#for real I am strongly considering going there alone this weekend after meeting up with some friends

[cultivating-wildflowers]

mutuals and friends, I am taking you on a road trip to my favorite trail. we're gonna lay in the moss. we're gonna crane our heads back and listen to the wind in the hemlocks. we're gonna stand barefoot in the ice-cold, cedar-sweetened creek. there are no bugs but there are plenty of mushrooms. and then we're getting coney dogs and ice cream.

[combat-wombatus]

Crimson Snow

Pairing: Hawks (Takami Keigo) x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst :’) (a lil bit of fluff thrown in here and there)

Warnings: mentions of blood, character death. 

WC: 7.8k. am i sorry? no.

Summary: Childhood friends doesn’t always equal lovers in the future. You wished that was the case, but ever since Keigo disappeared, you found it hard to believe in love again. 

(A/N): this was. i had to write this. it wasn’t up for debate. finishing this at 4am in the morning aldksjfhajshd. spent a grant total of 2 days brainstorming & writing this fic. not proofread at all. heavily inspired by the song 小幸运 by Hebe Tien. i strongly suggest you give it a try and listen to it as you read this :p (for all my chinese speakers out there...let’s see how you deal with this heartbreak :’) so yeah. i’m actually...really really proud of this fic. i tried a new format with this, and i think i kinda like it. also i left the ending up to interpretation if you don’t read the epilogue. enjoy! 

credit for this au goes to @wafflesandkruge​

here’s the link to the music :)

The one constant in your life.

The boy who’d always been there for you, through the dark days and the cold nights, holding your hand through it all.

The one who’d held you when you broke down.

The one who’d tucked you under his wings as the skies crackled with energy, rain pouring from the heavens, and told you that no matter where you went, he’d stay with you. He’d keep you nice and dry, snuggled close to his body as he shielded you from the storm.

The one constant in your life.

He’d left quietly in the night, not stopping by to say farewell.

In his place, he’d left a lonesome letter, tucked away beneath a boulder on your special hill.

“I’ll come back for you. Wait for me, okay?”

And from within that plain white envelope, a single red feather floated out, carried on the autumn winds, drifting aimlessly.

Almost as if it were lost.

And in that moment, you felt as if you’d lost a part of yourself, a little piece of your soul.

You weren’t sure you were ever going to get it back.

Years passed. You waited. There was no sign of him

Not in the skies, not on the land, and even though you’d sometimes see him in the reflection of the water, sitting next to you as you told him about your day, he wasn’t really there either.

I won’t give up on him.

I’ll stay strong.

He told me he’d come back for me.

Against the test of time, your resolve never withered. It only grew, strong as steel, taking over the crevices in your heart where he’d left his mark.

I’ll wait for you, Kei.

But please…come back to me.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Your friend called out enthusiastically from her position on the couch. “Come look!”

“What?” You stepped out of the kitchen, only to be greeted by a familiar face, smirking on the TV screen.

“Look at him! He’s this new hero, and he’s only 18! (Y/N)! He’s our age! Isn’t he hot?” She pointed at his flickering image. “His hero name is Hawks!” Squealing, she turned to you. “Isn’t that so cool?”

You stood in shock, the glass of water that you had been holding slipped from your fingers and shattered onto the floor. Liquid pooled around your feet, soaking your slippers, but you made no move to step aside.

“Woah! (Y/N), are you okay?” She jumped off the couch, rushing towards you. “Hey, (Y/N)? He’s cute and all but…this is a little bit much, isn’t it?” She looked at you with concern, eyebrows drawing tighter when you didn’t respond.

“(Y/N) …what’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Shaking yourself from your daze, you averted your eyes. “Ahh, I’m sorry. Uh…I just, I never thought I’d see him again.”

“Wait, you know him?” Your friend looked at you, surprised. “(Y/N) …did he do something to you?” She asked softly. “If he did, I don’t care how cute he is, I’m gonna kick his ass to high heaven if need be. Someone like that shouldn’t be a hero.”

You shook your head, chuckling a little. “No…no, there’s no need to do that. It’s just…it’s been a long time, and I just didn’t expect to see him.”

“Ahh. Well, step out of that puddle! Come on, let’s grab you some paper towels.”

Hey!

It’s me, (Y/N). I…I saw you on TV today. You look…different. In a good way, I suppose. You’ve bulked up a bit.

You never used to smile like that though. Not like…like you were smiling for others. Seeing you smile for the camera, well…it made me sad.

But I’m happy that you’re ok. I think it would probably be hard for you to find me, since obviously I’m not on the news. So I’ll come find you instead, yeah? What do you say we catch up sometime?

I miss you. I’m in college now. I’m doing pretty good. You’re an overachiever, aren’t you? 18 years old and you already have your own agency.

Not that I’m complaining. Thanks for making it so easy for me to find you :)

So…let’s meet up sometime, when you have time? Maybe for some coffee? I know a quaint little place. It’s not too far away from your agency, three blocks to the right, turn left, and walk to the next intersection. It’s the corner shop. You can’t miss it.

I’ll wait for you there this Saturday, okay? I’ll do my work there. You can walk in whenever you have the time.

Your chicken, (Y/N)

Saturday came faster than you could prepare yourself. You checked your reflection repeatedly in the mirror, double-guessing your outfit decisions.

What if he doesn’t like it?

Is this too formal for a coffee date?

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Your friend barged into the bathroom. “I saw all the clothes on your bed! Are you going on a date?”

“Uh…just a meeting with an old friend. To catch up,” you explained.

She looked at you suspiciously. “Old friend…is it that guy on TV? Hawks?”

You grew flustered. “Err…yeah. If he got my letter.”

She looked you up and down, then dragged you into her closet. “Good thing I just went on a shopping spree last weekend then!” She pumped a fist excitedly in the air. “I’m giving you a makeover!”

Two hours later, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror once more. Your friend had put you through every single possible combination of outfits using both your closet and hers, and you had to agree that she had impeccable taste.

“Come on, you’re going to be late!” She shoved you out of the bathroom.

“I didn’t set a time!” You protested, laughing.

“Well, get your ass out of here! My boyfriend’s coming over!”

“So that’s the real reason you want me gone, hmm?” You teased her.

“Shush! Get out!”

Hawks was on patrol. You had been on his mind the entire week. Ever since your letter had reached his desk, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Thinking about you brought back happier times, and he wasn’t masochistic enough to give himself false hope.

No, it would be better for you to forget about him, and vice versa.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself. His body flew of its own accord, ignoring the sensibilities of his mind that screamed at it to stop.

Go back! The reasonable voice inside his head yelled.

Fly back!

His body refused to listen.

He found himself gently landing on a rooftop, right across the little café you told him to meet you at.

He even debated going inside. Just for a second. Just for a cup of coffee, to warm myself up in the chilly late-afternoon breeze, he told himself.

Then, he scoffed. Who was he kidding? If he went inside, he wouldn’t have the resolve to step back out before he saw you.

Shaking his head, he flew away as quickly as he could.

If he’d stayed a moment longer, he would’ve seen you walk down the street, humming a little tune to yourself.

Maybe then his resolve would’ve cracked.

Too bad he’ll never know.

Sitting alone at a table for two was an unpleasant feeling. Especially when you’re on your third drink, the waitress keeps eyeing you with pity, and you couldn’t concentrate on your work.

“Miss?” The waitress stopped by your table again. “Sorry to bother you, but we’re closing in 15 minutes.”

You checked the time on your laptop. Crap. It was already 5:15.

“Oh yeah, uhh, sorry to bother you!” You chuckle awkwardly. You quickly packed your books and laptop, dropped a $20 bill on the table, and hurried out the door. Walking home in silence, you tried your best not to feel too disappointed.

Maybe he just didn’t have time?

It’s ok. You’ll just ask him again, another time.

Another time.

You sent him countless letters. For the first year, at least. When he ignores all of them, you visit his agency in person.

As you walk through the glass doors, there’s a man sitting behind the reception desk.

“Hello, miss. How can I help you today?” He asks in the customary polite tone.

“I’m looking for Keigo. Hawks,” you answer, trying to hide your nervousness.

He looks at you suspiciously. “How do you know his first name?”

“We…we were childhood friends,” you tried to explain. “I…well, I haven’t seen him in a while.”

He took a closer look at you. “Can I ask for your name, miss?”

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

He sighed. “I’m afraid that you’ll have to leave the premises, Miss (Y/L/N). You’re not allowed to be here.”

What?

He hadn’t kicked you out before you told him your name.

“Why-” you started, but he cut you off.

“Miss (Y/L/N). I’m afraid that I have to ask you to leave, and don’t come back. Should I call security to escort you out?”

Holding back tears, you clutched your purse close to your chest and hurried out the glass doors, wishing nothing more than to shatter them into pieces.

You didn’t send any more letters after that.

Years pass. Every year on your birthday, Keigo gave you a feather.

“So I’ll always be with you,” he joked.

His feathers are extra durable, but time can wear down even the strongest things.

The last feather you got from him was ten years ago.

It can barely be considered a feather at this point, and you keep it in a special glass case so it can’t get any more worn down.

Ten years.

You’re turning 25 tomorrow.

Ten years of waiting around for him turned into ten years of watching him date other women. Ten years of hiding your pain every time another picture of him kissing a new girl graced the covers of the tabloids.

The first time, you cried yourself to sleep.

It wasn’t the last time.

Again and again, he breaks your heart.

By the third year, you convinced yourself to stop looking at the tabloids and the gossip sites.

By the fifth year, you scold yourself. You vow to stop crying over a stupid childhood crush.

By the seventh, you told yourself that you needed to forget about him. Step back into the dating ring, make out with someone else, and remove his presence entirely from your mind.

That didn’t work out.

Ten years.

It killed you to finally harden your resolve, but you told yourself that you couldn’t spend your whole life waiting for someone who was never going to love you back.

You’re turning 25 tomorrow, and you’re going to go on a date.

He’s watching you. He always is.

It makes him feel like a creepy stalker, but he can’t help it.

He watches you as you step into the restaurant, decked out in formal wear that looked amazing on you.

Going on a date. With someone who wasn’t him.

He stays on the rooftop, watching you through a window as you ate and laughed.

He wishes that he was the one making you laugh, that he was the one helping you order food from the menu, that he was the one sharing a dessert with you.

He’s selfish like that. It never does him any good.

He’s scared, really. Scared of commitment, tarnished by his time spent in the work program.

He sees you as the one thing in life that they can’t take away from him. You have this innocence, this purity that you always carry around with you, because you’re a part of a time when his life wasn’t so complicated.

He doesn’t want to shatter that illusion.

He never reached out to you because he’s scared.

He’s scared that he’ll break you.

He stopped sending you feathers, heart splintering every time your birthday comes around, hoping you’ll eventually forget him.

You don’t.

It’s not that you didn’t try.

No one else really interested you.

That is, until Masaki came along. He was bright, happy, always upbeat. He could find the words to cheer you up, to make a bad day that much better. He was attentive, caring, sweet.

He was everything that most people would look for in a partner.

And slowly, you began to open up to him too.

You fell into his embrace easier. You got a little happier when he came over for dinner.

You felt just a little safer when you were wrapped in his arms, a luxury you never thought you’d have.

Two years later, during a picnic date, he proposed.

You always had a love for picnic dates. Maybe because your first date, with Keigo, was a messy picnic affair during the spring, on top of a little hill where wildflowers bloomed and birds pecked at your leftovers.

“Stop!” You giggled, whipped cream smeared all over your cheeks. “You’re going to get it on my clothes!”

Keigo laughed, then popped another strawberry in your mouth. “You can wash that off later, silly! Just have fun!”

“It’s not fun when my clothes are all sticky,” you whined. “You try it! It feels gross!”

He smirked. “Oh really?”

Taking a strawberry, he dipped it in the container of cream you had brought, then stuck it down his shirt.

“Ha! Take that!” He gloated.

You stared at him in shock. “Did you just–”

“Yes I did! And it’s not gross at all, see?” He plucked the strawberry back out and shoved it in his mouth.

“Eww! Kei, that’s disgusting!”

“No it’s not, it still tastes like a strawberry! Mphm!” He chewed, licking his fingers.

He regretted that decision later, when bees swarmed the front of his shirt.

“Eek!” He shrieked, hopping backwards.

“Kei, take off your shirt!”

“It’s so sticky!” He yelped, trying to peel the front of his shirt away from his chest.

“I told you!”

“Hey, now is NOT the time for the ‘I told you so’ speech, okay?” He finally ripped his shirt off.

You couldn’t help it. You cackled.

“What now?” He looked at the bees feasting on his ruined tee.

“I told you so,” you teased him.

Taking one look at the devious glint in his eyes, you scooped up the picnic supplies and raced down the hill.

He followed, wings beating, taking off into the air. He reached you within seconds, tacking you to the ground.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” You struggled against him. “You know you’re fast when you fly!”

He looked at you mischievously. “And what about it?”

“You can’t race me like that when I’m on foot!”

“Who said we were racing?” His eyes locked on your lips. “I was just trying to catch up to you.”

You blushed, suddenly realizing how close his face was to yours.

“Kei–” you started.

“Can I kiss you?” He interrupted you, then quickly blushed. “I mean, only if you want to-”

You wrapped your hands in his hair, interrupting him with a kiss.

He tasted like the remnants of strawberries and cream, sweet honey on a beautiful spring day.

And it was a beautiful spring day.

Perhaps the last beautiful spring day you’d ever have, for the next spring, he was gone.

Beautiful spring days were few and far between. You’d learned that the hard way.

But today…you were inclined to think that it might be another one of those days.

Your boyfriend of two years had proposed on a beautiful spring day reminiscent of one long ago.

You supposed that this marked a series of firsts.

First date. First kiss. And now…a proposal.

You accept his proposal, tears in your eyes. He thinks that they’re tears of happiness, and in part, they are.

You don’t tell him that this was the one thing that you never thought you’d do. You feel like you’re betraying Keigo.

You have to remind yourself that he betrayed you first.

Half a year later, you have a wedding. It’s a small wedding, with only your families and close friends. You considered reaching out to Hawks’s hero agency, but decided to spare yourself the pain.

He’d moved on. So would you.

Unbeknownst to you, when the ceremony rolled around, Keigo was standing on a nearby rooftop, the wind blowing away his tears.

He couldn’t believe how beautiful you were.

He knew that he couldn’t have you, but didn’t you know that he was a sucker for pain? Watching you repeat the vows was like getting punched full-force in the gut, but the wind never returned to his lungs.

He felt empty inside. Something essential was missing, and he knew what it was, but he also knew that he couldn’t ever have it. Not if he wanted you to stay alive.

As the ceremony finished, he flew away into the sunset, and you caught a glimpse of his crimson wings, purely on accident. You shook your head in disbelief.

“Now I’m hallucinating too,” you muttered to yourself.

But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you imagined the whole thing, that final view made it so much harder for you to forget him.

Another year passed, and the seasons changed as they did. Spring flowing into summer, summer fading into autumn, autumn slowly drifting into winter.

Gradually, your new life engulfed you, the comfort of it all slowly draining away your doubts. Your husband was a good man. A faithful man. A caring man.

He held doors open for you and snuggled you on the couch. He played with your hair and made you breakfast in bed. He made it difficult for you not to love him.

You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to resist, anyways.

One night, you woke up in your shared bed, screaming in pain. Your lower back burned, almost as if you were getting branded.

Your husband woke up to the commotion. The bedsheets were stained with blood. Fresh, crimson, blood, all of it coming from you.

Whimpering, you laid limp as Masaki set you on your belly, trying to figure out the source of the injury. Taking a clean paper towel, he gingerly wiped the blood off of your raw skin, showing a tattoo emblazoned in gold ink.

Written in elegant cursive were three simple words.

Three words, but they hurt to look at.

(Y/N) …I’m sorry.

Your husband stared in shock. This didn’t happen. This couldn’t happen, could it? The only way someone got a tattoo like this was if their soulmate died, and, well…he was still very much alive.

He wasn’t your soulmate.

In this world, quirks weren’t the only strange thing.

Soulmates existed. But most never found out until it was too late.

When your soulmate died, their last words would be tattooed permanently on their other half’s skin in a bloody and painful process.

Their last moments would flash before the other’s eyes.

Nothing you could do. Nothing you could be sure of, until it was too late.

Fires blazed everywhere.

Building after building, it ate away at the crumbling city, tearing down everything in its path.

“Help!” A voice choked out, raspy from smoke intake. “There’s a beam—ugh—on my leg. I can’t get it off!”

A winged figure crouched on a burning rooftop, out of breath and utterly exhausted.

Backup wasn’t coming.

The whole city was burning.

Standing shakily, he sent the last of his feathers off to help the trapped woman.

“That’s it for me then, I suppose,” his smile wobbled slightly. “My work here is done.”

He couldn’t risk jumping off of the roof. His wings were stubs on his back, and only a single feather remained.

“That’s not enough for me to fly off, now is it?” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, if only you could see me right now, (Y/N). You’d be proud. Saved more than 500 people today, you know that?” He sighed, sitting down on the roof. “Lost count somewhere around there. You were always proud of me, weren’t you? The only one that believed in me when I told myself I couldn’t fly.

You’re the one that taught me to fly, remember, chicken? Those were the good times.

Look at me now. Talking to myself. Don’t even have the strength to fly down anymore.” He coughed into his hand, blood staining his palm. He grasped tightly onto a keychain around his neck, smearing the metal with crimson.

“I never did thank you. Guess it’s too late now.” He stared up at the sky, hues of orange and gold dancing across the horizon.

“Never did treat you right.” He plucked his last feather off of his back, twirling it around in his fingers.

“You were always too good for me. Too good for anyone, really.” He laid down on the roof, back no longer sensitive to the burning heat.

“I lost the right to love you a long time ago. I’ve got no business crying over you.” He chuckled bitterly. “But is that going to stop me?”

Letting go of the keychain and his feather, his hands went limp.

“(Y/N),” he sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The roof collapsed, the hungry flames licking at the bottom finally swallowing him whole. His comms fell out of his ear, the plastic melting in the heat.

A single red feather floated down to the ground, charred and blackened.

The only remains of his body they’ll ever find.

You were sobbing uncontrollably. Keigo.

He was your soulmate.

The boy you loved.

The one who’d abandoned you.

The one who you tried to forget.

He was your soulmate.

Your soulmate, who was dead.

“Turn…turn on the TV,” you whispered weakly. “Turn it on. I need to see.”

Masaki reached for the remote, flipping it on to the news channel.

“Earlier tonight, a bomb was detonated in Nagoya prefecture. Top heroes were on the scene, including Endeavor and Hawks, but their quirks are ill-suited to fight the conflagration. Endeavor has resorted to using brute strength to rescue people from the rubble, while Hawks hasn’t been seen since the beginning of the night. We are now reporting his status as MIA, and will continue to look for the Winged Hero, along with updating our reports on the status of missing civilians–”

You shut the TV off. You’d heard all you needed to.

Throwing on a mishmash of clothing, you sprinted out the door. Hailing a taxi, you hopped in before it had even screeched to a full stop.

“Hawks Hero Agency.” You told the driver, not bothering to mince your words. You hadn’t bothered to wipe all the blood off of your back either, so it was gradually staining your coat a deep crimson, a mocking parody of the way that Keigo’s feathers used to lay against his back.

His feathers that were burnt, charred, turned to ashes, no longer able to bring you the comfort they once had when they wrapped you in a warm embrace.

The driver looked concerned. “Miss, do you know what happened today? Hawks isn’t–”

“Yes, I know. Drive.”

You pressed your forehead against the window, breath steaming up the glass. It reminded you of one winter, when the two of you had been building snowmen, and your mother called you in for dinner.

“Kei, I have to go,” you tugged at his hand.

“Aww, (Y/N),” he kicked at an unfortunate stone with the scuffed toe of his boot. “Why can’t you stay a little longer? We haven’t finished his head yet.” He pouted.

“I can’t, Kei,” you tried to make him release his iron grip on your hand. “Mama’s gonna get mad.”

“Then I’ll make you stay!” He boldly declared, wrapping his little arms around your frame, tackling you to the snow-covered ground.

The two of you giggled, engaged in a tickle war, your mom’s voice fading into the distance.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)!” Your mom yelled, marching over to where the two of you lay, tangled in a heap. “Do you want to get a cold?”

“No, Mama,” you said, slowly getting up and dusting the snow off of your parka. “I’m coming.” You turned around and poked your tongue out at your friend, letting your mom drag you back into your house.

Keigo sat in the snow for a while longer, not exactly excited to go back to his house.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.

He beat his little wings as fast as he could, half flying, half stumbling to your kitchen window.

Sneaking a peek inside, he saw you staring questioningly back at him. Not bothering to hide his mischievous grin, he puffed out a breath, steaming the window, took his little glove off, and started writing.

“D O  Y O U  W A N T  T O  F L Y  W I T H  M E ?” He painstakingly wrote out.

You shook your head, and his grin quickly dropped from his face. Looking down, he almost missed the words you mouthed out.

“I can’t read it!” You tried your best to sign. “It’s backwards!”

“Oh!” He tried his best to write the mirror image of what he had just written, making sure that you could read it from your point of view this time. You read his little message, a grin taking over your face.

“Y E S!” You mouthed. “YES, YES, YES!”

Quickly scarfing down your dinner, you waved a hasty goodbye to your mom, racing out the back door, only to get tackled into the snow.

“Come on, let’s go!” He took ahold of your hand. “Race you!”

“You can’t race me if you’re holding my hand!” You shrieked in delight. “Stop it!”

He paused, turning around. “Hmm. Well, maybe I don’t want to race you then,” he looked at you with a small smile on his face. “I wanna try something new!”

“Oh?” You asked, seeing the way his eyes lit up with delight. “What is it?”

“I wanna fly! With you!”

Giggling, he turned you around so that your back was facing him. He circled his arms below your armpits.

“Hang on!” He flapped his wings as fast as he could, kicking up a storm of snow around you. To his surprise, he actually managed to lift the two of you off the ground for around 3 feet or so. He wasn’t expecting it to work on his first try, but the two of you really were flying!

Sighing, you turned away from the window.

Happier times, you chuckled mirthlessly.

Isn’t it sad that I’m only remembering them now?

The car screeched to a stop at the front door to the Hawks Hero Agency.

You stepped into the lobby, the fluorescent lights blinding.

It’s the middle of the night, but they don’t seem to mind, you thought. Everyone was bustling around the place like it was normal.

The receptionist had changed since you’d last been here.

She spotted you and hurried over, most likely because of the blood staining your clothes.

“Miss, are you hurt?” She gave you a once-over. “Can I help you?”

You stared at her in shock for a moment. What were you here for again?

“Oh…uh,” you wrung your hands nervously. “I’m here for Hawks.”

Her expression of concern melted away into one of annoyance. “Another fangirl. This one appears to be married too,” she scoffed at the band adorning your left ring finger. “People these days…” she muttered underneath her breath, already hurrying back to her desk, where the phone rang incessantly.

“No. I’m not a fangirl.” You lifted your head. You might be in pain, but damned if you were going to let a stranger strip you of the remaining shreds of your dignity.

“I’m his soulmate.”

The way you said that phrase with such conviction made the lady pause.

“Soulmate?” She questioned. Girls had tried this trick on her before, but…when asked to prove themselves, they merely responded with “oh, it’s just a feeling,” or “I just know it.”

Never once had anyone said this phrase with such confidence.

“Yes.” You shut your eyes, defiantly holding back tears. “You have comms, right? What did he say before the comms died?”

The lady stared back at you, a pang of sorrow shooting its way into her heart. You weren’t joking around, were you?

“I…yes, yes we do. What’s your name, miss?”

You sucked in a deep breath. “(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

She stared at you for another moment, then quietly pulled out her comms.

“He said…” she choked a little. “He said, ‘(Y/N) …I’m sorry.’ We weren’t sure who he was talking about. We assumed it was a civilian he wasn’t able to save,” she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. “Oh God…”

Quietly, she choked out another question. “Was it…was he talking about…you?”

You didn’t want to reply. You’d heard enough.

The lady didn’t try to stop you as you ran to the elevator, your fingertip pressing the “up” button so hard it bruised.

Quickly looking at the directory, you found his office.

“420.” You choked out a pained laugh. “He always did like messing around with people.”

Collapsing against the corner of the elevator, you wrapped your arms around your knees and lowered your head. You felt so goddamn tired.

Why did it have to be you?

Why couldn’t he break someone else’s heart?

Someone who was stronger?

Someone who could take this in stride and move on?

Why did the universe choose you?

The elevator bell dinged, rousing you from your thoughts. You stood up slowly, a trail of blood staining the place where you once sat.

Crimson, like the trail of feathers he’d (perhaps intentionally) shed during that game of hide and seek.

You buried your face into your hands.

Goddamnit, Keigo! Why does everything have to remind me of you?

You made your way into his office, most likely the messiest of all the top pro-hero offices. Paperwork was scattered everywhere, jackets strewn across the floor. You even saw a shoelace string laying on the carpet next to his desk.

It’s almost as if he’d always expected to come back.

Stepping cautiously over the objects that littered the ground, you came face-to-face with a cabinet next to his desk.

Snowglobes. So many snowglobes.

Snowglobes occupied every shelf of the cabinet, and the glass doors made it easy to examine the contents.

You squinted closely at them. They were all…different angles of the same scene, you realized.

The snow park above your houses.

He’d had snowglobes made.

They immortalized the place where the two of you played all day in the snow.

The place where he first learned how to fly, gliding off the hills like a paraglider.

The place where he’d picked you up and learned how to fly with another person’s life in his hands, hugging you close to his chest, reveling in your warmth.

In the spring, it was the place where he took you on your first picnic date.

The place where the two of you shared your first kiss.

The place where he left you his goodbye note, tucked away under the grounding weight of a boulder you used to lay on, basking in the sun’s warmth.

He’d had 12 snowglobes made. Your lucky number.

12 different angles that showcased the same scenery.

Suddenly, your legs wouldn’t carry your weight anymore. You leaned back into his chair, still smelling faintly of his scent.

How can someone’s scent not change over 13 years?

You closed your eyes, and quickly opened them again when you saw a pile of letters on the corner of the desk.

