#i have nothing else to add i made myself sad with the caption :)

[thinkanamelater]

I am sorry that I was angry with you. Forgive me.

[calypsoff]

Fifty Nine. Part 2

Clinton honestly plays at my heartstrings with Chris, just to see a good father. He is ever so attentive towards Chris and I love to see it, he just comes out with the most random things too which makes me laugh but to see a father, it’s nice to see. I don’t know what one is, it’s been tainted for me because of my own and I don’t think I know what a real father should be doing “you good now yeah? No more tears” Clinton placed his arm around Chris and patted his shoulder “no more, I’m good now. I ain’t seen y’all in a while, I missed it. You know how much I missed you when I was locked up but yeah, I’m good” Chris makes me so proud, he really does. He just so open with his emotions with his family, even with me but I love that “so what is happening in the family, how is the baby? Tell me” Clinton asked Chris, he probably wants to hear what he has to say which I don’t mind “good, erm me and Barry aren’t friends anymore. I’m not sure what he is on at all, we just not speaking anymore. He was saying things that angered me that I ended up beating him, in the middle of iHop and I got arrested and now I got a court case. So that happened” Clinton looks horrified “again!? What did I say to you about letting anyone get to you! Seriously, you have so much going for you. I said it to you when you were first time arrested, I said to you that you are not like those boys out there that need to do these types of things. Barry isn’t proceeding the way you are Chris; you need to make new friends in that field. The people of VA you leave behind, nobody is happy for you” Clinton was harsh there “we understand why you both didn’t come to the home and we appreciate that you even came to VA, I’m very happy to see you both even came but we will come to you both” Joyce added “I’m not hiding though, fuck them” Chris said “you’re not hiding son, you’re fully there and we see it” Clinton is right “move to Cali, then I can see you when I want and then when Robyn isn’t speaking to me I can see you all” Chris would mention that “no baby, your sister is here” Chris pulled a face “but I would like you to be safe, you know Robb is throwing threats” Clinton looked at Joyce “I think your mother wants to stay in VA; our family is here. Only you are in Cali” Chris shrugged his dad’ arm off “yeah the family that don’t fuck with your son, ok. It’s just me” Chris is offended by what was said, I don’t blame him.

Chris as he does he’s walked off because he’s not happy, I’m not going to get myself involved because it’s his family “Clinton leave him, he needs space and we give him that” Joyce said as Clinton was going to get up and follow him “I just don’t want him to be sad, it’s a lovely day. Seeing each other” taking in a deep breath “do you all still speak to the family still? It’s just Chris?” I questioned, I want to know more actually “they speak to us yes, but when it comes to Chris he is a bit of a taboo, Robb is the first born grandchild. Spoilt, so when that all happened they took sides and it hurts me so much because he’s my only son, but I also want my family, We decided to just keep both sides happy and not speak on either, I know my son feels I am betraying him. I don’t know what else I can do without losing the family I got and have nothing” pressing my lips into a hard thin line “but then Chris had nothing besides you three? How was that fair on him. In that situation, coming out of jail and he came back to nasty behaviour. I just feel it’s hard for him, he did what he needed to do to be out, I won’t ever say he did wrong. You both got your boy back and that alone should be praised but how you think he feels when now he’s between you and that family you want” I shouldn’t be involved in this because it’s not my issue at all “it’s ok because I will have my own family” oh Chris heard then “son, you’re taking it the wrong way. You knew this, you knew the family didn’t forgive. We would always choose you over them, it is never like that but we are ok in VA, we really are so please let’s not argue, can we not” Chris made his way over to me and sat next to me “I have no family” looking over at Chris “stop” I don’t want this to be an argument, we didn’t come here for that.

Both Clinton and Chris went out to get some groceries, they took Frank with them. I wasn’t letting them go alone, I’m not risking it at all “Joyce, it’s playing on my mind and you can tell me to mind my business but. They want to kill your son, does that not hurt you and want you to not deal with them anymore?” I’m still on it “kills me deep inside. My sister came and she said my son is suffering, I said to her so is my son as you all wish nothing but bad on him so all he keeps getting is bad, I told Chris to go to church more, he needs the blessing because there is nasty people out there that are wishing it, those people is my family. I do want a change but all I know is VA, I am comfortable here” as a mother I can imagine how hurt she is about it all “all I knew is Barbados Joyce, but I did it and I was happier, hand on my heart a change could be best for you all because he wants to protect you all too, but that’s something you all want. Chris is a hurt man and I see it sometimes, he loves Barbados, he loves my family and minus my dad but how close we are. I see his smile and then he comes here, and he has no family around, it’s a shame. All they are doing now is selling stories about him, my publicist told me, and I said deny it all, he doesn’t know that, but I do. It’s just a nasty situation where now his cousin is threatening him, I feel like someone has put some witchcraft on him, you’re right. All those bad wishes add up and maybe we need to go church, but I think if you really want a change, make it” they are thinking on moving then they need to do that now before Chris gets the house for them.

