#gonna focus on the silly goofy and act as if i didn’t send my friend 7 videos of me screaming abt the ending at midnight when i finished ep6

[queer-reader-07]

yeah yeah heartbreak and all that but can we talk about how silly aziraphale and crowley are?

aziraphale’s all “this human police officer *WINK WINK NUDGE NUDGE*” about muriel as if he didn’t go to Edinburgh just to play the part of “newsPAPER MAN”

crowley’s all “i’m a demon” until he’s high as fuck on laudanum and he’s all “not pretend-yyy good”

crowley’s just really into ducks for no discernible reason and i’m kind of very here for it

like yes yes the heartbreak the crushing weight of existence BUT ALSO ✨silliness✨

[thorne93]

History Repeats (Part 14)

Prompt: Life’s hard, right? Well throw in a not so great job, a broken heart, and chasing a pipe dream in LA. But could someone come along to make all the bad shit disappear? Or is he just another heartbreak waiting around the bend?

Warnings: language, drug addiction, alcohol addiction, angst/heartbreak, adult themes (??)

Word Count: 2525

Note: Aesthetic made by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo because she’s absolutely amazing Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo . Brainstorming from @carryonmyswansong​

**Song Inspiration: I Almost Do by Taylor Swift; 3AM by Halsey; When The Party’s Over by Billie Eilish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up, you felt like shit, and not because of the drugs and alcohol that only recently vacated your system. You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. Did you really kick Hayden out? Were you honestly that far gone? 

Yeah, he broke your heart. He wasn’t the first asshole to do it, but he did stick around. Maybe that was because he had to though.

No, you knew better. He had enough money to stay at a hotel, but he stayed with you. He cared about you. It just hurt so bad to not have him any more. You hadn’t said you loved him, not yet, but you did, you loved him with everything you had and he just… broke everything. 

 Maybe you should go apologize.

Pulling yourself out of bed, you slipped on a comfortable shirt and yoga pants before you trodded out to the guest room, Hayden’s room. You knocked on the door before poking your head in. 

Only, there was nothing there. All of his things gone. His suitcases absent. No note, no letter, not even a post-it note. 

A choked sob escaped you. You knew you kicked him out, but you gave him until the next night. He was already gone?

So much for staying. So much for caring. 

No text, no call, no letter. It seemed as if he truly did want to be gone from you. 

Fine. If that’s the way he wanted it… Wish granted. 

------------------------

Months went by and you tried to forget him, tried to turn your pain into art.

Trey worked hard to get your EP ready. You had several tracks that you wanted to feature and he did enjoy your lyrics and tune. He was happy to work with you and the other members of your band to get the sound you wanted. 

By the time the singles were released, you were already becoming a hit. You hit all of the media platforms and your work exploded, sending you soaring to the charts. You weren’t quite topping them yet, but you were definitely being demanded on the radio and your Youtube and Spotify numbers were great, rising all the time. 

As time went on though, your addiction only grew. With Hayden out of your life, the glaring reminders that you lost all your old friends, and none of your old boyfriends seemed to ever love you, there was nothing to stop you from becoming nearly dependent on the drugs and alcohol. 

You’d never been like this in your life, but you’d never been at such an odd time in your life either. On every romantic and personal front, your life was a total flop, a zero sum. But your career, your dream job was finally taking off. The world was your oyster, you were rubbing shoulders with musical big wigs, meeting huge names and musicisinas. 

Between the complete amazement you were in from being discovered and having your heart broken for the last time, you were a mental mess. 

Hayden wasn’t just another guy. Jason was just another guy, just like every ex before him. 

But Hayden, he was different. When you and Jason split up, it wasn’t the man you mourned, but the death of yet another relationship. With Hayden, you missed him, not being together. You missed the light he brought to your life. You missed the way he supported you. You missed the way you two could joke about movies together. You missed how you could act completely goofy and silly and he joined in. 

You loved him, you were in love with him, and he pulled the rug out from under you.

That was why your habit of using coke was slowly getting worse. You managed to keep your job, for a while, keep the desires away. Then you started to get where you were barely sober for that too and just when your boss mentioned it, you decided it was time to leave anyway. You put in your two weeks and left gracefully.

As soon as you were no longer tied to the hotel, Trey put you in every lounge, venue, and club he could find. You were singing all of your songs on your EP. Every night you did a show, you got off the stage, got drunk or high, or both, and then you crashed. 

Same routine, every night. 

Anything to numb the pain of losing Hayden, of feeling like your life was in shambles. It wasn’t just losing Hayden, it was realizing you had no close friends, no one else to lean on. He’d become your best friend, your confidant, your lover. He was everything you ever wanted or needed, and he was gone. 

Neither of you had sent any messages to each other. It killed you, but you had to move forward, if that’s what you could call drowning your sorrows in a bottle or a baggie. 

Tonight, you just got done singing a set and you were hanging out with Darren, Veronica, Brad, and Tai. Unbeknownst to you, Hayden was actually about to make a stop by this bar. He had some contacts in your circle, a few people he knew in the music world that he asked to keep an eye on you, and if you got too out of control or needed help, they should let him know. He also watched your Instagram and Twitter, keeping an eye on your partying that way.

He’d gotten a few texts before about you, just an update on how you were, but tonight was a red alert from a guy that was somewhat in your circle. He watched you as you did a bump of coke, drink whatever was passed to you, and you were all over everyone in the bar. It was a sloppy mix of drunk-high. You held onto everyone, laughing, trying to crawl on the bar, making a complete ass of yourself. 

Typically your antics were cheered on because everyone in your scene was pretty wild, but even tonight some of them were worried about how you were acting. 

Hayden made his way downtown as soon as he got the text, looking for the bar. Finally, as he walked by, he saw you through the window. You were laughing, throwing your head back, hanging on other people, and trying to dance. 

You were a mess, and that was obvious. 

He pressed his lips into a thin line before going into the bar. He made his way over to you. He wanted to say he felt relief when he saw you, but he didn’t. He just felt worse. He wasn’t an idiot about your drug abuse, he also wasn’t stupid to see what had triggered it. He just thought it was stupid for you to get mixed up in this shit over him. He wasn’t worth it. 

He could see how it was affecting you. Dark circles painted your eyes, your clothes hung loosely on your body, you looked as if you were awake solely from the drugs. He hated how bad you looked.

“Hey,” he greeted loudly over the bar music and patrons. 

You looked over and saw him, your eyes going in and out of focus. “Oh my god, it’s you! Hey! Stay! Have a drink!” you encouraged as you fell all over him, putting your arms around him. In your current state, none of the pain that would’ve normally come from seeing him happened. 

“Hey, no, I’m good. This isn’t really my scene. Y/N, you seem really far gone, do you want me to take you home?” 