You weren’t sure why they caught your eye. They weren’t anything special, really. Plain white envelopes addressed in plain black print.

You took a closer look.

That was your name on the envelopes.

You leaned closer, quickly shuffling through them all.

Each and every single one of them was addressed to you.

Each and every single one of them was dated a year apart.

Each and every single one of them was marked for your various addresses over the years, his handwriting steadily improving.

You couldn’t resist your curiosity. Taking a paper cutter, you tore through the seal of the earliest envelope.

A single red feather, beautifully preserved, floated out.

You stared in shock. He…he didn’t forget.

He never forgot.

He just chose not to send it.

Hurriedly opening the remaining envelopes, you acquired more feathers, each fresher than the last.

By the end, you had a pile of 13 crimson feathers, right next to 13 shredded envelopes.

You looked around, confused. Why hadn’t he left a note? Any note?

Did he…did he never write letters?

You knew that you had sent him letters.

Maybe they did throw them out as spam.

Your curiosity piqued, you pulled open drawer after drawer, but none of them held anything of personal importance.

Finally, you came upon the bottom right drawer.

It was locked, you realized.

You carefully place the feathers back in their respective envelopes. Sealing them up once again, you carry them in a stack, making your way downstairs.

The agency workers saw you with the letters in your arms, not sure if they should stop you or not. When you looked to the receptionist and murmured a quiet “thank you”, they stood their ground. If she was okay with you walking away like this, then there shouldn’t be a reason that they wouldn’t be.

The taxi driver who took you here was still waiting outside. Seeing you arrive, he stomped out his cigarette butt and opened the backseat door for you.

“Rough night, miss?” He looked at your back, pity obvious in his expression. “Do you want me to take you to a hospital with that?”

You shook your head. “They can’t fix that. Do you remember the way we came?”

“Aye, yes I do,” he stepped into his own seat. “I’ll take you there right quick, miss. Don’t you worry.”

As you rode back home in silence, you couldn’t stop thinking about the cabinet in Keigo’s office.

The feathers, folded away safely in the envelopes you were holding.

If he never forgot, why did he never reach out?

The car door slamming shook you from your daze. “Miss, you’re back home.”

You stared at the man, realizing that you didn’t have your wallet on you.

“Do you mind waiting a second? I’ll go get my wallet now–”

He shook his head. “I know where that blood came from. See here?” He rolled up his sleeve.

“Got mine when I was 22,” a melancholy smile framed his face. “Rare, right? I never did find out who she was.

But the hospital staff helped me that day. Looked for deaths around my age, and then when I tried to pay ‘em, they refused. Said ‘twas only the right thing to do. Now I finally get to repay the favor. Don’t you go tryna pay me now. Won’t ‘ccept it.”

He leaned back against the hood of his car. When you opened your mouth to object, he merely saluted you, hopped back into the driver’s seat, and drove off into the night.

You turned to your house. The lights were still on inside, meaning your husband was still up. He probably couldn’t sleep, not after what had just happened. You couldn’t blame him.

Stepping inside, you heard muffled sobs coming from the kitchen.

“Masaki?” You leaned on the doorframe. He looked up at your voice.

“(Y/N)?” He rose from the table. “You’re…you’re okay,” he wrapped you in a hug.

You cleared your throat. “…yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” you hugged him back.

I’m okay, you tried to convince yourself.

“Where did you go?” He looked at you curiously. Finally seeing the envelopes in your arms, he paused.

“Babe?” He asked softly. “Did you…did you know him?”

You buried your face into his chest. “Yeah…yeah, I did.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked softly.

“Not really…not now…” you replied.

He patted your back lightly. “That’s ok. I understand.”

The rest of the night went by in a blur. The letters were scattered on your nightstand, your husband helping you into the shower. He’s changed the bloody sheets already, but the stains on the mattress were stubborn and refused to come out.

Crimson stains, in the shape of wings.

Days later, some people from the agency stopped by your house.

“Is there a (Y/N) (Y/L/N) at this address?” The receptionist from your earlier encounter knocked on the door.

“Uh, hi. Yeah, that’s me,” you answered, not bothering to change out of your bathrobe. Your complexion had grown waxen, face shallow. Your hair formed an unkempt nest, spiraling around your face.

She gave you a smile, pity etched in her face. It disgusted you, really.

All anyone ever gave you nowadays was pity. Pity cards from your coworkers, although you weren’t sure how the information leaked out. Pitiful glances from your husband, who insisted on doing all the chores around the house.

Pity, pity, pity.

“What is it?” You asked her.

“We have some…documents for you.” She waved over two guys, each lugging a large crate of…paper?

“Wait…all that? For me?” You were confused. There was no way that that bottom drawer, even if all it contained were letters, had that much paper in it.

“Yes, (Y/L/N)-san. It’s all for you.” The men dropped off their crates at your door.

“What’s going on?”

“These were stored in the records house. Hawks filed them. They were all addressed to you, so we felt that this was the proper treatment.”

“We’ll leave you to go through these in your own time.” She started down the steps. Then, as if remembering something suddenly, she paused.

“You know…he was a good man,” she smiled gently. “We all knew he had a secret someone. We just didn’t know who they were. I’m glad he found you. Hero work is dangerous, especially for top heroes like him.

I hope that you find joy in those letters.” She turned back and finished her journey down the steps.

You turned around and looked at the crates.

Found me?

You smiled bitterly, a brittle coldness taking over your heart.

He never really did find me, did he?

Sighing, you sorted through the crates, looking for the ones that were dated the earliest. You carried the oldest set of letters into the bedroom and tore open the first envelope.

Hey, (Y/N). It’s me, Kei.

I hope you haven’t forgotten about me. I mean, I’m not an easy person to forget, I suppose, but it has been a while. Three years, to be exact.

Three years can do a lot to a person.

I should know.

How are you doing? I hope you managed to keep Timothy alive. You were always prone to overwatering him.

I’m not sure how long cacti live, but…if you nurture something, anything can happen, right?

I’m a hero now. I’m sure you know. My debut was broadcasted all over national television. They just can’t resist making themselves look good, can they?

At least now I’m allowed to write. I hope you understand why I haven’t written to you in so long.

I didn’t forget about you. How could I? Even though we were only 15, how could I forget someone like you?

I missed you. I don’t think you understand how much. It felt so empty, living without you by my side. Like…like I wasn’t ever warm enough, even bundled in the tightest blankets. I was always missing you.

Sounds like a curse, eh?

But don’t worry. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I just wanted you to know that.

Yours, Kei.

Ripping open letter after letter, you realized that you held his entire life story in your hands.

Hey chicken. It’s Kei again.

Realized I’ve been treating these letters as a kind of diary. I guess it’s…therapeutic? Even though I know I’ll never send these. I don’t want to put you in danger, you know?

Do you remember when we were kids?

We had all the time in the world to do whatever we wanted.

I miss that time.

Not as much as I miss you though.

I check in on you every so often, but I make sure you never see.

False hope is a dangerous thing. It shatters your soul into pieces, and when you try and piece them back together, it cuts your heart so badly you wish you’d never started.

But, you see, you’re like a drug for me.

I can’t seem to stop myself. No matter how bad it hurts, I…I still come back.

You wouldn’t know, of course.

I suppose there’s a reason it hurts when you stare into the sun.

I’m already broken, yeah? I don’t want you to break with me.

The thing is, I know you’d want to. I know we promised we’d always come back for each other. We promised we’d always be here for each other.

But some promises were meant to be broken.

You can’t be here for me, birdie. You’ll get hurt.

That would hurt me more than anything else, (Y/N).

So for my own safety, and yours…

This is the last time I’ll write to you.

I have to move on, or else those pieces of my soul?

They’re already in splinters, but if I keep going like this, they’ll be nothing more than powder, and I don’t think I could go on like that, yeah?

I love you, forever and always.

Kei.

Ha. Guess what.

What I said in the last letter?

A fucking lie.

I physically. Can’t stop.

The thought of not writing to you breaks me more than the thought of never being with you, and that’s a milestone I never thought I’d be able to pass.

So here I am again.

You’ve already heard my entire life story.

I wish I could be there to hear yours.

I saw you tonight, standing on your balcony. You know, the stars were so bright tonight. Reminded me of your eyes the first time I flew with you around the whole field, yeah?

Sparkling. You never stop sparkling, do you?

You know…do you ever wonder who your soulmate is?

I know that the world is cruel. I know that we don’t know exactly who our soulmates are until one of us dies.

But…do you ever think about it?

Who’s out there, just waiting for you?

Because I do.

And sometimes, when I’m at rock bottom, I’ll imagine that we’re soulmates.

I’ll create scenarios in my head. We’d be happily married. I’d spoon-feed you ice cream.

We’d play tickle wars with my feathers, have pillow fights, binge TV shows.

We’d watch horror movies, and you’d hide your face in my chest the whole time.

But…those scenarios always make me feel worse after I wake up. Because they’re not real.

And I…I so desperately want them to be real.

But you can’t always get what you wish for, yeah?

Going on a big mission soon. Undercover. Cool, right?

You’d be proud of me, I think, if you saw me.

I have to go now. But I’ll come back safe for you, yeah?

I know you won’t wait for me. I want you to wait for me, but…I know it’s not in your best interests. Probably not in mine either.

Sometimes I try and convince myself that it’s okay to be selfish. I want what I want, and you only live once, right?

But then I realize that you’re the one I’d be putting in danger.

And that’s when I realize you can’t ever stay with me.

It’s okay. I’ll watch from afar.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop loving you.

Yours,

Kei.

You put the letter down and rummaged through the second crate, desperately trying to find the last letter that he wrote.

Hey birdie. Long time no see. Ha.

13 years and I still can’t forget about you. Doesn’t seem normal, does it?

I’m convinced that we’re soulmates, but then again, I may have convinced myself. You know…I used to hate the idea of soulmates. Sharing your life with another person, seen as incomplete without them?

Sharing my soul?

Bunch of crap, right? I like making my own decisions. Wasn’t ever much of a rule-stickler. But…you know…I’m starting to warm up to that idea.

But only with you.

And that’s why I’m convinced that we are, in fact, soulmates.

You don’t know how my heart breaks every time I see you. Manual is a good guy. I know he’s treating you well.

That’s the only reason I’m letting you stay married to him, really. If it was anyone else, I would’ve busted their ass.

But…you deserve someone like him. Someone who can give you their all.

Someone who, if you date them…they won’t lead you into danger.

Soulmates are a finicky concept, yeah?

So…I guess we’ll never know ‘till one of us dies.

Yours,

Kei.

Epilogue

Rainy winter days were the saddest days of the year.

Especially today.

Strolling through the park, you held a black umbrella in one hand and clutched a glass case tightly in the other.

You stopped in front of a marble headstone.

“Hey there,” your voice cracked.

“Miss me?”

A whistling wind, scattering powdered snow and frozen rain across the landscape, was your only answer.

“Kei, I–” You collapsed onto your knees, uncaring of whether or not the cold would seep in. It couldn’t get colder than your soul now, anyways.

“I…I didn’t go to your funeral.” Tears rolled down your cheeks, leaving a silvery sheen in their wake. “There were too many people and I…I couldn’t handle it.”

“But…Kei…” You choked out an ugly sob. “Why didn’t you send me the fucking letters?”

“I don’t care how dangerous your work was. You can’t get anywhere without taking risks in life, Kei!” You screamed at the marble façade, willing it to crumble.

“You can’t–”

“You can’t make my decisions for me!”

“I should be the one who gets to choose who I love!”

Your screams attracted the attention of several bystanders, who quickly averted their eyes and walked away when they saw your distraught state.

“You shouldn’t have tried to choose for me!”

“And now–”

“You’re dead, Kei! What am I supposed to do now?” Your tears pooled on the frozen ground, marking little dents in the snow.

You slammed your fists into the ground, the glass case in your hand cracking.

Another ugly sob made its way out.

“Kei–” you whimpered.

The glass shattered, splintering into thousands of tiny pieces, each fragment glittering like diamonds.

Slivers found their way into your palm.

Crimson blood, the color of the worn-out feather freed from its enclosure, splattered the snow-white ground.

“Kei,” you whispered, carefully placing the feather on top of the chiseled marble.

“Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy.”

Masterlist

[bre-meister]

This one is actually a continuation of that ask from a while back: “I heard you had lunch with ___”

Hope you enjoy!

Leon Kennedy was many things. He was a D.S.O Agent, a close confidant of the President, and, most importantly, a husband and a father. But, at the end of the day, Leon Kennedy may have been all of those things, but he was also just that, a man. And like many men, he got jealous.

His conversation with Claire about her boss, Neil Fisher, had put a lot of things into perspective for him. He knew that Neil was not a threat to him - never was and never would be. However, Leon would be the first to admitted that he has somewhat of a...possessive streak especially when it comes to his family. Personally, he thinks it’s a holdover from his line of work - keep his loved ones close and no one can hurt them. Whether that was true or not didn’t negate the fact that his slight possessive issues were very much present and when that mixed with his jealousy, Leon was a force to be reckoned with.

So, while Neil possessed no problems within his marriage, he had shown an increasing interest in his wife and that was something that Leon could not just let slide. Thus, his master plan had been birthed.

He hid his intentions from Claire; if she found out he would most definitely end up in the dog house. That was a place he’d learned from experience that he did not want to be. So this operation had to be top secret - even if Claire would be involved later. 

He planned and he waited - patience was a virtue of course. Finally, the perfect moment presented itself and Leon was poised to strike. 

Hunnigan mentioned on Monday that this would most likely be a slow week - at least as slow as a government agency that deals closely with both the President and B.O.W attacks could be. She suggested he take advantage of that and use some of his accumulated down time to spend some time with his family. So, he planned to take off for just a few hours that Thursday to have a nice lunch with his wife. He’d arrive early to make sure that Neil would see him sweep his wife off of her feet right before taking her out for a nice, well deserved lunch between just the two of them - a feat that they don’t accomplish often now with a baby in the house.

So he planned and he waited - just a few more days. He thought up idea upon idea of how he could make it obvious to Neil that Claire was most definitely (and happily he may add) taken without all but saying it. PDA had never really been his thing - it kind of made him uncomfortable to be honest - but he was prepared to feel a little uncomfortable to make Neil uncomfortable enough to control his wandering thoughts about his wife.

                                                        _________

Thursdays were always interesting days for Claire. They were far enough into the week that one was most definitely ready for the weekend and terrible at the same time - taunting almost in the sense that the weekend was so close but so far away, safeguarded by two full days of work. It was good work; the work of a rescuer as her husband would say. It needed to be done and Claire enjoyed it - the knowledge that she was helping people. But, sometimes she wished that work didn’t involve so much paperwork. She briefly wondered if Leon ever felt the same way. She’d seen the stacks of reports that had to be filled out after each of his missions and assignments; there was no way any of that was particularly pleasant to fill out. 

So, as Claire got ready that normal Thursday morning, she found herself preparing for a hopefully boring day doing good work to help good people. And as she sat at the breakfast table watching Leon make goofy faces as he fed their daughter, she couldn’t help but wish the weekend would arrive just a little sooner. She was already making plans to spend as much time as she could with her family. 

It seems that everyone had been making plans that day, because when Claire made it to the office, she noticed that Neil had apparently planed a whole day of work for their team in what, she assumed, was a bid to grab her attention for a large portion of the day. Claire being more experienced in most aspects of bioweapons made her the perfect person for a go between her team and their boss as they created a campaign to bring more light to Umbrella and the viruses that still wracked the world even as the company began to sink.

Neil pretended to need extra explanations of certain aspects of the plan in order to extend their time together. Claire knew he was putting on a front, Neil was a smart guy, he wouldn’t have his current job is he wasn’t. But, Claire humored him against her own personal wishes, afterall, he was still her boss.

In terms of personal feelings against the man, Claire didn’t have any in particular. Neil seemed like a nice enough man but she was aware of his feelings for her and she was a happily married woman. Even though she had told Leon he had nothing to notice about -  and he didn’t - but she felt it was still best to limit her interactions with Neil as much as she could.

It came as no surprise to her that when the typical lunch hour rolled around, Neil began to insist that they spend it together.

“I think it would be a great opportunity for you to further explain this brilliant plan of yours.”

“I’ve already explained every minor detail to you. Now I think it would be best if you just read through the proposal on your own, maybe that way you can figure out whatever is confusing you. Sometimes it’s just the way someone is explaining it and not the content itself.” Claire began to gather her things and move to her own office to grab her purse and head to lunch. She had somehow managed to forget her pack lunch on the kitchen counter and would now have to go buy one.

“Well, then we could use this time to get to know eachother better. Every boss should know his employee’s right? Especially ones he tends to work the most with.”

“Well, if we’ll be working so closely together so often then I fail to see why you would want to spend more time with me.” She had reached her door now. Turning the nob she prayed she would be able to slip in and close the door on Neil without too much resistance.

“Who wouldn’t want to spend more time with you Angel?”

She froze. Looking up she was shocked to see her husband sitting in her chair, a bouquet of red roses sitting in front of him on her desk.

“Leon? What are you doing here?” she shook her head, moving to embrace him as he stood, “i mean, not that i’m not happy to see you but still, what are you doing here.”

“Well I just missed your smiling face so much I had to rush over immediately to see you.”

She fixed him with a look that said she was not amused (even though she was).

“It was kind of a slow day at the office and Hunnigan suggested I use that to my advantage. I noticed that you left your lunch at home so, being the chivalrous, caring man that I am, I decided I would come and whisk you away to a well deserved lunch. Just the two of us...alone...together.”

By this point she was completely wrapped in his arms. That familiar, calming sensation was enough to distract her from noticing how intently Leon was looking over he shoulder and through the doorway.

“Hmmm,” she hummed, “That does sound nice.”

Leon leaned down with, Claire assumed, the intention to place a kiss on her forehead or cheek like he was known to do in public. What she was not prepared for was a deep, heated kiss that would have been classified as that type of PDA that makes everyone around incredibly uncomfortable. The exact kind of kiss that Leon planted on her right in the middle of her office - a fact that was confusing to Claire considering she knew how much Leon preferred to avoid PDA.

The sound of someone clearing their voice is what finally caused them to pull apart. Claire would be the first to admit that she was a little sad the kiss ended so soon - having a baby on top of their already busy schedules didn’t leave much time for them. They were always Claire and Leon, Isabelle’s Mommy and Daddy. Or, Claire and Leon, Terrasave and the D.S.O’s best. Even Though she loved her daughter with her whole heart and believed just as strongly in the work she was doing, sometimes she just wanted to be Claire and Leon - that’s it, just them.

She didn’t need to turn around to know who was behind her - the smirk on Leon’s face told her it was Neil. Suddenly, Claire was begging to put two and two together. 

“Hi, Neil right?” Leon jumped right in.

“Um - “ Neil was not able to get a real word in before Leon interrupted him,

“I don’t think we got to properly meet at that event the other week, what with me technically working and all. Leon Kennedy,” he held his hand out for th either man to shake, “ Claire’s husband.”  Neil’s grip tightened at that. 

Claire could see the pride flowing through Leon at the small slip in Neil’s outward stature. When he dropped his hand, he immediately snaked it around her waist, pulling her close. Even Claire thought that his hand was a little too close to her ass considering her boss was standing in front of them. Then again, that was probably part of whatever plan he had concocted in his jealousy. 

“I forgot my lunch at home so Leon is going to take me out.” Claire stepped in, hoping that neither Leon nor Neil would make a fuss about the whole situation.

“I see he also brought you flowers...how nice.” Neil’s body language was stiff, it was obvious he was trying to restrain what was probably both disappointment and some varying degree of his own jealousy.

“Only the best for my Angel. She deserves flowers as beautiful as her but, alas, no such flower exists. So, I settled for roses.”

Claire loved Leon and so, she tended to put up with a lot of his antics. This one, however, was starting to irk her and the confidant smirk on his face really did it in for her. She was done being a things for these two men to fight over - one of which who definitely had no right to.

Claire shrugged out of Leon’s hold, moving behind her desk to grab her purse.

“Well, times wasting. Common Leon, let’s go.” She grabbed his hand and began to pull him out of the room. She was thankful he didn’t resist. As the passed him, she turned to speak to Neil one last time before leaving,

“ I have some time after lunch if you really need me to go over the plan again. I still suggest you go over the proposals on your own first though.”

Neil let out a mumbles “of course” but Claire was more focused on getting Leon across the open office space, into the elevator, and away from Neil.

                                                      ___________

“I’ve gotta admit,” Leon looked up from his fries to his wife as she spoke, “that line about the flowers? Some of your best work.”

Leon chuckled but looked back down at his plate. Apparently once they’d left the office he had found his shame at the way he had reacted even after being told by Claire he had nothing to worry about.

He’d insisted that Claire pick where they go to dinner. She had decided on a small dinner not that far from her office that they used to frequent often on impromptu dates not unlike their current one. The milkshakes here were her favorite.

“Ya well, it’s true.”

She reached across the table to hold his hand, milkshake forgotten in front of her.

“As much as I love beautiful flowers and amazing lunch dates, you know that you really don’t have anything to worry about. Neil is just my boss - a pretty poor one - but my boss none the less.”

“I get it, I do. I know you would never but, “ he sighed, “ I can’t help it Claire. I saw the way he looked at you and it just - forgive me?” He looked her in the eyes, his own wide enough to portray all the remorse he truly did feel about what was probably an overreaction.

Claire just smiled, she could never stay mad at him. She knew that they hadn’t been able to spend any real alone time together lately and that probably exacerbated his feelings threatening his fragil, male ego. Besides, she couldn’t say she didn’t enjoy that kiss earlier. Perhaps she should take Jill up on her offer to babysit more often.

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 17

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Angst, very slight fluff

; Word Count: 6k

; Warnings: Emotional breakdown, depiction of a panic/anxiety attack, in depth discussion/description of depression, brief mentions of suicide, lack of self-worth, self-hatred, self-doubt, dissociation

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: I haven’t proof read because...well I don’t really want to re-read it. So forgive me for any mistakes! It’s early by a day because I’ve missed a few weeks so I want you all to have something on what is a rainy night here in England <3

PLEASE make sure to read the warnings on this one. This chapter is very hard hitting for anyone who has suffered depression/anxiety. I put myself back in the position I was in last year when I had my own breakdown and I know people have said before that I write in a way that makes you feel what the character is feeling. Therefore, please don’t read if you’re going to be affected by the warnings! And please also be kind if you don’t agree with the way I depicted this. This is how my own depression and anxiety affected me, only I didn’t have a Hoseok in my life. The experiences the reader goes through in this are the ones I personally have experienced. It’s still a reader insert, don’t worry. She after all has a lot of things I don’t, and I’m also okay, so don’t worry on that front either! If you feel upset about anything after reading this, please consider reaching out to friends, family, professionals or a helpline that specialises in it!

And remember throughout everything...you’re not alone! You’re not worthless and you are loved. <3

-

Leaning against the railing outside your work building, you let out a deep and heavy sigh as you read through the email you’d just received. It’s a rejection email. The third rejection email you’d received today and the twenty-third you’d received in two weeks.

After an in-depth talk with your parents and support from Chungha, Soyeon and Hoseok, you’d decided to finally try and get that career change you’d always wanted. Though you’d pointed out that you didn’t know what you wanted from life anymore.

You didn’t know what you wanted full stop. 

One of the things that you’d been most afraid of when you’d realised that your relationship with Hoseok was turning into something genuine and real, had been what was going to come after. Not in terms of breaking up, though that did terrify you as well, but how your mental state was going to cope.

You’d tried to explain it to the girls a few times in an effort to get them to understand what went on in your rollercoaster of a mind, and you’d clumsily told Hoseok a few months ago. Or you’d tried at least. 

Talking about your emotions wasn’t easy for you and the fear of being too honest about something so crippling with someone who meant so much to you already had scared you away from telling him too much. Your mind had balked at it, afraid that if he found out just how bad you got sometimes that he might just leave before he got in too deep.

So you’d given him a very bare bones explanation of what happened to you sometimes. He probably didn’t think too much of it at the moment as you’d been pretty cheerful throughout the start of your relationship; the bliss of him overriding any of your deep seated depression and anxieties.

Hoseok was obviously aware that you suffered from anxiety and had been very caring in regards to that, but it was entirely different to be with someone in the grip of a depressive episode. Your form of depression could almost be charted, it was that easy to see what was coming, and you’d been so afraid for the last few weeks.

The lethargy and disinterest that associated itself so strongly with your depression had been creeping back into your life slowly. It had frightened you, but you just didn’t know how to combat it. Doing things that were big or made you extremely happy always seemed to come with a huge cost, and the cost was unfortunately your mental health.

Every single time you felt exhilarating highs in your emotions, the feelings so joyful and euphoric from your excitement and pure happiness, you suffered a plunging crash afterwards that often felt like it sucked the joy out of your life. It was something you’d tried to cope with for years now, and sometimes you could go months upon months without feeling like it was affecting you.

But the happiness of finding Hoseok and all of the early stages of your relationship, from the first kiss to sex and meeting your parents, had finally waned. The last few weeks had the deep sense of unhappiness that plagued your negative moods spreading quickly.

It had started as usual with the slowly losing interest in going out; the energy you’d once had to be social outside of your apartment dying until the idea of anything other than work or grocery shopping was too much effort. Then had come the lack of interest in anything.

You’d always found it hard to see that you were slipping, only recognising it properly when you would realise that you’d been laid on your bed or the couch for hours on end, doing nothing at all. Any attempts to find something to watch on television failed as your brain couldn’t find anything interesting enough to keep it’s attention, games sat unplayed as you couldn’t find the energy to turn them on while even just reading bored you.

In particularly bad spells, such as your final year of college when you’d been so afraid of failing but also afraid of having to go into the real world, you struggled to find the energy to even get out of bed. Hygiene only became a thing because of your severe distaste of being unclean, but other than that your bed often became your home.

You would sleep for hours upon hours, napping the day’s away as you consoled yourself with the knowledge that you didn’t have anything to do and so therefore didn’t need to get up. Even though a small voice in the back of your mind told you that no, you should get up. You should do something.

