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angrylizardjacket · 4 years ago

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the memory of what we would become // Charlotte&Lola

Summary: High School AU But As Adults. Winter 1997. Charlotte, one year shy of 30, has come back from jet-setting around the world as Rolling Stone’s international correspondent for Christmas, and decides to stop in at Lola and her father Leo’s diner.

A/N: 3749 words. WTF this wasn’t meant to be this long. File this under; things that will not make sense since I haven’t published the actual High School AU. so for reference, in the HS AU Lola’s dad doesn’t die, instead he leaves her mother, takes lola to LA, and opens up a diner there. this is set 12 years after the actual HS AU. UNEDITED. @misscharlottelee @summersummerland THIS IS SO SAPPY IM DYING

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The walls of Leo’s had changed colours several times over the years, and the latest was a serene lilac. Charlotte steps in, out of the cold, out of the snow, pulling off her scarf and gloves in the sudden warmth of the heated seating area; it’s a relatively slow day, at least for Leo’s, so it’s still bustling with activity. It had been over a decade since Leo’s had opened, and slowly but surely it had turned into something of a landmark of their little suburb as word of it’s reputation spread along the coast, and then through the nation, with bands like Motley Crue, stars like Keanu Reeves and Peach Perry, mentioning it in interviews, and even a certain Rolling Stone writer bringing it up occasionally in articles. Despite it’s popularity, it had retained it’s heart, clearly, as a teenager greets Charlotte, a kid with too many piercings and no eyebrows, smiling all kinds of bright in a way that most probably wouldn’t expect from such an boy who looked so alternative.

“Welcome to Leo’s, was it just yourself today, or will others be joining you?” He asks, and Charlotte gives a warm smile at the familiar greeting.

“Just me; do you know if Lola’s in?” She asks, and for a moment, the kid hesitates, and looks over his shoulder.

“Lola?” He calls, and through the familiar window into the kitchen, Charlotte sees Lola, hair short and eyes bright, look up expectantly. Her whole face lights up at the sight of Charlotte in the entryway.

“Charlie!” She exclaims, and the kid visibly relaxed, nodding to Charlotte, affirming what they both already knew, “Nathan, can you take these burgers to Roan and his sons? Charlie’s an old friend,” Lola calls out to the boy, who zips away, picking up the plates of burgers as Lola put them up to be collected.

“Is that Charlie?” From the back of the kitchen, Charlotte hears Leo call, and after a moment, she also sees his head pop out of the walk-in refrigerator as she approaches the counter. From somewhere further in the refrigerator, out of sight, she hears a faint, child-like, ‘Auntie Charlie?’ followed by Leo disappearing again, though she could still hear him; “yeah, buddy, Auntie Charlie!”

“Hi Leo! Good to see you!” Charlotte calls out, and sits as at the counter as Lola bustles out from the kitchen and around the counter to wrap her friend up in a hug. It’s been months since the girls have seen each other, and to walk into the diner, so familiar and warm, smelling like herbs and spices, to hear the food cooking and the music playing, it felt like coming home.

“Charlie, look at you, you’re so grown up!” Lola holds Charlotte at arm’s length, giving her an approving look over, which she does every time Charlotte comes back to town since they’d both graduated college, like they’re not still the same age, that being almost thirty. Charlotte rolls her eyes with a good natured smirk, brushing off Lola’s smirk as she tucks her gloves and scarf into her purse, “where’d you fly in from this time, Miss Jet-Setter?” Lola’s grinning from ear to ear, moving back behind the counter to start on a milkshake for Charlotte without her even needing to ask.

“Australia,” Charlotte settles into one of the stools by the counter, beaming with pride, “wrote a piece on this rock band, Silverchair, only sixteen, can you believe that?”

“Tommy was sixteen when Motley first got together,” Lola pointed out, to which Charlotte’s grin turned soft and nostalgic.

“Yeah, but they didn’t make it big for a few years,” she reminded, “but Lola, you and Leo would love them, salt of the Earth kind of boys; actually, you might have heard some of their stuff, they were kind of big here too, Tomorrow? Their album’s called Frogstomp.”

“Dad,” Lola calls over her shoulder, “have we played any Silverchair? Frogstomp? Song called Tomorrow?” After a moment, Leo emerges from the freezer with a small, dark-haired child balanced on his hip.

“I think I’ve heard of them, maybe on the radio? Should be play them; what do you think, Charlie, you’re the expert here?” And his smile is so bright, so familiar, that it hits Charlotte square in the chest; he’s still so tall, broad, and intimidating, but his smile offsets it all, kind and gentle, and when she sees he’s wearing a Motley Crue t-shirt -

“Hi, Auntie Charlie!” The kid on his hip, who looks to be about five years old, is waving broadly to her, beaming.

“Fuckin’ love Silverchair,” says a girl with bright green hair from where she was watching burger patties cook on the grill, not even turning around, hip cocked and spatula in hand.

“They are very good,” Charlotte agrees with the girl, before waving back to the kid, grinning just as broadly, “hi Mal!” Much to the kid’s delight.

Both Lola and Leo grin, talking about how they’d have to look into the band. Leo takes a moment to look over the various people in his kitchen cooking and preparing meals, more than Charlotte thinks she’s ever seen, but it makes sense seeing as how the demand has risen. But then he’s joining Lola by the counter, putting the child down and stepping around to wrap Charlotte up in a hug.

“Sorry if I’m a bit frosty, Mal and I were putting away the produce, weren’t we buddy?” Stepping back, he grins at the child, who’s standing by the counter wearing a blinding, and also familiar smile, stepping up onto a stool that made him the perfect height to serve if he so chose.

“Tutu Leo says he’s gonna teach me the special spice mix for the patties soon,” the child, Mal, delights, and Lola puts Charlotte’s milkshake down, and ruffles the kid’s hair.

Maleko Jr already looks like his namesake, and like his mother, but Charlotte would know Nikki’s green eyes anywhere, and there’s something about the bassist in the kid’s smile too, that has Charlotte’s heart warming at the sight.

“Momma, can I have a milkshake too? A chocolate one?” The kid turns to Lola, wide-eyed and hopeful, and Lola gives a fond grin.

“I think so; it’s a special occasion, Auntie Charlie’s back. Do you want me to make it for you or -?” but before Lola can even suggest, Mal hops down from his stool and strides over to the milkshake equipment, claiming that he could do it himself, radiating pride.

“Mal’s really starting to help out around here,” Lola says with pride of her own, her smile turning so adoring as she watches her son, “Since school’s on break, I told him he’s more than welcome to play with his friends or watch TV, but no, he just wants to listen to Motley records and help out Tutu Leo.”

“Lola your kid is a delight,” Charlotte all but wheezed, watching Mal focus intently as he tries to applying a chocolate sauce drizzle to the inside of his cup, the way they did when they made milkshakes here. Charlotte raises her voice just a little, “Mal, last time I was here, you were just handing out napkins, look at you now!”

“I was four then, Auntie Charlie,” Mal says with surprising seriousness as he puts his cup on the bench, and then drags his stool from the counter to the milkshake area, pulling the milk out of the fridge below the counter and climbing atop his stool, “I’m five now, I’m almost an adult.” He says it so matter-of-factly, in a tone that sounds so much like Nikki, that Charlotte has to stop herself from laughing, and from the endeared look on both Leo and Lola’s faces, this was the sort of thing he said often.

“He thinks once you turn ten you become an adult,” Lola whispers to Charlotte as clarification, and it does little to stop the endearment from blossoming in her chest.

Around them, the staff still works, still moves and cooks and prepares, a well oiled machine, competent thanks to Leo and Lola’s tutelage, able to work well while giving Leo, Lola, and Mal, time with Charlotte.

“How’s Razzle?” Leo asked amicably, changing the subject. Before Charlotte can answer, he quickly asks if she’d like anything from the pastry display, and Charlotte accepts a strawberry tart with thanks.

“He’s good, he’s at my parents’ house, sleeping off his jetlag; he spent the last week with me in Australia, so it’s been kind of a whirlwind for him,” she says with a gentle fondness. In the years since that fateful Junior year, so much had happened to all of them, and the development Razzle and Charlotte’s relationship was some of the most surprising.

During their last year of high school, communication with Razzle was mostly via phone calls and letters, and despite trying their hand at long-distance, after a year, with his band’s growing success, and Charlotte’s growing academic demands as she finished school and started looking at colleges, they both decided that it wasn’t the right time.

After graduating, Charlotte managed to get a scholarship to study Journalism in New York, giving her room to breath, to think, to reinvent herself away from her family and all the pressure and drama that came with her. It had been hard at first, especially being so far from her friends and her cousin, but at least she had Eileen, the two of them sharing a shoebox apartment in the city, studying side by side.

So Charlotte had her fair share of flings and hookups through her first year of college, boyfriends and one night stands and things that were sort of in the middle, still talking often with Razzle as friends, but nothing ever seemed to stick. In her second year of college, when presented with the opportunity to study abroad, she took it, heading to the UK with an ulterior motive.

They’d needed the time apart, to grow as people and as friends, but the moment Charlotte steps off the plane, and Razzle’s waiting with her name on a sign, a bunch of flowers, and a bright smile, Charlotte knew she was still absolutely gone for him.

They’d been more or less together for the better part of a decade, with Charlotte often joining Hanoi’s tours, or Razzle following Charlotte to wherever Rolling Stone had sent her since she’d become their foreign correspondent in 1994. Both were now well versed in being understanding, with such hectic and conflicting schedules, but when they’re together, Charlotte can’t help but feel seventeen again, falling in love with him all over again, and she knows he feels the same.

“Australia, that’s on my bucket list,” Leo mused from where he had been wrapping napkins around knives and forks, and putting them neatly in a basket.

“Oh, you’d love it,” Charlotte enthuses, “if you ever want to expand your business, I think it’d be a hit down under.”

“It becomes a chain, but only with a store here, and one in Australia,” Leo snorts a laugh at the idea, though it’s amused rather than derisive, before he brushes the thought aside, “nah, I think with the diner as big as it is, and being in talks with the pub, that’s all I want.” He says with a fond grin, though that second part was news to Charlotte.

“The Kings’?” Charlotte says with interest, looking over her shoulder at the now rather tired-looking pub across the road.

“The owners are looking at selling it,” Lola says tentatively, looking to her father who wore a small smile, giving a nod of confirmation, “since we started started selling merchandise, we’ve been pulling a little bit more of a profit than usual, which, you know, that’s not what’s important, but I was kind of interested in buying the pub.”

“Oh shit,” Charlotte muttered, “you’re talking about me being all grown up, Lo, you guys are buying a pub?”

Behind Lola, Mal had thoroughly mixed his milkshake, and took the cup off of the mixer, putting a bright, paper straw into it and carrying it around the counter to sit himself next to Charlotte as they all spoke.

“It’s not finalized yet, but hopefully in the new year some time.” She sounds so fucking proud, and for a moment, Charlotte barely recognizes her from the girl she’d met twelve years ago, the standoffish, closed off, new kid at school. It was strange, knowing that the girl she’d first met reading a porno mag in the beer garden across the road, had a Masters in Business Administration, and was successfully running the business side of her family’s restaurant. Without sacrificing the quality, cheap price, or heart of Leo’s, Lola had taken over the the successful business, and helped it to thrive.

“That’s so exciting!” Charlotte’s eyes shone brightly as she leaned on the counter, beaming at her old friend, “and how’s Nikki; I heard Motley’s last tour went well, is he back yet?”

“He’s actually due back from the studio any minute,” Lola grins, “I wish I would have known you were coming, he could have brought the band.”

“It’s no worry, I mean we’re all coming for lunch on Saturday, right? After Eileen and Keanu fly in -?”

Mal made a noise of protest as Leo bent all the way over the counter and angled to take a sip of his milkshake.

“Sorry Mal, usually they’re a hundred, million dollars, but I will settle for one sip,” Leo told him, and Mal clicked his tongue, shaking his head in a way that looked so much like Lola.

“They’re four dollars, Tutu, it says on the menu, but you can have a sip because I love you,” he said, with an uncompromising sincerity as he angled the cup and straw to his grandfather. Leo’s expression melted to adoration, thanking the boy as he took a small sip, while both Lola and Charlotte looked on in awe as they watched the exchange.

“How did me and your dad ever make something half as sweet as you?” Lola cooed, and Mal gave her a toothy grin in response, before joyfully slurping down his milkshake. As if on cue, the door to the diner opened, and Nikki Sixx himself stepped in, shivering from the cold.

“Hey Nikki,” Nathan, the boy by the door, says with an easy familiarity, not even bothering to ask if he wanted a table, and Nikki greeted him kindly in turn, while greetings from other nearby staff were also offered to the newcomer. Leo offered a wave and a greeting, but his name was called from the kitchen and he followed the call quickly.

“Dad!” Mal yelled at the top of his little lungs, jumping from his stool and leaving his milkshake forgotten, to practically tackle the bassist who had just arrived. Nikki picks him up with ease, swinging him around before wrapping him up in a hug, making his way to the counter where Lola had taken a sip of her son’s milkshake, and Charlotte had watched the encounter with delight.

“Charlie Lee-Dingley,” Nikki smiled warmly at her, carrying his son over, who was hugging his father tightly, face hidden in the mess of Nikki’s black hair, “it’s good to see you, how long ago did you get in?”

