and the army was also involved. The gang welcomed the claimed drug dealers, smiled to them and they asked “where is the money?”, “In the boot of the car” they answered, all of the sudden, the military, cops and forces popped up from the middle of nowhere. The thugs had no choice, but to surrender. They were well surrounded. All of the thugs, and drivers were taken to interrogation, the Interpol applied the necessary pressure to find out who was behind them. They told them that after the information they gave to the investigators were correct, they would serve a reduced sentence. Moreover, they brought their mobile phone to the information section, they were all wired to computers. The purpose of that was to find out the trace of all messages,30 was from other neighboring states in South America, 60 from some Arab countries and different terrorist cartels, and all of them were protected by a server in Bolivia. It was protected by bio-metric security measures. Out of a coincidence, Agent Zain, saw a man who was so thin, wearing big glasses and his jaw was pointed to the front. He was a geek, literally a nerd. He kept working on hacking the server for 10 hours, Agent Zain looked surprised, he asked the lad “Didn’t you get tired?”, he answered “Take a look at this herb, this is called Mate, A product of Argentina, we soak it in cold water and pour 60 degrees boiled water in it, and I drink that for two hours. It helps me to stay awake with full concentration, I would bet that Hulk had drank it before he became green.”, Zain laughed, he tasted it, it was like tea and kept him awake all night. That drink was a hullaballoo of some sort. The information team kept searching, analyzing and hacking for 6 days, no stop, they found, nothing. Absolutely nothing. All of a sudden, one of the computers beeped, and gave a red signal. There were key words, “Police, Candy and Boss.”. Boss, stood as a name for Nicholas, who was presumed to be the drug lord. The secret service approached agent Zain via Interpol, C told him, agent Zain I want you to set up an arrest operation to Nicholas Matera who lives in Bolivia. You are working as a “Red Notice”, Zain replied “Very good Sir.”. Agent Zain, took a bus and then chose a safe house, ordered priests customs so that he could pose to the narco-terrorist as a low-level gangster posing as a religious and pious man, a member of his group, that would have been more convincing. When he reached his castle, it was made of Romanian temples’ stones, it was also facing the beach and full of guards, expensive cars and race vehicles. As he walked his path to the master narco-terrorist of all times, Nicholas Matera. Agent Zain greeted him with biblical words, he spoke fluent Spanish, this is why he had no problem with him. He introduced himself as Priest Basilio Álvarez. Agent Zain saw him. He was a man in his late forties, brown eyes and a moustache, fat and bohemian in some sort. Zain started talking with him about his glories. He said, “I was born a poor man, my father killed my mother when I was young because she cheated on him, and plotting against him, in other words, she was trying to turn him over to the police. And we had to make money anyway possible, so he started smuggling

drinks of all kind, like Whiskey, Vodka and Tequila. We started to get by bit by bit. Later, my father has introduced me to a drug lord who made fortunes out of marijuana, cocaine and we became the richest people in the world. After my father died, I swore that I will do anything in my domain to preserve his legacy and expand his kingdom”. Zain then said, “This is so inspiring, can I become a member of your entourage, especially that loyalty is more important to you than money?”, “Por supesta”. He answered. “Saludos me hermano”, he was overwhelmed by this request. All of a sudden, Matera’s phone rang, it was a call with a photo confirming that Zain was a spook. The same way he got caught in ISTCE, (Islamic State Task Force). It was someone from the very top, Zain swore if he got out, and found out who it was, he would “Turn him to smithereens.”. Nicolas Matera said, “don’t do anything stupid, your cover was blown by someone from the very top. The same people you work for”. “It is true that you turned down my deal of the century, but I’m stronger more than you know. I will lead the whole world to its own grave. Europeans and Americans came to my country to steal our gold, silver, tin, ore and ivory. Arabs from the gulf and middle east, raped our women. They also made women of our regions as sex-slaves. I have a much more gruesome project. It is called Refreshing Air, I have deployed 30 planes filled with Chinese Fentanyl, my pilots will spray it into the atmosphere of our enemies. This will be the most gruesome revenge of my empire.”, Zain interrupted, “You want to spray Fentanyl, it is a drug that kills the pain of stubborn diseases. It is also addictive”, Matera said, “When the fentanyl gets reduced in their blood, they will all come to me and pay billions of dollars and euros. This is how they will lick my boots and kiss them to become bewitched by my charm.” Zain interrupted, “You are bragging about yourself, you will end up in the dunghill of history.” Matera screamed, “Guards, take this gringo to the sewers and soften him up, I’m not done with him yet. I want to hear his pain knocking on my office door in the upper floor.”. The moment they stripped him out of his clothes, they started whipping his skin, kicking him in the testicles and breaking the bones of his face. Later, Interpol noticed that Zain’s phone went dead, so they informed NATO to arrange the arrest of this villain. Then a plane 3000ft in the sky opened its gate and soldiers jumped out of it, deployed their parachutes, landed at the roof of Matera’s castle and cocked their SMGs, AKS’s with silencers and everybody started shooting. Bullets were pouring down like rain. This was a real war. The moment Matera gave orders to kill Agent Zain, he held a piece of broken glass tightly. The moment one of the guards got too close, Zain stuck it in his eye, the guard yelled, Zain untied himself, took the rifle, and shot his way out of the sewers. He started running naked until extraction team took him to HQ. He was unable to think, move or do anything. He said, “What happened?!”, they said “Matera is dead”, “he committed-suicide and the drugs had been taken by authorities.”. Zain went back to the mental-health centre of his secret service’s station. He spent a very long time of rehabilitation, to release the toxins he inserted into his veins that turned him into an irrational human being. He learned that everything he did, came at a cost.

Third Mission

Zain spent nearly a year at hospital. Resisting the aches and itches of his body, the pain of bruises, wounds and tumours. The mental health treatment he went through was beyond hardship, it was harder than the disease. He had psychotic symptoms from the bloody damn drugs as a consequence of arresting Nicolas Matera. He spent about two years to retrieve his vitality and making his brain clear and sharp like knife’s razor. One of the nurses came and said “Zain, you have a phone call”, “Okay”, he said. Zain went to the reception desk, the nurse handed him the phone, it was C who wanted him, he said, “You are requested immediately, you have to report.”, “Yes sir, I’m coming”. Zain had a military haircut; he shaved his beard with a cut-throat razor. He wore his white shirt, black suit and shoes and a blue tie. When he arrived to HQ, smiled to the secretary and told him that he could come in, C looked at him and told him to sit down. C said “Glad to have you back agent Zain, welcome! I’m contained that you have to retrieve your mental health and physical well-being after foiling down Nicolas Matera. The new mission is three more times complicated than the other two. There was a scientist held captive in Turkey. His name is George Cranwell. He was researching a formula to cure cancer. We want you to investigate where and why he was kidnapped. We don’t want the research to fall into the wrong hands, because it could be turned to a deadly weapon. Moreover, our information computers picked up three key words, which were bioweapons, research and password. The signal went dead in Castello de Bodrum. Zain booked himself a flight that lasted 12 hours to Bodrum. When he arrived, he took a taxi and started enjoying the view of the seaside, beaches, blue sky and the beautifully decorated Turkish buildings. After arriving to his hotels, he checked in a suite just up to the beach, put on his swimming trunks and started swimming, free diving wearing his glasses and breathing tube. After he finished, he ordered oysters, crabs, lobsters, fish and Vain De Chateaux, a bottle of French wine. As he got ready, fully-focused and vital, he accessed the Secret Service website from his lap-top, they informed him that the signal of the missing scientist aka George Cranwell, is coming from an abandoned prison site which dates back to Sultan Abdul Hamid. He closed the browser, got up, stretched his muscles, bathed in cold water. Took a BMW G32, attached the silencer to his Beretta 9mm and took AKS-74u assault rifle. He had a full quiver. He looked like a soldier of Spetsnaz or the SAS, a scary human-being without any human looks in his eyes. He drove his way to the unknown site, it was full of bizarre prisons that date back to Middle Ages, iron sharp pointed poles to impale opposers to the Ottoman regime. All of sudden, he heard a scream coming from one of the cells. They were all empty, he had to kill some guards with his silenced Beretta and walked his way to the location. In one of the rooms, Zain saw a man who was bleeding all over himself, Zain asked, “Who was it? Who did this to you?”, “Sakharov”, he answered. “He wanted my research for Project Koroleva”. Zain went out of the room and kept investigating. Out of a bad luck the guards were alarmed as a consequence that one of the guards saw him. They started shooting at him. He took cover, cocked his rifle and the war started. After he illuminated them, he saw the scientist called George Cranwell, Piotr Sakharov was yelling at him. “What is the password of the USB drive?”, they struck him with electricity to cause pain. “Stop!!”, said Cranwell, “I will tell you”. He whispered in Sakharov’s ear. Sakharov whispered to the guards; they took Cranwell to the pole for impalement. Zain saw the brutality of the sight as the pole entered his anus and went out of his skull. What a ghastly sight! Later Sakharov’s phone rang, it was an anonymous phone call. All of which Zain heard was, “Take care of Alexander Vladimirovich”. Zain threw a hand grenade among the guards, and blast. Some of them were torn, others

wounded and the shrapnel cut Mr. Sakharov. As his bodyguard took him to safety, Zain spent a lot of his time setting traps and shooting the fire out of them. As a consequence of their death. Zain cocked his pistol and started looking for Mr. Sakharov as he got closer to them in one of the cells, the bodyguard lifted him above his shoulders and tossed him to the ground, which caused a mild shell-shock. Agent Zain, staggered up to his feet, standing on his pain and slim body compared to the mule’s body. The hand-to-hand combat began. Agent Zain punched his face with his fists, jabs, cross-jabs, hooks and upper-cuts. The bodyguard, kicked him on the knee, which led to Zain’s fall. Still, he had no sense of giving up inside his brain and heart. Zain did a front kick to his skull, flying- round house, hook and sidekicks. He hurt him. It was the moment Zain realized that he was only a man, not a machine. The fight lasted for 15 minutes until Zain picked his Beretta from the floor and shot him between the eyes. When Asset Zain reached Sakharov, he pointed his pistol at him and said, “I’m afraid that you don’t have any assistance now, there is no one to do your dirty work on your behalf”. “There’s only you and me”. Agent Zain asked him, “Why do you want to kill Alexander Vladimirovich? And who is he?” Sakharov swallowed the Cyndie pill to preserve his secret intel added to that he wanted to assure that no single word be told about his employer out of fear and scare. Now agent Zain swore and got a bit angry and confused. So, all that is left for him to go behind Alexander Vladimirovich. Hence, he started searching his personal effects, phones, lap-tops, tabs and personal computers, and informed the Information Branch to find leads about Alexander Vladimirovich. They told Agent Zain that he is staying at the Nevsky Forum Hotel in St. Petersburg. Then he phoned him, Vladimirovich said, “Da?!”, “Brigadier Vladimirovich, this is Zain Ibrahim calling from the Interpol.”, “To what I owe the pleasure of this phone call Zain?”, He said. Zain asked, “Why did low level gangster Piotr Sakharov want you dead?”, “I think you and I better have a drink and talk.”, he answered. “Are you suggesting an alliance?”, Zain asked. Vladimirovich said, “Meet me at the hotel called Nevsky, come alone”. Asset Zain booked himself a flight to St. Petersburg. It was a tedious journey that lasted 10 hours inside then airplane. When the flight was over, he took a taxi to his hotel. He met him at the reception desk, he worked for the FSB (Federal Security Bureau), very wise and judicious in his late 50. He greeted him boisterously. Zain asked him, “tell me brigadier, why did Piotr say that he would have you killed? And who do you suspect?”. Vladimirovich smiled to him and said, “You got yourself stuck in a very critical situation, you will be facing a very nasty human being, a rogue KGB major. His name is Alec Rastislav. Rastislav was a psychiatrist and joined the KGB out of a proclaimed devotion to mother Russia. He was a liar for he was exploiting his positions to kill people under his command without the state’s knowledge. He was also stealing millions of dollars and robles to fund his operations. What Russia didn’t know how he could make the world’s worst killers and assassins. All that they know that he was corrupt to the bones, so were his manners”. Zain asked Vladimirovich, “Do you know how we can find him?”, “Well!”, he exclaimed, “We received information that he is treating psychotic and schizophrenic illnesses at his under-water clinic in Banana Beach, Thailand, it is also heavily guarded and secluded of outer influences, except the ravishing underwater corals and reefs, fish and other sea creatures.” Zain said, “We should take a closer look at that clinic”. Vladimirovich added, “Nobody knows how he turns people to killers, after investigating and interrogating them, their memories were wiped out, and seeing things nobody could see, and also hear voices that nobody knew where they’re coming from”, Zain exclaimed, “That’s odd! I would suggest that we

devise a plan to find out how he turns those patients to killing machines.”, Vladimirovich replied, “I will set you an appointment with the doctor”. “Fine then, tell him that you have a janitor for him who cleans up the filth, or a male servant.”, Vladimirovich replied, “Done”. Agent Zain booked himself a flight to Thailand. It was an amazing city, anyhow he didn’t find the link of how serial killers are programmed to cause the maximum number of deaths from such a lovely geographic spot. What was the sort of treatment used for such proclaimed mental illnesses? When he arrived, he checked in a hotel near Banana beach. It was called Le Meridien Phuket Beach Resort. He later took a shower after swimming and diving, had lunch, and went to the clinic via a driver of Alec Rastislav. It was breathtaking journey because the streets, buildings and trees sights were very beautiful. Later the underwater tunnel that is made of glass to see the bottom of the sea while going to a clinic was ravishing. When he arrived, he met his assistant who was a fellow doctor, his name was Sergei. He took him to his room, on his way, he saw cellars from which someone was screaming “Allah Akbar”, “Death to the enemies of Islam. Death to the infidels and disbelievers. Islam should rule the universe”. The second cellar someone was saying, “Lord Jesus, God, I will defend your land with my blood. Muslims have stolen our homes, jobs and raped our women, hence I will kill all of them”. Zain was wondering what the hell was that, he couldn’t find that out. He asserted that Alec Rastislav was programming people with mental illnesses to cause death. It was MK-Ultra. During the cold war between the USSR and the USA. Both KGB and the CIA used MK-Ultra to win the war against each other by creating killers of the worst kind. They were deprived of their senses, logic and wisdom, they saw nothing except the people they are supposed to take away his life. This program was used against politicians and people. Firstly, they do them electroconvulsive therapy without anesthesia. Later they drug them with LSD, a psychedelic which cause them hallucinations. Hence, he goes behind his target to take away his life. As Asset Zain was disguising as a worker to Rastislav’s office, a pistol pumped against his skull and turned him unconscious. He woke up to find himself tied to a metal bed so that Mr. Rastislav enjoys his sadistic frivolous self. “Good evening Agent Zain, you have been recognized”, he said. The metal bed was electrified, Zain could feel all his body while he was tied. As Rastislav was about to talk to Zain, he turned off the electric shocks. He started explaining his motives behind such evil, unhuman ruthless plot. “I have worked for the KGB rising to the rank of Major. I built my own kingdom, out of blackmail, robbery, fool and deception. I have created my mental health clinic for the following reason”, “The environment is under threat, especially animals due to hunting. I want to preserve those animals from extinction. And I will do whatever it takes to save this planet. I have programmed people in three categories. The first one is composed of fanatic Muslims thinking Allah is telling them to go slaughter the Jews and crusaders. The other is a group of fanatic Christians who have an urge to defend their lands against immigrants’ invasion. The last one is the one that will cause a pandemic under the name Project Koroleva. They are about to use an atomizer to release a deadly virus in a reservoir I’m going to build, after I turn the water pipes to it. I can guarantee that the virus Koroleva will kill as many as possible”. Zain laughed, “The three groups of sick people will make you eradicate the human race then”, “Yes exactly”, he replied. Later, the electricity was connected again to his body. Zain spent all the night screaming, and dropped in his cell. He woke shaking and bleeding because they wounded him. As he sat gazing at the ceiling, there is no one to rescue him, he started praying that Jesus save him from those devils. He was crying because he will be

