#he half asses tracking cals too
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Am I weird for making hcs about what kind of [my issue] all the characters in [my hyperifxation] would have?
Like ex: What kind of ed every tf2 merc would have?
Like not even in a âIâm going to give them all my problem exactlyâ kind of way- I just like to think about their characters and assign them a problem
#yall im being ill on main again#anyways#Iâve put thought into it#Iâll probably write a fic about it#soldier would be a compulsive exerciser#scout would be a mid intake kind of restrictor#like his diet consists of energy drinks and snacks#he half asses tracking cals too#heâd probably round down ngl#like âeh itâs only ten cals might as well be zeroâ#medic would probably omad#like he forgets to eat throughout the day and then eats one medium sized meal#okay I could go through every single mercenary in the tags but then Iâll#get into the less fun ed stuff#and nobody is here for that#oopsie I got started#but like I do this all the time#how would each mha character sh (type of sh why they do it and where)#make each character autistic and write about how they all present it differently#or how they stim#or what substances theyâd abuse#and I just assign it to every character#Iâll fucking do it to Dungeon meshi donât you test me#tw self harm#tw ed descussion#tw ed but not sheeran#tw sh#tw ed trigger#tw substance abuse#tw autism
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"but some people canât stand it." tbh fans have always been weird about Lewis and his ships with his teammates. Nobody shipped Valewis when Valteri is probably Lewis' closest friend on the grid. It all goes back to Nico and the fall of Brocedes tbh, so much of Lewis' career is tied to him and that particular rivalry. Lewis is also super closed off (again thank you Nico), George and Mick are probably the two people he actually interacts with in some capacity. It's difficult to ship him with anyone tbh, I quite like Britcedes btw but I can see why people may not feel too comfortable.
People being weird is the tagline to fandom, you could present them with a perfect ship and someone would still hate it. In a way I appreciate the freedom it gives me to do whatever the fuck I want.
I donât ship valewis either bc again, Monoshipper, but if you want valewis, anon, I should recommend @milflewis - I love platonic and especially bromantic valewis with my entire soul, but if you want romantic, Niamh is the way to go. You can also see @princemick for mick and Lewis. Itâs not my ship, but Kyle would drown just trying to swim to that boat
I think with Lewis ships it comes down to a perfect storm of Lewis being genuinely quite reserved and protective of his interactive circles bc heâs got trust issues you can see from space, the fallout of brocedes, and people just not liking George and Val. Sewis is without a doubt popular for a reason, I love Seb as Lewisâ friend, but seb is also undeniably more popular than George or Val will probably ever be, and thatâs why sewis is much bigger.
And thatâs someone Lewis really likes, If you need proof of how some people prefer character over interaction, look at Ch*wis. If Lewis so much as stands near Charles half my dash gets filtered for the next few days. Val and George donât get that hype, Val only gets slightly more favourable treatment now heâs not Lewisâ teammate anymore, and Iâve literally seen folks get mad at George for breathing (on radio). Thatâs the nature of fandom, people like what they like and gravitate toward it.
For me, I mean Lewis has naked framed photos of vals ass and secret pics of Georgeâs tits, he takes ice baths with George and travels to tracks with Val, he posts about them both fairly often, but that tends to get swept under the âwell theyâre teammatesâ umbrella. Some people find that less interesting, Iâm personally frothing at the mouth and shredding paper because of it, but thatâs me.
The scars of brocedes run deep. I hate it with a passion, itâs one of the few ships I genuinely cannot stand. For some people Iâd assume that means shipping Lewis with a teammate again is out of the question, but to me I think that actually adds to the allure of them.
Val taught Lewis he could trust a teammate again, that he could be friends with them again, that it was safe to be vulnerable and it wouldnât be used against him. George compounds that by showing Lewis that even if heâs competing with his teammate, they can still love each other. They can still work together, they can still share a family, they can still grow together. George is louder than Val, different, heâs got a spark Lewis sees in himself and it also scares him because he remembers what he went through. But George has been with them since 2016, as long as cal, he hangs on Lewisâ every word even now and smiles like sunshine when Lewis glances at him, and Lewis has grown too, heâs not who he was in 2016, and heâs not Nico.
I love writing about Lewis and Val and George BECAUSE they are the tree that grew from rotten fruit, as a concept the three of them are about growth and change and recovery from trauma. Theyâre about understanding what George and Val go through as the teammates of the greatest of all time, but also them having to understand the unique fire Lewis was forged in and the pressures he is under. They are my addiction and I love teammate stories bc itâs the classic trope of together against it all, and of found family within Mercedes
#asks#anonymous#mark talks britcedes#mark talks ships#wank/rants#Niamh I hope you donât mind the tag in the midst of a britcedes ramble
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rambling headcanon thoughts that are ALMOST a fanfic, call it a fictoid and also canât decide who the pov character is:
Crispin is really good at psychological manipulation. Not because heâs like some mastermind abuser but just because he grew up in unforgivingly harsh circumstances in the shitty school system of the Psychonauts universeâs equivalent of 1940s England. Heâs tiny and his eyes arenât good and heâs always just been kind of sickly and weird so he learned these skills to survive.
He didnât MEAN to make Fred have a psychotic breakdown. He just⊠may have trash talked him a little aggressively for getting his ass kicked by someone who just came out of a prolonged catatonic episode. But he couldnât have known that Fred had a huge inferiority complex from his overbearing parents who forced him to go to French camp all summer without doing anything about his panic disorder, among other sins. In Crispinâs opinion, itâs mostly the hospitalâs fault for allowing a nurse to do one-on-one care with patients when he had a history of trauma.
Conversely, heâs also discovered that he knows exactly what to say to comfort Loboto when heâs triggered or having a meltdown. He knows to appeal to Caligostoâs ego as a scientist and his desire to be loved, which isnât difficult because heâs been kind of obsessed with Loboto ïżŒsince they were in the hospital together. He was supposedly violent but usually acted like a sedated puppy except for the rare occasion that he had to be restrained. He was tall, and if Crispin got very close to his face he could just barely tell that he had deep scars and two different colored eyes, like a white cat. It made him look rather dashingly villainous (for the record, about a fifth of the androphilic staff thought he was handsome, three fifths thought he looked like an unsettling failed taxidermy project with too many teeth, and the other fifth thought it was gross to view patients through a sexual lens).
He gathered from their interactions that Loboto claimed to have been the only child in an incredibly abusive family who dug out his brains with an ice pick, that he had been in the system since he was eight years old and had been institutionalized more times than he could keep track of, that his parents forced him to have so many surgeries to correct his scoliosis and TMJ (he wasnât sure what that meant and Caligostoâs explanation wasnât terribly coherent), he got kicked out of dental school for his revolutionary ideas and then he started putting weapons in peopleâs teeth for crime syndicates, he had removed his own appendix and one of his toes while living in a trailer, he knew how to build military vehicles out of scrap metal. It all sounded like the ramblings of a schizophrenic, which wasnât a deterrent. Crispin had become infatuated with less functional men; at least Cal didnât have a debilitating drug addiction or a secret wife, as far as he could tell.
Then he talked to Fred during one of his lucid periods and, because Fred was highly medicated and not technically bound by medical confidentiality anymore, he learned it was all true. Or at the very least the ideas Loboto was trying to express were true. Apparently he had been a sort of celebrity in northern Oregon, a human cryptid who traveled between vacant storefronts and had a garage somewhere in the woods full of surgical equipment and half-deconstructed junk vehicles. He was known for posing as a licensed dentist and also for digging through landfills in rain boots and a stained floral sundress.
The two of them became as close as patients in a mental hospital are allowed to be, especially after Crispin displayed his ability to mortally psychologically wound any aggressive inmates with a tactically aimed insult. People, generally other men, would sometimes threaten or harass Loboto when he was too sedated to object. Maybe it was because he was visibly effeminate or just because they perceived the destructive force of his outbursts as a threat to their masculinity.
So obviously, Caligosto chose his favorite fellow patient to be his chief of staff when he became the new Head Doctor. He presented Crispin with a fresh extra-small floor nurse uniform from one of the only supply closets that hadnât been burnt or flooded and put it on over his straitjacket, which he still needed to wear to discourage him from chewing his fingers (Loboto knew this was the best course of treatment because he was the Head Doctor and he had a lot of experience with compulsively ripping out pieces of his own flesh).
But! Crispin had other duties as the Chief Orderly besides watching the patients and guarding the elevator. They were implied. Loboto didnât actually feel comfortable making them official, or mentioning them. It was just understood between them that Crispin would help him if he asked. Which was ideal, because Caligosto didnât need help all the time, but he sometimes had bad days. He would usually have a dream he couldnât really remember clearly and then as he woke up and went on with his life he would start sweating and trembling and feel unbearably sick and scared. It had been happening to him for his entire life, and he usually hid inside all day and maybe drank or took nitrous oxide and mostly just rocked back and forth a lot.
Now, however, he had a good hospital staff. Crispin slept on a mattress on the floor in what Caligosto called his bedroom, so he was usually already there when these incidents would take place. Otherwise he would ring an extremely grating alarm that he had salvaged from the administratorâs office. The volume felt appropriate for the intensity of his feelings.
Crispin was highly skilled at his job. He called Loboto âDoctorâ and held his hand and let Cal lean against him even though it was awkward because he was such a large person, especially compared to Crispin. He reminded Loboto that he was safe and things were okay and he was the doctor now and was in control. It didnât completely slow down his heartbeat or make his anxiety go away, but it made him feel a lot better, usually enough to eventually fall asleep from emotional exertion.
Even after getting âarrestedâ and readjusting to normal life as disabled adults (well, if one of the disabled adults is an extremely part-time technician for a government agency), Crispin still uses his abilities to comfort Loboto and encourage him to take care of himself. Cal is arguably less functional than him, and living together has made his issues with memory and executive functioning very obvious. But Crispin honestly doesnât feel like the relationship is unbalanced; Cal needs a little extra help in daily life, but heâs incredibly protective of his Chief Orderly who has been promoted to Administrative Boyfriend and is always supportive. Thanks to Loboto, his finger tips look normal for the first time in decades. When he tells people about it he always says that the best doctor on the Pacific coast is in charge of his treatment and Loboto is always very flattered.
#psychonauts#crispigosto#caligosto loboto#crispin whytehead#fred bonaparte#fanfic#kind of#cw implied gore#tw abuse#cw panic attack#cw mental illness#cw psychiatric hospital#cw trauma#cw bullying#fuck it you know what Iâm posting this on ao3
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Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land - Bucky Barnes x Reader.
MASTERLIST
Part IÂ |Â Part IIÂ |Â Part III | Part IV
So, yes. There we go. I am sorry for the long wait. Life.
Part V. Rusted.
        Not knowing where you had gone, was killing him. He was breaking and he knew that he couldnât postpone thinking about who were hiding behind this. He knew and it was slowly eating him alive. His fault. Bucky never saw himself as the hero you did, he was well aware of the innocents he has killed, he was more than aware that there was a lot of bad blood; he had made some enemies; very powerful ones. You knew his past and you decided to push past that, create a new future, where missions werenât the plan. He had been naĂŻve, too foolish to gamble this away, to leave his past to pure luck. He knew that it was too good to last. Yet, every time you entered a room, none of those thoughts made sense, because you were waltzing towards him, with a soft smile.              He was wide awake, not being able to catch a moment of sleep; sleep was a privilege for unbothered minds; his was a disaster. His ears were ringing with your screams, tormenting him. He was slowly letting go sanity. Everyone was doing the best they could, but with no lead or clues, they had nothing to grasp to begin with. He knew it; he already knew what had happened to you. His enemies had finally caught up with him; his past was now after you. If his gut feeling was correct, he didnât even know how bad it was. He guessed; and his guesses were better and more accurate than most. After all, he had been through that himself.                 He was tracking down an old acquaintance of his; watching him stroll around with the power and the authority he had given him. It was not an easy thing to do⊠to witness the extent and the impact his actions had. When he had killed Cal Collins, he had given the perfect opportunity to Osman to take over. And he was not the easy guy Collins was; he went big.                 Pitch black, an hour before the first light of the dawn. Bucky was down by the docks, spying at Osman and his containers; containers full of guns, drugs and a couple versions of the super serum. Osman operated without trouble, having half of the city on his paycheck. A lot of people of high status were involved and no one wanted their name to be mentioned or associated with this kind of shipment.                  Bucky tried to reason with his own intrusive thoughts; for Osman to be seen here, he could not be the one behind the attack, could he? Then again, he was an ex-Hydra official, and he had both the means and the reason to go after you â to get to him. He wanted to gain his attention once more; to get even. Bucky, well, the Winter Soldier, had gone after Osmanâs wife and it seemed fitting. But something told Bucky he was not the one behind this. Yet, he was still lingering and eavesdropping. If he was not the one doing this, he would most likely know the one responsible. Bucky was assured this had been Hydraâs doing. He took his time. He needed a lead. Anything to hold on to.
        Your eyes couldnât adjust to the absolute darkness. You were somewhere cold, dark and very uncomfortable, judging by the rock that was hurting your thigh. You didnât know where you had been taken or for how long you had been there. You only knew that your legs were almost numb and your head had been bleeding at some point; you could feel the burning sensation clearly.                  This was no random attack; they knew their way in and out, they knew who they wanted to take with them. They knew you. And you were betting your ass that you knew them too. You didnât know the man on top, but you knew that it if you cut down one head, two more grew back in its place.                  âIlliterate bastardsâ you scoffed as you remembered the mythology behind Hydra. And they were no Hercules, that was certain. But you were not a Megara, either; you wouldnât wait for any man to save you. Not if you could do it by yourself. There were a couple of problems with that plan. You had no idea where on earth you had been moved.               Pain was the only reminder of your little adventure. You could sense the vibrations and you knew that somewhere along these walls, there must be an exit. You knew that a soldier or two would pick you up and drag you all the way to a lab, turning you into a rat. You had a vague idea of the things they wanted from you, aside obedience. You knew, deep down, you did. You just couldnât think of them because your mind was only capable of worrying about him and his hell.
        He was constantly on your mind. Whether or not he was still doing the best he could to not let his other side take over; or if he was taking care of himself enough to be okay without you; or if he had opened up about his nightmares to anyone else; or if he had already sought out help. But you knew that the longer you were here, all the more agonizing it would be for him. You needed to get out before Hydra got any funny ideas; and before they bend your will.                 You heard voices, some spoke English perfectly, while others did sound Russian. You wanted to scream and smack their heads together but thought it stupid. Instead, you pulled yourself together and thought of a plan. Anything, really. Now that your eyes were adjusting to the dark cell, you could make out the outlines and the door frame that wasnât sealed properly. It was just an inch, but it gave you more hope than the sun itself.              âĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČŃ Đ”Đ”â get her ready? Ready for what? Your stomach fell and twisted, in agony because all that hope was now gone. If they wanted you ready for something, that was not a trip to the Bahamas. You didnât know but you could guess. You closed your eyes the moment you heard the door.           âĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃĐ” Đ”ŃĐ” ĐČ ĐŸŃĐșĐ»ŃŃĐșĐ”â one of them informed the other. Not very observant, if you were being honest; you werenât passed out.                    âHey, Princessâ the other one said and a moment later a bucket full of ice water was thrown all over you, making you jump up in shock, but you managed to contain the scream. You wouldnât give them that kind of satisfaction.         They grabbed you and dragged you; you werenât fighting this. You wanted your strength and stamina for a possible way out. They werenât kidding around. Their hands were buried in your skin, causing your muscles immense pain. The hand behind your neck, threatening to crack it, was pushing your head down, and your lungs didnât have space for a breath.         You tried to notice the different corridors. They were all the same. It wasnât going to be easy to get out. They pushed you in a room, using you to open the titanium doors, at the same time, throwing you like a puppet. You ended up on the floor, with a bloody nose and a painful ringing. You didnât even make a sound. No, you wouldnât give in.            âWell, well. It is an honor to finally meet youâ a highly persuasive voice greeted you and made you look up. You didnât know the man in front of you but you knew he was bigger trouble than a simple brute. He extended his hand in a way that showed he wanted to help you up but if you had learned anything from the war, this had to be it. Never trust a man who projects peace while maintaining the war. You got up by yourself and he smirked.                âYou are not what I expected. I see now why the Soldier found his serenity, even after his hideous pastâ he remarked and it was a punch in your stomach, listening to this hyaena talking about Bucky like that. But it did confirm something; they were after you to kill him.             The room was a big glass container with different torture devices, cells, and chairs wired to electricity. A table had been emptied. You guessed it was meant for you and panic began to take over.           âI am Johann Fennhoff, but please, call me Faustusâ and with a smile, he placed a cloth on your nose. You passed out.
#bucky barnes imagines#marvel imagine#bucky barnes imagine#the winter solider imagine#the winter soldier#winter soldier imagine#james buchanan barnes fanfiction#james buchanan barnes imagine#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#steve rogers imagine#captain america imagine#steve rogers imagines#avengers imagine#the avengers#marvel fanfiction#avengers x reader#bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers x reader#captain america x reader#winter soldier x reader#reader insert
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Voices Singing (Letâs Be Jolly)
Written for Ficmas Day 2 Pairing: Michael Clifford/Harry Styles Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Key Tags: Strangers to Lovers, Christmas Lights, Piano Player Michael Word Count: 4,987 Read on AO3
Summary:
Harry loves Christmas and singing in his community choir. Michael hates Christmas but is playing the piano for their holiday concert, anyway.
âLiam,â Harry says sweetly, batting his eyelashes a bit for good measure, âdo you have a pencil I could borrow?â
Liam sighs, like Harryâs existence is a hardship, which is probably semi-true given how often he forgets his pencil and has to bother Liam for one. Â Heâs been part of this choir for a few years, and part of ones in high school long before then, yet he always forgets his pencil and half the time he forgets water, too. Â Itâs amazing that heâs made it this far in life. Â At least, thatâs what Liam said the last time he asked for a writing utensil.
âYou know this is our last rehearsal with music, right?â Liam asks, even as he produces another pencil from his pocket and hands it over. Â âYou shouldâve written everything down by now. Â Next rehearsal is memorized, then dress, then the performance.â
âI still think itâs dumb that weâre expected to be memorized this year,â Niall chimes in. Â âWeâve never had to be memorized before!â
âItâs the new director,â Harry says. Â âHe wants us to be more professional.â
âWell, he did save us from ruin this past season and lobbied for the parks and recs program to keep us in the budget, so I think the least we can do is memorize our music,â Liam says.
Harry hums. Â Liam has a point: Ashton really did save them this past season, swooping in like a white knight to prevent their funding from getting cut and to keep the arts alive in their town. Â Apparently heâs one of Calumâs friends (although Harry doubts friend is the most accurate word to use there) and loves a good cause, and although this is his first season directing heâs done it well so far. Â That doesnât mean that Harry is enthusiastic about the extra work of memorizing his music, even if he typically practices enough to naturally do so, anyway.
Liam doesn't have a chance to reiterate his point and try to drive home just how bad Niall and Harry's work ethic is, because at that moment Ashton himself strides into the rehearsal space, folder tucked under his arm and already undoing his scarf.
"Good evening, everyone!" he calls as conversations die down around the room. Â "Hope you're all well. Â We'll be getting started shortly, but first I'd like to introduce you to our pianist for this concert. Â Obviously since we're not acapella like last concert I can't sit there playing the accompaniment. Â No one wants that, but Michael has graciously agreed to be here for our next few rehearsals and play for us at the concert. Â Michael?"
Ashton turns to the piano, finds it empty, and frowns.
"Uh, has anyone seen Michael? Â Calum, do you know where he is?"
Every set of eyes in the room swivels towards the tenor. Â Calum shrugs.
"He's here somewhere. Â I lost track of him after we got out of the car."
Ashton sighs. Â It's the same sigh he uses when the choir isn't getting a harmony that he's already played ten times, the kind that typically makes Harry dig his heels in and work harder.
It's comforting that someone else can make Ashton this exasperated, though. Â If Michael is making Ashton sigh like that without even being in the room, Harry feels a bit better about the choir's general inability to sight read harmonies.
"Okay," Ashton says, running a hand through his hair. Â "I'm going to start warmups. Â Cal, can you call him and tell him to get his ass over here before I fire him? Â Let him know I'm serious."
"He won't buy it," Calum says. Â "He knows that he's the best accompanist you could get, especially this short notice."
"Just get him here, please?"
Ashton makes it almost the entire way through their usual warmups before someone new enters. Â Harry assumes it's Michael based on the sheepish way he approaches the piano and the way Ashton pointedly doesn't look at him. Â He has a beanie stuffed over blonde hair, dark pants, and a black sweatshirt, and he looks as young as Harry and Ashton, if not younger. Â That doesn't mean that he can't be a great pianist, but there's not much time to learn the music, and Harry doesn't know what his practice schedule is going to be like if he's showing up to rehearsal late despite apparently being somewhere in the building. Â Still, Harry likes the look of him. Â He gives Ashton a wide smile that makes him deflate when he actually graces him with a look, and Harry swoons a bit. Â It's a cute smile.
"Everyone, this is Michael Clifford, our accompanist," Ashton says, standing and letting Michael take the piano bench instead. Â "He's going to be on time from now on."
"There were snacks," Michael protests weakly.
"Those are for the company holiday party using the auditorium, not for us."
"Oh,â he says, wrinkling his nose. Â âI thought they were a bit Christmas-y."
Ashton sighs again, then turns back to the choir.
"Let's start with "O Holy Night," shall we? Â From the beginning, I'll stop you when I need to. Â Music is okay today, but we're memorized for the next rehearsal, so try to look away."
Ashton consults with Michael about tempo while everyone gets their music. Â The piano player flips through the sheets once, nods at Ashton, and then Ashton counts them off.
Harry forgets to sing.
Michael is an amazing player. Â He's obviously sight reading, completely focused on the sheet music except for the very occasional glance at Ashton's conducting, but he doesn't miss a note. Â Harry has been around many accompanists, and they all get the job done, but not all of them could sight read a piece of music perfectly. Â In fact, none of them could, not with an accompaniment like this. Â Harry has looked at the intricate piano line many times in the past wondering what it would sound like, and Michael hits every grace note and chord, even when he has to roll them because his hands aren't large enough to reach all the notes at once.
The one thing missing is his expression. Â Technically Harry is pretty sure the playing is perfect, but there's no feeling in it, and Michael's face is almost bored the entire time. Â Itâs common to focus more on technicalities than expression when sight reading, but Michael could easily put some feeling into his playing.
Ashton cuts everyone off halfway through the song to go over a harmony they still haven't quite locked in and remind everyone where theyâre allowed to breathe. Â Harry finally pulls his eyes away from the pianist and focuses on the music instead, but he finds his eyes constantly drifting back to Michael over the course of the rehearsal.
He even manages to hit everything correctly in their arrangement of "The Christmas Song," which has more accidentals than usual. Â Harry is amazed. Â Heâs astounded. Â Heâs feeling a little warm.
Thereâs nothing as attractive as a musical man. Â One who plays piano is even better, because he obviously knows how to use his hands. Â Michael already was an attractive man when he first walked in, but then he smiled, and then he started playing. Â Harry falls in love pretty quickly, but this might be a record.
Michael leaves the room as soon as rehearsal ends, standing from the piano and walking straight out the door the moment Ashton dismisses everyone, meaning that Harry doesnât have a chance to talk to him even though he gathers his belongings in record time. Â Itâs disheartening, but he brushes his disappointment away. Â He has a few rehearsals left, and heâll be sure to talk to him next time.
âHey,â Louis says, nudging him out of his thoughts. Â âReady to go?â
"Yeah," Harry says, already heading to the door. Â Louis takes a moment to get his feet to move and catch up.
"Really?" Â he asks. Â "You don't want to bother Liam and Niall more?"
"No, let's go home."
"Are you feeling alright?"
"Yeah, fine. Â I just have some stuff to do."
Louis frowns.
"Like what?"
"I think... I'm going to make cookies. Â Everyone likes cookies, right? Â Michael said he was late because there were snacks."
"Michael? Â The accompanist?" Â Louis stops in his tracks. Â "Harry, do you have a crush? Â Are you trying to woo the accompanist with baked goods? Â You know that hasn't gone over very well in the past."
Now it's Harry's turn to frown.
"That's not my fault. Â I make good cookies. Â I used to work in a bakery."
"Yeah, sweeping the back and occasionally manning the till."
Harry's frown deepens. Â Louis sighs and wraps an arm around his shoulders, continuing their walk out to the car.
"Come on, cheer up. Â I know your cookies are great, but I don't want you to get your hopes up only to have your heart broken, especially when you don't even know if this guy is worth it."
"It's just cookies," Harry says. Â "I'll save you some if you help me."
Louis considers, but Harry knows he's got him. Â Harry is the only reason that they have consistent food in the apartment, because Harry is the one who likes cooking. Â And baking. Â And doing the laundry. Â And most of the cleaning (except taking out the garbage).
Honestly, what is Louis going to do when Harry woos Michael and leaves to be his househusband?
"Okay," Louis says. Â "But be sure he's worthy of your cookies before you give them to him."
"Louis, he played piano perfectly while sight-reading. Â He even got all the accidentals in "The Christmas Song." Â What more could I ask for?"
"Ugh, don't remind me about the fucking accidentals," Louis groans. Â "You're lucky you're on baritone. Â The tenors have a terrible harmony in that one."
Louis launches into a rant, one that Harry has memorized because heâs heard it so many times before. Â Harry tunes him out and does a mental checklist of their ingredients to ensure he has everything he needs for Michael's cookies.
-/-
Michael won't stop talking to Calum.
Harry was happy to see him walk in a few minutes before the start of rehearsal, but he hasn't left Calum's side since, keeping up a consistent line of chatter that Harry has no hope of interrupting. Â It's nice to see him energetic and passionate rather than sheepish or bored, but at this rate Harry's never going to get to talk to him because Calum is taking all of his attention.
Harry is pretty sure that Calum is dating Ashton. Â He's had conversations with half the choir about it, and he's certain he caught a glimpse of them kissing before the last concert, although it was dark and he looked away quickly to give them some privacy. Â Calum and Ashton certainly act like they're dating and trying to hide it, but what if Harry is wrong? Â What if Harry doesn't stand a chance with Michael because Michael is already seeing someone? Â Is Harry going to spend the next few weeks being jealous of Calum, of all people?
Ashton enters the room with much less fanfare than last time, setting down his folder and wandering over to Michael and Calum to speak to them. Â Calum greets him with a sweet smile and Ashton puts a hand on his shoulder as he talks, letting his fingers brush Calum's cheek on the way down and lingering there long after Michael has rolled his eyes and gone to the piano.
Yeah, Harry is pretty sure that Calum and Ashton are dating, even if Michael carpools with Calum and enjoys talking his ear off. Â Harry still has a chance, and if Michael does have someone else then Harry canât be faulted for not knowing.
The rehearsal goes relatively smoothly, except Harry is even more distracted by Michael given that he doesn't appear to be actually looking at the music. Â He has it in front of him so Ashton can tell him measure numbers when they stop and restart, but he rarely looks at it, instead watching Ashton's tempos, closing his eyes and stretching out his neck while he plays, or letting his eyes wander around the room.
He catches eyes with Harry at one point and quirks an eyebrow. Â Harry quickly turns his attention back to Ashton and hopes he's not blushing too noticeably, but he still watches Michael more than the conductor.
He canât believe he memorized the music after only one rehearsal. Â This guy is amazing.
Michael doesn't run out of the room the moment that rehearsal ends this time, which means that Harry can take a moment to gather his things (including a tupperware container full of cookies) and his wits before following him out.
"Hey!" he calls, jogging a bit to catch up with him. Â Michael glances over his shoulder, then eyes Harry when he falls into step beside him.
"Hey," he says warily. Â "Harry, right?"
"Yeah," Harry beams. Â He has no clue when Michael heard his name given the size of the choir, but he's very pleased that their very first introduction isn't going to be Harry hitting on him. Â "How's it going?"
"Fine," Michael says, glancing at Harry again. Â "What about you?"
"Good, good," Harry says. Â "I love having an accompanist for the choir. Â Ashton is fine when we're learning the notes, but he's not exactly a piano player, no offense to him. Â It's nice to hear the actual piano line."
Michael snorts.
"Ashton's a shit piano player. Â He's alright at guitar, though."
"Well, to thank you for saving us from his playing at the concert, I made you some cookies! Â I hope you're not allergic to anything, but they're mostly sugar cookies with buttercream frosting, with a few gingerbread ones thrown in."
He holds out the tupperware. Â Michael blinks at it before turning a disbelieving grin at Harry.
"You made me cookies?" he asks, lifting up the corner of the lid to look at them and take in the Christmas trees, stockings, reindeer, and snowflakes. Â "Oh. Â They're Christmas cookies."
"Is that a problem?" Harry asks. Â "I thought it was appropriate, since you're accompanying our holiday concert, but you don't have to take them if you don't want to."
"No, it's fine!" Michael says, pulling the tupperware fully out of Harry's grip. Â "These are my cookies now. Â No take backs. Â I just don't like Christmas very much, that's all."
"Why?" Harry asks, frowning. Â Then he gasps. Â "Wait, are you Jewish? Â Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed--"
"No, no, I'm not Jewish. Â I'm not much of anything, really. Â I just used to work retail, and this was always the worst time of year," Michael says with a sigh. Â He looks up, like he was going to roll his eyes but decided it was too much effort. Â "Everyone is rushing around trying to find gifts and being rude about it, and everyone is more stressed than usual, and you're supposed to buy gifts for people that they'll just end up returning the next week anyway, and you hear the same four songs over and over and over, and most of the time they're not even good songs. Â Believe me, if I could put a hit out on Mariah Carey, I would."
"But... what about the joy?" Harry frowns. Â "The Christmas cheer?"
"The older I've gotten, the more I've realized that with Christmas, the bad outweighs the good. Â When you can believe in Santa it's fine, but even when I was a kid I thought Santa was an asshole for giving some kids coal instead of presents. Â Also, he only ever gave me socks. Â What kid wants to get socks from Santa?"
"Why are you accompanying a holiday concert if you hate Christmas?" Harry asks. Â Michael shrugs.
"Ashton asked me to. Â Besides, I like playing, and at least you guys aren't doing "All I Want for Christmas Is You.""
Harry hums. Â They did that one last year, and it didn't go very well. Â As a choir, they're much more suited to classical pieces than pop songs.
"Do you do other concerts?" Harry asks. Â "You're really good. Â Like, really good. Â I've been watching and you hardly need to look at the music, but you hit every note."
"You've been watching?" Michael asks, raising his eyebrows.
"You're nice to look at," Harry flirts, just to test the waters. Â Michael smiles and side-eyes him.
"To answer your question, I don't play other concerts, usually," Michael says. Â "Maybe I would if all of them had such wonderful baritones, but I only ever do it when one of my friends asks. Â Piano has always come easy, so I wasn't willing to put in the work necessary to do it professionally, you know? Â I don't want to have to hustle. Â It's just something I do for fun."
Harry hums. Â Sometimes he thinks about whether he should've tried to go into music, but he also thinks he wouldn't enjoy it as much if it was his job. Â He likes the choir, he likes singing karaoke with his friends, and he likes teaching himself guitar badly from YouTube videos. Â Having to do it all the time with the pressure of earning money might change that.
Besides, if Michael was famous, he probably wouldn't have landed in Harry's little corner of the world, playing piano for a community choir instead of at a famous opera house or equally grand venue.
"I get that," Harry says. Â "I'm glad Ashton asked you to play for us."
Michael hums and considers Harry again. Â "Yeah," he says eventually. Â "Me too."
They've reached the front doors now, a small barrier from the cold outside. Â Harry sticks his hands in his pockets and casts around for something to say, but comes up empty. Â He has to step aside to let a few other choir members through, and when they pass Michael turns to him again.
"I'd love to tell you how the cookies taste," he says. Â "I'm sure they'll be amazing, but if you give me your number you can get my enthusiastic first reaction."
Smooth. Â Harry can respect it. Â It's definitely not the worst excuse someone has tried on him to get his number, and it saves Harry the trouble of having to figure out how to ask Michael for his. Â He hands over his phone easily, balancing the cookies for Michael while he types in his number then sends himself a quick text, and once he's confirmed that he now knows how to contact Harry he smiles again.
"I've got to get the car warm for Calum, otherwise he'll throw a fit once he and Ashton are done canoodling," Michael says. Â "Expect a text from me soon, though."
"Have a nice night," Harry says. Â "I'm looking forward to it."
-/-
Michael keeps his promise and texts Harry later that night about the cookies, including a lot of exclamation marks and happy emojis. Â Louis reads it over his shoulder when he sees him smiling so widely at it and says that at least Michael has a good appreciation for Harry's gifts, but Harry is too busy replying to mind.
It turns out that texting Michael is extremely easy. Â Conversation flows constantly between them, first about food, then about favorite movies, music, other hobbies, and work. Â Michael is funny and uses emojis liberally, almost as much as Harry himself does, and Harry loves checking his phone to see a new message or question waiting for him. Â Harry finds himself waiting on the edge of his seat for whatever Michael is about to say next, whether it's the answer to a question, a new random thought, or the flirty texts that have become a bit more pronounced each time one of them sends one.
For once in Harry's life, seduction-via-cookies seems to be working. Â In fact, it's working better than he could've dared to hope, because the only thing that keeps Michael from being perfect is that he hates Harry's favorite holiday. Â Even that isn't a huge deal, because Harry is confident that he can at least get Michael feeling neutral about it if they spend enough time together. Â Sure, Michael has been burned by the retail experience, but there's a lot of magic still to be found in the Christmas season. Â Harry thinks heâs at least shown him a little bit of that magic with the cookies, and heâs determined to show him more.
Thatâs how he finds himself in Michaelâs car after their dress rehearsal, Calum left to catch a ride with Ashton, Louis heading home alone. Â Harry is on a quest to show Michael a little bit of the true Christmas spirit, and Michael has been kind enough to indulge him.
(Michael actually is the one who suggested that Harry take him out and try to convince him that Christmas doesnât suck. Â Harry is going to have to start initiating something in this relationship, because so far Michael has a leg up on him.)
âSo,â Michael asks, drumming his thumbs against the steering wheel. Â Theyâre still in the parking lot of the church that theyâll be performing in, letting everyone else leave first. Â Harry spent a long time inside the church looking at all the decorations. Â Itâs beautiful, even if itâs not fully decked out for Christmas yet.
âWhere to?â Michael asks. Â âShow me the meaning of Christmas, Harry!â
âWell, the true meaning of Christmas is in your heart,â Harry says. Â Michael shoots him an unimpressed look, so Harry puts an address into his phone and lets the map direct them, both of them making small talk in between the automated voice commanding them where to turn. Â When they finally arrive at the destination, Michael cautiously pulls into a parking spot and peers out the window.
âA light display?â Michael asks. Â âIâve seen Christmas lights before.â
âBut you havenât seen them with me,â Harry says. Â âItâll be different, trust me. Â Come on!â
He manages to coax Michael out of the car and pays their entrance fee. Â Itâs a bit late in the night, meaning that the crowd has thinned slightly, but Michael still sticks close to him. Â Harry gets the hint and takes his hand, making him smile.
There are millions of lights strung up in various shapes and formations along the path, creating tunnels for them to walk through or scenes to watch. Â They linger for a long time at each display set to music, and Harry watches the multi-colored flashes dance across Michaelâs face.
âTheyâre pretty, I guess,â Michael says eventually.
âI think theyâre beautiful,â Harry replies. Â âI like that they chase away the dark. Â I hate how dark it gets in winter, but the lights feel like our way of fighting back, you know? Â Even when things seem bad, we can still find ways to make them better and more bearable.â
âThatâs nice,â Michael hums. Â âI kind of like the dark.â
âEmo,â Harry teases, carrying a joke from their texting when Michael said he listens to My Chemical Romance. Â Michael sticks out his tongue, then returns to watching the lights. Â Harry can tell that he isnât convinced yet, though, so he takes Michael a bit further to a hot cocoa hut where they can step inside and get a break from the cold. Â Theyâre serving eggnog, cider, and other festive drinks as well, but hot cocoa is the best, and Harry orders two cups for them. Â They find a table off to the side where they can sit and warm themselves a bit, the atmosphere calm and peaceful. Â The hut itself is a rustic design, with lots of exposed wood and pine boughs decorating the tables, and Harry loves it.
âI try to come here every year for the cocoa,â Harry says. Â âItâs so good. Â I like a lot of festive drinks, actually.â
âYou know you can drink them year-round, right? Â You have that power,â Michael muses. Â Harry sighs, although he does it with a smile. Â He likes that Michael is still giving him a chance despite his stubbornness. Â Harry would hate to start a relationship with someone who refused to challenge him or to compromise.
âIt tastes better when itâs cold out. Â I appreciate it more now.â
Michael takes a sip of his cocoa and hums in satisfaction. Â Harry counts it as a win, especially when Michaelâs shoe presses against his under the table.
âTo me, Christmas is about making the most out of a bad situation,â Harry says. Â âItâs cold. Â Itâs dark all the time. Â Sidewalks are slippery and snow gets in your shoes. Â Winter doesnât have many redeeming qualities, but Christmas opposes all of that. Â It says âIâm going to take horrible conditions and make something joyful out of it instead. Â Iâm going to put up lights to fight the dark, show my friends and family I love them with gifts, and encourage everyone to sing and be jolly.â Â Even Christmas trees are about how life goes on despite hard times, and Santa gives kids something to look forward to and hope in when thereâs not much else. Â Thatâs why itâs my favorite holiday.â
Michael nods slowly, sipping his drink. Â Harry watches him.
âI like how much you like it,â Michael says. Â âAnd I can admit that thereâs maybe a few redeeming qualities.â
Harry breaks into a grin. Â Michael tries to hide his own grin in his cocoa, but Harry isnât blind. Â He can see it as clear as the lights outside.
They spend a bit more time in the hut, then continue on the path through more light displays until they get back to the front. Â Harry pulls Michael aside before the last display, glancing up until theyâre in position.
âHow do you feel about mistletoe?â he asks. Â Michaelâs eyes light up, which means that Harry is contractually obliged to draw this out. Â âItâs a Christmas thing, so I get if you donât want toââ
âShut up,â Michael laughs. Â âI want to. Â Iâm willing to kiss on the first date.â
âWell, lucky for you, Iâm a Christmas traditionalist and mistletoe happens to be part of this display,â Harry says, glancing up. Â Michael follows his gaze and spots the green plant hanging above them. Â When he looks back down, Harry leans in, hands landing on his waist. Â Itâs cold and their lips are chapped, but Michael tastes like hot cocoa and kisses him back in kind.
Michael takes him on a detour to McDonalds before dropping him off at home, extending the night because neither of them particularly want to say goodbye. Â He sings along to the radio as he drives, the station tuned to modern pop rather than Christmas songs. Â He has a good voice. Â It has a really interesting quality to it, one that Harry could see allowing him to sell out venues with an electric guitar and explosive stage presence.
âYou know, the only thing that could make your piano playing better is some passion,â Harry says. Â Michael glances at him, but doesnât pause his passionate rendition of the latest Taylor Swift song. Â âYouâre amazing, but everyone can tell when youâre bored. Â If you played with half the passion youâre singing with right now, youâd be incredible. Â Youâd steal the show.â
âMaybe itâs a good thing Iâm not, then,â Michael says at a break after the chorus. Â âItâs supposed to be about you guys. Â Iâm just there for support.â
Harry hums.
âBesides, Iâm not exactly thrilled with the song choices. Â Maybe if Ashton invites me back in the spring and you guys do some good pieces youâll get the full brunt of my talent.â
Harry hums again. Â Michael pulls into the drive-through and looks at him.
âWhat?â he asks.
âNothing,â Harry shrugs. Â âI just think you have the opportunity to put on an amazing show and make people really happy by listening to you. Â Even if you donât like Christmas, thereâs some merit in the music. Â The piano melodies are really pretty.â
âIf you say so,â Michael says. Â âMaybe Iâll put a little passion in there, just for you.â
âReally?â Harry asks, heart jumping.
âSure, why not,â Michael says, oblivious. Â âDo you want fries?â
-/-
The night of the concert brings a few nervous jitters and a lot of excited ones. Â Harry dresses in his best concert black with a green tie for an accent, and he meets the rest of the choir behind the sanctuary of the church with a wide smile and encouraging words for everyone. Â Michael joins them shortly, and to Harryâs delight he beelines right to him rather than chatting with Calum like he had the past two rehearsals.
âHey. Â You clean up nice,â he says, giving Harry a once-over with a hand on his arm.
âThanks, so do you.â
Michael put on a suit coat for the occasion. Â Harry has always been a sucker for men in formal clothing, even if Michaelâs style leans more towards oversized streetwear.
âAre you excited?â Michael asks. Â âReady to spread the Christmas spirit with your carols?â
He says it sarcastically, but Harry sees right through him. Â Heâs happy to be here.
âOf course,â he replies. Â âAre you?â
Michael shrugs.
âWill you do it for me?â
Michael rolls his eyes.
âYou canât use that card too often or itâs going to lose its power,â he says.
âBut does it have power now?â Harry asks cheekily.