“Like three hours ago,” Charlie laughed, honest, and his eyebrows rose as he moved behind the counter to press a kiss to Lola’s temple in greeting. Mal, in his arms, surfaces only to take his milkshake out of his mother’s hands, content enough to just be quiet and drink, tucked up against his father. Like this, they make a strangely picture-perfect family, and Charlotte’s heart warms at the sight. “Razzle’s sleeping off his jetlag at my parents’ place; how’s the new album coming along?”

“Apart from Vince walking out on us like a -” he hesitates for a moment, gaze flicking to his young son, “- dweeb,” he settles on, “we’re great, actually our new singer, John, he’s fantastic.”

“So Vince is really out for good?” Charlotte asks, and has to hold herself back from pulling out a notebook, journalistic instincts kicking in at the hint of a scoop in her field. But these are her friends, so she restrains herself.

“He’s being -” again he hesitates, which Charlotte finds strange considering Lola swearing with seemingly no consideration for her son earlier, “not nice, and his priorities weren’t with the band; it was for the best.” He concedes, and then puts Mal down when the kid starts wriggling, following after Leo into the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry, am I allowed to swear in front of him?” Charlotte asks, lowering her voice, and both Nikki and Lola grinned.

“Yeah, of course, we want Mal to know that swearing’s just words, so we’re okay with it, but we just try and keep from using language about other people that’s too harsh around him, like Vince is still a good Uncle to the kid, we don’t want him to think negatively about his family just ‘cos of business stuff, you know,” Nikki explains, and oh what the fuck, when did they become so reasonable.

“Of course,” Charlotte nods in understanding, before asking, “so is Vince coming to lunch on Saturday or...?”

“Between the band stuff and People Magazine telling the whole world that Peach is expecting a kid with that 90210 actor she left him for? Probably not,” Lola snickered, “but he gave me a call the other day and said he’s going to stop in and give Mal his Christmas gift while the band is at the studio some time next week.”

“He’s so fucking petty,” Nikki hissed, rolling his eyes. Lola wrapped an arm around him, pulling him into a side-hug as a show of support, still so short next to him, like she had been ever since the end of high school. She bounces up on her toes and kisses Nikki’s cheek where he’s scowling.

“It’s cute that he got Mal a gift,” Charlotte points out, which Nikki begrudgingly agrees. Despite the fact that neither Lola nor her father celebrated Christmas, Nikki was raised to, and so were most of the kid’s not-technically-related family, like the Lees, the Austens, and the Neils, and Lola was more than happy to participate, in part, for the people she loved.

Lola and Leo did a lot for the people they loved, in their own way, and the diner was a testament to that. There were photos and articles all over the walls, posters, magazine covers, CDs on shelves, all of the bands, the people, the places, or the things they loved. There’s a wall that’s just covered in polaroids of everyone who’s ever worked here, photos of people who have become friends of Leo and Lola’s, the covers of Leo’s favorite albums spanning back through the decades, articles with glowing reviews of the diner, and three photos of Lola from her three different graduations; high school, her Bachelor’s, and her Master’s.

The first Summer Charlotte had returned after being hired by Rolling Stone, she’d come to see her first article up on the wall of Leo’s, right beside the photo he’d taken of them all from after their Junior prom, when they’d all come back to Leo’s to celebrate the night, and themselves; all of Motley Crue, Charlotte with Razzle, Lola, Peach, Eileen, even Keanu was there, beaming with his arm around Eileen’s shoulders. Now, when she looks to that photo, she not only sees her first article beside it, but she sees the one she wrote on Motley Crue, which she’d had them include in the actual printed article, a scanned image of the badge Lola had hand made for her at 17, black construction paper cut into a star that said ‘Punched Nikki Sixx’ in silver pen. There’s reviews for the movies that Keanu’s been in, TV shows Peach has been a part of, a New York Times article about a big case Eileen had won, and her business card, as well as the CD booklet that had come with the first Hanoi Rocks album, and a signed Motley Crue poster above it all. It was close to a shrine, a dedication to the people who mattered to Leo and Lola, a reminder that no matter how far they all went, they could still call the diner home.

Charlotte doesn’t look at it for too long, or else she knows she’ll start crying.

By the time Charlotte looks away from the wall, Nikki’s moved into the kitchen, put his hair up like she remembers him doing so many times before, back when he’d worked here in high school, and he’s chattering away to Leo about how the album’s coming along as they’re preparing dishes. Lola’s serving someone at the counter, and Mal’s standing beside her on his stool, diligently counting the money the customer’s given before handing it over to his mother to cash.

Charlotte recognizes it when Home Sweet Home starts playing around the same time Mal seems to, his whole little face lighting up, and he looks like he wants to call out to Nikki, but when he sees his father focused and working away in the kitchen, he stays quiet. But he sees Charlotte, and he trots over to her, bringing his stool, and standing across from her.

“Do you know this song?” He asks, seriously.

“Of course I do! My cousin and your dad wrote it!” She grinned, and Mal nodded, beaming, “you know, they started writing this when they visited me with your mom, because I was living very far away.” She tells him, “and I couldn’t come home, and it was pretty sad for all of us.”

“Why couldn’t you come home?” Mal asked, his little face all concerned.

“Because I was at school, and it was very important to me.”

“But you came back,” Mal frowned a moment, looking to his mother, and then over his shoulder at his father and grandfather, “because they came back, you didn’t all stay there.” It’s not a question; obviously Charlotte was here, he was just trying to wrap his mind around it.

“Yes, I came home; I always come home.”

“To Leo’s,” like it’s the only real answer, which, to him, who lived above the diner, it was. But as Charlotte considered, she let herself smile, let herself agree.

“Home to Leo’s.”

#motley crue #lola & charlotte #charlotte&lola #the angry lizard writes

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icequeenjules26 · 6 years ago

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A drop in the ocean

Summary: Dan had been ecstatic when his manager had informed him that strictly come dancing wanted him in the next season, until he found out HE would be there.

Word Count: 12,3k

Tags: Musician!Dan, Actor!Phil, Fluff, Angst, Strictly Come Dancing AU

A/n: Written for the @phandomficfests, crossing off the prompts Dancing with the stars (Writer's choice), 2012, Pen Pals, dog, second chance, birthday, communication, Starbucks sofa, commitment, picnic and #spon! (What a list, lol) As always the biggest ever thank you goes out to my angel @succubusphan for doing everything she could so this would get done on Phannies' day!!!

Read on AO3

August 2018

@DanIsAGod3918: This is happening oh my god

@PhilLikesMen: finally i waited forever for this

@dannyboiiiiiii: still can’t believe they worked alongside each other without ever meeting? wtf

@bisexualDan: @dannyboiiiiiii ikr but i’m so here for it

@phanwillbeathing: FUCKINGFINALLY they’ll be together and in front of cameras this is a dream come true

Dan groaned as he scrolled through the comments on his latest instagram post. It was honestly unbelievable. How could he not have known? He couldn’t do this - he couldn’t deal with this. It had been 6 years and Dan was still hung up about it - how was that even possible?

He didn’t want to be here, honestly, not anymore.

He had been ecstatic at first, when his manager had informed him that strictly come dancing, UK’s very own dancing with the stars show wanted him in the next season. He was a musician, so he hadn’t even bothered to ask them - musicians at least had the rhythm it took to dance, putting them into an advantage - but they had apparently seen the making of to his newest music video.

Which wasn’t bad, not particularly, at least - it just showed him attempting to do an easy dance routine his choreographer had designed just for him but failing miserably. He first and foremost was a pianist, with mediocre guitar skills, but even the singing part was pushing it from time to time. Dancing? Like actually, physically moving his long limbs in an attempt to look at least somewhat graceful? The word alone let laughter bubble up his chest.

But he had tried, for the sake of his team, and if it’s that what got him into this show in the first place then he was glad he did.

Or maybe not so much, anymore.

Not since… Him.

He had been invited under a bit of false pretences, Dan decided - they could’ve told him they were planning to get him as well, could they not? - as he stared at the coffee table in front of him, or more specifically, his laptop, displaying an article from some sort of gossip page. Headline:

The meeting the UK has been waiting for: Howell and Lester both starring in strictly come dancing.

He groaned again, shutting his laptop with his foot and letting his phone drop from his hand to sling an arm over his eyes instead, sliding down his sofa until his back laid flat on it, his butt hanging from the ledge in an awkward angle, feet propped up on his coffee table. This couldn’t be happening.

He had been good, so, so good for so long, he had momentarily forgotten what he has even good about. But, as always, life will come and fuck him over when he least expected it. He should be used to it by now.

He had nearly done it. Nearly forgotten those piercing blue eyes. Nearly forgotten this soothing voice, the blinding smile.

He had almost gotten over how his stomach would swoop on the sole mention of the name, how his heart would skip a beat before picking up its pace.

This brought it all back - and not in a good way. He couldn’t do it, it wasn’t fair. It had been years and the multiple edits of them together floating through the infinite space of the internet still made him feel like his heart would get squeezed harshly inside of his chest. He had accepted it by now; he would probably never be over him. He didn’t have the right to be, either, but meeting him now… Like this… It still hurt.

A lot.

Like a rusty knife in his chest.

He had managed to avoid meeting him even while working on the same movie, for fuck’s sake. He had even skipped the premiere and every other event and interview he knew he’d be present at. Now they were being forced together by a bloody dancing show, one he was excited about, sure, but not excited enough for this.

Never for this.

The reaction of his fandom didn’t make it any easier. He had seen the theories and shipping all over tumblr and twitter, of course, but it had been sort of inevitable, with all the stuff they had in common and the fact they were both open about their bisexuality. Now, with the movie long over, he had thought it would subside as fast as it had risen.

It didn’t, though, and Dan had no other choice than to go through with this.

He groaned again. Sometimes, he hated life.

:::

April 2004

Dan was ecstatic when he first learned of a thing called “Pen Pals”. His Nana had explained it to him and he loved the idea of having someone, somewhere, that he had never met but could share things with nonetheless, loved the idea of writing letters back and forth, of being excited to get home from school to check the mailbox, to see if something would be in there.

He was only ten, but he knew enough about writing letters to do it properly, he thought. He’d also get the first checked over by his Nana, that was for sure, to make sure he wouldn’t embarrass himself on the first try. He was so excited to get started, but when he took the time to go through the suggestions the teletext had for him he was gutted. Not one of the kids there seemed genuinely interesting, not enough. Some lived so close it wouldn’t be any fun to write letters, and others were just too old.

Then he got to the last page and a large grin erupted on his face. “Phil Lester, 12, Rawtenstall. I like Sonic and crash bandicoot and i love pokemon! buffy is the best tv show ever created. I’d love to gain a friend from far away!!!” it said, and Dan knew he’d found them. The person he’d write to.

:::

September 2018

So far Dan had done an incredible job at avoiding Phil. His shooting with his tall, but quirky and optimistic dancing teacher and partner Cathy went well and fast enough for him to evade Phil. He was there during the group foto, obviously, but Dan had made a point of wanting to stay on the opposite end and surprisingly, no one had caught up on it or commented on it in any kind of way. After a week of simple dancing lessons they were now about ready to start practicing for their group dance. He was running out of options.

That was the reason he allowed himself a chill night before the first group practice. A funny netflix show was running on the TV, he had a hot cup of tea on the coffee table and Jennah had her head resting on his thigh - he was relishing in the feeling of it.

When his phone vibrated from somewhere next to him he grumbled along with his lady. Picking it up with his left hand he brought his right one down to lazily stroke her head. “It’s okay,” he mumbled when she opened her eyes to look up at him, only paying attention to the still offensively vibrating phone when she nuzzled closer and closed her eyes again.

“Howell,” he answered it grouchily, head sinking against the back of his sofa. “I hope this is important.”

Apparently, life hated him.

“Dan? It’s Louise.”

He suppressed the urge to growl lowly in his chest, almost certain about what was to follow. “Louise,” he huffed out instead, closing his eyes and bringing his right hand up to gently massage his glabella. There was exactly one person who knew of the whole debacle Dan had had with him, and he really didn’t need to hear another lecture about it from her.

He knew it had been his fault.

He also knew there was no way of undoing it, even if there was nothing he wanted more than to set things right.

Yet, she kept pushing.

“I just got home from vacation and checked instagram.”

Oh. That’s what this was about. She hadn’t heard it before.

“Louise-” he started, but got interrupted almost immediately. “No! Do not Louise me, Dan! This is getting ridiculous! Why can’t you just talk to him? If not to make it right, then at least for closure. What do you think will happen, the fucking apocalypse?!” He could tell she was aggravated, gruntled. She had always wanted him to do something, to not just sit around and let it weigh heavily on his heart, and this show obviously only made it worse.

He couldn’t hold in the growl this time. He was gritting his teeth trying to keep himself from saying something that he’d regret later, but even that was getting harder. Jennah immediately reacted to his distrust, opening her eyes and sitting up next to him before moving closer, nuzzling his shoulder. She knew how well he reacted to cuddles, and she was willing to provide them. He could only move to stroke her back in a silent thank you. “I can’t, Louise. I fucking can’t, okay?”

He could already hear her, taking a deep breath, setting up for a monologue, but he was having none of it. “No, Louise, no. I can’t hear it anymore. You think I don’t wish for what you want me to do, every day of every fucking week? You think I like this, doing nothing, suffering in silence? Because that’s what I’ve been doing for the past six years. But as long as you haven’t miraculously invented a time machine on your vacation, there’s no way to undo this. Have you?”