That small voice was drowned out often though. Vanishing on a fast current of melancholy. It frightened you that you were experiencing that now again, even with the wonderful light and joy that was Hoseok in your life. Waking up long after he’d already gotten up on the weekend and realising that you didn’t want to get up and follow him, that not even the comfort of his arms was enough to soothe the jagged hole inside your soul that seemed to grow deeper and wider with every day that passed.

Applying for the jobs had been an appeasement to those in your life who were worried about you. You knew that Hoseok could tell something was wrong, but he just didn’t seem to know what to do or how to help. Understandable really, as you didn’t tell him what was wrong.

But staring down at your phone screen, the black letters bold against the white background that once more proclaimed you weren’t good enough, you felt something deep inside you break. Something that you hadn’t realised was holding on by the thinnest thread, chafing away with each negative thought that had passed through your mind over the years.

What’s the point?

The insipid question whispers through your mind.

Why am I trying?

A second slithers into place, taking comfort with its neighbour.

Why am I doing this?

A third nestles safely between the two brooding thoughts.

I’ll never be good enough for anything.

Leaning your head forehead, you let it rest on your hand on the railing, eyes closing as your other hand tightens on your phone. The hopelessness that your mind has spun to life explodes to life, multiplying into countless thoughts of desolation and gloom that somehow combine together to make your head feel heavy and your limbs tired.

Slumping down onto the ground, you turn and let your back press against the railings. It was your lunch currently and you were at the back of the parking lot that faced your building, the facade blank with no clue as to what was going on inside. 

Blinking slowly, you realise that your breath is stuttering, almost choking itself. Like your throat is closing around nothing while your heart races a thousand miles a minute. Glancing down, you realise that your hands are shaking violently and you try to swallow, the movement so hard. And then you press a palm to your chest, a small whimper leaving your mouth as you simply try to breath.

But it all feels too much. It’s all just too much.

There’s nothing inside your head but despondency and yet your body feels too much, like it can’t cope. Your mind swings violently between the white fuzz of nothing and the sheer panic of a looming sense of dread, the fear of failure, rejection. The fear that you meant nothing and your life was nothing.

I can’t do this anymore.

It’s a simple thought, only five words long and it dances through your mind like a leaf on the breeze. Effortless and simple. 

For a few seconds you think nothing of it, the part of your mind that wasn’t well agreeing with it and conceding that there was no point anymore. You weren’t doing anything useful in life anyway and you doubted anyone would truly notice if you’d gone. A cog in the machine of life, that’s all you were.

And cogs could be replaced after all.

But then that tiny voice that had been washed away earlier appeared again, resolute and defiant against the tidal waves of desolation that swamped it. The tiny kernel of hope and happiness that you’d once had, that had slowly grown and blossomed into a tree with roots so deep it couldn’t be moved. It was a little dejected and a little threadbare from lack of nourishment, but it was there all the same.

The part of you that didn’t want to give up, the part of you that wanted to fight for your life. The part that had spurred you to confidence to message Hoseok, that had encouraged you to keep going in college. The part of you that told you it didn’t want to give up, didn’t want to give in.

Your lungs are heaving now, body hunched over as you grip your legs so tightly, head pressed to your knees while salty tears drip down your face. A heartbeat that feels like it’s working overtime is so loud you can feel it in your chest, the tension in your arms and torso so strong that your muscles hurt from the ache of holding them for so long.

Eyes hot and stinging as the tears overflow, you press hard on your chest and try to regulate your breathing. Try to calm yourself down, to bring yourself back from the precipice of the pain and panic that you feel. The overwhelming rollercoaster of your emotions is giving you whiplash, the melancholy you had been swept with being beaten savagely by the fear of your inability to breath and the panic of how dark your thoughts had gotten.

You needed to talk to someone, you needed to see someone. You needed someone there, someone to tell you that it was okay. That you weren’t worthless. That you had value, that you were loved. That you would be missed. That life wouldn’t be okay without you, that you were needed and necessary. Someone to push away your thoughts for long enough to just let you think clearly.

You don’t even realise you’ve dialled his number, fingers moving on autopilot as if your body is trying to help when your mind has become so paralysed. It’s not until his voice finally manages to pierce through the incessant self-flagellation that your mind is undertaking that you blink in confusion, brow creasing as you wonder why he’s here.

Glancing up, you wipe away at the tears that keep falling and stare at your phone, squinting to focus. The familiar smiling face of your boyfriend stares back, a photo taken weeks back on a date day to the beach. Your heart clenched tightly and your breath shudders, the wheezing sound as your lungs work hard to try and get oxygen loud as you have the odd mixture of desperation to talk to him along with the dread of annoying him.

One of the things you’ve always hated was talking about these personal issues with people. Even though you knew rationally that people would rather you tell them about what was worrying and upsetting you, the gleefully self-destructive part of your mind told you that you were annoying them with your concerns.

But Hoseok was talking through the small speaker, his voice loud against the quiet scenery around you with only your hyperventilated breathing being the odd noise. And then his words finally made sense, the syllables that had broken through your ennui turning into sounds you understood.

It was the confusion in them that caused you to listen properly at first, the way he said your name repeatedly before the ragged sound of your breathing obviously began to register. Then your name became more frantic, the fear in his voice slicing through your own inner wail of despair.

“Y/N? Hello? Y/N are you there? Hellooo? Y/N? Are you okay? Hey, are you...Y/N are you crying? Y/N? Talk to me, come on. Answer me sweetheart, baby answer me. Y/N what’s wrong? Are you crying? Y/N please answer.” His voice is getting progressively louder, the concern and worry louder and you suddenly feel even more self-loathing at the knowledge you’ve panicked him.

“Hobi.” It’s all you can get out though, the word pushing past the tightness of your throat as it contracts so violently, air struggling to get past. Clutching your chest, you recognise an odd wailing sound that escapes with each breath outwards. Hands shaking, you press the phone to your ear and let out a broken sob, trying to talk to him.

“Baby, baby what’s wrong? Has something happened? Are you okay? Have you had an accident? Is it your parents?” He fires questions at you quickly, trying to find some answer as to why his girlfriend has called him in the middle of a workday only to be sobbing and wailing down the phone at him.

Particularly when you both knew how much you despised talking on the phone.

But just the sound of his voice is soothing to the frayed nerves within you, a balm to the deep and aching pain that lurks inside. It’s not enough to pull you out your breakdown, not yet at least. This isn’t a film and television show and you’re aware enough to realise that real life doesn’t happen like that.

God you felt warm, so warm. So unbelievably warm but the sweat on your skin is cold, like you’re ill. Squeezing your eyes shut, you choke as you inhale too fast and your diaphragm jerks in a way that has you almost hiccuping.

Even though he doesn’t actually know what’s happening, Hoseok still manages to do the right thing. Because he stops his own panicked questions, his voice suddenly stabilises and a calm tone taking over.

“Okay baby...baby, listen to me. Okay, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. It’s going to be okay sweetheart, I swear. Come on, can you hear me?” A torn sound of acknowledgement leaves you, your muscles aching with tiredness from how hard you’ve held yourself.

“That’s good, that’s really good baby. I want you to listen to me, okay? Listen to what I say and then do it for me. I want you to try and breathe in, take a big breath. Really big, come on, do it with me,” You hear him inhale loudly and you try to follow, the shakiness overtaking. “And now it let out. Nice and slow, come on. Do it again.”

He continues on encouraging you through it, his deep voice that you’ve fallen so deeply for so soothing and reassuring. It almost makes you want to cry just hearing it, but you listen to what he says. Closing your own eyes and simply focusing on inhaling and exhaling, pushing all the negativity away until all that’s left is breathing.

Finally, after what feels like an hour, you realise that your breaths are jerky but almost stable. Deep breathes in and out help your body to relax itself, muscles releasing while the demons of depression and anxiety take a step back in your mind. They’re still there, you can feel them hovering over the edges, but you feel like you can cope again.

Wiping at your face once more, you sniff and almost burst into tears again when you realise how utterly pathetic you feel. How stupid you are to fall apart like that over a job rejection of all things. And those demons inch forward, whispering into the fragile parts of you.

“Y/N, are you with me? Are you okay?” Leaning your head back against the railing, you nod quietly before remembering he’s not actually there. The first time you try to speak, your voice is croaky and what sounds like a bubble pops in your throat.

The second time works though. “I’m here. I’m...Hobi...I just...I can’t.” 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the words cause you to start crying once more. But this time, there’s none of the panic and fear behind them. These tears are blazingly hot, your skin prickling from the salt of them while your head pounds from the previous crying and emotional ride you’d just gone through.

This time, your tears were because you simply wanted him there. You wanted to just bury yourself in his arms and try to forget what had happened.

“Okay, okay. I don’t know what’s wrong, but do you think you can go back to work? Or do you need to come home?” The very idea of going back into the office, sitting at your desk and doing all the mindless jobs that you loathe and despise with every fibre of your being fills you with a surge of feelings that makes you gasp in pain, head shaking rapidly.

You can’t, not today. You can’t go back to that, you can’t go back to the thoughts that this is going to be your life. That this is all you’ll ever be. All you’ll ever be worth. That you’ll never be good enough for anything.

“No.” It’s whimpered out, so soft and quiet but carrying a level of pain that you can’t even begin to properly explain to him. He understands though, a quiet sigh of his own as he obviously considers what to do.

“Okay...go in and ask them if you can take the rest of the day off. Tell them you’re ill. That you’ve been throwing up or something, whatever it takes. Are you okay to drive? Or do you want me to come get you?” Glancing over at your car, the Hyundai your dad had helped you to buy that was a dream compared to your previous car, you chew on your lip as you wipe at your face.

“I can drive. I can drive, it’s not far.” 

“Good. Go home and rest. I’ll be home when I can. Do you want to talk about whatever just happened when I do?” Looking down at the ground, you consider it before sniffling quietly.

“Yeah. I think I should.” Your voice cracks on the last word, yet more tears filling your eyes as your lip trembles dangerously. The thought of telling him is terrifying, but you feel like you’ve gone too far down this dark road now. And you don’t want to walk down it alone anymore, not when what you’re finding is so terrifying and scary.

“Okay. I’ll see you at home then.”

-

It was surprisingly easy to get your boss to let you go home early, easier than you thought it would have been. But maybe you looked a little worse than someone who had been throwing up, given the puffiness of your eyes and the overall haggard appearance you’d managed to take on. You didn’t look well, which worked in your favour in terms of being able to go home.

But you didn’t look well because you weren’t well. And you knew this.

As soon as you got home, you’d practically torn off your clothes before slipping on a well worn pair of soft grey leggings and a fuzzy sweatshirt, the material so soft on your body. It’s approaching the end of November and you revel in the warmth it offers you, curling on the couch into a tight ball with your head buried into the velvety Pusheen pillow that Hoseok had bought you a few weeks ago.

The soft padding of tiny paws on the wood floor alerts you to an incoming presence and you smile tiredly when Kasumi jumps up onto the couch with you, chirping at you quietly before butting her head against yours. Gently, you stroke at her fur and sigh as she settles, her head buried firmly into your neck and her small body vibrating as she purrs away happily.

“Are you happy my little purrbaby? Yeah?” You whisper to her, running your thumb over her silken ears before pressing your nose against her sleek fur. “My favourite little girl, aren’t you? A purry baby.”

The next few minutes consist of you just muttering nonsense to her as usual, your hand stroking automatically as you revel in the solid warmth of her against you. She remains where she is, paws flexing open and closed as the she pads at your chest and you can’t help the tiny smile that escapes as she does so.

“I love you, yes I do.” Maybe it’s a sign of how bad of a person you are that the only person you feel even remotely comfortable saying that to is your own cat. A cat who can’t answer back. Though maybe that’s the point. She relies on you for survival, therefore her love is a given.

Other’s though?

Her ears twitch suddenly and her eyes widen, that familiar look of alarm taking over her feline features and causing her to jerk upright. Frowning, you coo to her before realising you can hear the door opening.

A quick glance at the clock tells you that it’s not even 2pm and your brow creases in confusion. You go to question whoever it is, only he appears from the hallway into the room and your throat tightens immediately.

Hoseok isn’t wearing a fancy suit this time, instead just a pair of black jeans with a black button-up, his socks a contrast in white. His work had since changed their dress code policy to smart-casual, hence his jeans. But he wasn’t supposed to finish until 5pm.

“Why are you here?” Your words aren’t nearly as solid as you intended them to be, the sounds shaky and he lets out a tiny sigh.

“You really think I was gonna stay at work for the next few hours after my girlfriend, who hates using the phone, calls me and all I can hear is hyperventilating and crying? And then she’s so not okay that she actually goes home? No way. I’m gonna work the time back later but I felt that you shouldn’t be alone right now.” He makes it all sound so simple, like there wasn’t even a question in his mind about what he’d do.

It chips away at something inside you, a chink in the solid wall of protection you’d built over the years that held back all your deepest and darkest fears and concerns from others. And in an instant, that wall shatters in a tsunami of emotion.

Lips trembling violently while your vision blurs from the tears filling it, you simply open your arms to him and whimper out his name in a tone so broken and lost that it almost makes Hoseok cry just hearing it. Not that you know that, nor can you see the way his face crumples for a moment at seeing you break so quickly.

You don’t see because the tears block your vision of him, but you feel it when he sits on the couch next to you and wraps you in his arms. Without a word, you squeeze your arms around him so tightly, as if you were afraid that if you let go then he’d vanish.

And you let yourself break in the comfort of his embrace, in the safety of presence and the reassurance of his stability. A horrible sound of pure agony escapes your throat, dragged from the deepest depths and a part of you is surprised at it. At how much pain it encapsulates.

Once you start though, you can’t stop and you simply cry into Hoseok’s arms, letting yourself go in a way that you never have before. Exposing your vulnerabilities and all the jagged points of pain inside your psyche that you’d kept hidden for so long, afraid that no one would care or would see them as a sign of weakness if you let them out.

Hoseok doesn’t judge you though, he doesn’t complain or sigh in annoyance. Instead, he spends the next ten minutes simply hugging you so tightly to him, his hands stroking your back in long movements that soothe you and reassure you that he’s here, that he cares. Vaguely, you recognise him whispering things to you but you don’t put enough thought into what he’s saying.

The earlier breakdown you’d suffered had been frightening and painful; the fear of not understanding what was happening properly combining with the gaping hole of self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy. This didn’t feel like a breakdown though. It felt cathartic almost, like each sob that escaped you, each tear that wet Hoseok’s shirt was another weight being lifted off your mind and shoulders.

By the time you finally calm down enough until the tears are silent and the only noise you make is the hiccuped breathing of someone who’s cried so hard their throat and eyes hurt, you feel almost relaxed. Maybe crying was a good thing sometimes, but you knew that it was because you’d come to terms with the fact that you had to talk about your issues and most importantly, you had to reach out to others for help.

Now the room is completely quiet, only broken by the occasional sniffle from you. You’d expected him to start asking questions immediately but he doesn’t, instead just holding you in a protective embrace while you calm down.

Oddly, it makes you feel a little better that he doesn’t freak out or pepper you with questions. His reassuring presence helps to calm your frayed nerves and you find yourself playing with one of the buttons on his shirt, bottom lip pouting out as you realise his shirt is plastered to his chest from your tears.

“I’m sorry about your shirt.” You whisper, voice hoarse and low. There’s no response for a second before he lets out a breathy laugh, warm lips pressing to your hairline affectionately.

“That’s fine. It’s just a shirt,” Hoseok pauses, shifting to hug you in a more comfortable position on the couch. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The way he leaves the question open for you lets you know that he’s giving you an out, a way to turn him down. You know he wouldn’t be particularly happy if you didn’t talk about what had caused you to have such a breakdown, but he would acknowledge your decision.

“I just...I got another rejection.” Fingers smooth at the wrinkles in his shirt, the text from the email running through your mind once more and you can practically feel your spirit sinking again. “I don’t know, it just...it got too much. I know it sounds really stupid and I can’t really explain it all or anything but...it was just too much. Everything has been too much lately and yet I just feel so empty and uncaring.”

Hoseok doesn’t interrupt you, letting you spill out your inner thoughts to him, even if they don’t make a lot of sense. 

“I’ve been...I mean...lately I...I’m not...I’m not okay.” Your voice wavers dangerously, lip trembling and you tighten your hand on the fabric of his shirt. “I just feel...I can’t...I can’t, I just can’t. I don’t feel like I can do this anymore, it’s just so hard. So hard to get up and go to work when I hate my fucking job. It’s like my mind is dying every second in there and my soul is shrivelling up too. But I’m not good enough to get out and I’ll never get out and all I can think is...is this it? Is this going to be my life? Is this all I’ll ever do? Is this all I’ll ever be worth? Is this all I’ll do? And the thought of this being all I do for the rest of my life is...I mean...I just...I can’t Hoseok. I can’t, I can’t do it. I don’t even want to wake up if I have to do this forever.”

The words are rushed from you, blurring together as you feel the deep hysteria and panic rising within you once more. Hands clenching his shirt are shaking while your breath is coming a little faster again and your poor, swollen eyes are stinging from the heat of yet more tears. You’d have thought you had none left to cry.

“It’s like everything is weighing me down, all of it. My job, my lack of career, my finances and just me as a person. It’s all building in my head and I just...I can’t. But at the same time I feel nothing inside. I wake up and wonder why I’m bothering to get up because I have nothing to do, I can’t focus on shows or games or books. I’m lethargic and unhappy and the idea of going out just makes me want to cry. I drove home from the store the other day and the entire time I felt like there was a hive of bees in my stomach, all angry and my heart was racing. I didn’t even know what I was anxious about! That’s not normal and it happens all the time. I’ve tried, for you and my parents and friends but it always comes back. I can’t do it anymore, I can’t.” You’re not entirely sure what you can’t do, but you say it so forcefully that Hoseok simply nods.

He doesn’t speak at first, contemplating what to say and trying to remember what his therapist had discussed with him all those years ago when he’d gone. It was hard, because obviously your case wasn’t like his. But he wanted to help, or at least try and guide you in the right direction. Because you were reaching out, and he wanted to be the one to hold you steady while you fought your way out of the darkness.

“How long have you been feeling like this? I’ve noticed you pulling away recently, I didn’t want to push you on it though.” Hoseok admits, his voice soothing as he runs a thumb along your cheek, wiping your tears away.

Almost childishly, you shrug. “I don’t know. It comes and goes. I always...I hate doing things that make me happy or excited because I always crash after. And the longer my happiness goes on, the harder and further I crash after. It’s like my mind can’t cope with just...being...normal.”

Hoseok shakes his head firmly then, pulling back slightly to get you to look at him. His eyes are worried and his expression is concerned, but you can tell he’s determined. You can also tell that you’ve just said something that he disagrees with.

“Don’t call yourself not normal. At the risk of sounding like some lame quote from the early 2010s, there’s no such thing as normal. You’re just...you’re not okay right now. I think we can both tell that. And there’s nothing wrong with not being okay. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re having mental health problems and I hope you won’t be angry with me for saying it but...this...today...baby I think you need to see a doctor or something. I can’t tell you what will help because I don’t know, and I don’t want to mess it up. But you have to want to get help.”

Looking down at your hands, you sniff quietly as you contemplate what he’s said. As per usual, he’s said it sweetly and in a way that isn’t offensive. The very idea of admitting that you had mental health issues made you quail inside, wanting to tell him that he was wrong and you were fine. 

But he wasn’t wrong...and you weren’t fine. 

“What if they don’t believe me? Or tell me it’s just in my head? Or that I’m just sad or something? And what if work finds out and they get angry at me? People will tell me I’m just faking it or something, looking for attention.” The stereotypes slip from your lips without you realising it but you’re worried.

Despite the push for being more open around mental health lately, you know that people still don’t view it positively. That admitting depression or anxiety can often come with an eye roll or an exasperated sigh. You knew how it went, you weren’t depressed you were just tired or weren’t willing to put in effort and so forth.

But you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be, not when it felt so real and strong.

“Sweetheart, if they think at your work then fuck them. You already hate that place and you’re looking for something new. Don’t let them get to you, you are more important than anyone there. And if they want to act like shit around something as serious as this, then they don’t deserve you. Your doctor should listen, and if they don’t then make them listen. They’re there for you, not the other way around. It’s in your head purely because it’s your mental health and it can be helped. I won’t lie, it’s probably not gonna get cured. But you’ll find ways to cope. And I’ll be here for you. So will your parents and your friends. We care for you and we want you to be okay.” He rubs at your arms then, his touch warm even through the soft material of your sweater.

“I’ve watched you draw into yourself and it’s worried me for a while now. But if you’re willing to reach out to me at your lowest, which I’m going to assume that breakdown was your lowest, then I think you want help. I can’t make it go away, but I can help support you while you get your feet back under you. Will you consider going to the doctor? Please?”

Pushing your head into his neck harder, you sniff hard and pushing the sleeves of your sweater past your hands. Your heart races at the thought of discussing your personal issues with someone you don’t know, but you know Hoseok is right. You need help, you need to reach out.

Swallowing hard, you realise that you need to do what he’s suggesting. You don’t want to get back to that point where you realised you didn’t care if you lived or died anymore. Because you wanted your life to get better. You just didn’t have the tools to pull yourself out of the swamp.

“Okay. I’ll go.” His body relaxes imperceptibly at your agreement and you feel bad, realising how worried he must have been for you. But that worry vanishes when he tilts your head up to his, a sweet smile on his face before he kisses you gently.

“Good. You won’t regret it, I swear. And thank you. For trusting me enough to call me when you were afraid and for telling me now. I want to try and help you anyway I can. I know what it’s like to feel very lost and afraid. I just got angry at the world though. So...please talk to me when you’re not feeling okay, even if you think I’m going to be annoyed or can’t be bothered. Because I’d rather you talk and vent to me than do something else.” And suddenly, you realise he’s got tears in his own eyes.

Reluctant tears you can tell, the way he gives a small smile that’s forced, his dimples showing but no real happiness behind it. Swallowing, your own smile wobbles too as you realise that he must have been so worried.

“I will. I swear. I swear.” His lips press to your forehead, resting there long after he’s finished his kiss and you simply embrace it, absorbing his deep feelings to you that you can tell he has even though he doesn’t say a word. Unsurprising really, because you feel all the positive and warm feelings you have towards him blossoming through the hollowness in your chest.

He’s not going to fix you and you both know that. But you’re surprised to realise that you don’t want him to either. That this is something you have to start yourself. For your own peace of mind but also so that you don’t become reliant on him while pressuring Hoseok with something as precarious as your mental health.

You’ve reached out for help finally, and now you just need to accept the help you’re given in turn.

[lightsandlostbells]

wtFOCK season 3, episode 3 reaction

In this episode, Sander shows up 15 minutes late with croques (I know this joke has to have been made before, sorry)

Just adding again that if you are looking for an all-positive review of this show, this is not it. Please don’t read if you would prefer not to hear negative takes.

Episode 3

Clip 1 - Robbe on the beach

Robbe is sharing a bed with Noor. He’s doing some good physical acting because even just lying there, I can tell how stiff and uncomfortable he is. He wakes up and looks bummed. It’s pretty early and he’s on vacation so you know he really doesn’t want to be spooning with a girl if he’s getting out of bed right now.

Gotta say the detail of Aaron’s ass being half-exposed in his sleep is a detail that made me lol.

Robbe goes to the beach and listens to music. He types a text to his mom that he can’t make it to see her this week because he’s at the seaside, (because he’s supposedly doing a school project with Jen, lmao) but then he deletes it. So perhaps he is feeling guilt over not visiting, or he’s just got mixed feelings and wants to distance himself from his family situation right now.

Clip 2 - FINALLY

Robbe goes back to the house and sees a mysterious dude. It’s only been like 20 minutes since Robbe left the house, so this guy must have just arrived. Don’t know why they didn’t just combine these clips, especially since it would’ve been a nice contrast to get Robbe moody and alone vs. the jolt he receives with a cute boy’s arrival within one clip.

The important thing is that we finally meet the Even of this season, who I’ve been pretending I didn’t know is called Sander. I’m going to repeat what dozens of other people have said and say yes, this is Jack Frost from that one movie in live-action form. 

Sander does a bit where he roasts Robbe about not having breakfast ready and he expected it when he made a reservation; Robbe acts half-amused, half-confused as fuck, as if part of him recognizes it as a windup but he also doesn’t know who this dude is, so maybe he could be for real?

Afterwards Sander is like, let’s go bitch, we’re grabbing breakfast, and he introduces himself. Robbe is still flabbergasted but he follows Sander out the door anyway, possibly compelled by Sander’s charisma, possibly just swayed by a hot guy. He has no idea how important this meeting is in the grand scheme of things. Robbe, your story is finally starting in episode 3!

OK, I like Sander’s intro! It’s in line with Even’s paper towel trick. Sander is getting Robbe’s attention with a dramatic introduction. He made sure to make a memorable first impression. It works not just for Robbe, but for me as a viewer as well. And I like that Robbe was caught off-guard like Isak was and they didn’t instantly fall into banter or anything, because let’s be real, if some strange dude showed up in your kitchen and started talking to you like this, you would be pretty WTF no matter how nice his face is. 

I am not sure if this show will do the thing where Sander has been pining after Robbe for a while before this meeting - we have seen glimpses of Sander so it seems as if he’s seen Robbe before, but if he’s not from the same school as I think is the case, then I wonder how much he really could have developed feelings for Robbe? Even saw Isak the first day of school, so it’s easy to understand that he developed a crush in the time between that and S3 just by seeing Isak doing his thing at school regularly, and he had plenty of time to learn who Isak was. With Sander, it seems like he just saw Robbe randomly, and that makes sense for “hmm, a cute guy” but not really this giant crush on Robbe as a person. 

This is why it would have been good to actually show what Robbe did or made in the graffiti scene, because it would make sense if Robbe drew something that would have intrigued Sander.

Anyway, the larger point is that this scene does make sense if you consider that Sander was waiting for Robbe and this was a planned intro. I assume there is some way that he found out Robbe would be here this weekend. If this is not something Sander expected, then it’s pretty impulsive of him. Though I can totally buy him winging the booking.com bit if that’s his personality. But it makes more sense to me at the moment to imagine that Sander knew Robbe was coming.