âMaybe. Â Guess youâll have to wait until the concert to see.â
Michael kisses Harryâs cheek, then leaves to go over logistics with Ashton. Â Harry continues his rounds, chatting with friends and giving comforting words to anyone experiencing stage fright, and before he knows it itâs time to line up for the concert.
Harry takes his place on the risers and lets his eyes sweep over the crowd. Â He picks out a few friends who are there to support him, then meets Michaelâs eyes during Ashtonâs pre-concert speech. Â Michael waggles his eyebrows and winks. Â Harry tries not to laugh.
When Ashton counts them off, Michael takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and plays with a smile on his face.
#mirry#5sos fanfiction#one direction fanfiction#ficmas 2021#my writing#i'm sorry it's so late lol i'm going to try to post earlier in the day for the others#but in my defense it is still before midnight for me!#also i did not anticipate this many words i had to write 3k today which is a lot for one day for me#that's on me for planning poorly lol but in my defense this year in general is going to need more words than last year#anyway! dear anon who requested this! i hope you enjoy it!#anyone else want a rarepair? have some mirry
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The Secret Correspondence of the Dancing War - Part 3
A/N: Part 3 of the accurate epilogue of Broken Throne because once again, Regina and I are bitter that Victoria did not give us the closure we want. This letter while burned to almost a crisp was saved by me and @elane-in-the-shadows. Part I / Part IIÂ
iii. CalÂ
                     December 10th 330
Maven,
Itâs been a while since I wrote to you or visited you. I hope you donât mind. Things have been busier these past few years. I honestly donât remember the last time I got a full nightâs rest. Even now, Iâm writing to you at 3 in the morning because I canât sleep. Â Mareâs going to kill me too. She already has a hard time sleeping because of the baby. She doesnât waste time blaming me for that. Funny enough, I donât mind her teasing about it. The fact that it is even happening makes me feel like I could make electricity myself.
Right, I should probably catch you up on whatâs happened. To be honest, a lot of it is fuzzy for me. Since my promotion two years ago, Iâve spent more time on the front lines dealing with the Lakelanders than I have in my lifetime. Your ex-wfie is more of a pain in the ass than I ever thought possible. Like you, sheâs a brilliant strategist. I think⊠given time you two might have found kindred spirits within each other. And while this whole dance between the States and the Lakelands has been exhausting, the good news is that Iris hasnât had the chance to throw me in any more bays. Mare probably wouldnât think that joke is funny, but Iâm sure you will.
Anyway, four months ago Mare wrote to me telling me to ask for a leave of absence. That she needed me to come back to Montfort because it was urgent. It took more convincing than I would have liked to get that leave. Sometimes I miss being a prince, for the sole reason that if I needed something I didnât have to wait for people to sit around debating about it, it was just done. But thatâs beside the point. When I got back to Montfort, Mare had a, letâs just call it a surprise for me because I canât think of anything else to call it. A gift? It certainly didnât feel like it at first. I think all the blood drained from my face when she told me. We argued about it. Itâs honestly the first fight weâve had in a long time, but she won. She always does, as you know. I retired my uniform and she retired hers and we bought a little apartment near her parentsâ town house. She wants them close when the baby is born. I get that. I would want my family there too. I wish you could be here. I think youâd be surprised how strong she already is. The other day Mare made me feel how hard she was kicking and it was one of the strangest things Iâve ever experienced. How can something so small kick that hard? Sheâs going to be a force of nature; I know she will be. Mareâs her mother after all. I canât even begin to tell you how strange it is to write that. To think that in a few weeks sheâs going to be here.Â
Mare agreed to let me name her, as long as she gets to name the next one. She had her fingers crossed for a boy. She wants to name any son we have after her brother. I think Iâm going to name our daughter after my mother though. Coriane Barrow Calore sounds pretty doesnât it? But I may just be biased.Â
At first, I wanted to drop my name and just keep Mareâs, but she insisted we keep both. Our family line is as much a part of my daughterâs legacy as it is mine. Removing our name would be like trying to erase the past. Weâre trying to correct it though. Iâd say so far weâre doing a decent job. Notra is on track finally, and Evangeline has been hard at work as an ambassador with both the Lakelands and Prairie. Weâre both desperately trying to fix the mistakes our ancestors made.
And I guess Iâm writing to you tonight because of that. I canât sleep. I canât sleep because all I can think about it that family name. Our fatherâs name, and ours. Looking back on everything, I realize now what you went through, what you must have felt like. I canât sleep because Iâm terrified of repeating our fatherâs mistakes. He made so many. I didnât realize it until Mare told me she was pregnant and I started thinking about my own childhood. Iâm terrified that Iâll somehow show my daughter that she doesnât matter to me, that there is something or someone who comes before her. What if she sees what I do and what I am, and wants to follow in my footsteps? What if she does that because she feels like she has to? I donât want her to struggle like I did. I donât want her to think she is duty bound to a fate because of me or because of Mare. You would know what to say. You always knew exactly what to say.
And I guess I also was hoping you could⊠endow some of your speech ability on me to write another letter to the Silver Session. You handled them all so well as king, (better than I ever could have hoped too) and I wish I had half of your political sense, just because it would make my life so much easier. You always had such politic ways of telling people to go screw themselves. I need a way to say that right now that doesnât turn a bunch of cranky, old, irritating silvers into more of a political threat.
By my colors I miss you. It comes at me like a wave sometimes. Iâll just be walking or sitting and then itâs there and I feel like I canât breathe. You left a hole that I donât think Iâll ever be able to close. The other night, I realized your birthday was coming up. You would have been 28 this year. I realized that while Mare and I were walking back from dinner. When she asked me why I got so quiet, I told her the truth. She was quiet for a long time too, then she asked me if we would tell our children about you. I donât know if you want me to. Or which person I should talk about. A part of me didnât believe the last thing you told me. I know that the boy who used to stay up until ungodly hours playing chess with me was in there somewhere. I know that the brother who used to joke with me and play along with my terrible lies I told to get out of trouble was in there. I know the young man that was braver than I ever could be was in there somewhere. I wish I could have found him. I wish I could have saved you. Maven I have never regretted anything more than the fact that I turned a blind eye to your suffering or what your mother did to you. Maybe youâd be here with me today if I hadnât. Maybe you would get to hold your niece. Or maybe, maybe she wouldnât even be here. To be honest, I donât know. I learned a long time ago that playing the what if game just hurts more.
I hope you are at peace. I hope you are resting and that you somehow do get these letters. I hope you know that even at the end, you were my brother, and I loved you. I still do. Iâll come visit you soon, maybe after Coriane is born. Although Iâll probably be even busier then. I suppose Iâll just have to write in the meantime.
As always, your brother,Â
Cal
@elliemarchetti @farleydiana @scxrletguardsdawn @petergrantkavinsky @freaky-freiday @inopinion @mareshmallow @evangelineartemiasamos @evangeline-of-montfort @delilahlbard @king-maven-calore @whatsup-gorls @redqueenetwork
#red queen#the secret correspondence of the dancing war#glass sword#kings cage#war storm#broken throne#post broken throne#regina and I rewrite the epilogue#cause we have taken control of this fandom now#red queen fan fiction#red queen fanfiction#mare barrow#cal calore#diana farley#clara farley-barrow#ITS THE GIRL FIRST#lil coriane#I have many many headcanons about her and her brother#kilorn warren#marecal#cuties I love them all
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donât wanna fall in love (c.h.)
summary: you donât want to give him your heart but he already has it
authorâs note: havenât read the entire thing yet through and edited, so there may be some mistakes. just wanted to get this out there because iâm tired of staring at it :) also, ironically, i listened to the song wicked game by chris isaak on repeat while writing this but couldnât name it that bc i named my last oneshot after wicked game by the weeknd oops
word count: 4038
You remember the night you met Cal.
He was all smiles and chubby cheeks and drunken happy dancing as you all celebrated the birthday of a friend.
You were used to meeting famous people - living in Los Angeles had made the glamour and shininess of celebrities wear off, and while you were starstruck your first couple years there, you were used to it now. Having friends in the music business gave you the in to meet so many people, and you often found they were just like everybody else, only they had a lot more money and the freedom to do whatever the fuck they wanted.
So having a half-drunken hookup with Calum wasnât anything significant at the time. It was just like hooking up with anyone else.
Except that he actually called you like he said he would afterwards.
And then he started inviting you to more parties and kickbacks and hangouts.
And then you actually started getting kind of⊠attached.
It was foolish of you. While celebrities were like everyone else to you, they were different in one way: they were undateable. Youâd sworn off ever getting into a relationship with a celebrity, especially any musicians, because you knew the paparazzi and the traveling and the pressure and the fans would be too much. It just wasnât the lifestyle you wanted to commit yourself to forever.
Thatâs why you canât stop feeling a twist in your stomach as Calum gets closer and closer to you, arms nearly touching as youâre all bunched up in the corner talking at another one of Ashtonâs house parties. Luke says something dumb and everyone is laughing, but your head is somewhere else, fixating on the heat of Calumâs skin barely brushing yours and hoping that no one here can read minds or else youâre screwed.
Calum presses his elbow into your side, looking at you with his brows furrowed. âYou good?â he mouths over the music, concern on his face. Youâre normally pretty talkative, but you havenât said a thing during this conversation.
You nod, taking a sip out of the beer in your hand and trying your hardest to focus on the discussion at hand as Luke and Sierra argue over who got the most drunk at Ashtonâs last party.
âIâll be right back,â you say before you sneak away to the kitchen, finishing off your beer and throwing it in the trash and opening the fridge to get a new one. You take a deep breath and try to collect yourself.
You know Calum is off limits to you, that it will only end in heartbreak for the both of you, and that you canât let that happen. But itâs so hard to focus when heâs around you, and itâs almost like youâre starting to forget what would be so bad about getting your heart broken by him. Youâd have the pleasure of having him for at least a little while.
A deep breath and another sip of beer has you feeling composed enough to go back and rejoin the circle of your friends, but theyâve dispersed now and youâre left trying to track down someone you know in the packed house.
A pair of arms wraps around you from behind, lifting you up in the air and swinging you around. Your squeals stop as soon as they put you down, and you already know that when you turn around youâre going to find a head of bleached blonde hair and full lips turned up in laughter.
âCal!â you swat him, rolling your eyes. âYou couldâve made me spill my beer,â you pout.
âAh, but I didnât,â he points out with a smirk on his face. âIâm talented at what I do.â
You smile unamused, shaking your head at him.
âYou alright though? You looked a little out of it earlier,â he mentions.
âYeah, just a bit tired. Long day at work,â you shrug, âbut I didnât wanna miss the party.â
He studies you, seeing the tired lines under your eyes and wishing that he could make them disappear. He knows how hard you work and how important your job is and thinks that itâs so badass that you do what you do. He thinks itâs badass that even though you have such a hard job, you can still outdrink the rest of them and light up the room when you walk in.
âWouldnât be a party without you,â he nods. âThatâs why I noticed ya when we first met. You were the life of the party.â
You can see the truth in his eyes as he speaks and it makes you want to melt into him. He makes it so hard to resist him.
âOh, shut up,â you groan, bumping your shoulder against his playfully.
After a while, people are starting to leave, slowly trickling out until itâs only those who are close friends left in the living room, sitting on the couches and so deep in conversation that they donât even notice the room emptying out.
âIâm not ready to go home,â Calum sighs, looking around. âI get a little lonely after drinking so much wine. Not totally sure I should be going home and sitting in the dark,â he admits, eyes flickering to yours to try and gauge your reaction.
You kick the ground with the toe of your shoes, trying to decide if you should offer him to join you tonight, not sure if it would be a good idea. But when you look up and see those chocolate eyes, genuine hesitation and loneliness in them, you donât care if itâs a bad idea anymore. You want to protect him from all things sad.
âYou could come to mine for a bit?â you suggest, biting your lip. âWe can watch a movie or something maybe,â Â you shrug. His eyes light up with warmth at the offer. He nods.
âAlright.â
--------------------
You pop open a bottle of red wine as you and Calum settle on the couch, pouring each of you a glass to sip on as he searches for something to put on the tv. His arms flex just slightly each time he clicks on the remote and you canât peel your eyes off of him. You look up and realize heâs turned towards you, asking your opinion on a show, and you know heâs caught you staring by the way the end of his sentence just kind of fades out. His eyes are latched onto you now.
The air feels like itâs thickening around you and you canât bring yourself to tear your eyes away from him. It was much easier when the two of you werenât alone in the silence of your empty apartment.
âYouâre something else tonight,â Calum bites his bottom lip and shakes his head. âGod, you know exactly what you do to me.â
âWhat do I do to you?â you ask.
âMake it feel like all the air is sucked out of the room,â he admits. âLike I canât breathe.â
You adjust yourself in your seat, looking down at the floor. You know where this is going to go, and youâre not sure you can handle it if it does.
âYeah?â
âYeah,â he affirms. âEver since I met you. God, you donât even realize how you are,â he laughs. âYou light up the room when you walk in. Canât ever keep my eyes off you.â
Heâs spent weeks thinking about your drunken hookup, wishing he had been softer and sweeter and savored your lips on his body. Wishing heâd gotten you out of the dress youâd been wearing and been able to see you and feel you all the way. There were so many things heâd have done differently now.
âYou donât care that Iâm famous or that I have money or any of that shit. You still call my ass out and put me in my place and drive me crazy,â he chuckles. âIâve been trying to make moves for weeks now and you keep pulling away from me and acting like weâre just friends, but I... I canât be just friends with you.â
You bite your lip, not sure how to answer him. You know that what you want, more than anything in this moment, is him.
But itâs not that simple.
Your last heartbreak was so hard to get over. It took months and months of tears and distractions and drunken nights out at bars and fake smiles to get you to a point where you could even live your life normally again. And you already liked Calum more than it was healthy, way more than youâd ever liked any boy this early on.
You knew if you gave in, if you let him in, that he would have the total power to absolutely wreck you. Heâd be able to crumple your heart in his fist and throw it away. It was terrifying.
And you knew how much heâd be on the road, especially having just released an album. As soon as heâd get back home, heâd have to be busy in the studio. Every time the two of you would go out, there would be pictures and camera flashes and crazy fans. Youâd have to put your social media on private and remember how to calculate time zone differences and become best friends with facetime and heartache.
The soft, hesitant touch of Calumâs hands against your face bring you back to the present. The calluses on his palm are rough against your cheek and you fight off a shiver as your eyes go to his. Thereâs a softness in them, and youâve never seen Calum look so⊠afraid.
âI really like you,â he murmurs. âI know itâs scary.â
You nod in agreement. It is scary.
He hasnât dated anyone in a long time. It wasnât because he hadnât wanted to or he didnât have the opportunity - there were plenty of decent girls that heâd crushed on over the years. But he didnât want to put them through the pain of dating him. He knew that there were a lot of unfair things that came with a relationship with him. He felt guilty and ashamed asking someone to deal with all the baggage of loving someone always on the road.
You nod.
âI know itâs not fair of me to ask you for anything. I know Iâll be gone a lot and itâs not ideal. But I really like you.â
You sigh, closing your eyes as his fingers trace patterns on the skin behind your ears comfortingly. Heâs so soft and safe and cozy, even when his shirt smells like beer and his heart is racing.
âI donât wanna fall in love,â you whisper. Your eyes are still closed at your confession, and you feel so small and vulnerable. âI know youâll be able to break my heart and I know I wonât recover if you do.â
He shifts and pulls you closer to him until your face is in his neck and your knees are curled up in his lap. No words are exchanged as the two of you sit in the quietness of your living room, breathing in each otherâs air.
âI wonât break your heart,â he murmurs against the top of your head. His hand is moving up and down your back slowly, heating your entire body with every movement. âWouldnât be able to forgive myself if I did.â
âNo one ever means to break someoneâs heart,â you say.
âI know,â he kisses the top of your head.
And then he kisses the top of your ear, and your cheek, and his hand lightly grips your chin and tilts you up to face him before he kisses you right on the lips.
Heïżœïżœïżœs soft and sweet and the opposite of everything he was the last time he kissed you. Thereâs no rush now, and youâre both filled with red wine instead of vodka, soft and sleepy as your lips meet over and over again.
He pulls you into his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist as he lets his fingers trail up and tangle themselves in your hair. You let yourself relax into him, his tongue parting the seam of your lips and you open your mouth to him, letting him explore you. Instead of rough tongues battling for dominance like last time, itâs a timid exploration. He wants to memorize what every part of you feels like.
One of his hands lowers until it slides down into the back pocket of your jeans, cupping the curve of your backside and holding on tightly. You arch your back against him, and he moves his mouth from your lips to your neck, pulling you close until your chest is pressed flush against him and his teeth nip at your throat.
Ever so slowly, he plants kisses all the way down your throat, soft and light against your skin, until he reaches your collarbone, leaving little marks against you as he goes.
âPlease,â he whispers against your skin, and you can feel every movement of his lips brush against your chest. âTell me you want me.â
âCal -â you start.
âNo,â he whispers, cutting you off. âDonât think about anything else. Think about right now. Do you want me?â
You grasp at the short hair on his head, pulling on it to raise his head to look at you. You nod, and thatâs the only answer he needs. He reaches behind you and grabs the bottom of your top, pulling it over your head swiftly before he reattaches his mouth to your chest, suckling the skin exposed by the top of your bra as you hold him close. Warm fingers dig into the skin of your back, feeling around for the clasp of your bra and unhooking it. Slowly, gingerly, he slides the straps down your arms and drags the fabric off of you.
Thereâs a breeze across your chest and you feel even more exposed and vulnerable, but it feels right to open yourself up to him like this. He lips close around a nipple, tongue swirling it over and you throw your head back, mouth open as you hold back soft whimpers.
His hands are moving all over you, desperate to feel every inch of you before you change your mind. You reach down and yank his shirt off to you and press your bodies together to feel the warmth of the skin to skin contact, lips meeting once again as he reaches down to unbutton your jeans. Legs still wrapped around his waist, he stands and rushes to your bedroom, barely able to get the door open in his frenzy.
Youâre laid down on the bed and heâs hovering over you, unzipping you and pulling the jeans carefully down, pressing soft kisses on the skin of your legs as it becomes exposed. Once the fabric is finally off, he makes his way back up, stopping to press his lips softly over the center of your underwear, just barely enough pressure for you to feel it, but itâs enough to send goosebumps across your body.
Lips meet again in a tangled frenzy, soft and slippery and yearning for each other, and you donât even take the time to breathe between kisses anymore. Itâs getting frantic and desperate and youâre not sure how much longer you can keep your hands off of him. Your nails scratch down his back as his mouth engulfs you and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you as close as he can possibly get you.
âYou want me?â he asks again, breathless and lust-filled. You nod again, but thatâs not enough for him this time. âSay it,â he commands. âSay you want me.â
âI want you,â you breathe.
âHow badly?â he continues.
Truthfully, you want him so badly it feels like you could burst. So you grab the back of his neck and try to pull him back to you, hips lifting upwards desperate for contact. He pulls away, unsatisfied.
âHow badly?â he repeats, pushing your hips down against the mattress.
âSo bad, Cal,â you sigh. âPlease - just câmere,â you practically beg, still trying to pull his face back to yours.
Content with that answer, he kisses you again, but his hand is snaking down and teasing you over your underwear with light, delicate touches. You moan out, and his pants get a little tighter just from hearing you.
His fingers dance over the skin of your inner thighs, leaving ghosts of traces where you want him most until youâre almost writhing beneath him.
âPlease,â you whimper again, and it spurs him on enough to finally add some pressure, pushing down and rubbing on the little bundle of nerves right below the only fabric youâre wearing.
He yanks your underwear off impatiently now and lets his fingers explore the most secret part of you, feeling the wetness on your outer lips before spreading them and collecting more of the juice on his fingers. Youâre moaning and heâs moaning and youâre both lost in the exploration of your body.
He reaches a hand up slowly and sucks on his fingers, tasting you for the first time. You watch as his lips pucker around his fingers and he takes them out, holding them up to your lips right after for you to do the same thing. Itâs strangely arousing, tasting yourself and his mouth at the same time, and it feels so intimate.
When he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, he presses his forehead against yours and kisses the tip of your nose so lightly. âSo pretty,â he murmurs, and the moment is so soft and tender and it feels like time has frozen and then suddenly his fingers are back against you and moving in fast circles until youâre left unable to breathe.
âOh my god,â you gasp when he slowly plunges his fingers into you, moving around and stretching you out. Heâs slow and steady, curling his fingers and testing different methods until you grab onto his arm, nails digging into the skin, and moan loudly, mouth thrown open and back arched, and he knows heâs found the right spot.
His arms are flexing deliciously, muscles and veins popping out, as he continually hits that spot inside you with his fingers, watching eagerly as you become more and more unhinged and desperate beneath him.
Youâre still holding back, and he can tell. âCâmon,â he mumbles against you. âItâs okay, Iâm right here. Let go,â he encourages you, and itâs what you need, because youâre becoming undone and gasping and groaning and writhing and heâs never seen anything more beautiful in his life than this.
âGood girl,â he kisses your forehead and you slump against the mattress, skin growing sticky with sweat.
âCal,â you whisper, reaching for him until he brings his lips back to yours. You wrap your arms around him and feel his skin beneath the palms of your hands, craving his touch. His pants are still on, but youâre determined to change that as you reach to undo them, attempting to pull them off his hips, but he stands up and gets them off himself. Much faster that way.
Heâs rock hard from the show youâve put on and desperate to get inside you. He pushes away your hands and positions himself right above you, lining himself up.
âI wanna do it right this time,â he says seriously, looking you in the eyes and swallowing. âWanna go slow. âS that okay?â
You close your eyes, so ridiculously turned on by the fact that he wants to go slowly and carefully with you, heart fluttering at the effect this boy has on you. You nod and moan as you feel him against you, coating himself in your juices before slowly pushing in. You feel every inch of him as he lets his hips move forward, both of your mouths hanging open as you take it in.
âFeel so fucking good,â he groans lowly, stopping once his entire length is inside you and breathing. Youâve never felt this full before. He pauses there for a moment to allow you to adjust to all the stretching before he starts to move, pulling his hips back before rolling them forward again.
He reaches for your hands and pins them above your head, fingers intertwined as he continues his movements, rocking in and out of you at a steady rhythm.
This is the opposite of the last time he had been inside you. Before it was frantic and drunk and sloppy, but this time it was calm, careful.
You feel so safe with him, engulfed in his body as he shows you how much he wants you in the best way he knows how. Your foreheads press together and your arms wrap around his back, pulling his chest up against yours as you both lose yourselves in each other, panting and crying out as you reach your highs.
He rolls off of you, pulling you to the side to curl up next to him, not wanting to break the contact between you even though youâre both covered in sweat. When you look at him, you agree that it does feel like all of the air is sucked out of the room, just like he said.
You know itâs too late to keep your heart out of it now. Itâs already too late. You know that youâll break your own heart if you try to stop whatâs already started now, so you have no choice to give in.
âDonât break me,â you whisper against him.
âNever,â he smiles softly, kissing the top of your head and closing his eyes, happy with you in his arms.
------------------------------
You smile at your phone as Calumâs face pops on the screen, your nightly FaceTime waiting.
Itâs been hard with him on tour, especially with your relationship being so new, but itâs been okay so far. You miss him at night, having gotten used to him staying over each night for the few weeks before he left, and he misses waking up next to you in the morning instead of in a new hotel bed, cold and alone.
The FaceTimes were holding both of you over for now until he flew you out for one of the shows in the next few weeks.
âHey,â Calumâs bright smile filled your screen, camera way too close to his face. âThereâs my girl,â he smiles softly, proud to be able to call you that.
âOf course,â you respond, pushing the hair out of your face as you look into the camera and examine yourself. Your eyes look happier. You can tell. âWhat are you up to?â
He raises the camera and shows the room heâs sitting in, plopped on a couch by himself as the boys are messing around in the background. âJust got to the venue for tonight, weâre just setting some things up,â he says. You can see Luke and Michael play fighting behind Calum and laugh.
âSeems like you guys are having fun,â you chuckle as Michael falls to the ground overdramatically.
Calum nods as he looks over at his friend, but gets up off the couch and moves out of the room, walking to what looks like an empty concrete hallway. âYeah, itâs fun,â he says, âbut I miss ya. Wish you were here to make it more fun.â
âJust a couple more weeks,â you sigh.
âThanks for putting up with me traveling and the phone calls at weird hours and the sporadic texts,â he mumbles, still feeling guilty.
âHey,â you coo. âDonât apologize. Itâs worth it.â
You know in your heart that it is worth it, that heâs worth it and your relationship is worth it. Youâve fully accepted that he has your heart and all the power to break it, but you trust that he wonât.
And Calum knows as he looks at the sparkle in your eye and feels his heart pang in his chest that he wonât ever break your heart.
He knows that if he breaks your heart, his would break as well. So for now, youâd just have to trust each other and finally let yourselves fall in love.
#calum hood#calum fic#calum oneshot#calum fanfic#5sos#5sos fic#5sos fanfic#writings#writing#oneshot#smut#luke hemmings#michael clifford#ashton irwin#luke#ashton#michael#calum smut#calum imagine#calum blurb#blurb#imagine#5sos blurb#5sos imagine
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Monte Carlo : Racecar driver!Cal
Summary: They've been going to the same bar for a while, but have never talked. Then, across the globe, they meet at a club. He's there for a formula one race, she's there as an Instagram promoter for The Grand Prix. Angst and slow-burn ensues.
Word Count: 14k
Warnings: some smut
Tropes: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Angst, ft. Harry Styles
note: I started writing this when i first got into f1 so it's not 100% correct on how f1 operates but that's ok. Also Iâm not from New York but i tried my best lol
Nascar stuff to watch if you want a full experience: Hot Lap, Champagne popping.Â
****************
Sheâd met him in a bar.
It wasn't a southside bar. The carpets werenât stained by booze, ashes from used cigarettes and various human fluids, whether that be blood or sweat or whatever else landed on the floor in a dodgy hole in the wall.
Yet, it wasnât a North Side bar either. They didnât have the most expensive bottles of whiskey, no âhints of aged oakâ or bottles boasting of being over a hundred years old.
No, it was a middle ground. People loitered outside, men in leather smoking with the bouncers. The women there wore strappy heels and werenât afraid to kick them off to play a game of pool. It was perfect, and there was nowhere else Celeste would have rather been.
The charm of the bar wasnât even really the bar itself, but a certain regular.
His arrival was always signaled by the scent that would rush into the bar when a bouncer opened the door for him. The stuff he smoked always seemed to smell different, the type of sweetness that was edged, the type of sweetness that told you not to get too close.
No one could help but look at him when he entered. He was beautiful, the type of guy who could afford to relax in a North Side bar where the extra cost for drinks bought you more discreet eyes.
He never seemed to mind the eyes though, and Celeste wasnât surprised, after all, she supposed a racecar driver of his stature would be used to it by now.
Sheâd thought he was cute before the bartender had even mentioned that the gorgeous brunette was a famous race car driver. Celeste wasnât the type to watch cars, whether they be NASCAR or formula one. Hell, she didnât even know the difference between the two - didnât particularly care.
Celeste could understand the man - she wasnât sure of his name - she wasnât too picky about being seen either. Both of them were young and alive, chasing dreams and becoming successful at an early age.
The driver must have been twenty-three or four, already a known winner. If Celeste could remember correctly, she thought sheâd heard he was one of the drivers for Ferrari, which sounded prestigious.
Celeste was twenty-two and at the cusp of finding stardom in the world of modeling. Sheâd been discovered by a recruiter at aged sixteen and bounced around smaller brands before landing a gig with Victoriaâs Secret. Although sheâd yet to walk their runway, one of the designers had showed her picture to a friend and just like that, Celeste had become the muse for one of the biggest fashion brands in North America.
She supposed she was lucky, blessed really, to have been in the mall the day the recruiter discovered her.
And likewise, she supposed the driver was fortunate to have been introduced to driving at a young age.
So there the two of them were, two young stars shortening the vicinity between themselves every Friday night or so. Close but not touching, never meeting.
Later in her life, Celeste would wonder if it was odd for the other patrons who frequented the bar. If it was odd for them to be minding their own business and have not one, but two, semi-famous people just decide âthis is my chosen bar.â But in those moments when Celeste accepted a challenge in pool, playing against other drunk university girls, Celeste was just one of the people whoâd found a little slice of home in a midtown bar.
***
Calum swirled the whiskey in his glass, taking a deep breath and turning so his back was leaning against the bar top. His eyes found her immediately. She was the type of girl that stood out. Even if he hadnât been told by his favourite bartender that the girl was a model, he could have guessed.
It was hard to tear his gaze from her as she bent over the pool table to line up a shot. Her little jean shorts hugged her ass perfectly, and the way her thighs were pressed against the table made Calum lick his lips. She wasn't a typical model, or at least didnât have the thinner body type. She was what his friends would call slim thicc, and Calum ate it up every time she entered the bar.
The girls she was playing with were obviously university students from the school down the road. Calum had seen them once or twice, they liked to get drunk and play pool. They were also obviously fans of the model, and to the models credit, she was very kind to them any time they approached her.
âYou should go talk to her.â the bartender suggested, âtwo pretty people like you, it makes sense.â
Calum smirked against the rim of his glass, humming absentmindedly, âdoes it?â
âYou should do it soon, you know everyoneâs been taking bets on when you end up talking to her, who approaches who.â
âReally?â Calum turned to look at the bartender.
âNo, but itâs a good idea, maybe I should start that up.â he paused, âcome on man, youâre a regular, sheâs a regular. Youâve both been coming in for what? Six months now? Most Fridays? Except for when youâre off in Italy or Mexico or wherever, winning trophies and sheâs doing modeling gigs. The two of you would make sense together.â
Calum shot the last mouthful of whiskey, setting the glass down, âno we wouldnât.â Â he stated, tossing a bill onto the counter. He didnât look up at the bartender, instead, he grabbed his leather jacket that had been thrown over a bar chair and shrugged it on. It was warm and worn, and Calum produced a joint from inside one of the pockets, tucking it behind his ear and amongst his dark curls. His trusty lighter was in his hand by the time he was pushing the door open to escape the bar.
The cold air wrapped around him and Calumâs nimble fingers moved the joint from behind his ear to his lips, the lighter flicking on. He took a long drag and his eyes closed, the warm feeling wrapping around him pleasantly.
He knew he was being a pussy.
Knew that sixth months was six months too many for him to be in the same vicinity of a girl like that and not make a move. Calum liked to take his time with women, which is why he enjoyed going to the bar alone.
His friends didnât get it. They were all about driving fast, living fast and fucking fast.
Calum would be lying if he said he didnât enjoy speed, he was a fucking racecar driver for Christâs sake. One of the fastest in the world, if his last race was anything to go by.
But when it came to women? Well with women, Calum liked to go slow.
Besides, he was only going away for a week, maybe a little more. Sheâd be there when he got back.
***
The pop of the champagne bottle announced the spray of liquor that began to stream over Calum and his friends. Ashton was pointing his bottle towards the crowd and fans screamed up at them, allowing the expensive liquid to drench them as the drivers celebrated.
Calumâs cheeks hurt from smiling, and two of his friends held his head back as Ashton poured booze into his mouth. He was getting used to this treatment, they were only four events into the year but this was Calumâs third win. He was going to drink a little, but he was saving his energy for the next race, it mattered more to him anyways.
The Monaco Grand Prix held a special place in Calumâs heart and he could hardly wait for the week and a half for it to start.
Champagne dripped down the front of his red jumpsuit and Calum shoved his friends away, heart pumping fast. It only ever beat this way when he won first place, something that was happening with more and more frequency.
The air was still tinged with red from the gusts of coloured smoke that had been released as heâd crossed the finish line.
For a moment something else flashed red across his vision, a shirt the model had been wearing the week before. She must have not had any idea when sheâd chosen that colour that it had a deeper meaning for Calum. It was the colour of Ferrari, his colour, a colour that always sparked his heart with fire, the colour that promised a race, promised the elevation into paradise that came with a win.
One of his friends grabbing his jumpsuit drew Calumâs attention, and the image of the girl was gone.
***
Celeste lounged in her chair, celebrating a successful shoot with a slice of pizza. As she bit into the cheesy goodness, her makeup artist sat next to her, âyou have to see this.â she said, moving her phone where Celeste could see, âitâs from the race practice today.â
âAnd itâs Formula one right?â Celeste clarified. She felt bad, knowing that she should logically know more about the cars. After all, she was in Monte Carlo for the Monaco Grand Prix. The brand who hired her to be their correspondent for the paid promotion trip had known Celeste had no background with motorsports, so they had a journalist creating her captions for all of her paid posts. But Celeste still felt bad.
âYeah this is formula one, you can tell because the cars are thinner remember? just watch this.â the girl said with excitement. Celeste focused on the screen, watching as a red car sped down a track, âoh my god, how fast is he going?â
âFast.â the girl breathed.
There were two cars, a red and a blue. The red tried to skim past the blue and sent them both spiraling out, the blue coming to stand still as the driver got their bearing, however, the red car hadnât even stopped spinning before it was off again, speed gaining to catch the car that had taken the lead from him during those brief seconds of collision.
The camera angle switched to the camera attached to the red car and even at massively high speeds, the driver was fixing their mirror that had been damaged in the collision, and driving with only one hand.
One more harsh turn had red overtake the other red that had been in the lead.
The clip cut off.
âDid he win?â Celeste asked.
âHe did, but this was just a practice, we still have qualifiers and the actual race.â her artist said, âfuck, Hood is insane, Iâve never seen a driver recover from a bump so quick.â
âIâm shocked the bump didnât have them both like, flipping or something.â Celeste said, âevery time I think about race cars I think about how deadly the crashes look.â
âJust be glad youâre not dating a driver.â her artist said.
Celeste laughed, âthank god.â
***
Celeste had been busy most of the day, but sheâd heard the notorious Hood had won yet again, not that it was a surprise, apparently. People on the streets were talking about him, his name whispered over and over again everywhere Celeste went to take pictures.
The other model she was with had done the Monte Carlo coverage for the brand the year before, sheâd chosen a club and said that it was the place to be the night of the qualifiers and especially the next night after the final.
It was easy enough to get onto the list for the exclusive club, and the fellow model, a girl named Alexa, warned Celeste not to sleep with any of the drivers, âtheyâre pigs.â Alexa said as they got out of the limo, âonly good for pictures and tags but other than that? They talk a big game about liking it fast but these men donât have stamina for shit.â
Celeste laughed, following Alexa up past the security who didnât even ask if they were on the list. Alexa and Celeste where the types of girls who surpassed lists, if a straight man ever tried to refuse them entrance to a club, it would surely mark a coming apocalypse and pigs would be flying.
The VIP section of club was alive with people, full of the rich elite, the type of people who flew out to Monte Carlo with the pure intent of watching Formula One racing. Celeste decided, as she walked amongst people with pearls and diamonds adorning their bodies, that Formula One was an expensive sport. Alexa had mentioned early in the day, as the two of them absentmindedly waited for the cars to zoom past where they were sitting in the crowd, that some Formula One cars could cost around fifteen and a half million dollars to make.
Celeste had nearly fallen out of her seat at the number, and her mouth had gone dry as her eyes went to the track, watching the expensive cars who could at any moment flip and waste so much money.
The thought of cars crashing was swept from Celesteâs mind as she was dragged by Alexa through the crowd of people. The racers werenât hard to spot. They were all decked out in sponsored caps and casual outfits. The only people in the room who didnât feel like they needed to dress up, because they didnât. Every rich person in the room was there for them, the racers had all the power, all eyes on them.
Some were surprisingly young looking, and many of them were smaller than Celeste expected. âWhy are they so tiny?â Celeste whispered, stopping Alexa in her tracks as Celeste looked at the racers.
âThe more weight thatâs in the car, the slower it goes, smaller is better⊠for once.â Alexa teased, âcome on.â
Then they were in the midst of the racers, Alexa hugging a man she fondly called Ash. He was a bit bigger than the others, but still not up to Celesteâs standards. Her eyes wandered, a smile on her face flashed to anyone Alexa introduced her too.
A song came on and Celesteâs hand tightened around Alexaâs, âoh my gosh, this is my song!â Celeste said, looking at her with pleading eyes, âcome dance with me?â
âYou go ahead, I have to catch up with some friends.â Alexa said.
Celeste didnât need to be told twice, letting go of her friend to escape to the dancefloor. It was out of the way of the VIP section, filled with a younger crowd that Celeste felt akin to. She meshed in, lost within the swarm of dancing people. The song was new, by an artist sheâd followed since his boyband years. His new music was rich and fun, the artist making a true name for himself as a rockstar.
Her hips swayed to the music, the beautiful metallic sheer dress hugging all her curves as she smiled and danced with the people who made room for her. Sheâd never had issues fitting in, least of all on a dancefloor.
When the song finished, she continued to dance, even though the next songs werenât her favourites. She was just beginning to sweat when a hand grabbed hers, Alexa pulling her roughly, âCeleste come with me now!â
By the time theyâd exited the crowd, it was obvious where Celeste was taking her. Standing in the VIP section, surrounded by racers, looking as handsome as ever, was Harry Styles, the very artist that Celeste had swooned over when his song had come on.
Her heart froze in her chest and she stopped in her tracks, pulled harshly again by Alexa, âcome on!â Alexa said, âyou have to meet him!â
***
Calum was becoming an expert in the art of opening and spraying champagne. Heâd won the Monaco Grand Prix, taking the first spot like he was entitled to it, and keeping it until heâd crossed the finish line. His entire body was on fire, heart racing in his chest.
Ashton stood next to him, heâd finished third, which was also impressive. It was obvious that theyâd be celebrating that night, after the interviews. Calum was excited about the night ahead, heâd always found Monte Carlo to be a dreamlike city, wonderous and in a way romantic.
He wasnât sure what would happen that night, but if it was anything like his triumphant day, he knew it would be amazing. Nothing could pull him away from his post win high, and he was sure of that.
***
It was her.
Calum blinked a few times to make sure he wasnât dreaming. No, it was her. The girl from the bar. The influencer whoâd weaseled her way into his brain without even knowing it, was there, a few yards away. She had a glass of champagne in her hand, but it was still full.
Calum recognized the girl next to his influencer, a model named Alexa. Heâd met her at a few of his races, she was a brand endorser for a number of the same brands Calum worked for. He knew he was on her Instagram, tagged a few times, pictures of the two of them standing next to each other, her smile much larger than his. Alexa was a nice girl, he enjoyed her, but Calum generally tried to stay away from models, he wasnât quite sure why.
Alexa spotted him a moment later, her eyes widening as she motioned him over, opening her arms to pull him into a tight hug, âI can't believe you won!â she screamed, âthatâs what? Your third race in a row? Whatâs your secret Hood?!â
Calumâs eyes darted between Alexa and the influencer next to her, still not introduced, waiting politely for his answer.
âUh-â Calum wracked his brain for a witty response but nothing came, âwhoâs your friend?â
Alexa didnât even seem to mind that he hadnât answered her question, âthis is Celeste.â she said.
Celeste held out a hand, ânice to meet you-â
âCalum.â
âCalum.â she repeated his name, a silly smile on her face. The name tasted sweet on her tongue, âI think⊠have we met before?â she tried to play it cool, but she knew exactly where sheâd seen him. This was the mystery hunk who frequented her bar back in New York.
For months sheâd been trying to work up the courage to go talk to him, and now there he was, halfway across the world in a club that was too loud, a new title added to his impressive resume.
Calum nodded, âwe go to the same bar in New York.â he didnât even bother dancing around the idea of where they knew each other from.
Celesteâs heart leaped in her chest.
âYou two know each other?â Alexa asked in shock.
âNot really-â Celeste began as Calum said âno.â they both stopped, waiting for the other to continue. Both of them blushed, Calum readjusting his guinness cap on his head.
A man with honey coloured curls appeared, arm going around Calum as he greeted Alexa, âwhoâs your friend?â Ashton asked.
âCeleste.â Celeste answered, holding out her hand to him.
Calum watched every movement, loving every motion.
âIâm Ashton,â the man said, turning to Alexa, âyou need a drink.â he stated, grabbing Alexaâs hand.
âOnly if youâre buying.â Alexa teased, allowing Ashton to pull her towards the bar, leaving Calum alone with Celeste.
âSo you won today!â Celeste said enthusiastically, âthat must be so great for you!â
Calum could see her struggling with her words, âyou donât watch F1 much do you?â
âF1?â
âFormula One.â Calum corrected himself with a laugh.
âNo, I don't.â Celeste admitted awkwardly, âfast cars arenât really my thing.â
âReally?â Calum asked in shock, she looked like the kind of girl who would own a luxury car, but maybe he was getting ahead of himself.
âYeah, I don't know, fast cars, crashes, guess Iâm a bit of a scaredy-cat.â Celeste laughed, sipping her champagne.
âI could take you for a drive.â Calum stated, the words left his mouth before he could stop them, âI mean, my Ferrari is down at the track-â
âIâd have to be really drunk to agree to that.â Celeste laughed, the tone of it twinkling deliciously and making Calum smile.
âThen, cheers.â Calum clinked his beer with Celesteâs champagne glass.
âTo F1.â Celeste said, already incorporating the new term Calum had taught her.