His friend on the other end stayed silent, and he could feel the tears starting to pool into his eyes. “I thought so,” he closed, his voice breaking along the way. He managed to keep it together for as long as it took him to end the call, but then he broke down, sobbing violently. His body started shaking, he didn’t know what to do, how to make it better, so he did what he always did when he needed comfort: he threw his arms around Jennah and moved to press his face into her neck, hiding from the world.

:::

April 2007

It had been two years since Dan had send his first letter to Rawtenstall near Manchester.

Him and Phil had become fast friends and the amount of letters they were sending to each other had become ridiculous by now. Dan’s Dad had gotten mad at him for spending that much money on postal charges only a few months after the first letter and basically told him to stop being friends with Phil - or at least tone it down considerably - so they were now using his nana’s letter box so his dad wouldn’t catch him.

Even his nana had become agitated with it after a while, so they had a deal now. Dan did chores around the house or the garden, like doing the dishes or wiping the floor, and his nana would give him postal stamps as a payment. Other kids wanted to buy candy or save the money to spend it on games, but all he wanted was to write Phil. His nana could probably make him do anything if he’d get those postal stamps in return. To him, they were worth more than diamonds.

They had exchanged pictures of themselves and their homes, they shared their secrets with each other and knew everything there was to know about the other, and Dan reveled in it. The had even exchanged phone numbers, but they had to pay calls in minutes, so they usually didn’t call each other except for special occasions.

Today, apparently, was such a “special occasion”.

When Dan got out of school he didn’t even bother to go home. Instead, he walked directly to his nana, who lived right next to him. That was a normal occurrence by now - he spent most of his time here. His parents were barely home anyways and his nana was watching his little brother after school, so it didn’t even attract his parent’s attention,

Luckily. His dad would probably not like it. Especially not the reason behind it.

Because, obviously, Dan didn’t spend all his time at his nana’s just because he loved her so much. He did, but he was still an introvert; he loved having time for himself and not having to talk to other human beings - he did this for Phil.

Ridiculously much he did seemed to be for Phil nowadays.

He was waiting for a new letter that should probably arrive today or tomorrow. It usually took four or five days, sometimes six, from sending a letter to receiving one, and he had send one last wednesday. It was monday now.

When he opened his nana’s door with his key she was already sat in the kitchen, obviously waiting for him. After greeting her he sat down his bag on a kitchen chair before taking a seat himself, snatching an apple from the fruit bowl sat in the middle of the table. “Everything okay, nana?” he asked after taking the first bite. It wasn’t usual she was waiting for him like this, she was usually up and about around the house or reading in the living room when he got home from school.

A smirk slowly creeped onto her face as she obviously observed him closely. “A very agitated young man called around an hour ago. Said he wanted to talk to you,” she stated and he perked up immediately, eyes flying up to her face. “Phil?” he asked, almost breathlessly, and felt the heat rising through his neck all the way up to his cheeks. He cleared his throat. “I mean - Was it Phil?” He forced his voice to be calm this time, but the grin on his nana’s face had already widened and he knew she had picked up on his behaviour immediately. “It was. I told him you’d be back around now, he should be calling again in a few minutes.” She paused, raising an eyebrow mockingly. “Anything you’d like to tell me, son?”

He could feel his cheeks heating up even more and almost desperately avoided her eyes.

He was about to start saying something, anything, when a shrill ringing interrupted him. “I’ll go,” he practically squeaked out and jumped up to run to the hallway to get the phone.

“Phil?”, he answered it breathlessly and was rewarded with a laugh. “Dan! Take a guess who can now phone people as much as he wants without having to pay more?” greeted him an excited voice on the other line and a wide grin stretched his face in seconds. “Hm, I don’t know. Sarah Michelle Gellar?” Again there was laughter on the other side and Dan wished he’d have a way to look at the other boy’s face when he laughed. “It’s me!” was the answer and Dan could feel excitement bubbling up in his chest.

He looked around the hallway, realizing there was nothing to sit down on while talking on the phone. Maybe they should put a chair in there somewhere. He could see himself needing it a lot in the future.

:::::

September 2018

Dan’s day was not going great so far. He was exhausted, probably dehydrated and he hadn’t eaten in a few hours, but still did not have the time to catch a break. He hadn’t gotten any proper work done for months now - since he had written the music for the movie, actually - and his manager was getting nervous. Not that he could blame her, he’d promised her a line-up for his new album back in July - but that had been before Strictly come dancing had poked its head at him. He couldn’t have let this opportunity go, so he’d had to promise her he’d work while practicing for the show.

It wasn’t working. The whole idea had been rubbish to begin with, to be honest; he’d known the show needed his whole attention and utter commitment. Stef was just ridiculously persuasive, that was the problem here.

Still… He couldn't do it. He just couldn’t. He’d just have to talk to Stef, he decided when he let his pen drop and looked up for the first time for hours from his place on the ground in his music room, musical sheets and random pieces of lyrics scattered around him. His head was completely blank, not one idea breaking through properly.

He wasn’t used to this. Normally he sat a pen to paper and had an almost finished song mere hours later, but now all that came out of his head was crap.

Or a name, he realized when he got up, looking around him to get a general view of what he’d written. His name was smudged across random pages, written in large, black letters that instantly managed to catch his attention. His breath hitched. How had he not noticed he’d been doing that?

His heart hammered in his chest and tears were starting to pool in his eyes as he looked over the papers scattered across the floor. Without thinking he pulled out his phone, taking a picture and sending it to Louise. He would probably regret that later, but he didn’t even realize what he was doing in his horrified state.

He left his music room in a hurry, closing the door behind him in panic as if he could contain the ghost of his past relationship in there, trapping it inside. How was this still getting him? How was he still basically unable to function with the thought of it, after more than six years? Why was he still unable to let go?

Somewhere at the bottom of his heart he knew why. He knew why he couldn’t breathe at the prospect of being in the same room with him for hours - he knew what it meant that his heart was hammering in his chest every time he set foot into the studio they were practicing the group dance in.

He knew it. Had known it the whole time.

He was still in love with him. Six years later and the feelings he had been fighting against the whole time were still there, strong as ever.

He knew it, but - it didn’t change anything. Not really.

Not when he couldn’t even think his name without breaking down into tears.

Phil.

:::

April 2008

It had been four years since Dan had written his first letter to Phil. He was fourteen now, and he spent most of his time on the internet.

Actually, he spent the most time talking to Phil.

Through the internet.

He was lucky his family had still not caught up on it. He was pretty sure his nana was aware he had not just miraculously stopped talking to Phil, even though the hour long conversations in her hallway had lessened immensely; but the rest of them - especially his dad - were still in the dark about it.

And that was honestly the only thing that was important.

Today was a slow day so far. It was wednesday, which to him, was amazing, because it was a day he had only a few hours of school while his parents usually stayed out far longer than usual. Why, he had no idea; he just assumed it was the busiest day of their week.

He had gotten home around an hour ago, had made himself some lunch and settled down in front of his TV to watch some mind-numbing midday show to calm himself down after school.

Normally, he would already be talking to Phil, who usually had a slow wednesday as well, but for some reason he wasn’t picking up, neither on his skype nor on his cellphone. He wasn’t that worried yet, but he still thought it was odd. It happened from time to time that Phil wouldn’t be there that early on wednesdays, for example when his mum caught him before he could get into his room, forcing him to do stuff for her. Normally he’d at least let him know via text, so Dan was getting a little agitated by now.

When Phil still hadn’t texted him or picked up his phone three hours after their usual skyping-time he grew increasingly worried. He seriously considered calling Phil’s landline but was a bit scared to only reach Phil’s mum - the woman didn’t seem to like him much, not that he could blame her.

At the exact moment he was about to call, his laptop started making noises from its place next to him on his bed, indicating an incoming skype call. He accepted the call before even picking it up.

“Phil!” he called when the video finally loaded, revealing an obviously excited Phil, eyes sparkling and hair pushed up into a messy quiff in contrast to his usual, neatly arranged fringe. “Dan!” He grinned broadly, bouncing up and down, making the video jump along with him in the process. “You won’t believe what happened!”

Dan was unable to hide the fond smile sneaking its way onto his face. “Robert Downey Jr. joined a cult and you get to replace him in Iron Man 2?”

He almost choked on his own spit when Phil pouted in response. He could feel warmth wandering up his neck, settling in his cheeks and knew he was probably about as red as a lobster. How could someone be so goddamn cute and handsome at the same time?

“Sadly, no,” Phil answered before a new grin lit up his face as he clapped his hands excitedly. “But! I did just get a role!” he exclaimed, with a smile so wide Dan was surprised it didn’t split his face in half.

“What?” he asked, almost dumbfounded, staring at his best friend as if he’d just told him the sky was green. “Are you serious?”

“Yes! I just got home from casting, that’s why I couldn’t call earlier. I scored a role in the sixth series of Shameless!” Phil answered, excitedly bouncing up and down again, and Dan was left to do nothing but stare. The news hardly even reached his brain with the way Phil looked, excited and glowing and all focused on his screen. Focused on Dan. He secretly pressed the Print Screen key on his laptop, conserving this picture to look at it again and again and again.

That’s when Phil’s words properly registered in his brain. “Are you serious?”, he croaked, voice raw with the emotions coursing through him. When Phil nodded he started bouncing up and down as well, completely unconsciously, beaming so brightly in the process, the muscles in his cheeks started burning almost immediately.

“Yes! I get to act! And I’ll earn my own money!” he exclaimed, obviously still not completely able to believe it himself. Dan let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, eyes wide as he stared into the blue eyes of his best friend - the best friend who made his heart flutter and his breathing hitch. That was normal, right? That’s what best friends were supposed to do to you?

Deep inside, he knew they were not, but he enjoyed living in denial for just a few days longer.

“I’m so happy for you, Phil!” he replied, happiness seeping through him from his head all the way down to his toes. “What will you do with the money?” His voice was high pitched and giddy and his best friend chuckled in response.

“Well, there’s someone I know that’s in desperate need of train tickets for his birthday…”

Dan’s eyes sparkled so bright for the rest of the day, even his mum caught up on it hours later.

:::

September 2018

As the date for the launch show drew incredibly near so did the point where he’d finally have to talk to Phil. The amount of requests for interviews with them both together were growing ridiculous and the bbc hyped it up as much as possible. He was a professional, and he got the general idea of why the bbc reacted the way they did, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

Not really. Not at all.

Still, when the launch show was rolling he managed to not exchange a single word with Phil. Whenever there were cameras he was at least 20 meters away from Phil so they couldn’t force them both in frame with the little time they had backstage.

He got on stage sometimes in the middle of the show and was interviewed. It was mostly just general questions about his life at the moment, how his new album was coming along and if there was anything planned, but he truthfully answered that right now, he was entirely committed to this show. It meant a lot to him already. He was excited to learn even more about music and to dance, and when he announced that any money he’d make during it would be donated to Young Minds the audience basically flipped. He was amazed at the reaction it caused; he hadn’t expected it.

The questions got a bit more personal afterwards. They packed it nicely, sure, asking about any Ladies or Gentlemen in his life that could be offended with his dedication to the show, but it was still basically the question of if he was in a relationship or not.

So he decided to have a bit of fun with that.

“Well, there’s always Stef, my manager. Oh, and my queen, of course, she’s really not amused I’m spending so much time away from home,” he answered with a chuckle, all teasingly and with a suggestive wink, hinting at something that wasn’t there. He predicted that it would grant him protection from the bbc’s shipping attempts at least for the first few shows; it was also their own fault.

They didn’t know “my queen” ment a five year old Shakita Inu lady named Jennah after the queen in his favorite video game. Most of his fans would obviously know or at least assume that - she was all over his Instagram after all - but even that could take a while.

He looked around when he said it, gauging the reaction it caused in the audience. He had expected everything, really, from joy to devastation from his fans, some of who were clearly sat in the audience right now; but what he did not expect… Was Phil.

He caught sight of his face only briefly, but he could not believe what he found there.

Phil’s face was scrunched up, hurt written all over it, and when their eyes met for just a single blink, the blue was dull and washed down, more grey than colourful. He could have sworn there were tears glistening in the corner of them, threatening to fall any moment.

But that had to be some kind of coincidence.

It had to.

There was no other option.

After the interview he somehow successfully weaseled himself out of without giving away too much information, he performed his latest single, written for the movie Phil had played the leading role in. He could feel Phil’s eyes on him the whole time he played, the look burning on his skin like melted caramel, sweet and hurtful at the same time. His fingers prickled with the knowledge that those eyes were finally looking at him again, playing a song that was obviously based on their relationship.

Not that any song that Dan had written had not been somehow based on that.

For a brief moment, Dan wondered if Phil had realized, if he still cared. Cared that his career was basically solely based on the things Phil had told him when they were younger. Did he even realize how big his impact on Dan’s life had been? Or did he still believe the things Dan had told him six years ago to push him away?

He didn’t know. He only knew that it hurt.

A lot.

When the last, sorrowful notes of the song thrummed through his fingers and his throat as he pressed the keys and sang the words, his mind provided him with the fact that their anniversary was only a few weeks away and he couldn’t stop a single tear from making its way down his cheek. His heart was throbbing forcefully in his chest and his breathing hitched the exact moment the last note had rung out. He just hoped no camera had caught that.

Knowing his luck, they’d have it on closeup.