executed, and that he failed to take down the bastard. All of a sudden, fire of rifles banged inside the clinic between Rastislav’s guards and Spetsnaz forces. They stormed into his room, they were all in black uniforms and masked. Spetsnaz and Alexander Vladimirovich captured the two fanatic groups and were loaded in trucks. The biological team was on his own. He took assault AKS-74u and started chasing them. They were armed as well and were captured. They were caught by army’s road blocks and spike strip that deflated the tiers. The gangsters have chosen death over giving up. Zain, was shooting them with his rifle, and snipers took care of the rest and their atomizers captured. Later Alexander Vladimirovich told Asset Zain that he is grateful for his participation in capturing a former KGB and an FSB rouge agent. I replied “He was an enemy to my country”, “The proverb says my enemy’s enemy is my friend”. After finishing the three missions, Agent Zain called the Information Branch, Zain asked them whether they found any link to Phantom, especially that they scanned all their devices, phones and emails. They said that they are still looking for a name. Seconds later, C called Zain and told him that the foreign secretary wants to see you personally. Later Zain took a car and drove to the foreign secretary’s house, and got out of the car. He saluted him boisterously and started talking about his missions. Zain expressed his anger and dissatisfaction about the fact that there was someone from inside the country with a very high rank exposing him and blowing his cover. Suddenly, Zain’s phone rang, it was a message confirming that the foreign secretary was the one funding Phantom and its chief. The guards cocked and pointed their guns at his head, right between his eyes and told him not to move, took him to the upper floor and sat him on a chair. The minister started talking, “I was so amused by the way you handed the three operations Zain, but I’m sick of remaining in this country and disgusted to the full. I want to live somewhere hot close to the beach, I also want to date models and porn stars. I want to fulfill my desire by sexual tourism. I want to sleep with white, brunette, redhead women and teenagers”. As Asset Zain was listening to him and seeing how primitive that person was, he noticed an open window that shows the wide sea right beneath the sun. Zain saw a red dot on the minister’s chest. He smiled to the minister and said, “I think this is the last smile you will have”. Bang! Three bullets killed the minister. It was a SAS boat with an installed sniper on it. After that, they stormed into the villa and killed all the guards. When that was over, TV news reports revealed that the foreign minister died of a heart attack. Otherwise, his country will be a laughing stock in the intelligence community.

Last Journey

Agent Zain was standing in front of C in his office. He said, “You are a brilliant field operative, I wanted to inform you that you have become an officer. Congratulations! You can take a year holiday.”, “Thank you Sir. That means a lot to me”. As Zain got out of the building, he booked himself a flight to Alaska, simply because everything was snow white. There was nothing but ice and the -30 degrees cold lakes and sea. As Zain got closer to one of them, he took of his clothes so that the cold which cracks the bones will make him forget many things. First, the people who bullied him at school. Second, the fact that he had a stubborn mental illness from university professors who were bigots. Third, the reality that he had no woman or a girl to love him, and that he spent lots of money on filthy bitches who have no resemblance of a bloody female. He had chosen to serve his country and give up many things for this cause. Finally, he plunged into the icy water and gave his memories the last goodbye. The underwater world ravished him. For him, that was Paradise.

The End

[amazing-web]

CLASSIC PROJECT DISCOTEQUE VOLUMEN 01

01- BLACK MACHINE – HOW GEE !02- K7 – COME BABY COME03- JOE PUBLIC – LIVE AND LEARN04- RUN D.M.C. – WALK THIS WAY05- N-TRANCE – STAYIN’ ALIVE06- CJ LEWIS – R TO THE A07- DR. ALBAN – BORN IN AFRICA08- BACKSTREET BOYS – EVERYBODY (BACKSTREET´S BACK)09- SALT-N-PEPA – LET’S TALK ABOUT SEX10- DIMPLES D – SUCKER DJ

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CLASSIC PROJECT DISCOTEQUE VOLUMEN 02

01- D´TRAIN – YOU´RE THE ONE FOR ME02- DONNA SUMMER – BAD GIRLS03- KOOL & THE GANG – CELEBRATION04- SISTER SLEDGE – ALL AMERICAN GIRLS05- CHIC – LE FREAK06- MICHAEL ZAGER BAND – LET´S ALL CHANT07- OLIVER CHEATHAM – GET DOWN SATURDAY NIGHT08- THE JACKSONS – SHAKE YOUR BODY09- LIPPS INC. – FUNKYTOWN10- OTTAWAN – HANS UP

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CLASSIC PROJECT DISCOTEQUE VOLUMEN 03

01- THE COMMUNARDS DON’T LEAVE ME THIS WAY02- TIFFANY I THINK WE’RE ALONE NOW03- TRANS-X – LIVING ON VIDEO04- LIME – BABE WE’RE GONNA LOVE TONIGHT05- MICHAEL BOW – LOVE AND DEVOTION06- EDDIE MURPHY – PARTY ALL THE TIME07- CYNDI LAUPER – SHE BOP08- BRONSKI BEAT – WHY09- AMII STEWART – KNOCK ON WOOD10- SPANDAU BALLET – TO CUT A LONG STORY SHORT

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CLASSIC PROJECT DISCOTEQUE VOLUMEN 04

01- OMD – ENOLA GAY02- SOFT CELL – TAINTED LOVE03- STARSHIP – WE BUILT THIS CITY04- FLOCK OF SEAGULLS – I RAN (SO FAR AWAY)05- DEVO – PEEK-A-BOO06- ELECTRIC LIGHT ORCHESTRA – HOLD ON TIGHT07- THE CARS – SHAKE IT UP08- BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN – DANCING IN THE DARK09- TOTAL COELO – I EAT CANNIBALS10- TONI BASIL – HEY MICKEY

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CLASSIC PROJECT DISCOTEQUE VOLUMEN 05

01- CORONA – THE RHYTHM OF THE NIGHT02- A.B. LOGIC – THE HITMAN03- BIZARRE INC. I´M GONNA GET YOU04- FREAK BROTHERS FEAT. NIGHTWALKERS – PUSH THAT FUNKY FEELING05- MAX-A-MILLION – FAT BOY06- DJ DERO – BATUCADA07- REAL MCCOY – ANOTHER NIGHT08- NO MERCY – WHERE DO YOU GO09- DR. ALBAN – IT´S MY LIFE10- WHIGFIELD – SATURDAY NIGHT

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CLASSIC PROJECT DISCOTEQUE VOLUMEN 06

01- SAM THE SHAM & THE PHARAOHS – WOOLY BULLY02- THE POLICE – CAN’T STAND LOSING YOU – THE POLICE03- BILLY IDOL – CRADLE OF LOVE04- QUIET RIOT – CUM ON FEEL THE NOIZE05- STEPPENWOLF – BORN TO BE WILD06- THE KNACK – MY SHARONA07- GEORGE HARRISON – GOT MY MIND SET ON YOU08- PHIL COLLINS – TWO HEARTS09- QUEEN – CRAZY LITTLE THING CALLED LOVE

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CLASSIC PROJECT DISCOTEQUE VOLUMEN 07

01- SHAGGY – BOOMBASTIC02- QUEEN – WE WILL ROCK YOU03- MUNGO JERRY – IN THE SUMMERTIME04- ELVIS PRESLEY – DON´T BE CRUEL (SPANKOX RE VERSION HIGHPASS REMIX)05- A-HA – TAKE ON ME (DMC REGGAE RUMBLE REMIX)06- UB40 – CAN’T HELP FALLING IN LOVE07- INNER CIRCLE – BAD BOYS08- SERGIO MENDES & BRASIL ’66 – MAS QUE NADA09- CHUBBY CHECKER – LIMBO ROCK10- GUAPOSAN – MAMBO Nro 811- LOU BEGA – MAMBO Nro 512- THE CHAMPS – TEQUILA

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CLASSIC PROJECT DISCOTEQUE VOLUMEN 08

01- BARRY WHITE – NEVER NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP02- JOE COCKER – YOU CAN LEAVE YOUR HAT ON03- JOHN FARNHAM – YOU´RE THE VOICE04- FALCO – ROCK ME AMADEUS05- GEORGE MICHAEL – FREEDOM ’9006- ROXETTE – THE LOOK07- OPUS – LIFE IS LIFE08- THE GUESS WHO – AMERICAN WOMAN09- JOAN JETT – I LOVE ROCK AND ROLL10- AC/DC – BACK IS BLACK

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CLASSIC PROJECT DISCOTEQUE VOLUMEN 09

01- SNOW – INFORMER02- DR. ALBAN – NO COKE03- ACE OF BASE – ALL THAT SHE WANTS04- WHIGFIELD – BIG TIME05- ACE OF BASE – THE SIGN06- DR. ALBAN – AWAY FROM HOME07- SHOUT – TEARS FOR FEARS08- GEORGE MICHAEL – TOO FUNKY09- DJ BOBO – THERE IS A PARTY10- MR. PRESIDENT – COCO JAMBO

INFORMACIÓN DEL PRODUCTO: Formato: M4A - audioSonido: StereoAutor: Nicolas Escobar (Todos sus derechos reservados)

[doveziam]

Wrong For Too Long - Chapter 1

Fanfic based on THIS PROMPT posted by @right-next-to-u. Thanks, Sweetie! <3 Thanks @ziam-fanatic my love, for editing and helping me! x

Title: Wrong For Too Long (or read on AO3) By: doveziam Pairing: Zayn Malik/Liam Payne Rating: E Genre: Angst (if you feel insecure, read the tags) Chapters: 1/4 (56k) Summary:

While a lot of people spent years and years pining for someone they didn’t know, it was very easy for Liam to discover who his soulmate was. The most expected day to everybody he knew, came for him at a very young age. He was fifteen, and it was the first day of classes. He was distracted by his phone and bumped into his crush.

Unfortunately.

CHAPTER 2 (AO3) | CHAPTER 3 (AO3) | CHAPTER 4 (AO3)

Chapter 1: In the clouds where the angels sing

While a lot of people spent years and years pining for someone they didn’t know, it was very easy for Liam to discover who his soulmate was. Unfortunately.

The most expected day to everybody he knew, came for him at a very young age. He was fifteen, and it was the first day of classes. He was distracted by his phone and bumped into his crush.

Zayn Malik.

He was so pretty that Liam felt his face get hot when he thought about him. His skin was dark gold, like soft caramel. His eyes were so beautifully shaped and were a shiny dark shade of brown, with eyelashes so long and thick that they looked like butterfly wings flapping over his eyes when he blinked. Liam spent so much time looking at Zayn that he noticed a little freckle on his left eye, like a beauty mark, and he became even more endeared by Zayn’s beauty. His nose was perfect. Simply perfect. It had the perfect size and the perfect shape, and Zayn wore a ring on it, making it more enticing, if that was possible. His cheekbones were high and sharp, like an Adonis. And his mouth. God. His mouth. His lips were naturally pouty, and looked so soft that Liam wanted to touch it. Not kiss - okay, kiss too - but touch it with his hands or even his own cheek. He wanted to know how it feels to have Zayn’s lips over his skin. Michelangelo would fight for the opportunity to paint Zayn.

“Why don’t you look where you’re going, stupid?” Zayn’s voice rang in the corridor, his brow furrowed in annoyance. His books were scattered on the floor along with Liam’s phone, and Liam dropped to his knees to pick them up quickly.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, face burning, when he gave them back to Zayn.

Zayn took them from his hands abruptly. “Fuck off,” he said and sidestepped him, going to his locker. Zayn’s friends snickered at Liam and went with him.

Liam blinked repeatedly, shocked by that reaction. A bump was annoying, okay, but he thought it wasn’t that annoying to grant such rudeness. He sighed and went to his locker. It was his first interaction ever with Zayn. Memorable… He thought, sarcastically.

Liam had hoped - scratch that, not hoped. He had dreamed that Zayn would be his soulmate. It was common to have crushes before meeting one’s soulmate, and Liam imagined that Zayn wouldn’t be his. He was too beautiful, popular and smart; he would never glance at Liam.

Liam was crushing for some good years now, and he thought that maybe he could someday have a chance. Not to be his mate, but to be his friend. Or even date a bit. One could dream, and Liam dreamed a lot.

Well, after that episode, he knew for sure he would never have a chance. If Zayn was interested in dating someone who wasn’t his soulmate, that person wouldn’t be Liam. That thought brought a pain so sharp and unexpected in his chest that he stopped walking and put a hand over his heart.

What’s going on? He thought when he felt a burning in his hand.

He looked down and saw the word “STUPID” appearing on his hand, letter by letter, in capitals, close to his thumb. A cold shiver went through his body, making him tremble and catch his breath. Shit. He looked around, alarmed, remembering where he was, but no one had noticed what was going on with him.

He ran to the restroom and locked himself in a cubicle. He dropped his backpack on the floor and inspected the letters. It’s impossible. It’s not him. He saw how it worked with his parents and his sister Nicola. The words that your soulmate said about you should appear on your skin, like tattoos that only went away after the soulmates got together, but it wasn’t like this. At least he thought it wasn’t like this, because one’s soulmate wouldn’t call them names, would they?

Liam was freaking out a little bit, but he didn’t want to get all worked up for something he wasn’t sure about, so he swallowed his worry and went to class. When he went home after classes he would ask his mother. She would tell him it didn’t work that way and everything would be okay.

Zayn wouldn’t be his soulmate, but it was better than the other possibility, yeah? Yeah.

He and Zayn shared two classes that day, one of them being English, which Zayn excelled in and Liam didn’t. Liam sat at the back of the classroom and kept his head bowed all the time. He didn’t want to bring Zayn’s attention to himself anymore that day. Fortunately, none of his teachers called on him and he didn’t make an ass of himself. He kept his hand hidden under the table the whole time.

–

Liam covered the ‘STUPID’ on his hand with a band-aid when he got home. The reason? Shame. Simple and devastating shame. He was hoping that Zayn wouldn’t be his soulmate - and can you imagine how in less than a day his dream became a nightmare? So, when he got home, he locked himself in the bathroom with the aid kit and found a band-aid the size of his soulmate imprint. And he needed to stop calling it that way, because it wasn’t a soulmate imprint. It was another thing. He didn’t know what it was, but… He sighed, putting the kit back in the cabinet.

He went downstairs to find his mother. She was in the kitchen, making dinner.

“Hey, sweetheart. How was school?” she asked, smiling kindly.

“It was okay,” he answered, looking for an apple in the fridge.