Joyce touched my bump and it made me giggle “my mother would be jealous right now, she just calls me on FaceTime to stare at my bump. She’s so excited about this, she’s telling me she will move in for me and she will do this and that and I’m like hold on mommy, I am ok. Chris and I are ok, I just know Chris is going to be so supportive. But I think I will let her stay for a few days and then she needs to go home, she will take over. The baby is going to be so loved, I can’t wait” she cooed out “what you guessing? My mother said boy weird enough, she said the way I am carrying so I am so unsure, also Chris and I met this guy in Jamaica called captain and he knew so much, he turned around to me and said girl, I was so freaked out” Joyce gasped “wow, well I think girl. Oh baby I hope it is a girl, daughters are a pleasure. Such beautiful, spirited kids, boys are a pain. I enjoyed my daughter then I did my son but Chris himself, he was clingy to me, forever wanting me to pick him up but I feel like when boys grow up, they grow up to not be yours” Joyce has got a point “he also said we have four kids but one is vague and I questioned and said was one a miscarriage and he said no so that scared me, I don’t know. I hope it’s not anything awful” I sighed out “impressive” Joyce said and I laughed “well” I dragged out, her son has super sperm so it could be a thing actually “would you want that many? You’re a very busy woman” I chuckled “with the help and support from the love of my life yes it can happen, even if god blessed me once I am happy” Joyce cooed out “I am so excited for you both” this baby is going to be so loved and I can’t wait.

Sweet of Joyce, she cooked for us and I wasn’t expecting that at all. She made me sit down and not do anything at all, it’s nice “you know what, this was so nice. Thank you, but leave the dishes, Chris will clean up” I grinned at Chris “what?” He said confused “you heard me but it’s getting late, I don’t want you driving home and it’s too dark for you” Chris chuckled “she is trying to make you both leave, she is bored of you” Chris is such a liar “don’t listen to him please, he is a liar. But anyways, can we take a picture together, just before you depart. I want a in-law’s picture, I’ll get Rich to come and take it” getting up from the seat “oh god my hair is not done?” Waving Joyce off “stop it” making my way to the living room to get Rich so he can take this picture of us “Rich, can you take a picture” walking back on myself “what’s bout your bump?” Chris asked “your jacket” taking his jacket from the back of his chair, I just really don’t care about hiding about the fact I’m with my in-law. Putting Chris’ jacket on and zipping it up “don’t you think it looks better on me?” I smiled at Chris “mhmmm nah, better on me” Chris wrapped his arms around my shoulders “Rich can you notice my bump? Anything at all?” I asked as he aimed the camera up “erm no, the counter covers it” shuffling to Joyce and placing my around her “ok smile” I grinned wide, I probably look a mess but who cares “done” Rich made his way over to us, taking my phone from him “awwww thank you, I love this picture. I don’t look pregnant here at all, ok family” pressing next and adding a caption ‘I have the cutest in-laws’ pressing send on the picture “it’s been honestly so nice to see you both, but honestly. Chris will clean” I am being deadass, he thinks I am joking “awww, how long you both staying for?” Joyce asked “erm, I would say a few days. Spending some quality time together” I laughed to myself because that sounds stupid, we see each other anyways.

Chris is downstairs trying to figure which home he wants to get for his parents, I spoke to Chris last night about them remaining here, they are happy to be here so why change that for them. Even though for Chris I would have liked them to come to Cali but it’s fine, just because they are happy here so he is downstairs looking at different homes, he changed his mind on what he wants to get and I don’t mind because I need sort out his birthday gift or gifts anyways, but I don’t know what I am doing with this shit so I am getting my brother to help me, I have not a clue about this shit so while he is down there I am calling him “nigga, why you take so long to pick up” I scolded him “sorry, man I was just going to have a nap under the sun” he knows damn well I miss Barbados “asshole, so anyways. Have you done your investigation for me? I told you, if I say it to him he will clock on so I don’t want to ask” he better have spoken to him “yeah, I text him and said well lied to him. I said I am moving to Cali to be closer, and I am looking to get a car, well at first we spoke about sports and then I turned it into about cars, then he said oh my car is just an Uber which made me laugh but he spoke on Lamborghini, he said once he makes his money up he will get that for himself, so there. I did it” I have no idea about cars, they cute whatever but I don’t. I have that Porsche that is in a garage that I don’t even use “right so now what? Rorrey please, you got to do this for me” he has no choice he has too “right there is a few models but I am flying over sis so we can both go and look, don’t worry about it I got you” thank god he is coming.

As I come down the door knocked at the same time “I will get it” Rich said as he got up, I need to make some lunch actually, I am hungry. Slowly walking down the last step as Rich walked by me “you don’t look happy” I said, “I was having a nap” I gasped “so in that nap you were saving me from what?” Rich chuckled as he opened the door “oh wow, hi” letting out an oh, it’s TJ “I come in peace, honestly big man” Chris jogged by me “is that you TJ?” Rich moved to the side, TJ stood awkwardly with a car seat in hand but then he placed it on the floor as Chris jumped on him, giving him the biggest hug “oh man, it’s the married man” I smiled seeing them both hugging, seeing Chris happy with his friend “oh shit, oh my god. Is this Camron? Holy shit, who this white boy” Chris crouched down to the car seat “hi Rihanna” TJ waved at me “hey, come in. Chris bring the baby, come in. I am going to make lunch, you want some?” I asked “no thank you, I just ate. I really wanted Chris to meet my son, like I am so excited about this” watching Chris as he bought the car seat over to me “look at him, he fat and white” I cooed out looking into the car seat seeing this chubby little thing with the lightest hair “wow TJ, he is you!” I spat “he is so cute” now I am jealous, I Want my bbay with me now, Camron is so cute.