::::

October 2009

Dan didn’t know why, but this time things seemed to be different when he arrived at Manchester Train station. Phil seemed agitated, almost nervous when he greeted him, fiddling with his jacket and adjusting his fringe whenever his hands weren’t otherwise occupied. Dan wasn’t sure what to make of that, but decided to let it slide without much comment. He was sure whatever it was Phil would tell him as soon as he was ready. They knew each other for longer than 5 years at this point, Phil knew he could talk to him about everything.

Instead of taking the bus back to Rawtenstall Phil lead him on a journey through Manchester. They visited sights Dan had never payed attention to and afterwards they went to get a coffee at Starbucks, sitting together closely in the booth they always occupied when they were there; so closely their whole sides were touching. Dan’s right hand laid on the table as they talked, occasionally sipping on their caramel lattes, and he itched to take Phil’s left one into his, placed just a few centimeters apart. Did Phil realize he had his palm up, basically inviting Dan to take it, or was it just coincidence?

They continued their journey when they were both done with their coffees, talking and laughing as usual, yet, something seemed different. When they walked, their hands would brush together, and Dan could have sworn Phil’s fingertips were outstretched towards the back of his hand.

He knew it was probably nothing more than wishful thinking, but a guy could dream, right?

Phil still was straight up on edge when they arrived at their destination, which Dan quickly identified as the Manchester eye. Why they were there, he had no idea, but he liked it. He had been living close to London his whole life, yet never had had come around to take a ride on the London Eye.

“Did you do it on purpose?” he asked gently when they got into the cabin, both sat on the same bench, pressed up together. “Do you remember?” The view got better and better the higher they went, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Phil, whose blue eyes shone brightly in the light of the setting sun.

“Of course I remember,” Phil answered softly, eyes completely trained on Dan, “You always wanted to visit the London Eye, so I figured this is the next best thing.”

Dan couldn’t keep the eye contact any longer, so he turned his head, looking out the other side. He could feel tears rising, that’s how overwhelmed he was with the whole gesture, but he blinked them away. “This is better,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Then there was a hand on his cheek, gently taking a hold of his chin, turning him around until his sight was back on Phil. All the previous tension and nervousness seemed to have left his body. His movements now were confident and certain, determination shining in his eyes as they gazed into Dan’s. “Everything's better with you,” Phil whispered and Dan breathing hitched, his whole body shuddering with anticipation.

When they finally kissed Dan realized it had been inevitable from the start. Phil’s lips felt warm, velvety, right against his own and it was like the world finally set into place. Like everything had been unsure and wavering all his life, turning and spinning around him, leaving Dan unable to ever find his footing, but now it had clicked into place and everything stood still for the first time in his life.

After the kiss ended Phil didn’t let go of Dan. Instead he sat his hand on his cheek and pressed their foreheads together, his bright, blue eyes gazing into Dan’s as if he was the only one that would ever matter. “I like you, Dan,” he whispered, voice almost inaudible. “I really, really like you.”

Dan’s heart stopped for a few seconds, his breath caught in his throat and he felt like the world around them had come to a crashing halt, like time had stopped for everyone but them. Was this really happening? Or was it just one of the dreams that would keep him on edge for hours afterwards, knowing it would never come true?

He had hoped, wished for this for so long; had prayed to a god he didn’t even believe in - yet Phil had never made the first move. They had felt like a real possibility from the first time they met over a year ago on Dan’s 15th birthday, when Phil had stumbled over his words when they had hugged and his cheeks had burned crimson red. Dan would never forget that day; the day he had realized that he wanted them to end up together against all odds.

Then his neck started burning from the way it was bend and he realized - this was real.

It was raw, it wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and Dan could feel tears rising into his eyes. “I really, really like you too, Phil,” he answered and then Phil leaned in to kiss him again, a sob of relief breaking from his throat.

And for that one, single moment Dan felt like they could defeat everything that would ever stand in their way.

:::::

October 2018

Their anniversary had always been particularly hard on Dan. Normally he’d spent the day curled up on his couch with Jennah, eating a ridiculous amount of chocolate and drinking too much alcohol, Louise on the phone or somewhere in his flat, keeping him from doing things he would regret later on - like calling his dad; he’d done that one year, hadn’t ended well. Not really.

This year, Dan wouldn’t be able to do that. This year, he’d even have to meet Phil at some point of the day for rehearsal, probably for longer than he’d be able to endure.

Because that’s what he was doing, Dan realized as he checked into his hotel room, enduring Phil’s presence. It was still torture to even be in the same room as him, let alone talk to him. What would happen when Phil finally got tired of ignoring him; when his selferestrain would finally break and he’d unload six years of pent up aggression towards him?

Dan would crack at the first word, turn around and run, public appearance be damned.

He was just hoping it wouldn’t happen during a live broadcast.

This week Dan had decided to screw the hotel’s room policy and bring Jennah with him. He needed her today, more than ever, he wouldn’t survive the day without her - especially not the night, when he’d have gotten back from rehearsal - after seeing Phil. Fortunately, he didn’t even get one single negative comment when he lead the lady dog into the hotel, suitcase in tow. The pretty, courteous dog got nothing but positive comments from the staff, especially when they realized how well-trained she was, following his commands immediately even when he accidentally dropped her leash. She was wary towards strangers, still hadn’t even completely accepted Louise as his friend, but she trusted him with a burning passion that overshadowed everything else.

They finally made it up to their room and Dan didn’t feel energized enough to do anything else but flop down on the bed. Jennah, who knew she was not allowed to climb onto the bed without an explicit invitation, whined softly at him, and he didn’t have it in him to deny her request. She was incredibly sensitive of his emotions and sensed that he needed comfort, but was unable to provide it due to the distance Dan had put between them.

He softly patted the space next to him and she jumped up immediately, laying down cuddled into his side, head gently resting on his shoulder. He drapped his arm around her, stroking her soft fur. She continued to make quiet whimper like noises, but they were less needy now, more content.

The tears started rising without his consent. He didn’t even know what caused them, he just knew that suddenly, they were there, threatening to fall; and then there was a sob escaping his throat, the dam broke and the tears started flowing freely. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

A few more hours and it had been nine years on the dot. Exactly nine years since Phil had made the first step, kissing him on the Manchester eye.

Dan wanted nothing more than to kiss him again, like he had been able to until this faithful day six years ago, to kiss him and hug him and love him - but he couldn’t, and it was ripping him apart from the inside out.

It wasn’t fair. He was aware he hadn’t always been the best person, was aware he’d made mistakes, but didn’t everyone? What was it that entitled him specifically for this sorrow, this heartbreak; a pain you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemies?

When it was time to head over to the studio for the final rehearsal he was barely able to let go of Jennah. He knew he couldn’t bring her with him, but that didn’t make it any easier to leave her soft fur and gentle comfort behind.

He managed to though, eventually, tears dried and the puffiness of his eyes immensely decreased after crying for what felt like hours.

Maybe it had been hours. Or maybe he’d stopped crying halfway through and had just laid there, cuddling Jennah and staring off into space, into nothingness, into a time where he and Phil had been together and so happy Dan had thought he might just burst any second.

Before his world had been ripped into shreds.

Arriving at the studio he discovered that life definitely hated him. He and Phil had never really met on camera and he’d managed to avoid him during the aftershow and even the daily talk show, but now he saw this week’s order of dancHe didn’t have it in him to say much more, his heart was itching to tell the truth and he knew he couldn’t trust himself much longer.ers and he wanted to barf or cry or die on the spot.

It was just his luck that put him on seventh spot with Phil in eighth - the exact time they had kissed, half past seven - which meant that despite his best efforts he would definitely meet Phil today.

Out of all the shows, why did it have to be today? Wasn’t it enough he was already laying on the ground, broken beyond repair? No, life had to send someone after him to squash him, again and again and again until he would be unable to ever get up again.

While waiting for their turn Cathy, his dance partner, managed to keep his mind off of things. They talked and laughed and when she asked him about how his queen was doing he gladly took out his phone, showing her a few of the array of pictures he had taken on their walk last night. Her eyes started sparkling immediately. “She’s so beautiful. And she’s completely fixed on you, Dan, like you’re her everything, it’s so cute,” she gushed and Dan blushed.

Something crashed then and he looked up, only barely catching sight of a distraught looking Phil scurrying away in a hurry.

Surprisingly, his rehearsal went okay. He was a bit more nervous and jumpier than usual, but he was a professional, so he was able to act it off quite successfully.

When he was done with it, though, and turned to get backstage, that’s when it all went to hell.

Cathy had gone on ahead without him, claiming to desperately need water, so there was no one else around when he met Phil on the way. He was trying to get past him as fast as possible, but due to the passage backstage being so small there he had to brush Phil - that’s when he felt long, slender fingers reaching for him, closing around his wrist. For a moment, their eyes met and the blue was so vengeful, so cold Dan was left standing in a snowstorm.

He stopped dead in his track, eyes wide open, staring ahead, trying to not look at Phil, to not give him any more openings.

Because this was it, Dan thought; this was the moment his carefully mended heart would get smashed into pieces all over again.

Phil moved his face next to Dan, so close he could feel Phil’s breath on his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “I hope she’s good enough for you,” he hissed into Dan’s ear, voice so cold it froze the remaining pieces of Dan’s heart. They clinked a melody as they burst, a melody sounding dangerously like the song Dan had written for the movie, the song Dan had written solely for the purpose of reaching Phil.

He didn’t even know how he got away. Maybe he hadn’t, maybe Phil had just moved past him and let him stand there, desperately clinging to the remaining shards of his heart. They seared him as he tried to hold on to them, but he didn’t even feel it anymore. The pain was gone, all that was left was a numbness that could’ve, should’ve scared him.

The next thing he knew he was sitting on a sofa in one of the resting rooms backstage, a bottle of water in his hands. He could hear people walking by in the hallway, but he was completely alone, which he was more than glad for. Streaks of tears were running down his cheeks as he sobbed quietly, and all he wanted to do was to get to Jennah, to press his face into her soft fur and accepting the knowledge that yes, he would never be okay again, but it didn’t matter as long is this amazing creature loved him.

The opening of a door tore him out of his thoughts and he stood up reflexively. He had hoped that maybe, it was Cathy checking in on him or one of the crew members informing him that he could go back to the hotel now, but no.

No. It was Phil.

Of course it was.

He looked horrible. His form was hunched over, as if he barely had the strength to hold himself up anymore and his eyes were red and swollen with tears running down his cheeks.

Dan took an unconscious step forwards, moving to comfort Phil, until he realized that he had lost all privilege to do so years ago.

How was he still not used to that, he wondered briefly when Phil finally raised his head and their eyes met.

“You know,” he started, voice hoarse and barely above a whisper, “I want to forgive you. I want to forgive you so that -” His voice broke and he took a deep breath - or maybe it was a sob. Dan couldn’t be sure. “So that I can stop.” He got louder, more confident and Dan wanted to say something, anything, but he was frozen, unable to move or even breathe.

“Stop thinking of what you did to me… Stop thinking of you,” he continued and fresh tears sprang into Dan’s eyes, a pain in his chest, so soaring he was sure it would consume him any moment.

“Forgive you, so that I never have to think of you ever again… Because I refuse to.” Phil’s voice broke again as a sob rattled him, new tears spilling from his eyes and he looked so broken Dan’s heart was pierced by a million spears all at once.

Just for a second it was quiet, complete silence engulfing them aside from the distinct chatter coming from somewhere down the hallway. Not that Dan even registered it as they continued to stare into each others eyes, a pain soaring through his body like howling flames, burning their way through his veins, leaving behind nothing but destruction.

“But I can’t.” Phil sobbed again and finally looked away, down to the ground before he lifted his gaze again, staring dead into Dan’s eyes. “I want to, so, so desperately, but I can’t.”

He didn’t even wait for Dan to react, not for the hurried “Phil, wait!” Dan finally managed to throw after him, only released from the spell that had kept him rooted to the spot when they broke eye contact, nor for the sob that fought its way up his throat. He just turned around and left Dan to break down on his own.

:::

June 2012

Dan’s nineteenth birthday was the most beautiful one he’d ever had.

Firstly, he was in a generally good place in life. He had finally started pursuing music as a real career option after Phil had practically begged him to for years and had gotten his first contract a few weeks ago. His parents were surprisingly okay with it - or at least his mum was - and his nana was the most encouraging he’d ever seen her.

Secondly, Phil was the most amazing boyfriend he ever could’ve asked for. He was supporting Dan’s every decision, he was thoughtful and attentive and, quite frankly, hot as fuck. He always took Dan’s opinions into account when he made decisions and was considerate of whatever problems Dan had - which were, mostly, about the fact that Dan’s parents still didn’t know of either the fact that he was still in contact with Phil, nor about Dan’s sexuality - let alone his relationship to Phil. It didn’t make things easy, but now that Phil earned a lot of money he sponsored Dan a train ticket every other weekend - at least when he wasn’t away for whatever acting role he was doing at the time. It was a system that worked for them, and Dan didn’t care about anything else.

And thirdly, his amazing boyfriend had managed to get some time off from filming so they could spend a few precious days together over his birthday.

Spending time together got increasingly difficult with Phil’s rising popularity, but they spent a week all alone in the cottage that Phil’s parents owned, a cottage on top of a cliff on the isle of man. They went on a picnic on the beach almost every day, and it was during one of those on monday, his actual birthday, when Phil gifted him with a key to his new flat in London and a speech soaked with the love he felt for him.

Dan had never felt more like flying than he did in this moment.

Unfortunately, that only made his fall even harder.