“What is that?”’ his mom asked, pointing to the band-aid on his hand.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I bumped today on someone at school,” he answered.

“Is it hurting? How’s the other kid?” she asked, but didn’t fuss too much, probably because it sounded like something silly.

“I’m okay. He’s okay too,” Liam answered, sitting on the table and munching the apple. He was trying to breach the subject with his mom, but in a way so she didn’t suspect anything. He couldn’t think of an easy way, so he blurted: “Mom, how was the first time a soulmate imprint appeared on you?”

Karen smiled dreamily. “I was in a job interview at the factory and the word ‘cute’ appeared on my hand,” she answered. “Why, love?”

“I got curious,” Liam said, and it was true. “And you know about Nic’s?”

“Yeah, I know, because I saw it before her,” she laughed a little.

“Oh, yeah, I remember now,” he said, remembering Nicola jumping around the house, happy that her soulmate called her ‘sweetie’. She didn’t know who he was at the time, but it didn’t take long and soon she was bringing him home to introduce to the family. “I was asking myself, what shows in your skin is everything your soulmate says about you or just, like, the good things? I mean, if you fight with dad and he says something not nice, would it appear on your skin?”

His mom opened her mouth to answer and then closed. “I hadn’t thought about that,” she said. “It’s a good question, though. But then, one’s soulmate would never say something bad about their mate, would they?” She smiled at Liam.

“I- Yeah, I guess they wouldn’t…” he mumbled.

“They wouldn’t,” Karen said, sounding sure of herself. “Even when we fight, your dad never says anything bad about me. I never heard of a soulmate doing it, so I guess it’s not possible.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Liam said, smiling a little.

He went to his bedroom holding the apple, but he didn’t want to eat it anymore. He dropped it in the trash and sat in front of his desk, looking at his laptop, thinking. Maybe I can find something on Internet.

Liam logged onto his laptop and searched for soulmate imprints. The results varied from gossip magazines with silly tests to know if you were ready for meeting your soulmate to links of stories of people who went mad because they never met their soulmates. Soon enough, Liam understood that he wouldn’t find what he needed on Google. Not normal Google at least. He went to Scholar Google and searched for academic articles about soulmate imprints. This last search came with more reliable results. He started to click on the articles and read. His mom called him for dinner and he said he was studying and she left him alone. It was close to one in the morning when he stopped reading. He rubbed his eyes, the words blinking under his eyelids.

“There is a few related cases of insulting words appearing on one’s soulmate’s hand. It can be caused by misunderstandings that make one of the subjects develop conflicting thoughts about the other. It might happen in consequence of preconceived views as well. In both instances, it can bring a traumatic experience to both soulmates, but with more severe consequences to the offended part. On this account, those words do not show one’s true feelings, they are expressed as a result of one’s social interactions and beliefs. In those cases, the love and yearning continued to exist even though the subject used insulting words to describe their soulmate.”

Liam didn’t know how to react to that information. He pushed the laptop away and leaned his head on the desk, taking deep breaths. Calm yourself down. He said to himself. Everything is gonna be alright.

To everything be alright, he needed a plan, though.

He raised his head, getting up from the chair and laying down on his bed. He put his hands over his stomach and looked at the ceiling. What should I do? He tapped his fingers nervously. First, I have to be sure if he’s my soulmate. How do I do that? He didn’t know. I have to make him say something about me. Or… I can say something about him and pay attention tomorrow? But, how can I be sure it was something I said and not another person?

Liam didn’t know if Zayn had already found his soulmate. He never heard anything about, and never noticed anything on his hands. Liam never said something about Zayn, either. Liam didn’t have many friends. Okay, he didn’t have any friends at school, then, he didn’t have anyone to talk about Zayn. Not that he would talk about him, to be honest. He couldn’t risk anyone discovering his crush.

Okay, let’s do this. Liam took a deep breath and released the air slowly. He closed his eyes and imagined Zayn in front of him, smiling that smile that he almost never smiled, the one that made him look like a dork. Liam smiled too, and whispered:

“My Angel.”

As soon as he said it, he fell asleep.

–

Liam was on edge the next day. He covered the ‘STUPID’ with another band-aid and went to school decided to check Zayn’s hands. When he arrived, there was a commotion around the tree close to the entrance. He stopped, but didn’t got close to it. Wouldn’t be the first time he regretted his curiosity. People were talking over themselves and he didn’t understand what they were saying. He was giving up on knowing what was happening, when Louis Tomlinson screamed.

“SHUT UP!” And everyone went silent. “Don’t you all have classes? Go take care of your fucking business and leave Zayn alone,” he shooed and the people scattered around, mumbling in an annoyed manner.

Shit! Liam turned around when he realized it was Zayn and his mates that were surrounded by people. He went to his locker with his head bowed and his heart beating fast. What was it people were so interested? Maybe it was…

“I can’t believe Zayn’s soulmate noticed him!” he heard a girl talking to her friends on the other side of the corridor.

“I know, right? He’s so hot! It’s a shame his soulmate is already close. Do you reckon they already know Zayn’s their soulmate?” another girl said.

“After all this, probably! I mean, the entire school knows by now!” a third girl said.

“But maybe this person is from another school?” the girl sounded hopeful.

“Why are you saying these things? You’re not his soulmate. He won’t date you,” the third girl said, exasperated.

“Who said date? I just wanna make out session,” was the answer, and Liam decided he had snooped in enough.

He quickly picked up his books and went to his class. He was the first to get in the classroom, and he sat in his usual place at the back. He noticed his hands were sweating and he cleaned them on his trousers. Calm the fuck down. He thought, taking deep breaths. He didn’t know for sure if it was his word that was imprinted on Zayn’s hand, but what were his odds? He took a deep breath and blowed the air slowly through his mouth.

Some minutes later his teacher and his classmates filled the class, Zayn among them. Liam noticed he wasn’t hiding his hands, per se, but wasn’t showing off either. He sat on his usual place, Ant Riach by his side, and behaved almost the same way he did every day. The only difference was that from time to time he would send a fond look towards his right hand. It was positioned on the table in a way that Liam couldn’t see what was imprinted on it, so he kept stealing looks at Zayn’s direction.

Liam was so distracted with everything, that he didn’t hear when the teacher called him the first time.

“Payne!” her voice sounded louder in the classroom, and Liam looked at her. His classmates snickered and he felt his face burn.

“Sorry, Mrs. Dawson. What was it?” he asked her.

“Did you read the chapter I told you to read yesterday?” she asked.

“No, I didn’t,” he said, his voice low, and another bout of snickers filled the room.

His professor sighed tiredly. “Please, start reading it now,” she said and he nodded, opening his book.

He glanced at Zayn’s direction, and it looked like he had just turned his face away, smirking. Was he looking at me? Probably. I was being the joke. Again. Ant leaned close to Zayn’s ear and whispered something. Zayn snickered lowly and looked at Liam briefly, catching him staring. Liam turned his eyes to his book and kept his head lowered. He felt his right hand burn and hid it under the table. Shit!

It wasn’t until the end of the class that Liam had the opportunity to see what was imprinted on Zayn’s hand. Liam got up, collected his material and started to walk to the exit, his right hand securely inside his pocket. That’s when Zayn raised his hand to put a lock of his inky hair back in place. The word ‘Angel’ was there, written in pretty cursive letters on the back of his right hand.

Shit. Liam stopped on his tracks, swallowing hard.

“What you staring at, loser?” Percy, a jock that used to bully Liam, said from the side, snapping Liam’s attention to him.

Zayn looked at Percy when he said that, and then turned his face to Liam.

“Nothing,” Liam said, lowering his head and pushed out of the class. Percy tripped him, but, fortunately, he didn’t fall.

Last year, the headmaster had accepted his excuses, when he asked him to change the location of his locker to a place close to his office. Liam said it was because he had only one kidney and he needed to have his things closer to the infirmary. The truth was that Percy and his cronies wouldn’t break into a locker by the side of the headmaster’s office and risk being caught. It was the end of him finding trash in his locker. So, after leaving the class, Liam went to his locker.

Only when he raised his hand to pick up his books that he remembered the burning he felt on his hand before, noticing the word ‘Dumb’ on the back his right hand.

“Shit!” he whispered and lowered his hand immediately.

He ran to the restroom and locked himself inside a cubicle and dropped his backpack on the floor. He wanted to cry. Why is this happening to me? What did I do? His eyes filled with tears and he swallowed them down. I can’t cry here. I can’t think about it here. He knew that if he thought about it he would cry, but he needed to do damage control.

He looked down at his hand and analised the imprint. The word was in the middle of the back of his hand, it wasn’t close to any of his fingers, so he couldn’t hide it under one of them. What do I do? He needed to hide it, but didn’t have any bandages on him. He could put his hand inside his pocket, but what about when he needed to use it? How would he write in class? Think, Liam, think! He called you dumb, but you’re not dumb! Think! He could say he was sick, but his mom would get worried and he never wanted to worry her. He looked at a heart drawn on the door and he got an idea.

He sat on the toilet lid and opened his backpack. He picked up his black pen, uncapped it and started to scratch over the word. After he scratched all over it, he noticed that it wasn’t enough. Someone could see the outline of the word if they got close. He had to drip the ink right from the ink chamber. Shit. He used his foot to break the pen in half and fought with the ink chamber to split it up. When he finally split it, some ink splattered on his uniform.

“Fuck!” he mumbled, frustrated. He had the mind to not touch his uniform with his ink covered hand and ruin it more.

He raised his hand and tapped the ink chamber over the imprint on his hand and spread the ink around. It was complicated to open the door of the closet without using his inky finger, but he managed. He discarded the pen and went to the paper towels to dry a little bit, just enough so it wouldn’t drip on the floor. Once he finished, he checked his work, noticing it covered the imprint just right. He washed his fingers carefully to not wash off the ink on the back of his hand. They ended a dark gray, because the ink wouldn’t be washed away with the soap available at his school. He looked at his uniform and sighed when he assessed the splatters on his trousers and shirt. Better like this than people seeing what I have on my hands.

He dried himself up the best he could, testing that the ink didn’t left marks where he touched. I have to bring a pack of band-aids to school. He thought, picking his things up and going to class.

“What happened to you, Liam? Did your pen explode on you?” Lucas, one of Percy’s friends that was in Liam’s History class, asked when Liam entered the classroom.

Some people laughed, but Liam didn’t answer. Zayn was in that class too, and he and his friends laughed with the other classmates, but not as obnoxiously as Percy’s friend. Liam noticed by the corner of his eye when Ant leaned and whispered something on Zayn’s ear. He turned his head and whispered something back. Liam kept his head bowed and sat down on his place, his right hand burning again.

When he got home, he was scrubbing himself in the shower when he saw the other word on his right hand: ‘Pathetic.’

“Fuck!” He punched the wall, frustrated. “Shit! Fuck damned crap!” He wanted to pull his hair, but stopped himself. Why he is my soulmate? Why? And then, he cried. He sat on the floor of the shower and sobbed, the water washing away his tears.

When his tears stopped running down his cheeks, he got up and finished his shower. He went to his bedroom and sat down on his bed. He covered his face and took a deep breath. What do I do? The most sensible course of action would be talking to Zayn, that’s for sure. But how would that go down? ‘Hey, Zayn, I’m your soulmate. See, you called me stupid, dumb and pathetic and look, they’re on my hands!’ He could see how well that would go, really.

He went back to Scholar Google to know how the other cases of offensive soulmate imprints had dealt with the situation. Unfortunately, the articles didn’t breach the subject. They only talked about their traumas and the consequences to the bond between both soulmates.

Liam closed his laptop feeling disheartened and deeply sad.

Everybody talked about their soulmates like they were their best friends, someone they could count on in every situation. Why Liam couldn’t have that? He already didn’t have friends, why he couldn’t have his soulmate liking him? What did he do to the universe to have a life so fucked up?

He didn’t want to talk about that with his mom. She would be so sad… But he didn’t have another person to talk about it with. He didn’t know if he could find a solution alone. For one side, he wanted help, but on the other side, he didn’t want to expose Zayn. My soulmate. He sighed. I can’t talk with her about it. How would she react when me and Zayn get together, knowing he used to say such horrible things about me?

The only solution was to try and change things, without telling anyone about this situation. He needed Zayn to see him as someone worthy of his affection, someone he would be proud to be with. But how?

Fortunately, Zayn’s friends weren’t the ones that bullied Liam. Not directly, at least. Zayn’s friends were the rich kids. Zayn himself wasn’t that rich, but he had the face and the brains to attract the rich ones and be welcomed by them. The main source of his pain in school was Percy and his friends. Liam needed to change that first. No more name calling. No more kicks. No more punches. He needed to stop that. And, after that, he would try to be more popular at school. How? He would work on it after dealing with Percy and his cronies.

And he needed a more effective way to hide the soulmate imprints, because he knew that if he kept using band-aids his mom would get worried, and if he used gloves in the Summer he would be bullied even more. He went back to Google to search a solution. He typed ‘how to hide a tattoo’ and got a lot of links of products made for it. Good! Then, he looked at the prices. Not good. He would need to use all his savings for it, and he was saving money to buy a microphone so he could record his voice at home. I guess it’ll have to wait.

He decided to go buy the product the next day and, meanwhile, he watched all the tutorials he could find, so he would be able to apply the product on himself.

The next day, he didn’t have any classes with Zayn, and that was a blessing. He covered his imprints with band-aids again and kept them hidden from his mom by not eating breakfast. After classes, he went to the makeup store and bought the product to hide his imprints. The girl that worked there looked at him funny, but he didn’t mind. He gave her the money, saying goodbye to his microphone, and went home. He bought the waterproof option, more expensive than the other one.

When he got home, he tested the products and they were perfect. Which was good, because it was really expensive. He would have to take it to school every day, so he would be able to hide any word that appeared on him. His dream was Zayn never saying bad things about him anymore, but he wasn’t naive enough to think that it would be this easy. In his experience, when someone started to say bad things about him, they didn’t stop.

And okay, that was really bitter, but Liam was bitter about that situation. He was making plans to change his situation, because he knew that if he didn’t do anything, the situation would be worse. He read about the traumas, about the addictions, about the suicides. He didn’t want that for himself or for Zayn.

The thing was that deep down, Liam knew it wasn’t Zayn’s fault. It wasn’t his fault that he was a part of the popular group and Liam was from the losers. It wasn’t his fault that Liam was bullied and looked stupid at school. It wasn’t his fault that Liam was sick as a kid and had spent most of his life looking funny. But it was his fault every time he said a bad word about you. He thought. He couldn’t be delusional and think Zayn was innocent on that. He just couldn’t.

What he could, and would, do was forgive Zayn for his bad words, and wait for the day he would act on his feelings.

Liam laid down on his bed and closed his eyes. He pictured Zayn smiling, being gentle with him the way he was with his friends. “Perfect,” Liam whispered, and went to sleep.

The next day was uneventful and Liam was glad. He applied the tattoo cover and didn’t worry about it all day.

He finally had thought about a way to stop the bullying. When he got home after classes, he talked to his dad about wanting to do boxing classes. He said it was for the physical activity, but Geoff knew the real reason. He was only glad that Liam decided it for himself. It wasn’t news what Liam suffered at school and, even though Geoff would be against violence in any other situation, he always wanted Liam to take action to confront his bullies.