Clip 3 - Robbe and Sander at the store

Robbe and Sander are grocery shopping. Sander quickly establishes himself as having an outspoken, confident personality. I do like how instantly his vibe comes across, which is helpful since we’re making up for lost time.

Sander asking Robbe how many hot dogs one eats has some G-rated “Even immediately starts talking about blowjobs” energy. Or maybe it’s just a coincidence and they really are just talking about food, but like. It’s an Even. 

Amber sends them the shopping list full of normal grocery items. Sander is like NOPE, not getting that. Well I hope no one has any dietary restrictions they need to follow, lmao.

Robbe asks Sander how he knows Amber, but Sander gets distracted by the song over the loudspeakers so he doesn’t have to disclose the truth yet. The song is by “Rebel Rebel” by David Bowie. He asks Robbe if he’s a fan and Robbe is like “yeah!” but Sander challenges him to name three of his songs and Robbe is a flop. Again, I do like how forcefully Sander comes across, his personality is evident.

I have to say: out of all the remake Evens, he’s the one who most immediately comes across as a magnetic personality. Granted, he seems to have a very similar vibe to Even whereas some remake Evens have rather different personalities from the original recipe. But Sander does come across as someone you’d meet (or Robbe would meet) and be a little smitten and swept off your feet right away. 

David Bowie is also a good choice for an Even’s musical taste, especially because of Bowie’s sexuality. I guess you could say it’s pretty on the nose, but it still works for me. I don’t know a ton about the origins of Rebel Rebel but it references gender fluidity and sexuality, so it’s feels fitting for an LGBT-centered season.

As a diehard Ronan/Adam shipper (they’re my OTP of OTPs besides Evak) this scene of Sander pushing Robbe on the cart in the store is calculated to appeal to me. Pynch peeps, you know what I’m talking about. /finger guns

As a personal tangent, I also think grocery shopping is one of the best things you can do on a first date to know if you’re compatible with someone. I have been grocery shopping with people who were dull and no fun, and I have been grocery shopping where it’s an adventure in itself. I strongly believe that you can have fun with the right person in even the most mundane situations. 

Back to Robbe/Sander: this part’s really cute! It gives us a sense of who Sander is and it shows them having fun together. They have a comfortable chemistry and I think Robbe’s vibe in this scene hits the right notes of being starstruck and a little over his head, but acclimating to Sander’s OTT personality and being able to relax and have a good time. He’s certainly having more fun than he expected when he woke up this morning. 

The spinning and eventual slow-mo moment to Rebel Rebel! Great! Super effective at catching that feeling of holy shit, sudden butterflies in my stomach? I can’t look away from this person? I think I have a crush?  

Sander scanning Robbe and saying it’s expensive = lmao, genuinely funny.

And I do like the idea of Sander pushing Robbe and it being chaotic and messy as a way to visualize/signify the arrival of him in Robbe’s life as a way to shake it upside down. (Although, lol, I kinda hate them for causing a mess for the retail workers.)

Sander crashes the cart and Robbe into some boxes. After checking to see if Robbe’s OK, Sander plays it cool and walks away whistling. I do love Robbe’s reaction, that we see him trailing Sander and sneaking happy glances at him. Good stuff.

Taken on its own, this is a terrific first meeting, and I can see how this scene would inspire optimism in the season picking up from here. However - and I hate to be a downer because this scene worked for me - it’s the same issue that I’ve said before: we shouldn’t have waited two full episodes for this clip. Though this scene was great and established an easy chemistry, it also wasn’t that personal and didn’t last too long, and now they have to go back and hang with everyone else, so how are they going to continue to bond on their own? They should just go find other errands to do, away from everyone else. 

Clip 4 - Robbe and Sander in the kitchen

Noor is right there in the kitchen with them, but being hungover, is unable to be a third wheel in the way that Emma was to Isak and Even. Amber’s annoyed that they didn’t get anything on the shopping list, Sander shoos her out and says Robbe and he will cook.

Again, this not the same room for intimacy as Evak because they’re not alone! Anyone could walk in at any moment! People were just there! And I think you COULD do something interesting with that, how frustrating it is that everyone else is there, but it doesn’t work so well when it’s like … the first time they meet and they really need that space to get to know each other (considering, for the millionth time, that we are racing to catch up with only just meeting Sander). We really need to either play into the lack of intimacy and adjust the timeline of the relationship accordingly, or they need to manage some extra moments with the two of them to really establish the connection.

They make croques (weren’t bread and cheese on Amber’s list? So they did get something she asked for, heh) and there’s a fair amount of innuendo and suggestion, with the leaning down and leaning toward each other in the tight space. I do really like that and think it’s effective. They notice the chemistry, Sander touches Robbe’s back as he walks by.

More Bowie with Under Pressure. (This would be a really good song choice for Robbe’s POV to illustrate all the shit he’s dealing with.) Sander is very charming, he’s singing and having a good time, he lights up a joint. He opens up a bit about how making croques is a family tradition and asks Robbe if he has any traditions, and Robbe is still withdrawn and doesn’t go into it. Good moment! Robbe’s family is a touchy subject.

Sander licking the joint is quite an Erotique moment for Robbe. I also like that Robbe is clumsy with the croques, seemingly because he’s flustered by Sander’s Sanderness.

I like the Sander actor quite a bit so far. Like I said, he’s super intense and charismatic. He’s also super fucking forward with Robbe, feeding him some croque while they eye fuck, and I’m sorry but that feels way too pointed for this relationship so far The rest of the scene captures the unstated sexual tension but Sander sticking a sandwich in Robbe’s mouth while Robbe stares back is too obvious and feels like they’re trying to sell this really hard in order to make up for lost time, it took me out of the scene. Robbe is tentatively getting more comfortable with Sander, but I don’t buy that he would be that comfortable at this point. It would have been better if they’d stuck to, like, the subtle thrill of sharing a joint (where OMG Sander’s mouth has been?? Yowza).

Britt shows up and she’s Sander’s girlfriend! Oh nooooo!

Except Robbe and Sander met SEVERAL HOURS AGO so this doesn’t really have much of an impact? Isak pining over Even for a week and Googling him and stalking him creates a big buildup both in audience expectations and in Isak’s, whereas Robbe JUST met this dude. We’ve barely had time to form any expectations.

Imagine if you’ve never seen Skam and you’re watching this in real time. You’d be like “Awww, bummer, this guy has a girlfriend, I guess,” rather than “OH SHIT NOOOOOO” because you’ve been following them for a week and watching their conversations and their eye-fucking and getting to know Even through Isak’s eyes. Because you’ve had plenty of time to become attached to this character and because you’ve had time to sink into Isak’s POV and feel his crush on this guy. You feel the stakes of learning that Even has a girlfriend. Robbe learning that Sander is dating Britt is disappointing ... but how disappointing, really? There’s a low level of investment in Sander so far, for both Robbe and for us. I mean, sure, he’s charming, and we’re probably thinking he and Robbe might be cute together, but at most you would have had five hours to get attached at this point. If you look at it one way, this revelation is good because Robbe had only a brief window of time to get his hopes up before learning Sander has a girlfriend, as opposed to Isak who had a full week.

This is where the season’s odd storytelling choices start to fall down. Because there’s a lot about these last few clips that I enjoyed on a micro level. They work as individual scenes. It’s when you think about them on a macro level that the logic and emotional resonance doesn’t hold up. And I think that there are many, many story elements - in wtFOCK and most of the remakes - where a lot of writing only makes sense if you are coming with knowledge of the original show and sort of filling in the blanks here, rather than wtFOCK putting in the work itself.

I also think it’s something of a disappointment because S3 portrayed the experience of developing a crush so beautifully, the desperation to learn more about a person and get close to them, the obsessive focus. wtFOCK is by no means required to do that, but it was such a vulnerable, intimate way to get into Isak’s head that I can’t help but miss the extended crush period for Robbe. We really needed more of his POV.

Robbe decides to cope by getting high. Aha, there’s that Under Pressure for Robbe! 

Actually, it seemed super weird to me that the timestamps had them meeting like 5 hours ago? Because it seemed like they went shopping and went home soon after where Amber inspected the groceries, but apparently there were hours between that, so what were they doing in the meantime? Not anything important, apparently, because we didn’t see it.

Clip 5 - Sad sad Robbe time

The others are playing trivia and Robbe is just social distancing like 10 feet away staring at them while listening to music on his headphones, lmao. Britt has quite the grip on Sander’s neck.

Noor comes over and Robbe asks her about Britt and Sander. Sander studied Visual Arts at I think a different school than Robbe. Imagine how effective this would be if Robbe did this LAST WEEK, like “casually” asked Noor about Sander or something. But of course that would have required the story to be moving forward last week.

Sander stares at Robbe and Noor as they make out. Get back in Robbe’s POV, for fuck’s sake! This isn’t even an impossible moment to have from his POV. Have Robbe and Noor make out, Robbe opens his eyes and spies Sander looking at him, he looks again and Sander has looked away. That creates an element of doubt that will live rent free in Robbe’s head. 

This choice annoys me more and more. Where’s the tension in quite firmly suggesting that actually, Sander is into Robbe right after showing that Sander has a girlfriend? There was soooo much juicy tension squeezed from Isak and the audience not knowing what the fuck was up with Even and Sonja. People forget it now, but as someone who watched OG S3 in real time, there were plenty of viewers who thought Even was just stringing Isak along or doubted the sincerity of his feelings, because the show effectively kept us in Isak’s POV and for many viewers there was room to doubt Even’s intentions. Honestly, we didn’t really get real confirmation of Even’s feeling until episode 9. I just don’t see how it serves the story to a) take us out of our main character’s POV b) to make sure the mysterious love interest is somewhat less mysterious this early.

Clip 6 - Paintball

The squads play a friendly game of paintball, and by that I mean they try to annihilate each other. It’s a little hard for me to tell who’s shooting who since it’s fast and everyone has masks and is dressed in either black or camo, except Aaron in his onesie.

Sander and Robbe end up next to each other. They see Britt on the ground. Sander runs up and shoots Britt several times while she tells him to stop, clearly in pain. Britt yells at him to be normal sometimes and to use his head from time to time. Sander apologizes as Britt runs off.

Robbe and Sander exchange a look like “hmm” and Sander says he thinks they’ve won. He walks off. The music feels … weirdly triumphant?

This scene sits pretty weirdly. I don’t think this clip was pointless, I definitely think it has a point, but … what are they going for here. Thinking about it, I’d say the concept of this scene is good, but the execution feels off. wtFOCK has a real tone problem that becomes apparent later in the season.

I don’t think shooting Britt means Sander is manic, but I DO think part of the intent was to show he’s impulsive/gets carried away/can be OTT. Which is not bad (although there’s some sketchiness abut how this is tied to his mental illness if he’s not manic right now, and about how mentally ill people are dangerous) but it’s his reaction that gets me. Because it’s one thing if he gets carried away and we see him show remorse (which he does, briefly) but then he’s like cracking a joke with Robbe. It would be way more effective if we saw his remorse lingering. Not to mention yeah, he could have hurt Britt! It’s not that Sander has to be flawless, but this is one of our first impressions of him and it’s not great. It might work if you think it’s setting up Sander as something of a dangerous bad boy for Robbe (“you only like bad news” go the lyrics) but I’m not sure how much the show leans into that, especially because Robbe seems happy that they “won” rather than alarmed at what the fuck Sander just did.

But the part that baffles me most is how this matters to Robbe/Sander? Is this supposed to be a cute, flirty moment? A “haha, fuck my girlfriend, I like you instead” moment? Because wow, was it cruel on Sander’s part, and Robbe doesn’t seem that bothered by it. I get that maybe Sander IS supposed to be upset with himself but is brushing it off, but yeah, the offense is just too much for me, when physical harm comes into play. 

IDK, I could get behind the ambiguity of reactions in a scene like this, but there’s something off about the seriousness of what Sander does - which is acknowledged in-clip by Britt’s and Zoë’s reactions - combined with how Robbe and Sander end the clip, as if we ignore those reactions to make it a fun shippy moment. It’s pretty unappealing. We don’t even really see or hear anything about Sander and Britt making up or talking it out, we don’t see any lingering tension between them due to this incident, it’s like this clip was forgotten. Presumably they made up off-screen before the next clip, but in that case, we should have seen Sander run after her to apologize? Where’s the emotional fallout? It doesn’t really stick for Sander, Britt, or Robbe. 

Clip 7 - Bonfire

Robbe is upset with Sander and Britt making out. He goes over to Aaron who is also sitting sadly alone.

Aaron says he doesn’t know how Robbe does it, getting girls, and how he was so chill with Noor in the bathroom. IMO they could’ve ramped up Robbe’s fuckboyness since it didn’t come across that clearly to me, but this is one thing I do like about the potential of Isak and Magnus interaction … the Magnus looking to the Isak for girl advice, making the Isak have to preserve some sort of reputation as a ladies’ man, giving him some cred with his friends that he’s afraid to lose.

Robbe says it’s different because Noor goes to a different school so it wasn’t as bad if she rejected him. But wasn’t she handing out dance performance flyers in the hallway at Robbe’s school? That made me think she was a student there. But IDK how Belgian school works, maybe that’s normal.

Aaron goes over to talk to Amber and makes her a s’more, but Amber walks off because OMG so many calories. Aaron is bummed but Luca takes the s’more and eats it. Uhhh, the obvious buildup here is for Aaron/Luca, wtFOCK writers. She is literally taking and enjoying what Aaron is offering. I sense a connection. 

I’m tickled by Aaron referencing American TV shows when he makes the s’more. His s’more is missing the best part, the cheap melted chocolate, which to be fair would probably have caused Amber to slap him over the calorie count.

This scene is at least from Robbe’s POV as he watches them, thank God.

Clip 8 - Haunted house

The boy squad (who are called the Brrrothers) set up a haunted house. That’s actually a pretty fun scenario. They lock the others in, because teenagers don’t care about fire hazards. But still seems like a great time.

Sander helps the others through the window, what a gentleman.

Aaron and Amber have the cliché “fall down into each other” moment so I suppose that’s the start of their romance. Now she holds his hand. Boo, no Luca/Aaron … at least Aaron/Amber is still better than Basile/Daphne so far.

They climb onto the roof to seek a treasure, which turns out to be alcohol. There’s a rooftop party, people drinking and smoking and having a good time. Robbe and Sander share a Look before Sander and Britt get cozy.

I mean, again … would’ve been better if they hadn’t spoken like. Twice.

Clip 9 - Aaron throws away his shot

Robbe is grumpy on the way back from the haunted house, which he calls Jens and Moyo’s ego trip. I think he’s mostly just sour about Sander and Britt, but also he could be annoyed that he wasn’t involved, although that mainly seems like it would be Robbe’s fault for distancing himself.

Aaron valiantly offers to check the house for murderous ghosts before they go back inside.

See, I KNEW Aaron was going to pull some shit with a practical joke when he went inside, I just didn’t expect him to pretend to get SHOT. The dedication… it’s in very poor taste, though.

Of course it’s a prank, but Amber acts very concerned. You know, this is actually a good way to show how Aaron is immature and keep the Amber/Aaron pairing apart … compared to Basile/Daphne where it was just nonstop sexual harassment, here we see Aaron being sweet and thoughtful with Amber and potentially making progress with her, and then ruining it by being an insensitive teenage dumbass. But he can still grow into more of a mature kid and prove himself to Amber that way.

Aaron seems regretful of it, but Moyo and Jens are like YOU DA MAN. I regret to announce that this boy squad kinda sucks so far.  At least Aaron seems like he might have some character development, judging by his reaction here.

That was nicely done as a way to create conflict with the Aaron/Amber relationship, and establishing some mutual interest before showing where Aaron needs to grow as a person, even if I’m like ... we really got to stick to Robbe’s POV/story, man. 

Clip 10 - Another prank

Moyo and Jens ask Robbe to go get them beers, and it’s a prank and Aaron’s in the freezer so I guess Aaron did not learn anything, never mind. 

Echoing what I said above: I’m absolutely not expecting the boy squad to be perfectly well-behaved rational empathetic adults, and it’s not like this prank is some deeply cruel thing, but there is just. So much. Of the shouting, pranking, casual sexism, crude comments, and general obnoxious behavior. I’m really trying to keep in mind that Isak’s boy squad was also full of the horny gross talk about girls at the beginning, and that it was a necessary part of showing Isak’s alienation from his peers.  Or that by now on OG S3 we had several awesome moments from Isak’s squad that we haven’t reached yet because the season’s paced a few episodes behind. Still. Ugh. Maybe it’s the shouting? I feel like this boy squad is ... shoutier ... than the other boy squads. Making them prankmasters is also not helping. I think you have to walk a careful line between making them realistically flawed straight dudes who alienate Isak with their talk of girls, and making them screaming caricatures who are all “fuck girls get pussy hot chicks sex sex sex.” There’s a lack of warmth and innocence to balance it out. We need some indication soon that these guys are going to be there for Robbe when shit goes down. 

Robbe snaps at them and storms off, and Noor follows him. WOW, it would be good to see ROBBE’S POV of this scene!!!! What happened next!!! 

Nope, the clip ends here!!!!

Clip 11 - Halloween

Everyone’s dressed up and preparing to go to a Halloween party. The girls are cute putting on makeup and chatting about necrophilia. There’s a comment where Luca says a guy sounded like “a begging Romanian” and errrrr, I did a bit of a double take at that. It’s not my culture or language so I don’t want to talk out of my ass, but I thought this was generally considered to be an offensive thing to say (although one that people frequently say anyway due to prejudice). What was the fandom reaction to that line? 

People are dancing at the party. Apparently Jens and Jana are friends with benefits. Lol, at least Jana is not FWB with their P-Chris, that guy sucked.

Amber’s still mad at Aaron, understandably. Moyo cheers up Aaron on his recent romantic failure, which is nice and a much kinder moment than 99% of the material they’ve given Moyo thus far, and they go look for other girls.

I do love all the Halloween makeup. Look at Robbe’s hair!

Zoë checks her phone because I guess Senne drama is gonna happen.

Noor tags a wall with R+N in a heart, oh dear.

Robbe stares sadly at Sander and Britt dancing. Noor tries to get him to dance because the song is great, Robbe says he’s more of a Bowie fan and namedrops Changes. OK lmao, again, this doesn’t work so well that Robbe has suddenly become a Bowie expert when he’s been at the seaside the whole time. I know it’s silly when Isak starts acting like a Nas expert, but there was enough time for him to look up Nas between when Even mentioned him and when he talked to Emma about him to gain some basic knowledge of Nas. I guess Robbe could’ve been looking up Bowie in the last few days when he’s brooding alone, but lol, he’s also been kinda busy. Or Robbe is just bullshitting about Bowie, but the fact he was able to name a Bowie song when he couldn’t earlier in the episode suggests that he did look into Bowie. 

Now there’s the Call Your Girlfriend moment where Robbe makes out with Noor while staring at Sander, then Sander stares back, eyefuck, blah blah.

I gotta say. I’ve seen various takes on Call Your Girlfriend scene by now. And what I notice - at least from my recollection - is that the remakes tend to focus more on the actual eyefucking. Because the OG scene doesn’t actually have Isak and Even staring at each other, going back and forth, for a while. Most of that scene is about Isak’s longing. Isak dances with Emma, looks at Even with Sonja. He kisses Emma, looks at Even kissing Sonja. It’s about Isak wanting Even but instead being with a girl. When Even looks back it’s not this long, extended thing! Because it’s not really about the eyefucking. It’s just confirmation, for both Isak and for us, that we are not imagining this chemistry between them. It’s a shot of hope that Even also wants Isak despite mixed signals. That even though Even is passionately kissing his girlfriend, he’s thinking about Isak. And then Isak closes his eyes - he doesn’t eyefuck Even through three verses and the bridge, he closes his eyes - and we don’t need to be told to realize he’s imagining he’s kissing Even instead. 

First of all, the most effective part of the CYG scene is the timing. The song is perfectly timed and Isak’s reactions are perfectly edited to make us feel that frustration and longing that Isak does. It’s a way more vulnerable scene that most of the remakes seem to realize. Most of the scene is Isak looking without that look being reciprocated. And Even’s returned look comes just as we’re losing our minds (plus it matches the on-the-nose lyrics, lol). The endless eyefucking in the remakes isn’t that special or interesting in terms of delivery. 

Second, here’s the thing: I think we forget, since we know that Evak are endgame, that at this stage during S3′s real-time run, it wasn’t certain that they were endgame. In fact, many people weren’t even sure Even liked Isak back! I was lucky enough to jump into Skam right before the first kiss, and there was so much doubt, it was crazy. Even and Isak shared an awesome afternoon together, but Even brought his girlfriend to this party, he’s still dating her. Isak is doubting whether this thing can go anywhere with them, if Even even is interested in him like that. And Even looking at him during CYG IS the confirmation that Even’s into him. It’s the confirmation for the audience that we didn’t imagine Even’s attraction to Isak. Whereas in wtFOCK, Sander is like openly staring at Robbe when Robbe isn’t watching, and the show breaks Robbe’s POV to make sure we know this. Sander is feeding him croques by hand while they lock eyes. He’s being much flirtier and the show is not hiding his interest. wtFOCK introduced Britt as an obstacle to this potential relationship, but does she really feel like one when Sander has been communicating his interest all along? Is there any doubt he likes Robbe? Not to mention Sander was just introduced this episode, and there simply isn’t the buildup, the time to weigh in and question his motives, the investment in whether he likes Robbe or not. So the tremendous release of tension in this scene is just not the same, because the tension isn’t there to begin with. 

The OG Call Your Girlfriend clip is not about two guys who are hot for each other challenging each other to look away. The clip is about vulnerability and longing, and that vibe has been missing from sooooo many of the adaptations. Like anything in the remakes, change is not inherently bad. Change can provide for some interesting and thoughtful material. But I don’t think the remakes always realized when they’re making a change. On the surface a scene will be similar to OG, but the emotional buildup, the timing, the tension, the symbolism, etc. will be very different, and if you’re not aware of how even the littlest change can alter the meaning of a scene, then the scene can fall flat.

Clip 12 - End of trip

Everyone’s packing up to go home, Amber calls out the boys for sitting there and not cleaning (she’s right!)

Robbe helps Sander with the empty bottles. Sander asks about Robbe and Noor if they’re doing well. Robbe says yeah and then asks about Sander and Britt, Sander says it’s been “ups and downs” with mostly downs lately. Ups and downs could also refer to bipolarity, though I don’t know if I’d jump to Sander having “mostly downs” mentally just yet.

Sander says he seems to get on her nerves lately, and they’ve been together for half a year. Okay sooooo … they’re way less serious than Even and Sonja, and Sander has much less to lose by breaking up with her. I mean. Do they not see where, emotionally, this removes a lot of Even’s conflict in OG, and presumably much of Sander’s conflict in this version? It mattered that Sonja had been with Even for years. It mattered that he was used to her taking charge. It mattered that they’d sunk so much time into this relationship and survived such rough patches. Unless there was a really really drastic event in Sander’s life like right when he and Britt got together, that she was instrumental in helping him face, it seriously cannot compare to what Even and Sonja went through. He asks Robbe what he would do, stay or go.

He reaches around Robbe, getting sorta touchy feely, Robbe steps away. 

Sander says maybe he (Sander) is scared he’ll never find someone, someone who’ll love him. Tension between him and Robbe as they consider each other. This insight is good to understand Sander, at least.

Robbe says he thinks Sander will find someone like that, Sander asks where, Robbe says he should meet new people, Sander says “on a weekend trip with strangers?” Robbe is like “...yes.” (Did you get to know each other? Did you really?)

They lean in for a kiss, but then Luca shows up to take out the trash so the moment is ruined, Sander walks off.

SIIIIIIGH this could have been a good scene if they like … developed this relationship or didn’t pace this story so weirdly. On top of the rushed Sander/Robbe development, the buildup to this scene on its own is odd. In OG, the kitchen almost-kiss happens right after the Call Your Girlfriend moment where they lock eyes, after Even stares at Isak across the room. There is palpable tension in the kitchen because they’re basically riding a high together. This is like the morning after their version of the CYG, which should have been an “aha! he likes me back!” moment for Robbe, but instead the momentum and sexual tension just kind of paused and consequently this scene almost feels random, like I felt the contrivances to put them in the same situation as Isak and Even here. (Think about it: Was there a reason this scene had to be the next morning instead of later that night? What happened after that eyefucking clip, did Robbe and Sander just go about their night like NBD?) The CYG clip and following kitchen scene felt like a clear example of cause and effect; the wtFOCK equivalents felt more like they were hitting arbitrary points in the OG rather than feeling fitting to its story.

I just realized we got like NO insight into Robbe’s sexuality crisis this episode, either, the way we did with Isak in episode 3. And maybe we’ll get some of it in the future, but I do think it weakens the story not to have any of that at this juncture. We’re three out of 10 episodes and we’ve barely scratched the surface of our protagonist’s main conflict this season, which is about his sexuality.

HOW I WOULD REWRITE THE EPISODE:

Introduce Sander sooner, for fuck’s sake.

Okay, that ship has sailed, moving on. Have the grocery scene go on longer, or rather, have them go somewhere after the supermarket, like they decide to take a detour to a park or something and go hang out and talk, to the point where Amber starts texting them like “Where the fuck is the food?” Show Robbe unwinding just a little, talking about his own interests, his own taste in music. It’s understandable that he might not open up about the deep’n’heavy stuff yet, but perhaps in either this scene or another one later this week, Sander asks him a family-related question and Robbe doesn’t answer with his whole sad backstory, but he gives a little, maybe has a fond memory of his mom, a tradition they had when he was younger. We see this little happy/sad moment and it’s like something about Sander compels him to open up and we get the complexity of his relationship with his mom, that it’s not all good or bad.

Instead of Sander shooting Britt excessively in the paintball scene, have him and Robbe team up and strategize for a while. We see they work well together, oho. They’re having a lot of fun. And maybe Sander DOES shoot Britt but it’s not this prolonged close-range thing, it’s just him being caught up in the moment as he and Robbe work together. He shoots her (again, it’s a little OTT and enough to make her upset but not quite as bad as in the filmed scene) and she runs off and we see him have an “oh” moment. Oh right, I got caught up being with this guy I like and forgot I have a girlfriend. He feels seriously remorseful and runs after Britt. And maybe when Sander shoots Britt, Robbe has a moment of “!!!”, maybe Sander likes him Like That after all! But then Sander runs after Britt and they kiss and make up because it’s just a paintball game, after all, and Robbe is like, oh, right. It’s just paintball.