When he got home on thursday the atmosphere at home seemed weird from the very first moment he stepped through the door. He was well rested and had been in a bliss-like state the whole week, but now he got anxious when he climbed the stairs to his bedroom, suitcase in tow.

His suspicions got verified when he pushed the doors to his bedroom open and revealed his little brother, hunched over on the edge of his bed, clutching a pillow to his belly and sobbing loudly.

Dan closed the door behind him and hurdled over to his little brother. “Adrian!” he murmured apprehensively, moving to sling an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “My god, what’s wrong?”

“I-i’m s-so sorry, D-Dan,” he squeezed out in between sobs. Dan tried to comfort him, gently murmuring encouraging nonsense, until Adrian had calmed down a bit, at least enough to form semi-coherent sentences. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I swear, I was just looking at the pictures and dad came in and-”

Dan’s blood froze in his veins, his heart stopped and the hand on his brother’s arm clenched involuntarily. “What did he see,” he clenched out between gritted teeth, missing the questioning tone but Adrian answered him anyway. “One of the picture of you and Phil kissing. I’m so sorry.”

Dan didn’t even hear him anymore. He felt like the world had been pulled out from under his feet and he was falling, tumbling down an endless cliff he had no idea how to get out of.

His dad choose this exact moment to storm into the room, looking about ready to murder his innocent child. “We need to talk, Dan,” he said in a monotone voice, but his eyes were so aggressive Dan wanted nothing else but to curl up into a ball and hide. It’s fine, he wanted to make himself believe, you can just go and live with Phil if he throws you out.

But it went worse than he had feared.

It turned out his father didn’t want him out of the house, now that he was on his way to success in the music industry, and he had his way of forcing him to stay. Instead of screaming at him, threatening him to throw him out, he blackmailed Dan.

He still screamed, a lot, about what a disgrace he was and why, out of all the males in this country, it had to be this one. Dan strongly assumed it wouldn’t have made any difference if it would’ve been Prince Harry or whatever other male member of the royal family, but he kept his mouth shut.

He briefly toyed with the idea to jump in to defend Phil, to tell his father that he was a successful actor and an amazing person, but he didn’t give him the chance to say anything.

“I want him out of your life. You are going to cut every and all ties to that filth and will not contact him again in any kind of way. That clear?” His father’s voice had gone from screaming to hissing and the volume had gone down considerably, but his eyes stayed the same, fixing Dan in a gaze harder than steel. He took a deep breath. That was it. That was him standing up to his father for the first time in his life.

“Why?” he asked, eyes set dead on him, “Why would I do that? I love him, Dad. I’ll stay with him, no matter what you say. I don’t care what you’ll do to me.” He was proud his voice didn’t break or falter in the slightest, and for a moment he thought that he’d done it, that he’d won.

Then a smirk creeped onto his father’s face and he knew something was about to go terribly wrong.

“You might not care about yourself”, his father said, voice cheerful like he knew he was about to ruin Dan’s life, and he liked it. “But don’t you care about your boyfriend?” Dan hadn’t been aware that the term boyfriend could sound like a slur, but suddenly it did. “I have acquired some pictures the public might find incredibly interesting…”

Dan hadn’t noticed it before, but his father had Dan’s old laptop open on the table in front of him; the very laptop he had given his little brother because he had gotten himself a new one from his first self-earned money.

Dan already knew what he would see there when his father turned it around. He had transferred, but forgotten to delete all the pictures he had saved on there, including a variety of ones of Phil and him, cuddling, kissing - happy. Maybe he hadn’t even particularly cared to delete them, considering Adrian was aware of Dan’s relationship, had been for a long time. He had been happy for him and the warmth Dan had always felt at the prospect had frozen to solid ice now.

Tears started prickling in his eyes and it took all his willpower to suppress the sob that was threatening to rip from his throat. He knew what his father was suggesting. He was obviously waiting for Dan to make a choice - but they both knew there was no choice to make.

The crushing realization that he would give into his father’s blackmail made his heart shatter into a million pieces, but there was nothing he could do about it. The public had become much more open about those topics, but they both knew a sexuality scandal would be enough to destroy Phil’s entire career.

They also both knew Dan couldn’t do that to Phil - not even risk it. His father had his resources, and when he wanted to know of every interaction between Dan and Phil, then he would.

So Dan had to end it. For good.

He was given the chance of one last skype call to break up with Phil. He knew he wasn’t the best actor and that Phil would be able to tell he’d been crying and how incredibly crushed he was, so he had to make sure that Phil wouldn’t realize, make him preoccupied with himself.

He had to play into Phil’s insecurities. He hated himself for it, but it needed to be done; even if it tore him apart in the process.

Phil greeted him in his usual, cheerful voice when the call connected and Dan could already feel the tears starting to rise, a sob threatening to escape his throat. There was a weight on his chest, so heavy he didn’t know how he was able to stay in an upright position. He carefully plastered an indifferent mask onto his face while his mind went back in time to keep the tears at bay; back to his birthday, back when he’d been so happy he hadn’t even known what to do with all the happiness.

He cut right to the case, unable to put off the evil any longer.

“Phil.. I can’t do this any longer. I have tried, but… I can’t. You’re just…” His throat constricted and he almost had to gag. He had never said words more untrue in his entire life. “You’re not good enough for me.”

He couldn’t look Phil in the eyes as he said it. He didn’t want to see the pain, the sorrow; didn’t want to hear the sobs and the pleeds. He wanted away. Far, far away; to a place where he and Phil could be happy… Could be together.

He felt like a monster.

Would feel like one for a long time.

“But I love you!” Phil pleaded. Dan’s heart constricted in his chest. His palms were probably ripped open with the force he pressed his nails into them, trying to keep himself from breaking.

He didn’t have it in him to say much more, his heart was itching to tell the truth and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his facade much longer. He couldn’t help but let a tiny, incredibly quiet “I’m sorry, I love you” slip out, but it was drowned out by Phil’s cries.

Louder, he said “We’re done. Don’t contact me ever again,” ended the call and forced himself to block Phil on any and all social media.

Only then did he allow himself to break down.

He knocked the glass from his bedside table as he started wailing, crumbling apart; and he watched it fall to the ground and shatter into a million pieces…

Just like his heart.

::::

October 2018

Dan didn’t know how he made it back to his hotel room. He only knew Jennah was already waiting for him by the door as he stumbled inside, whining when she saw his state. She was by his side immediately, whimpering as she pressed her head to his thigh.

He didn’t even make it to the bed. Instead, he sunk to the ground right there, back pressed against the door. Jennah didn’t waste any time to cuddle into his side nuzzling his shoulder. He raised his hand to stroke her ears and she rewarded him with a soft whimper, nearly drowning the sound of his sobs.

He couldn't do this any longer. He had endured the pain for six years but now It felt like he had reached his breaking point. he couldn't do it one single second longer. He was at his breaking point.

He skurried a bit to fumble out the phone hidden in the front pocket of his black skinny jeans. Jennah continued to provide comfort, and he appreciated it more than anything else, but he needed more. He needed his best friend.

He had to discover that the reception in the hotel was more than bad, though, so he had no other choice but to drag himself across the room to the balcony. He slumped down again when he was outside, sliding down with his back pressed against the glass. It was the middle of October and only around six pm, but it was almost completely dark outside already. He could see the stars from where he sat and briefly wished he would be up there, somewhere far, far away, where the way his heart had been crushed meant nothing anymore.

He was aware there was no such place, no matter how far away. But for a moment, he let himself dream.

Until Jennah’s wet snout nuzzled into his hands.

She was back at his side again, a chocolate bar held carefully in her snout, and he wanted to cry again, out of love for this wonderful creature. “Thank you. I love you so much,” he whispered and ruffled the fur between her ears affectionately, taking the chocolate and ripping the wrapping open to take a bite. It was a bit inconvenient with one hand, considering he still held his phone in the other, but -

Wait. Phone, balcony…

Right. Louise.

He dialed her number as he swallowed the first bite of chocolate.

She picked up on the first ring. “Dan. How are you doing?” she asked, gently and caring, and suddenly there was warmth spreading through his chest. “I’m okay,” he tried, but his voice was croaky and hollow and he didn’t even believe himself.

“Oh, honey. What happened?” Of course she wasn’t fooled. He shouldn’t even have tried.

“I.. He… He talked to me.” He cuddled into Jennah for the extra comfort as he talked, who sat pressed into his side, a bastion of calm in the middle of the storm that was his pain.

That’s how he told Louise everything that had happened. How they had passed each other in the entry to the stage. How Phil had come back to talk to him, what he had said, how broken he had looked. He started crying somewhere halfway through the story and there was some kind of rustling on the balcony beside his, indicating there was someone there, but he didn’t care.

“Oh, Dan,” she whispered when he was done, and he could almost feel her embrace. He was so accustomed to her present, especially on this particular day, and it was strange to not have her there with him. He sobbed again. “It’s just,” he croaked, new tears spilling from his eyes, “In the end he’s right. It’s my fault. What happened is my fault and I just -” He halted, unsure of how to continue. “How could I do this to him?”

“It’s not your fault, Dan,” Louise remarked, voice still soft, obviously scared to make his breakdown even worse by unsettling him.

In the end, maybe it was that what unsettled him the most. The carefulness, the way she treated him like he was a small child or a wild animal, like he could get spooked and run away every second. “But it was!” he cried, louder now, and Jennah next to him howled lowly. “There has to be something I could have done differently! I could’ve tried fighting my dad, or try to make him see reason! Or at least something to make Phil understand I did it just to save him and his career!”

It was silent for a while before he continued, and he knew she kept quiet just to let him get it out. “I was just so scared. I loved… Love him so much, Louise. Everything I did was just for him.” There was a broken sob from somewhere to his right and he froze immediately. For a second he thought it had been him, choking out a sob unintentionally, but Jennah’s head was turned over to the right too, staring intensely into the darkness. Again, there was rustling on the balcony there, a sound like a door sliding closed. His lady dog growled lowly for a second, but then complete silent engulfed them both, aside from the voice of Louise in his ear, murmuring soothing words.

He was starting to think he’d imagined it all when there was a harsh knock on his door. He sat there, frozen, head turned to look through the glass pane, across his room to where the sound came from. He sat completely still, a hand laid on top of Jennah’s head tentatively to keep her quiet. A few seconds the knock came back, louder this time, more insistent. “Dan, open the door!” a voice shouted from the outside and his breathing itched. That had almost sounded like…

“Phil?!” he questioned quietly, talking to himself, which made Louise quiet down on the other end of his still going phone call. “Louise I think… I think Phil is at my door,” he whispered into the device, unsure of how to proceed. “What are you doing still on the phone then?! Go talk to him!” she insisted in a high-pitched voice and had hung up on him before he could even react.

“Dan! I know you’re there! Open the goddamn door!” the voice shouted again and there was more knocking. For a second he looked between his phone and the door, unsure of what to do, but then he got up and made his way inside of the room. Jennah followed him cautiously, but he stopped by the bed. “Can you stay here for me, love?” he asked her, pointing to the ground she stood on, and she sat down reluctantly, throwing him a look that was clearly not amused and slightly worried. “I’ll be fine,” he whispered and moved forward. He turned on the soft light on the headboard of the bed through the switch by the door before he opened.

In front of it stood Phil, hair ruffled, cheeks reddened, if from the shouting or the obvious tears, Dan couldn’t be sure. He marched into the room, brushing past Dan as if he hadn’t even seen him, but stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted the dog still patiently sitting next to the bed.

It was silent for a while after Dan had shut the door. Phil stared at his dog as she stared right back, silently estimating each other, and Dan stood slightly to the side, gaze switching between them like he was watching a tennis match.

“Come here, girl. It’s okay,” he said after a while in the direction of his dog, who stood up silently and made her way over to them. She let Dan stroke her fur before she bravely marched forward, right up to Phil. Dan held his breath as he watched her generously accepting Phil’s outstretched hand, letting him pet her.

“Phil, meet Jennah,” he introduced them, and Phil, who had crouched down to be on eyelevel with his dog, stopped dead in his track, head wiping up to meet Dan’s gaze for the first time since he marched through the door. His eyes were blue, so blue in the soft light and Dan’s heart constricted in his chest. He felt like drowning.

“Jennah?” Phil whispered questioningly, eyes wide, still stroking the dog’s fur, “as in… Queen Jennah?”

He whipped his head around, looking between Dan and his dog as he obviously made the connection. “She’s not a girl,” he stated, louder this time, “When you said your Queen you… You meant your dog?”

Dan just nodded. He didn’t trust his voice in this moment. The weight of the situation came crashing down on him, and he felt himself swaying a bit. He moved over to the couch in the corner of the room, sinking down on it, closely followed by Phil and Jennah.

“I thought…” Phil murmured to himself as he sat down quite close to Dan, not quite touching, but it was a close call. “You thought I was talking about my girlfriend,” Dan stated in a matter-of-fact tone as he pulled his legs up to his body, leaning against the backrest of the couch. Jennah sat right in front of it, her head cramped on the couch in the small space between his and Phil’s leg.

“Yes,” Phil answered breathlessly, absently stroking Jennah’s fur, staring at her like he couldn’t quite believe she was real. “She likes you,” Dan declared fondly, full of affection, “She doesn’t even let Louise that close. And she usually sits her when I’m gone.”

“Is that who you were talking to?” Phil asked softly, turning his head over to Dan now, who tensed up immediately at the question. This was it, then. They would talk about this, right now.