You pushed away from him, frowning. “What? No, why would I want that?” You reached in your purse and grabbed something, about to put it in your mouth. “I’m having a good time here, Hayden. You should try it,’ you urged giddily.

“Are you fucking crazy?” he demanded as he slapped the little white thing out of your hand. “Was that fucking E? On top of what you already have in your system?”

“The fuck is your problem?” you ordered, angry.

“My problem is you destroying your life and your body,” he informed.  “I’m taking you home,” he stated firmly. He started to turn you around and push you outside. Everyone started to look your way. 

“No, you aren’t!” you protested loudly, moving wildly, but he just persisted. He went around in front of you, grabbed your wrist, and tugged you outside and started walking you down the sidewalk until you got yourself free of his hold. “Jesus! What the fuck is your deal? Those are my friends. I’m having a good time!” 

“A good time?” he demanded, his voice reigned in anger. “You think this is a good time? You’re out of your fucking mind.” 

“Hey, Mr. Entertainment Business newsflash,a  party-girl image is great publicity. Trey encourages this so long as I’m fine to record.”

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that your producer endorses you getting high and drunk, as long as you’re off the clock.” 

“You aren’t my handler, you’re not my parents, yo’re not my baby sitter, so just fuck off.”

He stared at you, clenching his jaw. “If you want to stay here and become like---If you want to stay here and party, that’s fine, but I’m done. I’m done with this. I’m done watching you ruin your life and throw so much potential away. I’m not gonna stick around to watch you drive your self into rock bottom when I’ve tried like hell to get you to wake the fuck up.”

“You didn’t stick around! Newsflash, asshole! You left! You left me high and dry.” 

“You kicked me out!” he reminded. “After I tried to approach you about your addiction. And I did stick around, you just didn’t know it.” 

“You didn’t approach me about it, you attacked me about it. Besides, what the hell do you mean you’re not going to stick around or watch me? You haven’t been around.” 

Letting out a sigh, he ran his hand down his face. “When I left, I may have asked some friends to keep an eye on you. I told them to update me if you were getting worse or better.”

“You were spying on me?” you asked, gasping.

“No, I just had people keeping an eye on you. If they were at the same party or something, they’d just let me know how you were doing.”

“Oh, nice to know you cared so much,” you retorted, rolling your eyes. You were getting more and more sober with the fresh air and the anger.  

“I do care. I think I’m the only one you know who does’ fucking care about you. I’m the only one not letting you just become an addict. I’m fighting for you.”

“Oh, is that what you were doing when you broke up with me? Fighting for me?”

He glared at you. He didn’t want to have this conversation. “Yes, I was. I was trying to make sure we were making the right choice.”

“Oh, spare me the bullshit!” you shouted, your head falling back. “I’m sick of this. I’m sick of the lies. Just be honest with me. You didn’t care about me, you didn’t love me, you wanted a rebound. You weren’t worried about the both of us. You’re just like everyone else. You wanted something to distract you from your ex leaving you and I was the perfect replacement. Then when you got bored, you cast me aside.” 

“You weren’t a replacement! You weren’t my rebound,” he yelled. 

“Then what was it?!” you screamed. “Because from where I stood, you and I were perfect, more than perfect. We could spend time with each other, lean on each other, support each other, we lived together, I met your child, we had date nights all the time and all of that just -- you ended it. Without warning. We didn’t even talk about it. You didn’t even ask me how I was feeling, if I cared about you. You just decided for the both of us that it would be better if this wasn’t a rebound. But it wasn’t ever about that. It was about me taking putting someone else before me like I always do, and I’m the one who got fucking hurt, not you.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry that you got hurt. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It hurt me too. And it hurts like hell to watch you do this to yourself. You think I liked watching you come home high and drunk all the time?” 

“I don’t imagine it bothered you too much. We weren’t dating any more.” 

He shrugged. “So? Just because I’m not dating you, it doesn’t mean I don’t give a shit about you.”

“See, in my world, it does. You don’t break someone’s fucking heart then try to tell them you still care. You’re the one who decided to date me. I asked, you shot me down. Then, when I was really happy, when I thought this was real, that we had a shot, that this was something that would last and you just ripped it away. No conversation.” 

He shook his head. “Yeah, and I’m sorry for that. I am. I should’ve talked to you, but is this really what you want? You want to be so numb and fucked up on drugs you can’t function?”

“I can function just fine, thanks for checking in!”

“I can’t believe you’re fine with this. You’ve been so strong since I met you. Going after your dream, working hard at your job, you never would’ve given into this bullshit, despite what happened between us.” 

“Yeah, well shit changes. Clearly you know that.”

“Nothing changed. I cared for you then, and I do now.” 

You scoffed. “Spare me, alright? It was clear to me after you left you never gave a shit. I licked your wounds so you could heal and then you left me. Fuck off. You don’t get the right to tell me where I can hang out, what I can do, or when I can do it.” You got in his face, your voice low before you turned around to head back inside. 

He stood there more upset than he had been when you two first broke up. He wasn’t sure what he thought he would gain from coming out tonight. He just thought he could save you from yourself. He knew he was the reason you went on the downward spiral but he didn’t know how to fix it. 

He bit his lip to keep from crying as he watched you rejoin your friends and pick up a shot glass and knock it back. He shook his head as he turned to walk down the street.

He couldn’t keep doing this to himself, or to you. He needed to move on. He couldn’t watch you suffer any more. He had tried to help you. Every time he did though, you turned him down - hard. 

With his heart heavy, he took a taxi back to his new hotel and tried to forget all about you.

If only it were that easy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forever Tag:

@essie1876​

@magpiegirl80​

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​​

@marvel-imagines-yes-please​​

@missinstantgratification​​

@thejemersoninferno​​

@rda1989​​

@munlis​​

@thefridgeismybestie​​

@bubblyanarocks3​​

@igiveupicantthinkofausername​​

@kaliforniacoastalteens​​

@feelmyroarrrr​​

@kaeling​​

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​​

@damalseer​​

@heyitscam99​​

@yknott81​​

@sorryimacrapwriter​​

@glitterquadricorn​​

@bittersweetunicorm​​

@alyssaj23​​

@sea040561​​

@princess76179​​

@thisismysecrethappyplace​​

@sarahp879​​

@malfoysqueen14​​

@ellallheart​​

@breezy1415​​

@marvelmayo​​

@lyniboy​​

@paintballkid711​​

@pandacookieowo​​

@beiroviski​​

Hayden Christensen:

@coldlilheart​​

@haydens-moles​​

History Repeats:

@multifandomblog315​​

[writingthegoodwrite]

Sunshine in the Moonlight

Minhyuk x Reader

A/N: mention of past accident and scars but nothing very descriptive. Needs some editing tomorrow, but not feeling so well tonight. I hope you enjoy! ☆

Word Count: 3,361

After your accident you didn’t get into relationships. You didn’t know how to let people in anymore. You’ve been seeing Minhyuk for nearly a year but as usual you were hesitant to make anything official. He accidentally sees your scars before you were ready to show them, then he starts spending more time working late nights. You decide to walk away so he doesn’t have to.