Walking into the living room and sitting next to Chris “ugh, I cannot wait for our baby to be here. Look at you being all daddy, TJ your son is beautiful. He is really you’re twin, god bless him” TJ laughed “thank you, I just wanted Chris to meet him, and it happened. I just wanted this moment, when he’s older I can start taking him to Cali, he will have someone to play with when little Breezy comes along but thank you” poking my lips out “come here, you are so precious” picking Camron off of Chris, slowly placing him in my arms “you really are a charmer staring at me with those big brown eyes” I should have known, like he’s a baby and they can sniff milk “aye, wait. No, those nipples are mine” I snorted laughing moving him away from my breast, this baby is ready for milk “oh shit, I just fed him, he probably senses it” lifting him up and sat him up on my lap with my hand behind his head “take a picture for me, do you mind?” I asked TJ “I don’t, I mean after the breast thing. You can” Chris aimed the camera, placing my hand just under his chin “mind the stomach” I added “Camron, hey nephew! Yeah, you going to smile at me, awww look at that” Chris turned my phone to me “cute, post it please and put. Just had a baby the world thinks I am pregnant with, I want to annoy the rumours floating around. This will throw them off” also just that alone will upset Seiko, she will be so angry about me posting her son.

[vitanes]

say it’s okay when it’s not

chapter 10: two slow dancers

Lucas tries to pull himself up after the accident, has conversations that make him breathe easier and receives an unexpected confession.

(a/n: internalised homophobia, suicidal ideation)

They were expelled. Lucas was sitting down on a chair next to the principal’s office, his body trembling when his father came out of the office and told him that. He also said Lucas could press charges against them, but at this point, Lucas’ brain had shut off. In all honesty, it stopped properly working the moment he had been attacked and Lucas wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to think normally again.

He lost consciousness due to all of the stress and pain so he only knows what happened from bits and pieces he was able to grasp when people recalled the event. As it turned out, Alexia and Daphne were walking down the hall when they saw what was happening. They quickly contacted the rest. Imane went to get the principal while the others came to Lucas’ rescue. His friends dragged the bullies away from him, landed a few punches themselves and soon enough the whole thing was resolved.

While Lucas was regaining his senses in the nurse’s office, his father was called in and by the time he was let out, his father was ready to share the news and drive him to the flat.

Lucas has been unresponsive ever since he woke up. He hasn’t said a word to any of his friends nor to his father. Under normal circumstances, he’d probably be baffled. He hasn’t seen his old man in months, their last conversations were messy. And yet, Lucas couldn’t find it in himself to care hard enough to even look at him.

He mechanically left the car once they pulled up by the building and didn’t look back at all before walking in.

He’s been broken to pieces and in the grand scheme of things, the issues with his father simply don’t matter.

 ***

 Lucas hasn’t been able to feel anything but pain and indifference for the past few days. He isn’t sure what caused the latter, but he’s certain it’s the only thing keeping him sane, away from exploding so he’ll take it over anything else. He hasn’t been able to eat, he’s been barely getting out of bed and all he’s been doing is sleep a lot. When he sleeps it doesn’t hurt as much. And people say that sleep is good for healing, so perhaps it’s not that bad.

His ribs, abdomen, various parts of his body are ugly purple and he can’t roll over without hissing in pain.

As much as he tends to overthink, this time his mind is blank and hollow. Full of white noise. And maybe that’s good, too. Maybe that’s what he needs right now. The only kind of peace his brain is able to offer him. If he doesn’t think, he can’t keep reliving that nightmare and it’s the best alternative even if it leaves a mere ghost of him present. Either sleeping or staring up at the ceiling with insistent buzzing at the back of his head.

Maybe it’s his phone. Or someone talking to him without him noticing them.

He closes his eyes and doesn’t dream at all.

 ***

 A few things happen. Lucas eats something, takes a shower, snaps out of his daze and has a breakdown over seeing all of the bruises over his skin.

He gets back to his bedroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist, water still dripping and limbs shaking.

He isn’t sure he can face the world ever again. He’s too terrified, too weak, too vulnerable.

He’s gay and that makes him a target.

There are more people who will want to hurt him, he knows that. Each and every person from his school who didn’t do anything while he was being attacked. A whole bunch of students who wouldn’t care if he had been kicked until he wouldn’t be able to wake up.

He doesn’t want it to happen. He doesn’t want to die because of it, God, he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to be ambushed and treated this way again. That’s why he can’t leave the flat. It’s too dangerous.

The world is too cruel out there and Lucas has never been much of a fighter to handle it. But he’s been a survivor and he’ll do what survivors do best – stay in safety, alive. Be hidden, unharmed.

 ***

 At some point, Lucas does what he shouldn’t. He checks his social media.

The moment he stumbles across all of the posts he’s been tagged in since Friday, he can’t breathe properly. There are very few sympathising with him, but the majority of what he sees makes his gut churn. So many people just make fun of it, as if it was nothing. He sees a blurry picture of the boys landing kicks on him and the caption says me vs my responsibilities. There are more of these and Lucas just can’t get his head around the fact his tragedy has been made into a meme.