Liam started boxing the next day, three times a week, and he started working out as well. He used to run since he was a kid, because it helped his health condition. So, when the Cross Country team of his school started that year’s tryouts the next week, Liam decided to join. Being an athlete will help me to be more popular.

To be fairly honest, Liam didn’t think we would get a position in the Cross Country team, but he would be damned if he didn’t give it his best. Well, he got it. What now?

“We have practice four times a week. Here’s our schedule,” Paul, the coach, said, pushing a calendar in his hands.

“Thanks, coach,” Liam said, smiling.

“It’s no surprise you got in the team. We made you practice a lot on running,” Percy, who was at the bleachers, said when Liam went to the locker room.

“Stop this right now, Andrews,” the coach said, firmly. “I won’t accept you disrupting my practice. Don’t you have class? Get out of here.”

Percy got up, snickering, and went to his class.

“Thanks, coach,” Liam said, again.

“Just don’t disappoint me, Payne,” he said.

“I won’t.”

–

Later on, Liam would blame his excitement for joining the Cross Country team for not checking his hands after his shower. When he was leaving school, Percy held his arm roughly and pulled his hand up. Liam didn’t react quickly enough.

“Oh my fucking god, Liam! Your soulmate called you pathetic?” he hollered at the top of his voice in the middle of the corridor full of his classmates. “And you were trying to hide it with makeup?” he laughed obnoxiously, bending his body and holding his belly with the force of his laughter.

Liam was so completely devastated by shame, that his only reaction was to run, his left hand burning and making him want to scream. He ran all the way back home and went to his bedroom, locking himself up. He dropped his backpack on the floor and looked at his hand. There it was, with the product he wore to cover it rubbed off by his shower and Percy’s hand. He wanted to sue the company that made the product, because they said it was waterproof, but then, he looked at the other words and the product was intact on the ‘STUPID’ and the ‘Dumb’, so probably he didn’t applied it correctly with his left hand.

“Shit,” he whispered and sat on his bed, crying. He didn’t know for how much time he cried, but, once his sobs were in a low volume, he raised his head to assess his situation. He picked up the makeup remover to clean his hand and saw the last addition to his soulmate imprints: Loser. On his left hand.

He went back to crying convulsively. Why me? Why?

After what happened that day, Liam needed to tell his parents. He couldn’t go back to that school. The situation was bad enough before that, now it would get unbearable. So, he cleaned his hands completely and went downstairs when he heard his father come home.

His instinct was to cover his hands when he entered the kitchen where his mom and dad were, but he stopped himself. He sat on a chair at the table and kept his hands on his thighs, hidden.

“Mom, dad, I need to talk to you.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but it cracked a bit at the end. His parents turned to him, one hundred percent alert after the way he sounded.

“What happened, sweetheart?” his mom asked, seating on a chair by his side. His father sat on his other side and looked at him, waiting for his answer.

“See…” Liam cleared his throat. “I found my soulmate,” he whispered.

“You don’t look happy about it, lad,” Geoff said.

Liam took a deep breath and put both his hands on the table, palms down, so they could see why he wasn’t happy.

Karen gasped and covered her mouth.

“Who are they?” Geoff asked. It was clear he wanted to take the matter in his hands.

“They don’t know it’s me,” Liam said, voice low.

“Who are they?” Geoff repeated, harshly.

“I can’t tell,” Liam whispered.

“Of course you can tell. You must tell. We need to speak to them so they will stop doing that!” Geoff said.

Liam heard a sniff by his side and turned to see his mom crying. “That’s why you asked about it the other day?”

“Yeah. Sorry, mom,” he said, bowing his head.

“I'm sorry, baby,” she said, hugging him.

“We need to talk to that person, Liam. We need to do it fast,” his father pressed.

“I won’t tell, dad. Don’t insist,” Liam said, firmly.

“You can’t expect me to not do anything about it, Liam!” Geoff said.

“And you can’t expect me to tell on my soulmate!” Liam said, and his father blinked, finally understanding.

“We need to do something, baby,” Karen said, leaning back, but keeping her arms around him. “You have to tell them.”

“I can’t mom. And today something awful happened…” Liam started to talk.

“Besides this?” his father asked, pointing at his hands sadly.

“Yeah, besides this. I tried the Cross Country team and I got a place in it,” he said and his parents keep quiet, because, if it was something awful, it wasn’t the Cross Country team. “I applied makeup to cover the imprints,” he sounded ashamed.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Karen mumbled, but Liam kept going.

“I washed off some of the makeup in the shower. Someone saw it and shouted to the whole school to hear and just. I can’t go back there, dad. Mom, I can’t. How can I look my classmates in the face? I’m already the laughing stock of the class, now it’s gonna be worse than ever. If my own soulmate called me these things, do you think the bullies won’t feel free to be even nastier?”

“Son, the year just started,” Geoff started.

“Exactly! I can change schools without losing much. Please, dad, please. I beg you. I can’t go back in there.” He turned to his mom, his eyes brimming with tears. “Mom, please. I just can’t.”

“Baby…”

“I promise I’ll work hard. My grades will be better than ever. I promise. Just, please, take me out of there.” A tear slid down his face and his mom nodded.

“Karen,” Geoff said.

“No, Geoff. Our boy is in pain. I won’t let this keep on happening,” Karen said, with finality, and Liam breathed, relieved.

His mom went to his school in the morning, to do the paperwork. If it was for her, Liam would never go back to that place, but he wanted to talk with coach Higgins. That’s why he was there. He got there just before the end of the classes and hid in the restroom. He left the cubicle he was in only after the bell rung and all of the noise of the students going home died down. He looked carefully to both sides before leaving the bathroom, going out only after he was sure that no one was around.

He went to coach Higgins office, close to the school’s gym. Higgins was leaving the office when Liam was arriving there.

“Payne. You missed practice today,” Paul said.

“I’m sorry, sir. I came here to talk about that,” Liam said, head bowed.

Paul looked at him critically for some moments, and opened the door of his office. “Get in there.” Liam entered the office and stood awkwardly close to the door. “Sit,” Paul said, pointing to a chair and sitting on his.

Liam sat and looked quickly at the coach and turned his eyes down again.

“I dunno if you know what happened yesterday after the tryouts…”

“I do know. Unfortunately, the gossip is stronger than my desire to know about the personal lives of my pupils,” Paul said. He didn’t sound judgmental.

“Well, yeah. So. Hm. About that. I’m leaving the school. I mean. I’m going to another one, far away from here,” he said and added quickly: “And I wanna say I’m sorry, sir.”

“Sorry for what, boy?”

“For disappointing you,” Liam mumbled.

“Look at me, boy,” Paul said, firmly, and Liam looked at him. “You’re not disappointing me. You’re taking care of yourself. I can’t judge that.”

Liam smiled a bit, nodding. “Thanks, sir.”

“You’re welcome. Take care.” He smiled back at Liam.

“Okay. Bye.” Liam waved and left the coach’s office.

When he turned a corner, someone grabbed him by his neck in a headlock. “Liam! How are you? Why didn’t you come to school today?” Percy’s annoying voice rang in his ears and Liam twisted his body to get him off.

He had just two weeks at boxing, not enough to be really fit to get a professional punch, but he was too angry to allow Percy to beat him up again. He held Percy’s forearm and bit him with all his might, making him scream in pain and let go.

“You fucker! I’m gonna end you!” Percy spat and charged on Liam.

Liam jumped to the side to dodge his shoulders and turned back, jumping with his elbow ready on Percy’s back. Percy moaned and stepped back, turning towards Liam and raising his hands to punch him.

The surprise of Liam’s counterattack made Percy slower.  Liam took the opportunity and punched his nose with years of frustration piled up in his heart, the last humiliation fresh and bleeding. He heard a crunch and Percy’s wail, hands covering his nose. He kicked Percy’s shin for good measure and ran away. His luck was that Percy was alone. If he wasn’t, Liam would be a pulp right now.

“Goodbye, Percy,” Liam said when he closed his home’s door, smiling. His hand was hurting, but his soul was avenged.

The next day his boxing instructor scolded him for fighting outside the ring, but didn’t suspended him after Liam telling the reason why he fought. But, even if Liam had been suspended, it was worth it.

When he got home, his mom showed him a letter of recommendation that coach Higgins made for him to give to the Cross Country coach in his next school. He couldn’t be more grateful.

The next day was a Friday, and his mom would go to the other school to arrange his in-year transfer. They chose a school at the opposite side of the town, just to be safe. His mom convinced him to go to a counselor too. He didn’t wanted to go, but, after reading about the consequences of the other soulmates that dealt with the same situation, he accepted her suggestion.

He would start in the new school the next Monday and he needed an action plan. He decided he would keep wearing the makeup on his hands. And he would cut his hair. He needed a new start and he would get one.

–

“And what about your soulmate, sweetheart? What’ll you do?” His mom asked him on Sunday night. He was sporting a buzzcut and browsing through his new school website.

“Fate will bring us together, mom,” he said, sounding very mature, but dying inside.

“It will, love, but wouldn’t it be better if you helped it?” she asked, kindly.

“Not really, mom. Please, don’t push me,” he pleaded and she stopped.

That night, he did some stalking on Zayn’s Social Media and saved one of his pictures on his phone. It was a pretty one, with Zayn smiling, looking to the camera. Liam went to bed with his phone in hand, looking at Zayn’s face.

“Beautiful.”

–

The next day, he went to his new school. He needed to wake up half an hour before what he was used to, and take a bus to get there, but he didn’t complain. After all, he asked for it.

His soulmate imprints were carefully covered by his mother before he left home. He accepted her help, because he knew she wanted to make him feel better, but he knew he needed to learn how to apply it alone. And he would.

The first day at his new school was uneventful - fortunately. He took the letter of recommendation to the coach, who insisted that he called him coach Paddy, and gave him a place in the Cross Country team without tryouts. It looked like he was good friends with coach Higgins.

On Tuesday, his first class was English. He got there first and went to the back of the classroom. When the bell rang, the class filled with his classmates and a boy with dyed hair sat by his side.

“Hey, you’re new here! I’m Niall,” he said, with an Irish accent and a big smile.

“Liam,” he said, smiling to the Irish boy. “And yeah, I’m new.”

“Great! I was new last year, I know the feeling. I’ll show you around after class, what do you think?” he offered.

“I’d love to,” Liam said, and that was how he met his first best friend.

–

Liam kept going to the counselor. At the end, he noticed it was indeed the best thing he did. She helped him make peace with his feelings. Together they worked through the deep sadness, the insecurities and the bruised self-esteem, turning them into cuts that existed, but didn’t bleed anymore.

He let his hair grow and stopped straightening it, letting it fall in dark blond curls around his face. He was feeling better - not good, yet, but he hoped he would get there - and that was okay.

That day, he was going to take his next step: show his soulmate imprints to his best friend.

Liam cleaned his hands, wore gloves and waited for Niall in his bedroom. He thought so much about how to tell him of his situation. But, in the end, he just said he needed to show Niall something and simply took off his gloves.

Niall stared at his hands for some time, seemingly in a loss of words.

“He doesn’t know I am his soulmate,” Liam felt the need to fill the silence.

“He is the stupid, pathetic, dumb and loser one,” Niall said, with ferocity, still looking at Liam’s hands.

“No, Ni–” he started to say, and Niall looked at his face.

“Stop it. Stop right there.” He pointed a finger in Liam’s direction. “I understand that he’s your soulmate, but accept that you can love a dumbass. He is a dumbass.”

“C’mon, man,” Liam tried again, only to be interrupted once more.

“Put yourself in my place, Liam. How would you react if my hands were covered in shit?”

Liam sighed and nodded. “Okay.”

It’s better than pity, I guess.

–

Time passed by in the blink of an eye, and soon it was the next year and Liam was getting ready for the Olympics tryouts. He was one of the best at Cross Country in all of England, and he couldn’t believe his luck.

“It’s not luck. You worked our ass to the ground to get where you’re at. Stop saying it’s luck,” Niall said, hitting him on the top of his head.

“I agree,” Harry said, munching his apple by their side.

He was part of their small group of friends, which included Andy and Maz as well. Through Niall, Liam had made friends at his new school. He never forgot what used to happened in his previous school, but the boys made him feel accepted, which was a blessing.

He had uncovered his hands to the school two months ago. Before that, he had shown his imprints to each friend one at a time, with Niall’s help. Even though he could see on their faces that they hated it, none of the boys gave him trouble about it. They helped him deal with the other schoolmates. To be honest, it was way better than he expected. There was no laughing - at least not to his face. Some of his schoolmates told him they were sorry, some others told him it was his soulmate’s loss, and some of them even asked him out.

Now, the offensive soulmate imprints were old gossip, no one bat an eye at it - and Liam was glad.

They were at the place where his tryouts would happen the next day, learning the ins and outs to be prepared. Liam had covered his hands with makeup again, not wanting any drama to influence his focus. An interviewer for the local TV came to talk with him, asking for an interview. He was shy, but agreed. She asked a bit about his training, and he told her how it was. Then, she asked how he was feeling and his expectations for the next day.

“I’m so happy to be here, my cheeks hurt ‘cause I can’t stop smiling. I hope for the best, but being here is already a privilege,” he said.

The interviewer thanked him and went away.

“Attaboy! My Payno is famous now!” Niall said, ruffling his hair.

“Fuck off,” Liam said, pushing him away and laughing.

When he got home, he wondered if Zayn would watch his interview. If he did, he would know where Liam was and what he was doing. He got a bit scared, imagining him telling his friends about it, but then, Zayn never bullied him, really. He was just popular while Liam was the opposite. He laughed when everyone was laughing and repeated what everyone was saying.

But then, the first time he called me something bad was without real reason. Liam thought, remembering the bump and the way Zayn reacted. His counselor told him that, probably, Zayn was having a bad day and that added up to his mood. Liam thought that it made sense, and decided not to think about that anymore.

Liam forgave him.

Every night he whispered something about Zayn. Beautiful, perfect, cute, smart, lovely, angel, I love you. The list was long. He wanted to know if a new imprint appeared every time he said the same thing. Did Zayn have a lot of ‘Angel’ imprints?

He hoped that Zayn watched his interview and was glad by where he was now.

His interview aired that night. His father recorded it, proud of what Liam had achieved. The news hadn’t even ended, when Liam felt a burn in his left hand. His heart beat skyrocketed, recognizing the burning for what it was: Zayn probably watched his interview and said something about him.

He looked to his hand and a cold shiver went through his body. ‘Try-hard’. He blinked, feeling like that wasn’t happening to him for real, it was like he was outside his body, watching everything happen in third person. An emptiness swallowed him whole.

“Liam?” his mom called him and he saw himself looking up. “What happened, baby?” she asked, worried and going to his side, wiping his tear streaked face.

He felt a pain so acute in his chest, an ugly and wounded sound escaping his lips in a desperate sob. Only then he snapped and felt himself in his body again. It was like all the hard work he did with his counselor was worth nothing. He was trembling, crying convulsively on his mom’s shoulder.

“Baby, please, tell me what happened,” she pleaded and he raised his arm - that weighed a ton - to show her. “Oh, lord.”