This episode really convinces me how vital episode 2 is, even before Mekke øl, in establishing both Even as a character and the Isak/Even dynamic. We get why Isak likes him even before they speak again. It’s so beautiful and honest, with Isak checking out Even’s video, searching for him on social media, that desperation … and then how much R+J hits Isak in the feels. The equivalent would be if Robbe was listening to David Bowie on his earbuds and having a big moment. So er, why didn’t they just ... do that? Robbe is sitting alone listening to David Bowie and watching Sander and Britt be cuddly, and there’s this feeling of longing and being close to Sander via the music while at the same time being so far away. It might be too obvious and faithful to OG, but it would also, you know. Probably be effective. It is also set-up for Robbe talking about how he’s a Bowie fan to Noor.

Have Sander talk to Robbe after Robbe flips out on his friends after the prank! Maybe Sander calms him down by doing a weird Sander thing! Maybe Robbe confides a bit about his shitty home situation or his crappy friends so he and Sander connect on a deeper level! But the prank clip ended immediately after Robbe stormed off, and for some reason the show was like nah, it’s not important after that, even though it was a prime opportunity for good, insightful content into Robbe’s head, or a way to let Robbe and Sander bond some more. 

If they cannot talk directly, how about some indirect moments where they connect, other than paintball? We get some stares at each other but those could be structured to show off more of a connection. Their eyes meet when something funny happens. Robbe or Sander are Jim Halperting at each other when Aaron or Amber says something ridiculous, like can you believe this shit? Everyone’s sitting around listening to music and Sander goes and puts on a Bowie song and Robbe smiles to himself.

(Not that they needed to do movie references in this version, but they should have totally gone with Labyrinth references for Robbe/Sander, just saying. I’m not even sure how it would work thematically, I just think it’d be delightful.)

(OR VELVET GOLDMINE, aka “Todd Haynes wrote and filmed David Bowie/Iggy Pop fanfiction where Ewan McGregor and Christian Bale fuck on a rooftop.” God I love that movie.)

In the haunted house, have Robbe and Sander like ...touch, accidentally, or grab each other out of fear, or do one of those cliché “we find ourselves close together, breathing hard and staring at each other” moments. I don’t care! Just give us stuff to work with! Like there even IS a split second moment where Robbe is climbing out of the window and Sander offers him a hand, it’s just not played for any drama or tension or emotional reaction - I mean, wtFOCK are you doing, wtFOCK writers? 

There is a glaring flaw with this episode, in that there were SO many opportunities to actually have Robbe and Sander interact throughout the episode, and yet overall the potential was totally wasted.

Consider that Isak and Even went to the same school, but they were in different years and didn’t share any classes. So when, for example, Isak hangs out with Even in Mekke øl, I can easily buy that Isak doesn’t see him again until Even returns the snapback. Or that he doesn’t see Even after the snapback scene until the neon party. Therefore, I feel like I’m seeing all the essential moments of Isak’s interaction with Even, I am getting the “full story” with Evak and sufficient evidence to try to piece together what Even’s deal is. 

Robbe and Sander were living under the same roof for days. This is a drastic departure from the original. Realistically speaking, there would have been so, so many more opportunities for interaction, or moments where we could’ve gained insight into that developing attraction. Sander and Britt would’ve been sleeping in the same bed at times, right? How did Robbe react to that? Could we have seen his jealousy? Was there ever a time when Robbe was coming out of the bathroom and he bumped into Sander and it was awkward? Or when someone else left a room and Robbe found himself alone with Sander, and he didn’t know what to say? Did Robbe try to avoid Sander the entire time? Did he try to talk to him but Noor or Britt walked in? Did Sander try to talk to Robbe? Was there any interaction between them besides what we were shown on screen? Did Robbe get up and sit on the beach listening to music and Sander joined him and they shared headphones? Did Robbe go outside one night just to get away from Noor in his bed and Sander was also sitting on the porch and they shared a joint and talked about stuff? Eh? Ehhh???

The problem is that I don’t believe that we were shown the “full story” of Robbe and Sander this week. I can’t believe that because, logically speaking, there would have been way, way more interactions between them even if they were actively trying to avoid each other. For whatever reason, wtFOCK decided to have Robbe and Sander meet at the seaside and spend a week in the same house. Okay. But despite the opportunities that scenario provided to really catch up and develop the hell out of the Robbe/Sander relationship after a delayed start, the show just didn’t do that. And I do feel cheated, not just because it’s rushed and lazy, but because it doesn’t even make sense. Obviously wtFOCK cannot film every minute they were around each other, but it sure as hell could’ve given us more substantial content than it did. 

Even if you want to emphasize how they can’t really be alone with each other because they’re with almost 10 other people including their girlfriends ... fucking run with that, man. Milk it for all it’s worth. Make us feel how frustrating it is that they’re not alone, that Robbe is paranoid about getting too close to Sander in case everyone can tell he’s got a crush. Or show them in a scene with other characters, but they’re interacting in an indirect way that makes it seem like they’re the only two people in the room. Their first clip and the almost kiss at the end of the episode is the only time when I really felt that tension at all, and I use “tension” loosely in the case of the almost kiss.

We also have little information this season on Robbe’s specific sexuality crisis, and that’s also hurting the narrative. I’m aware that the next episode dives into some of the clips that OG Skam got to in its episode 3, so I don’t want to harp on it too much now ... but I do have some basic questions, such as: where is Robbe at with his sexuality right now?

We have gotten very little introspection on him thinking about being gay, or what it means to be gay. We did not have the big crush fixation on Sander that Isak got on Even: Googling him, looking him up on social media, trying to find out everything about him. We did not have Robbe taking gay tests online. Yet he goes from meeting Sander to trying to kiss him within days.

And I think the lack of sexuality crisis further diminishes the already weak tension of the episode. If Robbe was more strongly dealing with his sexuality, then I would be able to accept him falling for Sander so fast and so hard a bit more easily, to the point of almost kissing him, even if their emotional connection wasn’t really established. But he hasn’t been given the space to do that. He hasn’t been given the space to even think about being gay or what that means. So he’s supposedly going from internalized homophobia to almost kissing Sander, with none of the introspection shown on screen. Why? What is running through his head?

So obviously, in rewriting the episode, let’s set up some actual sexuality conflict with Robbe. Maybe he’s trying to look up gay stuff online while he’s locked himself in the bathroom or when everyone else is asleep at night, or he’s trying but unfortunately he’s paranoid people are looking over his shoulder, or the boy squad grabs his phone as a prank and he’s terrified they’ll see that he was searching “how to know if you’re gay.” Maybe other people start talking about a sexuality-related topic, a gay celebrity, something like that, and Robbe’s reaction matters - like he makes an ignorant comment and someone schools him, or he makes a downright offensive comment and someone chews him out. Someone makes a gay joke and we see how it makes Robbe squirm. Someone makes a gay joke and then gets called out on it and we see how it makes the wheels turn in Robbe’s head.  Have Amber or Noor or whoever make a boneheaded comment about gay people and Sander schools them so we see Robbe get a HMMM moment. HMMM, does Sander like dudes? HMMM, maybe I should reconsider my opinions on gay people? I don’t know, man! Literally! Anything! 

Maybe have his advice to Aaron be more obviously bad? More fuckboyish? We see him overcompensating for his sudden Sander feelings by doling out some uber-heterosexual manly man advice to Aaron about how to impress a girl. Aaron is like, are you sure that’s a good idea? Robbe is like, pffft, obviously, what, are you gay? Are you too gay to make a move on Amber? Show her what’s what. This leads Aaron to do something very stupid and insulting and sexist with Amber, which leads to Amber getting mad at Aaron and Aaron getting mad at Robbe for Robbe’s dumbass advice. Maybe Jens and Moyo jump in because God knows we need some good moments from them, and they’re like, seriously, Robbe? Why did you think that was a good idea? Robbe gets mad and storms off. 

To some degree I’m like … well, what IS Robbe’s problem with Sander dating Britt, really? He met this hot and cool guy, but a few hours later learned the hot guy had a girlfriend. It sucks, but what is pulling him in so hard and so fast other than Sander being so hot? It’s a disappointment, but is it this truly devastating thing? He doesn’t know much about Sander, they’ve had so much less of a connection than Isak and Even. They had one fun morning, basically. It’s true that crushes aren’t rational and that a teenager can fall for someone based on crumbs and hotness, I fully realize you can’t turn off your romantic feelings like a faucet. But the show didn’t put in the work of making me believe in the strength of those romantic feelings in the first place. The fact that it is realistic for teenagers to have shallow crushes does not mean that I have to accept weak writing to fill in the blanks for this romantic connection that is supposed to be a powerful love story. Actually, let me bold that and rewrite it as a general rule: The fact that something can be realistic does not mean we have to fill in the blanks in order to make up for weak, lazy writing. 

I know that Isak and Even didn’t have a TON of interaction before episode 3, but they definitely had more, and Isak had time to research Even and develop a crush him based on what he found: he learned a bit about Even’s hobbies and interests, he was touched by a piece of art that Even loved. They bonded, they BOTH opened up - we saw Isak melt a little and banter whereas Robbe hasn’t really loosened up with Sander, except running around the grocery store (oh, and letting him stick a croque in his mouth, I guess). In the kitchen scene after getting groceries, for example, Robbe basically says nothing noteworthy, nothing to give either us or Sander a better understanding of him, or an appreciation of his sense of humor. There’s no real banter. If you watch the Robbe/Sander scenes, it seems like Sander dominates them, and that’s great for learning about Sander as a character, not so much for feeling like they’re mutually connecting. And if they want to portray Robbe as shy or awkward around Sander, I get it. But I don’t get where the emotional connection comes in, and frankly I don’t feel like I know much about Robbe as a person. 

So here’s my suggestion: Don’t do the almost kiss.

I know, I know, it’s a Skam S3 staple. But wtFOCK has really not earned this moment. We’re not in dire need of confirmation that Sander likes Robbe because wtFOCK is making it obvious. The tension is not developed enough to merit an almost kiss, Robbe’s sexuality journey is not far along to make it super believable. If they’re kissing next week for real, just let that happen without the episode 3 interrupted kiss. 

If you do want an almost kiss, maybe one or both of them is a little drunk? Or a lot drunk. Like, noticeably tipsy. Their inhibitions are lowered. I could buy that, especially if Robbe has a morning after freakout. oh god i was drunk and about to throw myself at sander!!!!! OR hahaha we were pretty drunk so it didn’t mean anything ... unless...? So long as there’s some effect on Robbe.

Because it’s a Skam remake, we probably do need a big end-of-episode clip, though. A turning point. Personally, I would be fine with just some smoldering unresolved sexual tension that doesn’t go as far as an attempted kiss. (I mentioned above that I am a diehard shipper of Ronan/Adam from The Raven Cycle and let me tell you, you do not need an almost kiss to get across the sexual tension. Once upon a time I wrote a draft of a post charting their relationship development through all their intense stares.) Perhaps Sander and Britt start fighting, Sander walks off, Robbe finds him or maybe he finds Robbe and they’re like, sitting together on the beach, and they have this personal and possibly subtext-laden conversation, or maybe this is when Robbe finally opens up about something personal (like he mentions when his parents used to fight, IDK). They don’t touch. Or maybe their knees brush. They stay perfectly still and don’t lean in. But they look at each other and don’t look away until someone calls for them or comes to collect them, and that’s how the moment is ruined and the spell is broken. That would be enough for me.

Maybe we could end on a non-dramatic note and Robbe and Sander end up sharing earbuds and listening to a David Bowie song. Or a song by someone that Robbe likes and wants to share with Sander, IDK. We leave them staring at the beach and trading surreptitious glances and catching feelings. A real butterflies in the stomach scene.

This also would have been a great episode to hint at Sander’s mental illness. You could show Britt hovering and telling him not to drink or smoke, you could have Robbe walking in as Sander is taking his medication (but obviously he doesn’t know what type of meds they are yet). You could have the suggested ending fight between Britt and Sander contain veiled references to his mental illness because Britt thinks that Sander was skipping his meds or he was doing something that she thought was a red flag. Robbe overhears them arguing but again, he doesn’t realize the real context. 

I felt like Noor was kind of in the background for this episode, and look, I thought she was overused in the first two episodes, but in this one, her presence would have been more useful for Robbe’s storyline, such as having her interrupt a Robbe/Sander moment, or showing us that she’s growing frustrated with Robbe’s lack of attention to her. 

Stay in Robbe’s POV, I beg you. Do this one simple thing. It’s OK to give random scenes outside his POV from time to time (like the girls doing their Halloween makeup) but anything relevant to his arc should be from his eyes only, and anything not relevant to his arc needs to be managed carefully so it doesn’t suck up too much screen time from his story.

I’ve been looking at the social media that was posted for this season, but I don’t really have a ton to say about it. wtFOCK seems pretty active with the characters’ Instagram accounts, so I commend them for that. So far the text messages don’t seem to be adding a ton to Robbe’s story - I specify Robbe’s story because a lot of them are not even texts that involve him, lmao. Like there’s a text between Zoë and Senne that effectively sets up trouble in that relationship, and it’s way more enlightening than texts that actually involve Robbe.

I think there’s legit potential with this cast. I like all the girls, I think Sander’s actor has some good onscreen presence… even though I don’t care for how the boys are written, I think they have potential. It’s just frustrating when you see the potential being squandered even more than if there were little potential to start. 

Just to add, like I said above, this isn’t my culture or language, and I know that I’m missing context. Let me know if there’s anything I didn’t get on account of not being a teenager in Belgium.

[sabrinamichele]

2019: The Year of Love, Love Lost, and Paris

     I know it’s time. Time to finally open up and talk about what’s been happening in my life. I know that I don’t have to share, but every time I try to move past it, I continue to feel drawn to share this. I know that in sharing this, like the countless times I have shared before, I will find myself better for having opened up. So, to be clear—this is not a completely selfless act—but it doesn’t make sharing it any easier. So, I’m ready to talk about dating, about love, and the heart break that 2019 brought me. I feel strongly that I need to preface this piece with the understanding that these words, thoughts and feelings, while they are mine, I know that by sharing them I may hurt someone. My intention is not to be mean or to hurt someone, but by being so candid, and by sharing my truth, I recognize that I very well might. I think there will always be that risk, and if you are on the receiving end of that, I am sorry. With that said, I want to be as honest and real as I can, because this isn’t the space for fakeness, or for pretense. This is where real truths, even when they’re hard, come out and vulnerability is found. So, in the spirit of sharing, *takes a breath* here goes...

     While I have dated for the past five years, I have, for the most part, remained pretty mum on the details. This hasn’t been done because I didn’t want to share, but, more or less, because I frankly didn’t know how to. My dating/love life has often, in hindsight, felt like learning how to drive a car: definitely with its starts and stops, plenty of awkwardness, some wrong turns made, and so much to learn. (Yes, this analogy truly describes how dating as an adult for the first time in your thirties after being married for eleven years truly feels like. *laughs*) Needless to say, I did not know how to navigate it very well, let alone to start opening up about topics like dating, sex, love, and heartbreak. So, after five years later, I think I’m finally ready to share. To be clear—I absolutely do not have it all figured out. I am not perfect, and I definitely have made my fair share of mistakes (yup, still human). But I also finally acknowledge that that doesn’t mean I don’t have something valuable to share. I don’t know, frankly, what the sharing is going to look like, but I am ready to start. As I have with every single thing I have written here up until now, I share with the hope and intention that in doing so it might help someone else. I truly believe it’s this shared humanity—the realness and vulnerability that exists in sharing what is real in our lives, and often times hidden away—that this is so incredibly attractive, because it is so rare, and it’s also where real connection takes place. So, with that intention, I promise to be real, honest, and vulnerable as hell.

“The mark of a wild heart is living out the paradox of love in our lives. It’s the ability to be tough and tender, excited and scared, brave and afraid—all in the same moment.”

— Brené Brown, Braving the Wilderness

     When I think about the past five years, and trying to navigate dating, this quote feels so incredibly true and relevant in my life. The ability to, despite everything that has happened in your life up to this moment, meet the next moment and person with fresh optimism and hope for what might be. The ever-optimistic question of, “What if?”  Trust me when I say I know all too well what it is to be equal parts excited and scared. That is where I was a little over one year ago: Trying to date...again. Despite the heartache and the disappointment, and all the frustrations that go along with online dating—I was willing to try again because, deep down, I genuinely wanted to find someone, even if all my previous attempts had failed not ended the way I had hoped. Can I just take a moment to commiserate with anyone that’s reading this (male or female) who has also felt the pain and frustration of online dating? Yes, it can suck—and yes, people can suck—so you’re not alone in having mixed feelings about it (yes, I’m making some assumptions here, but I feel safe in making them). Goodness knows that I have had enough iterations with the dating apps, both love/hate, and moments where I swear “Never again!!” With that said, I think we can all—okay, fine—most of us can agree that they are a tool, and in today’s society of disconnection, they are a very helpful tool for connecting people; so, if you can get past the crap and frustration, they can be a positive. (Notice the emphasis on can here; I didn’t say they always are! *laughs*) This is at least the reason (and justification) for their reappearance in my life last year.

     This is how I started dating again, and how I met him—the man who would become my boyfriend last year. (Trying hard to not use names here—ever.) By and large, he was the most significant event last year—significant in many ways, but I think context helps to clarify why he was a significant event in my life. To back up a bit—dating has been incredibly hard for me in the wake of my divorce—there have been many men I have “dated,” in a sense, but often times I have, in the early stages of dating been too afraid of the labels, and the commitment, to even consider calling it a relationship, let alone calling someone my “boyfriend.” Before him, I have only had two relationships I could truly classify as truly “dating,” and only one I think would agree that we were boyfriend/girlfriend—exclusive, at the very least. Trust me—so many labels, so many new hurdles to navigate—so dating him was significant in that we both jumped in rather quickly, and also fell pretty quickly for each other. It was the first person, post my ex-husband, to tell me that he loved me, and to also ask me to be his girlfriend. I’m aware that, to many, that may sound cheesy, even juvenile, but here’s the truth: despite all the hurt and frustrations I’ve had with the opposite sex—deep down, I am a romantic at heart. A romantic with an insanely big heart who wants to fall in love again. (Yeah, I just admitted that.)

     So, I fell hard. I fell in love with all the firsts: the way it felt when I was around him—it felt exactly how it had, falling when you are young—the way you get excited to hear someone’s voice over the phone for the first time, the first time they hold your hand, the first kiss, the way they look at you...we were like two kids, and it felt incredibly special. I share all of this because I think it’s important to reflect—to look back and smile knowing I got to have that again, to experience having love, and a boyfriend, again...I want to be intentional in saying that because, if you’re like me, when something like that ends, it is incredibly easy to demonize someone, to focus on only the hurts, and to forget all of the good parts. I hope that you don’t.

     Suffice it to say, we did not last. Much like a candle that burns hard and bright, then just as quickly burns out...that was how we seemed to be, unfortunately. The man I fell in love with...well, I don’t know what happened to him, honestly. All the emotion, the vulnerability, and amazing connection I felt in the beginning, just...disappeared. I felt it most acutely on our first trip away together. I had been trying to communicate with him about it, without much success—and then the night before our trip, when I tried to talk to him about it again, the message I got back was, basically, “I don’t know what to tell you. This is how it’s going to be,” In my head, what I heard was something to the effect of, “Tough shit.” I was dumbfounded. I was trying to connect with him on this lack of connection, to discover the “why,” and met with, well, nothing. It was incredibly hard hearing that as we were about to go away for our first trip together. Trying to have a romantic weekend with someone who is not emotionally connected with you, or even trying to be, well...it’s a good recipe for a disaster, which is what that weekend was. I tried to make the best of it, but I found myself reminded of how disengaged my ex was with me and it, frankly, scared the shit out of me. In hindsight I wish I had had more courage. Courage to have a real conversation on the real disconnect we were having that weekend. But it felt like every time I tried, it was like trying to talk to someone who spoke Greek, and there was no place for understanding or vulnerability there. I came back not really knowing how to proceed, but knowing we definitely still needed to talk about it. After I made multiple attempts to initiate talking about it with him, I was met with only short texts back, and several blow offs instead of actually talking to me in the week following our trip. I felt miserable, sick to my stomach, and only an escalating sense of desperation to have this awful feeling end. I felt like I had been taken to this incredible high in our relationship, to then be dropped off the edge of an emotional cliff. Without a partner willing to communicate, who literally just disappeared after an uncomfortable first weekend away, I just felt desperate to have my pain end. Less than a week from my birthday, desperate to do what I thought was best, I ended it—after which I promptly bawled my eyes out. (Yeah. I’m being painfully honest here.) In hindsight, I can see that we weren’t meant to be, but the truth is, it, and he, still meant a lot to me. I have had well-meaning girlfriends even try to convince me that I didn’t actually love him, “No, not really.” Well I am here to say that I did love him, and that I don’t regret it. Any of it. As hard as that breakup was for me, I will always be grateful for loving him. I will always be grateful to have him show me what it should really look like...even if it didn’t last. To have someone show you that you are worthy of pursuing, worthy of going on romantic dates with, worthy of romance, and, ultimately, worthy of love...I am honestly grateful for all of it.

     With all of that said, the end of “us” left me in a very dark place for a time. I felt betrayed and I felt rejected. Rejection’s sting is something I am far, far too familiar with these past five years, but it always hurts more when I’ve invested more. I am not necessarily proud of how I chose to handle my hurt and pain this time, but I embraced that I was in a “dark and twisty place,” as I called it, and I set my intentions with men accordingly. I didn’t want anything more than something of a casual nature, which suited my needs, and my heart, just fine during this time. I don’t look back and applaud this; it was simply the way I chose to handle the hurt I was feeling at the time, and I want to be honest about that.

     If you’re still reading, I applaud you. My dating/love life is not for the faint of heart or those only inclined to read short stories. Without further ado, this is when someone new came into my life. I feel the need to pause and say that I do feel badly—he met me smack dab in the beginning of my “dark and twisty” phase—right as I had intended to not be with anyone in a romantic way, is when he met me. I told him as much the night we met, but the message still got filtered a bit through the lens of someone who I think, deep down, was hopeful for more. He and I were not friends, per se, but we were also not dating—because I was not interested in dating anyone in the dark place I was currently in—but I also found the previously used label of “friends with benefits” didn’t quite seem to fit either, so we found a label we could both agree upon, which was “lovers.” And we honestly enjoyed as much time as we could with each other in this space. For me, it was exactly what I needed in that moment. We enjoyed each other’s company, and we enjoyed many of the same things; we found a safety with each other—both in the sharing of our past, but also simply just by being together. I recognize this title implicitly says more than I ever have shared before about a relationship, and I’m okay with that. I am thirty-six years old and incredibly tired of living in the fear of talking about or not talking about sex. I was married eleven years, so I think it’s safe to say I am aware of what sex is—and it’s something I still engage in to this day. *laughing* I know that by sharing this, there will be some of my family/friends who are probably disappointed, but frankly? I’m not interested in filtering my writing anymore for fear of what you, or others may think (or not think). Enough said.

     I am a firm believer that people come in and out of our lives for a reason. With that said, I genuinely believe I was meant to have this man in my life. Even if it was unconventional and didn’t look like other relationships—it was still meaningful, even it if wasn’t meant to be for forever. I was very up front and honest with him about where I was at, day one, but it doesn’t mean that feelings didn’t get involved. If I’ve learned anything in my years of dating—it’s that it’s incredibly easy and natural for emotions and feelings to get involved where sex is concerned. I think we both knew that this was always a possibility, and we were both very honest with each other about what that would mean. I knew he was potentially moving out of the area soon, so it felt safe. Safe to let my guard down; safe to just be me; safe also because it was just so easy to be around him. But, with all of that said, I never felt that way about him. Even when I found feelings creeping in, I pushed them down not wanting to go there—we weren't supposed to go there, right? But, before I knew it, we were facing a point of no return—I had agreed to go out of state to a wedding as his plus one—and subsequently had made plans to go to Paris the day after we were to get back. The trip was going great, but somehow, without really seeing it coming, I found myself hearing him tell me that he was falling in love with me, and that he needed more. My heart ached in that moment. My heart ached because I knew I couldn’t say the words he would have liked to hear me say next, and that I couldn’t give him more. I have never taken those words lightly, and I didn’t then either.  The next day we flew back, and I had to face one of the hardest goodbyes I have ever had. It was hard because not only was it over, but I was also losing a friend—he couldn’t stay friends with me—and we had truly become close over those few months—my heart ached knowing I was losing that, but also for all the unspoken words I felt between us in that moment, “I’m sorry I can’t give you more. I’m sorry you met me here, in this dark place I’m at right now. I’m sorry I am not where you are at, at least not today.” So, I said goodbye, and I flew to Paris two days later.

     So, Paris. I flew to Paris, kind of spontaneously, with a man I had dated earlier in the year, and who I really liked. If I’m being honest, he was someone I had hoped (deep down) to have something more with someday. In hindsight it all feels like it was wishful thinking, but, at the time, I couldn’t help but feel excited and hopeful. A handsome man who I was interested in had invited me to join him in Paris and, on a whim, I had decided to say yes. I mean, how do you say no to that? Our first date was one of the most romantic I’ve ever been on, honestly. I was about to go to Paris for the first time earlier in the year and he had invited me to a French themed charity dinner, and the night ended with slow dancing (yes—slow dancing) in his living room. I know, it all sounds a bit hard to believe, maybe even a little nonsensical, but I genuinely believe that a big part of love is truly that—nonsensical. So, seven months later, I went to Paris for a second time, but this time, with him. I went to Paris, and I tried hard to keep my expectations in check, but it was hard for me to not find myself hopeful...for a spark, for more... I do not want to dwell on the details, but I will say that my overwhelming feeling from this trip was one of disappointment. I know that it’s not fair to compare, but for me, there was no way I couldn’t not compare them, having both trips so close in proximity to one another. While one man was so incredibly attentive, emotionally connected, and engaged—the other was the exact opposite. Perhaps, not at first...but as the trip went on, I was incredibly aware of it. It makes me sad, in hindsight—I was in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and I felt more alone than ever being there with him. I felt like he didn’t emotionally connect with me most of our time together, which was a little surprising, but also left me at a bit of a loss, as I’m incredibly empathic to the people I’m around. I often felt a bit like I was walking around on eggshells being with him, unsure how to “just be” around him. It was not romantic. It was not about me. And my heart turned in on itself with the juxtaposition it found between my travel companions. I had hoped, foolishly so, to fall in love in Paris, and instead I was with someone who I realized was still in love someone else. I don’t say all of this to be hurtful, but to simply be honest. It was a painful and incredibly emotional week for me.