Videos have been posted as well. With much hesitation, Lucas plays one. He hears people cheering, the way boots contact with his body and wailing. His own. The other videos aren’t any better. Only snippets, a few seconds but it’s enough to make Lucas’s heart beat faster. He’s cold with sweat, body shaking.

There is one clip showing the moment his friends entered. It’s messy, the quality is shit, but Lucas recognises them anyway. Basile is sent flying when he tries to pull one of the bullies away. Arthur jumps on the back of the tallest one, strangling him and yelling obscenities. Yann socks another one in the eye and gets a hit in return that makes him stagger backward, but he doesn’t seem defeated. Eliott runs into the last one and they both end up on the floor, fighting. The video cuts at the moment the principal arrives. Lucas’ wasn’t imagining things when he saw Imane before blacking out because she’s there, too. Trying to get to Lucas.

Something in Lucas’ chest squeezes and he watches the video two more times before moving on. He feels guilty. They were hurt because of him, maybe had to face some consequences for getting into a fight. They’ve got bruises on their skin.

Lucas is nothing but a burden to them. First with rent money, now this. He couldn’t even defend himself. All he did was lie down and be kicked, begging someone to help him. How can he be so weak?

The more he scrolls down the page, the more he realises it’s just a joke for others. He and his friends suffered injuries and people laugh at it.

Lucas clutches the phone in his palm, sniffing. He doesn’t think he can watch more of it. Seeing the way he was attacked like that has caused him so much anxiety he’s almost overflowing. He can feel every hit again when he moves his hand over his chest and lower, his fingers pressing against the bruises. The skin is tender and the harder he presses, the more he can’t take a proper breath. But he can’t stop his fingertips from dancing over the area, making him gasps with each touch. He is in pain, but he can’t stop himself. Can’t stop after what he’s seen. He must prove to himself the videos are real, that it happened and it’s not just a figment of his imagination. Not something that can be easily turned into a joke. That he was genuinely screaming for help, not acting for someone’s entertainment. But no matter how deep he digs his fingers into the raw flesh, he can’t shake off the feeling that he was only a puppet. A part of the show that has now become a meme.

Someone knocks and he jumps between the sheets, his hand stopping in the middle of his ribs. He looks towards the door, letting out a shuddering exhale.

“Lucas, can I come in?” It’s Mika’s raspy and quiet voice. He sounds off and Lucas briefly wonders why. Right after that, he thinks whether he should say yes. He hasn’t shown himself to any of them in a couple of days. And he isn’t sure he’s ready for it. So he stays quiet.

Much to no one’s surprise, Mika takes it as confirmation and opens the door. In the last second, before Mika steps in, Lucas removes his hand from under his shirt. He wouldn’t know how to explain himself.

Mika sits at the edge of Lucas’ bed and the way his gaze is boring into Lucas’ face is so intense Lucas can’t bring himself to meet Mika’s eyes.

“I can’t watch you doing this to yourself,” Mika says, his voice quiet. “You’ve been crying again,” he adds, reaching out his hand. He uses his thumb to wipe under Lucas’ eyes and it’s then that he realises his cheeks are wet. “Let me be there for you. Tell me what’s going on.” He retreats his hand.

“Haven’t you heard?” Lucas asks and his voice sounds so foreign to his own ears, he needs a moment to grasp the fact he said it.

“I want to hear it from you. I– you deserve to have a voice. I haven’t seen anything, I haven’t asked other people who seemed to know. I knew something was going on. But I’m not going to let someone take it away from you. So I stayed away from everything that could give me answers. It’s your thing to tell,” Mika says, his expression serious and Lucas believes him. He’s completely sincere and considering his lack of reaction Lucas was expecting when the pictures were leaked or when Lucas was hit with that ball, he knows Mika is telling the truth.

Lucas bites down on his bottom lip. “But you know,” he says as a statement and there’s so much sadness painted over Mika’s face in that moment, Lucas doesn’t need any other response.

Mika looks down at his lap. “It’s hard not to connect the dots when I see so much of myself in you,” he whispers, his voice sounding distant. He glances back at Lucas. “But maybe I’m wrong. I want to be wrong, have you tell me you’ve become a streetfighter,” he adds sheepishly.

Lucas tries to smile, but considering how Mika’s face falls he thinks he didn’t do a good job. He blinks a few times to will the tears away. He isn’t sure he can say everything without breaking down, but at this point, will he have enough power ever to do that?

Probably not, so the best way to tell his story is from the beginning.

“The reason I didn’t have money for rent was… was because I had to pay someone who caught me kissing a person I shouldn’t have and took pictures of us. But I ran out of money and they leaked the pictures. People have been giving me hell, but the guys from my PE class took it to the extreme. And here I am,” Lucas says and realises that even when he was telling the truth, he was using words so vague, that normally someone would find the whole thing confusing. One look at Mika, though, and Lucas knows he’s been understood.

He doesn’t have to say it out loud in order to be heard. Not when it comes to Mika.