After picking up the supplies you needed for a photo shoot you were working on, you made a quick stop and picked up mango ice cream and Minhyuk’s favorite take-out.

You wanted to surprise him with a nice evening. It was Tuesday night and you always spent the night together. It was a date night of sorts and you wanted to make this one wonderful for you both.

It would be the last.

Pain twisted in your chest at the thought of walking away from him. You let out a ragged sigh as you pulled into the parking garage. You parked near the elevator and took a second to look at your reflection in the rear view mirror. You looked heartbroken.

“This is why you don’t get too close, y/n,” you said to your reflection, “It just isn’t in the cards for us.”

You rested your head on the steering wheel, trying to summon the energy to be happy for one final night with him.

You had been seeing Minhyuk weekly for just over a year. You never intended to make it a regular event, but he wasn’t one to take no for an answer.

You had worked on many shoots with him and the rest of the group as a stylist. After a few months they started bringing you in before appearances as well and you worked almost exclusively on Minhyuk and Shownu.

Shownu was quiet and polite, and Minhyuk was a talker. A total motor mouth. You got to know him pretty well, and vice versa. He didn’t just talk about himself but also asked questions as well. At this point he knew nearly everything about you.

He was very observant and asked early on why you always wore long sleeve shirts even when it was summer and you were clearly suffering from the humidity. You told him how you fell off a balcony and went fell into a glass table when you were a teenager. As a result, you had scars scattered across the front of your body. You didn’t like to answer questions about them or have people look at you differently. You told him that you were more comfortable keeping them to yourself for the time being, and he accepted that and didn’t push the subject.

For your birthday he gave you several beautiful short sleeved tops. On top of them was a note that said, For when you’re ready.

Underneath them was another, smaller note.

His phone number.

It started out with just texting. Silly pictures, goofy jokes, and increasingly ridiculous memes as you became more familiar with each other’s sense of humor.

One night while he was on tour overseas he “accidentally” video called you on Line.

The calls became a daily ritual, and he eventually convinced you to grab a coffee with him when he returned.

Weekly coffee slowly turned into lunch. Then lunch into dinner, until it evolved into takeout and movies at your place once a week.

He made it clear he wanted to be with you but he also insisted that he was happy just to spend time with you. He never pushed you for anything you weren’t ready for.

The first movie night you wore one of the shirts he gave you and the way his face lit up, you thought he might really be the one you could let into your heart.

He waited for you to make the first move and when you finally did, you wished you hadn’t waited so long. He made you believe in him. Trust him to see you. To really see you.

After you had recovered people started to treat you differently. You weren’t just y/n anymore. All they could see was your accident. Your boyfriend distanced himself from you, and your friends stopped inviting you out. You accidentally overheard your best friend say that she didn’t know how to act around you anymore, that it killed the mood having to see me “trying” so hard to be happy.

The thing was, you had been happy. Until that moment you had come to terms with your scars. It wasn’t easy in the slightest, but you were happy you still had your life and a chance at a future. It could have been so much worse.

It was after you heard what wasn’t meant for your ears that you started wearing clothes to cover yourself because you were sick of the looks of pity. In the end, you decided to finish your studies abroad. Go someplace where no one knew your past.

You created a new life for yourself. You threw yourself into your studies and work, and now 6 years later you were entirely self sufficient. You had even been thinking of finally telling Minhyuk that you were ready to maybe give a relationship a chance.

That was until he walked in on you coming out of the shower. He saw everything. He hadn’t known you were in there, he usually made it to your place before you got home. That evening you had finished work early and decided to take a quick shower before he got there so you could have extra time together. He had just arrived and went to use the bathroom when you were stepping out of the shower and reaching for your towel.

You could tell he was lost in thought most of the night. He tried to assure you that he looked away before he saw anything, but his silence worried you.

Over the course of the next week he wasn’t texting as much as usual, and he was spending a lot of late nights at the studio.

You tried not to worry, but your old insecurities started to creep back in.

You knew you couldn’t wait any longer, the ice cream would be melting. So you gathered your courage and your supplies and you took the elevator up to your floor.

You arms were full so you knocked your elbow a few times on the door hoping Minhyuk would come let you in. Your arms got tired waiting, so you set everything down so you could open the door.

It was locked. Weird, he always calls if he isn’t going to beat me here. Once you got everything inside and put away you dug your phone out of your bag to see if you had any missed calls.

Nothing.

You send him a quick text asking if he was alright.

Heyyyy! I think I left my newest lyric book at your place. It should be on your bedside table. Could you bring it to me? It’s gonna be a long night here. I’ll owe you one!!

Your heart sank. He never forgot date night. You sent him short response saying you’d check and then bring it after your shower.

You put all the food away, figuring you could reheat it for lunch for the next couple days. You took a longer shower than you intended and when you got out you didn’t even look in the mirror while you brushed your teeth and dried your hair. You put on your black hoodie and snoopy pajama shorts and slowly shuffled your way back to your room to get dressed.

You were in no hurry for this. You would just break it to him tonight that you needed some time for yourself.

It was the last thing you wanted. But maybe it was what you both needed.

You pushed your bedroom door open and nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw the shadow of someone sitting in your reading nook. The moon was shining in behind him, but you knew Minhyuk’s shape anywhere.

You gave a nervous laugh and said, “Ok, so what was up with the bogus text about your lyric book?” You gestured at the night stand and looked over to see there was no notebook there but he had something in his hand.

Your heart sank. “Oh…you came to get it yourself…” He must have not been able to wait. “I’m sorry I made you wait. I was just kinda…”

“Mad I missed date night?” His voice held a trace a laughter but also sounded nervous.

You started to deny it, but stopped yourself and nodded. “Yeah, a little maybe. Rehearsal run late?”

He looked nervous but his gaze held yours as he said, “No. Not exactly.” He patted the seat next to him. “We should talk.”

You honestly couldn’t say how your legs held you up as you walked over and sat on the cushioned seat next to him. You couldn’t focus. You were looking everywhere but at him. It was one thing for you to walk away from him, but you didn’t know if you could handle him being the one.

“Look I get it, ok?” You forced yourself to meet his gaze. “I get it. You don’t have to-” you searched for the right words.

It was Minhyuk’s turn to look thoroughly confused. “Wait, what do you get?”