She hugged him tightly, pressing his face to her bosom, mumbling comforting words. Soon, he felt his dad’s hand in his hair, caressing softly and adding his loving words. When Liam stopped crying, his body was hurting all over, trembling, and he felt limp, like he had been beaten to a pulp.

The next day, he didn’t pass the tryouts.

–

Liam was nervous. He hadn’t been back at his old school for two years. After the debacle at his Olympics tryouts, he quit the Cross Country team. Niall convinced him to try for the school rugby team. He insisted so much that Liam caved. In the end, he was selected to the rugby team. His team was having a great season playing against the other schools, and now, he was at his old school, getting ready to play against them.

He had thought about covering his imprints, but it would be ridiculous. Everyone in his old school knew about it, anyway. He decided to show his imprints. He wasn’t ashamed of them anymore, but it was hard to be back and face Percy and his cronies in the field. He was concentrating in the game, trying not to think about Zayn. Zayn used to watch the games, but Liam decided he would look only on the side where his schoolmates were. He didn’t truly believe he would keep that decision, and would scan the crowd to find Zayn and see him in the distance, but he doubted Zayn would recognize him. He was wearing the buzzcut again, and hoped it was enough to blend in with his teammates.

He was seated in one of the locker room benches, surrounded by his teammates, when Zayn entered. He felt all his blood drain from his body, a slight tremble starting on his hands. Liam bowed his head quickly, trying to hide.

“Hello,” Zayn said, a bit shyly. “I’m Zayn. I work at the school news website. May I ask a few questions?” he added, very politely.

“Liam can talk with you,” Andy, the captain of the team, said. Liam always spoke for the team; he was articulated and knew how to say things without spilling their secrets.

Shit! Liam thought and swallowed. I can do this. He breathed deeply and raised his head, looking at Zayn dead in the eye. Liam saw the moment Zayn recognized him, because he looked quickly to his hands and averted his gaze. Liam got up and came closer to them.

“Sure, Andy. How can I help you?” he said the last part to Zayn, his voice sounding hollow, but polite enough.

Zayn seemed a bit awkward, looking a bit up at Liam. Yeah, that was new, too. Liam now was taller than Zayn and way bulkier. Zayn looked delicate close to him, and he wanted nothing more than to hug him.

“Hm,” Zayn cleared his throat, pulling his phone from his pocket. Liam noticed that his hands were covered with loving words. His loving words. “May I record the interview?”

“Go ahead,” Liam said, putting his hands on his hips.

“Okay.” Zayn fumbled a bit with his phone, and then asked. “What are your expectations for today’s game?” he asked and looked at Liam’s hands.

“We expect a good game. Will be tough, both teams had worked hard, so we can’t guess the final score as of now,” he answered.

Zayn was staring at his hands, so Liam decided he could stare as his too. It wasn’t as if Liam didn’t know how Zayn’s hands looked. He stalked him on his social medias and saw every picture Zayn posted of each new soulmate imprint that showed up on his hands. Liam had them saved on his computer at home. He saved the captions too: “Where are you?”, “How can I miss someone I don’t even know?”, “When will we finally meet?”.

“Anything else?” Liam asked, when Zayn kept quiet after his answer.

Zayn snapped his eyes up. “Sorry, uh…” He fumbled a bit more with his phone. “What kind of tactics do you intend to use?”

Liam smiled. “Sorry, I can’t answer that. You didn’t expect me to, did you?” he said, in a flirting tone.

Zayn chuckled. “I had to try at least.”

“Sure you did.” Liam winked and Zayn’s eyes turned down to his hands.

“Is it finished?” Andy asked, curt, putting an arm around Liam’s shoulders. Maz came closer to them, looking at Zayn warily.

“Yeah, it is,” Zayn said, pocketing his phone. “Thank you. Bye.” And he left the locker room.

“He was staring at your hands. I don’t like him,” Andy said.

“Don’t worry, man. Everybody stares,” Liam said, dismissively.

“But he was staring too much. Will everyone here act like this about your imprints?” Andy asked, knowing what Liam had suffered through at this school.

“Maybe, yeah. But don’t worry. Let’s make them think they can put me down because of it,” Liam said, intent on not letting this influence on his game. He feared Zayn would said something mean about him in the middle of the game, but decided he wouldn’t let this bring him down.

“Yeah, let them. They don’t know how fierce you are,” Andy said, punching Liam’s shoulder.

“Yeah, fuck them,” Maz said, and Andy nodded.

“Yeah. They don’t know me anymore,” Liam agreed, getting ready to kick some asses.

When the team went to the field, Liam was ready to be taunted and mocked, and Percy didn’t disappointed him.

“How do you feel when not even your soulmate likes you?” Percy asked in the middle of the field, trying to tackle Liam. Andy came from his left and tackled him, clearing the path to Liam.

Liam heard Andy say “Shut the fuck up, you asshole.���

In the end, Liam’s team won, and they cheered loudly. Niall and Harry jumped to the field to celebrate with his friends. They went to the lockers and Zayn went too, to make another interview. This time, Andy answered the questions, and Liam was only grateful.

Their coach left them to talk to the coach of the other school, while the boys took their showers. Liam finished his shower and walked with a towel around his waist to pick up his clothes. He put his boxers on under the towel and took if off, dropping it on the bench. He turned around to pick up his shoes and noticed Zayn was still there, hand raised holding his phone, but staring at Liam. He averted his gaze when Liam caught him and looked at Andy.

Liam sighed and dressed himself quickly, leaving the locker room. Niall and Harry told him they’d be waiting for him close to the school’s exit. He left the locker room and had walked halfway towards the exit, when Percy and his cronies surrounded him.

“You must be very happy, Liam,” Percy said.

“About the victory? I am,” Liam said, calmly.

“I didn’t forget what you did the last time I saw you,” he spat.

“Me neither. And I see you still can’t hold your ground alone, you still need your friends to hold who you want to beat up,” Liam said, looking at Lucas and Vincent, who were even bigger than when he studied there.

“Is something happening here?” a man’s voice called, and Percy stepped back.

“Nothing is happening, coach Malik,” Percy said. Liam looked startled at the man who had arrived with his coach. He was tall and bulky, with dark skin and shiny black hair. Liam could see in his face the resemblance with Zayn and recognized him from some pictures on Zayn’s social media.

“I’m not stupid, boy. I saw you bullying this kid at the game. You’re suspended from the team.”

“Coach Malik–” Percy and his friends started to protest but when coach Malik raised his hand, they stopped.

“You know the rules and you were warned. I won’t tolerate such shameful behavior. Go to my office,” he said, firmly, and the boys went away mumbling.

The man turned to Liam and introduced himself. “Yaser Malik. How are you, boy?” he said, extending his hand for a handshake.

Liam shook his hand, smiling slightly. “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m fine. You?” he answered, feeling shy when he noticed Yaser taking a look at his hands. Fortunately, he didn’t ask about it and didn’t stare.

“I’m fine. Were those boys giving you trouble?” he asked.

“They were. They used to bully me when I studied here,” Liam answered truthfully. He expected him to dismiss what he said, but he frowned instead.

“So they thought they would go back to their old ways,” Yaser said, annoyed.

“Probably.” Liam shrugged.

“Liam here is our best player,” coach Paddy said, squeezing Liam’s shoulder and making him blush. “We’ll let you go now. Be careful, yeah?” coach Paddy said, and Liam nodded, turning to the exit.

When he got outside the school to meet his friends, Niall asked what had happened as soon as he saw Liam’s face.

“My ex-bullies rounded me,” he said and Niall’s face turned dark.

“Where are they? Did they do anything to you?” Niall asked, ready to go hunt them down and beat them up.

“They tried, but were caught before they could do anything. Now they’re in the coach’s office, getting a suspension from the team,” Liam answered, laughing.

“Oh boy, I would like to see that,” Harry said.

“Me too,” Niall agreed, laughing.

His father took him and his friends to dinner in a nice restaurant to celebrate the victory. Liam was happy about the victory, but was sad for himself. He saw Zayn and he was even prettier than in his pictures. His soulmate imprints looked so good on his hands, like tattoos created by an artist. Stalking Zayn made him learn some things about soulmate imprints. It only worked if the words were spoken and if the person was saying it aloud. He discovered the last bit when Zayn put an “I love you” as caption to a picture of his hand and it never appeared on his hand. He sighed and decided to stop thinking about it, because his mom was already sending worried looks in his direction.

Later, Liam was at home, laying in bed and watching a movie on his laptop, when he felt his left hand burn. He went static, scared to look at his hand. What did he say about me now? Surely nothing bad? We almost didn’t talk in that interview. He thought, looking at the wall behind his laptop screen without seeing anything. Please, don’t be anything bad. Please… He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking down.

‘I hate you.’

Liam couldn’t breath. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t feel. It was like his last soulmate imprint when he felt like he was floating out of his body seeing everything happening to him, but this time it was worse. He was alone, so alone. His parents had tried to help, his counselor tried to help, but none of them knew how it was like to feel so deeply rejected by the love of his life. It was a pain that cut deep, down into his bones, and left him desperate.

He tried to call his parents, but he couldn’t, his voice wouldn’t work. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breath, his stomach hurt, his heart was physically aching. He wanted to scream, to cry, but simply couldn’t.

Then, he was swallowed by darkness.

He felt a hit on his head and opened his eyes. He was on the floor and the blow he felt was his head hitting the floor. He looked up at the ceiling, shaking. He never felt worse in his life, and was sure he would never feel any more worse than this. He hit rock bottom and he couldn’t see a way up.

My soulmate hates me.

–

Zayn didn’t like these parties, but Louis had been trying to make him go out for some time now, and he didn’t want to make him feel like Zayn didn’t appreciate his company. He owed Louis a lot to make some sacrifices for him. And it would be a sacrifice to stay at a party with shitty music, shitty beer and shitty people.

As soon as he got inside the house where Louis told him to go, he got a joint pushed into one of his hands and a beer in the other. That’s better. He thought, sitting on a couch and looking around, recognizing some faces, but none of them caught his interest.

After he graduated and left high school, Ant and Danny went to college in another city, leaving only Louis close to home. Zayn wanted to be close to his family, and the Uni at the next city had a great English program, so he went there. Louis was there too, though he was studying drama, so he wouldn’t be alone. He didn’t even need to live there, he could get a train and be there everyday for classes and get back at night.

This party, though, was boring as hell. Louis appeared from somewhere and pulled Zayn down to the basement. The place was foggy with smoke from the blunts and people were drinking beer right from the keg. Zayn sat on another couch, between Louis and Danny, Ant sat on the floor. Their friends were having the time of their lives, but Zayn only wanted to plug in his earphones and listen to some of his music.

Maybe it was the smoke where they were, maybe it was the high. But they only noticed the fire when it was already licking the stairs - their only way out. Everyone started to panic, but Louis got his phone out, calling the Fire Department.

“They’re already on their way here,” he said, after the call. “Let’s cover our faces.” he pulled his t-shirt and tied it around his head, covering his nose and locking the door to try to block the fire.

“We need to make a way through the smoke to get out!” Zayn said, shouting to be heard over the screams of the people around them and taking his t-shirt off. “Look!” He pointed at the small windows close to the ceiling of the basement.

“No! The air can feed the the fire!” Danny shouted.

“The fire will burn all our oxygen!” Zayn shouted back.

They were on that debate when they heard the sound of glass breaking and someone kicking the dregs of the window down.

“Come here, take my hand!” a male voice called from outside the window, and they went over there to help push people out of the basement. Zayn was one of the last to be pulled out from there, and, at this point, his eyes were red and teary because of the smoke.

There was a commotion outside the house, a firetruck was parked in front of it with a lot of people scattered around. Zayn took off his t-shirt from his face while being pushed to go to an ambulance. He was blinking repeatedly to clear his vision, when something fell from the second floor, blowing a thick cloud of ashes on Zayn’s face, making him cough.

He didn’t even notice when he was pushed inside an ambulance to be attended by a paramedic. Once he got a hold of his bearings, he noticed all the movement around the house.

“They got everyone out from there?” Zayn asked the paramedic, his voice rough. She nodded while checking his vitals. “I need to know where my friends are.”

“They must be okay. We didn’t have any fatalities,” she said.

“I need to find them, though, we were together,” he said, worried about his friends.

“Wait a minute, I’ll finish soon.”

“Okay,” he accepted that and waited.

When she finished the first aid, she let him look for Louis, Ant and Danny. Although not before making him promise that he would be back to go to the hospital with the others to check his lungs.

He found Louis not far from there, with his face blackened by ashes. He guessed he himself wasn’t much better. Louis was talking to a fireman, gesticulating wildly.

“Hey, Louis,” Zayn said, coming closer. “You okay?”

Louis turned and pulled him into a hug.

“I’m good. You?” Louis asked.

“I’m good too. Where’s Ant and Danny?” he asked inside the hug.

Louis let him go and answered. “They took them to the hospital, because they inhaled too much smoke,” he said, making a face.

“Shit, man…” Zayn mumbled.

“Yeah. I was talking with Liam here, answering some questions,” Louis said and Zayn tensed when he heard that name. It was an instinctive reaction. A stupid one at that, because not every Liam was Liam Payne. And Liam was quite a common name.

Zayn turned to the fireman and there was Liam Payne in a fireman uniform. He swallowed hard.

“You’re a fireman,” Zayn said, dumbly.

“Obviously,” Louis said, rolling his eyes while Liam only nodded, with his lips pressed in a tight line.

“Are you okay?” Liam asked Zayn, with a professional tone, and he felt shy all of a sudden.

Liam was bigger than the last time he saw him - and last time he was already big. He wasn’t that much taller than him, but he was bulkier under his uniform. Zayn bit his lower lip, tasting some of the ash that was on his face. He was looking ridiculous, shirtless, all covered in ash and saying stupid things.

“I’m good, yeah,” Zayn finally answered, his eyes going to Liam’s hands instinctively.

They were clean. Zayn’s eyes widened a little, his heartbeat speeding up. He felt an elbow on his ribs and snapped his eyes up to Louis’ face.

“I’m glad,” Liam said, but didn’t look the part. “I’ll leave you two now.” He left without a second word.

“Did you know staring is impolite?” Louis asked, pinching his arm roughly.

“Hey! I wasn’t staring,” Zayn said, feebly.

“You were.”

“You never defended him before,” Zayn bit back. “On the contrary, actually.”

“Yeah, well, he helped save our asses from being roasted. Forgive me for not wanting to be rude,” Louis pointed.

“I wasn’t being rude!”

“You were! You almost asked him if he found his soulmate or if he was hiding his imprints again!” Louis said, exasperated.

“Was not,” Zayn mumbled, but he knew that what Louis said was true.

Louis huffed and put an arm around Zayn’s shoulder. “Let’s go to the hospital to see the boys and check our lungs.”

“Yeah,” Zayn agreed, looking around, trying to find Liam again.

It was very upsetting to see Liam after so much time. He remember the last time he saw him at the school game.  Liam was very handsome - Zayn always thought Liam was handsome, but never said it out loud. His friends didn’t like to mingle with Liam, because he could make them look bad. Zayn didn’t have anything against Liam, but his friends prefered to keep their distance.