His heart was beating wildly in his chest and a light feeling bubbled up in the pit of his stomach, a feeling he couldn’t quite place… Not until he recognized it as something that he had deemed impossible for a long time now. Was that... Hope?

“Yeah,” he answered, and his voice was deep and husky and nearly broke halfway through this one single word. He was so nervous he couldn’t even hope to control his breathing and had to wrap his arms around his legs to keep his hands from shaking.

“How much did you hear?” he whispered, stoically staring ahead, avoiding Phil’s eyes. “Pretty much everything, I think,” Phil answered and Dan’s heart almost leaped out of his chest. Oh god, what was he supposed to do?

He started chewing on his lower lip as he took a deep, but quivering breath. “What happened back then, Dan?” Phil asked softly, body completely shifted into Dan’s direction now, one leg folded under the other to allow him to sit sideways. He was still stroking Jennah’s fur absently with one hand and the lady dog savoured it with closed eyes. Traitor.

For a second, Dan didn’t know how to breathe. He shot a quick glance over to Phil, to his eyes, and he wasn’t sure if the look in them made it easier or harder to say what he had to say. There was something in there… Something speaking of feelings Dan had contemplated as long-lost. He shuddered.

“I was… So happy with you that week, Phil,” Dan whispered, tears nearly choking him as they silently started rising into his eyes again. Where he even took them from anymore, he couldn’t be sure. “But when I came home I…” His throat constricted heavily and he had to suppress a retch. “My little brother sat on my bed, crying. Telling me he was sorry and that it was an accident.” His voice was unbelievably quiet now and completely breathless, and he felt Phil leaning in closer to understand what he was saying. “I had given him my old laptop before we went to the isle of man, do you remember?”

He took the courage to look over to Phil again, who nodded. “You were so proud you made money with your music,” Phil reminisced tentatively, matching his volume to Dan’s, “So you went and bought yourself a new laptop from it.” He chuckled lowly. “You were so excited, said you’d finally be able to see me when we skyped.”

Dan nodded back and had to close his eyes for a moment to keep the tears at bay. “I had forgotten to delete the old pictures still on there. Or maybe I just didn’t do it, I can’t even remember. Adrian knew and I didn’t-” A choking sound escaped his throat before he was able to continue. “I didn’t think it would matter,” he closed breathlessly, so quiet the blood pounding in his ears drowned out his own voice.

It was at this moment Phil obviously made the connection. He shot up from his hunched-over sitting and stared at Dan, wide-eyed. “Your father saw the pictures?” he asked and Dan could see the shock in his eyes.

“He barged in on Adrian as he looked through them,” Dan confirmed, his voice back to a slightly louder volume. He shook his head. “He was so shocked, Phil. Full of guilt.”

Phil sucked in a sharp breath. “What did your father do?”, he asked, tears clogging up his throat on their way up. Dan could feel his eyes on him as he moved to burrow his face against his knees. “Oh god, Dan, what did he do?” There was a panic in his voice now and Dan failed to keep the next sob from breaking out.

He raised his head, tears stinging in his eyes as he looked over to Phil. “He blackmailed me, Phil. My own father. He told me... “ His voice broke and Jennah whimpered from her place on the ground, sensing his pain. “He told me he’d out you in public if I wouldn’t cut all ties to you.” He was full-on crying now and before he knew it, Phil was suddenly there, taking him into his arms, gently stroking his back. Jennah nuzzled his thigh and he moved one hand to gently caress her head.

“I’m so, so sorry Phil,” he squeezed out in between sobs, burying his head in the crock of Phil’s neck. “I was so scared he would destroy your career. He would have found out when I would have tried talking to you in secret and I just... I couldn’t let him do that to you. I loved you so much.”

For some time he just sat there, crying as Phil held him in his arms, mumbling soothing words and gently rubbing his back.

It was Phil who eventually broke the silence, long after his cries and broken sobs had rung out. “Out there on the balcony, when you talked to Louise, you said…” He let his voice fade out and Dan could feel him swallowing heavily. “You corrected yourself. You said…”

Dan knew what he wanted to say. “I said I still love you.”

He felt Phil nodding, felt his hand tremble as it rubbed circles into his back. He uprighted himself, staring straight into Phil’s blue eyes.

I was now or never.

“It’s true, Phil,” he whispered, voice hoarse as he stared. “I love you. I never stopped. It’s been six years and I just...” He let his head hanging down, closing his eyes. “I could never forget you. You were always there. I couldn’t even watch you on TV without breaking into tears because of how much I missed you.”

Suddenly, there was a hand on his cheek and he opened his eyes, wordlessly staring into Phil’s. The blue was shining brightly and there was a smile on his face, so wide Dan was sure it hurt. “I love you too, Dan,” he said, his voice full of joy and happiness - and love. “I love you too, oh my god, I never stopped. I wanted to, so badly, but I couldn’t.”

There was a moment of silent communication, of Phil asking for permission and Dan granting it, and then they moved forward in utter synchronicity until their lips met in the middle in a kiss so sweet it would put every candyfloss to shame. Somewhere in the room the needle of the wall clock ticked half past seven.

When they broke the kiss to come up for air it was quiet for a moment as they looked into each other’s eyes, and then they were crying; crying and laughing and reveling in happiness, Jennah cheerfully barking back at them.

“Can you… Will you give us a second chance?” Dan asked when they both had calmed down considerably, holding Phil’s hands in his, thumbs moving over the smooth skin on their backs; still unbelieving of the fact that he was allowed to feel it again.

There were tears in his eyes as Phil looked at Dan, silently, and then he was laughing as the tears started falling. “Of course. Of course, Dan, of course. I would like nothing more than to be with you again.”

This time, the kiss was a bit less sweet, a bit more heated, and it lasted a lot longer - at least until Jennah, obviously dissatisfied of being left out, was suddenly there, running her tongue across both of their faces.

“Jennah!”, they both screeched in unison, laughing at the Shiba and Akita Inu Mix, who had her forelegs on the sofa to reach their faces, her tail energetically wagging around as she whoof-ed at them happily.

They all slept in Dan’s bed that night, closely cuddled together, Dan with his head on Phil’s chest with Jennah somewhere in between.

Four weeks later when, in the middle of a show, Dan heard about the fact that both him and Phil had been nominated for the german filmfest Berlinale, indicating that they were strong contestants for the upcoming Oscar-Nominations, he didn’t even hesitate. He ran right on stage after Phil’s dance, catching him in a bone-crushing hug. He told Phil what he had heard, tears of happiness in his eyes. Again, there was some sort of silent communication and then Phil was kissing Dan, right in the middle of the dance floor, in front of millions of viewers.

They didn’t care they all knew - all that mattered was the happiness radiating between them.

#phan #phanfiction #dnp #phanfic au #my writing

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reedusdixonfictionaddiction · 8 years ago

Photo

The Summer in Georgia

Chapter 12, The Station

Daryl pulled into the Sheriff’s station and parked next to Rick’s Bronco. They got out of his truck and headed inside. Isabella was incredibly nervous. She reached out and held onto Daryl’s arm, standing off to the side of him. Rick was in his office with another deputy, he saw them come in and waved for them to come back. Isabella was still holding onto Daryl’s arm when they got to Rick’s office. Daryl looked down at her and nodded, as if to say that it was ‘alright.’ She smiled at him hesitantly and let go.

“Hey, there she is. Miss America.” Rick exclaimed. “I was hoping Daryl would bring you down here.” He looked over at the deputy in his office and said, “Chris, this is Isabella the young lady I was telling you about.” He turned back to Isabella and said, “Isabella this is my right-hand man, Chris Jackson. He’s in charge when I’m not around. I couldn’t do my job without him.”

Chris laughed and held out his hand to greet Isabella. “It’s great to meet you. I hear you’re a college grad this year. Behavioral Science? Pretty impressive.”

“Thank you.” She answered, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Chris was the undersheriff. He was a 6’4” black man with a gorgeous smile. He was Rick’s age and he had a degree in Criminal Justice from Georgia State University, where he played linebacker for their football team. He was married to a nurse named Yvette and they had one child, a 5-year-old son named Ricky. Named after Rick.

Isabella stared at him a minute, wondering why he seemed so familiar. Then she realized. He looked just like the movie actor, Morris Chestnut.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like…” She started when Chris cut in.

“… Morris Chestnut?” Chris said nodding his head, smiling.

“Yes!” she laughed.

“Who’s Morris Chestnut?” Daryl asked.

“He’s the guy that played Ricky in that movie, ‘The Boyz in the Hood’. Rick said. “and yes, he does. Ironically, that’s what his boy’s name is.” He continued.

“Oh yeah, he does.” Daryl said, nodding his head.

“My wife says, that’s the only reason she went out with me when we first met. Hey, he’s a good-looking guy, I consider that a compliment.” Chris winked. “But my boy’s named after Rick, here. Not the guy in the movie.” Rick puffed out his chest and smiled proudly.

“Come on Isabella, let me introduce you to everyone else that’s here right now.” Rick said, motioning her to follow him into the main area of the station. She smiled at Chris and then followed Rick and Daryl into the other room. He led her over to two other deputies who were busy talking by the coffee machine.

“Hey guys!” Rick said to the men. They turned and smiled. “This here’s Isabella, she’s staying with me this summer and she’s going to be working down here a few days a week. Say ‘hi’.”

One of them, a tall, blonde around 40ish held up his hand and waved ‘hi’.

“Hello, Isabella. I’m Edwin, but all my friends call me Jenner. So, I guess that’s what you’ll be calling me too.” He smiled.

The other man was Asian and in his early 20’s. He had a black eye, which told Isabella that he was the deputy that was assaulted the night before. He looked her up and down very obviously with a big smile.

“I’m Glenn Rhee and you can call me Glenn.” He said waving.

“Nice to meet you both.” Isabella responded.

Glenn looked at Daryl and raised his eyebrows and mouthed ‘WOW!’ Daryl just rolled his eyes. Rick took Isabella around and introduced her to everyone else, the receptionist, the dispatcher and the one jail guard that was on duty. Daryl stayed and continued talking to Jenner and Glenn.

“Looks like ya’ became someone’s bitch last night.” Daryl said lightly slapping Glenn on the face. Glenn slapped his hand away and scoffed.

“Damn Daryl! She is fine! Please tell me you noticed that ass. Cuz, damn! I sure did!” Glenn laughed, punching Daryl’s arm.

“Man, shut the fuck up.” Daryl said, rubbing his arm. “Why ya’ lookin’ asshole? Whattsa’ matter, Maggie not givin’ you no love? She finally come to her senses?” He laughed.

“Hell no! She loves me, man. How could she not?” Glenn said, flexing his muscle.

Daryl laughed and shook his head. “Phuh!” he said under his breath. “Just remember that, Short Round. That means keep your eyes off Isabella’s ass.” Daryl continued.

“Hey, I’m not married yet and I’m not dead, so I can look. What do they say? I can look at the menu, as long as I eat at home.” Glenn laughed. “Besides, what do you care?”

“I don’t, she’s just not like that. Ok?” Daryl said defensively.

“Not like what? I wasn’t saying anything bad about her, I was just pointing out the fact that she’s got a nice ass. Ohhhh! Wait a minute, wait a minute. You like her. Don’t you? Holy shit, Daryl likes a girl.” Glenn teased.

“Shut the fuck up.” Daryl growled.

Just then Charlie walked into the station.

“Hey Charlie.” Everyone said.

Rick and Isabella rejoined Daryl, as Charlie approached them.

Charlie had a big smile on his face when he saw Isabella. Daryl noticed the way he was looking at her and tried to step between them, but wasn’t fast enough.

Isabella smiled back. “Hi Charlie.” She said.

“Wow, Isabella. You look even more beautiful today than you did yesterday.” Charlie flirted.

Daryl’s face got hot and he glared. “No, she don’t. She looks the same.” Daryl said abruptly. Everyone went quiet and looked at Daryl, but no one said what they were all thinking. ‘WTF?’

“Uh, thank you Charlie.” Isabella said looking at Daryl.

At the same time, Glenn patted Daryl on the chest and whispered, “Smooth, dude. Real smooth.” He laughed and walked away.

Rick told Charlie he needed to talk to him. Charlie headed for Rick’s office and Rick followed, but not before looking at Daryl and shaking his head. Daryl felt like an idiot, once again. He hadn’t meant that she didn’t look more beautiful, he was just trying to shut down Charlie’s flirting. He kept putting his foot in his mouth, the harder he tried to play it cool, the more idiotic he came off. He smiled unsurely at her and tried to come up with yet, another apology.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Daryl said. “It’s just that… Well, you should… Charlie can be… Just watch out for him.” He finished quietly.

Isabella nodded her head, she was pretty sure she knew what Daryl meant. She was also hoping that maybe he was just a little bit jealous. Which he was. Daryl told her they should go, so she said ‘goodbye and nice meeting you’ to everyone, and they headed to Rick’s office to say ‘goodbye’ to him and Charlie. Daryl stood in the doorway between he and Isabella. Isabella took ahold of Daryl’s right arm again and stood beside him. Daryl smirked to himself, hoping Charlie was seeing how she was touching him. He did. Rick motioned to her come over to him and gave her a hug around the shoulders and she and Daryl were out the door, back in the truck and headed toward Daryl’s house.

As you drove down the hill that Rick’s house was on, you came to a fork in the road. Off to the right was the station and the main road into town. To the left was Pine Green Road. This was the road Daryl lived on. As they drove towards his house Isabella commented on how nice everyone was. She asked Daryl if he knew what kind of work she would be doing there. He told her he didn’t, but stated that he was sure she could handle it.