You shrugged, “That it was more than you bargained for. I don’t blame you, alright?.”

The look of confusion was replaced with annoyance. “Blame me for what, exactly?” He placed a hand over the fist you hadn’t realized you made. “Why don’t you let me tell you what I’ve been doing so we can be on the same page.”

You unclenched your fist allowing him to turn your hand over and lace his fingers through yours, and then you took a deep breath. You nodded and waited for him to continue.

“After that night, I had a lot on my mind.” He looked down at your linked hands. “I had a lot of feelings, but I didn’t know how to express them properly.”

You closed your eyes and tried to gather your thoughts. You prepared for the worst.

“I made this for you.”

Your eyes snapped open and saw that Minhyuk was holding a small square package out to you. You opened the box and there was a CD inside.

You opened the case and saw the tracks titles were scrawled in Minhyuk’s handwriting around the edge of the disc.

They were some of your favorite songs, along one a few names you weren’t familiar with. He expressed his feelings in the way he was best at. Music.

“Is this what you’ve been working on?” He looked anxious for you to continue so you pulled out the paper from the case and read it. It had one line written on it.

I’m not going anywhere.

He knew all about what happened with your ex, and the issues you had because if your past. So he knew that this was something you needed to hear.

All the pain and insecurities that built up fell away and you couldn’t stop the tears you had been desperately trying to hold back. You clutched the CD and note to your chest as you attempted to steady your breathing.

Minhyuk’s eyes glittered in the moonlight and he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you ok? What are you thinking?” He scooted closer and slipped a warm arm around your shoulders.

You laid your head down on his shoulder and whispered, “I just thought it was too much for you. You’ve been quiet, which is so not you, then I thought you forgot about tonight.”

When another rush of tears threatened to spill over Minhyuk turned you and wrapped his arms around you, “Come here.” He rubbed his hands up and down your back, hating to see you cry. “Shhhhh…hey hey, you have nothing to be self conscious about with me. Not ever. You hear me?”

You nodded into his shoulder and waited for your heartbeat to slowly return to normal.

Minhyuk pulled back and placed a hand on each shoulder, waiting until you raised your eyes to his. “No. Y/n, really. I need you to hear me. Your past doesn’t define you. These scars don’t define you. They are a part of you, but not all of you.”

You smiled and placed your hands over his and gave them a squeeze. “I hear you. It’s gonna take some time, but I hear you.”

Finding you were able to focus again, you noticed another box on the sill behind Minhyuk.

He followed your eyes and looked back at you with a tentative smile. He pulled out a sleep mask and held it up. “I wanted to try something.” He raised an eyebrow, “Do you trust me?”

For the first time in years you didn’t feel a single ounce of hesitation. “Yes. Absolutely.”

His eyes sparkled in the light and his smile was so bright you couldn’t help but smile in return.

Minhyuk reached forward to place the mask over your head but hesitated before bringing it down over your eyes. “Still OK?”

Your curiosity was piqued, “Go ahead.”

He settled the mask over your eyes and brought his hands down to take both of yours in his. He ran his thumbs over the back of your hands and you felt the seat shift as he got up. “Alright, can you stand up for me?”

He pulled you to your feet and you smiled when he placed one hand on your side to keep you steady.

His other hand held the zipper to your hoodie, but he didn’t make a move. “May I?”

You took his hand and pulled it along with the zipper down. You felt your skin heat up as Minhyuk slipped his cool hands under the shoulders of your hoodie and ran his hands down your arms letting it slip to the floor.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for a reaction. The silence was deafening. “Umm….Hyuk? You ok?”

He let out the breath he had been holding, “I’m sorry, it’s just…your skin in the moonlight…”

Within his short pause your mind finished the sentence a thousand different ways.

“You’re stunning, y/n.” He pulled you back to the nook and helped you sit down. “Be my canvas?”

“Your what?” You heard some light clacking as he dug around in the box of supplies he had. Your eyes fluttered shut behind the mask as he ran a paintbrush across your collarbone. “Alright then, where do you want me?”

“Lay back against the pillows. I need the moonlight to see.”

You settled yourself against the pillows and relaxed, waiting to see what happened next.

Minhyuk put the CD on low before coming back and sitting next to you on the cushions. “Lean toward me?”

You started to turn towards him and you felt him slip a pillow under your right side. He knows how your hip bothers you, and it touched your heart that he always made sure you were comfortable.

He sang quietly along with the music while he ran different paintbrushes along your skin. Goosebumps raised up along your arms as he continued the long languid strokes.

The brushing stopped and you heard what sounded like a lid coming off a jar. Your back arched when you felt the paintbrush return to your skin, now having been dipped into a cool paint.

You gave yourself over to the sensations he brought out in you. Not only the tingles and shivers you felt from the brushing, but this new sense of freedom, the realization that you could truly trust him.

Then a dark thought suddenly came unbidden out of left field. He’s just hiding your scars with paint…

All of a sudden couldn’t feel the brush strokes anymore. You felt nauseous. You sat up, knocking Minhyuk out of your way. You knew he meant well, and you don’t want to hurt him but you couldn’t help the tears that start to fall.

He saw the tears slipping under the mask and immediately removed it. “Baby, what is it? What’s the matter?” His voice cracked and he was visibly shaken. He gently wiped the tears away as they slipped down your cheeks.

You closed your eyes, afraid to look down. “What are you doing, Hyuk?” You needed to hear his words, so you could figure out how to process what was happening.

He reached off the side and grabbed your hoodie off of the floor and placed it over your shoulders. “Do you remember the first shoot we did together?”

You opened your eyes and pondered the question. “Of course, I mean, I remember parts of it.”

“Remember how I asked you to try to help me hide some of my insecurities?”

“Yeah,” you smiled at the memory, he had been so nervous early on. “You just lacked confidence.”

“And you told me to trust you. You helped me own my insecurities and find my confidence.”

“I just believed in you,” you narrowed your eyes slightly, “but what does that have to do with anything?”

“What did you tell me you were doing, when you styled me and didn’t let me hide?” Minhyuk stood up and held his hands out for you.

You cautiously placed your hands in his and allowed him to help you up. “I don’t remember…”

He cupped your face in his hands and his eyes were warm and patient as they held yours, “You told me you were highlighting my strengths.” He turned you around to face the standup mirror by the wall.

You took a deep breath in and out before looking up to your reflection. Your heart caught in your chest at what you saw.

He hadn’t covered your scars at all but drew delicate patterns beside them. Swirling lines that mirrored the same curves and lines. In between them he made little star bursts made of gold glitter.

It was beautiful.

You looked beautiful.

Minhyuk pushed your hair off to the side and pressed a warm kiss to the side of your neck. His voice was husky as he whispered, “You are perfect to me.”