Even though they kept their distance, Zayn always had a soft spot for Liam. He had always been so nice and polite to everyone. And his smile is too cute. But sometimes he needed to join their friends on the comments, so they wouldn’t think he liked Liam. See, Zayn wasn’t rich nor white nor christian. He was lucky that these boys welcomed him into their group and protected him from the bullies. He couldn’t go against the status quo. If he did anything, he could lose his friends, and he couldn’t handle that. He would be scorned and bullied too, and he had the opportunity to not live with that, so he chose to keep being loyal to his friends.

They weren’t bullies. Not really. They were just a bit silly sometimes. They knew Zayn was quiet, but he needed to add something to their conversations. If they were calling anyone stupid or ridiculous, he would join them. The thing is that he always felt bad when he said something like that about Liam. Probably because Liam had such a beautiful mind and soul, and it was disheartening to say bad things about him. But then he said bad things and just had to deal with the guilt that came after.

He was relieved when Liam left the school. That way he didn’t need to talk about him anymore. His friends didn’t talk about him, because he wasn’t important, so Zayn was free from the guilt for some time. That was until Liam appeared on TV because he had a chance to go to the Olympics. He was so endearing in the interview, but his friends watched and said he was trying too hard to please the interviewer. Ant pushed him, so it was impossible not to say anything.

Then, one year later, Liam was back at his school as a rugby player.

It was impossible not to stare at his hands. Zayn felt so sorry for this boy. He was so nice and cute - and hot as hell, as he could see when he left the showers. He wanted to hold Liam’s hands and kiss them, tell him he was sorry his soulmate had said those things about him. That day he was sure he had developed a crush on Liam. Even in the back of his mind, he never stopped thinking about him.

That night, Zayn was looking for him on the internet, but hadn’t found any of his social media. He didn’t know if Liam didn’t have any or if he was blocked - which was possible after he changed schools. Zayn was distracted with the website of Liam’s new school, when his dad entered his bedroom to talk about Liam.

Zayn didn’t even know his dad had met Liam, but, by the looks of it, he had met Liam and had noticed his soulmate imprints. His dad asked if he knew Liam, because his coach had said Liam had studied in Zayn’s school. He answered yes and his dad proceeded to praise Liam like he was the best person on earth.

“That boy, Payne, such a strong soul. He turned a bad thing into his strength,” Yaser said.

Zayn had always tried to make his father proud. His father was a sportsman, he was bulky and strong. Zayn was the opposite. It’s not that Zayn was weak, because he wasn’t. He was just never  good in any sport. And he tried. The only thing he was good at was English and Art, which was not what his dad valued most.

He sat there and listened to his dad praise Liam for being a sportsman, for showing his soulmate imprints without shame and his head held high. Zayn could see the pride his dad had for Liam, for that strange boy that could do everything he never could. So, Zayn got jealous.

When his father left his room, Zayn turned back to his search, if only to find faults in Liam so he could tell his father later. The only thing he found, besides the article about his Olympics tryouts, was one made by Liam's school newspaper that had an interview with him about rugby. The article was clearly made by someone unprofessional. At the end, they described him with the phrase “so cute, but with a soulmate so toxic” when they didn’t even ask about it in the interview.

When Zayn couldn’t find any of Liam’s social medias, he got really frustrated and blurted that he hated him. As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt really bad and promised himself he would never say a thing about Liam again. He didn’t deserve any of that. Not at all.

And today he discovered Liam was a fireman and was saved by his team. The world is a really strange place.

–

Liam didn’t go to the flat he shared with Niall that night. He went straight to his parents’ house and woke his parents up. He had learnt the last time he saw Zayn to not trust his emotional stability when it comes to his soulmate.

“Liam? What happened, baby?” his mom asked, sitting up, bleary eyed. Geoff was getting up too by her side.

“I saw my soulmate today,” Liam said and his parents went one hundred percent alert. “I’m sorry, I just need to be here,” he said, ashamed.

“No, baby, don’t be sorry,” Karen said, getting up and hugging him.

“I was thinking if maybe I could sleep here with you? Just like, to be safe,” he mumbled the last words.

“Of course, son,” Geoff said. He wasn’t bothered by the fact that his grown up son was asking to sleep with them. “You can sleep here between us,” he said, pulling the covers.

“I’m so sorry, mom, dad…” Liam mumbled again, crawling the bed and lying between them. It was a tight squeeze, but he didn’t mind it at all. He needed his parents with him right now.

“Your mom already said to not be sorry, son. We’ll feel better with you here, anyway,” his dad assured him.

“Okay,” Liam whispered and closed his eyes.

He felt the covers being placed over him, but he didn’t know who did it. His parents laid down and turned off the bed lamp.

“Do you want to talk about it, babe?” Karen asked, touching his head softly.

“I saw my soulmate today in a fire,” Liam said, with his eyes closed tight. He heard Karen gasp and he said quickly: “It’s okay, didn’t burn anyone, was just a bit of smoke.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, quietly. “Did he say anything to you, baby?”

“Yeah, but just small talk,” Liam answered. “But I wanted to be cautious, so I came here,” he whispered.

“You did right, my love,” his mom said, hugging him tight.

He remember the last time he saw Zayn, what he said after he left his presence. It had hurt so much, that Liam passed out in an anxiety crisis. After he woke up, he sat on the floor with no strength to get up or to call for his parents. He didn’t cry, just trembled and felt a deep pain in his heart. He feared he was having a stroke. His parents found him on the floor the next day in a semi catatonic state.

He spent weeks trembling. On the months after it, he got cold shivers every time he remembered about his last soulmate imprint. He was so fucked up that he tried to carve it out of his hand with a shaver. Thank heavens his mom caught him before he did that madness.

So, Liam had good reasons to be worried about what could happen after their meeting that day.

Liam and his parents didn’t sleep that night. When they got up, Liam’s body was aching for spending the night all tensed up on the bed. He guessed his parents weren’t any better. His mom made breakfast for them, all the while glancing at Liam to see if he was okay.

After breakfast Liam watched a movie with his dad. He only went home at night, because he needed to take a shower and go to work.

–

Liam was a fireman, and small burns were common in his line of work; he was used to it. But after seeing Zayn, he was jittery, looking at his hands from time to time, paying close attention to any burning sensation on them. He got a bit obsessive with the amount of times he removed the makeup off his hands at work and applied it again just to see if the burning was a common burn or a soulmate imprint.

In the second week he stopped doing that at work, only cleaning his hands at home. It wasn’t sensible to risk an anxiety crisis at work and lose his job - one he got after proving he was emotionally stable. He owed his job to his counselor, and he had said so to her as soon as he got a call back from the Fire Department.

On the worst days, Liam locked himself in the bathroom when he was feeling on edge. He plugged the headphones on his phone and used the skin motion app to scan his soundwave tattoo to listen to Zayn saying “You’re beautiful, babe. I love you too.”

Nobody, besides the tattoo artist, knew about the meaning of that tattoo. He told his parents he wanted a creative tattoo of something he loved. They looked at it and concluded it was about music and he let them believe it. The truth was that he discovered soundwave tattoos on the internet; technique in which he could store one minute of audio on his skin and listen to it using an app on his phone. So, he tattooed Zayn saying those phrases.

He got that audio by stealing a video from Ruth’s cellphone. She was close friends with Doniya, Zayn’s sister, and she sent Ruth a video from Eid at their home. It was a cute video with their family reunited, and Zayn was complimenting a small cousin. She said she loved him when he told she was beautiful, and then he answered that he loved her back.

Liam wasn’t proud of stealing her sister’s phone in the middle of the night to save the video. After, he removed the audio and edited it to have only Zayn’s voice. He used to listen to it at night, when he whispered loving words about Zayn - a habit he kept despite all the sadness. A few months later he saw the soundwave tattoos and decided he wanted one of those. He wanted a mark of Zayn saying beautiful things on his skin. Even if it wasn’t directed to him.

Fortunately, nothing new appeared on his skin in a span of a month, and Liam started to relax. But he was a little disappointed as well. It was such an incoherent feeling. From one side, it hurted so much when Zayn said bad things about him. But on the other, at least he was thinking about Liam and having some feelings toward him. Well, Liam thought he said those things because he felt that way, and not without meaning it. Why would he say something like that if he didn’t feel like that? It didn’t make sense.

So, yeah, Liam was disappointed when nothing appeared. It was a sign that Zayn wasn’t thinking about him. But then again, he didn’t know if he could deal with an offensive word appearing on his hand after he was in the team that helped to save Zayn’s life. It was all for the better. He just had to wait for fate to make them meet again.

Liam went back to his routine of go to work, go to college, go back home and hang out with Niall. It was a soothing routine, because he enjoyed all those things. He loved his work and loved his course, because he was studying to get a Fire & Rescue degree. He wanted to enhance his expertise at work - and get a better pay, of course.

It was a Wednesday and he was at work. There was a small fire in a department store, and he went there to prevent it from spreading further. He was wearing his gloves, but felt a warmth on his right hand. He tapped the glove to see if it had a tear from where some heat could enter, but he didn’t find any. It didn’t burn and it was a small fire, so he wasn’t worried of being burned. It was just a bit strange. He didn’t find any rips, though, so he shrugged it off.

Later, he was back at the station and felt his left hand get warm too. It didn’t burn, though, so he didn’t think too much about it.

He spent all morning having a warm tingly feeling in his hands. He probably burned them with hot smoke, not real fire. Maybe there was a first degree burn. Nothing to worry about, though. It didn’t hurt at all, it was like he had spread some camphor-menthol balm on his hands. The warmth was even comforting after he feared the acute burn from the soulmate imprints since he saw Zayn six weeks ago.

In the afternoon his hands stopped feeling warm and Liam forgot about it until it was night and he was in class. The warmth was back on his hands and he frowned a bit. He rubbed at his hands softly, because he didn’t want to take off the make up. After so many years using them, he learnt that he didn’t need a special tattoo cover to put on his hands. Some good waterproof concealer and foundation were enough to cover his imprints. He only needed to retouch it twice a day.

When he got home he went to take a shower to wash off the grime of the day. Before that, he picked up a waterproof makeup remover to take the makeup off of his hands. He was standing naked in front of the mirror, and used a cotton swab to start the process of removing the makeup plaster off his hands. He always started from the outside to the inside of the hand. It turned into a mechanical action, he didn’t even focus on the words on his hands anymore. That is, until he saw one new in his hand.

“What is this?” he got nervous, trying to remember if he felt any soulmate imprint burn that day, but he didn’t.

He picked up a clean swab and poured the remover straight over his hand, rubbing the swab fiercely to uncover that thing that was on his hand.

His breath gushed out of his lungs in a rush when he finally had it uncovered:

‘Dream.’

His legs gave out and he held himself up quickly on the sink, dropping to the side on the toilet and staring at his hand. He blinked, thinking it was a hallucination and that word would disappear. It didn’t. It stayed there, in pretty cursive letters, like a neon sign blinding him. Liam was trembling, his breath puffing from his chest in painful, relieved gushes. His heart was beating so fast that he thought he was going to pass out.

“Oh my God…” Liam whispered unsteadily, touching his skin to feel if it was real. “My love…” he said, the tears sliding freely on his face. “Why did it take you so long, my dearest?” He felt like Zayn could hear him, caressing his own skin like it was Zayn’s.

He sniffed, looking at the word ‘Dream’, not wanting to clean the rest of his hands so he wouldn’t see the other imprints, the offensive ones. He sighed, knowing it was silly to not clean it all. He got another swab and put remover on it, returning to his cleaning with trembling hands.

He had cleaned the ‘STUPID’, when he noticed another dark line a bit to its side. His heart, that was still beating fast, picked up speed. Oh, god, what is it? He got so anxious that he picked up a sponge from the cabinet under the sink and drenched it with remover to scrub it all off.

‘Sensible.’

‘Hard worker.’

‘Strong.’

‘Nice.’

His breath was coming in shallow gasps, the trembling was intensified and he was sweating. He changed hands to do the same on his right hand, drenching the sponge with remover again and rubbing with all his might.

‘Handsome.’

‘Cute.’

‘Hot.’

‘Incredible.’

‘Brave.’

Liam was crying convulsively in the bathroom, his body jerking with each sob, his heart hurting with so much feelings.

“Liam!” Niall called him, knocking on the door. “Are you alright, mate?” he sounded worried, but Liam couldn’t answer. The only sounds that left his mouth were ugly sobs, produced by such a deep, long awaited relief, that it hurted all over. “What the fuck is happening? Liam?” Niall tried again, but Liam only could produce a loud whine. “I’m gonna get in! I don’t care if you’re naked!” Niall said and kicked the door open.

In two steps he was by Liam’s side, kneeling on the floor.

“What happened, Liam? Talk to me,” Niall said, scared because he never saw Liam like this. He knew it was an anxiety crisis, but he didn’t know what triggered it, and he didn’t know how to help.

Liam was clutching the sponge, makeup remover mixed with concealer and foundation dripping down his legs. His breathing was wheezing and he was trembling like a leaf. He couldn’t talk, so he just raised his hands for Niall to see.

Niall felt his heart sink when he noticed Liam raising his hands, his mind going to all the shit Liam’s soulmate had said about him. Then, he looked down and raised his eyebrows.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe the fucker stopped being a cunt!” he hollered, hugging Liam tight.

Liam couldn’t believe it either. He weeped on Niall’s shoulder, with no strength to hug him back, but feeling more grounded in his arms. Niall talked with him in his familiar and exuberant way, happy because Liam’s soulmate had figured it out.

“I’m so happy for you, mate,” Niall said, kissing Liam’s cheek after he stopped crying.

Liam could only nod, his vocal chords not working properly yet.

“Want help to take your shower?” he offered and Liam denied. Probably, if it was his mom offering, he would accept, but he wouldn’t impose on Niall. “Okay, I’ll stay here just as a precaution, yeah?”

Liam accepted that. Nial helped him to get up and go into the shower. Liam body was hurting all over, but, this time, it was a good pain.

–

That day, in the morning, Zayn went to his classes like every other day, only to discover his professor sent an email canceling the class and he didn’t see it. He still had his afternoon class, so it was better to wait at his Uni city than to go back home and come back later. He sent Louis a message asking where he was and got an answer saying he was at home. Zayn went to see Louis and hang out while he waited for his afternoon class.

They played some Fifa and talked shit, until Louis got hungry and went to get some snacks in the kitchen. He got back with a big pack of chips in his hands, and turned the TV on, looking for something to watch while they ate. He stopped briefly on a channel reporting a fire in a department store, and that got Zayn’s attention.

“Hey, let me see this,” Zayn asked.

The reporters were talking with some people around the store, observing the firemen working from a safe distance.

“Do you think Liam is there?” Louis asked the question Zayn was making internally, and stuffed his mouth with chips.

“Dunno, maybe,” Zayn answered, shrugging slightly. “He looked too serious on that fire,” he commented, remembering Liam’s face. “Like, in a no nonsense way.”

“He’s a fireman in a fire. What did you expect?” Louis said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I mean, he looked more serious than when he studied with us,” Zayn said. He hadn’t stop thinking about Liam since the day of the fire. He wanted to know how Liam was after that so long. He wanted to know if he had found his soulmate. If he was happy. If he was available. Though the last part he wasn’t so sure why he wanted to know.

“You’re comparing a grown ass fireman at work with a school boy, Zainie,” Louis pointed.