Mika sighs loudly and moves closer. “I wish I had known earlier. I’d have helped you more. What happened to the blackmailer?” Lucas shrugs. He hasn’t heard from them in a long time. “The bullies?”

“They were expelled.”

“What about you?” Mika finally asks and the question is so loaded, Lucas feels like he’s been punched in the face once again. What about him? He’s beaten, lost, broken. He’s got no place in the world, he can’t look at himself and the worst of it all? Sometimes he thinks he deserved what happened to him. He knows he shouldn’t have thoughts like that, but every now and then the small voice in the back of his head, the one that always spits out hatred, will say that they should have hit him harder. “I can hear you thinking but I can’t hear you talking,” Mika says after a few minutes of silence.

And Lucas looks at him then, so earnest to help, so worried. Maybe he’d understand if Lucas told him?

“I feel awful. I don’t want to leave this place because I’m scared. And guilty for dragging my friends into this, but at the same time I think that maybe those guys were right to do this,” he says in one breath, his left hand curled up into a fist.

“Oh, Lucas… don’t. Please, don’t,” Mika says, placing his hand on Lucas’ shoulder. “Under no circumstances would they ever be right to hurt you for being you. And you haven’t dragged anyone into this. Friends help each other. Lucas, hey, look at me.” He puts a finger under Lucas’ chin and tilts his head up. Lucas’ eyes sting from unshed tears.

“What if I hate being me? Being this way?” he asks and Mika scowls at him.

“Tell me, what’s making the way you love someone worse than the way, for example, Manon does? Our sexuality isn’t wrong or dirty, how we feel isn’t any different. And honestly? Sometimes we love more deeply because we have a different understanding of things. Because we’ve been deprived of love in our lives. The way you are is beautiful and in no way, someone beating you up for that could be justified. We are already hated by society, you can’t let them convince you they’re right. You can’t let them win,” Mika says and the way his voice trembles by then end tells Lucas he’s fought enough battles to know what he’s saying.

“But if I was normal everything would be so much easier. No one would hurt me, think I’m gross, I wouldn’t be rejected. I’d have a chance in life.”

Something dark flashes across Mika’s face. “Does that mean you think I don’t have a chance in life? Or other gay people for that matter?” It’s the first time one of them used that word in the whole conversation and Lucas flinches.

“No, I–“

“We are normal, you, me. I know you have so much internalised crap in yourself it’s not easy to overcome, but I really wish you could realise that. We go to school or work, we fall sick and in love, we eat, we fuck, we have families. We’re sad, happy, we pay bills. We have to fight a little harder for everything, but we aren’t some weirdos. There are other groups of people that share the same struggles, you know? And sure, we’re the rejected ones, but when that happens we create our own homes, safe places. There are plenty of things people consider gross, but that can’t define you. You have to live your life for yourself. Don’t let the big white cis straight guy dictate how you should be.” Mika pulls away, his face full determination all over. And a part of Lucas feels inspired, wants to agree. It’s overshadowed by everything that’s been ingrained in his mind throughout the years but even if it’s merely a planted seed, an inkling, it’s an accomplishment.

Lucas wipes his face with his sleeve. “What should I do, though?” he asks in a weak voice.

Mika hums thoughtfully. “You can’t hide. You aren’t in a place where it’s easy for you to accept things, but you can’t hide. You can’t be easy prey. You have to fight back. There’s no way for you to go back into the closet anymore. So you need to embrace it. And even if you don’t believe it now, you know what they say, right?” Mika smiles at him encouragingly, a new fire in his eyes. Oh, how Lucas wishes he could feel the same.

“I don’t,” he breathes out.

“Fake it until you make it. Own it. Be unbearable. If they spit into your eye, you spit back. You don’t let that experience weaken you, but make you stronger. Report them. When they talk shit, talk back. Kiss the boy you like.” It all seems easier said than done. Lucas isn’t sure he could stand up for himself, especially that all other times he was paralysed by fear. But Mika is right with one thing, he can’t go back into the closet. The way he was outed was merciless and didn’t give him a way to deny anything. He needs to find an alternative.

“I don’t like any boy,” he says, remembering that part of Mika’s speech.

Mika looks at him, perplexed. “You don’t?” Lucas shakes his head and Mika blinks in confusion before waving his hand dismissively. “That’s beyond the point. What I mean is that you don’t let them crush you. I’m not telling you everything will get great, no. But don’t make it easy for them.”

There’s a lot of truth in what Mika’s told him so far. A lot Lucas still can’t take to his heart, yet. But maybe one day he’ll be able to feel the same way. One thing that surely reached him is that despite never being a fighter, nothing can stop him from pretending.

Mika can be many things; nosy, loud, all over the place, but the way he cares and gives Lucas will to live outweighs anything else. He’s family, a family that won’t leave Lucas alone with everything that’s been going on. And even if Lucas doesn’t love himself, Mika will love him twice as much. He couldn’t have wished for more.

 ***

 Lucas hasn’t gone to school but decided to leave the flat nevertheless. To clear his mind, maybe, or just get away from these taunting four walls. It’s been a few days since he breathed some fresh air and it could help him figure some stuff out. Do things he’s been postponing for weeks.