You let your hoodie fall  to the floor and leaned back against his chest enjoying his warmth against your back.

He wrapped one arm snug around your waist and the other across your chest, his fingers playing with the skin between your neck and shoulder. “You know you inspire me? Every single day. You’ve helped me become a better man, y/n.”

Your gaze met his in the mirror and you were shocked to see tears shining on his cheeks. You leaned your forehead on his cheek and closed your eyes, savoring the moment.

“You’re the first person that’s made me want to try a relationship. The first person to really make me feel attractive.” He turned to press a kiss to your forehead. “So how about it?”

You leaned back so you could see his face, “How about what?”

“How about you and me give us a shot?” His brows knit together with worry while he waited for your reply.

“How about some cold take out and a horror movie and then we talk?” You winked and pulled him toward the living room. “I have a date that I’m late for.”

Minhyuk stepped up and pulled you close, capturing your lips with his for a quick kiss. “I’m sorry for worrying you this past week. I just had to find a way to show you that I’m all in if you’re willing to give me a chance.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and enjoyed his steady heartbeat against your ear. “I am all in, Min.” You pulled back and pointed a finger at his chest, “However, if you recount this story to the rest of the group, I was wearing something more sophisticated than an old bra and snoopy shorts. Are we clear?”

He couldn’t stop smiling. You could nearly see his wisdom teeth, he was smiling so big. “Crystal.”

[kumkaniudaku]

Look At Me

A/N: The second Halloween fic. I had high hopes for this, but ended up cutting a lot to save y’all from a 10,000 world one-shot. Still, I hope you enjoy my first attempt at spooky (?) things. 

Warnings: Horror themes. Not proofread...yet.

Word Count: 5,074

In a year of firsts for the young couple, Chadwick and Tasha had finally arrived at the eight-month mark of their relationship and a beloved tradition for them: Halloween. In college, Tasha was known to drag Chadwick to parties across the campus, often convincing him to attend despite his general disdain for the holiday. To him, dressing up in an uncomfortable costume to stand around and maybe dance for a few hours wasn’t worth hassle. For Tasha, the fun of dressing up and stepping outside of normal life was exciting.

This year, however, the roles had mysteriously reversed. Chadwick was excited to put together the Laura Winslow and Steve Urkel couple’s costume he had spent weeks preparing while Tasha seemed to be on edge. The unsettling suspicion that this year was not normal sat on her shoulders like a heavy cloak, and she couldn’t shake the feeling.

Even as she stood in the mirror examining her outfit from all angles, the thought passed through her mind in a never-ending loop.

“Oooooh, Laura,” Chadwick sang, putting on a nasally tone to embody Steve Urkel's essence. Tasha rolled her eyes and continued to stare in the mirror to judge the length of her skirt in the back. Chadwick rested his body against the door frame for a moment, admiring the woman in front of him. “Wow, you look nice. The short wig reminds me of how big your head was back then.”

“Hardy-har-har, Aaron. Aren’t you just the comedian this evening.”

Chadwick took immediate note of Tasha’s despondent tone and quirk a bushy brow over the frame of his glasses, “You okay, Co? This is your thing, but you’ve been out of it all day. Wanna talk about it?”

“I just - I don’t know. Forget it,” she answered while waving him off. “It’s all in my head.”

“You sure?”

“I’m positive.” Chadwick watched Tasha move around the bedroom in curious silence as she searched for items to stick into her purse. “So, where are we going again? And who all is coming? You haven’t given me any details yet.”

“It’ll be the usual suspects. Me, you, your friends....my friends.”

“Your friends like who?” Tasha could sense that her fiance was being vague on purpose, but would not let him skate by without providing answers.

“Shit…you know, friends!”

“Are any of these friends Maurice? The one I can’t stand.”

“No!”

“You’re lying,” Tasha accused, eyeing him closely to catch a glimpse of the subtle signs that pointed to his dishonesty. Sure enough, his left hand flew to the back of his neck to fiddle with the coiled hairs at the nape, a sure-fire indication that he was being less than truthful.

“What? I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Then you better stop talking now, because all I hear is a lie.”

Accepting defeat, Chadwick moved to kneel in front of his lady to begin the second phase of the begging process. “Hear me out, baby. I know you and him don’t see eye to eye, b-”

“Say it how it is. I don’t like him. He’s an egotistical asshole who always gets his “friends” into problems that they end up solving because he is too inept to figure them out by himself. Now, you may continue.”

“Damn, that’s how you really feel?”

“I was holding back for your sake. I can keep going if you want me to.”

“No,” Chadwick exclaimed to stop the onslaught of less than savory comments he was expecting to receive. “I’ll pass, thank you. I promise, though, nothing will happen. The first moment you get uncomfortable, we’ll leave. Deal?”

“Can I get that in writing?”

“Only if I can get a kiss.” A short stare-off between the two preceded and gentle kiss and a few giggles from Tasha. “I promise, nothing will happen tonight.”

“You damn right. Not as long as I have something to say about it. Now, if you don’t mind, please step to the side. You’re squishing my sneakers.”

Looking down, Chadwick noticed his knee creating a dent at the toe of Tasha’s Nike’s that were peeking from beneath the bed. Now presented the perfect opportunity to debut what he’s been working on all day.

A sneaky smirk spread across his face as he locked eyes with Tasha. She knew that look all too well. He was about to unleash something silly that would either annoy her or send her into a fit of giggles.

“Don’t say it.”

“I’m saying it.”

“Please, no.”

“Too late,” he smiled, taking a pause for dramatic effect. “Did I do that?”

“You said it. That’s it. We’re staying here.”

“Wait, no,” Chadwick called after Tasha as she made her way into the Master bathroom. “I was joking, baby. I won’t say it again!”

                                         __________

Tasha watched trees pass the window in large green blurs, trying to ignore the churning in her gut that she thought she’d gotten rid of before leaving the house. Chadwick’s hand rested comfortably on her thigh in an attempt to soothe his fiance without words. If had known that coordinating Halloween antics with Maurice would make her this upset, he would’ve settled for the industry party he was invited to. Unfortunately, it was too late.

“You’re listening to KFI AM 640 where we give you more stimulating talk. Hey, look, before you go out with your friends or your lady to celebrate Spooky Season as the kids call it, let this tidbit of information set the mood.”

Talk radio, or any radio for that matter, playing in the car was a rarity for Chadwick. He preferred his curated old school hip-hop and classic r&b stations across the popular streaming platforms. Had his mind been focused on the sounds around him, he would’ve changed the settings and reconnected to the Bluetooth.