“I know, but it’s not like this. I mean. He knew you, us. He was acting like he didn’t know us at all,” Zayn shrugged.

“Maybe it was because we were never friends,” Louis said.

“Yeah,” Zayn said, taking a chip and breaking it into small bits. That was something that always bothered him. They weren’t friends, but he never knew exactly why, he just went with the flow. “Why were we never friends, again?” he asked.

“Just different social groups, I guess. And Liam was boring at the time. If he had all the muscle he has now, we sure would looked at him in a different light,” Louis said, seeming unrepentant.

“Sure you would,” Zayn said, bitterly.

“What? You wanted to be friends with him at school?” Louis asked, bemused.

Zayn thought about how to answer to that, but decided he wasn’t a scared school kid anymore, and answered. “I did, yeah. He’s nice.”

“You never told us that,” Louis pointed.

“Yeah. He’s a sensible guy, always was. I thought you guys wouldn’t appreciate his company. I was scared you wouldn’t want to be my friends if I wanted to be his friend,” Zayn admitted. He gave Louis some credit for not denying it. “I regret it sometimes.”

“Not being friends with him?” Louis asked, still bemused.

“Yeah, like,” Zayn tried to explain himself. “He was always so nice? And he was such a hard worker…”

“You were a hard worker too,” Louis still didn’t understand where Zayn was coming from.

“Yeah, I am. But,” Zayn stopped talking and looked at his hands, covered with loving words. “I felt so bad for him when his soulmate imprint appeared and Percy saw it.”

“I felt pity too. Poor lad. He didn’t deserve that,” Louis said.

Zayn remembered the day Percy humiliated Liam. It was very hard not to jump to his defense. Then, Liam disappeared from school and never came back, and Zayn felt disappointed. He know he didn’t have the right to be disappointed, because Liam didn’t owe anything to him, but he felt that way nonetheless. That’s why he was petty and added his opinion about Liam leaving school when his friends talked about it.

He remember the first interaction they had. Zayn had had a very shitty day with everything going wrong. The screen of his cellphone had broken when he dropped it trying to turn off the alarm, he missed the bus and had to run all the way to school, and he had stumbled on a rock and hurt his toe. When Liam slammed into him in the corridor, he spilled the first angry thing that came to mind and stormed off. Only after, when he was calm, he realized how rude he acted.

He was such a shit person.

“He didn’t deserve that,” Zayn said, agreeing with Louis and admonishing himself. “He was cute. I guess,” he said, adding the last part and shrugging. He was trying not to let on how much it had bothered him at the time.

“You think he was cute? Why did I never know that?” Louis was surprised.

“I didn’t feel comfortable saying that,” Zayn answered. “And when he came back to that rugby game he was really hot.”

“What?” Louis almost shouted.

“Yeah, I saw him half-naked in the locker room,” Zayn said, smiling a little with the memory. “He was hot and very handsome, with that buzzcut.”

“I can’t believe you crushed on boring Liam all this time,” Louis said, teasing. “But then, I can see it now. He looked really hot in the fireman uniform.

“Yeah, he did,” Zayn laughed a bit, but  sobered quickly. “I admire his will, you know. Like, I look at my hands and I can’t imagine how I would feel if my soulmate called me names. He dealt with it and overcame it. He is really strong.”

“I’ll be honest and agree with you. I would be too fucked up if my soulmate said shit about me. I would never be able to be a fireman,” Louis said.

“You’re not able to be a fireman in any way, Lou,” Zayn teased.

“Fuck you very much!” Louis shouted, throwing chips at his face.

–

That night, when Zayn went home after classes, he brought his laptop to his bed and started to browse his social media. His mind was still on the conversation he had with Louis earlier. He wanted to know if Liam had any social media as of now. He had tried to find him from time to time, searching for his name and surname, but hadn’t found anything. Now, he would try his sister’s profile first. He went to Ruth’s page and asked her to add him to her friends list.

She was quick to accept him, and he smiled. He went to check if her friends list was unlocked and, fortunately, it was. She had a lot of friends, so he decided to search for Liam on the search bar. He typed in “Liam”, and the search came up with two results. None of them was the Liam he was looking for. He tried her family page, but she only had a cousin. He decided to search for his surname. That search came with thirty-five results, and he started to look through them one by one. Again, none of them was Liam.

Zayn would have to check all her friends to see if any profile picture was Liam’s. Then, he thought that, if Liam had a social media, maybe he had the habit to like his sister’s posts. It was just a hunch, and he wasn’t hoping too much. He started with her pictures. There were too many likes and he sighed. He went back to her friends list, knowing that checking the likes on every post would take more time than checking her friends list.

He started to look at her list of 3,892 friends, disheartened. He was just over 500 friends when he saw a batman logo as a profile picture. The name was J Payno. That caught his interest. He clicked on the profile and some pictures were unblocked. There he was: Liam in a group of friends. Zayn zoomed in on the picture and realized it was from one of his firemen mates. The picture was taken at a pub. Liam was in the back, with a small smile on his full lips. Zayn looked at the people close to him to see if any of them looked like a date, but none of them did. He browsed some more, finding some pictures of him with kids, some babies, some with his family. All of the unblocked pictures were from his friends and family, the pictures posted by Liam on his profile were blocked.

Zayn wanted to send a friend request to get access to Liam’s private pictures, but he backed down at the last second. He didn’t know why he stopped, though. It wasn’t like they were enemies, but something held him back. Probably, the fact that they weren’t friends as well.

Now that he had the name J Payno, he searched for it on Google and got a result for Instagram. He clicked on it and it was a private account. Zayn sighed and looked for the people Liam followed that followed him back. He found Andy Samuels. Zayn remembered him from the rugby game. His Instagram was open and Zayn looked to see if he would find any pictures of Liam. He was lucky. There was a lot of Liam’s pictures on Andy’s Instagram.

Zayn’s attention was caught by a series of pictures from a barbecue day. There was a lot of pictures of Liam. Liam with a Batman apron, close to the grill. Liam with friends and family. Liam with puppies ― something that made Zayn smile. Liam shirtless and wet inside a pool. Wow. Zayn sat there, looking at Liam’s abs for some time, almost drooling. He remembered when he had a glance of Liam’s body at the rugby game. He had only gotten better, muscle rippling on his abs, chest and arms. Shit.

From there, he went to Ruth’s Instagram and found some pictures of Liam as a kid. He was really cute and endearing. His mom was tagged in one of the pictures and Zayn clicked on it to see her profile.

He was bombarded by a lot of newspaper cuts on her Instagram. All of them about Liam’s work. Some of them was about Liam himself, with pictures of him in his uniform. Some were about his team and some of their missions. All of them, though, were about how brave he was. I already realized that. Zayn thought, feeling strangely proud of Liam.

“Incredible,” Zayn whispered, when he saw a cut with a picture of Liam dangling from a roof with a small girl in his arms. “So brave…” He smiled, admiring Liam’s strength and determination.

He kept scrolling, finding more pictures, but not from Liam’s work. Just random moments at home. Liam sat on a couch with his dad, his arm around the older man, a sweet smile to the camera. Him with his nephew in his arms, the child looking at him with adoring eyes.

There was a blond guy that were in a lot of Liam’s family pictures but Zayn didn’t know who he was. He was curious, because Liam always was by his side in the pictures and Zayn felt a pang of worry in his belly. He didn’t know why he felt that way. Liam wasn’t his, and for all Zayn knew, he could have found his soulmate already.

Even though he knew Liam wasn’t his, Zayn searched for some tag of that blond guy, until he found: Niall Horan.

On Niall’s Instagram he found a lot more pictures of Liam ― and some videos too. There was a lot of dork pictures of them using filters, pouting, Dubsmashes… They were clearly very close, but Zayn couldn’t make sure if they were boyfriends.

Is he Liam’s soulmate? Zayn asked himself, a little angry for the offending soulmate imprints. He remembered seeing them at the rugby game. It wasn’t only one word, there were a lot of words, and Liam showed them so bravely. If Niall was Liam’s soulmate, Zayn imagined he deeply regretted every mean word he said about Liam. He wasn’t any of those things, and that must have hurt a lot.

But then, if they were soulmates, Zayn could only understand Niall changing his ways. Liam was awesome. He had overcome the bullying from his classmates ― and from his soulmate, at that ― and became a great person.

“He’s a dream,” Zayn mumbled, before closing his laptop and going to sleep.

–

Liam spent the next day in a bit of an anxious state. He wanted to show his parents the new imprints, but at the same time, he didn’t want to do that. Everytime he showed his soulmate imprints before, he felt like he was exposing Zayn. His counselor told him that it was necessary. His soulmate would deal with the consequences of his acts when they finally got together, whether Liam wanted to spare him or not. It was tough on Liam, because, while his instincts told him to take care of his soulmate, he needed to take care of himself as well. And his parents worried so much… He didn’t have the heart to hide from them the ― apparent ― change in Zayn’s heart.

Liam went to his parents house when he left college that day. His imprints were covered by makeup, as usual. He kissed his parents like he did every other day he went there, and then asked for a makeup remover.

“What happened, sweetheart?” Karen asked, catching up with the unusual request, clearly worried.

“Nothing bad, mom, don’t worry,” he said, smiling slightly, but without any real mirth in his eyes.

Liam’s feelings were so mixed. From one side, he was so relieved for Zayn saying those things about him. From the other, he didn’t feel happy, actually. It was like he spent so much time suffering because of it, that he simply couldn’t allow himself to be happy and then get disappointed. When he first saw the new imprints, he had such an emotional outburst, but now he couldn’t feel the happiness he thought he should feel. It felt tainted, like his hands were tainted by Zayn’s harsh words.

And Zayn could have lied too. What if he was talking to someone who liked Liam and he felt obligated to say those things? Why would he feel obligated to say I’m a dream, though? He didn’t have the answer to that, but didn’t want to get his hopes up too high.

Anyway, Liam needed to show his parents. That wasn’t open to discussion, really, even though he wanted to hide it forever. So, when Ruth brought a makeup remover for him, he cleaned his hands in front of them.  

“Oh my god! The asshole stopped being an asshole!” Ruth hollered as soon as the first loving imprint appeared. Karen mumbled a half-hearted ‘Language’ for Ruth’s swearing, but it was without real intent. Ruth hugged Liam tight by the neck, and he smiled.

Liam looked up to see his mom covering her mouth, looking at his hands, crying silently. His dad’s eyes were brimming with tears too, the sappy old man.

“I’m so happy for you, baby,” his mom said, hugging him from the other side, overlapping Ruth’s arms.

“I’m happy too, son. It took they so long, but finally they figured it out,” his dad said, kissing his cheek and caressing his hair.

Liam nodded, looking down at his hands. He was still cleaning them.

“Oh, fuck, they decided to make up for the lost time, yeah?” Ruth giggled, looking at all the complimenting words on Liam’s hands.

“I– I think so,” Liam stuttered, feeling shy.

“I’m so happy for you, mate,” Ruth kissed Liam’s cheek, leaning back to give him room to breath.

“Thanks, Roo,” Liam said, finishing with the remover.

“Are you happy, baby?” his mom asked, looking emotional and bemused with his reaction.

“I am, yeah,” Liam said, but without much enthusiasm. “I’m still processing everything, you know… It was so sudden,” he amended.

“I understand, baby,” Karen said, and Liam wanted to say No, you don’t , but he didn’t. Liam just nodded.

“Will you tell us who they are?” his dad asked, but didn’t really push.

“Not now, dad. I mean… I think we need to solve everything between us first.” Liam tried to put all his conviction into his words.

“Don’t worry about it, son,” Geoff said. “It will be alright soon.”

“It will,” Ruth said, smiling kindly.

“I think you should talk with them, baby,” Karen said. “Your soulmate is ready for you, now.”

The question is, am I ready for him? Liam thought.

“I’ll talk with my soulmate, mom. Don’t worry,” Liam said, even though he knew it was impossible for her not to worry.

“When will you talk to them?” she pressed. “You shouldn’t wait for too long, baby.”

“I know, mom. Don’t worry,” he said, but he wanted to add I know, he can change his mind again.

“But now you have to tell me everything about these imprints!” Ruth said, excited. “When they appeared, how was it?” Liam smiled and started to tell them about how it happened all throughout the day and he only saw them at night.

It was too late for dinner, but his mom gave him food anyway and they chatted until he had to go.

He didn’t plan on looking for Zayn. He just couldn’t be the one to reach out. Not right now ― maybe never. Liam went to bed planning to not talk to Zayn anytime soon.

–

The next day, Liam kept up his routine of covering his imprints with makeup. That night, he was at college when he felt the same warmth from the other day, but on his right hand. His breath caught in his throat and he excused himself, leaving the classroom.

When he told Ruth about his last soulmate imprints, and spoke about it not hurting, his parents were bemused. They said their imprints never hurt, they only felt warm in a comforting way. Liam never told anybody that when his imprints appeared they burned in a painful way. He just assumed it was the same way for everyone. So, now Liam was sure that the feeling of warmth in his hands the other day was because of the new imprints.

He got into the restroom and pulled a makeup wipe from his pocked, cleaning his right hand quickly. He breathed out a trembling gush of air when he saw what was new: ‘Jaan.’

Liam had to hold himself up on the sink again. He knew what that word meant. He learnt about Zayn’s culture throughout the years, understanding his roots and appreciating them. Jaan was something you only said to someone you care deeply about. It was then that Liam’s excitement died. Zayn could be his soulmate, but he couldn’t care for Liam enough to call him Jaan. They didn’t even know each other. At least Liam had his answer now: it was all a lie. But the reason why, he couldn’t tell.

Liam covered everything up again and went back to his class, feeling sad and exhausted.