He asked Yann to meet up with him, by the lake. He thinks that after days of silence and everything that happened, it was the right moment to talk. And Yann is his person. No matter how much love other people offer to him, no matter how magnetic his connection with Eliott is, Lucas can’t deny the fact Yann is his home and the first one he wants to see.

It’s windy outside and Lucas thinks it may start raining any time. That’s good. There aren’t many people in the park. That way Lucas won’t feel crowded.

He came early, much earlier than the time they set up. To come up with what to say, to have a moment to brace himself before seeing Yann.

To make a phonecall he couldn’t bring himself to make in the flat.

It takes three signals for his mom to pick up.

“Hello? Lucas?” she asks. Even hearing these two words makes Lucas realise how different her voice is from the last time he heard her. How much more life there is in her. His throat closes up and he can’t speak for a moment. He expects his mom to hang up, think he dialed her by accident and simply press the ending-call button. But the call is still on once he finds his breathing again, his mother patiently waiting for him on the other side.

“Hi, mom,” he finally croaks out. His leg starts involuntarily bouncing.

“Hey, honey,” she replies, her voice filled with warmth. Lucas threads his fingers through his hair, making it messy. He should have texted her, it would have been easier.

“Is it okay to call?” he asks, looking around himself as if someone was going to jump out from behind the bush and told him off for calling his mom.

“Of course. It’s been so long since I heard from you,” she says, but there’s no accusation in her voice. Lucas would be angry if he was her. Not calm or understanding.

“How are you?” he asks, bringing his hand up to his face and brushing his thumb over his bottom lip.

“I’m quite well. I’ve been into knitting lately. Helps me relax. We finally found the right medication. I’ve been going to church. You know, the usual,” she says, laughing a little. She’s so different from how he remembers her. Last time he saw her, she was barely present, she was shaky and her skin looked almost translucent. “I’ve missed you,” she admits quietly. “Your dad doesn’t talk with me much so I couldn’t find out anything from him.”

Lucas pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and grits his teeth. “I’m sorry,” he says and he means it. He abandoned her for months, left her alone in the facility, fully aware his father didn’t give a fuck. He ran away from her when she needed him the most.

“Don’t be. You had the right to live. And I’m your parent, not the other way around. The situation was too much for each one of us. But don’t blame yourself, okay? I’m happy you called. That’s what matters to me. How have you been?” She’s composed for both of them and that’s what keeps Lucas grounded. He has no idea what he’d do if he had to be the comforting one again. Especially given his current situation. He really needs her right now.

“So much has happened, mom. Bad things. I’m not sure I can tell you through the phone,” he mumbles. Yann is going to come soon, he doesn’t have enough time to say half the things he wants to.

“We could meet,” she says and the breath in Lucas’ throat hitches. “Of course only if you want to. I don’t want to put any pressure on you. I know it could be too fast or–“

“No, no. We can,” Lucas cuts in. His mom sounded panicked for a second, like she overstepped the boundaries and Lucas doesn’t want her to feel that way. Not when she’s been trying so hard to reach out to him. “But there’s one condition,” he says, his voice cracking.

“Which is?” she asks hopefully. Lucas takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

“If you promise you won’t hate me, I’ll meet with you.”

“Why would I hate you?” There’s confusion in her words.

He takes a deep breath and counts to ten before speaking again.

“I’m– I’m gay,” he whispers, checking once again if there’s no one else nearby. It’s the first time he said it out loud like that. His heart is pounding in his chest and his palms are sweaty. He can’t believe that in the end his voice barely broke and he was able to utter it. It feels unreal.

His mother stays quiet for a few seconds and it feels like forever before he hears her voice again.

“Lucas, you are my child. I love you no matter what. Nothing can change it. All I want for you is to be happy. I could never hate you, especially not for something like this,” she says solemnly and Lucas lets out a watery exhale.

“Really?”

“Really,” she assures him.

“But God…”

“God makes no mistakes and even if he made them, it wouldn’t be you. He loves you as much as I do, if not more,” his mom replies and Lucas snorts through his stuffed nose.

“Okay, so we can meet. But not in church,” he says and hears his mom laugh. He missed her laugh.

“Fine, but I’m not meeting you in the facility, either.”

“We will figure something out.” She hums and they stay quiet for a few seconds before Lucas registers Yann approaching the bench he’s been sitting on and sits up straighter. “I have to go, but I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says and hangs up just as Yann sits next to him, nudging Lucas’ knee with his leg in the process.

“Hey, man. Who were you talking to?”

“My mom.”

Yann smiles slightly under his nose. “How’d it go?”

“We’re going to meet up,” Lucas replies, his eyes glued to the cut and bruise on Yann’s cheekbone. “You got hurt,” he changes the topic, frowning. He watched the clip where the boys appeared too many times not to know where this injury is from.

Yann clicks his tongue. “Not a big deal. You’ve got it worse.”

“Still. You got hurt,” Lucas mutters stubbornly, reaching his hand out. He brushes his fingers over Yann’s cheek and sees a muscle in his jaw ticking under his touch. “I’m so sorry.” He lets his eyes fall down.