“Today, Halloween, is the 25th anniversary of the Castleberry Murders. All you transplants and tourist don’t know what that is, but around here, the Castleberry Estate is off limits. The story goes like this. John Castleberry, son of Diane and Elias Castleberry was a soft-spoken kid that didn’t get much attention from his parents because of their acting careers. When he turned 21, he decided he was fed up with his parents’ treatment and murdered his family in their sleep. According to police reports and documentaries, the murder was so gruesome, detectives refused to enter the crime scene.”

“Aaron, turn that off,” Tasha requested, snapping Chadwick out of his thoughts.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Wanna know what the craziest part about all this is? John was never caught. There’s people that say he still lives in the city limits. Others say he works in the film industry overseas to get the attention his parents never gave hi-”

“That’s what’s wrong. Turn it off!”

“It’s just a story, Co. It’s probably not even true.”

“That’s not the point. Please, turn it off.”

“Okay, okay.” Chadwick relented with no further protest. Using the directional pad on his steering wheel, he attempted to change the station but found that the system wasn’t responding.

“I’m out of here in a few, but here are some spooky toons to hold you until I get back.”

“Chadwick!”

“Fuck, I’m trying! It won’t switch the station.”

“There is someone walking behind you...” Vocals from The Vogues meant to serve as a romantic reminder filled the front seat with chilling energy that neither passenger had ever felt before. “There is someone watching your footsteps. Turn around, look at me.”

“Please! I’m scared!”

Chadwick struggled with the knob on the radio to no avail, leaving the song to play and distort under its own power. Having had enough of fighting with the object, the palm of his hand collided with the button to shut the system down completely.

Tasha’s labored breaths became the only sound for several moments as she fought to stop her heart from playing a deafening concerto in her ears.

“I-I don’t know what happened. I guess it’s time for maintenance,” Chadwick whispered more to himself than to anyone else. The car came to a slow stop at a red light, giving him the chance to turn and look Tasha. “You okay?”

“No! I am not okay. I’m everything, but okay, right now.”

“Calm down, T.”

“Calm down?! Are you serious, Chadwick? You don’t any of this strange?”

“I told you that it’s time for maintenance. Look,” he added before pointing to the digital dashboard. “Right there. The light just came on.”

Tasha leaned forward for a better look to confirm Chadwick’s findings. Sure enough, an amber light stood out among the rest to indicate the car needed to be serviced as soon as possible.

“Everything is gonna be okay, baby. You gotta trust me.” Chadwick was careful with his movements as he reached over the middle console to interlace his fingers with Tasha’s. Bringing her hands to his mouth, he places a tender kiss to her knuckles. “We’re having fun tonight. Don’t let that trash ass song and fake story ruin our good time.”

Chadwick’s goofy smile and the playful twinkle in his eyes helped to release some of the tension Tasha was holding, leading to an audible sigh of relief.

“Whatever. But, Aaron, I swear if I start feeling weird again -”

“We have to leave. I know, baby. I plan to keep my word.”

“Mhmm,” she mumbled between pecks from Chadwick. “We’ll see. Focus on catching this light before I have to smack this old ass lady. Go around us, damn!”

Directions provided by Siri led the couple to a run-down venue surrounded by unkempt shrubbery. This time, it was Chadwick’s turn to battle with an uneasy feeling as he took a look around the property for any sign of life.

“Let me guess, Maurice told you about this place, huh?”

“Don’t start, Co.”

“That’s what you should’ve told his dumb ass,” Tasha ranted under her breath. “Should I call him and let him know we won’t be staying or will you do the honors?”

“Give him time to show up, then we’ll tell him. I want to hear his explanation in person.”

“You really wanna sit here and watch him those beady eyes look back you and tell you a lie? Couldn’t be me.”

“Tasha, chill.” Chadwick’s was patience was wearing thin with his friend and sarcastic comments from the peanut gallery were not helping the cause. Though Tasha had more comments to unleash, a line of cars entering the lot kept them tucked behind her full lips. “See, we were just early. I’ll ask him what happened.”

“So, I can’t say anything?”

“Nothing.”

“Not even a little bit? Just a teeny tiny bit?”

Pulling his hand back into the care after waving Maurice over, Chadwick turned to give Tasha a stern look. “Nothing. Nada. Let me handle it and we can go.” Tasha’s desire to leave as soon as possible outweighed her need to chastise a grown man though she would’ve loved to hand Maurice a piece of her mind. Instead, she busied herself with social media apps while her man handled the issue.

The faint buzz of the windows rolling down filled the air until Chadwick’s recent friend dressed as Lucky from Poetic Justice was able to return Chadwick’s handshake inside the car.

“Aye man, what type of shit you got us at?”

“Me? You sent the text message with the directions. I was just about to ask you the same shit.”

“Bullshit. I didn’t even know this place existed. I got a text from an unknown number saying it was you and you had to get a new phone or something.”

“Nah, that can’t be right. This what you sent me this morning.” Maurice pulled his cell phone from his pocket to open is message app and show Chadwick the contents of the text he received earlier. “It’s all you brotha. I was just following directions.”

“Wha-,” Chadwick muttered, unable to finish his sentence as he read the message for the third time. While the contact name and number belonged to him, the message did not. “I didn’t send that. Here, you can look for yourself.”

Maurie copied Chadwick’s previous actions and read over the text message before handing the phone back to his friend. “I don’t know what the hell goin’ on, but we ain’t ‘bout to stay and try to figure the shit out. Y’all trynna hit up Avalon. My homeboy said he could get us in if we get there by 10.”

“That cool with you, baby,” Chadwick asked looking in your direction.

“Oh,” you started, feigning shock at being acknowledged. “Can I talk now, Master?”

Rolling his eyes, he rotated his head against the headrest to refocus his attention on Maurice.

“We’re coming. Just lead the way.” A short handshake to end the conversation sent Maurice to the other cars to relay the information. Chadwick focused on damage control and determining the new cause of Tasha’s attitude in the meantime. “What’s wrong with you now?”

“I’m fine. Ecstatic. Wonderful. Couldn’t be happier!”

“Stop, T. You’re not fine.”

“I just find it funny how he can suggest a new idea and you trip over yourself to make it happen, but I say I wanna stay home because I’m uncomfortable and it’s a big deal.” Chadwick opened his mouth to speak but was stopped before he could rattle of an excuse. “Save it. Start the car up so we can go.”

More interested in dropping the bubbling argument than ruining the remainder of the night, Chadwick turned the key in the ignition to restart the car. Instead of expected purr of the engine, their ears were met with a stalling sound and a hollow clunk. Several subsequent tries yielded the same results until there were no sounds at all.

Maurice and the remainder of the group faced the same issue, trying over and over to start their engines with no success.

“Yours down too, man,” Cedric, another member of the group called from his Porsche. “I just got this shit. It shouldn’t be acting like this.”