     But, somehow, even after all of this, my emotional week wasn’t complete. There was more waiting for me. Sitting in the Paris airport, waiting to come home, I was sitting next to my travel companion, filling the time while we waited to board the plane by mindlessly scrolling through Instagram when my eyes caught on two words, a name. His name. A man I have written about here before—the first man I fell in love with after my ex-husband. My brain was still registering seeing these two words again as my brain finally assimilated what it was I was seeing. It was a picture of the man I had fallen in love with proposing. My heart dropped. I sat there in shock, absorbing these pictures, these words—then I quickly closed the app—my brain’s obvious attempt at self-preservation. I sat there for about ten minutes before finally starting to cry—my partner sitting next to me completely oblivious to my tears or my pain. I have been asked, since then, why I cried...and it still baffles me how anyone could ask me “why?” But I will try to convey to you the “why,” even if it’s completely irrelevant.

     I cried because the man I fell in love with was proposing to someone else. I cried because he was, in every single way, exactly what I wanted—at least in that moment of my life. And even though I can look back on us and see just how much he didn’t deserve the love I had for him, it is irrelevant to the simple fact that I did...love him. I loved him in a way that I have never known before...connected with him in a way I had never known before. I cried because this hurt me—seeing this, as it should. But it was also necessary. I knew this was the moment I had to let it all go. To finally, somehow, find a way to forgive him—to let go of all the pain that had been inside me for far too long. That is one thing I will always be very grateful for. To the man that I would call my boyfriend, and the man I would call my lover—I realized just how much pain I had been living with, not just from my breakup, but from the men I had loved, but who, ultimately, hadn’t been right for me. I finally recognized this in moments I had been with my friend, my lover, and he would be asking me simple questions, and I would be reduced to tears in a matter of moments. It was embarrassing, but he also never made me feel bad or ashamed for it. I also had a moment of clarity, a few months later, in a conversation with my last boyfriend, finally talking about our breakup and how much his actions had hurt me. He said to me, “Don’t let me be the cause of your pain.” Those words resonated with me because of just how true they were for me. While I had done such a good job of not letting my divorce not define my life, to keep me from moving on and dating again, I had allowed these men, each heartbreak, to carry on in my heart—each hurt still there, right beneath the surface. I realized then and there I owed it to myself to finally forgive them, and to move on.

     While I haven’t figured it all out exactly since then (read: I’m still figuring so much out in this crazy life, especially now), I am proud to say that I came back from Paris and I finally forgave the man who broke my heart more than most. In writing this, I recognize that there is still room for forgiveness, for letting go, which I completely acknowledge. I am not perfect, and I’m still figuring this life out as I go, but I’m also incredibly proud of just how far I have come.

     I have loved, deeply. I have had my heart broken, and, sadly, I have hurt some hearts along the way. I am here, sharing this, to hopefully normalize that dating may not look the way you expect it to—it may be messy and unconventional—and you may make some mistakes (or a lot), and you may have your heart broken...but here’s also a beautiful truth: you get to decide what happens next. You.

So, in this moment, I am creating something new and I am trying to have a wild heart in dating. I am both hopeful, excited and scared...but above all, ready. I know what I bring, and I also know what I want. Dating is hard, but it’s also so much harder if you’re not ready.

When I wrote these words, almost a year ago now, I was in such a different place. I was actually ready to try to start dating again. Unfortunately, this year has not been the year for trying to date, at all. It’s been incredibly hard trying to pick this piece back up, to try and talk about something that’s happened so long ago now, but I also feel like I needed to. To give these words voice, even if I find myself in a space where I’m not optimistic about love or dating, as I was earlier in the year, pre-global pandemic. With that said, I still want to write about love. I still want to talk about what dating has taught me, even as I find myself in a particularly weird year for it.

With that said, the best advice I can offer, for the years of dating I have experienced, is this:

•    Know who you are, but also be comfortable, just as you are. You don’t need anyone to complete you or to make you happy. Trying to have someone fill this role won’t make you happy, ultimately.

•    Know that it’s okay to want someone—but not to “need” them to feel okay. You have to be okay, just you. You also have to love you, first, before anyone else can love you. Any attempts to shortcut this will leave you disappointed.

•    Try really hard to not grasp for someone or something, or to chase someone who has left of their own accord. I’ve had to learn this the hard way, and sometimes I’ve needed to be reminded, but it is a powerful truth. If they want to talk to you, they will. If they want to see you, they will ask. Try to not read between lines that aren’t there. Sometimes it really is that simple. You deserve someone that pursues you. Pure and simple.

•    Be honest and be kind. I think I’ve said this very yearly on in my writing, but it begs repeating. It does no one a service to tell them what you think they want to hear, let alone yourself. Always be honest (even when it is hard). And try to do so with kindness. Enough said.

•    Grace. If I had to leave you with one word, it would be this one. Have grace, and not just for others, but also for yourself. I know, for me, I need to have equal parts grace, both for others and for myself. It is so easy to allow my expectations of myself and others to put people on a pedestal. Pedestals are unrealistic, though, and people aren’t meant to be on them. Have grace for when people disappoint you, or for when you disappoint yourself. This beautiful adventure is called life. It’s going to surprise you and challenge you—and it’s not going to look how you had expected it to—ever! And that’s okay. Get comfortable in the uncomfortable—the not knowing.

     With all of that said, I end this post a little differently than pre-pandemic Sabrina would have. I always feel like I have to end things on a positive note. Maybe it’s because I’m a sucker for happy endings and naturally want there to be one. Pre-pandemic Sabrina ended this so full of hope, excited for a year full of as of yet unknowns and adventures. While this year has definitely held quite a few surprises, not all of which were bad, more than ever this year has tested us all and pushed us to many of our breaking points. I wish I could share something incredibly positive, something uplifting, or something exciting, but I’m afraid I just don’t have it. I think in the absence of that, the one positive this new space has left in my life right now is time to reflect, time to sit in the space created, just me. I’m getting comfortable, really comfortable, with just being me. It’s not easy, especially as I crave connection and companionship, but I also know, deep down, just how necessary it is. In this vacuum of time and space this pandemic has created, I’m learning how to truly love me, to learn the wounds I have yet to heal, and—probably the hardest yet—how to finally let go of not having a romantic relationship. It’s hard, and it can be scary, but I think it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be. As scary as “giving up” has felt for me, I feel only stronger in who I am for having finally done it. I’m not giving up forever. But I am—for now. And I’m okay with that. In letting go, I feel that I have found the strength within me to face this, but also a feeling of peace about it. I genuinely don’t know what this next year will bring, BUT I can confidently say a stronger Sabrina will be here to face it. And for that, I am grateful.

[vitanes]

say it’s okay when it’s not

chapter 8: the aftermath

Lucas gets outed and he has to deal with what’s next. The whole week is one long ride. Along with bad experiences, he learns something new about Eliott.

(a/n: homophobic language)

They are all looking at him and Lucas wishes he could make it stop. He knows they saw it, their usernames among the tagged ones in the post containing the pictures. And now they are looking at him trying very hard not to look at him. It’s suffocating, Lucas wants to become invisible all at once. He can’t stand being in this situation.

“Hey, hey. Lucas.” Someone shakes his shoulder and his head snaps to the side. Yann’s eyes are piercing through him and his hand on Lucas’ shoulder is heavy.

“I need to go,” Lucas whispers, looking away. He stands up abruptly, letting his phone fall down to the floor with a loud thud when it slides off his legs. He pays it no mind and starts walking towards the door. Everyone’s watching him.

He’s stopped halfway through his way by fingers wrapping around his wrist and strongly grounding him in place.

“Lucas, no. You aren’t doing it again,” Yann says, his grip tightening. Lucas exhales sharply and turns around.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?” he asks, his voice breaking. He’s so embarrassed, he doesn’t want all of his friends seeing him like that. Yann seems to understand because his eyes skim over the room and then he pushes Lucas forward until they are out of everyone’s earshot.

“You aren’t running away, that’s for sure,” he says once they are in the hallway. Lucas shakes his head.

“Have you seen how many people were tagged in this post? Everyone will know. God, why didn’t I pay them? I was such a moron for thinking they’d let it go.” His voice is strained and he’s barely getting words out of his throat. “Everyone in that room was staring at me,” he adds, pointing in the direction of the living room.

“They were shocked and worried,” Yann tries to explain and Lucas rolls his eyes.

“I don’t care, I don’t want that. Fuck, what am I going to do?” Lucas asks helplessly. He can’t imagine facing his friends afterwards let alone the rest of the world. He was exposed in the way he’s been trying to avoid for so long and no matter how much effort he put into hiding his secret, it’s all done now.

“Lucas, come on, look at me. Look at me,” Yann says sternly, but Lucas refuses, staring at the ceiling instead. Yann cups Lucas’ head in both his hands and forces him to look at him. “You’re going to get through this, okay?” He sounds so sure and Lucas wishes he could nod and confirm those words, but he doesn’t believe in them. He can’t cope with this situation.

One of Yann’s hands slides down to Lucas’ neck and he pushes Lucas’ head against his shoulder, letting his other arm fall around Lucas’ waist. He holds him there and if not for him, Lucas feels like his knees would give out under him.

“You want me to get them out of here?” Yann whispers, his thumb reassuringly tracing circles over  Lucas’ skin. He gets a nod in return. “Okay. Go to your room and I’ll handle them. Do you want me to stay?”

Lucas withdraws and lets his eyes rest on Yann’s face for a long moment. “I’d rather be alone now,” he eventually lets out. There’s no anger in response, no accusation. Just pure understanding.

“Okay, but if you need anything, I’m one phone call away.” Yann rubs his hand over Lucas’ back one last time before pulling away as well. “It’ll be okay.”

It won’t, Lucas replies in his mind and steps away. He goes to his room and locks the door, not keen on seeing anyone right now. His whole world has just ended, he needs some rest.

***

The best way, the Lucas’ way to deal with problems when they get overwhelming is to ignore them. It worked perfectly fine when things were going down with his family. He would put a smile on his face and just go on. So he tells himself, this time it should be the same. He’ll simply act as if nothing happened. He doesn’t talk about it thus it’s not real. That’s the conclusion he reaches over the weekend. That’s how he eventually leaves his room and talks with Manon like all is good. He can see the surprise on her face, but he ignores it.

The same way he avoids looking at his phone. And really, why not? He can live a life like that. In a bubble. Lisa and Mika seem cooperative, much to his relief and don’t even send him weird looks, even though Lucas feared Mika would approach him the first thing after finding out.

When he’s going to school on Monday, it’s with newfound energy. A part of him tells him that he can do it. That maybe Yann was right.

(That are the lies he feeds himself so he can at least slightly calm his nerves.)

He comes up to the guys, he high-fives them even though his palm is trembling and tries to grin as much as possible.

“I tried calling you,” Arthur says at one point, seemingly tired of the elephant in the room.

“Ran out of battery,” Lucas replies, pretending to be oblivious. He notices everyone turning towards him, interested and his healthy fingers curl into a fist in his pocket.

“I just wanted to–“

“I can’t believe!” Lucas hears Chloé before she appears right in front of him. Great. “What did you think? Did you even think at all?” she asks him and she’s fuming. Considering they haven’t spoken to each other ever since that unfortunate morning, Lucas assumed they both had agreed to forget, but he must have been wrong. “Why did you sleep with me if you’re gay?” Lucas’ heart stops beating for a second just to pick up its speed in an instant. The guys make surprised noises, but Lucas can’t address them. “Do you know how it feels like? People will think I’m pathetic for sleeping with a gay guy. Fuck you, you should have chosen someone else. At least now I know why you couldn’t make it work. Jesus, I was so stupid!” she yells, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Hey, now. Maybe if you weren’t screaming about sleeping with him no one would know,” Eliott says and Chloé’s eyes snap to him. Lucas has already noticed, but apparently, it must have started registering in her head only now that people around are looking towards them, some of them snickering. Chloé’s cheeks redden and she coughs.  

“Whatever,” she mumbles under her breath and leaves the place, knocking into Lucas’ shoulder for emphasis.  

“Dude, you slept with her?” Basile asks after a few beats of uncomfortable silence. The muscle in Lucas’ jaw ticks and instead of answering, he turns on his heel and goes towards the entrance of the school.

***

“Why didn’t you tell me about Chloé?” Yann asks on their way home after classes. Lucas was invited over for a dinner to Yann’s house and he didn’t even question the way Yann eagerly asked him to come. He feels a bit guilty, though, living off Yann’s family again. He doesn’t think he deserves any of their generosity.  

Lucas doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. The shame that was left in him after what he did with Chloé is still within him. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to openly talk about this experience without feeling lightheaded and gross for a very long time. It’s a tough topic. One he’d rather stay away from than picking it apart.

“I’ve been trying to forget it happened at all.” There was also the fact he didn’t want to make Yann feel guilty because knowing Lucas he’d word his explanation wrong. Besides, he’s been scared of being judged for doing it. Even with Eliott, it wasn’t all that easy. But with Yann, it’s ten times worse because they are best friends.

“Why did you do it?” Yann asks quietly, kicking a rock out of his way. He tucks his hands into his pockets. He won’t meet Lucas’ eye and Lucas looks straight ahead.

“I was really miserable and everyone around me started coming out suddenly and being happily not straight. I just felt like I had to do it,” he explains, scowling. He should have known it’d be a mistake and maybe under normal circumstances, he’d have stopped. But he was drunk and the rest is history.

“She was your first, right?” Yann asks. Lucas would assume that he does that out of politeness because he’d know if Lucas had sex with someone. But at the same time, Yann has no idea how pathetic his experiences with boys are, he has no idea Lucas has never gone further than a heated make-out session with a stranger. In that case, his question is completely valid.

Lucas nods. They both fall quiet afterwards, but Lucas can hear Yann thinking anyway and he keeps wondering what exactly is going on in Yann’s mind. Whether it’s something bad about Lucas. He starts worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

They are near Yann’s building when he hesitantly opens his mouth to say, “I’m sorry it happened. I really hope you won’t hurt yourself like that ever again.” There’s something really soft in the way he utters those words, something that touches right at Lucas’ core. It says I don’t want you to do that to yourself because I care about you. It says I love you and pulls at the strings in Lucas’ heart.

And Lucas thinks to himself, how could I’ve ever doubted you?

***

The moment Lucas knows something is wrong is when he walks into the locker room to change for PE and everyone falls silent upon his arrival. He feels the eyes of his classmates watching him, but he tries to move on. No need to unnecessarily stress over that. It probably doesn’t mean anything, right?

Wrong.

It happens when he starts changing into his sweatpants. Someone says, “The girls’ locker room is to the right, you missed.”

Lucas takes a deep breath but says nothing. He doesn’t want to let them provoke him, especially when he’s completely alone here. He doesn’t have this class with any of his friends. Better to play safe.

“You heard me? You shouldn’t have come here.”

“Yeah, we don’t want to be watched by some queer,” someone else adds and Lucas bites on the inside of his cheek so hard it nearly draws blood.

“What are you going to do anyway with that screwed up hand of yours?”

He was told he can participate in PE as long as he isn’t doing anything involving his hand, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out, does it?

“Surely won’t give anyone a hand job.” The whole locker room barks out with laughter and Lucas scrunches his nose up. It wasn’t even funny.

The person sitting to his left kicks him in the shin and says, “Why aren’t you saying anything? Too much dick sucking?” He kicks Lucas again, this time with more force.

“I’m not here to talk with you,” Lucas says calmly, even though his heart is beating rapidly in his chest.

“Oh, how mighty. Mister homo is too good for us, huh?” says the first guy and the one who kicked Lucas leans closer to him.

“Watch out, I like throwing the ball really hard,” he mutters with a dangerous note to his voice and for the first time, Lucas truly feels like it’s not just harmless teasing.

“Don’t get too close to him, he might get a crush on you.”

“Don’t worry, if it happened I’d beat that crush out of him,” the guy promises and stands up, flicking Lucas in the ear before leaving.

The other guys follow him soon after, with someone throwing over their shoulder, “Next time you shouldn’t change here,” as the last warning.

When the door closes and Lucas is left alone only then does he realise how badly his whole body is trembling. He barely knows these people and they have a problem with him over two random pictures. Over him not being like them. Lucas can’t wrap his head around it. Can’t grasp the fact they won’t be the last ones to pick on him even though last week they were barely classmates, almost strangers.

It takes all of Lucas’ strength to go to PE after that.

***

Waiting for a teacher to come and then finding out they aren’t going to show up is always satisfying. Even if it’s biology that Lucas enjoys, he needs that moment of peace. Being at school has been torture and it’s been only merely three days. It feels like everyone is staring at him during classes. The whole school wasn’t tagged in the pictures and he didn’t expect everyone to point at him, but the rumours spread fast. More people than not know about him and choose to give him hell. Mostly students from his year, which makes matters worse. He has to interact with them.

Having a class cancelled is a small miracle, an hour to get away from people snickering behind his back and he can’t wait to just go somewhere and disappear.

“Hey, do you want to study in the library?” Imane asks him and Lucas looks around, wondering when she got closer to him. He definitely didn’t see this coming.

“Um. Sure,” he mumbles, shrugging. Aside from the boys and Manon, he hasn’t talked with anyone who was in the flat on Friday and now he feels awkward. Especially that he only touched upon the subject with Yann. None of the boys bothered him about it so far, but Lucas doesn’t know what to expect from Imane. If he should even expect anything. She’s blunt and always speaks her mind and Lucas assumes the worst. Always. Even though he shouldn’t.

They go over to the library and Imane chooses a table in the far corner of the place, right under the window and close to the regales full of scientific textbooks. They settle down and spread out their materials over the table. Lucas isn’t sure he’s in the right state of mind to study and learn a lot, but he might as well try. Over the weeks, Imane and he have become compatible during biology classes and perhaps now she’ll send him some vibes that will help him focus.

They start going through the topic of the last lesson, helping each other out with the matters they both have issues with and somehow manage to work them out together.  That reminds Lucas just how much joy learning things he’s interested in gives him. And, looking back, Lucas is happy that Imane became his partner. As much as he likes Arthur, they never had the connection needed for that subject and very often Lucas would get distracted or would have to do twice as much. With Imane things go smoothly and it doesn’t feel like only one party puts effort. It’s a pleasant change.

“What are you guys looking at?” Imane asks, her tone sharp and Lucas looks up from his textbook to notice two guys and a girl sitting by the table next to theirs. The girl and one guy seem embarrassed by being caught gawking, but the other boy looks unbothered and Lucas knows he’s going to say something nasty.

“It’s just weird he’s hanging out with you. You’re a girl, right? Besides, shouldn’t you be against the gays?” the guy asks and yep, there it is.

Imane sighs with exasperation all the while Lucas’ grip on his pen tightens. “It’s just weird that you’re in this school when you don’t possess any brain cells. If you aren’t going to say something smart, maybe it’s better to stay quiet. Assuming we are such a big problem for you, why don’t you change the table?” she waves her hand towards unoccupied parts of the library, “I don’t know about you, but some people really came here to study. So could you remove yourself before I tell the librarian you’re disrupting the quiet?” Imane tilts her head to the side, a fake smile tugging at her lips.

After a moment of hesitation, the girl tugs on the sleeve of one of the guys and then they all move. Imane watches them with a satisfied smirk and then her eyes move to Lucas’ surprised face.

“What?”

“How did you do it?” he asks. He wasn’t even able to say a word to them all the while Imane had enough guts to make them leave.

“Years of practice,” she replies with a shrug. She tries to come off as nonchalant, but Lucas notices the way her smile becomes sad and her eyes lose their earlier spark. “You never get used to being treated like a zoo exhibition but you learn how to stand up.”

“We have something in common now,” Lucas says matter-of-factly and Imane snorts.

“Yay, oppression,” she says, weakly waving her fist in the air.

“Although I could never understand what you have to go through,” Lucas adds as an afterthought. He’s still a white guy, all the while Imane must deal with racists, islamophobes, and people who hate women. And when Lucas can hide being gay, Imane can’t lie about being who she is.

“Yeah, you couldn’t. But we can learn from each other and support one another. We have compassion and deeper understanding of those things than the people who go through life without being prosecuted for simply being who they are,” Imane says, her fingers toying with the corner of her notebook. “How are you holding up?” she asks, looking at him.

“It’s bad but I try not to think about it so I don’t lose my mind,” Lucas says honestly. It’s hard to deal with. It’d be one thing if he had already accepted himself beforehand, but he’s still full of self-hatred. And being forced out of the closet in this state will leave a scar. Lucas is aware enough to know that. He’s been outed against his will and everyone including himself isn’t a fan of what was revealed. He wasn’t ready to have the whole world know he likes boys. He wasn’t going to be ready anytime soon.

Now he has to deal with all of the backlash and his own issues. He can’t even think about kissing a boy or holding his hand. But now other people do think about him doing all of that and it doesn’t belong to them in the slightest. Especially not if it doesn’t belong to Lucas either.

“One thing I can assure you about is that people will stop talking. They’ll get bored. The news will be old and you won’t be that interesting soon enough. Good things pass but bad do, too.” Imane reaches her hand out and gently brushes her fingers over Lucas’ bandaged knuckles. “I was really scared. On Friday,” she admits. “I’m glad that Yann stopped you from rushing off. Almost everyone started looking at their phones and it must have felt horrible for you. But I hope you know none of us were judging you. We were mostly sad. Angry at the person who posted it. Guilty for looking at the pictures.”

It’s good to hear it said out loud. Lucas has considered all of the bad things his friends might have thought about he didn’t even take into account that they were feeling for him. And logically he should know he’s got all their support, they’ve proven that, but Lucas always lets his mind wander to dark places.

“Thank you,” he says, slightly pushing his hand against Imane’s and getting a small smile in return.

“Anytime.”

***

Walking into the school building on Friday, nothing could have prepared Lucas for what he’s met with. All he can do is stand frozen, staring at the posters showing a naked guy in a lewd position with Lucas’ face photoshopped on top of his and an ‘I will ride you for 10 euros’ with his Instagram handle next to it. And it’s not only one or two posters. No, they are hanging over the whole hallway. Some people have taken them off just to smirk at them.

And Lucas can’t move away, taking the poster in with shaking breaths. His hands balled up into fists despite his aching fingers. This is awful. Everyone will see it. Everyone will know even if they didn’t before. They won’t stop talking. They won’t stop doing things like that. Lucas’ lips fall open.

Why? What did he do? He’s not the only gay kid in school but for some reason, he’s the one people hate. He didn’t want this. And it can only get worse from now on because why wouldn’t it? It’s been barely a week and it’s hell.

“What the hell are you laughing about?!” Arthur screams towards the crowd that has gathered around. He starts ripping the posters off the wall, his face full of disdain.

“Don’t you have better things to do? Fuck off,” Yann says, taking care of the posters further down the hall all the while Basile joins Arthur.

People are still making comments despite the guys trying to shove them away, to tell them off and Lucas can’t take it.

“Let’s go,” Eliott whispers into his ear and tugs Lucas away from there, back towards the schoolyard. “Fucking assholes,” Eliott mutters under his nose when they stop next to the entrance. He turns towards Lucas, a pained expression over his face and opens his mouth to say something more.

“Lucas, are you alright?” Yann reaches them with Arthur and Basile in tow, all of them looking pissed off. Lucas shoots a glance to Eliott but he doesn’t say anything more, his eyes downcast. Lucas looks back at Yann.

“How can I be?” he asks, his voice breaking. “Have you seen those posters? There’s contact to me on them.” He starts pacing. God knows how many of the posters are still hanging all around the school.

“We will go to the principal,” Arthur says, reaching his hand out to place it on Lucas’ shoulder but Lucas shakes him off.

“What good will it do? People will keep talking but now I’ll put them in trouble so it’ll be even worse.”

“So you just want to let it happen?” Arthur asks, frowning.

“I tried to stop it from happening for so long and it didn’t work! Nothing will work now. I just can’t fucking wait to be beaten up!” He throws his hands in the air, his whole body shaking. “How is that fair that you and Eliott can make out at a party but I have to be sorry for existing? I’m so fucking sick of this,” he sniffs, “Why am I the only one people have a problem with?” he asks, looking straight into Arthur’s eyes.

“I don’t know,” he says helplessly.

“I really wish I wasn’t gay. I hate it so much. And if my life is going to look like that? When I can’t even take a piss without someone looking at me weirdly? Then I don’t want to live at all!” First tears spill from his eyes and he groans, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He hates that so much, too. He always fucking cries, like a baby.

“Don’t say that. You can’t mean that,” Arthur’s voice is barely above a whisper when he says that, his eyes wide and face pale.

“I do. I do mean that,” Lucas admits.

He looks over the rest of the boys’ faces and they all look the same amount stunned and sad.

“Lucas, it’s not the end. You’re still so young,” Eliott says.

“What would you know? It’s the end for me,” Lucas retorts harshly and the moment Eliott’s face falls, Lucas knows he’s said the wrong thing but it’s too late to take it back.

“You’re taking it too far. Cool down,” Yann says warningly.

Lucas takes a step away from them and they all flinch upon noticing. “Just leave me alone,” he mutters and turns his back to them before storming off.

***

Locking himself in his room to run away from the whole world has become some sort of a hobby for Lucas. He isn’t really proud of this one, though, but what can he do? He doesn’t want to face other people, he wants to pretend he’s the only human out there. Besides he doesn’t have to talk with anyone, doesn’t have to see anyone worried.