“Shut up,” Yann replies, grabbing Lucas’ wrist and bringing his hand to his chest. “I’d do it again, thousand times. The same with the guys. When I saw you lying there,” he wraps his fingers around Lucas’ palm and squeezes, “for a second I thought I lost you. They were kicking you and you weren’t moving. I don’t care about the bruise. I care about you, about the fact all those people who gathered around you did nothing, about those bullies getting away with that. Which they won’t.” He turns towards Lucas. “I don’t know if you pressed charges against them, but we all did so. We went to the police, we showed our injuries and the videos people posted online. You promised we weren’t going to let it go if something else happened, so we aren’t.”

Yann drops Lucas’ hand and it falls into his lap. Yann scrubs a hand over his face.

They stay quiet, the only noise being the wind blowing around them, moving the branches and making waves in the lake. Lucas keeps staring at Yann while Yann is looking straight ahead, squinting his eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this worried. And this applies to all of us. But. Lucas, you’re my best friend. You’re like a brother to me. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I hadn’t stopped them. And I know you’d do the same for me.” Lucas knows this, too. If there was someone causing Yann harm, he’d be an unstoppable force. That’s just their thing. They are protective of each other. Lucas wouldn’t mind getting a few hits if it meant Yann would be safe. So he understands what he means. But it’s not easy to ignore the guilt building up in him, anyway.

Yann got hurt because of him, that fact stands and Lucas can do nothing about it. He hates feeling so helpless. That must be what Yann was going through when he didn’t know what was going on with Lucas for all those weeks.

“Stop being sorry, stop overthinking it. If anyone should be sorry, it’s the assholes who attacked you.” Yann looks at Lucas and jerks his chin up. “How are you holding up?”

Lucas looks to the side, wets his lips with tongue and says, “Could be better.”

Yann hums. “Have you talked with any of the guys or girls?”

Lucas shakes his head. “You’re the first one,” he mumbles and Yann looks bashful for a second before composing himself.

“They all miss you and worry about you. So when you come back to school be prepared for that. Let them have it, okay? I know it may be annoying but you haven’t seen yourself.”

“I don’t know when I’ll come back. I’m scared. And at this point I’m not sure I’ll pass the year with how much I skipped,” he says, scratching the side of his neck.

“Take your time. And don’t worry, I’m sure you will pass. Don’t give up. And if someone makes things difficult for you again, we will wipe the floor with them.”

Lucas glares at Yann, but there’s no malice in it. Once he’s ready, he will get back to school and he’s going to endure his friends’ protectiveness, he will try to face the troubles that are yet to come and rebuild himself from scratch.

“Thank you. I have no idea what I’d do if not you,” Lucas admits and Yann bumps him in the shoulder with his fist.

“Stop saying that or I’ll cry,” he mutters under his breath. The corners of his lips are twitching up and Lucas can’t help but smile as well.

He throws his arm over Yann’s shoulder and brings him closer.

 ***

 Lucas is taking a nap when he’s woken up by someone loudly calling for him. That someone is Mika and Lucas leaves his bed and room only to tell him off. He’s tired and knowing Mika, it’s probably something very trivial.

While stomping towards the place Mika is screaming from, Lucas doesn’t even open his eyes, fully prepared to go back to sleep in a few minutes. He’s in his rumpled t-shirt that’s slipping off his shoulder, briefs and his feet are bare. The floor is cold and Lucas is going to murder Mika for wanting something from him.

When Lucas eventually reaches Mika, he realises they’re standing by the open door and tilts his head to the side.

“Wouldn’t you look who’s just visited us?” Mika says, wiggling his eyebrows and Lucas looks to the open door, confused. His eyes widen momentarily when he sees Eliott standing on their doorstep, looking bashful and holding up two pizza boxes.

Lucas catches his reflection in the mirror placed by the clothing hanger and is mortified by how his puffy his whole face is and every single strand of his hair is facing in the different direction. He can feel warmth climbing up his neck and reaching his face.

“I hope it’s okay to come. If not I can leave the pizzas and go,” Eliott says, looking nervous. Lucas opens his mouth to say that he’d really appreciate it, no matter how much of a prick he’d be, but Mika beats him to it.

“Nonsense, come in,” he ushers Eliott in and takes one of the boxes from him. “It’s for us, right?” Mika asks, eagerly eyeing the box.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

Mika looks meaningfully at Lucas, his lips stretched in a wide grin. “God, you’re perfect,” he says to Eliott. “Have fun!” Mika exclaims, taking his box to the living room where, going by the excited noises coming from the room, the rest of Lucas’ flatmates are.

So Lucas is left with Eliott alone, looking like death, in only an old t-shirt and boxer briefs. They are both looking everywhere but at each other and after some time it gets unbearable.

“I really can go. I don’t want to bother you,” Eliott says, shoving the pizza into Lucas’ arms. For some reason Lucas shoves the box back and they end up pushing the box between each other for a minute or so before they realise how ridiculous the situation is.

“No, come in. I have to say I wasn’t prepared, but it’s fine. Although, I’m tired of talking about what happened. So can we not?”

Eliott smiles at him and nods, his hair jumping with the movement. “Sure. We can just chill.” He shrugs. Only then does Lucas notice a tiny bruise on Eliott’s jawline and his bottom lip being split. Eliott must see him looking because he raises one of his eyebrows. “We aren’t talking about it, are we?” he teases and pushes the box against Lucas again, this time letting go of it completely. Lucas barely manages to catch it. He tries to ignore the pang of guilt when he moves towards his room.