“This ain’t even my whip. The dealership gave me this until my car was finished in the shop. Keisha, get them niggas on the phone.”

“It’s Saturday at 9:30 pm, jackass,” Maurice’s wife called from the passenger side of their vehicle. “Ain’t nobody answering the damn phone.”

“We can take a look at it real quick and call somebody if we need to. Stay in here, T. This shouldn’t take long.”

Collectively, Cedric, Maurice, and Chadwick crowded around the hood of Maurice’s BMV to figure out the problem. When no answers turned up to explain how three different cars were suffering the same fate, Chadwick resorted to technology.

“Baby, see if we have cell phone service around here.”

“I already did. I have some, but not enough to hold a call.”

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath. “We don’t have service over here. Anybody else workin’ with something?”

Answers scattered across the group all ended with the same conclusion: there was no cell phone service, and seemingly no other hope but to walk until they could find help.

“Fuck it. There’s a cell phone tower going that way,” Maurice pointed out as he motioned ahead of the group. “If we all walk in the direction together, somebody gotta get some bars in the bitch.”

“Walk? In these shoes. Hell no,” Shameeka, Cedric’s girlfriend protested.

“Okay then, girl, stay by yourself. C’mon, Aaron. I don’t like the way this is turning out, so the quicker we figure out what’s happening, the quicker we can get out of here.”

Once the entire group agreed to walk together, the plan was set in motion. As Maurice suspected, the signal strength on everyone’s cell phone did increase. For once, it seemed as if the usually clueless grown man was able to figure out a problem.

“I got some bars,” Shameeka announced. “Baby, should I make the call or s-” A shrill scream cut the young woman’s inquiry short as the ground beneath her caved in. There was no opportunity to react before her body plummeted to steep fall, ending in a blood curdling scream and crunch that was sure to result in several broken bones.

“Yo, what fuck! Meeka! Meeka, can you hear me?” Cedric desperately shouted for his woman to respond, but no answer was returned.

A quick look over the hole left behind revealed two things: whatever she had fallen into was an orchestrated trap and Shameeka wouldn’t be responding anytime soon. Her body lay lifeless and horribly disfigured from the fall. The sight was too much for Tasha to handle, leaving her to bury her face into Chadwick’s chest.

“What the fuck, man? I ain’t come out for this shit. What’s going on.”

“Welcome to the Castleberry Estate,” as sinister voice began over unseen loudspeakers. “Are you ready for your close up?”

“Fuuuuck, fuck, fuck,” Keisha chanted. “Fuck, we gon’ die. We gon’ fuckin’ die and it’s your fault, Maurice!”

“I ain’t do shit! This was Chad’s idea.”

“Why the hell would I set us up to die, idiot? Just because you got us in some stupid shit doesn’t mean you can pass it off on me,” Chadwick accused as he began pacing in place. “I should’ve listen to Tasha. Fuck! I’m sorry, baby. You were right.”

“Shh,” Chatter and movement stopped at Tasha’s request as she came to a disturbing realization. “Did you hear what he said. The Castleberry Estate. The one from the-”

“Radio,” Chadwick finished. “It’s the story from the radio.”

“Y’all heard that too. We tried to change the station, but it - it wouldn’t work.”

“Ah, you all have gotten my invitation. I’m happy to have you here.”

“He can hear us,” Keisha questioned in fear.

“Of course I can hear you. I can see you as well. I’ve been able to see all of you for a while now. I’m glad you could make it.”

“What do you want from us?”

“Oh, the answer to that is simple, Chadwick. Perform...or die.”

“What? Why?”

“For years I watched my parents get sucked into the evil world of filmmaking. Everyday they would forget about me to make movies for audiences would never meet. Years later, all of you continue to engage in the same filth! And for what? To torment me day in day out with the same senseless babble that my parents started?”

Running his long fingers through the coils atop his head, Chadwick tried to make sense of the information being relayed to him from an unknown source.

“But what does that have to do with us? You got your revenge already!”

“I merely started my revenge. Tonight, I continue my quest to exterminate the industry one person at a time.”

Standing to his feet, Cedric took one last look at his girlfriend before addressing the group. “Man, fuck this. I’m leaving. Y’all can sit here and let this nigga with Mommy and Daddy issues scare y’all, but I’m going to find some help!”

“No, Ced, wait!”

Trying to stop him was futile. Cedric’s attempt to escape was shut down in seconds following an assumed rifle shot to the back of the head. Too afraid to make a sound, Tasha felt the wind rush out of her body as her knees gave out beneath her.

“There is no escape, but if anyone else would like to try, be my guest. I’ll try to make your death as painless as possible.”

Wails of terror interfered with Chadwick’s ability to process rational thoughts while he searched for a solution. The group of six had been cut down by two in a matter of minutes, leaving no discernable way of the clutches of the madman coordinating a sinister home movie.

“All we have to do is perform,” Chadwick shouted into the night sky to God knows who.

“Ding, ding, ding! The script is prepared. Stick to the role and you could make it out alive. Are you ready for your first scene?”

Chadwick scanned the leftover members of the group of the group hoping for any guidance on what they should do next. His comfort came from Tasha who had finally recovered from her dizzy spell to grab his hand.

A simple head nod was her way of agreeing to whatever he decided. If they were going to get through this, they would need each other. Maurice fought to calm his wife’s hysterical crying while Chadwick readied himself to provide an answer.

“The clock is ticking. Do we have a deal, or should I audition someone else?”

“We-we have a deal. Give us the first instructions.”

A dark laugh boomed across the lawn of the estate, bouncing from rickety iron fence to flickering light pole and back again.

“Wonderful. This first scene is improv. I’m sure you’re familiar with that Ms. Comedian,” the voice chuckled in reference to Keisha. “I’ve seen your shows, but I’m not impressed. Maybe you could redeem yourself here. The task is simple. Someone has to burn and you have 10 minutes to figure out who before I decide for you. The materials are in the front parlor of the house. And...action!”

The group exchanged looks steeped in terror and confusion before making a mad dash for the inside of the house. Swinging open the door put the gang face to face with the pungent odor of decay and waste. As promised, the short walk to the front parlor led them to an array of burning devices ranging from small fire to full-blown blaze.

“Eight minutes, people. Seven minutes fifty-nine... fifty-eight.”

“What are we gonna do?”

“I don’t wanna die, Mo! Please, don’t make me do this!”

“You not gon’ die, baby, I swear. Let us figure it out real quick. C’mon, we gotta figure this shit out! We gotta figure this shit out, man! Help, Chad!”

“Fuck, okay, let’s think!”

“We don’t have time for that shit. One of us is gonna fuckin’ die if we don’t figure this shit out.”