“Glenn looks so young.” Isabella commented. “Is he married?”

“Nah, but he’s got a girlfriend. Maggie. Rick’ll probably introduce ya’ to her. She’s nice, she just got outta’ college last year. You’d probably have some stuff in common, ya’ both bein’ smart and all.” Daryl answered. Isabella nodded her head. “Her dad’s a doctor at the hospital here. His name’s Hershel, Hershel Greene. They gotta’ farm out on Route 3. He’s a nice guy, you’d like him. Chris’s wife works with him. She’s a nurse.”

“Does Maggie have any brothers or sisters?” She asked.

“Yeah! She’s gotta’ little sister, Beth. He said annoyed. Maggie’s mom died a few years ago, so it’s just them three, plus Otis and his wife, Patricia. They work the farm for Hershel.” Daryl explained.

“Why did you say Beth that way.?” Isabella asked.

“She just... she’s always followin’ me around and shit. She’s a dumb kid.” Daryl answered.

“Sounds like she has a crush on you. How old is she? Is she pretty?” She asked.

“She ain’t beautiful, she’s alright, she’s kinda’ plain. She’s a 17 year old girl, but she looks like she’s 14.” He laughed.

Isabella was relieved. She didn’t want any competition coming between her and Daryl.

“So, she likes you?” She asked carefully.

“I don’t know. I guess. I don’t wanna’ talk about her. Maggie’s cool though. I think she’s 22. And Hershel? Well, he’s just good people. You’ll meet em’.”

“I look forward to it.” Isabella said enthusiastically. “Have you known Glenn long?”

“Nah, just a few years. He moved here from Michigan about 3 years ago. He was sposed ta’ go ta’ school, but he lost his financial aid. He was deliverin’ pizzas tryin’ to save up money ta’ go home and he met Maggie. So, insteada goin’ home, he stayed and joined the department. He’s a good guy, he’d give ya’ the shirt of his back if ya’ needed it. Maggie and him are sposed to get married next spring.”

“It sounds like he came for school, but stayed for love. That’s romantic.” Isabella said.

“I guess.” Daryl said flatly. “Don’t know much about romance and shit, but they’re good together.”

“I can’t wait to meet Maggie. What does she do?” Isabella asked.

“She helps work the farm, I think she wants ta’ be a vet or somethin’ with animals. I can’t remember. They got horses and cows and shit, so she helps take care of them and Hershel has a clinic he runs, when he’s not at the hospital and she works there with him too. She does a lot of different shit.” Daryl answered.

They’d been driving for about 20 minutes, so Isabella asked how far he lived from the station.

“About 13 miles. It takes a while cuz a this curvy road. We’re almost there. Why ya’ gotta’ pee or somethin’?” He laughed.

“No.” Isabella laughed. “I was just wondering. There’s so many trees out here. It’s beautiful.”

“Yep. We’re here, this is me on the right.” Daryl said, pulling into a dirt, circle drive.”

H(t~'5M'#�

#daryl dixon fan art #Carrion Trilevel #The Walking Dead #norman reedus #daryl dixon

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photolover82 · 5 years ago

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The Masked Singer Season 3 Episode 10: It’s Super 9 Time! (April Fools Episode Commentary and Guesses)

Hi my fellow Masked Singer peeps! It’s finally Super 9 time! Nick Cannon has been talking about this for forever and everyone wants to be here... so here we are! Half of the contestants are gone and now we have 9 left (well after this post it’s 8, but you get the picture). So, since I have so many to cover (9 is way harder than 5 or 6 when it comes to detail), I am going to follow a tighter format with me only mentioning the Super Clue and April Fool’s clue after the performance. I will also mention judges’ guesses just bc most of my guesses haven’t changed (except 1, you’ll see). Ok, so let’s get started...

Disclaimer: There will be a ton of spoilers so don’t read if you haven’t caught up on the show. Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.

So, how the Super 9 works was that each group (A,B, and C) performs and of the 3 contestants, the ones who were in the bottom 3 were: White Tiger for Group A, Banana for Group B, and Rhino for Group C.

Of those bottom 3, the one with the least votes who went home/got unmasked was:

*DRUMROLL PLEASE*

White Tiger

Ya, so is anyone really surprised at this point? His performance was um, ya, um... let’s just say my thought after watching was wtf man. I was a bit uncomfortable and hoping for it to end. He sang “I’m too Sexy” by Right Said Fred and let’s just say it was the strangest (and not in a good way) performance I have ever seen. Having said that, I have known for weeks who he is....

So White Tiger was revealed to be...

ROB GRONKOWSKI (AKA GRONK)

Super Clue: He was doing the floss dance and shooting a basketball while saying “Swish Swish.” Gronk appeared in Katy Perry’s Swish Swish music video, which also featured the Backpack Kid who popularized the floss dance. April Fools Clue: “I’m just not bronze, I’m brains. I even wrote a best selling book.” Gronk wrote a book called “It’s Good to be Gronk.”

Judges’ Guesses:

Jenny and Robin: Rob Gronkowski (they were right yay, thank God, finally the judges got it... well at least some of them)

Ken: J.J. Watt (sigh... Ken is always wrong... not shocked)

Nichole: Joe Maginello/John Cena (both wrong... sigh... Nichole is turning into Ken with the terrible guesses)

Alrighty, now that we are done with that, let’s talk about the remaining 8 contestants in the order they performed:

1. Turtle

Performance: Omg you guys know how in love I am with the Turtle and I was so happy and excited to see him perform once more, I really want him to win. In this performance, he sang Higher Love by Steve Winwood. I honestly loved it, it was amazing! He looked so cool and effortless maneuvering the stage. Also, it showed a lot of his vocal potential and I want to see more of what he can do with his falsetto and hitting the high notes, because he just gets better and better. Can’t you tell I just love him?

Anyways, having said that, my guess still stands as:

JESSE MCCARTNEY

Super Clue: Shown was a comic book titled “The Amazing Adventures of Shellboy” and it was priced at $10.13. He voices Robin in the animated series based on the comic book “Young Justice,” and it aired from 2010-2013, but it got renewed again in 2019.

April Fools Clue: “I am not just known for one thing.” This one is too easy, he is not just a musician but is also an actor in various roles in both film and TV.

Judges’ Guesses:

Robin: Drew Lachey (ya, wtf, no)

Ken: Brian Littrell (again, no... too simple to go the boy band route)

Nichole: Nick Lachey (ok, Nichole, that was just lazy, going off of Robin and picking the sibling, again I say wtf no)

Jenny: Chris Evans (woah, that one was way off of left field Jenny, almost a Ken guess)

2. Kangaroo

Performance: Ok, she isn’t my favorite ngl, but I can’t deny she is really good in terms of voice. However, this performance was not her best. Her voice was pretty shaky. The song, which was Not Ready to Make Nice by the Dixie Chicks, didn’t really show her entire vocal range I feel, but honestly if it is who I think it is, that’s a low key shady song choice, but I get the shade so I'm not mad.

The person that I am referring to as my guess is:

JORDYN WOODS

Super Clue: Inflatable Kangaroo came out of her pouch and she said “alright dolls” = the inflatable kangaroo could be a reference to her younger sister who she refers to as her “mini-me” and the dolls reference is when she played a doll in Justin Roberts’s music video

April Fools Clue: “I may be a kangaroo but I have never lived in Australia.” yup, self explanatory, the girl ain’t from Australia, and has never lived there.

Judges’ Guesses:

Jenny: Amber Rose (holy crap, that was painfully close, especially with the Kardashian drama and connection she mentioned as her reasoning for her guess)

Nichole: Leann Rimes (yikes, another really bad guess)

Robin: India Arie (idk who she is, but seems like an ok guess)

3. Kitty

Performance: Ok, ok, this is the one that I changed my mind about and it was such a hard pill to swallow to suck it up and say I am wrong and the Internet is right about this one. Every time I put my old guess on YT, (Lucy Hale) I always get “NO, IT’S *insert person I am about to mention in a moment*” and a bunch of people trying to convince me and I finally caved and agreed but that was because of one specific clue in particular, but we will get into that later. Her performance of Celine Dion’s “It's all coming back to me now” was so powerful and strong as are every Celine Dion song ever but to me it was her best performance to date and now I am clear on this new guess...

The new guess I have for Kitty that the Internet has nagged me about is:

JACKIE EVANCHO (she’s from AGT, she sang opera as a like 7-year-old, well that’s how I remember her)

Super Clue: The Tree from Season 2 and her saying “Christmas is the most wonderful time of year” = she has 3 Christmas albums

April Fools Clue: “I wasn’t dreaming when Robert Redford helped me get my first role.” = he got her the role in The Company You Keep when she was 12 years old.

Judges’ Guesses:

Robin: Emma Roberts (no... that doesn’t sound like Emma’s voice)

Jenny: Vanessa Hudgens (Vanessa can’t sing like that either)

Nichole: Nichole Richie (Really? Ya, I don’t think so.)

Ken: Avril Lavigne (You’re kidding, right?)

4. Banana

Performance: Ok, so this performance was much different from his previous ones. I feel like he is starting to show more of his true self and not hiding his voice as much. With the song “Sweet Home Alabama” by Lynyrd Skynyrd, he showed more rasp in his voice than he did before which kind of made it more obvious to who it could be.

That ever so obvious guess for Banana is...

BRET MICHAELS

Super Clue: A mullet was shown and Bret Michaels isn’t a stranger to the mullet, it’s a signature to his image

April Fools Clue: “Blue collar means many things. I’m a funny guy, but not stand-up funny.” Ya, easy again, Bret Michaels is the lead singer of Poison and he does have a sense of humor, but he isn’t a comedian nor has he done stand-up at all.

Judges’ Guesses:

Ken & Nichole: Brad Paisley (not their worst guess, but it’s too country of a singer... Banana fuses the country with a bit of rock)

Jenny: Bret Michaels (she’s getting it... yay Jenny is catching on)

Robin: Billy Ray Cyrus (see, this would have been a good guess, if he hadn’t have sung a Billy Ray Cyrus song in a previous round)

5. Frog

Performance: He sang “Jump” by Kris Kross and again he isn’t my favorite but he is pretty entertaining. For some reason, he is my mom and my friend’s favorite, which I don’t get. Whatever, anyways, this performance was fun and energetic and he is a great rapper/dancer what can I say? I feel the same way about him as I did about Kangaroo. Anyways, he is to easy to figure out...

My guess for Frog is still...

BOW WOW (aka Chad Moss)

Super Clue: Knight Armor= he was in a movie where he was a basketball player for the LA Knights

April Fools Clue: “I am actually not a trained dancer at all.” = ya, duh, he’s never been known for being one either.

Judges’ Guesses:

Ken: Sisqo (what? just because of one irrelevant clue, you choose that Ken... le sigh)

Jenny: Lil Romeo (meh... I guess that’s kinda close but no)

Robin: Omarion (again, like Jenny’s guess... kinda close but not there yet)

6. Night Angel

Performance: With her performance of Rise Up by Andrea Day (which is A+ song choice), she proves that she is one of the strongest vocally in the competition. However, that's it, she doesn't dance or entertain as much as some of the other contestants do. Nevertheless, she has an insane vocal range and I still am sticking with my gut on this one...

I am convinced Night Angel is....

Kandi Burruss

Super Clue: Tricycle= reference to either her 3 kids or her high school, Tri-Cities High School (or both who knows?)

April Fools Clue: “I am not just a voice, I am a mogul.” yup, self-explanatory, this lady does it all. She has a restaurant, a makeup line, a line of adult toys (let’s say that to keep it clean and PG) and has done multiple spin-offs of RHOA following her life, so mogul indeed.

Judges’ Guesses:

Ken: Tiesha Campbell (not the worst guess from Ken but still it’s a no from me)

Jenny: Brandi (idk man.... idk who that is)

Robin: Tamar Braxton (omg so close yet so far)

7. Rhino

Performance: Ok, so he was trying to be upbeat with What a Man Gotta Do by Jonas Brothers and I appreciate the effort, it wasn’t bad by any means. He does have a fantastic voice, but this was not his strongest performance. He did do a little dance move there and it was kind of everything ngl, but his strength is ballads. They just fit his tone so much better, but having said that, he took me a while to figure out but I feel good about my guess...

I feel like the Rhino is...

BARRY ZITO

Super Clue: A Slot Machine= he was born in Las Vegas (and he also got a baseball move called the three-quarter slot or something like that but I don't know sports so I am not good at these kind of things)

April Fools Clue: “I am not nearly as tall as you think I am.” The Rhino mask is as tall as White Tiger (Gronk is 6 feet 6 inches for comparison) but the mask adds more height to Barry Zito, who is only 6′ 2″

Judges’ Guesses:

Nichole: Vince Gill (meh... that’s a pretty ok guess but ya not there yet)

Jenny: Derek Jeter (what?! I get baseball referencing but he can’t sing, he has no albums, come on Jenny do better)

Robin: Duff McKavin from Guns N’ Roses (pretty ok of a guess too, but think less rock, more country... this would have been a more suitable guess for Banana)

8. Astronaut

Performance: Last but not least, another favorite of mine, we are starting off with a favorite and ending with another one. He freaking Rick rolled everyone (Google it if you don’t get the whole Rick Roll thing.. too long of a post to explain) with “Never Gonna Give You Up” by Rick Ashely, but it was the best Rick Roll ever like I can listen to his voice sing anything (objectively it’s a pretty darn good song if you remove the meme aspect to it). Damn, bro, like his falsetto in the song was amazing. Like I said for Turtle, I wanna see more of his range. Also, like he freaking spoke in his performance unfiltered voice and everything and it was so obvious who it is like how are the judges not getting this?