If he’s locked in his room he won’t hurt anyone by whatever he says or have to deal with assholes. Running away is always the best choice.

Lucas briefly wonders how much school he has already missed. How badly it’ll affect his performance. He hopes he’ll be able to pass, but in the grand scheme of things does that even matter anymore? If he can’t handle being at school maybe he should drop out altogether. Find a job and finally not be reliant on his father.

The teachers must have seen the posters. He wouldn’t be surprised if the principal found out without anyone really reporting it to him. What if the next time he goes to school he gets called into the office? Have adults discuss his situation, ask questions. God, that would be humiliating.

Lucas doesn’t know how much time passes since he comes from school until there’s a knock on his door, but he supposes it must be well into the afternoon. His flatmates already back from work and school, probably wondering why he’s there earlier than them again.

Lucas thinks to himself that if he stays quiet, they’ll think he’s asleep and won’t bother him. But the knocking repeats after a minute or two and he sighs loudly.

He’s already reaching the bottom so he rolls off his bed, falling down with an ‘ow!’ in the process and honest to God crawls towards the door.

“No, I’m not hungry. Yes, I’ll do my laundry. I’m fine,” he mumbles, resting his forehead against the door.

“We both know it’s a lie,” he hears Eliott saying from the other side and Lucas’ breath hitches. He opens his eyes wider.

“Who let you in?” he asks weakly.

“Mika? I think so.” Of course, it was Mika, who else. If he can’t be nosy, he’ll let other people do that for him. “Are you going to open the door?”

Lucas considers that for a long moment and then blurts out, “No.”

“Fine then,” Eliott says and then Lucas hears some commotion from the other side and the feeling of another body pressed up against the door.

“Why did you come here?” Lucas asks, brushing his knuckles up and down over the wood.

“I didn’t want you to be alone. Despite what you said. And I figured out you’re more likely to talk with me than the others,” Eliott admits and Lucas shifts his head so his ear is pressed closer. He can almost hear Eliott breathing.

“Why?”

“Because you did that before,” Eliott says and Lucas purses his lips, looking down at the carpet. It’s true. There’s something about Eliott that makes Lucas open up in a way he struggles with the rest of his friends. He doesn’t know why that happens and is aware it may be problematic in the long run. Finding out that Eliott knows about it as well is a little scary to be honest. It feels like he’s holding that power over Lucas. Coming to him when Lucas clearly stated he didn’t want anyone because he knows Lucas may not resist. Lucas doesn’t know what to make of it, what it means, but his heart speeds up when he thinks about it.

Lucas nearly choked trying to be vulnerable with his best friend but here he is, wearing his emotions on his sleeve while talking with someone he barely knows.

“I was an asshole,” Lucas whispers, his cheeks getting warm.

“Maybe. But the situation was very fucked up. And it proved you shouldn’t be alone right now. Even if we just sit here with the door between us, I think it’s better than you shutting yourself off,” Eliott says, his voice composed. “The things you said about yourself. About not wanting to live. It really got to the guys.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucas says and his voice wavers. It’s never a pleasant thing to hear your loved one say something like that. He’d know, his heart bled each time his mother said something akin to his words.

“Don’t be,” Eliott says softly. “But it left them distraught. Especially Arthur. He blames himself for not helping you earlier, for not figuring it out. He feels bad for being openly out when you were struggling so much.”

“He couldn’t have known,” Lucas says. He never let anything escape. No matter how much his friends know him, if he didn’t want them to find out about any part of himself, he would do anything it takes to hide it. It wasn’t any different in this case.

“I tried to tell him. But I think you’ll have to talk with him when the time comes anyway.”

A sudden thought occurs in Lucas’ mind and his eyes jump to the place he thinks Eliott’s head might be.

“Did you… did you know?” It’s a stupid question, but Lucas can’t shake it off. There’s been something subdued about Eliott’s approach. He was the only one who didn’t give Lucas lingering looks since it all went down. Not to mention he’s the one to come and comfort him and knows exactly what to say.

“Not really. At least not until you told me about Chloé. I had my suspicions after that, but I told myself I was reading too much into that,” Eliott says thoughtfully.  

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Lucas, how would you react if a guy you very strongly disliked for a while asked you if you weren’t straight? When you were deep in the closet? It wasn’t my place to say anything.” Well, if it’s put this way, it does make sense. “I was just as surprised as everyone on Friday. But it was even worse because I wasn’t tagged in that post. I saw it on the screen of your phone after I picked it up when you left and I shouldn’t have looked,” Eliott explains and even though his memory of that day is blurry, Lucas remembers glimpses. Remembers how Eliott’s confusion looked so differently from the surprise on the faces of his other friends.

“Why weren’t you tagged?”

“My account is private and I don’t follow anyone.”

“Mysterious,” Lucas says, but in his head, there are many questions. Why’s Eliott’s account out of reach for all of them? What is he hiding?

Eliott snorts. “Yeah. Anyways, I want to tell you something. But I don’t think I can do it like that. It’s a secret,” Eliott says and it takes a moment for Lucas to realise he’s asked to be let in again.

Lucas looks over the room, on the clothes draped over the furniture, textbooks on the floor and his bed unmade and the insecurity from a week ago comes back to Lucas. His room is a mess and Eliott’s never been in here, but at this point, Lucas is too numb to think twice before standing up and slowly unlocking the door. Whatever Eliott thinks of the state of the room, Lucas will handle it.

He opens the door and Eliott falls down on his back with a yelp. He wasn’t probably expecting Lucas to give in. To be fair, Lucas wasn’t expecting it either.

He looks down at him and Eliott watches him back, upside down. His hair is sprawled on the floor, surrounding his head like a halo and there’s a dazed look on his face the longer he’s staring at Lucas, his lips slightly parted. Lucas shakes the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach off and moves back to his bed.

Eliott stands up, threads his fingers through his already dishevelled hair and gently closes the door before turning towards Lucas. Lucas is leaning against the headboard of his bed, his legs stretched out. He knows it’s not very polite to lie in your bed when the guest is over but he can’t find it in himself to care.

Eliott eyes the bed and clears his throat. “Can I?” He points towards the empty space left on the right side of the bed and Lucas feels himself blushing before nodding his head. Outside the context, it’d be weird. But it’s not, right? He’s shared the bed with Yann countless times. It’s not any different.

Eliott joins him and once he’s settled, their shoulders are touching, their legs only inches apart. Lucas feels lightheaded for some reason. More so when he feels Eliott’s eyes on the side of his face.

“So what’s the secret?”

Eliott huffs under his nose and looks straight ahead. “It’ll sound cheap but I know how you feel. Like, not in a sympathetic way, but in the literal one. Last year, I was the centre of the rumours at my old school, too. And among other things, I was outed as well. That’s why I may be taking your situation differently than others? Because it happened to me. I’m not telling you this to shift the focus to myself, but to simply have you know.”

“What happened?” Lucas asks, curious.

“I don’t want to talk about the details. I still can’t. But the word I was in love with that guy got around. He was one of my best friends. And I had a girlfriend at the time so you can imagine it didn’t put me in a good position. Things got out of control. I was easily affected by people’s reactions. I hated myself. It was so bad I stopped going to school, failed exams. I wasn’t myself anymore. That’s why I’m repeating the year. I came back for the first semester but all my friends were gone, my girlfriend too and people didn’t forget. I’d still find nasty things sprayed on my locker. And I was so tired. I changed school, cut ties and started over.” Eliott is breathing unevenly when he tells his story, like it’s weighing down on him. Making it hard to breathe. It’s causing him a lot of pain and maybe that’s what prompts Lucas to reach out for his hand and grab it. Eliott’s breath stutters in that moment, but he doesn’t comment on it so Lucas considers it’s okay to hold him like that. He doesn’t take his hand away. He can feel Eliott brushing his thumb over Lucas’ bandages.

“How are you now?” Lucas asks.

“Better. I’m a nobody to most and I like it. And I’ve got you guys. My whole situation left me so isolated I was scared I wouldn’t find any friends. I’m healing, I think,” Eliott says but he still sounds hollow. Losing everyone and everything isn’t easy to get over with.

“So you suggest I should change schools, too?” Lucas asks meekly.

“No. You have people. I pushed my friends away and ended up alone. You have a support system that will help you get through this. I just want you to know that what I said today, that it’s not the end. It really isn’t. I know exactly what you’re feeling and I’ll be damned if I let you make the same mistakes as I did. There’s a long and bumpy road ahead. It won’t be easy but one day things will be different,” he says, determined and Lucas wants to say something back, but he can’t find any words. Eventually, it’s Eliott who breaks the silence. “By the way, I was thinking. Have you reached out to your mom?” It’s weird how quickly Eliott changes the topic but maybe that’s something they have in common. Lucas can’t take talking about deeper stuff for a long time either. Especially matters that make him feel small. And Lucas thinks that revealing this secret to him must have had a similar effect on Eliott.  

“Not yet,” Lucas mumbles, still overwhelmed by everything Eliott has told him.

“Maybe it’s the right time to do it,” Eliott suggests, squeezing his hand, carefully enough not to cause him pain. Lucas takes a shaky breath and nods.

“Can you stay?” he asks reluctantly and feels Eliott shift ever so slightly. They are still holding hands.

Lucas isn’t sure if he’s asking about now or in general. Maybe both.

“Of course,” Eliott whispers quietly, with no hesitation in his voice and Lucas bites down on his bottom lip.

He’s feeling exposed, but it’s okay because Eliott bared a bit of his soul to him in return.

[nineninefinest]

Growing up is never easy. Trying to find your place in the world was scary and difficult. Zoe Acosta had an especially hard time doing that.

For a lot of her life, she wasn’t even Zoe Acosta. Her name was Zoe Liberato. A small family that consisted of just her and her parents. She had no idea she was born into darkness. Her father raised her with ulterior motives. He never intended for her to be his daughter, just a pawn. Perhaps an heiress if she proved herself.

It was her mother that properly raised Zoe. Loved her the way a parent was supposed to love their child. The bond they formed was strong, but only got better as Zoe grew up. Skinned knees and bad dreams always had her mother coming to Zoe’s side. She never had to worry if her mom loved her or not.

Her father, however, moved like a ghost through their own home. Zoe could go days on end without seeing him sometimes. He didn’t eat with the family. He barely ever picked her up from school. She was always told he was busy working, but she never knew what to tell the other kids when they asked what her dad did.

Zoe was 10 the first time she saw a glimpse into the world her dad lived in. One summer night, the heat kept Zoe awake. Uncomfortably tossing and turning until she gave in to getting a glass of cold water. Everyone was supposed to be in bed, so Zoe crept down the stairs. Her pink flashlight was in her hand, but she found the kitchen light on as she approached. Her dad sat at the head of the table, more grown men around him. None of which Zoe recognised. She didn’t think to eavesdrop. This was her dad. She had no reason to be suspicious of him. Zoe didn’t even consider this was something she wasn’t supposed to be around until the arm that reached up to open the fridge was grabbed roughly. She was spun around to face her dad as he yelled at her. He took her back to her room and slammed the door. Zoe cried herself to sleep and ignored the dryness in her throat. She wore a long sleeve shirt to school the next day despite the other kids that laughed at her and called her weird.

It took a few days for her mom to find out. Not even from Zoe. From her dad complaining and saying hateful things about their own daughter for spying. When her mom told Zoe she knew, she was already preparing to be yelled at again but it never came. Her mother just sat on the bed next to her and stroked her hair. “Your father is under a lot of stress at the moment. He doesn’t mean to yell.” She nods and tells herself that the next time he does.

And the time after that. She repeats it like a mantra in her head.

By the time Zoe is 13, it’s just a part of life. Her and her mother have accepted they’re stuck in this situation.

Until one day Zoe’s friend cries to her at school. Her parents were getting a divorce. “What’s a divorce?” Zoe asked softly. Everyone else seemed to know. They started at the raven haired teenager like an idiot for asking, but the word had never been uttered in her household.

Her heart ached for her friend, but today she went home feeling lighter than ever. Perhaps her mother didn’t know either. She relayed the concept with a smile on her face and optimism shining in her eyes. Much to her surprise, her mom’s reaction didn’t match. She just sighed and told Zoe it wasn’t that simple.

The moment she’d been waiting for finally came. Her mother finally told him she was done. It was all the same screaming and fighting to Zoe, until her bedroom door swung open. Usually they kept their fights to themselves. Her mom would never let her get involved. The words spilt out of her mouth so fast, Zoe couldn’t even process it all at once.

“Pack what you absolutely need. We’re leaving right now.”

Zoe rushed around, shoving things into her suitcase. Always feeling like she was forgetting things but not wanting to spend another moment here that she didn’t have to. Worst case scenario, they could replace whatever they left behind. She could still hear her mother screaming at him from downstairs.

“Keep all your stuff. The only thing I care about leaving here with is my daughter.”

The last time Zoe ever saw her dad was looking over her shoulder as they walked out for the last time. As he yelled at her for being ungrateful. At her mother for manipulating Zoe against him. Swearing they’d be back and begging for his help within a week.

Quite the opposite, however. They took a while to get on their feet but they had each other. Zoe’s mom worked as much as she could, wherever she could. Zoe started applying for jobs the day she turned 14. A nice opportunity came to be a retail worker in the local mall. Late nights and weekends, so she could still go to school.

Once she was 16 and no longer needed both parents permission, they went down and legally changed their names. Her mom reclaimed her maiden name and Zoe was an Acosta by blood and now name.

Life only seemed to get better without him. Zoe ended up with an opportunity to work on the police force. She begged the universe to let her right her father’s wrongs and she strongly believed this was her chance to. Something to prove that same evil didn’t run through her veins. She kept her head down and studied, eventually landing a job in the 99th precinct.

That was where she met Logan for the first time. He was a rookie, just like her, but he seemed to have this air of confidence. Maybe it’s just because he wasn’t as jittery as he sat on the couch next to her. “Hey,” she forced out, eager to break the silence. Her head stayed forward, as if they were children trying to sneak a conversation in class. “I’m Zoe.”

He introduced himself as Logan. When a hand extended towards her to shake, she finally turned to face him. On leg tucked under the other as they talked. It wasn’t until the an older detective interrupted them that Zoe noticed she’d stopped shaking.

She considered Logan a fast friend of hers. He was always nice to her and made her laugh without even trying. Unlike lots of the people she went to school with, even ones she considered her friends, he didn’t look down at Zoe when she asked a question. He stuck by her side until they figured it out together. When her face lit up with happiness, she’d always see a smile on his face too. His arms wrapped around her without hesitation when she cheered and hugged him.

It didn’t take long before they started hanging together outside of work too. They spent ages discussing the movie between breaks at work. All different theories were thrown. Some serious, some making fun of each other. By the time their shift was over, they’d arranged to meet at the local cinemas later that night to see the movie together.

Zoe told her mom about the cute boy from work that had asked her to the movies with a grin on her face. Her cheeks rosy when her Mom teased he might be into her. Zoe would die before she told her mom she was into him. They spent ages raiding Zoe’s closest. Her mom pulling out something she thought was cute while Zoe shook her head and laughed. “It’s not a date, Mom,” she protested through giggles as her mother laid another outfit on the bed. They compromised of changing out of her work clothes, but still keeping it casual. A quick kiss on the forehead before Zoe left.

She wanted to get there early. Make sure didn’t leave Logan waiting on her. He must have had the same idea, because he was already leaning against the wall when Zoe walked in.

“Are you ready to get the tickets?” She asked as soon as she was close enough.

“I think we need to get our snacks first.”

“Those are from the same counter.”

“Overpriced ones are from the same counter. I have a backpack and the mall has a grocery store.”

“You’re not supposed to take outside food in.”

Despite her protests, Zoe walked with him. They moved through the different aisles, laughing and throwing more candy than they needed into the basket. “I’m still buying popcorn,” Zoe stated as they checked out all their food.

“I’ll eat some of your popcorn.”

“You will not.” Yet she put the bucket between the two and told him to help himself through the movie. Hands brushed in the popcorn and Zoe just prayed he couldn’t see her blush in the dark.

After the movie, they stayed back at the arcade. Versing each other on every single game they could find. Air Hockey seemed to be one of their favourites. Taunting and teasing each other when they were in the lead. She put a gold coin in one of those photo booths. Dumb poses for each picture. Bunny ears and swapping his sunglasses for Zoe’s actual glasses.

The next day, she stuck the photo strip onto the computer at her desk and realised how much she liked hanging out with Logan. He stuck with her through the good and bad times. One bad time in particular was Taylah running through cases with them. One hit too close to home for Zoe and left her feeling like the walls were closing in. She abruptly excused herself without wanting for the okay from Taylah before she left.

She expected to be alone out there, but Logan surprised her when he came out with her. Even though she rushed to wipe her tears away, he sat down on the bench next to her. They sat together in silence for a moment before Zoe broke the silence. “Who am I kidding?” She asked, trying to disguise a sob as a scoff. “Being a cop. I can’t do this.”

“It’s rough, but-“

“You don’t get it, Logan. I can’t do this. This was supposed to be something... life changing. I really thought I found right where I was supposed to be, but I cracked. Under the slightest pressure, I cracked. It wasn’t even real pressure. It was just trouble shooting with Taylah.”

His hand gently rubbed circles on her back, mirroring the way Zoe felt herself spiral. “It sounded like my mom,” she finally admitted. “She never actually stole anything. We’ve just been so low that she could’ve... and she would. Anything to keep me safe, she would have done. How am I supposed to bring justice when I can’t keep my life seperate?” Even though it was posed as a question, she wasn’t sure she wanted an answer. Just incase that answer was ‘you can’t’.

“I wanted to make this world a better place. At least, not make it a worse one. I thought I could set myself apart from him, but I can’t. It’s in my blood or my DNA or something.”

“Who, Zoe?”

“If I tell you this, you have to swear you’ll never tell anyone else.”

“I swear.”

“On your life,” Zoe added, extending her pinky out towards him.

“I swear on my life,” he told her as his pinky linked with hers.

“My father... wasn’t a good man. In fact, he was a terrible man. The kind of terrible men we deal with here. My mother and I left him when I was thirteen, but I’ve always felt like it was my responsibility to balance it out. Stop men like him from now on, but I can’t. God, I’m pathetic.”

This time when Zoe sobbed, Logan pulled her in to rest against his shoulder. Normally she would have protested incase she got his shirt wet, but right now she just liked the comfort.

“You’re not pathetic and you’re not a bad person.” She looked up at him, forcing a small smile despite her teary eyes while he gave her a goofy grin. He sat out with her for as long as she needed, complete with running back in to get her tissues and making sure it wasn’t obvious she’d been crying when they walked back in.

He walked her all the way back to her desk, dramatically pulling her chair out for her to make her laugh. Even when he was back at this desk, he’d pull a face every time they made eye contact. Anything he could to lift her mood.

It definitely worked. Zoe laughed at him now, as well as smiling at the photo strip blu tacked onto her computer. She never took it down. In fact, she dragged him to every photo booth they came across when they went out. Each strip being added to her computer to make her smile.

One day when Logan seemed down, she stuck one on his computer while he was out of the precinct. It was worth it to see him smile when he sat down and looked at his computer. When he looked up at the obvious culprit, she stuck her tongue out at him, hoping to make him laugh like he always did for her.

[canaryatlaw]

okay. so. today was pretty fun. I had set my alarm for 10:30 as we’d agreed Jess would pick me up at 11. Well, I woke up to said alarm at 10:30 to a series of messages from Jess telling me to get up already because she wanted nuggets before we went to the con. I told her I’d be ready in 15 minutes, because I was being good and woke up half an hour beforehand when I knew it only really took me 15 minutes to get ready when I’m not doing my make up (doing it in the car here). So I got ready, doing Peter Pan today because I gotta take advantage of my short haired red headed cosplay options because I hate wigs and will be wearing them both Saturday and Sunday. Got picked up, went to Mcdonalds, drove to con, didn’t get stuck in ridiculous traffic like we did yesterday, so that’s a win. I’m trying to remember the details of how everything went down, when you’re there all day and you’re doing different things within a small space it can be hard to remember exactly what you did when. But I think we got there and went to find some people and talked with them for a while, then found Jess’ two friends (”friends”) who were running around doing different things, after waiting for them for a little bit. And I mean, for most of the day we just did different versions of walking around and finding people and looking at things? we’d hang out with a certain group of people for a while and then they’d go off and do a photo shoot or something and we’d migrate to a different group of people. At some point during the afternoon we decided to go through the whole show floor aisle by aisle to assess options before buying anything. I knew I wanted to get a t-shirt of some sort, and sadly there were very few legends-related items out there (I think the only places we really saw them were in the sections where you have the IDs from different shows) so I figured I’d either want something Wonder Woman or Superman related, since those are my other two faves. I was also potentially looking for a cool backpack that’s somewhat bigger than the one I have now because in two weekends we’re doing HVFF New Jersey/Rose City CC in Portland over two days and are just bringing backpacks, and since I decided tonight that I am going to cosplay both days (and the NJ one I am SO excited about!!) I’m gonna need something that can fit a lot of things. What’s annoying about the t-shirt thing is pretty much all of them at cons are only in unisex sizing, not women’s sizes, and I don’t really like how they fit me so I don’t end up wearing them as much as I do the Wonder Woman or Superman shirts I have in woman’s sizes. The other thing I might potentially buy is an Elektra from Daredevil funko pop because back when I was still looking for Katniss but was getting convinced I wouldn’t be able to find her (before I found her online) I was considering making Elektra my next one, and she would fit nicely on my stack of funkos in their boxes (that are literally in a stack on my dresser right now that consists of dark haired women who totally kick ass because apparently I am predictable like that (right now it’s Wonder Woman, Jessica Jones, and Katniss) (I do have three other funkos that are out of their boxes and placed elsewhere, which are my White Canary and Captain Cold, placed in conjunction of course, and Smallville Green Arrow played by Justin Hartley love of my life and the only actor to portray Green Arrow in live action as far as I’m concerned). So we set off to do that. A number of good Wonder Woman options I took note of, a few ones that are old comics styled, a few featuring other Justice League members like Superman and such (though I’m really not a Wonder Woman/Superman shipper like, at all, so not those because Clois is the only valid ship for Clark Kent, though I am open to WonderBat possibilities). There is also a very cool Wonder Woman backpack we were looking for that I’ll probably go back and get because it had a lot of places to put stuff and looked like it could fit everything nicely, it was just 60 bucks so I wanted to make sure it was definitely the best one before actually buying it. The Elektra pop has shown up a few places, cheapest so far for $10, so I’ll keep looking at those since there are of course a ton of places with pops. We kept getting stopped by random men that wanted to talk to us because Jess was being a fucking furry (she got asked to take a picture with two people in full on fur suits and I was dying laughing while also taking a picture of it). By the time it was like 5:30 or so we were pretty much done with everything, so we ended up meeting up with some people and heading to one of the restaurants over by the parking garage, because if you eat at one of the restaurants there they’ll validate your parking so you don’t have to fork over like $15 just for parking. So we ended up going to the German restaurant, which is always a bit of an adventure lol. The first time my family went to DisneyWorld when I was like 12 our restaurant reservations got messed up for one of the days and the only other place we could get in was the German restaurant in Epcot, and all I remember is there menu being like, essentially like three different types of hot dogs, so whenever I think of German food now that’s what I think of, and how I somehow managed to not barf it all up when my brothers and I ran (literally) from Epcot over to Animal Kingdom to get to our fast pass for Expedition Everest, which we made with like 4 minutes left on it and then went on the crazy roller coaster where I was sure I was gonna puke it all up (our restaurant reservation was for like, 4:40, and the fast pass was between 6 and 7, so we thought we’d be fine, but the restaurant got super backed up and didn’t seat us till like 6:15, so we basically ate like half a meal and then ran from the middle of the Epcot circle of nations through the rest of the park, onto the tram and then all the way through Animal Kingdom to Expedition Everest, making it at 6:56). But we got some super cute pictures of my darling baby sister who was 3 at the time and like at peak cuteness dancing to the polka in the German restaurant so that was definitely worth it. ANYWAY. this restaurant seemed somewhat similar in that there was a polka band and everything but thankfully had a larger menu selection. Jess and I ended up splitting some potato pancakes (sorry Germans, they weren’t as good as latkes) and a jumbo pretzel because she doesn’t eat red meat and I’ve been getting Meat Fatigue™ (which we’re still pretending is a real thing okay). We had an interesting conversation going on around us as the guy sitting next to me was trying to say it was bs that people were making excuses for James Gunn in that situation when strongly condemning Trump for making obscene comments, except he was not explaining it well at all and it was totally being lost in translation for everybody else until I was like okay, this is what you mean and explained it and he was like “yes, exactly! I like her” to which I was like 😂😂😂 understanding what people are saying pretty much all the time and explaining things happen to be two random talents of mine that come in handy a lot. So the meal was pretty good, one of the ladies we were with graciously picked up the tab so we were very thankful to her for that. At that point we were pretty beat so we walked back to the parking garage (after getting our parking validated) and drove home. I got dropped off and we planned to pick me up at 10 am tomorrow. I fumbled in the dark with my keys for a few minutes because somehow all the outdoor lights and the lights in the hallway of my building have gone out and not been replaced (yes I could’ve turned my flashlight on on my phone but I was being stubborn and wanted to do it myself) but eventually got it figured out. NICKZANO was very happy to see me, though I told her she’s gonna have to get used to being alone more once I get a job (at some point, anyway). I think I may actually be allergic to cats though, because my legs where I’d been letting her sit on are like hella itchy, but it’s obviously not a major issue at all and I’ll just like, put pants or longer shorts on from now on and that won't be a problem. I showered and changed into my pajamas, then watched a few episodes of 30 Rock, keeping it nice and light. I’m in their 5th season now out of 7 (which is kinda funny because I’m also on the 5th season out of 7 on GoT right now) so sooner or later I’m gonna have to find something else for funny filler episodes when I just want funny tv. And yeah, I did that for a while and then finished getting ready for bed and here we be now. So yeah, lots of fun, hopefully tomorrow will as well, I will be debuting my Ava Sharpe cosplay (who I was never really planning to cosplay but ended up needing to do so for our photo op with Matt Ryan which is gonna be fucking hilarious, just wait) and seeing Matt Ryan so that will be fun. I’ll probably wait till Sunday when I’m doing my also new (and pulled together exclusively of stuff I already owned because business wear) Lois Lane cosplay to see Tom Welling and Michael Rosenbaum. I was considering doing a photo op with them, but their joint one was $150 which is a tad excessive, and like, Tom alone was still $90 and I wouldn't even know what to do in a single one with him because I’d rather like, have one with both of them so Tom and I could look like we were fighting Michael, but also Michael has hair now so he doesn't even really look like Lex Luthor anymore, so given all of those factors I decided meeting them and getting selfies with them in my cosplay would be good enough. Okay, that’s all I got, it’s 1 am and I’m waking up at 9:30 and I like sleeping so I’m going to go to bed now. Goodnight peeps. Have a lovely weekend.