Calum smiled at her, âTo fast cars, crashes and scaredy cats.â
***
âWe are not doing this.â Celeste said, even as she got into the car. Calum closed the door behind her, hurrying to his own side to get into the driver's seat, âCalum, your seatbelt is straight out of bondage porno.â
âWatch a lot of those?â Calum laughed, his skin heating as he turned to look at the model who was holding the harness like a seatbelt.
âCalum!â Celeste said loudly again, jaw-dropping as she looked at him, âno!â
Calum grinned, reaching over to help her put the seatbelt on. He hadnât pushed her to drink more, Celeste had done that on her own. Sheâd said after a few sips of champagne that âit wasnât every day a formula one racer offered to take a gal out for a driveâ and had downed her glass. Seeing she was serious, Calum had put down his beer, having only had a sip of it.
He was completely sober, unlike the girl next to him. She was a bubbly drunk, much like the champagne that had caused her to be this way.
Calum grabbed the two safety helmets from the back of the car, handing one to Celeste. She looked at it like it was about to bite her, âwhat?!â
âFor safety.â Calum said, putting it on her himself before putting on his own.
âHow fast are we going to go?â Celeste asked.
âAs fast as you want.â Calum said, putting on his own seatbelt before looking out at the track. He didnât want to tell her that he would go over 200 km/h on straights, he knew he was being devious but he didnât care so much.
Heâd done this before, never with a model, but it wasnât uncommon for him to show up and go for a celebratory lap of the track the night after a win. Heâd even left his car on the track, having always planned on coming and doing this. Security was always nice to him, partly, he supposed, because he was a winner, but also partly because he was a nice guy.
âFast.â Celeste whispered, then she looked at him, âwait, not super fast,â she said, then she frowned, âno, fast? Maybe?â
Calum laughed, âI'll just start, and if you want me to go slower, I can, yeah?â
âOkay.â Celeste said, her eyes lingering on the racer's profile, âpretty.â she mumbled, so quietly that Calum almost didnât hear her. He felt his skin heating, could feel his ears turning red as the car roared to life, the engine purring.
âFuck.â Celeste said, grabbing at the car door.
Calum laughed, turning to look at her, âwe havenât even moved yet.â
âWhat if I don't want to anymore?â
Calum took his foot off the brake and the car rolled about two feet, making Celeste grip the door tighter.
âWe can stop.â Calum said, easing off the brake again to move another few feet.
Celeste took a deep breath, then turned to look at him, âMurder me.â she stated.
Calumâs breath caught in his throat and he blinked, taking a moment before he realized she meant that he should drive so fast sheâll metaphorically die. He swallowed thickly. âYou got it.â he said, voice hoarse.
âHave you ever taken someone out on something like this before?â Celeste asked, suddenly sounding quite sober.
âWe call them hot laps.â Calum stated, âI've taken a few athletes out on some, done some drifting, some donuts-â
âCan we do some donuts? I love donuts.â Celeste said as Calum pulled onto the track.
âSure.â Calum looked at her, âdo you trust me?â
Celeste wet her lips, âno?â
The first part of the track was straight and Calumâs foot went all the way down on the gas pedal. Celeste squealed, thrown back into her seat as Calum grinned. They reached 230 km/h quickly and Celeste screamed as she saw the first turn coming into view.
She didnât tell him to slow down, which Calum appreciated as he adjusted the car for the turn, hitting the apex (the inner corner) perfectly as Celeste squealed next to him. Calum couldnât help but smile, pushing the car faster again as he came out of the corner.
He knew this track like the back of his hand. Knew it was 3.4 kilometers, nineteen harsh corners that would have him breaking for around 20% of the drive, giving him ample reason to drift just to make Celeste scream. Fuck. He loved it.
There was no one watching, just him and Celeste, and she obviously knew nothing about racing. Which meant he could get away with doing things that had them both thrown around the car, just for the hell of it.
It was the type of track where he couldnât go as fast as he wanted, he wanted to be able to show Celeste how fast a car could go.
The sharp turns were coming up and Calum was ready for Celesteâs loud scream as the tires skidded across asphalt, he wasnât ready for her hand landing on his thigh, holding on tightly.
He held the record for fastest lap in the world at this track, having completed it in 1 minute and 13.60 seconds, almost a full second faster than anyone else in the world. In the car he was in now, it would take longer, but driving always seemed fast to him.
He was focused behind the wheel, moving it expertly, taking each turn as Celeste screamed next to him, never letting go of his leg.
To Celeste, the ride felt like eons, every turn threw her to the side, her eyes unable to keep a track of the road in front of them. She simply had to hold on and enjoy it. Part of her did. Perhaps it was her drunken state, but she wasnât really that afraid. She trusted the man next to her, even if she didnât understand why.
The car skidded to a halt and just as Celeste thought it was over, Calum lurched the wheel to the side and threw Celeste to the left, as she squealed. The car continued to go in tight circles, a harsh weight pulling on Celeste as she screamed, eyes closed, mind dizzy.
The car stopped and Celeste took a moment to open her eyes, blinking at Calum.
âThat was a donut.â he told her.
âThank you.â Celeste whispered.
Calum laughed, then his eyes darted down to her hand on his thigh, she followed his gaze, offering him a lazy smile, âyou have nice thighs.â
âYou do too.â Calum said, voice hoarse. It was true. Sheâs what Calumâs friends would call âthiccer than a sniccerâ and it had not escaped his notice.
âDo I?â Celeste asked, removing her hand from Calum to look down at her lap, âyou donât think theyâre too big?â
âNo.â Calum said honestly, following her eyes now as he looked at her legs. He swallowed thickly, tearing his gaze away, âwhere are you staying?â
âI forget what itâs called.â Celeste said, a happy smile on her face, âcan I stay with you tonight?â
Calumâs mind was blank for a moment. He wasnât sure what she was asking for. He wasnât about to take advantage of her, no matter how badly he wanted her thighs wrapped around his head- âuh- sure.â
âSleep over!â Celeste squealed, âwe have to order pizza!â
âI donât eat pizza.â Calum said as he took off his helmet, reaching over to help Celeste take off hers.
âWhat?! Why not?!â Celeste pouted, looking very concerned.
âRacecar drivers are supposed to be small, less weight means a faster car-â
âBut youâre so big and tall.â Celeste smiled.
âYeah,â Calum laughed, âso i try not to eat much, donât want to gain any more weight than I already have, I'm a lot taller than most drivers.â
âThat must mean youâre really good.â
Calum smiled, setting the helmets in the back of the car then going to unbuckle Celeste. He stayed quiet, too humble to tell her that she was right.
Celeste turned to look out the window, opening the door once sheâd been released from the seatbelt. By the time Calum had gone to join her on the other side of the car she was laying on the ground, âthe stars are so pretty.â she mused.
Calum sighed. At the start of his day, heâd expected maybe winning the race. He hadnât expected to bump into the model heâd been lusting over for months from New York, in a club in Monte Carlo, only to drive her around then lay on the track and look at the stars with her.
Calum got down next to her, his shoulder just touching hers, âthe stars are pretty nice.â
âFor my part, I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.â Celeste breathed, âVan Gogh. I'm really tired Calum, can you take me home?â
He couldnât take her home, not really. All they had was his hotel room. But perhaps it wasnât bricks and mortar that made something a home, perhaps it was something else. Something not solid, not something you could hold in your hands. Maybe it was a feeling.
He wondered what could be home.
***
Celeste blinked, sitting up in a bed that was not her own. The first thing she noticed was the wall of pillows to her left. Curled up in the pillows was a head of dark curls and Celeste recognized Calum. His back was to her, a redshirt covering his broad shoulders. Even in bed, he wore Ferrariâs colours, it was intriguing.
Calum was awake, and when the bed dipped, he knew Celeste was as well. He rolled over and sat up, looking at her, âhow are you feeling?â he asked.
âMy head hurts a little,â she admitted, âyou took me racing last night?â
âI took you on the track.â Calum said.
She blinked at him, âI remember screaming a lot.â
A smile spread across Calumâs face, âyeah, I think you enjoyed it.â
âI think I remember enjoying it.â
Calum got out of the bed, âI'm going to go get you breakfast, waffles and donuts right?â
âHow did you know my cheat meal?â
âYou were ranting about it last night, wanted to go find a diner to make you some fried chicken and waffles.â Calum answered, leaning against the doorway, âI don't think theyâll have the deep-fried chicken, but they have waffles, and donuts, sprinkles right?â
âDid I tell you all of my favourite foods last night?â Celeste laughed.
âNah,â Calum smiled, âjust your top hundred.â he teased, âI'll be back soon.â
Celeste looked down, realizing she was also in a Ferrari shirt. It was Calumâs, the red of it more worn and comfy looking than the shirt Calum had been wearing. It was large on her and when she got out of bed it went just to her upper thighs. The fabric was not made for a woman, not made to curve over a large bum, as Celeste turned to look at herself in the mirror next to the bed, her eyes took in the way the shirt teased. Every movement had it riding a little bit higher, sneaking a sliver of bodaciousness that she was known for.
Her hair was still wavy from itâs styling the night before but all of her makeup was gone.
She had some sort of memory of Calum wiping a warm cloth over her face.
Yes, now she remembered. Heâd brought her to the hotel and had insisted on cleaning her up before letting her pass out. Heâd wiped the makeup from her face gently while she ranted about food. She missed American food, missed the diner in New York that she went to every Sunday morning for deep-fried chicken and waffles.
The door to the room opened and Calum stepped in, a box full of food in his hands. He set it down on the tabletop next to Celesteâs side of the bed, then he began rearranging the pillows, straightening out the blanket.
âThanks for the breakfast.â Celeste said, picking up a waffle.
âDonât mention it.â
âSo⊠are you headed back to New York soon?â she asked.
âThereâs another race in under two weeks, I think a lot of us are going to stay here, and then head to Canada together, France after that-â
âOh my god, I didnât know you raced in so many countries.â
âThis is round six, thereâs twenty-one in total, so thatâs still fifteen to go.â Calum said, not looking up at her.
âFifteen more races? Fifteen more countries?â Celeste asked in shock.
âYeah.â
âShit.â Celeste chewed on her waffle.
Calum looked down at his watch.
âDo you have somewhere to be?â Celeste asked.
âYeah, I have to go do training, then meet up with my team and talk about the race yesterday.â
âYouâre a busy guy.â
Calum offered her a smile, âsorry I canât stay longer and have breakfast with you.â
âItâs okay.â
âAre you going back to New York soon?â Calum asked.
âUhâŠâ Celesteâs mouth was dry, âI'm not sure yet.â  her skin was prickling. Sheâd almost forgotten about the charming brit sheâd met two nights before. The brit sheâd gone home with. The brit she was meeting up with in- âfuck, I have to go-â
Calum laughed, âgot somewhere to be?â
âYeah a date,â Celeste answered, shoving the waffle in her mouth, âI need to give you your shirt back-â she said around the waffle.
Calumâs expression had changed, but Celeste hadnât noticed, too busy looking around for her stuff, âKeep it.â Calum said, âYou can give it back to me in New York.â
âReally?â
âYeah, I have a lot of Ferrari shirts.â
âAre you sure?â
âUh huh.â
Celeste grabbed her small clutch purse, finding her shirt and skirt on the ground. She pulled the skirt up her legs, the stretchy material hugging her curves as she did a french tuck with the front of her shirt, âCalum, thank you so much for last night, for everything.â she said sincerely, turning to look at the driver.
âDonât mention it.â
She stepped towards him and wrapped him in a hug. After a moment of hesitation, Calum hugged her back.
âIâll see you in New York.â she promised as she pulled away, âweâll have to meet up at the bar or something.â
Calum smiled, but it was forced, âsounds fun.â
âIt will be.â Celeste ran to the door, âgood luck with everything! Congrats again on your win yesterday.â
âThanks. Get home safe.â
âI will.â
Then she was gone.
The twelve hours heâd had with her felt like borrowed time. As if heâd somehow stolen those hours from whatever god or being had kept the two of them apart for so long. And now she was gone. Calum felt like Cinderella at midnight, except it was nine AM and he wasnât a princess in a Disney movie.
He was a formula one driver with a job to do. And he wasnât about to let a pretty brunette get in the way of his work, even if she was the prettiest girl heâd ever seen in his life.
****
Theyâd followed each other that day, the notification lighting up Calumâs phone. The first of many pleasant phone buzzes signaling a message from the model. Sheâd posted a picture of chicken waffles on her story her first day back in New York and Calum hadnât been able to resist the urge to message her about it, congratulating her on finally quenching her craving.
Conversation with her was easy. Two weeks into casually talking, sheâd sent him a meme about friends, saying âus.â it hadnât thrown Calum off, he considered her a friend too. After all, the best relationships start with friendship, something Calum had learned after many failed attempts at love.
Celeste even congratulated Calum on winning second in the race in Canada and it had shocked him that sheâd watched it. âWhat are friends for?â sheâd messaged back, warming Calumâs whole body.
Their friendship reached a new height when she asked for his snapchat, and thus began the great dog snap challenge. Anytime either of them saw a dog, theyâd take a picture and send it to the other.
Calum was busy with work. Ferrari was ramping things up, and Calum had his head in the game. Because of this, he didnât have time to go home, even though he wanted to. Which was why he was so excited when Celeste messaged him to tell him sheâd be in England when he was there for Round Ten of the championship.
Calum didn't ask too many questions, too excited to see her.
It was an hour before Celesteâs flight to England, and Calum wondered if he should message her. He finally gave in, it was late for him and he knew if he didnât message her, he wouldnât be able to sleep. Before he could text her, his phone rang.
Heâd had Celesteâs number since theyâd met, 45 days ago, not that he was counting, and theyâd never called each other.
âCalum! Iâm not waking you am i?â Celesteâs voice was worried.
âNo, whatâs up?â
âIs it okay that I called you?â
âItâs fine, you sound worried.â Calum sat down, eager to give her his full attention.
âHave I ever told you I'm not into flying?â Celeste asked.
Calum chuckled, âno, you never mentioned it.â
âWell, I am, and I donât know why this is freaking me out so much.â
âI mean, it is a long flight, maybe thatâs why?â Calum paused, âyouâll be fine, I promise.â
âAre you my captain Calum?â Celeste asked sarcastically.
âNo, but youâll be fine.â he paused, âhey, when you get here, do you need me to pick you up?â
âNo thanks! Harryâs picking me up.â
âHarry?â
âYeah.â
Calum opened his mouth, then closed it, he wasnât sure what to say, âI didn't know you were seeing him?â he offered.
âItâs funny, I met him the night before I met you. He actually has been coming to visit me in New York, so I figured itâs my turn to head out to him, and when I saw it would line up with you being there i had to come.â
Calumâs skin was cold. Heâd thought she was coming to see him, but as it turned out, he was only fifty percent of the reason. Was he even fifty percent?
âBut Iâm coming to your race!â Celeste continued, âthe training ones and the final one.â
Her terms werenât correct but Calum couldnât be bothered to correct her. âIs Harry coming with you too?â Calum asked.
âYeah, heâll be around, but I do really want to see you Cal.â there was a muffled sound, then, âtheyâre boarding so I gotta go. Talking to you really helped Cal. Iâll see you soon! Iâm so excited!â
âMe too.â Calum forced out.
âAwesome! Love ya! Bye!â
Calumâs mouth felt dry, his body still frozen, but he managed to say âbye.â then the line clicked and Celeste was gone, but had she ever really been there?
***
He was late. Something that never happened, but heâd been late with Celeste. Theyâd gone out for drinks her second night England and had stayed up talking and ordering room service until three AM. Calum had lost track of time, another thing heâd never really experienced.
Shoving his legs into his race suit and pulling it up, he ran past a few mechanics, eager to get on the track. Heâd had a call early that morning that some rich person had paid a lot of money to have a hot lap with him.
It seemed to be the day of things that had never happened to Calum.
He usually didnât do hot laps, and Ferrari knew that. There was, allegedly, something special about the person whoâd requested him, but that morning, half asleep when his phone rang, Calum had been too tired to ask.
Calum was used to cameraâs being shoved in his face and he pushed through them, approaching the signature red car that heâd be using.
âCalum, whatâs it like driving one of the most famous British singers in the world?â a reporter asked.
Calum looked up, for the first time getting a glimpse at who heâd be driving around.
Harry Styles looked as Calum always supposed he would. His hair was perfect, and the black jacket he was wearing made him look like heâd come straight out of an Abercrombie and fitch magazine. Or perhaps another magazine, Calum didnât keep up with fashion.
Then came the dimples.
Calum could have thrown up.
âYou must be Calum!â Harry exclaimed, holding out a hand and offering a smile.
Calum shook his hand, hard, not smiling, not saying anything.
Then he remembered the cameras. Remembered that this was his job. Remembered that as the top f1 driver, driving a man with a huge fanbase, the video would probably go viral. Calum forced a smile, ânice to meet you.â he said politely.
âSo let's get to it yeah?â Harry asked, his British accent way too charming.
Calum nodded, going around the car to escape the paparazzi. He put his helmet on and took some joy in the fact that Harry would have to do the same, and maybe it would ruin his hair.
There were cameras in the car.
Calum wondered what would happen next.
âExcited for your race, mate.â Harry said, buckling himself in, âyouâve always been the one to watch.â
âDidnât know you were a big formula one fan.â Calum mused, the engine roaring to life.
âI wasnât.â Harry admitted, âwe have a mutual friend, she got me into it.â
Calum wondered how far Harry would go. After all, there were cameras in the car, and Calum had heard about Harry and his tendency to stay elusive.
Thatâs when he realized it was serious. The thing between Harry and Celeste.
Harry had spent a lot of money to be in the car with Calum. He was facing the cameras, despite his desire to mostly not produce content.
And he was talking about Celeste.
Calumâs foot stepped onto the petal and the car lurched forward. He hoped that Harry wouldnât talk anymore. Hoped it would be a quiet ride.
âHow did you two meet again?â
âWhat?â
âOur mutual friend.â
Calum wished heâd just say her name. But he understood why Harry was being aloof. Understood it protected Celeste from being prematurely exposed to his fan base, for better or for worse.
Calum respected it.
âMet in Monaco. She mentioned it was the day after she met you.â Calum said, making a point to mention Harry. He supposed it would ease Harryâs mind, knowing Celeste had mentioned him⊠even if it had only been a few days earlier. Calum pushed the car faster and then braked hard for a corner, throwing Harry to the side.
âThat was a good race by the way.â Harry said, âYou came in first, congratulations.â
âI like Monaco.â Calum said, âitâs a special place.â
âIt is.â Harry agreed. Calum couldnât be sure, but Harry seemed satisfied with their interaction. Calum wasnât sure what he expected, after all, itâs not like the guy was going to come out and be aggressive with him⊠even if thatâs what Calum might have done in his position.
The rest of the drive went smoothly, with Harry complimenting Calumâs driving and even letting out happy hollers at sharp turns.
As the car came to a stop, Harry turned to shake Calumâs hand, âmaybe I'll see you tonight.â Harry offered.
âMaybe.â no way in hell.
One last smile and the gorgeous man was gone, out of Calumâs car and hopefully his life.
***
âAre you sure you donât want to come out?â
âYeah, I need sleep tonight, the race is tomorrow-â
âDid⊠I- Harry told me about this morning, said he was eager to meet you, did you like him?â
âHeâs fine, Iâm just tired.â Calum lied.
Celeste was silent on the other end of the line for a moment, âbut tomorrow night, weâre still on, right?â
When sheâd first arrived and theyâd gotten drinks, Calum had promised to do the same thing after the race. But when heâd promised heâd assumed it would be just the two of them. Calum didn't want to go anymore, âyeah.â he said.
âOkay, because I had a lot of fun last night Cal. Anyways, have a good night, get some sleep, youâre going to be great tomorrow.â
âYou promise?â Calum asked.
âIâm your captain, I definitely promise.â Celeste laughed, the sound was magic, âlove ya Cal! Talk tomorrow!â
âLove you too.â
He hung up.
***
Celesteâs arms wrapped around him and when Calum lifted her off the ground, her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, âyou did it!â she screamed in his ear, a little too loud, but he didnât care.
He set her down and Celeste pulled way, keeping him close as she looked up at him, âthat was amazing Calum!â
âIt was nothing-â Calum brushed it off, looking down. He could be cocky about his driving, but not with her. With Celeste, his heart always seemed to swell.
âCalum, you hit every single apex!â Celeste said and Calumâs heart fluttered even more.
Sheâd learned a term used in F1.
He didnât even know what to say so he just looked down at her, unable to stop smiling.
âHarryâs not coming, by the way, he had to go back to London for work.â Celeste said, finally pulling away from Calum, âso itâs just us tonight!â
Calum let out a breath, smile widening, âso where are we headed?â
He didn't care that other drivers were probably going to celebrate at a specific location. He only cared about taking every moment with CelesteâŠ. As friends of course.
Of courseâŠ.
Who was he kidding, Calum knew he was walking a fine line. Part of him wondered what would happen when she came to England⊠before heâd found out about Harry. And although those ideas were no use anymore, heâd be damned if he didnât still take advantage of their time together.
âLet's get drinks?â Celeste suggested.
Calum smiled, âsounds perfect.â
***
Calum stared up at the ceiling and Celeste rolled onto her side to look at him. Calum smiled, turning to look at her too, âwhat?â
âIâm justâŠâ Celeste studied him, âI haven't really had any guy friends before. All the guys I know try to be my friend just to get me in bed. And weâre here and youâre not trying anything.â
Calum coughed awkwardly, sitting up, âwell, youâre seeing Harry.â
Celeste rolled onto her back, hair fanning over the pillow, âyeah.â
âHow is that going? You didnât talk much about him last time we hung out.â it was true. Theyâd been together for hours and Celeste hadnât mentioned him once.
Celeste took a deep breath, âI really like him. I think. I donât know. When I was a teenager and he was in One Direction he was huge. And, like every other teenage girl on earth, I was definitely a fan of his. Being with him feels⊠well, itâs odd. Heâs a great guy but I almost feel like I enjoy the grandeur of him. I enjoy the Harry that I know from social mediaâŠâ there was a pause, then, âfuck, this is why Iâm trying not to get drunk anymore. I always want to talk about philosophy and end up confusing myself even more. Forget I said anything, Iâm being stupid.â
Calum looked at her, watching the way her chest rose and fell. Her eyes were closed. She was frowning.
It was the most vulnerable heâd ever seen her.
Calum laid down next to her, âI'm sure youâll figure it out.â
âIâll probably just do what I always do, stick with it until something really bad happens, then run away.â
âThat doesnât sound healthy.â Calum stated.
Celeste smiled, âNever said it was.â she yawned, âcan I stay here tonight?â
âSure⊠do you need me to build a pillow wall like last time?â Calum teased.
âFor your protection or mine?â Celeste flirted, but Calum knew it was just for the sake of teasing, her expression changed, âwhy did you have to make a pillow fort last time?â
âYou asked for one.â
âSo you just built me one?â
âOf course.â
âYouâre really sweet, has anyone ever told you that?â Celeste asked, pulling the covers over her body.
âNo.â
âWell, people should tell you youâre sweet more often.â Celesteâs eyes were closed and from the wispy tone of her voice, Calum knew she was about three seconds from falling asleep.
âGoodnight Celeste.â
âGoodnight Cal.â
***
Calum stared at the deep-fried chicken on top of waffles. Celeste looked like a kid in a candy shop and Calum was shocked sheâd even found a place that served her favourite breakfast. She looked adorable, having stolen one of his Ferrari hats and a shirt.
It was big on her, but he loved it.
âCal, can you take a pic of me and my waffles?â Celeste asked, handing him her phone.
âSure.â he said, adjusting the camera as Celeste made a face, tongue out, fingers up in peace signs.
He took a few pictures, smiling down at them before he handed the phone back.
âDo you mind if I tag you?â Celeste asked, âI mean, I am the new Ferrari spokesperson after all.â she joked, flipping the hat so it was backwards.
âSure.â
He watched her. She was so focused on making the post, it was her job after all.
Calum wondered if Harry would mind that she was tagging him. But⊠as was plainly obvious, he was just Celesteâs friend.
Sitting there, across from the gorgeous model, Calum decided heâd be just that: a friend. Heâd be there for her always, or as long as she wanted him around. Heâd take her out for waffles and make blanket forts and support her, even if it meant supporting her with another man.
Heâd be whatever she needed him to be. And if that was simply a friend, so be it.
***
âCan you believe youâre almost done the world championship?â Celeste asked.
Calum smiled. It had been five months since theyâd met. This championship had felt particularly long for some reason, âmiss me already?â Calum teased.
Heâd been coming back to New York on his time off as much as he could. He was living for the nights he and Celeste spent at the bar they should have met in. The bar that, if heâd had the balls, could have been where theyâd met months before. Could have been where they had their first date-
âOf course I do Cal!â Celeste said, âfuck, I wanted to tell you once you got here, but, I canât hold it in anymore!â
Calumâs skin felt cold and anxiety overcame it. Sheâd been getting more and more excited about Harry and any time she had news, Calum was scared what it would be.
âHarry and I are getting married.â
Calumâs mouth was dry, when he opened his mouth to speak it hurt and he had to swallow thickly, giving him the time to think, âcongratulations.â
âYouâll come right?â
âWhen is it?â Calum asked, worried by the eagerness in her voice.
Celeste and Harry had just come out as a couple a month earlier, when heâd taken her to an event. Calum hadnât looked at the pictures but Celeste had sent him snaps of her dress before she went, and Calum had been so upset heâd gone to a gym to punch things.
âHarry wants it soon, weird right? I didnât think he was the marriage type.â
Calum bit his tongue. Heâd never brought up the night in England when Celeste had told him she worried about why she was with Harry. He wanted to bring it up.
He chose not to.
âAnyways, next month I think?â
Calumâs chest hurt.
âSo youâre coming right?â the hope in her voice made it worse.
âIâll be there.â Calum choked out, âI have to go.â
âAw really?â
âYeah, sorry, talk later?â Calum collapsed into his bed.
âGood luck in your race tomorrow. Last one, then youâre coming home.â
Home. Heâd wondered before if home was a feeling. Heâd felt it every time he was in the bar with Celeste, or grabbing waffles, or with her staring at the stars or even the ceiling.
He wondered if heâd ever feel home again.
***
Alexa looked at Calum. Heâd not been impressed to be there. Every time Celeste came out in a new white dress, heâd put on a big happy face, but as soon as Celeste was gone heâd frown again, sitting back and sighing.
âArenât you happy for her?â Alexa asked. Sheâd heard about Calum and Celeste being good friends. Hell, part of Alexa wondered if Calum had surpassed her on the friend scale. Not that Alexa had minded, she was busy and working in LA more and more, which made it harder to keep up with Celeste.
âYeah. Of course.â Calum said.
âYou donât look happy.â Alexa pointed out.
Before Calum could respond, Celeste called for Alexaâs help and Alexa disappeared. Calum pulled out his phone, opening Celesteâs Instagram. The newest picture was one heâd taken. Celeste bending over the pool table to take a shot. Sheâd kicked his ass that night, and Calum smiled sadly, wondering if sheâd still be up for dodgy bar nights after she was married.
Movement caught his eye and he looked up.
Celeste was standing there in the new wedding dress. It had a form-fitting corset that showed off her curves. Plain white and silky with harsher lines rather than a softly rounded neckline. Beautiful tulle layers of soft white fabric puffed out from under the corset.
She looked like a princess.
Calumâs heart leaped in his chest and he looked at her with eyes that betrayed everything⊠to Alexa, who was watching him carefully.
âWhat do you guys think?â Celeste asked, spinning.
âItâs the one.â Calum stated.
âI agree.â Alexa nodded.
Celeste beamed, her whole body alight with happiness as she looked at him, âI think so too.â
Celeste turned to go back into the changeroom and Alexa caught Calumâs eye, she frowned at him and Calum looked away.
Alexa felt bad for Calum, and as she helped Celeste out of the dress, Alexa also realized how much respect she had for the man. Heâd said he was coming to the wedding. Alexa wondered if that was true.
***
He couldnât do it.
He had to do it.
Calum sighed, leaning over the sink and splashing water onto his face. When he stood up, the face looking back at him in the mirror seemed put together.
Calum wished it was true.
The door to the bathroom opened and Alexa peeked her head in, âCal?â
âThis is the menâs bathroom.â Calum said, upset that she was disrupting him when he needed time alone.
âCeleste wanted me to come check on you.â
The anger in Calumâs shoulders disappeared and he took a deep breath, turning to Alexa, âIâm fine.â he lied.
Alexa stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, âyouâre at your best friend's rehearsal dinner the night before her wedding. Your best friend, who I might add, youâre in love with.â
Calum swallowed thickly, he wasnât sure what to say.
âItâs okay to admit it to someone Calum.â Alexa said, âI'm sorry.â
âDonât be.â Calum sighed, running a hand through his curls, âitâs my own fucking fault.â
âItâs not.â
âIt is. I should have said something.â
âWhen?â
âI donât know.â Calum said, voice rising, âbut I should have. Before the wedding, before the engagement, before-â he cut himself off, turning to rest his hands on the sink again, head bowed, âit doesnât matter.â
âIf itâs any consolation, I think youâre a really great guy.â Alexa said. There was a pause, then the bathroom door opened.
Celeste stuck her head in, eyes drifting between Alexa and Calum. For a moment she was expressionless, then she smiled, âwhat are you two up to?â
âJust talking.â Alexa said, âCalum needs to tell you something.â
Celeste entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She looked radiant as ever, in a soft lavender silky dress that Calum longed to touch. It lit up the green of her eyes and the tanness of her skin and Calumâs mouth went dry looking at her.
It had hurt to spend the whole dinner seated next to her, watching her laugh with Harry. Calum could barely stand it anymore.
âSoâŠâ Celeste said, âwhatâs up?â she looked between Alexa and Calum again.
âIâm going to give you two privacy.â Alexa said, quickly leaving.
Celeste turned to Calum, concern on her face, âis something wrong?â
Calumâs heart was nearly beating out of his chest. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Celeste waited patiently, searching his face for a sign of what was to come.
This was the time to say it. The time to tell her how he felt.
He couldnât do it.
Couldnât bear the thought of making her upset, two days before her wedding.
âYouâre not coming to the wedding are you?â Celeste frowned.
âNo.â Calum breathed out before he could stop himself. He wouldnât have said it on his own, wouldn't have brought it up, but now that she had⊠now that she was verbalizing it, he realized there was no way in hell heâd be able to go. Celesteâs eyes were welling with tears and Calum was quick to wipe them away before they could drip down her chin and tarnish her dress, âhey, itâs not you, I uh- work.â
The lie also slipped out before he could stop it. He couldnât make her think it was her fault. Couldnât tell her the truth.
âWork called.â he said, sounding more certain, âthereâs a new thing theyâre trying on my car so I have to get on a plane.â
âYouâre flying out?â Celeste asked in confusion, âbut your tournament just ended? I thought you were home for good? I planned the wedding so you could come-â
Calumâs heart broke at her words. He brushed more tears away from her face, hands cupping her cheeks. Celeste grabbed his wrists, looking up at him with those big green eyes.
His voice cracked when he spoke, âIâm sorry.â
Celeste moved his hands away from her face and hugged him, her body pressed against his front. Calumâs arms wrapped around her, âyouâre going to have a great wedding.â he said, voice hoarse, âbig and white and just what you wanted.â
Celeste cried harder and Calum wanted to go outside and crash his ferrari into a wall.
The door to the bathroom opened and Harry peaked his head in, immediately entering when he saw Celeste crying, âWhat happened?!â Harry asked.
Celeste pulled away from Calum and stepped instead into Harryâs arms, not saying anything as she cried.
âI got called in for work so I canât make the wedding, I'm flying out tonight.â Calum said. It was easier to lie to Harry, âCeleste is upset I won't be there.â
Harry studied Calum for a moment, then he nodded, âI'm sorry you canât make it.â
âMe too.â he paused, âI'll go grab Alexa, sheâll have makeup, I don't want to ruin your night-â
âWhen are you leaving?â Celeste asked suddenly, turning to look at him.
âIn two hours.â he lied, eager to have an excuse to leave.
He was glad Celeste was too shocked by the sudden turn of events to ask many questions or prod him for answers. He didn't have any answers. Knew the lies were weak.
Calum turned to leave but Celeste grabbed his hand, âwhen do you come back?â
âI donât know.â Calum answered. He didn't know anything.
Heâd go to Italy in a few days, that was Ferrari's home base. Heâd learn some more Italian so his mechanics could talk to him, heâd-
âCalum?â
âYeah?â
Celeste opened her mouth then closed it, then opened it again âdonât hurt yourself.â
âI wonât.â Calum looked at her quizzically, unsure where the sudden warning had come from, âsend me pictures from the wedding okay?â he wouldnât look at them.
Celeste nodded. She said nothing else and neither did Calum.
He left the bathroom, bumping into Alexa in the hallway, âwhat happened?!â Alexa asked, shocked by the tears that were welling in Calumâs eyes.
âIâm skipping the wedding.â
âDid you tell her you love her?â Alexa whispered, following Calum as he attempted to leave the venue.
âNo.â
âSo what happened?!â
âTold her Iâm leaving the country tonight for work-â
âCalum!â Alexa grabbed his arm and made him stop, looking around to make sure no one was looking at them, âyou canât leave.â
âIâm going to go to Italy-â
âYou canât!â Alexa insisted.
âWhy not?â Calum asked, beginning to get angry.
âJust-â Alexa looked around again, voice lowering, âplease stay in town. Until after the wedding, then you can go wherever you want, you can be out of here tomorrow night. But⊠trust me Calum. Itâs better if youâre here.â
âWhy?â
âI just⊠I have a feeling.â
âA feeling?â Calum laughed, but there was no humour in it.
âCeleste is my best friend. Sheâs never said anything to me about you but-â Alexa cut herself off as a server walked by, looking at the two brunettes huddled together in secrecy, âjust donât leave the country. Promise me.â
Calum sighed, âfine. Iâll stay, but Iâm getting a ticket for tomorrow night. then Iâm gone.â
âOkay.â
Calum studied Celesteâs best friend. Wondered what she was thinking. Wondered what she couldnât say.
***
Celeste had managed to get herself put together for the remaining rehearsal dinner, it was near done anyways. Sheâd gone home with Alexa, to the apartment they shared when they were both in the city.
Celeste would be moving out as soon as she returned from her honeymoon and her things were already in boxes, a suitcase packed for the trip Harry had planned to celebrate the wedding.
Alexa watched Celeste mope around. If Alexa didnât know any better, she would have assumed Celeste had just been dumped.
Except that she hadnât.
âYour wedding is tomorrow, arenât you excited?â Alexa asked, passing a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream to her friend.
âYeah,â Celeste frowned, âbut Cal wonât be there.â
âHarry will. Thatâs what matters right?â
Celeste took a deep breath, âyeah.â
âWhat are you thinking Celeste?â Alexa asked, a question sheâd become accustomed to asking. Celeste didn't open up much, even when prodded.
âI donât know.â Celeste fell down onto her bed, careful not to drop the ice cream.
Her eyes went to the wedding dress hanging there, then to the picture of her and Calum that theyâd taken in Italy months earlier. The two of them at Ferrari HQ where heâd shown her around and explained all the cars to her, talking in mangled Italian to the workers whoâd smiled at his attempts.
Celeste groaned loudly, âwell. Iâm getting married tomorrow.â
âUh huh.â Alexa didnât sound too convinced.
***
Celeste paced back and forth, hands on her hips. It was an odd sight but not a surprising one for Alexa who stood there watching the fully dressed bride have a panic attack.
âWhat time is it?!â Celeste asked suddenly, turning to look at Alexa.
âEleven forty. wedding is in twenty minutes.â
âOh my god.â Celeste fell onto a chair, hiding her face in her hands while careful not to smudge her makeup.
âTalk to me Celeste.â Alexa said, kneeling in front of her friend.
Celeste looked at Alexa from behind her fingers, then took a deep breath. For a moment Alexa thought Celeste would actually open up, then her mouth shut, âthis is a mess.â Celeste whispered.
Alexa sighed, âCeleste. Is it possible, that the reason you were so upset when Calum left last night, is because you wanted him at the wedding-â
âOf course I want him there!â Celeste frowned.
âBut maybe not as someone in the crowd? Maybe as the groom?â Alexa asked.
Celeste looked shocked for a moment, staring at her friend as if sheâd just said she believed the earth was flat, âwhat?â
âYou and Calum.â Alexa said softly, âdo you love him?â
âOf course I love him.â
âAs more than a friend.â Alexa specified.
âI-â Celeste looked distressed, âIâm getting married to Harry-â
âJust answer the question.â Alexa took Celesteâs hand gently.
âIt doesnât matter. Heâs gone. He chose work over being at my wedding and left the country last night-â
âHe doesnât have work today, and he didnât leave the country.â
âWhat?!â
âHe didn't come because he couldnât stand to see you with Harry anymore.â
âWhat?!â Celeste said, louder this time.
âHe loves you.â
Celeste stood up abruptly and Alexa followed suit. Alexa had expected Celeste to be ranting, but the girl in front of her was oddly silent.
Celesteâs hands were shaking as she pulled out her phone. She hit speaker and the sound of ringing filled the room.
âCeleste? Are you okay?â Calumâs voice was worried.
âYou lied.â
âWhat?â
âYouâre still in New York?â her voice cracked. The line was quiet, Celeste bit her lip, âcan⊠can you come, and bring your car please?â
âI-â
âCalum please.â Celeste said.
Sheâd never been one to beg, but there she was. Begging in her wedding dress.
âIâll be there in fifteen.â
âPlease hurry.â
***
Calum got out of the car but it didnât matter, Celeste was already running down the steps. Her hands clutched the dress, lifting it up as to not dirty it.
She was, in every sense of the word, a runaway bride.
And Calum had never been more in love with her.
He held the door open for the car. Heâd chosen the one without a top, it was old but still luxurious. A few girls had told him it was the black version of the car people drove off into the sunset in Grease, but Calum had never fact-checked that claim.
Celeste was beaming. Glowing really. And Calum was smiling back at her, helping her tuck her entire dress into the car before he closed the door and ran to the driver's seat.
The car roared to life, like a battle cry, or perhaps a battle won.
âI need to go to my apartment.â Celeste said and Calum didnât question it.
Sheâd yet to tell him anything. But since they were driving away from the church, Calum guessed the wedding was over. He was guilty that it made him happy.
The radio was playing club music, the type of hype music Calum liked to drive to, and Celeste turned it up. Her hair was getting messed up by the air whipping by them but Celeste was laughing, arms in the air.
She looked beautiful. Like a girl going to her wedding, not one running away.
Calum snuck glances at her at the first red light.
He could almost forget about Harry.
Until they drove up to the apartment and Harry was waiting there, leaning against his car. One of his friends was in the driver's seat, but he didn't get out of the car.
The look on Harryâs face was stony and it was obvious to Calum that he knew what was coming. âCalum, I need to talk to him is that okay?â
âOf course.â Calum answered.
Like Harryâs driver, Calum stayed in his car. Watching his best friend, the bride to be, get out and walk towards Harry. They were both dressed for the wedding, and it was odd to see them out on the New York street, even if it was a quiet one.
âCeleste, we need to be at the church-â Harry said.
âHarry, I love you but I can't marry you.â Celeste stated, âand Iâm so sorry it took me this long to figure it out.â
Harry was quiet.
âYouâre one of the most wonderful people I've ever met.â Celeste continued, âand I needed to tell you this in person, but I can't do this. Weâve only been seeing each other for six months and weâre rushing things, donât you think weâre rushing things?â
Harry sighed but nodded, heâd had the feeling too.
âBesides, weâre amazing friends and I do love you Harry, but Iâm not in love with you.â
âNot the way you are with Calum.â Harry stated.
It knocked the air out of Celesteâs lungs. It was as if everyone had known her feelings except her, and maybe Calum, âI-â
âItâs okay.â Harry held up a hand, âsâ not like I would have been able to live in New York forever, and you canât give up your sodding chicken and waffles.â
âDonât bash the deep-fried chicken and waffles Harold.â Celeste said, faking offense, but then she was smiling and so was Harry.
âCome here.â Harry said, opening his arms.
They hugged and Celeste was happy neither of them were crying. It showed that this was right.
âIâm not going to deal with wedding guests.â Harry mused while pulling away.
âMe neither.â Celeste said, âwe could both just not show up? That sounds like a good song.â
âYou have left me with a lot of material.â Harry laughed, âwell, I'll see you around Celeste.â
âSee you around Harry.â Celeste said fondly, giving the brit one last smile before he got into his car and left. Then she bounded over to the car, leaning down to rest her arms on Calumâs door, âhey.â
âThat looked like it went okay.â Calum said.
âIt did. So, my bags are packed upstairs for a honeymoon that Iâm not going on⊠what do you say we go somewhere?â
Calum smiled, âwhere to princess?â
âTake me back to Monte Carlo.â
***
The sound of the hotel room door opening woke Celeste up, her eyes landing on Calum. Theyâd arrived the night before and had immediately passed out, both too jetlagged to do much. Calum offered her a smile and Celeste stretched, yawning the words âwhere were you?â
âWanted to get you breakfast but I didn't think the stuff downstairs was up to your standards.â Calum said, leaning on a wall. He wasnât sure where to stand.
They were in Monaco.
Theyâd talked and watched movies the entire flight but neither had brought up the wedding.