“Look,” Tasha shouted. “There’s some type of mannequin in the corner. Give me your dress!”

“What?”

“Do you wanna live or die?” Keisha studied Tasha’s face for a moment before silently slipping out of the red replica of Tina Turner’s iconic dress that covered her brown skin.

Tasha worked in relative silence while the group watched her dress and hang the mannequin from the ceiling. She was careful to angle the rigged body in a precise manner, though the reason was unknown to those around her. Ripping a piece of the curtain, she tucked the tattered fabric into the dress before turning to Maurice.

“Douse the end of this in the fluid and light it with a match. Don’t stand too close.” Tasha then turned her attention to Keisha to silently direct her to stand in the corner of the room and remain silent.

“Why can’t you do it?”

“Just shut the fuck up and do it dumbass. Do you wanna die in here tonight?”

Maurice seemed to give the idea serious thought until Keisha cleared her throat to get his attention. With a nudge from his wife, Maurice did as he was told. The blaze was bright enough to force the group to shield their eyes and it engulfed the mannequin before anyone could process what had just happened.

Seconds after the deed was done, feedback from the speakers made way for the voice on the other end.

“Now, that was a production. Well done, team. Keisha was a kind woman. I’m sure someone in the world will miss her. Are we ready for the second scene?” The voice waited for an answer but did not receive one. “A quiet bunch, I see. No worries. One of you won’t be so quiet during this next one. Down the hallway, you will find a bathroom. Let’s stage a peaceful night in gone wrong. I want to see sparks fly, Mr. Director. You have fifteen minutes until showtime!”

“Wait! Who is Mr. Director?”

Chadwick received no reply from the voice on the other end, only an ominous laugh and the soft thud of a microphone hitting a flat surface.

“T, what the fuck just happened back there.”

Looking around, Tasha took a step to her left and point to her mouth. “You have to read my lips,” she mouthed without sound. “There are cameras. Five of them. He can see and hear us. You have to stay out of the way.”

“How,” Chadwick questioned.

“Pay attention to me. I’ll tell you where to stand.”

All nodded in agreement before allowing Tasha to take the lead and usher them out of the room. A dingy bathroom not suitable for human visitor living or dead became the next set of the horror movie being filmed at their expense. Again, Tasha instructed Keisha to stand out of the way of the camera she had detected upon entry.

“Mo, I think you’re Mr. Director. This is your scene.”

“Oh my God,” he groaned, distraught at the revelation.

“Listen to me, maybe you can get out of this alive, but you gotta get in that tub.”

Maurice hesitated for a moment as fear paralyzed his body. Stepping out of eyesight, Tasha gave him careful instructions to enter the worn-in bathtub.

“You’re going to have to act. Aaron,” she mouthed from the corner. “Start the water.”

Chadwick hurriedly followed instructions as he tried his hardest to maintain a neutral expression without looking to Tasha for help.

“Keep your eyes forward,” she warned Maurice with a hand signal. “Two taps and then you shake.”

The plan was simple. Tasha would walk by the tub to knock the old radio close enough to the basin to make it look like it entered the water. A subtle tap to Maurice’s shoulder would alter him to begin the most important acting role of his life to make the death believable.

With the plan in motion, she expected everything to go as planned. What she didn’t count on was Keisha being unaware of what was happening around her. Genuine fear of her husband being electrocuted in front of her eyes terrified her into making an ill-fated decision.

As Tasha began the motion to knock the radio “into” the bathtub, Keisha lunged forward to stop the motion. Her effort to save her man became their demise as she mistakenly caused the device to fall into the murky water, sealing their painful death.

The smell of burning breath pulled the contents of Chadwick’s stomach forward as he doubled over to relieve himself of the nausea that had taken over.

“Wow, Tasha, I must say that I didn’t expect this from you. Chadwick maybe, but never you. I guess I had you pegged all wrong.” The voice from the speakers was louder and clearer than before. The disfigured and frightening man beyond the shadows emerged from an unknown area wielding a large knife. “What am I going to do with you, hmm?”

“Please, just let us out of here,” she pleaded, feeling the tears she’s been holding back pricking the back of her eyes.

“No can do, Princess. See, I was going to let you be the one to make it out of here. I’ve been watching you, and I like you. You’re not apart of this shit show industry and you’re smart. Almost too smart.”

Chadwick stood frozen in fear as the assailant, assumed to be John Castleberry, used his free hand to apply overwhelming pressure the area covering Tasha’s trachea. A pained gasp from the love his life nearly brought Chadwick to his knees.

“Not her! Please! Let me switch with her.”

“Oh don’t worry, Chadwick. Your time will come. First, you have to suffer.” A Cheshire grin spread across John’s face as he pressed the cold blade to her throat, drawing blood with every movement.

“Stop!”

“It’s over, baby,” Tasha whispered through her tears. “Run, Aaron! Don’t worry about me. It’s my turn to save you. I’ll see you soon. I-I love you.”

Chadwick watched the blade continue its journey across Tasha’s neck as he screamed a plea at the man metaphorically ripping his heart from his chest.

“No! Stop! Please, stop,” he chanted. “Stop!”

“Aaron! Aaron! Boy, would you shut up? I’m trying to sleep!”

Chadwick should up from the bed in a cold sweat, his eyes darting to each corner of the room to decipher his surroundings. Beside him, sporting a cold glare and the bonnet that he never thought he’d be excited to see, Tasha lay propped on her elbow to face him.

“Are we at home?”

“We’re both in your house, but I’m about to go back to mine if you don’t let me sleep. I have to work in the morning and you in here running from demons.”

Chadwick released a sigh of relief and a short laugh that confused Tasha.

“Baby, I had a dream that someone was about to kill you and make me watch. It felt so...so real!”

“I’d take a bullet to the head if it meant I could get some rest. Sweating all over on my side and shit. Are you finished with your Nightmare on Elm Street or should I go sleep in the other room.”

“I’m good,” he answered trying to convince himself more than Tasha. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

“Take as much time as you need. Maybe stay in the there for the next six hours. Sheesh.”

Chadwick let out another laugh at her antics. Relief began to replace fear as he entered his bathroom to compose himself. He was safe with the love of his life beside him after the most traumatic dream he’d ever had, and he couldn’t be happier.

Splashing a handful of cold water on his face, the sound of a car passing the house did little to get his attention.

“There is someone walking behind you…”

The tune playing from the vehicle made his body hot with anticipation as the memories he wanted to forget came back with a vengeance. His palms flew to cover his ears, hoping to drown out the sound and stop the images running through his head. His body crumbled to the ground in a heap as he backed himself into a corner.

“Fuck, no! Stop!”

“There is someone watching your footsteps. Turn around, look at me. Look at me. Look at me…”

                              ______________

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