[dontdietwd]

Don’t Die, day 24

The thick patch of woods around camp was lit at noon, the high temperature and hot beams of sun amongst the tree leaves making the wild life seem to be hiding, seeking refuge. Glenn wiped off a drop of sweat that threatened to fall into his right eye with the back of his hand, his baseball cap all but forgotten at camp; it only made his head hotter, he’d told me. By his side I considered, not for the first time, getting rid of the dreadlocks. The thick rolls of hair glued to my sweaty arms. One of them got tangled on the shoulder gun holster I still wore since I’d found it, and I had to stop to remove it.

“Seems to be clear,” he told me as I resumed walking. “We must be nearly out of the perimeter.”

“Few more yards,” I informed. “We use to check up until that big oak. I like to stand there for a while to see if the woods beyond are really clear.”

“Right. But you know, with how fast they walk, they’d take like a day to reach the camp from this point.”

“Some of them can be faster. I guess it depends on when ���”

I stopped suddenly, a hand rising to stop Glenn from walking ahead of me. He had heard it too, though. Steps rustled the tree leaves ahead of us, stumbling shapes slowly becoming visible amongst the trees. Two females and one male walker growled hungrily looking at us.

“I think that one was at a party,” Glenn whispered as he pointed at one of the females with his knife. She wore a black strapless dress; a fancy pearl necklace was still around her neck, now dyed in red; one of her feet was bare, the other had a high heel silver shoe still strapped to her ankle, making it ever harder for her to walk.

“That’s why I never wore high heels,” I told Glenn as I also unsheathed my knife and took the first step towards the three dead people.

“Whoa, that’s a big guy,” Glenn said impressed as he reached the male, his putrid fingers reaching out for him only to find the empty air as he took a step back and to the side. The size of the dead man made him luckily slower, making it surprisingly easy for Glenn to reach up and stab him into his ear hole.

As I approached the two females, one was quickly kicked on the chest and stumbled back, falling on her bottom and groaning desperately. It would have been funny if I wasn’t too busy to give it any thought; I was fighting the dressed up walker who had taken hold of one of my dreadlocks and was pulling it with more force than her decaying body let show. Ignoring the pain on my scalp, I managed to reach for the walker head and bury the knife to the handle into her left eye. I nearly fell with the walker but managed to remain standing and untangle my hair from its hand – one of the fingers threatened to get unattached from the hand – in time to look around and see that Glenn had his foot trapped under the body of the walker he had just killed. It didn’t look like he had been hurt, but he was struggling to set himself free. The second female walker had stood up by now but didn’t have time to even try to attack. My knife, still coated with the other’s brain matter, was shoved strongly into her temple.

“You alright?” I asked Glenn as the walker fell heavily to the ground.

Glen stopped struggling, breathed out, head hanging a little in shame. “Yeah… He just… Fell on me.”

“Shit, Glenn, gotta be careful with the dead weight,” I said as I approached him and couldn’t help myself but laughing, “Hah, dead weight, got it?”

He also laughed despite of himself. “Yeah, got it. That was… Terrible!”

Letting it go I bent down to help him push the big walker away. “You’re lucky you ain’t alone.”

“Yeah, I know,” he mumbled as he rolled his foot, testing for any sign of pain. Satisfied it wasn’t hurt, he got up while I cleaned my blade on the fancy black dress of the dead walker. He stared at the three of them for a moment in silence before asking “What do you reckon it is?”

“What?” I straightened up and turned to him sheathing the knife again.

“This… Thing. Decease, virus, whatever. Nobody seems to have any kind of explanation.”

“We can only wonder… Don’t seem natural to me, though.”

“What do you mean?” he asked as we resumed walking.

“I don’t know, I don’t think nature would work like that. There’s a reason why things die in nature, the freakin’ circle of life and all that? I don’t see a reason for the dead to get back to life, I mean, happening naturally.”

“You mean you think someone did this? Like in a lab?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Like terrorists?”

“Who knows? But well, if terrorists did this, they probably regret it by now. I mean, if this is really worldwide.”

“Must be. If it wasn’t, we’d be getting help from other countries already,” he paused. “Right?” and looked at me. I answered him only by returning his skeptical look, an eyebrow raised. “Well, so if it is manmade and if it is in the whole world… Who’d find the cure? If there’s any, I mean.”

“Who’d find it if the ones who should be looking for it are possibly eating each other as we speak?” and I raised a finger to make a point, “and not in a good way.”

“It’s hard to imagine that everything is really over,” Glenn spoke gloomily. “Life as we knew, I mean.”

“Is it really?” I asked just as we reached the oak tree and stopped walking. “Things were going to shit for a long time, Glenn. Violence, racism, wars, hunger. Of course there were still good things but… Maybe it was just so bad that there was no returning point, and we, simple people, didn’t even know how terrible things were. This thing that is happening sucks, it’s a fucking apocalypse, no good in that, but ya know… Many of the bad things might be over too.”

Glenn nodded his head, arms crossed. “Like pollution, pesticides, poisoned water, global warming, the next world war…”

“Yeah, there won’t be enough people to ruin the planet anymore. But what I mean is… We know nothing, right? Miserable little human beings who don’t understand the reason for anything in life. And we probably won’t know. There ain’t much we can do other than move on, keep living, keep fighting. Is what animals have been doing in nature since the beginning, we’ll just keep doing it.”

“Keep fighting,” Glenn repeated. “Build a life in this new world?”

“What other choice we got? Give up? Lie down and cry? If we didn’t give up when facing the other problems we’ve all had in life, why would we now? I’ve been though shit, Glenn. I don’t know your story, but I know nobody’s life is easy. We all are just gonna have to suck it up and move the fuck on.”

Glenn had gone silent for long minutes before speaking again. I let him think, his face showed how surprised he had been to hear my thoughts. It might have been hard to digest, but I knew I was right, because the more I thought, the hardest it was to find something about the old world that I would miss. Well, I would miss the supermarkets and all the available food and not having people try to feed on me, of course. But what in my past routine was so good that I would desire to have back? To wake up before sunset to go serve coffee all day? Run from the diner to the community school and study things I knew I was never going to really use in real life, until I fell asleep over the books? Take the bus late at night and walk home in fear of being robbed, assaulted, raped? To dream of the weekend when I could have a day off to go running on the woods and practice my free running with sport colleagues? I knew the colleagues were most definitely gone, but to run on the woods and jump up and down things was still pretty much possible, if not needed.

“We must plan things then,” the young man by my side cut the silence, removing me from my thoughts just as my mind reached the child I assumed I was having. No time to think about that now, though. “With this group we can do quite a lot, I bet.”

“Like what?” I asked. I had my own opinions about what we could, or should do, but I wanted to hear what others thought. My favorite thought is to fortify an area around us. Like, really close the space with fences, or walls. Stopping any walker would get to us and no people to rob our stuff.”

“First thing that came to my mind too,” Glenn agreed with me. “But how do we build fences? Wood?”

Glenn and I spent long minutes discussing it, just throwing ideas up in the air, one more unlikely than the other. We knew the notion of physically closing the area around was good, but extremely hard to comply.

“I just feel like this ain’t where we’re gonna stay,” I confessed after we sadly understood just how tied our hands were. “It’s too open; too close to the city, too uncomfortable to be for a long time. But it ain’t no good to think about this now, you know, ‘cause it’s working so far.”

“Yeah, you’re right, but what has to happen for it not to work anymore? Walkers?”

“I don’t worry about walkers, honestly. What worries me more now is that the food is running short. We’re twenty people eating twice a day; there’s children growing up, how am I supposed to feed everyone for long?”

“Your friends are out hunting, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, and they’ll come back with some meat, but I ain’t sure it’ll be enough. And if they bring a big hog or dear or something, we gonna have to cook it all or we’ll lose the meet. How long’s it gonna last? Two, three days?”

“With this heat, it would rot even before that long,” Glenn informed with an apologetic look on his face. “But we could salt it.”

“Come again?” I turned to him.

Glenn proceeded to tell me, more excitedly by the second, that he had read on the internet something about the process of salting meat to make it last, and that this process could preserve it for as long as months.

“Only thing, though,” Glenn concluded, his smile dyeing out, “is that we’d need to have quite a lot of salt. I mean, many pounds, you know.”

Crossing my arms, I went silent, Glenn following my lead as I turned around and started to slowly walk back towards the camp. I knew where we could go and try to find what we would need, but I didn’t feel like it was a good option. It seemed too risky, and none of us knew how things were back in Atlanta after the bombing. There was to guarantee we would ever find anything useful there.

“Did you know Shane has been teaching some of us how to shoot?” Glenn cut the silence after we had walked back about half way to camp. “We’ve been going away a few miles so the noise won’t attract walkers to the camp. I had learned before, but now I’ve trained and he said I’m doing pretty well.”

“I knew that. I’m the one who suggested you’d do it far from here,” I said walking but stopped right then and turned to Glenn. “Why do you say that?”

He had a determined face as he took a breath before saying “I am ready to go make a run to Atlanta.”

I only stared at him for a moment, eyeing him carefully as I looked for some sign of uncertainty, but other than Glenn’s gentle eyes and slightly raised eyebrows, I found none.

“You sure?”

“I am. Remember what I told you when we met on the road? I know Atlanta like my own hand. I used to deliver pizzas all over the city and –”

“And ya run pretty fast,” I finished and Glenn just smiled. “I remember.”

“So?”

“I worry, Glenn. You’d be alone out there with walkers all over. At least take someone with you.”

“I don’t think so, Sam,” he answered firmly, but still with his gentle tone. “I’ll be faster alone.”

“I feel responsible,” I told him crossing my arms, sounding life a confession. “I’m the one who brought you in. You’re in this group ‘cause of me and ya’ll be out there risking your life to get food for the group. Ya get it?”

He nodded with a tight smile. “I get it, Sam, but you’ve just said yourself. New life, we all have to face it? If this may be my job in the group, then I’ll do it. And I’ll be careful, I promise.”

After a moment, though reluctant, I said “Alright…”. Glenn smiled more openly now, glad. “But come back, ya hear me? In one piece. And bring food. And any sorta meds you can find.”

“And salt!” he completed with a laugh.

We both turned and restarted walking to the camp. Glenn proceeded to tell me what he thought he should take with him; a gun and ammo, more than one blade, food for at least a whole day out. I told him it all could be arranged, and with all agreed as we reached the clearing once again, I told him he’d leave in the morning and Glenn, happy with himself, left to start separating his stuff.

There, overlooking the clearing and the automatic motion the group seemed to have acquired in the past days, I had to double check to see if Merle and Daryl were back from their hunting, since Merle’s thundering, rude voice rang inside my head. They were not back yet, though. “…don’t wanna be responsible for all those shitheads. Wouldn’t wanna be in your shoes if they start seein’ you as the leader…” he had told me, and now I wondered when the hell had Merle Dixon turned wise. Glenn had just asked me permission to do something – something important – and I had considered, thought of pros and cons, and authorized him. Why hadn’t he asked Shane, when the two of them along with some other members of the group used to spend time together when training shooting – perfectly good opportunities to talk about it?

“Every pack need a leader, sweetheart.”

* * *

Ignoring my rolling, angry stomach, threatening to make me waste my breakfast, I slowly sipped out of an old, metal jug of water, careful breaths until I felt like it was safe to walk around again.

“Hey, Sam!” I heard and turned to look up at Dale on top of his RV. He pointed out in the direction of the woods. “Your friends are back.”

Smiling as a thank you, suddenly quite happy, I turned to where he had pointed, still unable to see them for a moment, but after a few seconds they appeared amongst the trees. First there was Merle, his clothes so dirty they even looked darker, strings of tied up squirrels hanging from his shoulders and, behind him, Daryl carried a dear over his shoulders, his face sweaty and dirty. As I approached smiling, I saw Daryl’s eyes dance around the camp, looking for something until they fell on me. I could have sworn I saw a smile on his lips, but it was quick, his face returning to the same closed, sulky one I knew. Still smiling, I headed to where they were both now being greeted by the better part of the group, cheering the prospect of having fresh meat tonight.

“Look at ya’ll fuckin’ vultures!” Merle was laughing when I got there. “Ya’ll never direct a fuckin’ word to me, but now I got the meat! Now ya’ll my best friends, ain’t ya?”

“We’re just glad you two got good result doing your part to get the camp going on, is all,” Shane was explaining as he took the strings of squirrel from Merle.

“Yeah, but ya’ll get to clean ‘em up,” Daryl said as he dropped the dead dear heavily to the ground.

“Hey, bro, old world had gold-diggers; we got ourselves some meat-diggers now!” Merle said and laughed aloud of his own joke.

“Don’t be a jerk, Dixon,” I told him as I stood by them.

“Hey, hey sugar face!” Merle said happily as wrapped an arm around me. “Miss me, didn’t ya?”

“Fuck, Merle, you stink!” and I started distributing slaps to get him away. “Fuck off!”

“Ya love me!” he said letting me go. “I know ya do, ya loved me before I got ya meet, unlike all there meat-diggers!”

“Yeah, yeah, you believe whatever the fuck gets ya going, now get outta here and go wash.”

“What won’t I do for ya, sweetheart?” he said as he turned to go down to the lake.

“Welcome back anyway, stinky!” I laughed as he left.

As I turned to talk to Daryl, all the other people were already walking away, taking all the dead animals with them. Daryl gave me a tiny, shy smile.

“Not smelling much better,” he told me.

I leaned a little closer and sniffed the air, making a face and getting away from him again, “You damn fuckin’ right!” and I laughed as he raised his arm and took a sniff at his own armpit, making the same face I had. “Ya been out long,” I damped it down because it really didn’t matter. “Good to see you.”

Daryl nodded but didn’t answer. He only started walking in the same direction Merle had gone and I stepped by his side. “How’s things ‘round here? Good?”

“Quiet, I guess. Few walkers around the perimeter but we’ve been catching them before they get here… But food’s starting to run low. Hey, do you know something about preserving meat?”

As we crossed the camp and descended to the bottom or the quarry, Daryl told me how to do it with salt and how this was, due to the circumstances, our only preserving option. If Glenn didn’t find salt enough to do so, Daryl would have to go away hunting with Merle much more often.

“Nah, no fuckin’ way I’ll do that. Can’t be alone with Merle that long.”

“How come?”

“Not used to it... He wasn’t around much. Every now and then he’d just vanish and not come back for a long time.”

“Yeah, I know… Was kinda noticeable when he was gone, quieter ‘round there. But why did he go away so often?”

“He’s got issues.”

“Yeah, I figured… But he’d just… Up and leave?”

“Yeah, most times without even saying goodbye; just left me there to handle it alone.”

“Handle it?” I asked looking at him, still slowly descending the patch. “What did you have to handle?”

Daryl shook his head, a bitter, little smile on his lips. “Forget it.”

“Ok… Well… For what’s worth, I also know all about handling things on my own,” I saw Daryl look at me then, curiosity in his blue eyes. Looking at him as well, I smiled. “I’ll tell if you tell.”

He held in a laugh, his smile enlarging, “Not a chance.”

“Alright then,” and we were silent for a little longer. “Hey, uh, how is he? I mean, with the drug thing? He’s been using that blue crystal he got?”

“Bit, not much. He’s trying to cut out. He’s been weird ‘cause of that.”

“Why’s he cutting out?”

“Well, ya know, if he’s high and a bunch of walkers come up he won’t have the reflexes to deal. Says he knows that, so he’s got to try and be alert.”

“He’s never been more right,” I agreed just as we reached the lake and see, yards away, that Merle is washing waist deep in the water. “We gotta keep an eye on him… Withdrawal won’t be easy if he cuts back altogether.”

 * * *

 On top of Dale’s RV, I stood observing the camp beneath me. Night had fallen and, with it, the sleepy silence of the post-dinner relaxation; it had been the first one with meat in a few days. It’d been amazing, Carol had taken over dinner tonight and cooked us all an incredible deer pot roast. The Dixons were praised again, to Merle amusement, and Carol was too. It had been a good night. I watched as Lori and Carol quietly left the clearing, each one bringing her child to the tents. Around camp men on their posts keeping watch; in the center Shane kicked dirt from the ground to the fire, putting it out. I breathed deeply but quietly, relieved to be feeling quite well after dinner. No night-sickness today, and I wondered if I was far along enough to be out of that faze already. Doing a quick math, I concluded it probably wasn’t the case. Maybe I’d feel sick in an hour or so, which was a shame because dinner had been amazing.

Turning around, I took a seat by Dale on the second folding chair, silence claiming us for a moment.

“Glenn’s going to Atlanta in the morning,” I quietly told the older man, who turned his head to look at me.

“Do you think it’s safe?” he asked carefully.

“No. I don’t think anything is really safe now… But it’s needed.”

“Can he pull it out?”

“Yeah, I think so. He’s confident, he can shoot, run fast. I’m giving him the chance.”

“Chance of what?”

“Of feeling useful,” I looked at him too. “We need food and other stuff he’ll be looking for, but I think it’s mostly about him feeling he’s needed. You know? I think we all need it.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Dale nodded, relaxing into his chair again and looking out. “Why do you think I stand here looking out for the better part of the day? I think it’s what I can do, my part. I’m not so good at killing them; maybe not fast enough.”

“I know…” I went quiet for a moment, both of us looking down and around. “Your lookout is crucial just like the job each one here’s doing. We need the guards around camp, we need the kids gathering twigs for the fire, we need Shane teaching people how to shoot and organizing the patrols, and Merle and Daryl going hunting, Carol and the others cooking and keeping water clean… I’m just… Still not so sure what I’m doing.”

While I spoke, I wondered why I was talking about it. I liked Dale but had never really sat down to talk to him. Perhaps there was something about him being the eldest of camp, with a wise look, that made people want to open up to him. I’d seen others doing it before. Andrea was the one who did it most; I noticed how they had become friends since the beginning.

“You’re not sure what you’re doing?” Dale asked, a tone somewhat unbelieving on his voice. “Sam, you’re –” he stopped to laugh a little “You’re leading us!”

I stared at him, mouth agape for a moment. Damn, that was said. Seems like it wasn’t real until someone voiced it. I was leading them. I was leading a group. Was I fucking leading the group?!

I shook my head forcefully, trying to make my brain restart, and leaned further back into my chair. “Fuck, Dale, I don’t know how it happened. Why? I mean it, why did I become the – the leader of the group? I’ve never done anything like that in my life, I was a fuckin’ waitress! How – how did that happen?”

Dale shook his head slowly, still smiling. “Since the road, before we all left looking for a place, you stated your opinions and they all made sense, you faced what was to come and thought about what would be best for all, and what I liked the most, personally, you stood up for Shane, who had taken the decisions for himself with his ‘I’m a cop’ speech. I mean, don’t get me wrong I respect and have always respected cops, and I like Shane, but his attempted leadership was all but forced upon us. Yours wasn’t.”

“I just had common sense, Dale. I don’t think anything I said or did was out of what would be right, no matter who was making the decision. Just… Yeah, common sense. And as for Shane, I – I mean, I never let myself scare by men, you know… Imposing, stronger, kinda sexist men. I stood up for my opinions and the rest just came with it.”

“So,” he made a gesture with his hands as if he was showing me something, “you’ve just explained exactly why you’re at the head of camp, Sam. Common sense, the best for all first. I, personally, would choose you over him without a second thought exactly because of that. And I know it must be scary being in this position all of a sudden, during the apocalypse, it’s quite the responsibility. But don’t forget than other than the four children, the rest of us are all adults who are also capable of having common sense. You’re not alone.”

I said nothing after that. I didn’t know what to say. I continued observing the camp with Dale for a few more minutes, thoughtful. Merle’s words kept coming back to my mind and scared me, but Dale’s thought helped her keep balance and not freak out.

Just common sense, it was all I needed.

[ashleywings-blog]

This trip has had many ups and downs throughout the month. When I am going to begin with the negatives, but only because I want my ending to be on a good note rather than negative. When I was told about this trip I was never told about the story telling part; yes the title is epic story telling, but when we were told about the program we were only told about working with clients here in Thessaloniki. I am no journalism major and I never will be. One thing I struggle with strongly is keeping my thoughts.... I can write/ talk for a small amount of time before I completely lose my train of thought and cannot remember what I had wrote or was even attempting to talk about; if you've had an extensive conversation with me this is something you'll notice frequently. Yes I could have been an editor, but I also don't have the best grammar which you've probably seen throughout my assignments/blogs. Something I would suggest for next year is either having two different programs, or have a journalist in the group who writes stories about the clients and the work we are doing for them. I think that would take a lot of pressure off some of us students, especially if they're like me. The excursions that were planned also made me feel like I was back in high school; and I didn't like high school. I did running start my senior year because I didn't want to be controlled. The acropolis in Athens was the best excursion we went on and the most interesting. But we did not need to take the 5 hour bus ride from Athens to Thessaloniki, and make all the stops on the way. Yes I love the mountains and being in them; but when I cant hike them or I'm told I cant because we are on a tight schedule ruined my experience and made me think negatively. Another time this had happened was mount Olympus when we were told we were going to be hiking up the mountain or take a trail, then to find we go down a short path to a waterfall and to be driven up the mountain where there was one trail, and dint have time to actually hike it. Knowing we had extra money leftover from the trip something that could have been offered was getting two smaller shuttles and for the people who didn't want to hike could go back to the hotel, and the other to stay and enjoy their day up in the mountains. I did find the mountains of the monasteries to be beautiful, but i am not religious and my parents never taught me to be; for me to attempt to get a tour of the monasteries and told the history of religion I was frustrated because that isn't my beliefs and I don't find interest in this matter. Before the trip options should have been given to the students and detains about the excursions; I know most of us were very disappointed in them and most of us left for Crete one weekend because of it. When we got to the hotel as well we found out many different things. It was nothing like the pictures, the location was not ideal, and that we should not have been staying there. When we got into our rooms it was warm days and nights, not allowing A/C made us open our doors and windows at night which allowed bugs in and all of us had millions of bug bites. There were no dressers and limited amount of hangers for our clothes. Some peoples beds were pushed together to be one big bed. I even came home from Crete one weekend to find a glass wine bottle shattered in my room, my room STILL A MESS AFTER BEING GONE ALL WEEKEND; and then we were blamed for all of it. To top that off there is no gym for students to exercise, nor a pool near by to cool off during the day. We are also a whole taxi ride to going out in town, which we didn't want to pay. No we didn't come here for just a vacation, but I would like to be able to enjoy my time when I relax and go out when I please. Another issue I had with staying at a hotel for a month is not being able to make food and I cook everyday at home. Next year I would suggest taking a smaller amount of people and renting out a house for a month so students can make food and save money by making food; even if the location isn't close to anything the extra money can go towards going to the beach or taxi to downtown. The last negative note I have is the lack of communication with the clients before we had arrived. There were groups who didn't meet with their clients till week two; or mine week three. Yes, my client had a death in the family, but when it came to actually having our meeting she didn't know what we were doing, our purpose and frankly we didn't get told exactly what were were doing either of our clients. I think the lack of communication and understanding showed in the work from each group, and frustration from all of us. Another complaint about the client work would be saying the winery may be a potential client, and then to find out while we were at the winery they were never contacted about them being potential clients. Me and one other student are planning on working with wine in the future, and that was our ticket for our jobs after we graduated. I had emailed them during this trip and they were able to get back to me right away, so im not sure where the lack of communication may had come from or why it was mentioned during our class prep meetings. I think of next year and future clients if its not something set in stone don't mention it. The whole class was disappointed with the winery for multiple reasons. I hope you haven't stopped reading yet because my trip here was not all negative things I promise. When I got accepted to this trip I had to get out of my comfort zone for two different reasons. One, having a roommate; and two, not being able to go home whenever I wanted. Back in Pullman I live by myself happily; I am the most introverted extrovert as my friends would say. I knew coming into this trip I would have a roommate that I would have to share a room with and not freak out on. Luckily I had become friends with Tylie prior to the trip and warned her about how I get if I don't have my alone time. I found myself becoming more comfortable around people people I don't know and spending extensive amount of time with them, which I never do. I also go home every three weeks when I am in school. Going to school in Pullman allows me to be far enough away from home to come home whenever I want. At home I always miss my family because they're my household and my neighbors and my boyfriend who lives back at home as well. Being across seas not only do I miss all them, but I miss my cat. But I don't exactly have a desire to go home yet... and sadly I have to go back home. Knowing I can spend extensive amount of time away I find myself coming back to Europe and finishing my journey here and other places around the globe in my near future. Another thing I liked was actually being able to work with clients rather than working in a classroom. We lean more knowing that we are actually going to use what we are leaning in real life. Being able to use what we've learned to help companies here was an eye opener to see exactly what I want to do with the rest of my life. I also can use what I've done of my client on my resume which not only gives me experience, but international experience. Outside of all the serious work I liked taking myself out of the box and being pat of a different culture and adapting. Greek culture is different by language, food, and interactions. Not only did we get to experience Greek culture, but we also were able to meet people from around the globe while we were here learning about their culture as well. I didn't expect to meet as many people as I did on this trip considering that I'm pretty introverted at times, but im glad I did. People say going and studying abroad has changed their lives; I don't see my being changed but how I see the world is a bit differently. I did learn things about myself on the way. My story of Greece had its ups and downs, but I don't have any regrets about studying abroad.