He wasnât sure where he stood with her. Wasnât sure what he was allowed to ask.
Celeste could feel his awkwardness as she studied him. Then she stood up, adjusting the Ferrari shirt she was wearing. âCalum?â
âHm?â
âCome here?â
Calum smiled softly, uncrossing his arms over his chest, he took a few steps forward. Celeste held out her arms and pulled Calum to her, looking up at him, âCalum. Do you know I love you?â
âYeah.â Calum said, heâd heard it many times, after every phone call, after every ride he gave her home after a hangout.
âDo you know I'm in love with you?â
Calumâs breath caught in his chest and he wet his lips, mind racing. The thought that he was the reason for her ditching her wedding had crossed his mind but heâd pushed it to the side, instead deciding to be, as always, Celesteâs friend.
âCalum?â Celeste breathed his name, brushing her fingers over his cheekbone.
Instead of speaking he kissed her.
Heâd gone so long not saying the words ringing through his brain, they could wait a little while longer.
His lips were soft on Celesteâs at first, hesitant, as if he was afraid she would pull away. Only when Celeste wrapped her arms around the back of his neck did he get more comfortable, one hand cupping her face while the other went to her waist, pulling her closer.
Calum pulled away and his entire body shuddered for a moment, in something like pure ecstasy, maybe shock.
Celeste smiled up at him, kissing his lips once more softly, âAre you okay?â she asked.
Calum laughed, returning her grin, he shook his head a little, âI just-â he couldnât find the right words to explain how he was feeling, Celeste waited patiently and- god, he loved her so much.
She could see it in his eyes.
Calumâs fingers dug into Celesteâs hips and she beamed at him, brushing her fingers against his cheeks. She could feel what was unsaid and almost appreciated it more because he couldnât find the words to say it. Sheâd always had a connection with Calum that seemed to be on another level, and moments like this confirmed it to her.
Moments like this. She enjoyed the thought of that, of more to come.
âAre you going to kiss me again?â Celeste teased, eyes darting down to look at his lips then up at him again.
Calum kissed her, not as hesitant as the first kiss. His hands went to her waist immediately, one of them dipping down to just above her bum. His fingers bunched in the red fabric and the cool air met Celesteâs ass. She was in a thong, Calum hadn't noticed yet because sheâd been covered by the shirt since the night before, but when his hand dipped a little lower, he groaned into her mouth and Celeste knew heâd discovered the flimsy fabric covering her.
His hand kneaded her ass harshly, and Celeste smiled against his lips, loving the way it felt, loving the way Calum was groaning in anticipation. Celeste pressed against his front, already able to feel his hard on straining his grey sweats.
Then Celeste pulled away and Calum let her go, eyes opening questioningly.
Celeste pulled off the Ferrari shirt Calum had given her, revealing her near nudity underneath. Calum licked his lips, eyes focused on her chest. Then Celeste sat down onto the bed, her thick thighs looking deliciously curvy and grabable, Calum couldnât hold himself back. He was between her legs before he could help himself, kneeling on the floor and tearing off her black silk thong.
âCalum!â Celeste laughed, fingers tangling in his curls. Sheâd not expected him to be so eager, expected him to go for kissing first. She had no idea how long heâd been waiting to taste her.
Calumâs fingers danced over Celesteâs calf and he moved it to be on his shoulder, his lips trailing up higher and higher. He kissed both thighs, nipping a little at the skin, fingers digging in as he held her in place.
âSo pretty.â he mused, more to himself than anything.
Her fingers gripped his curls when his lips finally met her, wrapping around her clit. Heâd had enough buildup. Enough teasing. He wanted to hear her moaning his name, wanted to watch her come undone under him.
The first moan was soft, more like a whimper, and Calumâs whole body felt like it was lit in flame. He sucked harder on her clit, fingers digging into her delicious thighs where they were on his shoulders. Her skin was warm and smelled like flowers, he wondered how she always smelled so good.
Celesteâs eyes were closed, lips parted, sinful, soft noises whispered into the cosmos as her lover devoured her.
Her lover⊠yes, that is what he was.
Calum was her lover in every sense of the word. It had just taken her a long time to realize it. He did everything for her and as he brought her to her first high, her heart filled with love. Love that had always been there, unidentified and growing. Now that she knew what it was, she was never going to let him go.
Calum licked his lips, looking up at Celeste. Her eyes were still closed, chest rising and falling softly as she chased her breath. He took her legs off of his shoulders and Celeste opened her eyes, looking down at him with a lazy smile. A comfortable smile. As if theyâd done this a thousand times, âhi.â she said, voice near a whisper.
âHow are you feeling?â he asked.
Her smile widened, âcome here.â she said, instead of answering his question.
Calum moved to be on the bed with her, settled between her legs that wrapped around his waist.
He kissed her shoulder first, then her collarbone, moving up her neck before he reached her lips. When he kissed her, he kissed her gently. One of his hands came up to brush over her nipple, earning a soft shudder from Celeste that made him smile against her lips. âYouâre so beautiful.â he told her, kisses traveling to her neck as she wrapped her arms around him, a sigh of content leaving her lips, âfucking love you.â he murmerred.
Celesteâs skin felt warm and her heart lurched in her chest. She knew he loved her, but hearing him say it was different. She brought his lips back to hers and kissed him like her life depended on it, part of her thought it did.
The pressure of his hard, clothes cock, against her sensitive entrance had her moaning within seconds, eager to get rid of Calumâs clothes. Soon, his Ferrari shirt has joined the one she was wearing on the floor and his joggers following soon after.
âI wanna top.â Celeste said against Calumâs lips and he paused, giving her a look but agreeing. He got onto his back and watched her straddle him, lining herself up with him. She sank down slowly, both of them groaning at the way it felt.
He had to admit it was a beautiful view. The first bounce had her breasts moving in a way that made Calumâs mouth water. His hands reached up to cup her breasts and Celeste moaned, continuing to bounce up and down on him.
Calum hadnât had many religious experiences in his life.
This was one of them.
One of his hands went down to her ass, giving it a test smack that made Celeste laugh, her eyes opening. Her hands went to his chest and she leaned over him, kissing his neck while she continued bouncing up and down. He could see the way her ass was moving with each bounce and Calum groaned, eyes closing as he enjoyed the way it felt.
He was usually the top, usually the one doing all the work. It was nice to just lay back and relax and be doted on, especially since he loved her. Every kiss made him tingle and his heart was racing in his chest.
He felt the way he always felt after a race. It was exhilarating.
His arms wrapped around Celeste, slowing her motions so he could roll them so he was on top. The pace he wanted was faster than the one she had been giving him, and now it was his turn to make her feel good.
She looked so beautiful under him, and the feeling of her breasts pressed against his bare chest did not go unnoticed. He wanted to be kissing her, touching her, loving her.
He angled his hips differently, hitting a spot inside of her that had Celesteâs legs tightening around his waist, âholy shit.â she breathed, moaning loudly.
Her fingers went to his curls again, tugging lightly at the dark strands. Their lips were passionate and slow against each other, tongues clashing, teeth biting. Then Calum grabbed one of her hands, interlocking their fingers as he pressed it down into the bed.
âIâm gonna-â Celeste began but Calum cut her off with his lips, pace quickening.
The whole bed was moving with each thrust, and Celesteâs whines were getting louder as he kissed her. He could feel her fluttering around him, a sign of her impending high. Celeste squeezed Calumâs fingers tight, high whimpers stopping as her whole body tensed, orgasm hitting her.
She was so tight around him that Calum came too, thrusts getting sloppy as they rode out their highs. Their kisses were open-mouthed, both of them moaning into each other's mouths.
When they were both done, Calum stopped gripping her hand so hard, instead, he pressed soft kisses over her face. âFuck, I love you.â he whispered.
Celeste smiled up at him, âI love you more.â
âNot possible.â
***
The usual patrons of the bar watched the gorgeous couple play pool.
She was dressed in red, a colour sheâd adopted to support her boyfriend. The colour made her glow, but her boyfriendâs smile was brighter. He watched her with complete adoration, even when she sunk a ball and got one step closer to beating him.
They were the same people theyâd been when they were strangers.
Heâd quit smoking, claiming he didn't need the high anymore, after all, he was with the love of his life. He still sometimes brought a cigarette or two to give to the bouncers, chatting with them outside before joining Celeste in the bar.
Celeste still played pool with girls who challenged her, but this time, Calum would come to stand behind her. Watching, his arms looped around his girlfriend, enjoying the way she chatted to the girls like they were old friends.
But they were happier, elevated versions of themselves. Theyâd always dazzled before, but together, they were an unstoppable force. They had the type of happiness people could only dream of.
Calum had always heard that if you dated your best friends, things would be okay.
With Celeste, his best friend, in his arms, he knew it was true. Her smile was contagious, it always had been. Watching her dance away, her dress teasing him, Calum was thankful for everything that had happened.
Thereâd been a time he hated himself for not talking to her, but it had led him to where they were now. Heâd never believed in fate.
He did now.
********
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#calum hood#calum hood oneshot#calum hood one shot#oc#celeste#softforcal#5sos#5sos smut#5sos oneshot#5sos one shot#calum hood smut#calum 5sos#5 seconds of summer#5 seconds of summer oneshot#5 seconds of summer one shot#f1#f1 calum hood#racecar driver calum hood#au#racecar 5sos#racecar calum hood#nascar#nascar calum hood#oneshot
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Change Your Mind
Summary: Calum runs into an old flame
Word Count: 2.4k
And away, and away we go!
__
âCâmon!â Calum laughed, grabbing her hand and breaking out into a run, the night air cool on his face.
âCal, wait!â she laughed along with him, breathless as he dragged her along. âMy legs arenât as long as yours!â
âHere!â he said, an idea coming to him. He stopped in his tracks, crouching slightly. âHop on.â
She jumped on his back, wrapping her legs over his hips and her arms around his neck.
âAw!â Michaelâs girlfriend, Amanda, mock-pouted at the blonde, swatting at his arm. âWhy canât you carry me like that?â
Michael side-stepped away from his girlfriend. âI can either hold you, or the baby. Which is it?â
âDonât you dare drop my baby, Clifford. Thatâs precious cargo.â
âYour baby? Last I checked it was our baby.â
âCutest boy this world has ever seen!â Y/N called out from her spot on Calumâs back.
âHey!â Calum protested, loosening his hold on her legs like he was gonna drop her.
âCalum!â she shrieked.
He laughed as he tightened his grip. âBetter watch yourself.â
âYou wouldnât really drop me, would you?â Her voice was a whisper by his ear.
He tilted his head to the side to flash her a grin. âNever, baby. Iâll always catch you.â
âMmm, you better,â she warned, kissing at his cheek.
âFuck, this is amazing isnât it?â Amanda asked as she laid down in the grassy field. âItâs like the whole world is spread out before us.â
âToday, high school graduates. Tomorrow⊠who knows! Weâll make it up as we go!â Michael said with a grin.
âTomorrow, London,â Calum came up with his answer. âWeâre gonna be rockstars, Mike.â
In that moment, staring up at the night sky, the four friendsâ futures never looked brighter or more tightly intertwined.
~Ten Years Later~
âMike? You get one of these too?â Calum asked, flashing an envelope with their high school crest on it.
âYup,â Michael responded, not tearing his eyes away from the screen and the video game he was playing with his son, Lincoln. âCanât believe itâs already been ten years.â
âI can,â came Amandaâs slight scoff. âWe got the time stamp to prove it, Mikey.â She ruffled both her husbandâs and sonâs hair with either of her hands.
âYou say âtime stampâ I say âson.ââ
âYou say âsonâ I say âwinnerâ!â the ten year old boy gloated, rising to his feet for a victory dance.
âWhat?!â Michael stared at the screen in disbelief, setting his controller aside. âHow in the?!â
âIn yo face!â Lincoln continued to boast.
âOh, yeah?â Michael asked before charging to tickle his sonâs sides while the boy broke out into a high-pitched giggle.
âMikey, stop. The boy canât breathe. Look, heâs turning pink,â Amanda scolded.
Michael let go, looking over at his wife innocently. âSo, did you wanna go to this reunion?â
âYeah. Iâd love to see Y/N again. She hasnât seen Link since he was a baby. Oh! And we can finally meet her daughter!â
âBabe!â Michael hissed, but the damage was done.
âY/N has a daughter?â Calum asked, body snapping to attention.
âYeahâŠâ his friends admitted.
âHmm⊠good for her. How old?â
âUhâŠâ
âHow old is she?â Calum repeated, gritting his teeth, his brown eyes darkening.
âCalâŠâ Michael started, keeping his voice low. âShe made us swear not to tell you.â
âHOW OLD IS SHE?!â Calum barked, grabbing Michael by the front of his shirt. âTELL ME!â
â9! Sheâs 9!â The woman told him, her voice shaking.
Calum released Michael, slumping back like he had the wind knocked out of him. â9?â he croaked, tears springing to his eyes. âIs sheâŠ?â He pointed at himself
Michael nodded. âYeah, mate. Look, this wasnât how you were supposed to find out...â
âHow the fuck was I supposed to find out then?! You two lied to me for 9 fuckinâ years! She lied to me!â
âI know! But we didnât want to! We begged her to tell you. But she had convinced herself it wasnât worth bothering you about. That sheâd figure out a way to tell you. Mate, you gotta believe me. We wouldnât have hidden this from you if we had a choice.â
Calum hung his head in his hands. âI canât believe this⊠I canât believe this is happening⊠I think Iâm gonna be sickâŠâ
âD- do you want to see pictures?â
The man nodded, and Michael fiddled around on his phone. âI saved all the pictures into an album. Here.â
Calum took the phone in shaking fingers, slowly scrolling through someoneâs lifetime. His daughterâs lifetime. âFuck⊠she looks just like Y/NâŠâ
âFunny. Y/N says she looks like you.â
âYeah, I can see it a little in her face. Are my cheeks really that squishy?â
âYes,â was the laughed response.
Calum sighed, passing the phone back. âSo, when do we leave?â
~~~
Calum spotted her the second he walked in the hotel ballroom, nostalgia hitting him like a tidal wave. Every promise whispered on skin they had broken with goodbye flashed in his head like a movie as he made his way to her. He didnât know if he was more angry, or just flat out crushed. âWhatâs her name?â he asked once he was in earshot.
âWow. Thatâs gotta be a record for the Cliffords. Never were the type to keep a secret.â
âDonât deflect the blame on them. Whatâs her name?â
âAri.â
âWhy?â
âCuz she needed a name.â
Calum breathed slowly. âWhy didnât you tell me?â he rephrased.
âIt wasnât your business.â
âWasnât my business?! Sheâs my daughter, Y/N!â
âLower your fuckinâ voice!â she snarled, looking around the room before gripping his upper arm and pushing him outside like a scolded toddler.
âI want to meet her.â
Y/N scoffed. âYeah. Fat chance of that happening.â
âOh, so you're just gonna keep me from her for the second half of her life, too?â
âHalf of her life? Sheâs 9, Calum.â
âThatâs halfway to 18.â
âNot everyone leaves their family at 18 like you did Cal! Some people actually stay!â
âExcuse me?! Thatâs why?! You kept my daughter from me out of spite?! Because I had the guts to make something of myself?! In case you didnât notice, Mike had the same story we did, and he got to do it with his kid!â
âYou think youâre the only one who could be somebody?! Iâve busted my ass for the last decade to forget about all the promises we broke! And I did it all while raising the reminder of everything we were, and everything we were too scared we could be!â
âWe were supposed to be somebodies together!â
âYou left me!â
âI didnât do it on purpose! I had to do what was best for me!â
âI did too!â
âIâm never gonna forgive you for thisâŠâ
âGood thing I never asked you to.â
âOh, I canât believe you! Who are you protecting? Her? Or you? Iâm not the bad guy here. Youâre the one who made a huge ass decision about our lives without talking to me about it.â
âKinda like you did?â
âWhen did I ever do something without talking about it with you first?! I asked you to come with me to London. You didnât want to. I said letâs try to make it work. You didnât want that either.â
âWe didnât talk through shit, Cal. You talked. But you always had your mind made up before you ever opened your mouth. And you still do.â
âThen you should know that Iâll do whatever it takes to meet her.â
âFine. She has a soccer game in the morning. I guess you could come to that.â
âShe plays soccer?â
âOf course she plays soccer. Sheâs yours, ainât she? Memorial Park. 9am. Donât you dare be late.â
âIâll be there. And hey, you look good by the way.â
âEw,â she scoffed, but even in the dim lighting he saw her cheeks pinken. âYou look⊠alright I guess. Your curls always did suit you better in my opinion.â
~~~
Even if Calum hadnât seen the pictures of Ari, he would have been able to pick her out of a crowd with her wild, dark curls held out of her face in a ponytail as she ran about the field. Calum and Y/N sat in tense, but not uncomfortable silence next to each other in the stands before Calum finally spoke up at the start of the second half. âYou know you robbed me of 9 years worth of mornings like this?â
â5, actually. Sheâs been playing since she was 4.â
âWas talking about mornings spent watching our daughter, but Iâm glad you agree with me.â
âI didnât ârobâ you out of spite, Calum. I know you already made up your mind that I did. And if thatâs what youâre determined to believe, I donât particularly care all that much. Like I said last night, itâs not like Iâm asking you to forgive me.â
âIf you think my mindâs made up, then you shouldnât see an issue with telling me why. Humor me.â
âItâs because we didnât need you. And I donât say that to hurt you.â
He scoffed. âCouldâve fooled me. Were you ever going to tell me?â
âI thought about it a lot. But the longer time went on, the harder it became. I mean, I didnât find out I was pregnant until you were already gone. I was 18 and alone. Did I make mistakes along the way? Yeah, probably. But I did what I thought was best. And calling you up in tears so you could give up your dream of being a rockstar to rescue us wasnât on that list. I didnât want you to resent me more than you already did.â
âI couldnât resent you if I tried. And trust me⊠I tried. You shouldâve told me.â
She shrugged. âYeah, maybe. But we didnât need you, Cal. And you didnât need us. And all three of us turned into the people we were supposed to be.â
âAgree to disagree. You may not have needed me, but maybe I needed you guys. And maybe the person I was supposed to be was supposed to be a dad to our daughter. And I may not be able to get these last nine years back, but Iâll be damned if I donât get the next nine. And all the years after that.â
She shook her head, eyes rolling behind her sunglasses. âItâs not that simple, Cal. You canât undo the damage we dealt with some inspiring words.â
âAnd whoâs fault is that? Look, Iâm not saying itâs gonna be easy. But I want to be in her life. You gotta trust me here.â
âItâs not that I donât trust you, Cal. Itâs not like you ran away. I mean, you did. But I had my chance to go with you. And I had my chance to try and make it work. And I havenât asked you to forgive me because I donât deserve to be forgiven. I had our two best friends lie for me because I was too scared to confront you myself. And I lied to myself by saying I was doing it for your sake. So you could live your dream. I saw how hard it was for Amanda and Michael in the beginning. I wanted better for us. And Iâm willing to admit that maybe I went about it the wrong way. But playing these maybe/maybe not scenarios isnât going to change the past.â
âIâm not looking to change the past, Y/N. I just want to be in her future. Donât you think I have that right?â
âYes. And that breaks my heart, Cal.â
âHow does th-?â he asked in confusion, before the realization hit. âOh⊠Because you made up your mind that I just want her. That Iâll never be over what you did to even contemplate wanting you too. Guess Iâll just have to change your mind.â
She blinked, not believing she heard him correctly. âY- you want me too?â
âHow could I want my daughter, and not the woman who gave her to me? Yes, I want you too.â
âCalâŠâ she warned tearfully. âIf youâre lying, Iâll never forgive you.â
âAnd if Iâm telling the truth?â
âI just might have to kiss you.â
âPucker up, sweetheart. Been waiting 10 years for this kiss, so you can bet itâll be a long one.â
âWho are you, and why are you trying to kiss my mom?â a small voice demanded.
Y/N snickered into her hand while Calum took in the girl with her hands on her hips and a fiery look in her eyes. âAri, sweetheart, this is my old friend, Calum.â
Ari looked Calum up and down skeptically, her hands coming off her hips so she could cross her arms over her chest. âThat answers the first part of my questionâŠâ
âAri!â Y/N gasped in shock.
âWhat? Iâm not wrong. Now, why are you trying to kiss my mom, Calum?â She cocked her head to the side waiting for an answer.
âBecause thatâs what adults do when they love each other,â Calum answered, taking the path of least resistance.
âNo⊠when adults love each other they have se-â
Y/Nâs eyes went wide as her hand flashed out to cover Ariâs mouth, pulling the girl towards her. âThatâs enough out of you. Would you behave? Please?â
The girl huffed, rolling her eyes. âFmm!â was the muffled response. She huffed again when her mouth was uncovered, hands brushing down the front of her jersey with unnecessary sass. âSo, you love my mom?â
âYes. Very much so.â
âGood. Because she loves you, too.â
âOh, does she?â Calum asked with a smirk. âAnd how do you feel about me?â
âMmmm⊠youâre alright I guess. As long as you donât try to kiss my mom in front of me again.â
âAri?â Y/N asked softly.
âWhat?! That was nice!â
âGet your stuff. Iâll meet you at the car.â
âEw! You are gonna kiss him!â the girl squealed with a shudder, before running off to get her things.
âSo, where were we?â Calum asked, rising to feet and closing the distance between him and Y/N.
âRight about here,â she breathed, stretching up on her toes to greet his lips.
âAri! Whoâs that kissing your mom?!â one of Ariâs teammates asked her as they giggled into their hands.
Both Y/N and Calum could hear the eye roll in their daughterâs voice as she answered with a sigh, âOh, thatâs just my dad.â
__
Tag List
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#change your mind#calum hood#calum hood fic#5sos#the finished product of that random 4am dream/thought#galcal irwin
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and we'd both stay out until the morning light
realizing i never posted this to tumblr. oops. ~vaguely~ inspired by 1973 by james blunt, an absolutely bitchin song i must say. and this piece was for miss helen aka @calumcestâs bday approx one week and change ago. i went off a lil about my love and appreciation for her and our friendship in the ao3 a/n but the gist of it all is that helen is so so full of love and light and beautiful beautiful words and iâm so stupid thankful that this mess of a world brought us together. helen, if u see this, i love you to absolute pieces and i hope u are well x
you can find this here on ao3 if you wanna read there
Michael doesnât consider himself to be great at much. Heâs young, and making mistakes and having to try again is still his standard. He kind of likes that, though. He likes that his practicality in most things is seen as maturity and not a necessary default setting. He likes how his mom is proud when he learns how to cook a new vegetable or how to get a stain out of something. But heâs also comforted by the idea that itâs not irresponsible (or too much so, at least) when he throws caution to the wind and goes on some wild adventure with his friends or on his own. That itâs okay if he doesnât know the word for something or has to google how to fill out a form because heâs still learning. Michael likes observing, learning about how he should be moving about the world.
That evening, something in the air feels electric. What exactly it is, Michael isnât really sure, but it has him buzzing with anticipation for something. Thereâs a humming in the air around his apartment weaving around him like a ribbon but itâs moving too fast for him to latch onto. But for some reason, he doesnât find it unsettling. Heâs finishing up the dishes from dinner when the soft music playing from the speaker in his kitchen is interrupted with his ringtone.
He wipes his wet hands off before reaching into his back pocket. The screen shows a familiar picture, one always guaranteed to bring a smile to his face. He swipes his thumb across the glass and hits the speaker button. âHi, Calum.â
âCome out with me tonight.â
His smile widens as he sets the phone on the island behind him so he can return to his drying rack. âAre we celebrating something?â
âJust being young and alive and in this gorgeous place and in love.â He can hear a dreamy tone to Calumâs words, evidence that heâs already begun a solo pregame.
âAll about the dramatics tonight, are we?â
Calum huffs in a mock frustration. âWe canât let this place eat us alive, Mikey. Come out and dance with me.â
Michael sighs with a smile still pulling at his lips. He can practically hear the twinkle in Calumâs eyes that he tends to get when batting his eyes at Michael as he begs him to live a little. He thinks of the lunch heâs meant to attend with his advisor the following afternoon, of the novel and glass of wine sitting on his coffee table that he had set out for his quiet Saturday night in. But then he hears a quiet please, babe? across the line and rolls his eyes affectionately while placing the measuring cups back into their drawer.Â
Maybe heâs meant to go on an adventure tonight. To observe, to see something new.
âIâll be at yours in half an hour.â
*
Michael has never really liked clubs. Heâs always found the environment to be one that bounces his brain between a place of numbness and overstimulation like his mind is a ping-pong ball. The duality of cocktails filled to the brim with liquor but also sugar only heightens the feeling. He prefers bright lights and sounds in a more controlled environment, like his computer screen or a movie theatre.
But Michael really likes Calum. And Calum likes clubs. So itâs fairly often that he finds himself with some brightly-colored drink in one hand and Calum grasping his other as he gets dragged through one of the night clubs near Calumâs new place.
The electric feeling in the air shifts with Michaelâs change in setting. As Calum pulls him across the dance floor toward the bar for another drink, he senses it again, but in a different tone than he had felt in his apartment. Now itâs the beams of light passing between each of the bright, flashing bulbs high above their heads. Itâs the energy swerving between the chattering, glittery people at the bar and the bass pumping below his feet. Itâs Calumâs breathy laugh in his ear and the touch of his lips against Michaelâs neck as he asks him if he wants something new to hold in his free hand.
Calum jumps up onto a stool at the bar as they wait for their next round and he pulls Michael to stand between his legs, his arms thrown lazily around his neck as he babbles through some story about some band that came into the studio that day. Michael loves watching Calum tell a story, his expressions adding their own layer of humor to the tale as Michael catches the rolling or widening of his eyes between flashes of colored light. Soon enough a couple more glasses are placed in front of them and Calum is reaching into his pocket for a few bills to pass back to the bartender before sliding down to the floor and pulling Michael back into the crowd.
Neither of them can dance to save their lives but that never stops Calum. He bounces around as Michael laughs and copies the movement. The liquid in their cups threatens to slosh to the floor or onto their shirts with each incredibly ungraceful swing of their hips.
âHow is it,â Calum says between pants into Michaelâs ear while wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him close, âthat weâre out nearly every weekend and we still look like dads trying to dance every time we get out here?â
Michael shakes his head, the liquor in his cup starting to take its effects as he giggles against Calumâs cheek. âWeâre musicians. One day when we make it big weâll be too busy playing our instruments on stage to dance around. It would be a waste of time to learn to move any different than this.â
Calumâs smile shines bright through a laugh as he spins them around following Michaelâs comment. âGod, what are we going to do when our friends start getting married? Weâll be a disaster.â He pauses to take a sip of the concoction heâs ordered most recently. âLuke and Ashton are probably gonna threaten to kick us out if we move from our seats at their reception some day.â
âThatâs how weâll convince Ashtonâs cheap ass to get the open bar. Weâre far more agreeable when drunk.â
âCheers to that.â Calum mockingly raises his cup and knocks it against Michaelâs.Â
The song changes then, the volume of the crowd rising with the song as the familiarity hits everyoneâs ears and minds. Calumâs face bursts into a grin and his arms tighten around Michaelâs neck to pull him closer to his chest. âMm, love this song.â Calum pauses to sing along to the chorus. âThink I love you also.â
Michael blinks his eyes open, not having realized that they were closed. He watches light bounce around them and a drunken blush paint across Calumâs cheeks and nose. Heâs had too much to drink to think too hard about it but really heâs never not questioning how he got so lucky. He lets his lips press against Calumâs nose, the rosiness in his own cheeks surely spreading when he catches Calumâs giggle through the music. âLove you too, Cal.â
They dance and sing for what feels like both hours and seconds. The mix of light and sound and those damn cocktails Calum keeps buying make Michael feel light like the confetti that starts flying around the room at some point in the night. He lost track of the number of nights theyâve had like this a long time ago, the center of glittering, happy chaos being a place Calum loves to frequent. Heâd follow Calum anywhere, including to a mindless and seemingly pointless celebration like tonight. Michael knows heâll go anywhere so long as he gets to keep watching the way Calumâs eyes and smile sparkle when even the faintest light hits his face.Â
Heâs watching it then, practically being blinded by it all, he thinks, when Calum catches Michaelâs hand and pulls him back in for another dance.
*
They end up at the beach.
Their phones died ages ago but as the sun just barely begins to peek out from the ocean horizon, Michael figures itâs around 6am. Theyâre both still giggling and blushing at each other like mad as they strip off their socks and shoes and stumble toward the ocean. Michael isnât even sure what heâs drunk off of anymore but whether it's Calum or the cocktails, he doesnât really seem to care.Â
Calum gasps at the temperature of the water as they let the little waves crash against their ankles, and he shuffles closer to Michael. He leans into Michaelâs shoulder, lips pressing gently against his neck as Michael wraps an arm around his waist.Â
The morning sunlight is just barely beginning to ripple over the dark water as they stand in silence, their breaths just barely audible over the waves. Normally seeing the ocean without the sun high up in the sky scares the hell out of Michael; hell, the ocean in general usually frightens him. Itâs so unknown, and Michael doesnât like being so close to something so vast and mysterious. Itâs why he canât think about space too hard most of the time either. He feels safe, though, and secure, standing there with Calum. Heâs always wondering if itâs too early to think that way about the boy standing pressed against his side.
Eventually Calum lifts his head and grabs Michaelâs hand, weaving their fingers together as he walks them back from the water just a bit before planting himself in the sand. âWeâre watching the sunrise from here,â Calum explains to Michaelâs confused eyes. Michael nods his understanding and drops down beside him.
âThis city scares the hell out of me sometimes,â Calum says with a sigh, his fingers still dancing with Michaelâs. âLike it always feels like Iâm doing too much and not enough all at the same time. And then I get so stuck on figuring that out that I do nothing. Thereâs so many creatives here that the air feels like itâs filled with thoughts and ideas and dreams all the time. Itâs so damn loud, you know?â
Michael nods, though the way Calum speaks he canât really tell if heâs actually speaking to him or not. He considers asking but then Calum starts up speaking again, his crinkling eyes still facing out toward the water.Â
âBut then I come here and itâs like the tide kind of pulls all of that away. This is the only place where LA gets quiet, I think. Itâs why I like to come out here.âÂ
Michael sticks his legs out in front of him and digs his bare feet into the sand as he ponders how to respond to Calum. âI get what you mean,â he starts as he drops his free hand against the cool sand and draws swirls with his finger. âI think this is the first time I havenât been surrounded by people in a while.â
Calumâs head drops to Michaelâs shoulder again and turns away from the water as he nestles his face into his neck. âMali suggested coming out here after Iâd had a bad day at the studio and you and the guys were all busy or something. Said it was her favorite place to gather up her own thoughts when she was trying out living here.â
As he drops Calumâs hand to let his hand reach up to tangle with the dark curls at the back of his neck, Michael lets the importance of this place, of Calum bringing him here settle over them. There are very few things that Calum keeps to himself, this spot apparently having been one until that morning. âThank you for sharing this place with me. Itâs a beautiful spot.â
He feels Calum shake his head just a little, his arm moving to wrap around Michaelâs waist as his fingers play with the hem of his shirt. âOf course. I wanna share everything with you.â
The electric buzz Michael has felt around him the whole night settles with him and Calum out on the beach. Now it skips across the gentle waves that grow bluer with each passing minute as the sun rises. It blinks with the light from the street lamps back at the road as they go back and forth on whether or not it is time for them to say their daily goodbye as dawn turns to morning. Its final act, Michael senses, is the shock he gets as Calum straightens up and gently lifts his hand to the back of Michael's neck, causing him to turn as brown eyes meet green for just the briefest moment before their eyes flutter shut while their lips meet.Â
*
âAnd thatâs when I knew that he was my soulmate, ya know?â Michael says, his smile widening as he watches Calumâs eyes sparkle, tears threatening to fall from his dark lashes. âBecause we should have been falling over ourselves with exhaustion at that point but I had never felt so awake in my life. I never wanted to sleep again because I never wanted to stop looking at him.â
A single tear does fall, racing down Calumâs cheek, and Michael lifts his hand from Calumâs grasp to gently wipe it away. âAnyway,â he laughs with a sniffle, his eyes pulling from Calumâs to face the room filled with their family and friends. âThank you all for putting up with my nostalgia and thank you for coming to help us celebrate today. Enjoy the reception.â
The music picks up once people finish their brief clapping and Michael sits down again while he watches people around the room begin to rise and walk in the direction of the cakes and the bar. His eyes follow Luke and Ashton as they wander in the direction of Calumâs parents and sister, presumably to say hello again. Ashtonâs eyes briefly meet his own and Michael laughs quietly as he watches Ashtonâs left eye drop into a wink. They share the look for only a moment because then Luke is dragging him along and a hand dropping to Michaelâs thigh pulls him back.
âI really liked that night,â Calum mumbles against Michaelâs neck, his lips pressing just below his ear. âLiked hearing you tell the story of it even more.âÂ
Michael canât help his laughter as a smile pulls at his cheeks. âListen, there are very few stories of nights out that I can tell in front of our parents. Had to go digging through my journals to really settle on one.â
âYou were journaling about me already back in the day? Thatâs so sweet.â
âBack in the day?â Michael questions as he sits up to meet his husbandâs (the thought of the word alone bringing butterflies swarming into his stomach) eyes. âThat was like four years ago, Cal. Weâre too young for anything to be âback in the dayâ yet.â
Calumâs face softens at his words, his hand lifting from Michaelâs lap to cup his cheek, his thumb running across his cheekbone. âI canât wait to grow old with you.â
He lets out a sigh while Michael blushes at him in response to the declaration. Calum leans forward to brush their lips together before rising, his empty glass in hand in need of a refill. Michael watches him wander through the crowd, shaking hands and exchanging smiles and kind words with every guest he passes while approaching the bar. None of it feels real yet, Michael thinks. Though itâs been less than two hours since they said I do so he figures heâs allowed a little longer to just be in awe of the fact that heâs got someone to spend the rest of forever traipsing through life with and that that someone is Calum.
And Michael still doesnât consider himself to be great at much. Heâs still young and canât hold his liquor and can only really cook maybe three vegetables. But Michael is great at loving Calum and being loved by Calum. And maybe, for now, thatâs enough. Michael finds himself thinking on that as he takes another sip from his own glass and gazes out to where Calum stands speaking to a friend and their partner. His cheeks warm as the three of them turn to look at him, a fond look resting against Calumâs face as their eyes meet. The ring on his left hand glitters in the light as he lifts it to gesture for Michael to join him.
Yeah, this is definitely enough.
*
#malum#malum fic#sorry im posting this so late oh my god#i am a dummy but im real proud of this lil piece so i am taking the time to post this here as well while a bit drunk#so
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in which lee rambles about how great writers are
I donât really know what this is. I donât know if now is the right time to do this, or a really bad time, or if it makes any sense, but I want to talk about it! I feel like a broken record saying âthe writing matters most, the writing matters mostâ but maybe I need to show what I mean by that? So, here is an attempt.Â
Iâm sorry not all of these are the same length and not everyone is here, because every time I see that someone is a writer I do try to follow but I donât always know/remember! Also I am weird about this sort of thing and donât want to tag people in a monster-long post, so Iâm just going to link. I also donât want to make this a producers vs writers thing, itâs not, itâs just, when I say I notice writer-stuff, an explanation of what, specifically, I mean.Â
Writers have a style fingerprint. Iâm sure someone with an actual creative writing or English background could describe it all academic-ly, but my ex-chemist ass is just going to call it a fingerprint.Â
My first game in Lovestruck was Starship Promise - I love Firefly, Iâm a bisexual disaster scientist by education, it fit. But I had been REALLY put off by GIL when it first came out (this was back when they released stories in parts? And the heroine, which I will get to) and though Iâd glanced at AFK, I mistrusted it after GIL and Medusa, who was who I was interested in, wasnât out yet. So I resisted a LONG time. I finally picked up LS and SP and played it explicitly because a friend said, you need to give this another chance, for a list of specific reasons.Â
And when Atlasâs route came out, I read it a stupid number of times. I must have re-read his season 1 & 2 at least eight times apiece (he is still my most read route, despite the fact I have not read his last season because I want to leave the story open-ended)Â so when I read Neil Dresnerâs route, I recognized the fingerprint. Not only that, when I was reading Jett and the episodes with the paint scene (YOU KNOW THE SCENE) came out, my breath caught with how lovely it was, a particular in-between moment and touch, and even though it wasnât a phrase I had seen, the style of it, had me re-reading (because it was gorgeous) again and again from the log for like five minutes and I thought, âI bet Melissa wrote thisâ AND SHE DID.Â
Physical touch! (& in-betweens)
Melissa-grey has a particular way of writing about physical touch in very emotional moments that is very real and grounded and ironically the effect is just magical. It creates these so skillful âin betweenâ moments, those little things that arenât dialogue and arenât metaphor but SHOW you that this closed off person is cracking for their little ray of sunshine. They are SO subtle and so beautiful, like, the heroine noticing the scent of a pillow, or a softening of an aborted hand movement. She sets up and executes these moments of physical touch as a conduit for emotional touch with characters who arenât ready to admit he latter and itâs DELICIOUS. Those little in-betweens are what I live for in story - and it includes all the supporting cast moments, who swell up to make the world feel lived in, and balanced (I loathe love stories where no one else exists! Thatâs a recipe for disaster, people need networks) I noticed when she stopped writing, and because I missed it, I went and bought the entire Midnight Girl series, as well as Rated (I hope that is flattering and not creepy!) and that style of writing is so unique, that without KNOWING, I picked it up in four separate routes (noticed in Sevâs s1, too!)Â
Pacing (& friggen heartache)
Another fingerprint! Ripping your heart out! Arthoure has had me in tears, MULTIPLE TIMES and I get very grouchy about it every time because I am the least sentimental and romantic person that I know (I once MOVED STATES to avoid an âI love youâ conversation. I once said âyikesâ in response to an âI love youâ and I once broke up with someone because I thought he was going to propose. Iâm a bitch) but I think itâs because of pacing! I know that producers play a role in that, but that actually makes it more impressive, because making each bit of story feel like it fits precisely the amount of space it needs when you donât really get a say in how much space that is has got to take a MASSIVE amount of effort. Every little hint, every emotional beat, every character tell, they drop at a consistent build so the emotional payoff is just brutal (in a good, cathartic way?) every time a route makes me cry I wait and see and YEAH ITS ALWAYS ARTHOURE. The sweep and sentiment of Remyâs season 2 is unparalleled. Across Time is gutwrenching, and I actually stopped reading Renzei at one point because I was so emotional over it I had to like, LEGIT TAKE A BREAK to recover. Pacing and heartache. I have to stop and wonder - is it because the routes themselves are so gut-punching? OR is it because she knows how to wring every last emotional drop out of whatever story framework is handed to her? Because, Ezekielâs villain costume is a bit silly (there I said it, it is)Â I get the cobra helmet shape in theory but in practice, ooof, but POINT BEING despite being skeptical Iâd be able to take his story seriously as a result, I was hiccuping from crying so much (and I am gosh darn adult, in my thirties, with three degrees and a high-stress job at pretty major company. I DONâT CRY EASY)
 Dialogue (& heroines!)
Xekstrin is the gosh damn master of dialogue. Clever, witty banter that doesnât go where you expect it to, meandering but natural topic changes that are delightful to follow and feel real, and--special shoutout for this, okay--the navigation of viscerally important topics like consent, kink, self-worth, power in relationships, self-sacrifice, and apologies in a way that is not stilted or forced at all (listen, I know Viv & Lyris are the most recent and they are amazing but I remember this first hit me when I was reading Astraeus, and I spent half the route with my jaw on the floor going, oh shit, oh shit. The communication! The navigation of the complexity of emotion going on, chefâs kiss! Casual isnât the right word, but, natural, maybe?). I donât actually take that many screenshots of the app--itâs usually single lines that get me--but when I do, they are almost always conversations from one of her routes, because theyâre so damn good, and often so unexpected, and yet always make such perfect sense for the characters involved. Dialogue is SO HARD OKAY. Actually try and transcribe a conversation sometime, itâs nuts how people talk vs how most people write people talking. Xekstrin also writes some of my absolute favorite MCs, and going back to fingerprints, I was reading Lyris s1 and right there in the first tavern scene, as we were following along with the heroineâs thoughts I went, ah, yes, I know who you belong to and I am SO EXCITED. Being able to give the heroine unique thoughts and quirks, to make her genuinely relatable, without overriding the necessary template of the genre dictates, is a skill all of its own. But I love her MCs! There is a beautiful balance of compassion, competence, and dash of bratty, wild, fun mischief. I can actually cheer for them. I can actually get behind them. I WANT the love interest to flop at their feet for who they are, not just because the story says so. And that comes from how the heroineâs thoughts are written, from her phrasing in conversations, how she sees situations, not just a producer saying âshe is a strong lead who is self conscious about her ears and sheâs nervous in the council meetingâ or whatever. I AM REALLY STRUGGLING to articulate this if you canât tell from how long I have been blathering. Maybe this - the heroine is the same across every route, presumably, yes? Everyone has the same base. I NEVER question, when xekstrin is writing, why the love interest falls in love with her. Side note - I had hard written off GIL after a bad experience with the standalone app. I only read Aurora BECAUSE I learned she wrote it, and I would have SO MISSED OUT otherwise.