The lovely guy I think the Astronaut is (yes I have a soft spot for the Astronaut, don’t make fun of me)...

Hunter Hayes (and mind you, I also have a soft spot for him too)

Super Clue: Holding a record with a world on it breaking (breaking a world record)= we already spoke about this earlier but refresher this guy right here Mr. Hunter Hayes, ya him, broke the Guinness World Record for playing the most shows in most cities in 24 hours, with 10 being the number of cities he played

April Fools Clue: “I’ve never had traditional voice training” = easy, Hunter has said this in many interviews in the past and recently had issues with his voice so he got a vocal coach to fix it

Judges’ Guesses:

Ken: JC Chasez from NSYNC (really Ken? Boy Bands again? Are you really that basic and that clueless?)

Jenny: David Archuleta (not bad of a guess, pretty ok, but the voices don’t really match up)

Nichole: Ryan Tedder (again, not bad, but it is too obvious that it is like mind blowing they aren’t getting it)

Ok, so ya wow that was a lot! I did it tho! This was my recap, sorry for the length, but I hope you enjoyed. See you in the next one! So excited to see what they will be doing next!

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wetmini-blog · 7 years ago

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Glasgow

The plan was to sleep on the plane, which departed at 11:45 Halifax time (delayed because they would have gotten to Glasgow too quickly, like how often does that happen) and landed in Glasgow at 8:00am. So it was supposed to be a perfect go to sleep at night, wake up in Glasgow in the morning, and VOILA no jet lag. Well. The extremely tall tailwinds made the flight only 4 hours 13 minutes. (!!! normally this would be amazing.) Syna had filled me with spaghetti, delicious beer, two cones, and a gummy. Plus I had one of my trusty sleeping pills, I was determined to end my amazing talent of never being able to sleep on a plane. You'd think I'd be knocked the fuck out. But no. No, I was not.

A very delirious and dizzy Karyn stepped off the plane in Glasgow. All I had to do was walk out front, turn left and get on a bus. What I did was walk right, circle around a car park, twice, walk up a random street not meant for pedestrians, almost got hit by a bus, and chased said bus to where the goddamn buses were, right out goddamn front of the goddamn airport. Lugging my shit and getting drenched, of course. Wet, hot, dank, fogged up glasses Karyn gets on the bus, pays her 7 pounds 50 pence fare, and ok sweet, good to go. All I had to get me to the hotel was a lousy screenshot, and I say lousy because the adjacent streets weren't labelled, only the ones I needed. So, I get off the bus at the wrong stop, of course, armed with my useless screenshot, and proceed in the wrong direction. I wander around George's Square for a while, my leather laptop case gift from Kasia is entirely soaked, but I'm cool. And man, all this walking is making me thirsty. I know Scots give absolutely useless directions from experience, so I don't bother asking for a while. OK, Finally, fuck my life, I need to ask someone. I do, she directs me.... I walk in a circle and and right back to her. I make her give me the directions again, and I set off.

I get to the hotel. But it's not my hotel. I text Stmoo and ask him if I'm getting punked. He says, there's more than one hotel of that name in Glasgow. GOOD TO KNOW. I'm not angry though, I'm not rushing. I'm just thirsty and dank. The hotel guy gives me a map and shows me where to go: actually at the very top left of the map and I'm at the bottom right. Sweet. I ask him for a drink. He says bar doesn't open till Noon. I say, aren't I in Scotland? Like WTF. I set out. Go to another bar. No, no booze. So I ask some poor hapless local where the F in bloody well Scotland can I get a drink at this hour. She directs me to the Iron Horse, and bless her, the directions make absolutely perfect sense and get me there, in spite of her accent. I got this. I walk in looking like the Dank Baglady from Hell, drop my loads of shit, pony up to the bar, and ask a girl for a shot and a ha'pint. (Belhaven's Best is most similar to John Smith's and thus will be my beer of choice for the forseeable future.) She says, she can serve me a drink, but only if I eat some food. I show her I have pepperoni in my bag. She's not impressed. No, I must spend 3 pounds for a bacon roll. Cool, I order that. It was exactly a bacon roll. Some fried back bacon shoved into a breadroll. No fuss, no muss. Now I'm feeling a bit pepped up and ready to make the trek. Glasgow is like a tiny San Francisco, lots of hills. I strap on all my bullshit and head out, feeling still delirious but much less thirsty. Hours later and ten more sets of directions, I arrived at the hotel, stripped, laid on the bed, and fell asleep for 3 hours. When I woke up I was super confused as to why the fuck I woke up. Stmoo's train would arrive in an hour and I had to be a little less greasy and dank when that happened, as we'd be going out in public. Man, I did not want to wake up. That was super tough. I washed my face, put on my eyebrows, went to Rizza's shop (she wasn't there) and then back to the hotel to wait. As Stmoo walked up I stuck my head out the window and gave him a warm friendly "ELLO!" I gave him a minute to wash up and we set off to our first bar. I had chosen Sedongo or whatever it was called because Google told me it was cheap food and beer. The Scotch was a 12 year old Glenfiddy and it was only 3 pounds for a very healthy pour. I also ate some thai noodles and tempura tofu. You know, because when in Glasgow, eat fucking thai food? Yes. We swallowed our last mouthful and set off again.

Stmoo makes me fucking laugh. He says the weirdest shit. For example, the further we got from the hotel, the more I worried about his health and wouldn't he need his jacket? And to make fun of me and my coat and umbrella, he says "You're talkin' shite, you're under a brolley." And naturally I'm spending the day both getting used to his accent and imitating it. By 7:30 we had a bet going that I couldn't go an hour without mockingbirding him.

After the second - third? - bar, we somehow agreed that we had to find the shittiest, nastiest pub in all of Glasgow. We were meandering down towards the "wee fun place" (mini fair - he insists he did not in fact call it that) when some kid tried to abscond us to sell us something. Instead, we asked him where the absolute crappiest bar could be found. He gave a phenomenal set of directions - down until the subway tunnel and go right, then where there's another tunnel, go through it, turn right again, continue ahead, until we find a statue of a man in a gas mask. The bar's across the street. We followed these directions, but got thirsty, so slammed another pint in some shitty hipster basement bar, but to be fair it did look like they made delicious pizzas. We asked the bartender where the crappiest bar in all the land was, and he gave us the same name. When we got to the place we were very sad to see that it was not in fact shitty. Bottles of wine for 6 pounds. Bottles of beer for 98 pence. Come on, this is the best bar of all time, you fucktards. We set off again. We're learning that hipsters think shitty actually means awesome, so we need to stop asking fucking hipsters. I decide I need some food so we go into this totally packed hipster bar, I know, I know, I keep doing it to myself. But, they had poutine bolognese, and it was fucking delicious. They also had a gin I hadn't tried and that was good too. I had to make them correct their menu spelling of "reposado" because it offended me. So we ask the ginger kid where the absolute shittiest bar is, but this time, we get real specific. I say it has to smell like piss, and Stmoo says we have to be at actual risk of being shanked for cheering for the wrong football team. Kid's eyes go very wide and we can tell he doesn't want to tell us where to go, but he knows. HE KNOWS. So he gives us three places, totally glazing over the first one, which means, that's gonna be our winner. And we head off again. We walk into what is supposed to be a totally scary place, but it's totally not. The football game is in fact on, people are in fact angry (green team is down 2-0, apparently evil red team is winning) and no one tries to get out of the way at the bar for us to order a drink. Cool, snobby local crowd, but no one is super gangster or pissing on things. We can tell though, in about 2 hours, the place will be really unfriendly. Stmoo asks a dude at the bar if he can move over so we can order a drink, and gets a tongue lashing for wearing a red shirt. At the same time though, the guy kind of sidles over, so we get our drinks.We sat down at a table we invented, improvised stool of sorts, and were apparently surrounded by friendly people. People give you a dirty look, you're pretty sure they want to shank you, but then you say "I like your shirt!" and suddenly you're their best friend. We had a lady take a picture of us and everything. A server was picking up empties, and we asked her, ok SERIOUSLY, FOR REALLY REALS, where is the LITERALLY SHITTIEST bar in Glasgow? She said, that's easy, that's right next door! So off we went. And YES! In the doorway was a disabled gentleman with a cane, staggering inside. Good sign! We walk in, and our nostrils are filled with the glorious stank of piss and disinfectant. We've done it! These cunts are watching the football game, too. And red is still evil. Stmoo makes me promise not to tell anyone in here that he's from Sutherland. Sunderland? I don't know, I can't understand him. Again, Stmoo has to ask someone at the bar to scootch out of the way so he can order something. But he says "can I order something," and the guy says "you can order anything you want," without moving. So it took a really long time but we did end up with a whole round for 4 pounds. We make ourselves an even sketchier table out of a display shelf thing and two pilfered chairs. The place is a goddamn tomb, it is glorious. Like it was once a tomb that people pissed in and then set up a bar. It is horrid. It is exactly what we've been searching for.

Cue random drunk Scot that you can't understand! This pleasant fellow came up and chatted to us. Chatted to Stmoo, I had no idea what the fuck they were saying. Buddy was pretty sure Stmoo and I were getting married this week, so that's funny. I was doing one of those smile-and-nod smiles, and Token Drunk Scot says "aagghgh lookit the smile onthelassie." I go to the bathroom. And the bathroom is the WORST! The absolute worst lilac colour adorns the stalls, like the owner said, I run the absolute shittiest bar in all of Glasgow and I want the absolute shittiest lilac colour for the absolute worst toilets, can you sell me that please?

Back at our "table" which is completely in the way, this little arched passage that separated the two tombs, this kid staggers into Stmoo's drink and smashes it. He then leaves the building. I said I'm pretty sure that kid owes you a beer. So Stmoo chases him out. We get out of the bar and this kid's already halfway down the street, talking to two other kids. Stmoo goes over to tell the kid, pretty sure you owe me a pint mate, and the kid looks terrified and runs away, after doing a bunch of panicked "please don't hurt me" gestures.The kids that he was talking to tell us, he's really sorry, do you guys want to come to a gay bar? Stmoo and I look at each other, our shittiest bar mission was accomplished, so yes, let's gay karaoke. Fucking LET'S. The nice kids introduce themselves, with their gaelic names, Caitlin and Caeden. I say "My name's Karyn! We're the KKK!" They shush me, looking around to ensure no one heard, and then correct me that their names are spelled with Cs. I really like these kids, so much that I got Caeden's digits. They take us to a bar that's pretty gay and fancy and swirly, nice decor, red walls, round booths, and yet still a fucking hipster bartender. A gay hipster though, so that's slightly less awful.

Stmoo's fading now, I know he wants to go to sleep, but I really wanted to karaoke. I decided to be the nice guy and get him back to the hotel, telling the Cs that I will come back to Glasgow and I will call them and we WILL do karaoke. So suddenly I'm the fucking Master of Glasgow. Completely making up for my total directional failures earlier in the day, like Chris learning Spanish by drinking too much and losing a shoe, drinking in Glasgow has given me this perfect awareness of where we are and where we need to go. Stmoo keeps bitching about a taxi and I keep assuring him we're almost there. And from a totally different neighborhood, I navigated us safely home. But first, he had to get a bottle of wine from offsales. He tried to get me a bottle of whiskey, bless him, but couldn't. You can't get offsales after 10pm in Glasgow. I KNOW! It's supposed to be fucking Scotland! Traitors.

On the way back to the hotel, he stops in a supermarket for a corkscrew. I watch the entire hilarious shamble through the window, him wandering the aisles while the security guard watches him like a hawk.

The hotel was funny because Stmoo wanted to drink wine when he clearly didn't need any, and I was pretty pumped about sleeping. I did fall asleep, then I was having a dream about someone saying to me "how can you sleep through all this noise?" and woke up with his face snoring right into my face. It was 3am. After an hour I went to the reception and asked for another room, but they were booked. Fuck. So I had earplugs and headphones and bianural beats playing and I could still hear the fucker snoring. He also stole my blanket. I am pretty sure I never fell back asleep.

At 6ish for some reason, he gets up and tries to pour wine in my cup. I tell him to go fuck himself. He says "wha, you don't like someone babbling to you at half six?"

So I mean I hate him, it's not fair he gets to sleep, in his attractive outfit of only tighty whities, and I'm the one with the jetlag. But man, this sentence makes me fucking laugh. And then he's complaining that he can hear people checking out of the hotel now, "how can anyone sleep with all that racket?" How, indeed.

We got our lives together and headed off to the King Street station. Bought a ticket to Edinburg for 12 pounds. Got on the train car closest to the snack trolley. Once it came to me I asked for a coffee and an egg sandwich. Stmoo asked for a cider, and I said "you have booze? I don't want a fucking coffee!" Everyone on the car looked at me. I guess it was pretty loud. Then I looked at my egg sandwich and said "14 dollars! I don't want this sandwich." The kind Scot operating the snack trolley informed me, that's the time, it's only 2 pounds 70. Well of course that's the time to serve it by, this is after all, the motherland, where there are almost no preservatives in everything. Stmoo was quite amused by all this.

I added a tiny bottle of Jack to my order and poured it into my coffee, and said to it, "Get in me."

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