CHAPTER 2 (or read on AO3)

[steponwolf]

revision, impromptu

Fred Moten

with David Rothenberg, Nicola Hein, George Lewis, Dafna Naphtali, Andrew Drury, Tanya Kalmanovich, Hans Tammen, Sarah Weaver, David Grubbs, and Ally-Jane Grossan Logistics sounds like a work song. The bottom anticipates and tills and then it’s time to turn over. This limbned, uncoordinated independence is anagnostic. Flesh touches. I am because we are is some bullshit. I ain’t because we share air lore, more notes on Auto da Fé’s blacking of the presence of an absence. The abyss between frames, that dehiscence, indicates this refusal either to fuse or choose between tearing and binding, a careful preservation of wounding. The whole fade in a shuffle it projects and prepares, a soufflé of angles, a palimpsest of snares and rides, some continually hidden h, a heft of air, a thievish shift carnival, a tufted shear, a shhhh of whirr and bookfan. We wear a fan of books, page over other kissing inside lip to disappear into another outside in coming into view. We all come from nothing to hard tone row and that cool move, chafing against the new phasis of the history of displacement, sound like it got a three on it to me. Blackness is the revelation of that which makes a people uncertain, unclear and awry in its action and knowledge. I think I been thinking ‘bout that for ‘bout thirty years, Krupa become Krupskaya having lost their aura, but when I get a chance I ask Scott La Rock why I start to think and then I sink into the paper like I was ink, like I was a Chinese painter in the hold of the beholding. The zero degree is what he says; she says nothing in reply, a festival, irreparable. The age of quantum mechanical reproduction is giving tune away to rise. Collaborate elaboration, William. Infinite consanguinity, Dumbo. Fleeta Drum came with us, brought something with him, brought a swing with her to fold the document. Can improvisation be documented? Has it ever been? Lemme ask Scott when I see him—see if improvisation can be revised. Scott, can improvisation be revised? That’s an arctic jazz question, regarding whales and, further inland, elephants, and saxophone kids, non-expert users, autodidactic squirrels in task decomposition. Is there an analogy between improvisation and optimization, affirmation and ingardenation on improvisational gardening? What’s the Greek word for “reading”? Which is the point of all this rub and cyclone, when the eye falls into plenitude in a series of caressive abuse and kisses, oikopolitics and storms, good and bad time weather in a tore up propagation of clicks, which is when I realized you’d prepared the back of our throat for a speech about the tragic ship, the interminable line to it and the endless line from it, woodskin, wind’s skin, wound and drumbone, bowed, time to stay, string, till poise come back for poise, for our unsupported method and post-sculptural stuttering and non-purposive black massive hymn and sold, celebratory subcanadian scotchplain, plummets of bird patterning, the scotchirish hazarding of north ideas, habitually prenational birds, field recordings of syncrudescent birds flew down to tailing in the good and bad time weather, bird in the collective head of mama’nem at the blues university, Clyde’n’mama’nem and her and ask and think a digital conference of the birds, viola, ‘cause music is the fruit of love and earth and nobody gon’ buy it anyway, for there is nothing lost, that may be found in these findings, by these foundlings, driving ‘round vising and revisiting in the inescapable history of not being you. Our name is unnameable in this regard and miles ahead, feeling what you can’t see all incompletely. The half-fullness of your glasses makes you wanna make the word go away but you do have a capacity for massage that gives me hope. In the delicate evening software, I can understand Russell Westbrook. It’s ulmeric, oliveirian, in its unfirewalled all over the placelessness. We gig everywhere and it just makes me wanna giggle, or holler at you from way over here, party over there, if you can wait, we being behind the beat a little bit but right at the beguining, gynomonastically basic and maternal earth tones all out from the tone world, deep in the bass loom, twilight weaving morning in La Jolla/moonlight in Vermont someplace, some folks parking, some just getting dressed, everybody waiting with everybody for right now in right there, party over here. Well moled, old Grubbs! We all here in the ruins but we got something in our hands—an experimental bandcamp for news and flowers. And I appreciate y’all letting me sit in, being so far from virtuosity. I wanna be communicable from way back. I wanna be in your base community, grace abounding to the chief of sinners. Remember that song by the Spinners called “Sadie”? The one on Spinners Live! where he reverted—that contrapulsive, not just knee-deep conversioning he got caught up in? Soul Wynne was sewing that night. It was like he had a drum in his chest, just to let you know that nothing lasts forever. The improvisation of forgetting is redactive flow everyday with all these voices in our head. These are always revising herself. One said they told us to be Germanic so, with great surprise, we took a picture of your tech with yourself, our constraint, and it was undecidable between us but plantational, since we the police of different voices, to be your instrument in this sovereign fade. Go back and look at it again when we fade a little bit, when invention won’t let us come up on it from behind. I don’t know my own stuff well enough to mix it right now, but we been remixing it all along past the everyday fade. Mama’nem are the different voices in your head. Are you gon’ play me now? I wanna be played with you. I wanna be down with you. My code voice is Stanley Clarke, rajautomatic mixive for the people’s quartet, no way to control it, can’t caul it, won’t be covered, some uncoverable cuvée, girl, some prekripkean cupcake, causally unnameable as that Krupa keep coming back, tense but casually anafrican. Scott says the Greek word for reading is writing. It could be, I don’t know. I’m undecidable between us but you can ring my bell. The night is young and full of possibilities, the only trace of which, when I go back, is how I sound for you from one diffusion to another, as if the room were our hijab, as if we were a roomful of people writing about Cecil Taylor, as if writing about Cecil were reading James Cone, as if I were Sharon Cone’s escort to Cecil’s going home, as if we were the temporary contemporary—air above mountains, buildings in our hands.

[surrendertodaniel]

Surrender To Daniel’s Top 250 Tracks Of 2017ish (Just The List, Please)

It’s a busy world out there and you could do with a version of this list without all the jackass commentary.��Below are my Top 250 Tracks of 2017ish in countdown form. Thanks for hanging out. I look forward to listening to your list.

250. Kelly Clarkson - Love So Soft (Cash Cash Remix)

249. Trinidad Cardona - Jennifer

248. Arcade Fire - Electric Blue

247. Valerie June - Shakedown

246. Rozwell Fitzroy - Block Game

245. Fickle Friends - Hard To Be Myself

244. Katy Perry featuring Migos - Bon Appetit

243. Chip - Snap Snap

242. Borussia - Kinda Love

241. Lady Gaga - The Cure

240. Sonamoo - I (Knew It)

239. Taylor Swift - …Ready For It

238. Joyride - Aunty Tracey’s Cookies

237. Carly Pearce - Every Little Thing

236. Eves Karydas - There For You

235. Vic Mensa featuring Pusha T - OMG

234. Tigertown - Warriors (St. Lucia Remix)

233. Lady Leshurr - Juice

232. Frank Ocean - Chanel

231. DYGL - Let It Out

230. Old Dominion - No Such Thing As A Broken Heart

229. Super Junior - Black Suit

228. Barenaked Ladies & The Persuasions - The Old Apartment

227. Ayo & Teo - Lit Right Now

226. LCD Soundsystem - Tonite

225. Pip Blom - Babies Are A Lie

224. Shay Lia - What’s Your Problem

223. Lauren Alaina - Doin’ Fine

222. Jachary - Yellow Vision

221. Cende - Bed

220. Waju featuring Phantom Thrett - If U Wanna

219. AOBeats & Annabel Jones - Strangers

218. CupcakKe - Barcodes

217. Aly & AJ - Take Me

216. Tyler, The Creator featuring A$AP Rocky - Who Dat Boy

215. Joe Goddard - Music Is The Answer

214. Gabrielle - Nye Joggesko

213. Amber Coffman - No Coffee

212. Diamond Platnumz, Harmonize, Rich Mavoko & Rayvanny – Zilipendwa

211. Ugly God - Fuck Ugly God

210. Royal Canoe featuring Begonia - Fussin’

209. Ah Mer Ah Su - Meg Ryan

208. Wesley Gonzalez - Piece of Mind

207. Smino - Anita

206. Hannah Jane Lewis - Raincheck

205. Mollie King - Hair Down

204. Ten Fé - Twist Your Arm

203. Charlie Worsham - Cut Your Groove

202. iLoveMakonnen featuring Rae Sremmurd - Love

201. Allison Crutchfield - I Don’t Ever Wanna Leave California

200. Drezus - Get Up

199. Aimee Mann - Patient Zero

198. Fekky x Ghetts - Call Me Again

197. Slow Dancer - Don’t Believe

196. Kiesza - Dearly Beloved

195. Cam’ron - 10,000 Miles

194. Paul Heaton & Jacqui Abbott - I Gotta Praise

193. THANKS featuring Sam Sparro - Your Man

192. Desiigner- Outlet

191. Maya Killtron - Whiplash

190. Maty Noyes - Say It To My Face

189. Tee Grizzley featuring Lil’ Yachty - From The D To The A

188. Bhad Bhabie - These Heaux

187. Sean Nicolas Savage - Opposing Truths

186. 2 Chainz - Trap Check

185. Evening Glow - Love Tonight

184. Liv Dawson - Searching

183. Bruno Mars - Versace On The Floor

182. Paramore - Hard Times

181. Ghost Twin - Plastic Ghost

180. Lao Ra featuring Konshens - Boby Bounce

179. SOB X RBE - Lane Changing

178. PIXEY - Hometown

177. Feltworth - Forget This Feeling

176. Twice - Likey

175. Craig Finn - God In Chicago

174. Axolotes Mexicanos - Trececatorce

173. Charli XCX - Boys

172. Lil Uzi Vert - XO Tour Llif3

171. Steven Wilson - Permanating

170. Promiseland - Take Down The House

169. Estrons - Strobe Lights

168. Future Islands - Ran

167. Shamir - Straight Boy

166. St. Vincent - Los Ageless

165. Maluma - Felices los 4

164. John Maus - Touchdown

163. Sharon Needles - Battle Axe

162. Stormzy - 4PM In London

161. Adult Mom - Full Screen

160. Luke Combs - When It Rains

159. HAIM - Want You Back

158. RVIVR - The Tide

157. Torres - Helen In The Woods

156. Partner - Play The Field

155. Manuel Turizo - Una Lady Como Tú

154. The Moonlandingz featuring Rebecca Lucy Taylor - The Strangle Of Anna

153. April - Mayday

152. A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie - Drowning

151. Cassius - Ibifornia (Myd Remix)

150. Kyary Pamyu Pamyu - Harajuku Iyahoi

149. Goodbye Honolulu - Typical

148. Electric Six - I’ll Be In Touch

147. DJ Khaled featuring Beyoncé and Jay-Z - Shining

146. Sløtface - Empire Records

145. Tank - When We

144. Jerry Williams - I’m Not In Love With You

143. Gothic Tropic - How Life Works

142. Girl Ray - Don’t Go Back To Ten

141. Ski Mask The Slump God - Babywipe

140. Mike WiLL Made-It featuring Big Sean - On The Come Up

139. Pkew Pkew Pkew - Before We Go Out Drinking

138. Brockhampton - Star

137. The Perfect Kiss - Broadcast (From You To Me)

136. Fishbach - Un Autre Que Moi

135. Surfbort - Back To Reaction

134. Highlight - Can Be Better

133. Dagny - Wearing Nothing

132. First Hate - The One

131. Sorority Noise - No Halo

130. Playboi Carti - Magnolia

129. Alex Cameron & Angel Olsen - Stranger’s Kiss

128. Real Numbers - Frank Infatuation

127. Rejjie Snow featuring Pell - Virgo

126. YoungBoy Never Broke Again - Untouchable

125. Kesha - Learn To Let Go

124. LOONA Odd Eye Circle - Girl Front

123. Middle Kids - Never Start

122. Kelela - LMK

121. Hey Violet - Break My Heart

120. Sean Paul featuring Dua Lipa - No Lie

119. Papooz - Trampoline

118. Lab Coast - Back To Your Future

117. Mise en Scene - Waster

116. Weaves - Walkaway

115. Aymee Nuviola - Rumba de la Buena

114. Plaitum - Ovation

113. New Swears - Dance With The Devil

112. The Regrettes - Seashore

111. Kane Strang - My Smile Is Extinct

110. Red Velvet - Red Flavor

109. Lovely Bad Things - Hiding to Nothing

108. Century Palm - King of John Street

107. Jessie Reyez - Gatekeeper

106. Jay Som - Baybee

105. YBN Nahmir - Rubbin’ Off The Paint

104. Milk Teeth - Owning Your Okayness

103. Bakermat featuring Kiesza - Don’t Want You Back

102. Jimmie Allen - Blue Jean Baby

101. FAUX - Take Back Time

100. Joey Bada$$ - Land of the Free

99. Tove Styrke - Mistakes

98. A$AP Ferg - Plain Jane

97. Astrid S - Such A Boy

96. Wax Idols - Everybody Gets What They Want

95. DeJ Loaf - No Fear

94. Hamell On Trial - Safe

93. Tay-K - The Race

92. Fazerdaze - Lucky

91. Jax Jones featuring Demi Lovato & Stefflon Don - Instruction

90. Jon Pardi - Heartache on the Dancefloor

89. Heart Attack Man - Taking Sides

88. RaeLynn - Lonely Call

87. Young Guv - Traumatic

86. Baka Not Nice - Live Up To My Name

85. John Moreland - It Don’t Suit Me (Like Before)

84. Lil Yachty - Bring It Back

83. The Drums - Blood Under My Belt

82. Amaal Mallik - Maine Tujhko Dekha

81. Jillian Jacqueline - Hate Me

80. Lizzo - Water Me

79. Joy Again - Kim

78. Yaeji - Last Breath

77. Daniela Spalla - Prometí

76. Peach Pit - Seventeen

75. Baio - Man of the World

74. Rostam - Bike Dream

73. Juiceboxxx - Freaking Out

72. Mabel - Begging

71. Bleachers - I Miss Those Days

70. The Killers - The Man

69. Dude York - Love Is

68. Pale Waves - There’s A Honey

67. TYSM - Honeymoon Phase

66. Artificial Pleasure - All I Got

65. Tei Shi - Keep Running

64. vivienxo - TTYN

63. Lanikai - Motor Inn

62. Midland - Drinkin’ Problem

61. Sam Coffey & The Iron Lungs - Talk 2 Her

60. Thundercat featuring Michael McDonald & Kenny Loggins - Show You The Way

59. Rozwell Kid - Wendy’s Trash Can

58. Jazz Cartier - Tempted

57. BØRNS - Faded Heart

56. Sigrid - Don’t Kill My Vibe

55. Leikeli47 - 2nd Fiddle

54. QTY - Rodeo

53. The Big Moon - Formidable

52. Kenshi Yonezu - Peace Sign

51. Ski Mask The Slump God - Catch Me Outside

50. Sampha - (No One Knows Me) Like The Piano

49. Danny L Harle - 1UL

48. Sälen - Heartbreak Diet

47. Iron Chic - My Best Friend (Is A Nihilist)

46. Phoenix - J Boy

45. Carly Rae Jepsen - Cut To The Feeling

44. Mozart’s Sister - Moment 2 Moment

43. Peter Perrett - An Epic Story

42. Miguel featuring Travis Scott - Sky Walker

41. Demi Lovato - Sorry Not Sorry

40. Cathedrals - Try to Fight

39. Janitor Scum & The Scums - Shopping Cart

38. ARY - Childhood Dreams

37. HMLTD - To The Door

36. KWAYE - Little Ones

35. Fitness Forever - Canadian Ranger

34. The Cornshed Sisters - The Message

33. BETSY - Little White Lies

32. Rae Morris - Do It

31. The Steves - I Feel Like Dying

30. Future featuring Kendrick Lamar - Mask Off (Remix)

29. Rita Ora - Anywhere

28. Needles//Pins - Miracle

27. Dream Wife - Fire

26. Ralph - Tease** **

25. Hall N Nash - Machine Gun Black

24. Pixx - I Bow Down

23. Starley - Call On Me (Ryan Riback Remix)

22. Dave x J Hus - Samantha

21. Charlotte OC - Shell

20. Slow Leaves - Enough About Me

19. PRETTYMUCH - Would You Mind

18. Kendrick Lamar - Humble

17. Amber Mark featuring Mia Mark - Monsoon

16. Denzel Curry - This Life

15. Breakfast Muff - RU a Feminist

14. Deem Spencer - Soap

13. ionnalee - Samaritan

12. Pristin - Wee Woo

11. Quay Dash - Decline Him

10. Confidence Man - Boyfriend (Repeat)

9. Dance Movie - Penny

8. Clairmont The Second - The Ave In You

7. MUNA - I Know A Place

6. Tierra Whack - Mumbo Jumbo

5. IU - Last Night Story

4. Tove Lo - Disco Tits

3. IU featuring G-Dragon - Palette

2. Dua Lipa - New Rules

1. Lorde - Green Light