A complete aside in which Lee grumbles about heroines and not writers!
(Complete side vent: Often, the heroine is, if not a blank slate, a sort of collection of assigned traits, and she often remains so unless the story demands she become otherwise. Which is fine! I donât personally, but I know a lot of folks self-insert, and so erring towards that makes sense. Almost all the otome Iâve played were originally written for a Japanese audience. When I played original Voltage games, starting back in 2014, I always had to remind myself - different culture, different culture, different culture, and it was not possible for me to relate to most of the heroines. I still enjoyed the stories, but I rarely cheered for the heroineâs romance, especially in some of the slice of life stories. I understood her, but I rarely wanted her to get with the love interest, I wanted her success to come in other ways! Another game company, Cybird, tried to âAmericanizeâ their heroine to IMO disastrous effect - it was such a stereotype, and made no sense since they didnât also Americanize the context, so she come across as, frankly, ridiculous. And frankly, Voltageâs GIL heroine REEKED OF THAT. When they first posted her on social media I was legitimately annoyed about it, like could you lean into this more? I think not. So when I talk about being able to relate to and cheer for the heroine, itâs a big deal, because my blatant mistrust of Voltage and their ability to craft a heroine I could tolerate was a BIG factor in how long it took me to give Lovestruck a try. I was willing to tolerate it in translated stories, I was so skeptical of -en only ones.)Â
Metaphors (& balance)
literacouture writes beautiful metaphors for connection between humans! Iâm really bad at keeping track of who writes what, but I purposefully kept an eye out on tumblr after reading Calâs route, because there were some lines that were pure poetry, and I wanted to keep an eye out for more. It is HARD to spin metaphors prettily without delving into trite, painful, purple prose cringe territory, and itâs navigated beautifully in Calâs route. Thereâs a balance between those spin-out moments and things that are tangible and anchoring and make it feel authentic and unique to the two characters involved, instead of just âI am trying to make this sound romantic and this is a romantic phrase so here it isâ. That balance is really necessary. You NEED the mundane alongside the metaphor or it doesnât feel authentic. Also. Trying really hard to write this without throwing any authors or producers under the bus, but...listen. I love Sin with Me. But the world logic (or LACK THEREOF) drives me up a wall. I donât read Cal because of his character traits or sprite or (sigh) his story. I read him because literacouture writes a beautiful romance.
 So anyway...
There are more! When I am less tired and donât have meetings, I will try and write them up (Please know there are so many routes I love, and so many things I do recognize across chapters! I donât even HAVE words for what theivorytowercrumbles accomplished with Helenaâs story not to mention how much I adore Cyprin, SummerLightningâs handling of Onyxâs past relationship was so deftly done when it could have so quickly become âmilk abuse for plotâ and joidecombat gave Sev a fresh, mischievous energy and navigated the dream/reality line with SUCH skill, and so on and so on.)
Iâve written a lot of reviews. And I try to give nods where I feel theyâre due - sometimes, it really is obvious that the whole teamâs work came together to makes something great, the world, the plot, the arc, the art, the words, and the music all fit into place in a well-crafted tour de force. And sometimes one piece or another is lacking, and Iâll admit Iâve left some...less than kind reviews to that end (I try and soften it, because I know there are humans on the other side of everything, but Iâve been harsh more than once with my opinions). Iâve read routes with plots that made me want to tear my hair out because I DO value consistency and logic to a degree, even if Iâm going to accept at face value that, say, space travel is a thing or demons turn to sand when stabbed.Â
In the end, these are romance stories. So I will let a lot slide when it comes to plot. What sells a story are the words - not the outline.
And if Voltage doesnât believe that - just remember that Hamlet existed long, long before Shakespeare wrote it. His was the version that lasted, because the people liked it best. The plot, the world, the characters, they all existed a hundred times over. Even just look at fan translations of manga. Why do people keep translating, even if someone else has? Because the words someone else picked donât do the story justice.Â
I donât know. Iâm talking in circles because I donât know my own thesis!Â
Maybe itâs just - the worlds these stories in are nice. But when I say Iâm a fan of something, the premise is like. 10%. The rest is the writing.Â
#lovestruck#lovestruck voltage#lovestruck writers appreciation week#this isn't exactly one of the prompts#but#it's in the spirit of it#brevity may be the soul of wit#but that just means I'm not very witty I suppose#this is not a complaining post#except for maybe one section where I go off on heroines COUGH#but it's flagged
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chapter thirty-nine: a hole in the wall
The winter term started for Sam and Marla both, but the former was fixated on her travels with Aurora upstate on the weekends for all the sit ins with Testament and their recording sessions. The latter meanwhile had her hands firmly in the thick of her junior year, such that Sam saw her one time in the duration of that first week, and she looked to be in a hurry as she headed off to her new class. Her iridescent orange hair always glimmered whenever she strode onward on the other side of the corridor.
But Belinda was kind enough to stand in with her, especially since they spent their art classes together, and she had befriended Eric and Greg in particular. She usually had to head on out to Poughkeepsie around Friday afternoons for the glass work, and she proved herself to be quite the friend to Sam in the meantime.
âI had my doubts about you, Bel,â she confessed to her at one point as they drove out to Ithaca on that first Friday. âYou seemed a little rough around the edges when I first met you.â
âThat's just my sense of humor, thoughâI've always tried to be a clown of sorts. Marla herself can tell you that, too. Some people just don't get it or seem to realize that some girls like to be kinda out there at times. Marla was one of the few people who understood that.â
âBy the way, have you talked to her at all?â Sam asked her with a glimpse over at her.
âWho, Marla?â
âYeah. I feel like I haven't seen her in a million years.â
âMar may have switched majors. I haven't seen her on the roster for any of your art classes lately. Well, Charlie's gonna be out here, too, withâwhat's their new name again?â
âTestament.â
âTestament, that was it. Anthrax are gonna be out here with them, too. We'll have to talk to him when we get a chance.â
âGood idea.â As the words left Sam's lips, she thought about Joey being in the next room from them. She hoped that he would at the very least keep his distance from them, but she also hoped that she could have a moment with him. If there was one thing she couldn't stop think about, it was the fact that he had woken up in a new year with a bad hangover. She was supposed to keep him away from that.
The snow had continuously fallen over upstate New York and in its wake it left behind a thick pearly blanket, as pure white as the full moon itself when it poked its head out from behind the clouds at night. The clouds meanwhile had spread over the afternoon sun and Sam and Belinda found themselves surrounded by a sheer wonderland: the trees drooped a bit from the heavy weight of the fresh snow so they resembled to the drawings one would find in an animation book. Indeed, Sam got to thinking about expanding her art more into the more natural side of things: they were often out in the wilderness, and she could see herself and Belinda going out there even more for most of that quarter. She may as well take her pencils, graphite and colored, and go forth into a trail she had not yet found, and with Anthrax and Testament on either side of her in the mean time.
She peered down at her waist for a moment: she had lost a little weight over the Christmas break but she knew those new gentle curves were there to stay. She couldn't help but think of Joey and that little encounter they had had in his apartment a couple of months before. Even though he wanted to stop those habits, she could see it in his eyes. He wanted more from her, but she couldn't bring herself to it with him.
âSo what do you reckon we could cover upon on these more advanced drawing classes?â she asked Belinda when they spotted the signs for Ithaca in time.
âNo ideaâit's kind of new to me, too, so it's anyone's guess. I'm thinking more technique and expanding more on your styles.â
âGood, 'causeââ Sam stopped as she searched for the right words for herself. ââI'm kind of itching to do more with my art. I feel like I have to expand on it.â
âWell, you got your styleâthat smooth, weirdly delicate, and real stark style that you can see from clear across the roomââ
âI have the technique downâsort of,â she confessed with a shrug of her shoulders. âIt'll be covered for this term. By the way, I still owe you forty bucks.â
âAgain, take your time. Did you bring your art stuff with you?â
âWell, yeahâyou and I are both art students, we might as well bring our stuff with us.â
Soon they rolled into Ithaca, and the sight of the big glassy black waters of Finger Lakes penetrated the blanket of white snow all around them. At one point, Aurora had described the studio of choice as âa hole in the wallâ, given it stood off to the side in the heart of those tall trees.
When she opened the door for Sam and Belinda, she had put a handmade sign on the front panel for them to see.
âWelcome to the hole in the wall,â she read aloud.
âIt's 'Over the Wall', Aurora,â Eric called from the back of the room. âWe've got a song called 'Over the Wall'.â
âIt still makes sense,â Sam pointed out as she and Belinda made their way inside. Off to the left side was a small row of chairs: she recognized the slim black haired woman in the one closest to them, even with a heavy puffy jacket in lieu of her drum sticks.
âHey, Zelda!â Sam greeted her. âWhat brings you here?â
âI wanted to know what was all the hubbub over here,â she confessed as she adjusted the hood on her jacket, and then she reached down to smooth out the wrinkles in her dark flannel pants. âI literally just got here, too.â Louie stepped into the room right then with his gloves already on his hands. He halted right in his tracks and watched her with his eyebrows raised up.
âHi,â Zelda greeted him in a soft voice.
âHiâhow are you?â Louie asked her, also in a soft voice.
âI'm doing wellâabout to fly out to California to talk to Zetro about something. What's all this here?â
âNew album, finally. Think we might make some videos for ourselves, too.â
âCool, cool.â
âHow're your girls doing?â
âWe just got back from a leg of a tour with Metallica.â
âAwesome!â Louie strode over to her and gave her a high five.
âYeahâyeah! It was unreal, Lou. And it couldn't have come at a better time for us, either. I thought we were done and then Aurora swooped in with a second chance and she saved our asses.â
Aurora then returned to the room with the clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. The five of them congregated right before them like a small group of school boys.
âOkay, so final line up for Testament, originally Legacy is Chuck Billy on vocalsââ
âAqui.â Chuck himself shook his dark hair about, one side of which was spread right across his face and made him appear much more Indian than Sam had known, and a bit more than Joey, a half Iroquois man. She wondered which tribe he was a part of as Aurora kept at it with the roll call.
ââEric Peterson and Alex Skolnick on guitarsââ
âRight here,â Eric replied, to which Alex made a pretty little wave with two fingers.
ââGreg Christian on bassââ
âHi!â Greg himself almost stumbled forward at the sound of his own name.
ââand Louie Clemente, not Mike Ronchette, on drums.â
âYes'm.â Louie put his hands behind his back, and Zelda set one elbow up on the back of her chair.
âI dunno why they kept telling me it was Mike, but I kept saying, 'no, it's Louie. It's Louie Louie!'â That brought a laugh out of all of them. âAnyways, I'm Aurora Young, here with my assistant Samantha Shelley, who's also a fan club member, along with Belinda Grimes and Zelda Carmichael, the latter of whom is with Rhode Island hardcore band Cherry Suicides. Sam and I are with the labelâthe producer himself should be coming here literally any minute now.â
âAnd the two of us have been sworn to secrecy,â Zelda added.
âAnd Zelda and Bel have been sworn to secrecy to not tell anyone about this new album whatsoever. Friends of the band are always sworn to secrecy. Alright, gentlemen! Get in your positions in the room here and we'll get started.â
Before they could head inside of the sound proof room, Sam tapped on Chuck's shoulder.
âI keep meaning to ask you this, tooâwhat Native American tribe are you?â
âI'm Pomo. Buncha basket weavers all along the coast in Nor Cal. The other side of me is Mexican.â
âHence the 'Sammich' reference,â she followed along with a nod of her head.
âRight, exactly! Native American like Joey.â
âHe's Iroquois, right?â
âThat's actually close to being right,â he clarified. âIroquois is the nationâI think he's either Onondaga or Cayuga, actually.â
âOh, I see. So even he doesn't really know.â
âI think so,â Chuck confessed with a light toss of his fine dark hair. âBut, still. You've got two Native American singers walking on either side of you, dear li'l Sammich.â
That brought a light chuckle out of her and then Eric called him into the sound proof room. Sam watched him go inside there with the four of them, and all she could think about right then was Joey himself. They were going to be another room there in the hole in the wall and she hoped that he would stay with them in there.
Aurora guided her, Belinda, and Zelda to the vast sound board, which was right underneath a wide pane of glass. Louie took his seat behind his drum kit and Greg sat right next to him with a big black bass guitar cradled on his lap: his dark hair spread down on one side of his face as he plucked those big heavy strings for a little bit. Alex and Eric took their seats on stools right behind him, and Chuck stood before a microphone on the far right side there. A bare, wide open room that needed to be separated off from itself so they could clearly record themselves without bleeding of any sort.
âOh, man, I'm getting so many flashbacks to Stormtroopers right now,â Sam told Belinda. âExcept they did that in like a kitchen. Charlie was crammed back into a corner and Scott and Danny were right in front of him, and Billy just kinda sat there with the microphone in hand, and they recorded off an old disc player.â
âHey, Aurora, you want us to jam for a bit?â Chuck asked her through the microphone.
âYeah, go ahead!â
âSee how we play off of each other in hereââ
Louie tapped his drum sticks together three times and he came down on his snare. He led the way for Greg, Eric, and Alex, the latter of whom had put on a pair of matte black headphones and they pushed down his bangs a bit more so they hid his eyes from view. Even with the door closed, the wall of sound could not be contained in there.
âJesus,â Zelda muttered as she tucked her hands into her coat pockets. âAnd I thought Metallica were really powerful.â
Chuck held onto his headphones and bowed his head a bit. He awaited his cue. And then his voice seared through the sound proof wall, such that it caught all four girls off guard.
âOh my god,â Belinda blurted out. He pinched his eyes shut as he shrieked out the vocals: Sam thought Zetro had powerful vocals, but Chuck's were more melodic, but not nearly as melodic as Joey's voice. The perfect balance between the two mediums.
Meanwhile, Louie kept things tight behind his kit, even though his dark hair flew about like the arms of an octopus and his drums sounded like a blacksmith hammer.
Alex moved around a little bit with that white guitar nestled up close to his little body. He couldn't move much because of that big set of headphones and the amps close to him, but Sam could sense that he wanted to move around.
âSo much metal that that room simply can't contain it!â Sam joked, but both she and Belinda jumped back again when all five of them yelled out âOVER THE WALL!â at one point. Chuck brought one hand to the side of his head and he still kept his eyes pinched shut. One man had enough power in his voice to bleed through those walls around him. Right over the wall.
âJesusâChrist,â Zelda stammered.
âSome day, they'll have to show you guys the raw tape tracks for Bonded by BloodâExodus' album with Zetro,â Aurora told them, completely unfazed by what was going on before her.
âOVER THE WALL!â
Louie and Greg had such a loud bark when they yelled out together. But there was Alex, still with his head bowed down over his guitar. All five of them worked together and yet they were so separate to one another.
The whole entire time, Sam thought about Metallica and she knew they were supposed to leave for their final stint of their tour soon, if they hadn't already. She thought about Jason and if he was doing alright on those brand new dates and in front of all of those large crowds. She had no idea if they had gone off to Europe yet, and if they did, she wondered how Lars was taking it. Those three men needed each other and they needed to play off of each other much like the five of them before her right there.
Alex soon stood to his feet with the white guitar pressed up against his slender little body. That jet black hair shone under the soft ceiling light of the sound proof room: Sam couldn't but see a faint sheen on the right side of his bangs that seemed extra light in comparison to the rest of his hair.
He nodded his head about so some of his hair fanned out from the back. Eric paid no attention to him in the mean time: he followed Greg and Louie's lead.
But Alex stepped forward for his solo, and Chuck backed off to let the boy in.
Louder and much more clear than the first time she had heard him live. His fingers crawled about the fret board like the legs of a spider. If Sam didn't know better, she swore he was summoning a small group of king cobras from the shadows behind him. He did it so effortlessly, as if the guitar was just another part of his body.
âWow,â Belinda breathed out, and it took a few seconds for Sam to realize that she had been holding her breath the whole entire time. She let out a long low whistle, and she kept her gaze fixated on him.
âJust incredible,â Zelda remarked from right behind her.
âHe makes it look so easy!â Aurora added with glee.
âI know, right?â Zelda chuckled, but Sam was silent, and she was silent long enough to overlook the clinkers he had made. Indeed, when he let go of the frets and shook his hand about as if he had been burned, she still kept her gaze fixed onto him.
âYou okay, Alex?â Chuck called out to him over Eric, Greg, and Louie, all three of whom were still pulling along.
âYeahâlittle too much mustard on that hot dog, though,â he assured him as he shook his hand about again. Chuck laughed and then he proceeded to sing again.
Sam rubbed her eyes and she turned to Belinda, whose face had lit up at the sight before her.
âHe's amazing!â she declared.
âHe's in a league of his own,â Sam told her.
Indeed, they were there in the hole in the wall all day long: their producer, who was also named Alex, had showed up in time so they could record the first tracks of the new album. It was much longer and far more tenuous than Sam had originally imagined: Louie had to go up first with the drum tracks and given the room was too warm, they had to shut off the heater and open all the doors so all of the warm air escaped. The four girls congregated in the front of the room, nestled down in their coats, right next to Eric and Greg, both of whom had comic books in hand.
âI gonna assume you guys got those from Charlie,â Sam quipped; she remembered what she and Marla had said in that it was another art form.
âNah, but we're all nerds, though,â Eric assured her as he plunked open the book and lay it over his lap.
âWe're going to Alcatraz, anyways,â Greg pointed out.
â...why?â Sam raised her eyebrows at that, and she tried to stifle back a bit of laughter from that.
âFilm a video. Probably for that first song you girls heard, 'Over the Wall'. Not sure yet.â
Louie's kick drum pounded away in the room before them and it was all Sam could hear from behind the wall: she swore he would blow a hole through it at one point with that kick drum alone. He was tight and strong like a machine and yet he made such a big wall of chaos. How one guy could make so much racket was beyond her. But there in that front room, they were like a bunch of kids hanging out together, with Eric and Greg and their comic books, and Zelda and Belinda seated next to them with glances over their shoulders; even though they had brought their art supplies with them, Sam still kept her eye on Belinda and her reading a comic book. She could assume it was for inspiration.
Meanwhile, Sam shivered under her jacket and she wondered where Alex had run off to in there.
âWe're getting another new band in here soon,â Aurora announced to them. âGuns 'N Rosesâthey're from California, too!â
âThink I've heard of them,â Eric recalled. âMainly the Los Angeles area, but I do remember seeing 'em in this dingy little place on the strip called Whisky A Go-Go. Real cool hard rock that's not quite like the big teased up hair that's absolutely everywhere right now, especially out that way. We oughta see them soon, if and when they go on tour themselves.â
Sam rubbed her upper arms to better keep the warmth inside of her, but it was useless. No warmth to felt anywhere.
âI'm gonna take a walk, you guys,â she declared at one point.
âI think Chuck and Alex did, too,â Eric told her as he turned the page of his book.
âI was wondering where those two dudes ran off to,â Belinda quipped, and then she set a hand on his shoulder. âNo, wait, I wasn't done with that yetââ
Sam lifted the lapels of her coat and tugged the hood over her head, even though the snow had long stopped. She kept her hands by the lapels as she made her way to the street. A tap on her shoulder, and she turned to the side.
âJoey!â
âHey, you!â he greeted her with a smile on his face. âHad a feeling that was you.â
âWhat're you doing here? Besides, the obvious. You guys are recording.â
âOh, y'knowâI was just thinkin' 'bout you. And I was also hopin' that you'd be out here with us, too.â
âYeah, I'm actually out here with Belinda, and Aurora, and Zelda, too. All five of us girls are out here except Marla.â
âYeah, I guess Marla's kinda swamped at the moment,â he admitted with a shrug. âYou want to grab some coffee?â
âOh, yes, please. I'm trying to keep myself warm.â
âCan't get warm, can ya?â he asked her, still with that grin on his face and that twinkle in his eye. She almost corrected him, but then she stopped herself.
âNo, I can't. Get warm and get together with someone else.â
âCome with me,â he coaxed her, and they doubled back down the street to that one place that Stormtroopers had played on their tour almost two years ago. He shuddered inside of his coat as well, but she rounded to his side so they walked next to each other. She wondered where Chuck and Alex had gone off to there in Ithaca: it wasn't that large of a town, and thus they couldn't have gotten very far from there. She peered down at his waist, still slim and delicate despite the fair of amount of drinking she had witnessed from him. For all she knew, he only drank when they were together and not when he was alone. Maybe he did, but he never smelled of alcohol when she and him came together.
âSo how bad was your hangover?â she asked him as they reached the crosswalk.
âOn New Year's Day?â
âYeah.â
âPretty bad. I couldn't hardly keep my eyes open at one point. But you know, it's one of those things that you ride out and flush out as best as you can, and just heal from that point onward.â She flashed back to when Alex had a bit of acid in the back of their van. She knew that was exactly what he did when he returned home.
âWell, JosephâI have to hand it to you for taking it in stride,â she told him as they strode across the black pavement. âJust promise me that'll be the last time you'll do it, because I'm starting to worry about you a little bit.â
âI know you do, Sam. It's mainly why I want to stop.â
And it was right then that her thoughts couldn't hardly keep up with her mouth. All the fears she had developed out of Cliff's wake now made their way over to Joey. âWell, I worry about you drinking too much before a show one night and your voice is royally fucked. Or I worry about the worst thing ever.â
âIt killing me, I assume,â he said, nonchalant.
âHaving it kill you, right. I lost my boyfriend while on tourâI don't want to lose any of my best friends in Anthrax while they're out on tour, whether it's you, or Frankie, or Charlie, or Scott, or Danny.â
He sighed through his nose and he set his hand on her upper back. The very touch of his hand brought the tears right into her eyes once again. She had no other way of expressing it to him than with her hand by her mouth to keep them back.
âC'monâI'll start this off with a cup of coffee,â he said to her in a soft voice, and he guided her inside that warm room. Chuck and Alex were nowhere to be seen, much to both her relief and her disappointment. They took a seat there at the far end of the counter and he asked for two cups of coffee. Sam tried to lean back and take her hood off at the same time, but she leaned into the wall behind her. Such a cozy corner of the room: she gazed across the floor to the opposite side, where Charlie had set up his drums for Stormtroopers in the two summers before, and she realized that a slight noise barrier formed right there in that little nook. Whoever sat there for that show as well as the ones for the Plasmatics and Motorhead must not have heard much that night.
Within time, they received their big white mugs of rich fresh coffee, and Joey was eager to pick up his and bring it close to him.
âWe're in aâa hole in the wall,â he sputtered.
âJust so long as you're not drinking,â she pointed out.
âI won't. I can't drink much anywayâafter that morning of New Year's, and I woke up hungover, I thought, 'there's no way I can do that again.' Soââ He raised that white mug up to her. ââhere I am.â
He took a big swig of the coffee, such that it relaxed her. He closed his eyes, probably to better relish in that beany flavor.
âThere it is,â he said in a low voice.
âHappy New Year, Joey,â she told him as she raised her mug to him.
âHappy New Year, Sam I am.â
âBy the way, what Indian tribe are you exactly? I know you've said Iroquois before but I recently learned that it's such a wide range of tribes that it's hard to pin down.â She gingerly chose her words for him.
âOh, I have no idea, to be honest. All I know is my mom's heritage comes from the Iroquois Nation here in upstate New York. Hence why my nickname is usually 'Injun Joe.' It's obvious I'm Native Americanâjust what specifically is another question entirely.â
â'Injun Joe'... remember when we were at the hockey rink and you made a joke about wearing a headdress for a show in the future?â
âStill plan on it,â he said without hesitation.
âYes!â She clinched her fist and then she reached her mug over to him for an official toast between them.
âTo a new era, Sam,â he declared. âA new era of Anthrax and the world of thrash metal, and a new era of you and me.â
#fanfic#fanfiction#chapter 39#fever in fever out#fever in fever out fanfic#deadly nightshade#book two#testament fanfic#testament band#testament#anthrax#chuck billy#eric peterson#alex skolnick#greg christian#louie clemente#joey belladonna#oc tag#writing#also on ao3#also on wattpad#text
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Catharsis [Local Musician!Calum] One Shot
CatharsisâThe purging or release of emotional tensions, especially through kinds of art or music.
A/N: this is 19.3k of local musician!Calum and i hope you guys enjoy it! i loved writing this, bc itâs, in my opinion, softer than most of what iâve written. also, the lovely moodboard is by my even lovelier friend @softforcal!!! happy reading, babies
There was a local artist in Annetteâs favorite cafe, a musician, whoâd captured her attention from the first strum of his guitar and the captivating voice he sang with the second she heard him. Blueâs was known for its dedication to giving the local talent a platform, paying them to sing for customers if they had what it took. And this guy, this brown haired, tattooed singer who alternated between performing covers and originals, had captured the hearts of all of the regularsâAnnette included. It was because of him that sheâd sometimes be late to work or classes if he happened to be playing, completely enraptured by his performance and his smooth rasp sounding over the dull chatter of customers. Not that anyone really talked over the sound of himâCalum Hood was just too captivating to ignore.
Annette was never sure what exactly it was that had her stopping in her tracks every time she heard him singâif it was the deep lilt of his voice that managed to carry every note he meant to hit, or if it was the lyrics he sang when he introduced a song he wrote himself. Songs about love, loss, healing, and everything in between that hit a little too close to home every time. HonestlyâAnnette began giving more thought to what Calum must have gone through to be able to write such deeply personal songs that seemed to resonate with everyone than she did to the coursework she should have been focusing on. Â
Maybe she was being creepy. Maybe she shouldâve stopped lingering in the back of the cafe after she got her order of either a strawberry iced tea or just coffee to lean against the wall and watch Calum strum a guitar and singâher personal favorites were original songs heâd written like Never Be, Everything I Didnât Say, The Girl Who Cried Wolf, and Moving Along and his covers of Stay by Post Malone and Blink-182âs I Miss Youâand just moseyed on along to go to class or her shift at the store instead of looking like some stalker. But Annette couldnât help itâshe was a fan. Granted, she was no expert in the music industry, but Annette liked what she listened to, and there was no doubt in her mind that Calum was insanely talented. She knew everyone who came to Blueâs who was lucky enough to witness him perform, and the management that loved the patrons he was drawing in, would think the same thing.
There were often moments where she wished she grew the confidence in saying something to himâjust a mere compliment of how good he was or something. It wasnât like he was a world known musician, maybe a kind comment from a stranger wouldâve made him smile, at the very least. But there was something about Calum that made him appear like the rockstar that he was probably meant to be. With his unruly dark curls, domineering height, tattooed skin, and sharp eyes that took in every face in the crowd, not to mention the overwhelming artistry that seemed to just ooze out of his pores, Calum Hood was a stature Annette wasnât entirely sure she was prepared to approach. Sure, sheâd seen people compliment him after he got off the stage with his guitar being gripped by ring clad fingers, had gotten glimpses of almost reserved smiles she felt were too quiet for someone who owned such loud talent, but she knew she wasnât ready to actually face him herself.
So she listened and admired from afar, even though she desperately yearned to do so much more.
âYou look like you got an hourâs worth of sleep last night.â Annette huffed as she shot Luke a look, settling down in her seat once he took his backpack off and dropped it on the floor so she could sit. Apparently a few days into the semester and some students thought it was okay to steal her unofficial-official seat.
Annette leaned back against the chair once she had her laptop in front of her and had taken off her favorite red framed and lensed sunglasses and Beats, letting out a drawn out sigh that carried the weight of her exhaustion. âBecause I think I did,â she responded tiredly, the silvery tone she normally spoke in coming out as a heavy drawl. âWork didnât let out until ten and I had a paper due at midnight and then Poe got sick andââ Annette cut herself off with a complaining groan, though she kept the sound quiet as people filtered into the classroom, sinking into her chair. âIâm ready to drop dead, honestly.â
âAt least itâs the weekend, right?â Luke responded with an encouraging raise of his eyebrows, knowing Annette only worked the weekdays as he tapped his fingers against the sleek top of the desk. When she crossed her arms over her chest, closing her eyes and nodding, Luke offered a smile. âCouple of my friends are throwing a party in the East Village tonight. Bring whoever you want, yeah? Itâll be fun.â
Opening her eyes, Annette looked at her blue eyed friend, smiling at his offer as she modestly replied, âI wouldnât wanna intrudeââ
Luke snorted out a laugh, shooting her a look as their professor entered the room. âYouâre not intruding if Iâm inviting you. Itâll be greatâthereâs a karaoke machine.â
At that, the tattooed girl sputtered with her eyebrows shooting up as she instantly shook her head. âI donât sing.â
He rolled his eyes, lifting his hands to gather up his blonde curls and pull them back into a bun, the too hot temperature in the classroom making even his barely shoulder length hair impossible to not tie back. âThen you can watch the rest of us act like idiots.â Raising his eyebrows he asked, âYou in?â
Annette thought about it for a moment; she had planned to curl up in bed with Poe at her side and her laptop on so she could get some writing done, having barely any time for it with work and classes already kicking her ass. But, honestly, she wasnât entirely inspired or motivated to actually sit and bust out a few words; maybe a party and being around people would help with that. She was always looking for new inspiration to hit, so maybe this would be good. Sheâd been in a bit of a rut lately, always ending up staring at a blank page or not knowing how to continue with what she already had. It was starting to get frustrating; stepping away sounded like the way to go.
So she smiled at Luke and nodded, âIâm in,â before sending a quick text to her roommate-slash-cousin Colin to recruit him for tonight. If anyone was willing to accompany her to a party, it was him.
When Annette reached for her plastic cup of strawberry iced tea, sipping the drink through the straw, Lukeâs eyes dropped to the cup before humming, âI love Blueâs. Theyâve got some great talent.â
She grinned, eyes dropping to the cup that said the restaurantâs name in script and the color of its namesake, as she played with the clear straw. Calumâs face flashed through her mind, the sound of his voice singing through her ears as she responded in absent thought, âI know.â
As the class settled, Luke propped his elbow on his desk and leaned his cheek against his palm, quirking his eyebrow as he asked, âYouâve got a favorite?â
Annette bit the inside of her lower lip as their professor pulled up the PowerPoint for todayâs lecture. Oh, she definitely did have a favorite.
*****
âHey, come inside for a sec.â Lukeâs voice pulled Annette from her conversation with his friend Ashton, his friend Michaelâs girlfriend Crystal, and Colin. The four of them were on the balcony of Ashtonâs apartment, a few other people lingering about as the music playing from inside flowed outside to where they stood. Annette had only gotten to the party about twenty minutes ago, and had already met most of Lukeâs friends, including his girlfriend Sierra, and so far she was enjoying herself as a refreshing September breeze tickled her skin. And she was enjoying the tequila, too. She looked at Luke, who was in the doorway of the balcony with a drink in his hand. His eyes met Annetteâs as he added, âThereâs someone I want you to meet.â
âUh, yeah, sure,â Annette responded slowly, unsurely, as she excused herself from the little group she was among. She walked towards Luke, who stepped back into the apartment to let her inside as she held her half empty glass of a margarita, raising an eyebrow at her tall friend. âWhoâre we meeting?â
âA good friend of mine,â Luke smiled as they maneuvered their way through the living room, heading towards the kitchen. There were many people around, not as suffocating as a bustling house party that Annette was used to as everyone enjoyed each otherâs company, danced to the music that was playing, though not entirely resembling a rambunctious frat house. Annette liked this better. Shooting her a dazzling, dimpled grin, Luke added reassuringly, âYouâll love him.â
Her curious expression never washed away as she nodded along, letting him lead her towards the kitchen. They stepped up towards the center island, which was decorated with a nice spread of cups and bottles of various kinds of alcohols and mixers, and stopped in front of a guy with his back turned towards them as he fixed himself a drink. His broad leather jacket covered back hindered Annette from seeing what he was making, glancing at Luke who smiled.
âThis is CalumâCal, this is my friend, Annette,â the blonde introduced, gesturing between the two people, and upon hearing his name, the man in front of them turned around, but it was long before Annette saw his face that she realized who he was. Right when Luke had said his name, realization clicked in Annetteâs mind as she recognized the back of the guyâs head of short curls, now that he had been named.
Brown eyes met Annetteâs bluish-brown and suddenly she found her heart in her throat because sheâd never been this close to him before. Never had she been given the opportunity to look at his dark eyes, always standing at the other side of the cafe to merely listen and watch him play. But it was no surprise that the brown of his eyes, so dark that they almost melted into the pupil, was just as bewitching as the sound of his voice as she felt her throat dry when she looked into them. Annette had known Calum was tall as he towered in front of her, though his height was not entirely as domineering as Lukeâsâshe doubted anyoneâs wasâyet still she felt small in his presence.
Whoever invented the phrase tall, dark and handsome probably pictured Calum in mind.
His lips quirked up, a polite smile lifting his cheeks as he gazed at her. Annette could feel her body flush even though he wasnât even doing anything. âNice to meet you,â Calum spoke, his familiar voice just as smooth without a microphone amplifying the hint of a rasp in which he spoke with. Heâd been lifting his cup as he spoke, taking a sip once he was finished and Annette noticed how his eyebrows furrowed subtly as he continued to look at her. Lowering his cup, lips glistening from his drink, Calum thoughtfully remarked, âI think Iâve seen you âround before.â
Oh, her heart had found residency in her throat. He recognized her, and no matter how vague his recollection may be, the mere acknowledgment that she was a familiar face to him was exciting. Annette wasnât entirely sure if it was because she was pathetically enamored with a guy who wasnât even a celebrity, though he felt like one to her, or if it was because of how ridiculously attractive he was. Maybe because he was just so talented and actually being able to speak to him was ridiculous to her. Maybe it was all of it.
âUh, at Blueâs, maybe?â Annette offered, pretending as though she had no idea where he couldâve possibly seen her before, knowing full well thatâs exactly where. The way Calum blinked in realization was too adorable.
âAnnetteâs seen a bunch of your performances, dude,â Luke chimed in, a knowing tone lilting the smile in his voice and it wasnât until Annette glanced at him, saw the glint in his blue eyes, did it click in her mind what he was doing. She couldnât even help the way her eyes narrowed at him, though Luke was smart enough to keep his gaze purposefully locked on Calum.
Still, the need for damage control was prominent, and as Annette forced herself to drag her glare away from Luke and wipe it off by the time her eyes met Calumâs, she managed to say, âJust a few.â Nobody had to know she was downplaying the fact that she watched as many of his performances as she could. Coming off as a stalker wasnât the kind of first impression Annette wanted to give offânot that she even knew thereâd be an impression to give off in the first place. Damn it, Luke. Was he trying to embarrass her? Free hand nervously sliding into the back pocket of her shorts, Annette found herself adding truthfully, âYouâre really good.â
Calum nodded, the smallest of smiles upturning his pressed together lips, and Annette couldnât help but feeling as though he was forcing himself to do so. Like he appreciated the compliment, but it also didnât mean much to him. âAppreciate it,â he responded, because he had to, because it was etiquette, and Annette felt something uncomfortable stir in the pit of her stomach. Uncomfortable, embarrassed, and, frankly, affronted. Though she wasnât too sure she had the right to feel that last one. Calumâs eyes shifted over her head, looking at something behind her as he raised unexpressed eyebrows and his cup as well, using a finger to point at something as he added quickly, âExcuse me, thereâsâIâm being called over.â
He walked around her and while Annette knew that it was probably nothing personal against herâthey didnât know each other for it to beâshe still felt her skin flush with an embarrassed and mildly offended heat of being brushed off like that. Her lips pressed together, staring at the spot Calum had stood in, wondering if she was even allowed to feel this way because Calum was only someone she enjoyed listening to at Blueâs. He didnât owe her a conversation or anything. Yet the offense of his less than polite behavior, no matter how brief the interaction, still had her stomach twisting uncomfortably. And then it would cycle into her reprimanding herself for being so sensitive.
Fuck. Why couldnât she just figure out and agree on what she was feeling?
âShitâSorry about him.â Lukeâs apology pulled Annette out of her thoughts, and she looked up at the friend sheâd only recently made to see Luke frowning over in whatever direction Calum had walked off in. He looked down at her blue eyes meeting her slightly darker ones, the disappointment clear in his irises as he let out a breath. âHeâs normally not like that, I swear. I donât know whatâs up with him.â
Annette gave a dismissive shake of her head, offering Luke what she hoped came off as a reassuring smile. Because she had a feeling Luke knew exactly what was going on with his friend, but he didnât owe her an explanation. Just like Calum didnât owe her a conversation; maybe Annette was just being overly sensitive for no reason. âNever meet your heroes, huh?â she said jokingly, and she half meant it. Calum wasnât her heroâthat just sounded ridiculous and overdramatic. He was just some guy who played at her local cafe, thatâs all. Still, this wasnât how sheâd imagined their first meeting to goânot that she really thought sheâd actually get the chance to talk to him. Â
Luke let out an airy chuckle, and Annette could tell he felt just as miffed and even slightly embarrassed about that brief interaction as she did. But it was whatever. Not a big deal. âCome on, let me get you a refill,â Luke said after glancing at her nearly finished drink, and she grasped onto that change of topic with both hands and stepped towards the countertop full of drinks.
As he made Annette her drink of choice of a Malibu, she noted the purse of his lips and a small smile quirked at her lips. âItâs not a big deal, Luke,â she told him truthfully. Sure, Calum basically walking away wasnât what sheâd thought would happen, but what could you do? Annette wasnât one to hold grudges or hold onto any negative emotions for too long. Life was too short to be bothered by something for too long.
Luke glanced at her from where he stood on the other side of the counter, a whole head and a half taller than the girl next to him making her own drink, and shot Annette a small smile. âSo much for first impressions, huh?â
*****
âOh, thereâs Annette.â Calum glanced up from his laptop from where he was doing his composition homework, gaze landing on Luke sitting across from him at their table in Blueâs. But his blonde friend was looking off to his right and Calum followed his gaze, eyes landing on the mention girl.
She stood on line to order, her red Beats deafening her to the world around her as she kept herself busy on her phone. For a moment, Calum found himself wondering how heâd never seen her around before; she was gorgeous, with thick blonde hair that curled at the bottom, a couple of tattoos inking the skin of her left arm, and a smile heâd gotten to see the other night at Ashtonâs party before heâd abruptly left the conversation. Something Luke had reprimanded him on after the fact.
Calum watched her as she took a step forward on the line, adjusting her headphones before returning her attention to her phone. He looked away as well, brown eyes meeting Lukeâs blue ones, blinking at the expectant expression on his friendâs face. âI think you should apologize to her.â
Eyebrows scrunching upwards, Calum scoffed as he leaned back in his seat and asked, âWhat for?â
Luke shot him a pointed look, aware that he didnât have to answer that question because Calum knew the answer. His interaction with Annette had been quite brief all because Calum hadnât really wanted to engage in a conversation. It hadnât been anything personal against her; Calum had just wanted to stick to those he knew, be around his friends who already knew him well enough to know if he acted cold, it wasnât their fault. It was just the mood he was in. That day hadnât been the best, and after Luke introduced him to Annette, Calum had spent the rest of the party escaped up onto the roof, with the only thing keeping him company being his cigarettes.
âListen, man,â Luke spoke up before Calum could say anything, letting out a sigh and crossing his arms on the table. He looked at him with an almost hopeful expression. âI wouldnât care if it was anyone else, but Annetteâs my friend, alright? And when she told me you were her, like, favorite musician here I thought itâd be cool if you two met. So when you brushed her off it justâit didnât leave a good impression, you know?â
Pursing his lips, Calum took a breath at Lukeâs words. The knowledge of him being someone Annette genuinely enjoyed listening to actually did make him feel like a bit of an asshole for the way heâd just walked away from her. Though, to be fair, if heâd stuck around then their interaction may have gone worse.
Just wrong timing, Calum figured. He always appreciated when people at Blueâs, or anyone really, told him they enjoyed listening to him perform. It gave him the push to continue on doing so, to come to Blueâs whenever he could and get up on the small stage and sing his songs and covers for the patrons. Calum figured heâd probably still do it if he wasnât getting paid; the money was just a bonus on top of the positive feedback he received.
Yeah. He was kind of a jerk for brushing off someone whoâd done nothing except for compliment him.
With Lukeâs gaze burning into him, Calum let out a heavy breath of, âFor fuckâs sake,â before pushing back his chair and standing up. He ignored the happy smile on Lukeâs face as he made his way around the spread out tables, figuring the sooner he apologized to Annette, the sooner Luke would get off his back.
He got to where Annette was standing just as it was her turn to order, and Calum worked quickly as he pulled out his wallet and just as the cashier, Rick, told Annette the total, Calum announced his presence by offering his card and saying, âItâs on me.â
Annette blinked at him, startled, too surprised to object at the sudden offer as Rick, obviously knowing who Calum was, took the card and completed the transaction. Once Calumâs card was returned, he put it back in his wallet and shoved the leather accessory back in the pocket of his pants, gaze finally sliding over to Annette who was staring at him in bewilderment.
Her lips, pink and glossy, parted. âYouââ she began, only to cut herself off as she glanced over her shoulder and stepped to the side, Calum following suit, to let the next customer place their order. Calum followed Annette to stand at the end of the counter where her order would be placed, watching as she took her headphones off and let them hang around her neck as she looked up at him. âYou didnât have to do that.â
Calum shrugged, hands shoved into the pockets of his bomber jacket as he told her, âConsider it a peace offering. I hadnât given the best of impressions at the party.â
He watched as Annette rolled her lips into her mouth, tapping her nails against the back of her phone as she considered his words. Her gaze, then, went around Calumâs friend to look at something behind him, and he noted the subtle quirk at one corner of her mouth as she lifted her chain. âIs the peace offering your idea or Lukeâs?â
The musician pursed his lips, knowing she was valid in asking that question. What was more was that she didnât make it sound rude, just genuine curiosity as her gaze met Calumâs once more, the questioning clear in the way she raised an eyebrow. Pressing his lips together, Calum let out a quick breath through his nose before answering her truthfully, âIt was Lukeâs idea that I come over. The drink really is on me.â Realizing he hadnât actually done what Luke had asked for him, Calum added, âBut I am sorry for acting the way I did.â
To his surprise, Annette twisted her lips to the side before giving a shrug. âYou donât have to apologize, honestly, though I appreciate it. Itâs not a big dealâdefinitely not something to feel bad about.â
For a moment, Calum kept his gaze on her, eyes twitching ever so slightly to narrow as he considered Annette, trying to see if she genuinely meant her words or was just saying them to be nice. He wasnât going to lieâhe kind of agreed with her. It wasnât a big deal, and while he was sorry for dismissing her the way he had and while he couldâve been nicer, it was too short of an interaction for him to feel an immense amount of guilt for. Sure, their first meeting was only cut short because of Calum himself, but wasnât he allowed bad days? Heâd only come to the party because his best friend was throwing it, and it made Calum feel less like a loser to have the reason of wanting to have fun so he could drink, and he really hadnât been in the mood to meet new people and entertain them. What was so wrong about that?
Unlike Luke, Annetteâs answer seemed to be absolutely nothing.
Maybe he got lucky with such a forgiving person.
Before Calum could say anything, Rick had called out Annetteâs name and she received her iced coffee, turning to look at Calum with an appreciative smile as she held up the clear cup. âThanks for the caffeine.â Her smile was sweet and still Calum felt something uncomfortable twist his stomach as she added, âIâve got class. Iâll uh,â Annette paused, eyes darting before she looked at him once more, âsee you around.â
She gave a nod before stepping away, fixing her headphones with one hand as she turned around and walked to the door, ignoring the way Calumâs gaze burned into her back. The frown involuntarily pulled his eyebrows together once she left, feeling a bit unsatisfied over an interaction he hadnât really wanted to partake in the first place. He hadnât really wanted to apologize, but there had been a part of Calum that felt a bit badly about their initial meeting, so he listened to Luke and now. . . It kind of felt as though Annette didnât really care enough.
The tables seemed to have turned and it was unsettling.
*****
âThis is a cute idea,â Annette hummed as she entered Blueâs after Sierra, Colin and Luke right behind them. Sheâd never come to the cafe during the nighttime, eyes taking in the place that looked transformed, unfamiliar than to what it looked like during the day. There were blue string lights lining the edges where the walls and ceiling met, providing the only light in the cafe save for the white spotlights on the stage. It was more crowded than normal, a pleasant buzz of chatter in the air as well as the occasional whir of the blender behind the counter as the employees made the drinks on order.
Apparently Blueâs, along with paying local artists to perform at their cafe during the day, had a showcase kind of thing every other monthâwhich Annette had been oblivious to until Luke brought it up a few days back. Blueâs had all the artists they paid come together for one night every other month and perform for the patrons and would get paid extra, and sometimes there would be people who worked at record labels and scouts always looking for new talent in attendance, which Annette thought was pretty cool and a good opportunity for exposure.
âIâm surprised you havenât come to one of these before,â Luke said to her as they walked in, him standing taller than everyone else as his eyes darted around in hopes to find the friends they were here to meet.
Annette huffed, a bit miffed at her own ignorance of this kind of event. She loved watching all of the musicians Blueâs employed, so being able to watch them all in one night sounded so great and sheâd been missing out on it. Next to her, Colin snickered. âYouâd think being a groupie for all the performers youâd know about this.â
That invited a round of laughter from Luke and Sierra, and Annette made a protesting sound before elbowing her cousinâs side, though it didnât erase the all too amused smirk from his face. People around them moved, either talking to others or trying to find a table, and Sierra suddenly spoke up, âThere they are.â
She started moving, the rest of them following after her as she led them to a table where they spotted Calum, Ashton, Michael and their girlfriends. Theyâd joined two tables together, enough to fit all nine of them, and greetings were thrown about as the four of them reached the others. Annette settled down on the chair next to Ashton after he gave her a friendly side-hug as Luke spoke up, âYou ready, man?â
Annetteâs gaze drifted to Calum, who sat on one end of the table, furthest from her as he offered a nod. He looked at ease, comfortable in a black and white Elvis shirt with the neckline lined by his chain necklace, hands resting on his lap beneath the table. Unsurprisingly, he looked good, Annette instantly noticed; sheâd offered him a brief greeting when theyâd arrivedânothing against him, truthfully, but because she figured thatâs what heâd want.
When he apologized to her the other day, Annette knew it was Lukeâs doingâa fact sheâd flicked him off for the next time they had class together. To be fair, Calum had looked a bit miffed for his off-mood when theyâd met, and the more Annette had thought about it after, the more she realized she had no reason to actually be embarrassed or anything. People were allowed bad days, they were allowed to turn down conversations if they werenât feeling up for it, especially if it was with a stranger. It hadnât been the most pleasant of first meetings, but it wasnât something Annette couldnât get over. Sheâd learned, over the years, what things were worth lamenting over and what were small enough to let go. Her first meeting with Calum had been the latter.
Still, him coming up to her to apologize to her had been kind of unexpected. But then she figured out Luke had been the one to push Calum to do it, and while Calum hadnât delivered a half hearted apology, Annette could tell he wasnât a hundred percent keen on doing it. And, in some way, him being forced to talk to her a second time was more embarrassing than the first time. She kind of hated her ability to read people so clearly up close. If the action had an off switch, Annette would keep it taped.
So, naturally, when she joined the groupâafter Lukeâs inspired begging for her to come alongâsheâd greeted Calum with a quick and friendly smile before settling on the stool. No more forced interactions this time around.
âYeah,â Calum responded to Lukeâs question, leaning forward enough to prop his elbows up on the low table, linking his ring clad fingers in front of him, the metal of his chain bracelet hitting the wooden table as he rested his hands down. With a shrug and a small, brief smile he added, ââS not a big deal.â
It was a modest response, Annette noticed, which only reminded her of how comfortable Calum probably was on a stage, even a small one at some cafe chain in New York. Sheâd certainly witnessed his ease when she caught a performance, but to actually be within his company right before he went on stage was a side she never thought sheâd be privy to, and was taking in intently. In the presence of his friends, Annette could see the relaxation of Calumâs broad shoulders, dark eyes almost gentle as he listened to his friends chatter around him. He didnât look on edge like he had the night of the party, eyes darting and fingers around his cup tight; right now, it was easy to pick up on the air of calmness that surrounded Calum like a bubble.
âAre you performing anything new?â Michael questioned, sitting directly opposite of Annette.
Letting out a breath, Calum subtly raised an eyebrow as he responded, âIâd have to have something new written to perform it.â With a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, Calum added, âThink Iâm gonna go with San Francisco.â
Before she could help it, Annette chimed in, âThatâs a good one.â
She pressed her lips together after the comment slipped, though it was an honest one. Annette had heard Calum perform that song a while back, thought the lyrics and guitar and his voice were lovely when he played it, and the prospect of listening to it again was exciting. Except she hadnât really meant to make herself known, her words drawing Calumâs attention towards her as his brown eyes met her bluish ones, like he hadnât expected her to say anything, either. Annette fiddled with her thumbs under the table, forcing her closed mouth to lift into the smallest of smiles at Calum as a way of appeasing his intense stare.
But Calum offered a small smile, a real one, as he responded with a simple, âThanks.â
Soon enough, the small exhibition started, and Blueâs fell silent as the first performer of the night got up on stage. A couple of them were familiar faces for Annette, having seen them during the occasions where she came by and Calum wasnât playing, but there were also a few she hadnât ever seen before. Everyone was pretty good, had their own style and genre of music that they worked into the welcoming environment of Blueâs, and Annette found herself swaying gently to every personâs song or ballad.
And then it was Calumâs turn to go up, being introduced warmly and familiarly by the manager as a household name, and their tableâs cheers were the loudest as he picked up his guitar and headed towards the stage, returning Lukeâs fist bump as he made his way up. Annette shifted in her seat, as if physically preparing herself to listen to Calum perform a song sheâs heard before. She felt as though her eagerness and excitement was radiating off of her, the sensation familiar as it was what she experienced whenever she came to pick up some coffee before work or class and Calum was at Blueâs, right up on the stage like he was right now.
The entirety of Blueâs was dark, save for the blue lights for the ambiance, and the bright lights on Calum as he settled on the stool in front of the microphone, his sleek guitar on his lap. Annetteâs eyes were glued on him, much like everyone elseâs, but unlike the rest of them, she was taking in every detail her eyes would allow her to. She observed the way his tongue poked out to swipe his bottom lip, rolling it into his mouth as he made sure the microphone was leveled. The bright lights shone against his skin, glinting against the chains he wore, and Calum needed a second to adjust his eyes to the beams and Annette wondered if he could see the faces waiting for him as his gaze swept over in front of him.
With his left hand holding the neck of the guitar on his lap, Calum offered a close mouthed, humbled smile. âEveninâ, everyone,â he started, his voice amplified by the microphone as the deep and gentle rasp of his voice resounded. âIâm Calum and, uh, tonight Iâm gonna play an original called San Francisco.â Annette watched his right hand move into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a guitar pick as he offered another quick smile. âHope you like it.â
Calum started playing the chords to the song and Annette took in a quiet breath as the familiar tune reached her ears. Then Calum leaned towards the microphone, lips parting as he began singing lyrics that heâd written, and Annette wondered if she was the only one feeling goosebumps rise on her skin at the sound of his smooth, rich voice resounding around the cafe. Unlike the other times Annette has watched Calum perform at Blueâs, it was utterly silent as everyoneâs attention was on him as opposed to when he played during regular business hours and there was a quiet buzz of chatter.
Now, though, everyone was listening to him, their focus solely on him as his ring clad fingers effortlessly played the guitar, and Annette was completely entranced as she watched him, lips parting absently as she listened. The emotion Calum sang with made his performance all the more enchanting, and not for the first time did Annette wonder what experience Calum went through to write a song like thisâsomething she wondered every time she heard him perform an original song.
Annette was creative in her own right, could make up stories and characters and create a whole world out of them, but writing a song wasnât something she could be able to do. And she was always left in awe when she listened to the songs Calum chose to share, many of them about love and then losing that love, and it often ached Annetteâs heart when she listened to them. The pain he delicately and beautifully described in his songs was almost familiar to Annette, having faced loss in her life before, and she often found herself wishing Calum hadnât had to deal with something like that. Which was ridiculous, because she didnât know him, and life wasnât that simple. That didnât stop Annette from wishing it was.
Next to her, she could feel Ashton lightly drumming along to Calumâs song with his hands slapping against his thighs under the table, head subtly bopping to the music. Although she didnât want to take her eyes off of Calum, Annette still glanced around, took in the way everyone in the room was hooked on Calum and his music, and she felt a smile tug at her lips. She didnât know him, but she was proud.
*****
âWhat are you drinking?â
Annette looked up at Calum once she heard him, patiently waiting to get the bartenderâs attention, and he watched the way she blinked at him once before raising her eyebrows gently. Then, with a small smile, she asked, âAre you apologizing for something?â
Pressing the tip of his tongue to the back of his bottom teeth, Calum let out an airy chuckle, knowing she was referring to when he bought her that iced coffee as a way of making up for his behavior at the party. âNo,â Calum told her truthfully, left elbow resting against the bar top as he faced the shorter blonde girl. âJust, uh, tryinâ to be nice, I guess.â
Calum had no reason not to be nice to Annette, and since she was basically Lukeâs new best friend, Calum knew he couldnât be an asshole to her without reason. Sheâd never given him a reason to act the way he did, and she really was a nice girl from what he could tell. Calum had seen her during his performance earlier tonight, had seen the way her eyes seemed to be glued to her in unabashed awe, and it only made him further understand that she genuinely did enjoy his music.
Just because he was miserable more than half the time, didnât give him the right to treat others like that.
He saw her smile widen just a bit at her words, eyes flickering to the row of bottles behind the bar before telling Calum, âRum and Coke.â
Flagging the bartender down, Calum relayed her order and added in his own. They were at a bar a couple of blocks away from Blueâs, the group of them shifting over after the performances were over around ten at night. The weekend permitted them to go out, though Calum didnât plan on staying too late.
âSo be honest.â He dragged Annetteâs attention once more, and Calum could just barely see the hint of dark blue that lined the outer of her otherwise brown irises. In that moment, he absently decided she had the most interesting eyes heâd ever seen. âDid you think I was an asshole when we first met?â
âIâwhat?â The startled laugh that Annette released upon hearing Calumâs question wasnât entirely expected, her eyebrows shooting up as she leaned back a bit. But he kept looking at her, raising his own eyebrows to let her know that he was, frankly, asking a genuine question, because he wouldnât be surprised if she did. When Annette realized how serious he was, the smile on her face faltered a bit as she shook her head. âNo, I didnât. Thatâs justâthat would be an extreme reaction, Calum. Iâm not that sensitive.â
He bit the inside of his cheek, finger absently prodding at the bartop, nail scraping against a crack on it. âBut I did, like, make you feel bad, didnât I? To some extent?â
Annette looked at him, and Calum tried to remain neutral and unaffected by the subtle narrowing of her eyes as she took him apart with her gaze. She was trying to figure him out and Calum couldnât find it in himself to be annoyed because she was doing it so. . . Kindly. Her gaze was gentle, welcoming, like she didnât want to alarm him or put him off as she tried to figure him out. Calum wondered what kind of magical fucking powers Annette possessed to keep him feeling comfortable even as her mind picked him apart. Maybe it was the glittering of her eyes, or the soft way she looked at him. Because even with her thick blonde hair and long lashes and tattoos, she still reminded Calum of soft.
âAre you trying to make yourself feel guilty about it again?â Annette asked, and this time Calum did feel himself freeze at her words. Had it really been that easy for her to figure him out? Or was she just generally that good at reading people? She gazed up at him, earnest and true. âBecause I told you, Calum, it wasnât a big deal. It happened and itâs over. Honestlyâitâs not a big deal.â With an easy, light laugh, Annette added, âDonât make it seem like you, like, bitched me out or something. Itâs all good.â
She was terribly easy going, Calum realized, as the bartender handed them their drinks. Not the type to hold a grudge, it seemed.
Honestly, Calum wasnât entirely sure why he was bringing it up again, wasnât sure where the lingering guilt was coming fromâor if guilt was too strong of a word. Maybe he just still felt bad? Especially after he saw how much Annette seemed to enjoy his single song performance at Blueâs. Through the bright spotlights at the cafe, Calum had been able to make out the faces of his friends once his eyes had adjusted, and while their encouraging smiles had been expected and welcome, Calum had also took in the way Annette had been watching him.
It unexpectedly warmed him. He knew it wasnât the heat from the lights.
So, yeah. He suddenly found himself wanting to start a clean slate. Even if he started off thinking he didnât care.
It was something about her eyes. Calum was certain of it.
âCome on,â Annette cut through his thoughts, lifting up her glass with an easy going smile lifting her pink lips. âTo friends of friends.â
At that, Calum let out a quiet chuckle, quirking an eyebrow as the bar buzzed around them. The music was loud and people were chattering all over, but Calumâs eyes were on Annetteâs smiling ones. âThink we can cut the middle man out here,â he told her with a small smile of his own. Annette raised her eyebrows, soft smile ever present, as Calum raised his glass as well, clinking it with hers as he corrected, âTo being friends.â
*****
When Annette received her drink and turned around to head towards the door, she stopped when her eyes landed on the familiar face sitting at a table near the windows. It wasnât hard because Calum was already looking at her, laptop in front of him but gaze on her as he raised his hand in a single wave, and Annette felt a smile tug at her lips.
She made her way over to him, because now she could, now they were friends. Ever since the event here at Blueâs and their conversation at the bar after, a friendship had been established between the two of them, discarding their first meeting all together in hopes of moving forward. He leaned forward in his chair as she approached him, arms folded and a small smile tilted his lips once she got to him.
âFancy seeing you here,â Annette greeted with a teasing grin, standing beside the round table.
Calum chuckled quietly, lifting his hand and tilting his head to let his fingers mess up his slightly unruly curls. âYou headed to class?â he questioned, looking up at her with dark brown eyes that reminded Annette too much of chocolate.
âNo,â she responded with a shake of her head. âI just finished a shift, actually, and I needed my after-work caffeine.â
He quirked an eyebrow as he asked, âSo youâve got nowhere to be?â Her smile returned at the knowing tone of his voice, felt something pathetically flutter in the pit of her stomach as she hummed out a no with a shake of her head and he gestured to the empty seat across from him. As she settled down, Calumâs eyes took in her drink visible through the transparent cup, and he raised his eyebrows before letting out an amused scoff. âThatâs the. . . Froofiest drink Iâve ever seen.â
Annette let out a protesting, mock-insulted laugh as she defended, âHey, donât make fun of my drink.â She took a sip through the straw, watching Calum watch her with scrunched eyebrows raised and a bemused expression on his face. âItâs a passion iced tea. With blackberries.â
Calum, still, was not still not impressed. âItâs purple,â he deadpanned.
With a scoff, Annette said with a small pout, âDonât make fun of my froo-froo drink.â Jutting her chin at his cup, she narrowed her eyes challengingly and mocked, âWhat about you? Black coffee is boring.â
Calum wasnât offended or apologetic. âItâs normal. No froo-froo.â
Annetteâs smile returned, unable to keep the teasing lilt in her voice. âEveryone needs a little froo-froo in their life.â She couldnât hope to keep a serious expression on her face, the laughter bubbling past. Annetteâs chest tightened happily when she managed to get a laugh out of him in response. A breathy, raspy sound that was short yet did show his amusement with the conversation. She wondered what he sounded like when he laughed with everything in him.
Their conversation moved on as Calum asked her about work, the noise of the cafe melting into the background, breaking every so often when the barista at the counter called out a customerâs name whenever their drink was ready. Annette had realized that talking to Calum, once she adjusted her nerves, was pretty easy. He was easy to talk to, once he decided he wanted to actually hold a conversation, and Annette felt pretty good about the fact that he actually wanted to talk to her.
That was probably pathetic, she knew, but she couldnât bring herself to care.
She liked talking to him, liked listening to the sound of his voice when he wasnât singing, just as smooth and rich as he engaged with her. Calum talked leisurely, like he was in no rush, and he listened just like that, too. As if he had all of the time in the world to listen to whatever Annette was saying, and it was a complete change from when they met that first night. And it only proved to her that sheâd caught him on a bad day, that the Calum from that party wasnât how he actually treated people, but the one sitting across from her was a more honest and true version of him.
The way he stared at her as they talked was something Annette knew would take some time getting used to. His dark eyes stayed on her lighter ones, as if he was taking in every detail while also listening, and Annette often found herself with a dry throat, in need of clearing it to keep herself grounded. It was dangerously easy getting lost because of Calumâs stare. She wondered how many others had fallen victim to it.
âThe Great British Baking Show? Really?â Annette asked incredulously, eyebrows raised as a disbelieving grin spread at her lips. She was gaping at Calum, who huffed with arms crossed over his chest as he frowned at her, though no true defiance was present.
âWhyâs that so hard to believe?â he returned, obviously not getting why his admittance to one of his guilty pleasures was so shocking.
Annette laughed, good humored and melodious as she gave a shake of her head. âI just canât picture you watching something like that. Itâs justâthereâs no image in my head,â she said with a laugh, her words only causing Calum to roll his eyes.
âCome over one day and then youâll be able toââ
âLiana!â
Calum instantly cut himself off as the baristaâs voice cut through his words, prompting Annette to raise her eyebrows in slight startlement at the unexpected stop. She watched him, eyebrows lowering slowly into a frown as his dark eyed gaze remained behind her in the direction of the counter, all previous lightheartedness completely vanishing from his expression. Brown eyes wide, there was a hint of alarm swimming in them as Calum pressed his lips together, the muscle in his jaw jumping, clearly looking like a man who didnât like what he was seeing. There was a rigidness in his features, tight and uncomfortable with drawn together eyes lifted and worry reluctantly seeping into his eyes as well.
His lips parted, still looking behind Annette as he quietly breathed out, âFuckâs sake.â
Calumâs Adamâs apple bobbed as he clenched his jaw once more and Annette grew more concerned over his suddenly irate demeanor, looking like he wasnât sure if he was exasperated or just wanted to disappear from sight altogether. Hesitantly, Annette asked, âAre you okay?â Slowly, she turned around to see what he was staring so intensely at. âWhatâre you looking at?â
It wasnât that busy during this time in the late evening at Blueâs, so Annetteâs gaze went directly towards one of the few women she saw standing in the general direction Calum had been staring at. She was pretty, with dark brown hair just a little past her shoulders and legs that looked spectacular in the jeans she was wearing. The woman stood talking to a guy by the counter and Annette guessed he was waiting for his order or something, and with a curious quirk of her brow, she kept her questioning gaze on them as she asked Calum, âDo you know her?â
âYeah,â came Calumâs response, slow and gruff, his change of tone as surprising as his fallen expression. âYou can say that.â
As if hearing Calumâs voice from where she stood, Annette caught the way the womanâs head turned and gaze looked right past herâand right at the man Annette was sharing a table with. Even from where she sat, Annette saw the recognition flash across the other girlâs face, eyes narrowing ever so slightly before they widened in realization.
And then Annette watched her touch the arm of the guy she was with as she said something to him, before she began making her way over, and Annetteâs eyebrows raised as she turned back in her seat to face Calum and matter-of-factly said, âYeah, âcause she definitely knows you.â
Her gaze finally landed on Calum, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but at Blueâs in that moment. Annette could tell he was struggling to school his expression, the tightness born out of frustration and something else fighting to make itself known on his face, and she couldnât help but frown at him. Clearly whoever the woman making their way over to him was, was not someone Calum wanted to deal with as his hands wrapped around the edge of his laptop screen, and Annette was briefly worried he was going to snap it in half just as the woman stepped up to the table.
âCalum, hi.â She spoke in a friendly tone, though without even knowing her, Annette could pick up the subtle hesitance lying underneath. Glancing up at her, she saw the girlâAnnette guessed her name was Liana, given that was the name that had Calum getting all closed upânervously grab the strap of her back with her free hand, the other holding her drink. Her honey colored eyes swept over to Annette, a small smile present. âIâm sorry, I donât mean to interrupt.â She looked back at Calum once Annette offered a no worries type of smile. Was it bad to say she was curious as to what was going on? Looking back at Calum, Liana said, âI just saw you and I, uh, wanted to come say hi.â She bit her lower lip hesitantly. âHow are you?â
Liana seemed to genuinely want to know, and Annetteâs eyebrows lowered ever so slightly as she watched the two of them. Calum had leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, and Annette had a feeling it was his way of defending himself from whatever weight this conversation was about to bring. Annette felt as though she was intruding, but getting up now would be too obvious and awkward.
âWeâre not friends, Liana.â If Annette had thought Calum was cold towards her during their first meeting, it made that interaction look impeccable in terms of Calumâs demeanor now. She eyed him, silent in concern, at the edge that had bit into his tone and the way his eyes were suddenly void of all emotion. It was unnerving how good he was at that; like Calum had just flipped a switch and was able to hide everything he was feeling that had the chance of showing itself on his face. It was all gone, replaced by uninterested blankness with the creeping edge of dismissal and irritation. Those were the only emotions he allowed to convey, and Annette forced herself to remain a quiet presence. His gaze was sharp as he looked at the standing woman. âWasnât our last conversation meant to be our last?â
Annette pursed her lips, her gaze suddenly dropping to the table in front of her, like if she didnât look at the two people, itâd be like she wasnât listening in on the way Calum was completely shutting Liana down. She fiddled with her fingers in her lap, feeling the tension suddenly increase tenfold following Calumâs words. Annette understood that she had definitely caught Calum on a bad day the night of the party, because Liana was definitely not someone Calum wanted to be around at all. Annette felt bad for her; she hadnât felt too great after Calum had walked away, she could only imagine how Liana was feeling.
There was a history there, that much was obvious, and Annette justifiably wondered what couldâve happened that had Calum talking to her like that.
Annette could see Liana shifting uncomfortably from her peripheral. âCome on, Calum,â she tried again, this time a nervous laugh escaping her. âItâs beenââ
âFive months,â he cut in. Annette glanced up at him in enough time to see him say, ââS not long enough.â
She took a quiet breath when she noted the stare Calum was wearing: sharp, unforgiving, unapologetic. Annette wondered how Liana was still standing in the face of it, figuring that if she was on the receiving end of it, she would definitely turn and run away just because of the utter heat his glare was radiating. Holy shitâwhat had Liana done that warranted her such a hostile reaction from him?
Annette managed to look up, her gaze going to Liana, who had a defeated expression on her face that made the seated blonde feel sorry for her. Lianaâs throat worked, her cheeks flushing an embarrassed pink, and Annette wondered why the woman didnât snap back at Calum for speaking to her like that. Annette probably wasnât one to say something like that, given how Calum had walked away from her the first time, but to be fair, their interaction wasnât anywhere near as intense as this one. It was brief, quick, like ripping off a bandaid. This was almost too painful to watch.
Just as Annette thought that, she saw a shift in Liana in the way she tightened her jaw, blinking back the hurt Calumâs words enticed as she lifted her chin. With a calm tone that allowed for her own edge to creep in, Liana said to him, âIf you remember the last time we spoke, then you remember what I said to you.â Her eyes gave him a once over, the corner of her lips quirking into the smallest of sneers, like she was disappointed but unsurprised with what she was looking at. âBut I guess you didnât listen. As usual.â
Annette saw the instant reaction Lianaâs words invited on Calumâs face, the way his dark eyes narrowed instinctively, like he couldnât believe what sheâd just said. His jaw tightened. Like he was fighting to keep himself from reacting but couldnât. Lianaâs words, the meaning lost on Annette, clearly struck a harsh cord with Calum as his shoulders straightened, lips thinning as he fought the words threatening to escape.
But before Calum could say anythingâAnnette was sure she wouldnât want to hear itâsomeone stepped up next to Liana and said, âReady to go, babe?â
All eyes shifted to the newcomer, the guy Annette had seen with Liana earlier, as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He seemed oblivious to the tension as he smiled at Liana, gaze sweeping over Annette and Calum as a second thought. He offered both of them friendly smiles, one Annette returned automatically before her gaze flickered to Calum instinctively, because she felt as though she needed to keep an eye on him.
And she was right to, because otherwise she wouldâve missed the tightness of his jaw and the way his throat worked as he eyed the guy, or, more accurately, eyed the way his arm was around Liana. She watched Calum take in the sight of the couple, her eyebrows twitching together in a curious and concerned frown as she tried to figure out what Calum was feeling in that moment. To say he was bothered would be putting it lightly; he almost looked uncomfortable, defeated. . . Not surprised as he let out an airy scoff, nodding to himself as he leaned back.
His gaze dropped to his laptop screen, pulling one corner of his lip into his mouth, looking completely finished with this conversation and Annette frowned at him. What the hell was going on? Â
âYeah,â she heard Liana say, her voice growing tight with agitation. âBye, Calum. Sorry to interrupt.â
They left, their footsteps growing faint the further they moved away, melding into the low hum of the cafe as they exited, leaving behind an awkward silence Annette wasnât sure how to ease. She took a look at Calum hesitantly, pulling her lower lip into her mouth as she caught sight of him staring out the window to his right. The lights of the city reflected against the glass and his dark eyes, but the outside world melted into the late evening night as Annette watched the clench of his jaw and hardened eyes.
She had no idea who Liana was, but it wasnât hard to connect the dots that there was some kind of intense history between her and Calum, and whatever Liana meant by her words had hit Calum more than he wanted them to. Annette parted her lips, hesitant, before pressing them together again. She found the courage quickly to gently ask, âAre you okay?â
Calum was silent for a moment. Then it was like something snapped in his head, motions quick and jerking as he shut his laptop, grunting out, âI need a drink.â His gaze dropped to the half finished cup in front of him, frown deepening. âSomethinâ stronger than coffee.â
Annetteâs eyes widened slightly, eyebrows raised as she watched him shove his laptop in his backpack before shouldering it as he stood up. Her eyes followed his movements and Calum paused when he noticed her still sitting, watching him. He raised an eyebrow, impatient as he questioned, âYou cominâ?â
âUh.â She gaped at him, not entirely expecting the invite, not when he seemed so agitated. His grip on the strap of his bag was tight, and Annette figured heâd want to be alone since he seemed so upset. But if he was about drink in a pissed off mood, Annette would rather keep an eye on him. âYeah, sure,â she quickly confirmed, feeling as if she took too long to answer, Calum may change her mind.
He waited as she stood up and pulled her jacket back on, grabbing her bag as she followed him out of the cafe. It was chilly, unsurprisingly, as they stepped onto the sidewalk and began making their way down, but Annette was quick to realize they werenât walking in the direction of the bar theyâd been at a week ago.
She eyed Calum as he walked along next to her, just a subtle pace ahead due to his longer legs, his dark eyes staring straight ahead as they went. Annette hesitated on opening her mouth but after they walked a few blocks in nothing but silence save for the buzz of the city around them, she slowly asked, âWeâre not going to Mackâs?â
Calum licked his teeth. âIf I go to a bar Iâm gonna blow all my money. Better to raid my own supply,â he answered steadily, eyes shifting to glance down at her. âYou cool with that?â
Annette raised her eyebrows as a way of agreeing. âYeah, âcourse.â
So she stayed quiet as she followed Calum through the city, finally reaching the apartment complex after they walked a few blocks, took a subway ride, and then walked another two blocks. The entire time, Calum had remained silent and Annette kept her arms crossed as every step closer they got to his place, the more she wondered if it was a good idea to go with himâif he even still wanted her to come along. He was clearly not in a good mood and Annette wasnât sure if he still wanted her company, but she stayed silent. After all, Annette was still kind of wanted to keep an eye on him if he was about to drink.
Her body felt tense with nerves as they stood in the elevator, side by side in complete silence, until they stopped in front of a door that Calum unlocked and opened. He stepped in behind her, flicking on a switch to light up the living room, and Annette took in the dark grey couch facing a TV, windows not quite floor to ceiling but large enough to provide optimal natural light if the blinds werenât drawn. It was an open plan kitchen and hallway leading towards the bedroom, probably, and Annette admired the apartment. It was simple, with hints of personal touches like concert posters and a shelf full of books and records in the corner, along with a bunch of plants placed strategically.
The sound of keys clattering startled Annette, head turning to see Calumâs hand retract from a small table behind the couch where heâd dropped his keys. She felt awkward, no doubt, given that this was her first time at Calumâs place, as Calum shrugged off his leather jacket and dropped it to the couch before making his way towards the kitchen.
He cast her a look as he went. âWhiskey?â
She followed him with her eyes before pulling out of the brief trance and shrugging off her own jacket. She followed him. Annette wasnât entirely sure if sheâd regret this, but she didnât quite care in the moment. âSure.â
The apartment was silent save for the clinking of the Jim Beam bottle and glasses Calum pulled out, placing them on the counter. It was a full bottle, untouched, and Annette felt an uneasy twist of her stomach at the thought of Calum potentially wanting to finish it all tonight. Had his conversation with Liana really affected him so much?
Annette kept her gaze on him, noting his features completely void of any expression as he uncapped the bottle and poured some in each glass. He lifted one of them, dark eyes finally meeting Annetteâs light ones as he held the glass out to her expectantly. She took it, offering a small smile as she found herself asking, âWhatâre we toasting to?â
Calum paused, lips parting to roll his lower one in, tongue swiping over it as his gaze averted thoughtfully, free hand braced on the counter. Then a wry smile curled at his lips, head tilting as his eyes met Annetteâs, the sarcasm in both his gaze and voice as he declared, âTo being emotionally unavailable.â
That was not at all what she was expecting. Annette looked at him, eyebrows raised in bewilderment as Calum flashed her a derisive smile while clinking their glasses and taking a sip of his drink. But Annette kept staring, wondering why the hell Calum would say something like thatâand the way he said it, too. Like he was mocking someone elseâs words, ready to spit on them and shove them back in the face of whoever had uttered them.
And she watched as Calum downed the contents of his glass, throat working as he swallowed and sucking in a breath through his teeth as he eyed the now empty glass. âRight, come on,â Calum spoke up, looking at Annette as he grabbed for the bottle with his free hand and walked around the counter. He jutted his chin. âLetâs plant that image of me watching The Great British Baking Show in your head.â
âUhââ Annette sounded, trying to wrap her head around what was happening. She frowned briefly. âOkay,â she finished slowly as she turned and followed him.
They settled on the couch as calum turned on the TV, and Annette sipped at her whiskey as Calum switched to Netflix. The sweet mixed with smokey taste tickled her throat as Calum played the first episode of one of the seasons.
Annette tried not to think of how. . . Strange this was. She hadnât exactly planned on watching some baking show while drinking whiskey in Calumâs apartment, and yet here she was, wondering how the hell she ended up here. It didnât help that Calumâs words were swimming around in her head, drowning out the sound of the TV as she wondered why he toasted to being emotionally unavailable.
They were silent, much like they had been since they left Blueâs, the only sounds emitting from their surroundings as the hum of the city was replaced by the TV. Annette watched Calum from the corner of her eye, sipping her drink and feeling it run smoothly down her throat once she grew used to the taste. He watched the show, slouched on the couch as he sipped from his own glass and kept his gaze glued on the TV, curls brushing across his forehead that Annette itched to push away.
She had so many questions.
But for now, she finished her drink, licking her lips and taking a breath before holding her empty glass out to Calum. He looked at her and then at the glass, lips quirking with a small grin she hadnât seen since Liana had showed up, a sight that almost jump started her heart, and poured her some more whiskey.
*****
Annette wasnât really drunk, but saying she was a hundred percent sober would be a lie. She felt slightly lighter than before, laying on the couch with her head resting on the armrest and knees bent so her legs didnât go over Calumâs lap. He was still in the same position as they had started, slouched on his head of the couch, only this time he was hugging the now empty bottle of whiskey.
âOh, shit!â he exclaimed, startling Annette as she lifted her head to look at him. Calum was pointing to the TV, eyes wide and lips curling into a wide grin as he waved his hand in such a comical way that Annette couldnât keep in her amused laugh. âHer biscuit tower fell! Sheâs fucked!â
Her gaze returned to the TV where a contestantâs tower of biscuits did, in fact, fall over as she scrambled to race against the clock to correct the mistake, and Annette couldnât keep her laughter in because of Calumâs overreaction, too drunk to keep himself quiet as he guffawed. She watched him, feeling the giggles come a lot easier now that there was some alcohol in her, admiring the flush of his cheeks due to the entire bottle heâd finished after she only had about three glasses. Â
Annette wasnât entirely sure how long sheâd been at Calumâs apartment, laying on his couch and watching British people make baked goods as he let out drunken comments and laughs every now and again. When Annette had told him she couldnât find an image in her head of him watching this show, sheâd been right; but now, all she could see was Calum dropping comments of dough not proven for long enough or cakes that looked like a toddler iced them. And it was hilariously unexpected, bringing a lightness to her chest every time he said something. Clearly he spent some time watching the show, and it only kind of made Annetteâs heart beat for him a little faster.
When she checked her phone, she sucked in a breath to see that it was almost one in the morning, and if she hoped to wake up for her nine oâclock shift tomorrow, she needed to head home now. So Annette sighed as she blinked slowly, a mixture of slight tipsiness and sleepiness as she pushed herself into a sitting position, running her fingers through her blonde hair to push it back.
âI should head home,â she said, her voice soft against the TV as she shifted to get her feet to touch the ground. Her sneakers were next to the couch as she bent to grab them and shove her feet inside.
âAlready?â Calum shifted next to her, sitting up and Annette looked at him, feeling her heart jump at the frown lowering his eyebrows and pout on his full lips to go with the whine heâd spoken with.
Letting out a gentle laugh, Annette responded, âIâve been here for four hours, Calum. Itâs time for bed.â
âWell,â he dragged out the word as he looked around for the remote before finding it and pausing the show, shoulders slumped as he asked her sadly, âwhy donât you sleep here? Itâs late andââ
âIâve got work early tomorrow,â Annette told him, her voice kind and heart warm at his offer. God, sheâd stay here any other day. But neither of them were completely sober, and work the next day really was killing the mood. The way Calum was pouting at her, drunken and adorable, wasnât at all helping her in any way, working against her to make her want to stay. But she couldnât. Sheâd stayed to make sure he was alright, and while he was drunk, he seemed to be okay. Maybe sheâd tell Luke to check on him tomorrow. âIâll take an Uber. I donât live far from here anyway.â
Annette stood up, blinking once as she made sure she had her footing, the lightheadedness present from the whiskey. Shrugging on her jacket, she pulled her hair from under the collar and looked down at Calum to see him staring up at her. His dark eyes were glazed over, cheeks and nose flushed cutely, and the sudden urge to kiss him that overcame Annette threatened to rob her of her breath. She needed to get out of here.
âText me when you get home?â Calum questioned as he stood, and he had less balance than Annette, unsurprisingly, as he let out a quiet whoa with raised eyebrows as he dropped the empty bottle on the couch and grabbed the back of it to keep himself upright.
Annette let out a laugh as she began making her way towards the door, Calum right behind her once he got his footing. âWill you be awake when I do?â she questioned teasingly after opening the door, stepping into the hall, and turning around to face him with a raised eyebrow.
Calum let out a scoff of a laughâwas it a scoff? He almost blew a raspberryâas he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframeâwhether it was just an absent action or because he couldnât keep himself upright, Annette wasnât sure. Being a bit tipsy was inhibiting her ability to read people. Still, she admired how fucking good he looked in his simple black full sleeved shirt, the fabric of it straining against his biceps since his arms were crossed, and across his chest.
âFor you?â Calum questioned as a response to hers, raising his eyebrows as a lazy, boyish grin lifted at his lips. It was a smile that easily had Annetteâs heart jumping to her throat, though it didnât compare to the way a glint danced across his dark eyes when he finished with a factual, âOf course.â
Her cheeks flushed, warmer than the whiskey ever made her as she ducked her head, fighting off a smile, and Calum grinned at her reaction. He tilted his head, leaning it against the doorframe as he watched her, his gaze burning into her wonderfully. When Annette looked back at him, at the relaxed features he was finally expressing and the easy, yet drunken, smile on his lips, she suddenly felt the question that had been nagging her fall at the tip of her tongue.
She wanted to keep it in, to not ruin the moment, but Annette crossed her own arms across her chest and gently asked, âWhat was that about being emotionally unavailable, Calum?â
There had been no lead up or preemptive move before she voiced that question, but Annette had been keeping it in since the moment Calum had made that toast. Her curiosity itched at her, and with the bit of whiskey running through her veins, it gave Annette enough of an excuse to finally utter it.
She watched as Calum registered her question before his eyes closed, lips lifting into a smile as he let out another scoff while ducking his head. He looked at her once he straightened, curls once again falling over his forehead, and Annette was surprised there was no trace of the dry, humorless smile that had been on his face when he made that toast.
Instead, Calum returned to leaning his head against the doorframe, looking down at her shorter figure with a reminiscent smile on his face. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system that allowed Calum to so easily confess, âLiana and I dated for a while and, uh, broke up five months ago because, according to her, I was too emotionally unavailable to be in a relationship with her. So she found someone who was.â
He ended with a single shrug and a roll of his eyes, but Annette frowned as she saw past that mask. She had figured there was some kind of romantic past between the two of them, but to see Calum still hurt about it had her biting the inside of her cheek, empathizing with him. She imagined being told that you werenât emotionally attached to your significant other by them couldnât have been easy, and Annetteâs chest tightened for him. And as she watched Calum drop his gaze to the doorframe where his nail was scratched at it, arms still crossed, Annette knew Calum probably felt dumb for being upset about it. But she wanted to tell him he was right to. Him being upset was justified, in her opinion. She didnât like seeing him like this.
âFor what itâs worth,â Annette spoke up, her voice quiet and soft, eyes on him even though he was avoiding her gaze. The tall, broad man in front of her looked small as he tried to hide behind an invisible wall, like he was ashamed of having feelings. Ashamed of being the opposite of the very thing heâd been accused of. So she spoke gently, honestly, in the silence of the late hour. âI think if youâre capable of writing those beautiful songs and singing them with the kind of passion you do, then thereâs no way youâre emotionally unavailable.â
The pure honesty in her words had Calum lifting his head, brown eyes finally meeting her bluish-brown ones as he ceased picking at the door frame, and Annette kept the kind smile on her lips as she noted the whirlwind of emotions that flashed across his pretty eyes. She saw them under the glaze of the alcohol as he gazed at her, the sleepiness from the alcohol disappearing for a moment to be replaced with an appreciation for her and her words.
Her statement was followed by a silence that settled upon them like a blanket, and Annette could feel the way the two of them were drawing close to one another under the shelter of it. Their movements were gradual, eyes locked and hearts thundering the closer they got.
Somewhere in the back of her head, Annette could hear a voice telling her to stop; to pull back and turn and leave, but she was quick to shush it. This may be a bad idea, but she didnât care all too much in this moment. She wanted to ignore her head and listen to her heart, wanted to let her body draw near Calumâs as every second went back, hoping the whiskey in her veins didnât cause her to lose her balance.
As soon as Annetteâs gaze dropped from Calumâs, his dark eyes only alluring her more, and flickered to his lips, there was no going back. Because suddenly she was feeling Calumâs hands cradling her jaw, thumbs on her cheeks as he tilted her head up enough to capture her lips with his in a surprisingly tender kiss. Annetteâs eyes slipped shut instantly, her hands gently grasping his wrists as she slowly moved her lips with Calumâs, the sensation of his savoringly sucking on her lower lip sparking a fire in her fueled blood that she voiced through a satisfied hum.
It was a slow kiss, getting to know the feel of one anotherâs lips as the faint taste of whiskey danced on their tongues and Calumâs touch burned wonderfully at Annetteâs skin. She callouses of his thumbs were nothing compared to the warmth his touch provided, or the electricity shocking Anette to her very core as Calum kissed her tenderly.
They pulled away moments later, not because they wanted to but because they had to, air becoming a necessary evil. The kiss ended but their lips dragged against one anotherâs, noses fitting together and foreheads pressed as Annette kept her eyes closed. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart, feel Calum against her, and inhale the delicious scent of his woodsy, summery cologne and something else that was just him and maybe even more inviting. Annette had no idea what the hell just happened, but she was glad it did.
She couldnât stay though, no matter how much she wanted to. She needed to go home and maybe think of what sheâd just done on the drive back, and maybe hope that the tingling sensation of her lips never went away as she found herself squeezing Calumâs slender wrists under her grasp. âUm.â Annette let out a short, breathless laugh, lips curled into a flustered grin and squeezing her closed eyes before opening them. Her gaze immediately went to Calumâs lips, the ones sheâd just kissed, the urge to do so again rushing back powerfully. Annette took a breath as Calum brushed his nose against hers, humming quietly in response, as she finally found the reluctant words, âI should go.â
Against her, Calum brushed his thumbs across her cheeks. His voice was low with an enticing rasp as he responded, âSounds like a terrible idea.â
Annette let out another breathless giggle as her hands dropping from his wrists and lowered to where his arms were bent at his elbows. Somehow, she found it in herself to pull away, head tilting back ever so slightly to look at him, stomach twisting happily to see his brown eyes already looking at her. She couldnât be entirely sure if he was looking at her so adoring because he truly meant it or because he was drunk, but Annette didnât want to ruin the moment by thinking about it. God, she needed to go.
âIâll, uh, text you when I get home?â Annette responded, her words coming out as a question as she peered up at him, unsure if the offer still stood.
âPlease.â He sounded far too earnest for someone who was drunk, and it didnât make falling for him any harder.
Annette reluctantly pulled away from him, hands dropping from him as he did the same, gazing licking as she offered him a smile. Calum returned it, boyish and lazy, as he crossed his arms over his chest like he didnât know what to do with them now that his hands werenât on her.
He watched her go, and Annette could feel his gaze burning into her back as she approached the elevator at the end of the short hall. It opened up right away, and when she stepped in and turned around, her heart jumped at the sight of Calum, leaning out of his doorway to keep his eyes on her. She saw him grin, raising his hand in a two finger salute as the doors slid closed, and Annette desperately wanted to pry them open and go back to Calum.
Trying to figure out if that was just a drunken kiss or if it meant something would only dampen her mood. So Annette put it of her mind, and only focused on the way her lips still tingled and burned from Calumâs own. The smile remained on her face her entire journey home, practically permanently glued when she texted Calum she reached safely, as promised, and he returned it with a semi coherent Good. Night, doll.
*****
âYour two favorite people are right here. What do you keep looking at your phone for, Hemmings?â
Calumâs tease received an absent smile from Luke, though it faltered quickly as a worried expression crossed over his face and he placed his phone on the table. âJust checking in on Annette,â he sighed, leaning back and propping his elbow on the armrest of his chair, running his hand down his face.
Upon noticing Lukeâs expression, and hearing his words, the smile on Calumâs face lessened as his eyebrows drew together, gaze flickering over to Sierra. His confusion grew when he saw the understanding expression on her face, and Calum sat up as he looked at Luke sitting diagonal of him. âIs she okay?â he asked, wondering what could prompt Luke to want to check in on her.
Lukeâs blue eyes met Calumâs brown, the hesitation that crossed over his face only making Calum anxious as he frowned impatiently. âItâs justâitâs a tough day for her,â Luke answered, hand running through his blonde curls, a nervous habit of his. When he took in the look Calum was giving him, wanting an explanation, Luke held back the ill-timed yet absent chuckle that almost threatened to escape him. Calumâs interest in Annette was obvious, was endearing, which was why Luke found himself admitting, âItâs the anniversary of her parentsâ death.â
The expression on Calumâs face went from blank to disbelieving in under a second, Lukeâs words registering a bit too painfully in his head. Painfully because it was unexpected and because once Calum understood the heavy weight behind them, he felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach for Annette. For a split, desperate second Calum was hoping Luke was delivering the punch line of a sick joke, but the somber expression on his faceâand on Sierraâsâtold Calum his best friendâs words were that of a sad, horrible truth. Â
He stared at Luke, incredulous and bewildered, eyebrows drawn together in a frown over widened eyes as he tried to make sense of what heâd just been told. The busy hum of the restaurant the three of them were in dissipated as a flurry of thoughts whirled in Calumâs head, driven by disbelief and even a hint of panic. Annetteâs parents were dead and Calum had no idea.
Not that he had any business in knowing, because as much as this newfound information shocked him and even had his heart dropping, what astounded Calum even more was Annette herself. This girl who was kind of shy but had the prettiest, infectious smile had suffered a loss Calum couldnât ever imagine going through. Of course he didnât expect her to walk around advertising the painful fact, but knowing Annette carried something as heavy as that with her and didnât let it show made his throat tighten.
Calum cared for her, more than he thought he would when they first met, his feelings for her growing unexpectedly and out of left field. Annette drew him in after Calum got his head out of his ass and started hanging out with her, getting to know her and her taste for weird colored drinks. She was quiet but chatted when she was comfortable, much like Calum, and the more he hung out with her, the more he realized how easy and effortless it was with Annette.
So effortless that Calum had no idea he was falling for her until the alcohol in his system pushed him far enough to kiss her. The fact that she reciprocated was thrilling.
At a loss for words, Calum licked his lips, throat dry as he asked Luke with his gaze dropping to the blondeâs phone, âDid she reply?â
The corner of Lukeâs lips lifted as he disgruntledly clicked his tongue. âYeah, she said she just got back from Jersey and was home now. Says sheâs fine but, yâknow, Iâm worried.â
âTen years,â Sierra murmured and Calumâs eyes drifted to her. Her dark eyed gaze was on the table absently, a sympathetic furrow in her eyebrows for the woman they were all talking about. Sierra pressed her lips together and gave a dejected shake of her head, finally looking at the two men as she let out a sigh. âThatâs a big one.â
Calum barely knew Annette for ten weeks, yet he felt the powerful urge to be able to ease the ten years worth of pain she was probably going through.
Which is why after his late lunch with Luke and Sierra, he found himself standing in front of the dark green door of Annetteâs apartment, lips rolled into his mouth as he debated on knocking. Heâd texted her after he left the restaurant, his two messages of Are you home? and Luke told me being responded with Yeah, come over?
Now he was there, willing himself to knock. The last time Calum had seen Annette was two days after theyâd kissed, and that was also two days ago. They were busy with work and school, and although they hadnât seen each other, that didnât mean they didnât speak. It was as if nothing between them had changed when they texted, but there was an undertone present that reminded them of that moment at Calumâs doorâas if they could forget.
Calum certainly couldnât. He swore he could still feel the softness of Annetteâs lips against his, taste the combination of whiskey and her watermelon flavored chapstick that he yearned for again. Kissing Annette had been an impulsive, drunken decision but it was not one he regretted. If anything, the alcohol pushed him to do something Calum had subconsciously been wanting to do for a while. Seeing Liana led him to wanting a drink, which turned into drinking a whole bottle of whiskey, which eventually led to him kissing Annette.
Seeing his ex hadnât been the highlight of his day, but saying the day ended on a better note would be an understatement.
Standing in front of Annetteâs door, though, Calum knew he didnât want anything from her right now. He just wanted to be there for her. She may not have asked him to, and he feared he was imposing, but he cared about her in a way that tightened his throat at the thought of her hurting. Calum just wanted to offer any kind of help she may need. He wanted to try.
The door opened after his knuckles rapped against it twice, and Calum was greeted by the sight of Annette, his heart jumping into his throat. Her thick blonde hair was down in its loose waves, looking adoringly comfortable in an oversized sweater ready to swallow her with its sleeves too long and leggings underneath. Calum gazed at her, taking in intricate eyes and the long lashes framing them, as well as how her entire face had a flush to it. Sheâd been crying.
âHey,â she greeted, and Calum felt the air rush out of his lungs as her lips quirked into a small smile. He didnât want her to smile if she didnât feel like it. Didnât want her to smile at his expense. But he squashed that last thought when Annetteâs eyes showed some relief, and she let go of the door knob when Calum took a step forward and lifted her arms. âIâm glad youâre here.â
He got the message instantly, pulling her in for the hug she was looking for with his arms around her shoulders, feeling Annetteâs wrap around his torso. Her fruity scent enveloped him invitingly and Calum pressed his cheek to the top of her head, feeling her own press against his chest and her hands on his back. They held each other close, soaking in the otherâs warmth, and Calumâs eyes slipped shut as he physically felt Annette let out a breath, the tension in her body seeming to release with it as she melted into him, the heaviness of her day, her life, weighing against her.
Annetteâs voice was small, muffled against the material of his sweatshirt as she said, âIâm probably not the best company right now.â
Calum let out a gentle scoff, arms still around her securely, as he assured, âIâll be here anyway.â
They eventually ended up on the carpeted floor of her living room, settled on the floor cushions with each of them nursing a cup of tea. Colin wasnât home, the two of them having the apartment to themselves, the windows closed to keep the heat in as well as the noise of the city outside. It was quiet in the apartment, the only sound coming from the consistent ticking of the clock on the wall near the TV and the occasional clinks of Calumâs rings hitting the ceramic mug every time he adjusted his grip.
âI didnât think Iâd cry a lot today.â Annetteâs voice was gentle, not quite shattering the silence but pushing through it. Calum glanced at her, sitting right next to him with their backs against the couch, but her head was slightly bowed and gaze was on her mug of tea. He saw the way the corner of her lips tilted, the smile humorless and not at all fitting her. âBut ten years. . . Itâs big, isnât it? Feels like a lifetime.â
Calum stayed quiet, because she needed this. She wanted to talk and he wanted to listen.
âThe first couple of years were awful, yâknow?â she continued after drawing a breath, lips twisting to the side. âI was the angriest teen youâd meet.â Annette let out a short laugh at that, casting a glance at Calum, noting the attentive way he was listening, never looking away. She looked ahead, his gaze weighing on her comfortingly. âI was pissed that it was my parents who got killed in a car accident and that I had to live with my aunt and uncle and everything was screwed up. Twelve year old me was pissed and over the past few years, I decided I didnât ever wanna feel like that again. Life was too damn short to stay feeling that way.â
Annette paused as she inhaled deeply, the tendons in her neck tensing as she blinked a few times, and Calum knew her to be fighting back tears. His eyebrows drew together as he watched her keep herself together, wanting to tell her it was okay if she couldnât. Instead he rested his mug in the space between his thighs and reached his left hand over, grasping onto Annetteâs right as he laced their fingers together. She looked down at the newfound source of warmth, a smile quirking at her lips.
âThey missed out on so much,â she continued after swallowing with a quick frown. âTrack meets, high school graduation, first love, first heartbreak, getting into college. All the things I took their presence in for granted and it hurt every time I went through those things and they werenât there to support me but it got easier over time. Butââ Her throat was tight, voice straining to fight through the emotions closing her up, and Calum felt the subtle burn in his eyes. He wasnât an emotional guy other than on paper, but watching Annette reminisce the loss of her parents sent a shocking stab of pain throughout his body he hadnât expected. It hurt seeing her hurt. She squeezed his hand, and he was quick to return the gesture. âRealizing itâs been an entire decade since theyâve passed is kind of. . . Itâs unreal. And I hate that it just. . . Isnât unreal.â
In that moment, Calum felt as though he understood Annette just a little bit better. Understood why she was always smiling and why she didnât look like the kind of person who got pissed off easilyâwhy she forgave him so quickly instead of being turned off by his behavior at first. Sheâd spent too long being angry and upsetârightfully soâthat she minimized those kind of emotions in other circumstances where she knew sheâd be better off just letting it go. The world was trying enough to give someone plenty of reasons to be angry; why hold onto shit that didnât matter in the long run?
âHolding onto anger like that is exhausting,â Annette spoke up, an airy laugh escaping her as she did so, turning her head to look at him with that same smile she always wore, though this time a hint of sadness curved at her lips, accompanying the tired look in her bluish-brown eyes. Her long eyelashes seemed damp with tears. She offered a single shouldered shrug. âAnd holding grudges over the smaller shit doesnât help anyone. When you allow yourself to move on from the little things, it kind of gives you room to make your way through the pain that feels like itâs always holding you back.â The something crossed across her glassy eyes, something akin to sheepishness that Calum caught before Annette quickly dropped her gaze back down to the mug. Quietly, she added in a mumble, âI probably sound stupid.â
âNope.â Calum shook his head, instantly killing that train of thought before it could go off the rails. With his free hand, he moved aside his mug so he could shift his body to face him. He made sure Annetteâs mug was out of the way as well as he grabbed onto her other hand, getting her to look at him. Calumâs expression was serious, but kind as he admired the softness of her skin touching his. âSaying you sound stupid is not giving yourself any credit for how strong you are. I canât imagine going through a loss like that at the age you did.â He noted the way her lower lip trembled at her words, though she offered a grateful smile, and Calum squeezed her hands. âYour parents would be proud of you for pushing through, Annie.â
Something flashed across her eyes just then, something nostalgic and sad as her eyebrows lifted ever so slightly and a small smile curled at her lips. She looked down at their joined hands and let out a breathless puff of laughter. âNo oneâs called me that since my parents passed. They were the only ones who called me Annie.â
The guilt twisted at Calumâs gut as he tried to pull back, lips parting as he took a breath. âOhâIâm sorry, Iââ
âNo, no,â Annette was quick to soothe, looking up at him with a smile lighter than the ones from before, this one not carrying the pain of her parentsâ memory. It was a real Annette smile, the kind that rendered him breathless. She averted her gaze briefly before shyly murmuring, âI like when you say it.â
Her words had Calum smiling in return, seeing a glimpse of the shy and adoring girl heâd come to know, but this wasnât about Annette making him smile. It was meant to be the other way around. So he tried in the best way he knew how.
âYou know what else I know that you like?â Calum asked, raising an eyebrow as a smile quirked at the corner of his lips. Annette sniffled, tears gone and cheeks flushed, as she raised her eyebrows in question. His smile was gentle, kind, voice a soothing murmur as he let go of one of her hands to push some locks of blonde hair behind her ear. The back of Calumâs finger grazed along her cheek as he tilted his head down at her, soft gaze on her as he said, âI know you like it when I sing.â
Annette seemed to understand exactly where Calum was going with this, forehead smoothing out as the grateful smile on her lips returned, chest sinking as she let out a quiet laugh that Calum wanted to hear more of. He easily mirrored her smile, glad to see some of that light return in her eyes, as he briefly cupped her cheek before whispering, âCome on.â His words were followed by Calum shifting them, arms wrapping around Annette and pulling her into his chest, back against him. His arm was loosely across her collarbones and Annette held his arm in her hands and settled against him, feeling the line of his jaw against her temple as his other arm settled across her waist. His warmth against her had an instant reaction from Annette, relaxing her, and Calum brushed his lips against her temple before asking, âAny requests?â
Annette hummed, happy and comfortable, as her fingers tapped against his arm. âAre we talking originals?â
He chuckled, the deep sound vibrating against Annette. Calum couldnât help but think how comfortable he was here, with Annette in his arms, her body providing more warmth than the tea. He was engulfed in her just like she was embraced by him and Calum was realizing, without pause, there was no other place heâd rather be. âWeâre talkinâ anything you want, sweetheart.â
She was silent for a moment before saying, âThat one song you had. . . It was really pretty. Uh. . . Waste The Night.â
Calum grinned, lips brushing against her temple once more. âGot it,â he said,taking a breath before he began singing the familiar sound. For the first time, Annette heard Calum just as him; just his voice, with no instruments nor the accentuating of a microphone. And it made this day a little bit easier.
*****
There was a regular customer at Blueâs who, upon sight, brought a grin onto Calumâs face without even trying. Whether it was when he was seated at a table and heard the jingle of the bell and saw her walk in, or when he was on stage and her face stood out in the small crowdâCalumâs eyes found hers and the smile she brought out was one he couldnât ever hope to stop. It felt different. It felt good.
It was noticeable, the change in him, how the smile came more easily to his face when Annette was around. To the point where the employees at Blueâs noticed and made comments about it and instead of rolling his eyes. . . It only widened Calumâs smile more. And it felt real. He felt like himself before Liana and the heartbreak. He felt happy and good and it all had to do with Annette making him the happiest he could be for the past three months.
Stepping off the small stage at Blueâs, Calum took a minute to put his guitar back in its case before picking it up and walking over to the pretty girl sitting at one of the back tables, a smile on her face as he approached her. âHey,â he greeted her with a grin, resting his guitar on the floor and leaning it against the table. Calum ducked to press a quick kiss to Annetteâs lips, pulling away and standing straight as he raised an eyebrow at her. âI didnât know you were coming today.â
âOf course you didnât,â Annette hummed, shooting him a teasing smile as she leaned back in her seat. âBecause no one volunteers to work on New Years Eve.â
Calum scoffed with a roll of his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. âThis doesnât even count as work,â he pointed out, earning a light laugh from her. His gaze then dropped to the table and Calum smiled as he gestured to the cup. âAnd look, you even got your froo-froo drink!â
âStop,â Annette pouted at him before breaking out into a grin as Calum shook his head with his own, the smile bringing out those adorable crinkles she loved. âAre you ready to go? We still have to get ready for Ashtonâs party.â
âYeah, let me go to the bathroom real quick,â Calum said and Annette nodded as he turned and went, disappearing towards the back of the cafe to where the bathrooms were.
She waited for him while busying herself on her phone, thought it was short lived when a voice spoke up, âI didnât think he was capable of still smiling like that.â
Annette looked up, gaze landing on the woman standing by the table, her eyebrows drawing together as she tried to place the vaguely familiar face. It clicked suddenly as the crease in Annetteâs forehead smoothed, realizing the woman who had spoken was Liana, Calumâs ex whoâd told him, once upon a time, he was emotionally unavailable.
Heâs told her about Liana, about how sheâd found comfort and solace with some other guy when she was still with Calum. She reasoned that it was because she was lonely, because Calum wasnât as invested in her and their relationship as she was, and maybe Calum shouldâve tried harder, but it also didnât give her a reason to run into the arms of someone else.
Annette had been angry on Calumâs behalf. But being with him now. . . Liana couldnât have been more wrong about him.
Keeping her tone kind, as it always was, Annette responded, âHeâs always been capable.â She reached for her drink. âIt probably just took the right person to bring it out,â Annette added lightly, taking a sip of her iced tea through the straw.
Glancing up, Annette took in the way Liana raised her eyebrows at Annetteâs sweetly delivered snide comment. She felt her heart jump a bit, not entirely one to make remarks like such directed at someone, but Annette wasnât going to let Calumâs ex talk rudely about him to his backâto his girlfriend. Especially when Annette knew how much Liana hurt him, and while Calum got some great songs out of that heartbreak, it was something she uselessly wished she couldâve protected him from.
Annette wasnât one to hold onto anger, but she was definitely capable of telling someone to fuck offâalbeit, more kindly.
Trying to recover, Liana let out a forced chuckle. âIt was just a joke.â
Annette pursed her lips, the sweet taste of her drink lingering on her tongue as she clicked it. âOh, but it wasnât.â She was surprised at herself for not feeling intimidated by the woman standing in heels over her seated figure, easily looking up at Liana with a cool expression. Surprised and proud of herself. âYou donât mess with someone and play it off as a joke. Especially if you see them better off afterwards.â One corner of her lip quirking up into an empty smile, Annette offered a single shrug as she added, âTheyâre happier despite what you did, not because of it.â
Liana looked disgruntled at Annetteâs words, lips parting and eyebrows drawing together as she tried to find the right words to respond with. Annette doubted she had them. âYou have no idea what youâre talking about.â
âMaybe not,â Annette agreed with a nod, her eyes on Lianaâs. âBut Calumâs told me enough.â Annetteâs eyes glanced towards the back of the cafe, hoping Calum didnât come out just yet. âAnd from what heâs said to me, I know itâd be better if he didnât see you.â
She kept her gaze steady with Lianaâs, not letting the other woman intimidate her. Annette couldnât entirely believe the way sheâd spoken, but when it came to Calum, Annette couldnât seem to shut up. Defending him came naturally, easily, and she didnât regret a single word that left her during that conversation. And she let Liana know that with the cool, unwavering look she was giving her.
Of course, Liana didnât seem to appreciate it. She lifted her shoulders, as if giving herself a backbone, probably feeling good about having to literally look down at Annette, not that that made Annette feel small. In this moment, she wasnât. With a sneer, Liana said, âHope his feelings donât crap out on him again. He can be dysfunctional that way.â
Annette clenched her jaw at that, quite literally having to bite her tongue from snapping back at the brunette who was now walking away. But Annette was quick to calm herself down as she released a breath through her nose. The playlist Calum made for her for Christmas, all consisting of new songs heâd written, all about her, and recorder for her to listen to, would easily prove Liana wrong. But that was for Annette to enjoy.
She hadnât realized sheâd been smiling until Calum was in front of her, tugging at the hem of his leather jacket as he raised an eyebrow at her. âWhatâre you smiling at, weirdo?â
With a laugh and a roll of her eyes, she shook her head and stood up. âNothing. Just excited about this party,â she dismissed, feeling a calmness settle over her as Calum grabbed his guitar case and allowed his free arm to rest over her shoulders.
Hours later, Annette stood by the large windows of Ashtonâs living room, her eyes taking in the city before them past the reflection of the inside of the apartment where the lights were on and people were mingling. The entire city was partyingâit was damn near hell getting from her apartment to Ashtonâs since everyone was headed to Times Squareâbut Annette appreciated being in the warmth and comfort of the apartment than the bitter cold of New York. She also enjoyed watching the vague flurries of snow falling from the sky, high above the skyscrapers around them.
As she swallowed her sip of whatever fruity, alcoholic mixed drink Luke had concocted, Annette felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and a somewhat scruffy chin deliciously scraping against the skin of her neck. âYou good, Annie?â Calumâs deep, quiet voice questioned, keeping her back against his chest as his voice ran smoothlyâsheâd rather hear that than the music currently playing.
Annette leaned her head back, the smile quirking up her lips at him and the use of the nickname as she placed her left hand on top of both of his, right hand holding the cup. âMhm,â she hummed, tilting her head slightly to press her lips in a quick kiss to his cheek. She loved kissing his cheeks. âHow much longer until midnight?â
Calum hummed thoughtfully as he unwound one arm from around her, digging into his pocket to pull out his phone and bring it around so Annette could see the screen that read 11:58. Annette let out an excited, almost childlike gasp. âItâs almost time!â
Chuckling, Calum pressed his own lips to her jaw, widening Annetteâs grin as she felt his scruff scratch against her some more, adding to the sensation of his soft lips. âWhy do you think I came to find you?â She let out a light giggle, turning in his arms to face him, though Calumâs arms remained around her. Looking down at her, Calum tilted his head and asked, âSo did you decide on your New Yearsïżœïżœ resolution?â
âI did,â Annette grinned, the excited glint returning in her eyes as she practically bounced on her heel clad fleet, Calumâs grip on her keeping her in place as he let out a small whoa, eyeing her cup warily, though the smile remained present. Annette already knew of Calumâs resolution, since heâd told her yesterday, which was to secure a proper job at the label he currently had an internship at. Annette knew he could do it. He raised his eyebrows expectantly and she pressed a hand to his chest. âI think this is the year when Iâm finally gonna pull out one of the thousands of ideas in my journal and write that damn book.â She poked him, shooting him a knowing, pointed look. âIâve finally got some inspiration.âÂ
Calumâs questioning raised eyebrows turned to surprised, excited ones that mirrored the brightness of Annetteâs grin, her last comment sending his heart into a frenzy like she always did. The thrill she felt over her resolution brought a grin to Calumâs face, knowing that this was something sheâs been wanting to do for a while, and planting the idea was the first step. âSeriously?â Calum grinned, widening so his crinkles appeared and he let out a delighted laugh. âAnnie, thatâs exciting, love.â He gave her a squeeze, eliciting a giggle. âIâm proud of you.â
âProud of me?â Annette repeated with a laugh, tilting her head as she gazed at him, eyes glinting. âI havenât even started. Itâs just a resolution for now.â
âItâs the first step,â he told her firmly, giving her a look that spoke of how much he believed in his words and, more importantly, in her. His grin returned. âI canât wait to read your first draft.â
Annette scoffed. âNo way. Youâll get the final one,â she told him. Calumâs pout and whatever he was about to say next was cut off when everyone started counting down from ten, the announcement of the countdown even beginning something that they both missed. She shot Calum a wink, something that only made him grin as she started, âTen. . . Nine. . .â
Calum shot her a wry grin, though the amusement lit up his dark eyes as he joined in with a teasing roll of his eyes, his hands pressed to her lower back as everyoneâs voices echoed throughout the apartment. The two of them remained by the windows, glancing around to see everyone watching the TV that was playing the ball drop happening live, but Annette had seen it all the timeâhad even gone to it once with Colin and a few friends, a time she didnât like remembering because of the chaosâand she would much rather be looking at her stupidly gorgeous, talented boyfriend.
He gazed down at Annette, the boyish, easy grin on his face finding home whenever she was around. It wasnât at all difficult for Calum to admit to himself how he felt around Annette; she had him wrapped around her finger, and often had him questioning how he even fucking functioned before her. Being with her felt as natural as breathing, and every time Annette walked into the room, it was like coming up for air. All he had to do now was let her know and, unsurprisingly, he wasnât scared.
Five. Annetteâs free hand reached up, brushing away a curl from Calumâs forehead, the smile on her face ever present.
Four. He adored the blue that was just on the outer edges of her otherwise light brown irisesâCalum could never tire of looking at them, framed with long lashes, dancing with a glint he hoped to find the meaning behind.
Three. After she basically ate her lipstick off, Annette made sure to put on Calumâs favorite flavor of her chapstickâwatermelon.
Two. His heart was thundering in his chest, the excitement of the moment getting to him. But Calum knew it mostly had to do with the woman in his arms. It was always because of her.
One. There was so much swimming in his eyes, Annette could tell. So much that was rendering her breathless.
âHappy New Year!â
Their grinning lips met as cheers surrounded them, the entire apartmentâand cityâbursting into celebration as Annette leaned into Calum and the feel of his soft lips against hers. His arms left her waist so his hands could gently cup her cheeks, keeping her close as they commemorated the new year together, both secretly hoping this was just the first of many. It had only been three months, but they were ready for more.
Calum pulled away slowly, forehead still against hers, deaf and uncaring to the party going on around them as the warm of her cheeks tingled at his skin. He opened his eyes, smiling when he noted Annette was already watching him through hooded ones of her own, and the sight of her eyes and dazed smile made it all the more easy for the words to honestly spill out. âI love you.â
It was there. It was out for her to do with as she pleased. Calumâs heart was thundering in his chest but it was for Annette to have, and he felt his stomach twist in mild nervousness as he waited for her response. She didnât even have to say it back, Calum realized, as she stared at him with those pretty eyes taken over with shock and disbelief. As long as she knew how he felt about her, Calum was fine. Because he hadnât been good at this in the past, hadnât been vocal about his feelings enough. And he would be damned if he let the same mistakes get in the way of his relationship with Annette.
Slowly, a smile lifted her lips and Calum watched her, just an inch or so of space between them, hands still on her cheeks as a gentle laugh escaped her. She felt warm under his touch as she mused, âStarting the year off with a bang, huh?â Her words had Calum letting out a breathless laugh, the nervous tinge to it not lost on either of them, and Annetteâs expression softened. She leaned forward, capturing his lips in another gentle, slow kiss that Calum savored, the tension in his stomach easing. He felt himself come undone when Annette whispered back, âI love you too, rockstar.â
She loved him too. Heâd always been able to breathe easily around Annette. Now he felt like he was fucking flying.
Her use of the nickname accompanying the very words he wanted to hear her say had Calum letting out a relieved laugh, pulling his lower lip into his grinning mouth as he stared at Annette. She called him that as if he wasnât just some local performer at some cafe in New York, but Calum would be lying if he said he didnât love it. She made him feel important, and she made him want to be someone who was worthy of how she felt about him.
Annette loved him and he loved her. Theyâd become each otherâs inspirations, unwittingly and unapologeticallyâand Calum was ready to prove he was worthy of that title for her just like she already was for him for as long as sheâd allow him to.
--
tags: @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @valentinelrh @softforcal @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @c-sainthood @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @spideyseavey @imfuckin10plybud @livibii123 @pastelpapermoons @malumharmonies @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @buggy-blogs @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysideblog @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @hzi0 @aulxna @mermaiden004 @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @fluffsshawn @calumculture @sexgodashton
#calum hood#calum hood one shot#calum hood blurb#calum hood blurbs#calum hood imagine#calum hood imagines#calum hood fanfic#calum hood fic#5sos#5 seconds of summer#5sos one shot#5sos fanfic#5sos fic#5sos blurb#5sos blurbs#5sos imagine#5sos imagines#ashton irwin#michael clifford#luke hemmings#calum hood fluff#5sos fluff#luke hemmings one shot#michael clifford one shot#ashton irwin one shot#luke hemmings imagine#michael clifford imagine#ashton irwin imagine#luke hemmings blurb#michael clifford blurb
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Devilâs Bargain - Part 11 - Fix you or break you even more
Summary: Getting the job as Jared Padaleckiâs assistant was a dream coming true until you woke up in a living nightmare. Heâs angry, selfish and possessive. The worst of all - his anger is focused on you. Quitting your job was your only way out - only it wasnât the end of your nightmare...
Pairing: Jared Padalecki x Reader, OFCâs Mark, Brad & Caleb (readerâs brothers), Jensen AcklesÂ
Warnings: angst, language, injured reader, comforting, mentions of miscarriage/sexual assault/physical abuse (not Jared and nothing graphic), protective brothers, violence, blood, mentions of mental health problems (I am not a therapist so bear with me)
PLEASE BE AWARE THIS IS A FANFIC. For the sake of the fic heâs single and an asshole. I still love him, but this fic came to my mind months ago...
Devilâs Bargain Masterlist
The moment Jared is outside of the hospital he feels Markâs fist collide with his face. Pain shoots through his skull be he doesnât fight back.
âFight back, asshole. Are you such a coward? Only able to hurt vulnerable women but you donât stand a chance against a man. Raise your fists, Padalecki.â Mark growls as Caleb and Brad circle Jared.
âI deserve everything you throw at me. You are right, Y/N is right. IâŠI am a monster and I hurt her beyond repair. She saidâŠâ Sniffling Jared feels Markâs fist hit his chin, causing him to stumble backward only for Caleb to push him back toward Mark.
âI was in the army, bastard. I know how to kill a man with my hands for sure.â Mark lies. Truth is he was a doctor helping injured soldiers during his military time, but Jared doesnât need to know. âI will rip you apart.â
âY/N⊠She said that I hurt her that much sheâs as broke as âŠâ Another punch hits Jared and he spits blood to the ground. âAfter ScottâŠâ Now Caleb sees red and balls his hands into fists to hit Jaredâs back.
âYou will never use her name again. Stay away from my sister, lunatic!â Caleb lunges forward, tries to hit Jared but Jensen calls his name and he stops in his tracks.
Blood is dripping down Jaredâs face, but he doesnât care about the blood or pain. All he has on his mind are your words.
âY/N asked me to stop you, guys. Your sister doesnât want you to get arrested. I know you are mad, and I understand you want to hurt Jared some more, but you better stop now.â Jensen tries to interfere but Caleb lands one last punch to Jaredâs eye.
âNow I am done, Ackles. Make sure that piece of shit stays away from our sister or I canât guarantee he will survive.â Brad warns before he stops his brother.
âEnough, Cal, enough Mark. We are going to clean your fists and go back to Y/Nâs room and never even mentioned this man.â
âHow do you feel, baby sis? Are you ready to leave this shitty hospital and go home?â While Mark picks you up to carefully help you into the wheelchair Brad and Caleb grab your bags.Â
âJensen couldnât be here, but he and Danny will visit you as soon as heâs able to get a day off. I made sure we got all your belongings from your apartment and checked on your car.â Explaining your car got totaled Brad tries to distract you from asking questions about Jaredâs whereabouts.
âHeâs gone, Y/N. After we had a serious conversation Jared left and didnât come back. I warned the security and the nurses. They promised to make sure he says away from your room, or rather the hospital.â
âBe honest, Caleb. You threatened the hospital to sue them if they let Jared Padalecki enter the hospital ever again.â Mark laughs as you fist your shirt, not wanting to hear anything about your former boss.
âI just wanted to make sure this is overâŠâ Caleb hands your phone, but you toss it into the bag, not wanting to check on any message or call now. âLetâs get out of here, baby sis.â
Mark is pushing the wheelchair, looking around to find any trace of Jared. While you simply nod as Brad tells you about your prepared room and your shut-down website.
âThanks for shutting it down. I donât feel like helping anyone right now. Maybe Iâll never be able to do so again. I will take Bradâs advice and open a practice again.â Defeated you wipe a few tears away. âI failed, boys. My feelings made me blind to see the truth.â
âThe truth, Y/N?â Mark stops the wheelchair, kneeling next to you to take your hand in his. âTruth is Jared is a selfish bastard.â
âTruth is, Mark.â Taking a deep breath, you squeeze his hand. âJared wouldâve needed professional help.â
While your brother tries to protest you place one finger onto his lips to silence Mark.
âThereâs fear manifested deep inside of him and I brought it out without thinking about consequences. Jared got hurt, just like me. The person he loved and trusted the most betrayed, even blackmailed him.â
âY/N, heâs still an assâŠâ Caleb finds his voice faster than Mark and kneels on the other side of your wheelchair. âHe had no right to do what he did, baby sis.â
âI know you are right, all of you but Jared is like a wounded wild animal. Instead of stitching the wound up and let it heal he place a band-aid onto an infected wound and let it suppurate without changing the band-aid.â
âDo not defend that man! Heâs a monster, not worth your compassion or anything.â Brad steps in, shaking his head furiously.
âBrad, you are all experts for the physical treatment of a patient, I am the one knowing how to help on an emotional and psychological base. What he didâŠâ Trailing off you need to swallow the lump in your throat.
âThat night, Jared escalated as I pushed him too far. I allowed him to get close to me, Brad. I crossed the line between being professional and involving feelings. What Jared did is awful but a good therapist wouldnât have pushed him; a good therapist wouldâve offered a âregularâ therapy.â
âYou are smart and helped over fifty people with your unorthodox methods, Y/N. You let him get close, you feel in loveâŠ? Fuck it!â Caleb exclaims as he looks at his brother. âNo man has the right to hurt you like that only as heâs damaged goods.â
âCaleb is right, baby sis. You got hurt, no beyond hurt by a man and still, you gave Jared a chance to win your heart. He is too blind to see you are a wonderful person. His loss, not yoursâŠâ
Watching your brother help you get out of the wheelchair Jared hides in his car. With shaking fingers, he holds a shirt you forgot in his hands.
Over the last days, he searched your apartment, his house, and his trailer to find anything you left.
âI need to give it backâŠâ Jared whispers as you let Mark pick you up to place you into the backseat. âI need toâŠâ
Six weeks laterâŠ
Standing in front of your childhood home Jared twists your shirt in his hands. He knows he will cross another line but the last weeks made him see he canât imagine a life without you.
âAre you fucking kidding me!â Mark is the first one storming out of the house to grab Jared's shirt, fisting it roughly to glare at the tall actor. âI told you to stay away. Do you want me to call the cops and let them arrest you?â
âI came to her to bring the shirt back. Can I not talk to her for five minutes? I have to tell her I am sorry and thatâŠâ Glaring at Jared Caleb and Brad join his brother, ready to give him another taste of their fists.
âWhat does he want here, Mark?â
âIâŠI am doing therapy again. Over the last weeks, I told my new therapist everything I did, and he suggested to apologize again without holding anything back.â Sniffling Jared gets a piece of paper out, but Mark wonât have it.
Grabbing the letter Mark crumples the paper, dropping it to the ground. âI will tell you one last time to stay away from Y/N. You did enough. She doubts her whole concept for therapy thanks to you sick bastard.â
âI know that I have problems. Months ago, I refused to admit my fears, my uncertainty and that I am not able to trust people. Please tell Y/N she made me see I am a âŠâ Sniffling Jared looks at the piece of paper on the ground.
âSheâs brilliant and no one is a better therapist. I wouldnât be here, doing therapy without her.â
âGreat for you, asshole. Y/N has a traumatic past too. Unlike you, she gave people a chance without using her past to judge you right away.â Brad spats. âDo you have the slightest idea what Scott did to herâŠhuh?â
âNo.â Choking the words out Jared feels a cold river run down his spine. âI know he attacked and abused herâŠâ
âThatâs not all.â This time Caleb steps closer, looking at Jared with angry eyes. âFor two years he hurt her. Y/N tried to hide the bruises, cuts and all. Sheâs a good person, a great therapist and tried to help Scott, even tho he hurt her.â
âOne day, he pushed her too far and Y/N waited for him to leave for work. My sister, she called me, and I picked her up, drove her to the hospital.â
Wiping a single tear away Brad gets an ultrasound picture out to show it Jared. âThat day, she told him about the baby and still, he slapped her face, even punched her nose.â
âThatâsâŠâ Gasping Jared nods as Mark glares at him, asking for silence till your brothers are done. âAwfulâŠâ
âYes, it is, Padalecki.â Mark spats as Brad composes himself.
âY/N told me about the baby and my brothers, and I helped her find an apartment. A few weeks passed and we all believed Scott is gone for good.â Placing the ultrasound picture back into his wallet Brad sniffles silently.
âBrad and I were out of town at that time. We werenât around andâŠâ Calebâs voice cracks and Mark must take the lead as so often.
âShe was alone at home, had a day off. Someone knocked at her door and she believed itâs me as we wanted to have lunch. I was late andâŠâ Markâs hands start shaking and he let go of Jaredâs shirt. âI came half an hour too late and I will hate myself for it for the rest of my life.âÂ
âMark, that wasnât your fault back then. If not that day, he wouldâve tried any other day. No one couldâve known Scott would go after Y/N or do such a thing.â Caleb tries to calm his brother, soothe him but Mark feels guilty and this will never change.
âI opened the door and heard someone whimper. When I entered the bedroom, I found Y/N on the floor. Her face was swollen, her wrists black and blue. She was lying on the floor, naked and there was so much blood running down her legs.â Markâs voice trembles as he meets Jaredâs eyes.
âGodâŠI am so sorryâŠâÂ
âI donât care if you are sorry or not, Jared. That man entered her apartment, or rather forced entrance and hit my sister. She begged him to go, to not hurt his baby but Scott had other things planned. That monster violated my sister to remind her heâs the only man allowed to touch her but he didnât stop there. He hit her hard enough to cause a miscarriage.â
âStill, she tried to help me only for her to get hurt once again. I know this means nothing to you or your sister, but I see now that I have problems.â Jared picks the piece of paper up, glancing at the door as you slowly walk out of the house.
âBoys, give me two minutes.â Voice self-confident you look at your brothers and they reluctantly walk into the house, glaring at Jared before closing the door.
âY/N, I am so sorry. What I did is unforgivable, I know that, but I wanted to tell you that I am doing therapy now and that you made me see I need to stop hurting people to feel better. Please believe me that I am terribly sorry for hurting you.â Placing the piece of paper into your hand Jared sniffles silently. âCan we notâŠâ
âNo, Jared. You are in the middle of a therapy and we both know you are no good for me, and I am no good for you. I know you believe coming here to tell me how you feel will help meâŠbut it doesnât.â Stuffing the piece of paper into your pocket you look up at Jared.
âPlease, at least tell me I can see you again, even if itâs only one dayâŠâ Jaredâs eyes fill with tears as you give him a cracked smile.
âYou hurt me, Jared. Not with your words and the things you did while you believed I am your assistant. I am used to my patients to treat me like that butâŠâ
Blinking a few tears away you clear your throat. âYou made me believe you like me, and I let you touch me. You were the first man after what Scott didâŠâ
âOHâŠY/N.â Jared tries to cup your cheek, but you take a step back, shaking your head. âSorryâŠI shouldnât haveâŠâ
âYeah, Jared. You shouldnât have done this to me. I hate you, and I love you and that makes me hate you even more. You canât come here and believe the world is spinning again only as you are sorry. I want you to leave nowâŠpleaseâŠâ
âI love you too and I promise to become a better man, to be myself again one day.â Jared squeezes your shirt tightly, looking at you one last time. âCan I call you one day?â
âWiping a few tears away you give Jared a cracked smile. âMaybe one day I do not hate you anymore but not yet, JaredâŠâ
âNot yetâŠâ Jared whispers as you walk toward the house, not looking back. âMaybe one day I can fix you instead of breaking you even more...â
SPN Forever Tags
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@moosekateer13âââ, @thevelvetseriesââ, @train-wreccâ
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@bitchwhythoâ, @babygirls-favâ, @the-soulofdevilâ, @albinotigerpythonââ, @squirrelnotsamââ, @i-am-a-mesââ, @aubageddon91ââ, @jessiejunebugâ, @thebooksoverthemoviesââ, @rebeq88-samwâÂ
#Devilâs Bargain Masterlist#SPN#spn fanfiction#Supernatural RPF#RPF#spn rpf#rpf fanfic#Jared Padalecki#jared padalecki fanfiction#jared x reader#jared x you#jared padalecki x reader#jared padalecki x you#jared padalecki series#Jensen Ackles
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My Responsibility (c.h.)
an: so after a gentle push to write again, I went through my incomplete works and finished one off. I like it a lot. Also, donât flame me for improper âbodyguard procedureâ or whatever
 BODY GUARD!CAL AU
People always said life was the hardest thing anyone could ever do, and while Teddie supposed it was quite true, life was a hell of a lot easier when you were royalty. After a day filled with shopping, spa treatments, and mani-pedis, she was actually pretty tired when she arrived back at the palace. So, when her fatherâs adviser told her that her father would like to see her in his office, she sighed deeply and dumped her bags into the nearest workerâs arms. Her day was about to get a lot less relaxing. She had known this would be coming when she slipped out of the house in her Audi this morning but had done it nonetheless. That didnât stop her from dragging her feet all the way to the office, though. Her father had his back to Teddie as she stepped into the room, but she knew the look on his face would be disappointed. Â She was proved right as the King turned around, buttoning his suit up.
âDarling.â Teddieâs father sighed, easing himself down into his high backed leather chair. He shuffled some papers around on his desk for a minute before speaking again. âYouâve turned into quite the headache.â
âWhatever do you mean, father?â Teddie played dumb, knowing full and well what he meant. But when bodyguards were as dumb as hers, it was almost too easy. And way too fun.
âTheodora Arabella, my love, we both know exactly what I am speaking of.â Teddie flopped into a chair, exhaling loudly. She hated her name, but her father, ever the king, couldnât even remove the stick from his ass for two seconds. Ridiculous.
âIâm sorry father. But you know how I feel about this subject. Is it really necessary to have a fifteen personal security detail?â Theodora massaged her temples, also getting a headache. At this point, it wasnât even worth it to her to leave the palace.
âI understand, darling. Which is why Iâve talked it over with Mr. Clyde, and weâve agreed to narrow the fifteen down to four.â The King watched his daughterâs face positively light up. As his daughter and the sole heiress to the kingdom, he was nervous with the decision. But Clyde had assured him that these four men were the best of the best.
âNow then. Should you try to escape from under their watch, even once, it will go back to the fifteen person detail. Are we clear?â The King took his glasses off and gave his daughter a meaningful stare. He loved his daughter more than his kingdom, which was saying quite a bit for the king. Still, there was much to take into consideration with this decision. The kingdom was on the edge of war, and while it did have some powerful allies, a royal assassination would be costly to the kingdom.
âCrystal, Father.â Teddie was already bouncing up and down on her heels, a bundle of energy ready to explode. This was more than she could have ever hoped for, more than she had ever dreamt of. Teddie figured she would never even get down to ten bodyguards, much less four. She quickly ran around the large oak desk and threw her arms around her father before he could react. Maybe Teddie wasnât the huggy-huggy type of person, but she felt an exception was due just this once.
Teddie turned and hurried out of her fatherâs office, her head down and phone already in her hands. She could not wait to call Victoria and tell her all about this. She was sure that Victoria would combust, much like Teddie felt she had. Teddie took two steps down the hallway and immediately ran into something. It was broad and hard and⊠warm? Teddie didnât care at the moment, instead scrambling to get her phone, which she had dropped when she had hit the ground.
âFucking HELL!â Teddie was seething, utterly pissed off. Her phone had cracked. Her brand new phone was cracked. She looked up ready to destroy whatever she had run into, ready to tear it to shreds with her bare hands. Instead, she found herself looking into a pair of eyes so dark they seemed to be looking at her soul.
âPrincess Theodora. My apologies.â The man grabbed her arm to steady her, but Teddie ripped it away from him. Who the hell did this idiot think he was?
âYour apologies are damn right. What department do you work for? Tell me who was dumb enough to hire such a clumsy oaf.â Teddie was a good half a foot shorter than the man, but that wasn't near enough to intimidate her. Neither was his jawline so sharp that it could cut her, nor his rich dark curls that were a little too long in the most endearing way possible. Nope, not intimidating.
âSecurity. Allow me to introduce myself.â The man seemed to be trying to hide the smirk that was growing on his plump lips. Teddieâs eye started twitching with realization. She groaned internally, praying she was wrong. âCalum Hood. The new head of your security detail.â
Teddie said nothing. Instead, she brushed past Hood and hurried as quickly as she could in her stilettos to her chambers. Once there, she slammed the door shut. Buried her face in a pillow. And screamed.
Teddie awoke the next morning to a fantastic headache and a horrible recollection of yesterdayâs event. All Teddie really wanted to do was go die in a hole somewhere. However, she had made plans to go to lunch with Victoria and her father was constantly spouting some shit about âa princess was nothing if not punctual,â so she dragged herself from her den of cashmere blankets and down pillows and started to prepare herself to face the day. And Calum Hood. She honestly couldnât say which she dreaded more.
___
âIâm telling you, it was awful!â Teddie was talking animatedly with her hand, clearly distressed. She hadnât fully recovered from her little incident yesterday, and she wasnât sure she ever was going to be able to. All she really wanted to do was get out on the water and go surfing for a little bit. It had been a while since she had been on her board, but at this point, the longer she went without rushing into the breaking waves, the more strain she put on her mental health. Surfing had always been a way for her to relax and unwind, which was greatly needed due to the stress of being a princess. September was starting to creep up on her, and while her country was generally pretty warm year round, the ocean could be cold and unforgiving. Teddie was planning to spend as much time as possible in the ocean while she still could.
âNo, yeah I get it.â Teddie watched as Victoria took a patronizing sip of her coffee. âBut, also I donât.â
Teddie just sighed and looked back out the window. Okay, maybe she was exaggerating how dire the situation was, but only by a little. It was already bad enough that she had run into him and then proceeded to act like an unchecked bitch princess, but did Calum really have to go and be that hot?
âAnywho, have you decided what youâre wearing to your ball in a few weeks?â Teddie wiggled her eyebrows at Victoria. Victoria was turning twenty-one in a few weeks, so of course she was going all out on a ball for herself. Teddie was excited for her best friend, having known her since they were both children, immune to the atrocities this world offered. Teddie wasnât ever one to dwell on the past, but recently she had found herself thinking about those times more and more often. She and Victoria were easily entertained as children, often playing dress-up with their mothersâ pearls or hide and go seek in their favorite sections of the castle. Teddie never realized it until she was older, but she smiled at all the parallels her childhood ran compared to that of a normal childhood. Maybe they couldnât ever return to the simplicity that their childhood was made up of, but Teddie was still grateful to be able to grow up next to such a genuine person next to a world of people merely trying to befriend her for their own self gain.
âWouldnât you like to know?â Victoria bobbled her head at Teddie and made a smart-ass face. Teddie cocked an eyebrow and gave Victoria a look that said it all. âIf you keep making that face, youâll get wrinkles.â
Teddie gasped daintily, throwing them both into a round of giggles. Neither Teddie nor Victoria had ever cared about all the princess bullshit like smile lines and matching their earrings to their shoes, but they both had a good time laughing about all the false stereotypes. âYou know, itâs going to be pretty embarrassing when the belle of the ball shows up matching her best friend.â
This time, it was Victoriaâs turn to gasp. âYou wouldnât dare.â
âOh, but I would.â Teddie skipped ahead on the sidewalk where they were strolling and turned back to face Victoria tauntingly. Victoria tipped her head back and let out a laugh, pleasing Teddie. âHey, Iâm going surfing later. Care to join?â
âCanât. My dad is dragging me to some meeting or charity event or something. I can never keep track of all that shit.â
Teddie grunted in agreeance, forgoing words. Victoria's comment, although offhanded and a complaint, had sent Teddie down a rabbit hole of thought. In a few short years, her father was planning to retire, which in turn would place the crown and the future of the kingdom in her own hands. Sure, she would have advisors and dukes and generals to guide her, but she was still in charge. She would be making all of those decisions herself. Teddie could hear Victoria chattering on in the background, but Teddie was only half listening. Soon enough Teddie herself would be leading the meetings and charity events they had always despised. The thought alone was enough to make Teddie run away and never come back. She was sipping her coffee thoughtfully when she felt a rough hand set fire to the nerves on her back. She already knew who it was even without turning.
âWe probably need to be heading out, your highness.â Â Calumâs breath was warm as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, gently brushing the few blonde strands of her hair out of the way. Then he stopped walking, so Teddie led Victoria just out of earshot to say her goodbyes. It took them only moments, seeing as they had more plans to hang out over the span of the next few weeks leading up to Victoriaâs party. Teddie took a deep breath, taking a moment to steady herself before advancing towards Calum. As soon as she reached him, he fell into step right next to her, a broad hand spanning across her upper back. She shivered slightly under his touch, her body unaware of how to react to his touch, or any manâs touch for that matter. She had gone on a few dates of course, and she was by no means innocent, but Teddie was a bit unexperienced in the romantic aspect of life. Her parents had set her up on a couple dates with âpotential suitors,â as they called them, but, in Teddieâs unbiased opinion, they had all been uptight, selfish pricks. AKA, not her type. Teddie was indifferent to all of the dates, letting her parents waste their time with the pointless endeavors. She just told her parents that they just didnât have a leadership quality or they didnât have the right mindset to rule, when in fact, the quality they lacked was basic human compassion and respect. Teddie wrapped herself up in her thoughts, letting her eyes glaze over and her expression go blank. She had nothing to say to anybody in the car, and she didn't think that they were particularly interested in starting up a conversion with her, either. Which happened to be why Teddie jumped a little when Calum spoke up in that gruff baritone voice of his.
âCan I help you?â Calum looked utterly unhappy. Teddie wasnât sure why, seeing as his only job was babysitting a grown woman. After thinking about it for a few seconds, she realized that she had never seen him without his dark eyebrows knit together and the small scowl on his face. She pursed her lips, figuring that maybe it was just his face. Teddie couldnât blame him for this, seeing as she also fell victim to resting bitch face syndrome.
âWhat?â Teddie cocked her head at Calum. She lowered her eyebrows in confusion, not exactly up for just having a chat with the man sitting across from her. Yeah, he could help her. Help her by doing his job and staying out of her way.
âYou were staring at me.â Calum was blunt. Teddie was somewhat grateful, seeing as he didnât mince his words or use too many of them, but she was still a little taken aback by them. Even if she had been staring at him, which she denied, she didnât see why he had to get his panites in a wad about it. A few of her last fifteen bodyguards had been quite the chatterboxes and she had despised the majority of her time with them, preferring the silence to any sort of conversation.
âI was not. I was merely thinking.â Calum looked like he was about to say more, but Teddie just turned and directed her gaze out the window, effectively cutting him off. She wasnât ready to bare her soul to her bodyguard just yet, nor did she feel like arguing with him, either. Instead she tried to steer her thought towards simpler topics, like what she would wear to Victoriaâs gala, and which shoes would match which dress. All she really wanted to do was get into her wet suit and breakout her board. Which is exactly what she did as soon as the car pulled into the driveway at the castle. She was out of the car and up the first couple steps leading up to the large oak double doors before the car had even come to a complete stop. She began stripping before even shutting the door to her room all the way, anxious to work out her stressors of the day by dipping into the water and breaking the waves. The rhythmic lapping of the waves crashing against each other had a subtle calming effect on Teddie, helping her rationalize even the toughest of decisions.
As soon as she splashed into the warm salty water and felt the tickle of seaweed on her skin, Teddie took a moment to inhale deeply, smelling the ocean scent mix with the aroma floating off of the wild jasmine that grew along the shoreline. Things were both much more simple and extraordinarily more complicated than they seemed. Â Still she chose to focus on her board technique rather than her actual issues.
While she was by no means a professional, Teddie had gotten rather good at surfing over the years, mainly due to the sheer amount of time she spent relaxing on her board. For the majority of her time spent in the water, Teddie was barely even surfing. She was content for the large portion of her time to just relax on her board, watching the sun dip into the horizon. Teddie was out on the ocean for the rest of the day, but still painfully aware of her bodyguard brigade standing stiff as rails out on the beach. Teddie sighed to herself, extremely uncontent.
Calum Hood.
He was the biggest issue weighing on her mind at the moment, but she was actually quite happy with that resolution. Teddie figured if the biggest problems she was having were over a guy, then she was probably in a pretty good place in life. Still, that didnât prevent her from staying on the water until the waves lapping against her skin crept closer to freezing and the sun dipped into the horizon. Teddie sighed, knowing sheâd have to squeeze any surfing she wanted to accomplish into her already packed schedule over the upcoming weeks. With a little less than a month to her party, Victoria was kind of starting to panic, fretting about every little detail. Teddie was usually one of the only people who was able to reach her friend during those episodes, soothing her and trying to get her to breathe.
Teddie smirked a little as she thought of her somewhat panicky friend. Sure, Victoria was a lot sometimes, but the pair had been through a lot with each other, including going off to college together in the states. Those short four years had been some of the best of her life, and while they had passed a bit too quickly for the girlsâ taste, Teddie knew that they would visit the small coastal town in Carolina where they had attended college as often as they could. It was then Teddie knew the perfect present for Victoriaâs birthday.
___
âNo.â Calum stood leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and his signature scowl plastered across his face. This was dumb. No, come to think of it, everything was dumb. Cal was seriously considering quitting his job at the palace right here and now.
âI wasnât asking.â Teddie didnât bother to look up at Cal from where she was sitting on the plush couch situated against the far wall of her apartment. Bedroom, Cal meant, although they were practically one and the same. Teddie kept typing away on her MacBook, the clicking of the keys soothing in Calâs ears.
âThat may be, your highness, but as the head of your security team, I reserve the right to tell you no. The right to tell you that going on an ice cream run at three-thirty in the morning is too great a risk.â Cal could hear the sarcasm dripping off his words, but he really couldnât help it. The princess may have been attractive, but she clearly didnât have much going on up top.
âLook, itâll take two seconds. In and out.â Teddie shut her laptop matter of factly and stood up. She stretched for a minute, placing her hands all the way above her head and leaning back a little. Calum was careful to look nonchalant as he averted his gaze, acting impervious to the strip of skin she revealed as she stretched. Cal knew he couldnât cave. He shouldnât cave. He. Would. Not. Cave.
It was less a minute later that Calum found himself scrambling down the hallways of the castle, chasing the princess. She was giggling as she ran, enjoying the sounds of his footsteps behind her and taunting him as they both ran. She was a hell of a lot faster than he had anticipated, and despite him being the head of her security team, Calum was starting to suspect that she could probably lap him if she wanted. He couldnât help the smirk that tugged on the corners of his lips, so he rolled them into his mouth. The smile was still evident in the lines around his eyes, though. At one point, Teddie turned around and ran backwards throwing out taunts and breathtaking smiles like candy at one of her parades. Once again, Calum knew he was going down a rabbit hole that he should have avoided, but he couldnât help thinking that she was really living up to all the Disney princess stereotypes of being beautiful and kind and sweet.
Teddie knew she was dipping her feet into dangerous waters. Running along the hallways with Calum, teasing him, reveling in childish glee. She really hadnât expected him to cave at all, much less at the speed that he did. He wasnât the only one with a weak resolve, though. She had scolded herself thoroughly the first time she realized she was interested in him, and now here she was, teasing him as they skipped down the hallways of the castle alone together. Still, she was getting her ice cream, and that was what was important. She turned as she reached the parking area, and jangled the keys in her hand at Calum. Her way of telling him that she would be driving and not slowly, either.
As he watched the princess clamber into the car from the open window, rather than just opening the door, Cal knew he should probably call for an escort. Or even just tell someone where they were going. Yet, as he reached for his phone, he realized that he just plain didnât want to. Calum wanted to share the moment with Theodora and wanted her to share it with him only. He was no longer ashamed to admit that he was jealous, instead turning the jealousy into a fierce passion to protect the princess.
âPrincess Theodora, if I may-â Calum was about to ask her about her plans for the gala coming up, whether she had selected the people who would accompany her or not, when she cut him off. Her words were sharp, much like her driving as she took another reckless corner.
âYou canât. Call me Teddie.â Teddie was straight faced as she spoke, a clear indicator of how serious she was. Teddie had always hated her name, despised it in fact. Although, she did give kudos to her parents. âTheodora Arabellaâ did have a very regal ring to it.
âAlright, Teddie it is then.â Calum relaxed in his seat a little, tasting the name on his tongue. It was delicate yet intimidating much like Teddie herself. Cal got a little lost in her name in his mouth, failing to realize she hadnât put on her seatbelt. Teddie just reached over and turned to music up, the bass pounding in Calumâs ears. Cal finally noticed that she wasnât wearing her seatbelt when Teddie threw both of her hands in the air and jammed out to the music reverberating throughout the car, leaving Cal to reach over and grab the steering wheel to keep them on the road.
âFor fuckâs sake woman, put your damn seat belt on.â Cal had never felt more stressed in his entire life. This princess would be the death of him.
___
âI cannot believe this.â Ashton ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up in all sorts of angles. He loved his best friend, but sometimes he just didnât understand the man. Who lets their princess go out for ice cream at two in the morning? With only one security detail? And lets her drive, muchless at breakneck speeds without a seatbelt?
âIt happened. Let it go.â Calum was over this conversation. More so, he was over Ashton continually reminding him of his somewhat shameful actions. He didnât regret them, though. No matter what happened, he wouldnât change a single thing about that night. Listening to her ramble, watching her hair whip in the wind as she rolled the top down, seeing her grinning from ear to ear with her ice cream. Calum was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them.
âWhatever. The princess turned in her detail request form.â Ash was already in the doorway of the room as he spoke, turning his head halfway around to speak to Calum once more. âLooks like youâre going solo with her.â
Calum breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it was childish for him to get jealous over such a simple thing, much less jealous this quickly, but he was still relieved nonetheless. Right as Cal finished lacing up his boot, his phone buzzed with a notification. He glanced down at it without paying much attention before snatching it up hurriedly. It was just a simple text, but it was enough to get his adrenaline flowing and his body moving on autopilot.
Calumâs mind was racing as fast as his legs, pumping his arms trying to get any ounce of speed he could. Curse this damn castle, itâs hallways practically a never ending labyrinth. The security rooms were almost on the other side of the castle, and, more than that, her quarters were at the very end of the wing that they resided inside. As soon as Teddieâs door entered Calâs line of sight, he was hit with a final burst of motivation and adrenaline.
Calum practically busted down the door, entering the room with a bang. He whipped his head around wildly, desperately searching for Teddie. When he couldn't find her in the main room, his heart dropped and his instincts kicked in, alerting Ash that something was wrong. He ran into her bathroom, still searching wildly. With every second he couldnât find her more and more panic set in. How had she escaped? Had she escaped? What if she was taken?
Cal was about to shut down the entire castle when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Cal whipped around, smacking the arm off his shoulder as he did so, only to look directly into the forest-hued eyes he so desperately loved. Teddie glanced at him questioningly, the look on her face saying whatâs-your-issue?
Cal, however, refused to say anything. Instead he placed his hands on her bathroom sink and took a deep breath, his knuckles going a bit white from gripping the porcelain so tightly. Cal squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to refrain from strangling the princess. After deciding that his feelings werenât worth assassination, Cal called off the security threat and turned to face the princess.
âWhat were you thinking?â Cal barely gritted the words out without screaming at her. Usually he felt like he kept a pretty good handle on his emotions, but when it came to the princess, Cal found that pretty much all the rules went straight out the window.
âWhat? I just asked you to come here?â Teddie acted completely innocent, instead wondering why Calum was all worked up and sweaty. She stood there while he glared at her, not even flinching, although she did find it quite hilarious when his nostril flared out in anger. Teddie rolled her lips into her mouth in an effort to keep from smiling. She was one hundred percent positive that if they had been in a cartoon, Calum would have had steam billowing out of his ears.
âYou texted me, and I quote, âplease come here as fast as you can im so so scared pleaseâ!â Calum was surprised to find that his voice was still steady; he sure as hell wasnât. Calum had been a part of the princessâ security team for all of a month and yet, he knew he was practically whipped for her already. When had he lost his spine?
âAnd I am!â Teddie had sent that text in all seriousness. She was actually in a bit of a crisis, and while it didnât quite make sense, she knew the only opinion she wanted on the matter was Calumâs. Teddie looked deeply into his eyes and grabbed his sinewy arm, dragging him into her closet. Once there, Teddie stopped in front of the two dresses she had selected out of her extensive wardrobe. âWhich one?â
âWhat?â Cal was dumbfounded. He was honestly in a state of true disbelief. He knew, he knew that Teddie had not seriously called him all the way down here in a panic only to have her say that she needed help choosing a dress.
âWhich one? Câmon I canât decide!â Teddie stamped her foot impatiently and crossed her arms. She was not exactly patient when it came to this sort of thing. Politics, yes. Fashion, no. Her two gowns were both brand new, designer of course, but she loved both of them too much just to choose. Plus, she looked sexy as hell in both, so no matter which she chose, the dress would do her right. She stared at the dresses, not noticing that Calum was about to burst a blood vessel. She ran her hand over the dark material of the first dress, finding the silk cool against her skin.
âI donât know?â Cal rubbed his hand over his face. The princess was really trying his patience. âListen, Iâm sure youâll look beautiful in whichever you choose, okay?â
And then Cal froze. What had he done? Well, actually he knew what he did; he just didnât know how Teddie would react. Cal wanted to evaporate into thin air then and there. He was a bodyguard, and here he was falling for the princess, flirting with her. Had he lost his damn mind? Cal just chose to keep his hand glued to his face, feigning annoyance. After a moment of silence from Teddie, Cal worked up the nerves to glance over at her, only to find her lost in her own little word, smiling as she ran her hand over the pink silky material. Cal mentally breathed a sigh of relief, more than thankful that Teddie had apparently not heard him. He muttered a quiet excuse to leave and slipped out of the room, trying to save himself from any further embarrassment.
Beautiful. Calum had called her beautiful. Okay, maybe he had inadvertently called her beautiful, but the sentiment was still there. Teddie had noticed Cal glancing over at her to see if sheâd react (the man wasnât as subtle as he thought), but she had contained her glee to a small smile that still managed to reach her eyes. Maybe her dad would be unhappy with her decision to only take Cal to Victoriaâs ball, but she knew it was the right one to make. Sheâd deal with her consequences later, after what she was planning to be one of the best nights of her life.
__
Teddie didnât know how, but she had fallen for Calum. Actually, more like willingly threw herself down a flight of stairs for Calum, but that was beside the point. As she watched him dust the freshly spilled flour off his black turtleneck that clung to his muscular chest, Teddie reminded herself to go hug her father again for setting her up with this blessing.
âRemind me again why youâre making these yourself instead of having one of your many available chefs make them?â Calum sighed, giving up on getting all of the flour off of his sweater. It was completely unprofessional to walk around looking like he had partially bleached his shirt, but that was a hazard of the job he supposed.
âBecause the entire point of making homemade chocolate chip cookies is to make them yourself, dork.â Teddie squinted her eyes at the man, the look on her face saying how completely obvious that should have been. She continued to scoop the dough out and form it into little balls, continually pushing up the sleeves of the chunky forest-hued sweater she was wearing, before sliding the tray into the oven. She, too, had flour dusting her sweater and a touch on her chin, but unlike calum, she didnât care. To Teddie, spilling flour or whatever was just part of the experience.
âI see.â Calum said nothing else, instead just standing there stoically. There were a few issues with him being with Teddie while she was making said cookies, the first of which being that he was supposed to be at home today and he knew that if any of the boys caught him here, they would know everything. His second issue was also that he was supposed to be going on a date tonight, but instead, was once again here with Teddie. However, the third issue, and quite possibly the biggest one, was that watching Teddie, dumb flour-spattered Teddie, make these dumb cookies and lecture him about the experience was making him fall even further in love with her. It was also making him admit that he was in love with her in the first place.
Teddie had issues. Not only was she unable to surf as often because of the weather getting colder, but the true problem with that was now she had no way to blow off steam, anxiety. Sexual needs. Teddie hadnât been surfing in a few days which meant that she was bound to do something stupid anytime now. Such as reaching up and brushing some of the flour off of Calumâs jawline. As soon as her thumb grazed Calâs skin, she knew that things could only go downhill from there, or uphill depending on how she looked at it. Teddieâs hand lingered on Calumâs face, not wanting to lose the feeling of the warmth of his skin on hers. They stood there for a moment before Calum took a small step towards her, closing the gap between them.
As soon as Teddie felt Calumâs breath hit her face, she knew that she wanted this. Wanted him.
âWould you be okay if I kissed you right now?â Teddie wasnât sure how Calum felt, only how she felt. It was a tad difficult to decipher his feelings, since Teddie was pretty sure Cal was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome with a splash of stoic thrown in. Still, Teddie had never been timid, and she figured that the worst could happen was that she was rejected. Who needed constant love and approval, anyways?
âAre you sure that you want this?â Cal wanted her. Cal wanted her more than anything. But Cal also knew that Teddie would ascend to the throne, and for that, she would need a king to rule beside her. Calum didnât want for them to tangle their feelings into a knot that would be impossible to separate without cutting it.
Teddie decided to respond by pressing her lips to Calumâs, cupping his neck with one hand and his cheek with the other. Calum wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her closer until they were pressed against each other. The kiss was passionate and hungry, but neither of them was particularly interested in taking it any further at this point. Together, the two of them got lost in each other, exploring each otherâs tastes and scents. Teddie was insanely excited to find that she was almost the perfect height for Cal, neither of them having to crane their necks in order for their lips to meet. They were lost in their own little world for an indefinite amount of time, but as soon as Cal found his lips trailing closer to her neck, they both heard a loud alarm go off.
âMy cookies!â Teddie gasped and detangled herself from Calum, rushing over to extract the treats from the oven before they burned. Maybe Teddie wasnât great at following the rules, but she always followed recipes to a T.
Cal chuckled at her panic and leaned himself against one of the counters, watching her carefully examine every cookie. âSo are we gonna talk about it?â
Teddie threw him a sideways glance, the majority of her attention still focused on her treats. âYeah, alright. Iâm not interested in just hooking up, so if thatâs all you have to offer, then I think Iâll be better off alone.â
Calum raised his eyebrows, sort of taken off guard at her tone and words. Although, he couldnât say he was completely surprised. Teddie was never one to sugarcoat her feelings or words. âNo.â
âNo, what, asshole?â Teddie wasnât about to play games with Calum. Her feelings were not the place for him to show just how stoic and broody he was.
âNo, itâs not just a hookup. I want this. If youâll let me have it, of course.â
âSo youâre a sub, hmm?â Teddie couldnât help it. Calum, for once in his life, looked soft and vulnerable and Teddie knew damn well this would be her first and only opportunity to see that side of him. And make fun of it. From the look on Calumâs face, she would never get to see him ask for permission again, but it was well worth it.
âBaby girl, you have no clue.â Calum walked over to where Teddie was standing, lifted her onto the counter and marked her right then and there. Where no one could see it, of course.
___
After the life he had led, Cal was absolutely positive that the whole karma theory was bullshit. There was no way in hell that he deserved anyone even a fourth as beautiful as Teddie. Or a tenth as wonderful. She was firey and passionate, as she demonstrated time and time again, and everything Calum wished he could have been. So when he saw Teddie ascend the steps into the ballroom, Calum almost fainted. Internally, of course. He had a reputation as a tall and stoic badass to uphold. Still, people couldnât see his heart stop. She was radiant, far and away the most beautiful woman in the gala. Probably the world, but Cal figured he was a tad biased. Her creamy skin was glowing against the deep turquoise silk of her dress. So it was no wonder he couldnât keep her eyes off of her for the rest of the night. Luckily enough, that was his job.
___
After a week of late night hookups and hickeys, Teddie was exhausted in the best way possible. Maybe she had said that she wasnât just a hookup when she and Calum had first gotten together, but he made it so damn hard to resist giving in. To be able to say no. Which was why she was in her own little word at Victoriaâs gala the next night. Instead of partying all night and drinking until she couldnât feel like Teddie had planned, she was instead daydreaming about Calum and barely sipping her champagne. Victoria caught on quickly, but Teddie wasn't surprised about that either. She wasnât exactly being discreet about it.
âAlright, spill.â Victoria crossed her arms and demanded to know what Teddie was so lost about.
âSpill what?â Teddie knew what. However, she figured she might as well try to feign ignorance. They certainly didnât have time to unpack everything that had transpired over the last few weeks.
ââSpill what?ââ Victoria mocked Teddie, tired of the games. She was desperate to know what had put such a spell on her best friend. âCâmon. Itâs my birthday. You have to tell me.â
Teddie smiled without realising it, the mere thought of Cal making her feel warm in more places than one. After a bit more coaxing, she told Victoria everything that happened over the past few days. Teddie felt her smile grow the more the spoke about Calum, Victoriaâs expression matching her own. Despite being cripplingly alone herself, Victoria was happy that Teddie had found someone that made her so happy. And Victoria told her as much, ensuring that Teddie knew how happy she was for her. Victoria brought Teddie in for a tight hug, in that moment not giving one shit about wrinkling her dress, or messing up her hair, or anything else that she had fretted about for all those weeks. Teddie and Victoria stood there silent and happy, just looking into each other's eyes in a minute of happiness and friendship. For that moment, everything was perfect.
Then Teddie watched Victoriaâs eyes go wide as a loud bang filled the room. It was like a blast to Teddieâs ears, making everything go silent. Then everything started ringing and Teddie felt a warm liquid splatter her face and arms. Teddie couldnât do anything as she watched Victoriaâs body go limp and sink to the floor, unable to even breathe. Teddie knew what was happening, fully aware of everything going on around her, but she still couldnât do anything about it. The ringing was still there, but it had subsided enough for Teddie to hear someone screaming. She wanted to tell whoever it was to stop, but then Teddie realized that she was the one who was screaming. Yet, she still couldnât stop. The liquid was still on her body, dripping down into her eyes. Teddie knew she should have run, taken cover, anything. But once again, she was still frozen in place.
Suddenly, Teddie felt a presence collide with her body, pinning her to the ground. Gunshots continued to fill the room, still muffled in Teddieâs ears.
âTeddie. Teddie. Focus, Teddie. Câmon, doll. Focus on me for a sec.â Teddie was still in a daze as a gruff australian voice called out to her. Still, the entire situation felt unreal to her, like she wasnât in her own body. She tried, though. Teddie gave her all into focusing on the man she loved. As she felt Calâs hands support her head and turn it towards his own, Teddie was able to meet Calâs eyes. âWe need to go. I need you to run, okay?â
When Teddie nodded, Calum wasted no time getting them off the floor and sprinting towards the door. Even though Teddie had only requested Calum for the night, he had still made the executive decision to bring along the rest of her detail. Ash and Luke flanked them as Michael provided cover fire in the direction the bullets had been flying from. They were so close, almost to the door, when Calum felt a wave of fire rippling throughout his body. Still, he kept running. Or he tried to, at least. His brain was telling his legs to move, keeping going, but his body refused to obey. Instead he collapsed, waving on the others even as Ash tried to turn back for him. Calum, however, understood the responsibility of the job. He also knew that his own life was so unimportant compared to Teddieâs. Especially to him. She was his number one priority not because she was the princess, but because she was his princess. As Cal watched the love of his life and two of his best friends recede through the doors safely, he took a deep breath, finally relieved.
___
Teddie hadnât moved in hours. At least, she thought it had been hours. Maybe it had been minutes, maybe it had been days. Teddie had no clue, but she also didnât have the energy to care. Two of the people she cared about most in the world had been shot, and while Teddie had escaped unscathed, her emotions and ability to function had absolutely been torn to shreds. Still, her closest assistants had been a godsend, helping her through the motions she needed to get through in order to feel even a touch human. Still, even though she had showered and managed to change into different clothes, Teddie could feel the ghost of Victoriaâs blood haunting her skin. She didnât want to feel, didnât want to think. All she wanted was peace and quiet and to be able to forget everything.
Eventually, Teddie took to wondering the halls, done with being coddled and constantly surrounded by people trying to âhelpâ her. After a few minutes of aimless wandering, Teddie found her feet carrying her towards the med bay of the castle. She wasnât sure why, but Teddie knew that she needed to see it. To see the aftermath of everything that had happened.
Teddie stepped into mini hospital and the doctor recognized her as the princess immediately, giving her a sympathetic smile before retreating into their office and leaving Teddie to her own devices. Teddie was surprised to find the majority of the medical bay unchanged from the last time she had been in there years ago. Still, because the section was relatively small, she found who she was looking for almost instantly. They still werenât awake from the anesthesia from the surgery, so Teddie just took a seat on the chair next to them, gathering their hand into her own. It was mere moments before Teddie saw a pair of dark eyes crack open and meet her own, and as soon as they did, Teddie felt fat tears of mourning ripple down her face.
âI know.â Calum hated himself. He hated himself for all the pain she had to go through, for not being there for her, for not being more careful. As he watched the tears roll down her face, Cal was so painfully aware that there was nothing he could do for her. To ease her pain. Despite the bandages and tube and wires, Cal made room for her next to him in his bed. She tucked herself into his side, her tough demeanor evaporated.
As soon as Teddie laid her head onto Calâs shoulder, she was gone. Just like Victoria.
#writing#cal#calum hood#calum 5sos#calum 5 seconds of summer#calum hood 5sos#calum hood 5 seconds of summer#calum hood fanfic#calum hood fanfiction#calum hood imagine
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TRIVIUM - PART 3 - DEBUT MINI ALBUM [2016]
TRIVIUM is the third and final unit to debut from Triptychâs first generation with their debut mini album PART 3. With a significantly more hip-hop and rap-focused sound in comparison to the two previous Triptych units, TRIVIUM brings a new layer of talent and meaning to the super group. Covering hard-to-swallow topics like gender roles and societal double standards, TRIVIUM hits hard and makes waves.
âł TRACK BY TRACK.Â
1]Â BERLINÂ
The decision to make BERLIN their debut song was a power move. Not only does the song have a very distinct and recognizable sound that drags listeners in, but it sets the vibe for TRIVIUMâs energy.
All three members had a hand in writing this song.
The line distribution can be found here
2] SAVAGES
In this hiphop-influenced track, TRIVIUM has a back and forth debate between rappers Van and Cal over if human nature is inherently good or evil, giving examples of highs and lows in society.
Doubled with a strong chorus, thought-provoking versus, and irony twisted into more than a half the lines, this song can be seen as an ironic commentary on what people see as ârightâ and âwrongâ.
Written by all three members.
3] WHO I AM
Trivium talks about their past and how it had shaped them into who they are today. This song is like the last goodbye to their old selves, ready to let go of the past and move on.
This track also acknowledges that admitting ignorance isnât something that you should be ashamed of, as you can only change as long as youâre willing.Â
Written by all three members
 4] BACK OFF
 Ura, the only woman in this subunit, took it upon herself to write a feminist anthem for their album. Itâs basically a response to all the times Ura has had a man be patronizing towards her. Van and Cal act on the track as supporters, but the song is mostly Ura focused.Â
The first song on the album where you actually hear Ura rap and get to see her lyricism play out. One of Uraâs lines mentioned snapping kneecaps. Everyoneâs afraid of her now.Â
Written by Ura
5] BITE
This song is all about wanting someone thatâs not good for you, but you keep coming back.Â
The non-gender specific pronouns in the song show that this song can be about any type of relationship, regardless of gender or if it is a romantic or platonic relationship.Â
Written by Van and Cal
6] MEN/WOMEN
All about gender roles and how theyâve hurt them as theyâve grown up. Since they are the first co-ed unit from Triptych, they took it upon themselves to address double standards/gender roles.
This one caused a bit of a discussion, especially since it directly calls out the double standards in the kpop industry.
Written by all members.Â
âł THIS ERA.
So... Trivium easily got the most attention out of Gen 1.
Mostly because theyâre a co-ed duo that covers topics that arenât discussed super openly.
But also because theyâre really good rappers. Like, all of them. And their stage presence is really intense.Â
Ura doesnât rap as much as she would have liked to this era, as they needed her on vocals to break up the tracks a little since neither Van or Cal can sing very well.
Trivium were given the title âun-idolsâ - which is both a term of endearment as well as a critique, depending on who uses it - because of their unwillingness to play up the role of a significant other at fan signs as well as their general aura.
Idols are supposed to be like... âperfectâ at all times, and Trivium just doesnât do that? Like they wear the worst outfits to the airport, fansites have pictures of them waiting in line for street food (and then chowing down on said street food), and the way they talk to fans is so casual?Â
This attitude turned off some fans, but it brought in a whole new wave of support, especially from international fans who felt like Trivium were relatable.Â
The most popular member this comeback was easily Ura. Not only was she the only girl, so she visually stood out, but she was the one that often went viral for fan-zoning fans who asked her to be romantic with them.
She also received the most criticisms, but she really didnât care. She wasnât going to make herself uncomfortable for the sake of others.Â
Cal got a good amount of attention too because of his accent and his looks. Cal has a very slight British accent when he says certain Korean words and people just... lost it over that.
Van kinda sunk to the background this era, but he doesnât really mind. He just wanted the kids to have fun and have their time to shine. :)Â
As far as numbers go, Trivium breaks records for Triptych by gaining 10 million music video views in the first 24 hours as well as having BERLIN chart on Melon upon release.Â
âł ERA FASHION.Â
I promise this is the last era that Triptych wears color-coded outfits. I promise. The company was trying to see how the color-coded concept would work and gen 1 was the guinea pigs.Â
When Artychs saw how lacking Triviumâs debut outfits were.... they almost rioted at HBH. They already were accusing HBH of picking favorites and not giving Trivium equal treatment.Â
But the truth is... Trivium picked their debut stage outfits. Yes, theyâre bland, but Trivium wanted their debut to feel like friends were finally meeting up for the first time, hence the casual clothes.
The button up shirt fits tho.... that made a few bitches go feral. That was an exquisite serve.Â
The award show fits were nice too! Ura stunned bitches pulling up with her short blazer dress and fishnets. Van had really cool dress pants with designs on them and Cal wore a color that wasnât black! It was monumental!
As far as hair goes, Ura had short black hair with wispy bangs.Â
Van had black hair and almost always wore a wide headband on his hairline.
Calâs hair was usually just styled into tousled brown curls and called a day.Â
âł FANDOM BEHAVIORS.
Iâve explained triptych stan culture before (basically the fandom is kinda divided? like some fans only support certain subunits, others support all of them, etc.) but I think Trivium was what really made that divide clear.Â
Trivum just sounds different than S.O.T and Tromme, there was gonna be people who didnât vibe with their style. But thatâs kinda the point of Triptych, to like.. get different sounds involved in their discography.
And some gross fans didnât like that Trivium made it clear that they donât want to be sexualized by fans, so they just decided to ignore them and focus on S.O.T and Tromme, who hasnât spoken out about being sexualized by strangers online.Â
People also started calling Van a âsmol bean uwuâ (hello 2016) and started like... infantalizing him?? even though heâs a grown ass man??? does he LOOK like dan OR phil to any of you????????Â
Fans also started calling Cal a fuckboy and played him up as this big meme just because heâs goofy. I will never forgive yâall for that.
Pick Mes hated Ura because if anyoneâs âone of the boysâ, itâs Ura and they were jealous. But she literally has to be one of the boys. Itâs apart of her job.Â
But the artychs that do stan Trivium are probably some of the chillest people ever. They are literally just vibing. Trivium stans are dubbed as the âstonersâ of the fandom as a joke.
And OT9 stans overpower solo stans by a LONG SHOT, so donât worry! Trivium received more love than hate from artychs. There were just a few bad eggs that ruined shit.Â
#kumokocnet#aeskocnet#peachykocnet#pikurin#mochikocnet#kocsociety#triptych.disc#trivium.disc#kpop additions#oc kpop group#kpop oc#oc kpop#kpop idol oc#fake kpop group#oc kpop idol#idol!oc#idol!au#fake kpop idol#kpop au
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