Eliott is right behind him and that makes Lucas very much aware how underdressed he is. It’s frustrating in a way. He doesn’t want to flesh Eliott accidentally. That would only make things awkward.

Lucas locks the door to his bedroom behind them and puts the pizza on the floor. He opens one of his drawers and takes out a pair of sweatpants. While he’s pulling them on, Eliott makes himself comfortable next to the box. Lucas joins him soon enough.

“Pizza again?” he asks, opening the box. Eliott shrugs one shoulder in response.

They start eating, without exchanging many words between the bites. Before they know it, the pizza is eaten and their stomachs full. It’s silent and Lucas finds it pleasant. He likes moments like that with Eliott. He doesn’t feel pressured to say anything. It makes him appreciate what happens in this exact second. The company and the atmosphere.

Lucas slides down to the floor with an ‘oof’ and scrunches his face up. Too much movement and his body aches. He’s missing out on his healing sleep.

“What have you been up to?” Eliott asks, poking him in the shin with his foot.

“Sleeping, being sad. I called my mom. We’re meeting up next week,” he says, looking towards Eliott.

“Oh, that’s nice. I mean the last part,” he replies, rubbing the tip of his nose with his fingers. His cheeks are dusted pink. It’s probably the light.

“I told her that I’m. You know.” Lucas looks meaningfully at Eliott and gets a nod in return. “She said she loved me no matter what,” Lucas mutters, his voice airy.

“I’m happy. You deserve that.” Eliott sounds genuine, but there’s also something nervous about him. Like his head is somewhere else. Lucas cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Everything alright?” he asks and Eliott chuckles.

“Yeah. It’s nothing. Really.” He waves Lucas off. “Can I put on some music?”

“Go ahead.”

Of course, he plays dubstep. What else.

“Oh, I forgot how exquisite your taste is,” Lucas says in amusement. Eliott places a hand to his chest.

“How could you?” he asks, dramatically wiping a fake tear from under his eye.

“I thought that maybe I dreamed it.”

“I doubt your brain is capable of coming up with such excellence,” Eliott says, standing up. He shakes some invisible dust off his clothes and moves the pizza box to the side with his foot. He extends his hand towards Lucas and looks at him solemnly. “May I have this dance?”

Lucas eyes him and the palm quizzically, but eventually grabs it and lets himself be hauled up until he’s chest to chest with Eliott.

“I’m not going to start jumping to your renovation sounds,” Lucas tells him, looking him straight in the eyes. Not realising their proximity yet.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to,” Eliott says. He’s still holding Lucas’ left hand and his fingers brush the knuckles of Lucas’ right hand gently before he grabs it and puts it on his shoulder. He places his own palm on Lucas’ waist and brings their entangled hands up.

They start swaying and Lucas looks at Eliott like he’s grown a second hand.

“Are we slow dancing? To fucking dubstep?” he asks in disbelief. Eliott ducks his head.

“Yes, we are,” he replies simply and pulls Lucas closer, until they are flush against each other. Lucas yelps, but doesn’t say anything else, too baffled by what’s happening.

Lucas lets Eliott lead them around, following his steps. They move slowly enough for him not to step all over Eliott’s feet or lose breath. His ribs aren’t aching as much and at some point, he’s lulled by the rhythm so much he rests his chin on Eliott’s shoulder. He gets even closer to him, but he doesn’t make anything out of it. Surprisingly enough, he’s content. And relaxed. The dubstep is only a background noise, he’s pretty sure Eliott has his own melody playing in his mind and he makes Lucas follow it.

Lucas closes his eyes and sighs out loud.

Eliott intertwines their fingers and Lucas can feel his breath ghosting over his neck. “I have to tell you something,” Eliott murmurs.

“Yeah?”

“It’s probably obvious by now, but I want to say it anyway,” he pauses and exhales loudly, making goosebumps break out over Lucas’ skin. “I like you. I’ve liked you ever since I saw you. I know my timing is awful. I know that we haven’t been friends for long, but I wanted to be honest with you,” Eliott admits, his voice strained.

Lucas opens his eyes. He can feel his heart speeding up. He misses a step.

“I know I’m putting a lot on you. I don’t… I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t want things to change between us. There’s so much shit going on. So don’t say anything, okay? I just wanted to let you know.” Eliott’s grip on Lucas’ hand tightens for a moment and Lucas can feel how despite sounding calm, he’s trembling.

Lucas is still shocked by the confession, but they are friends first and foremost. Eliott is distressed. So Lucas pushes closer against him and starts rubbing circles with his thumb over his shoulder. He hopes it’s comforting.

“Is it still okay? Us, doing that?” Lucas doesn’t see a reason why it wouldn’t be. He nods. “Can we stay like this a little longer?” Eliott asks in a small voice.

Lucas squeezes his hand.

“Yeah.”

[camillemontespan]

this is your invitation to the beaumont bash [interview with maxwell beaumont]

I wrote this last week and it’s been in my drafts since. This is Maxwell’s turn for an interview (I know it might a weird way to write fic but I actually kind of enjoy writing this sort of thing).  It’s pure fluff. 

I also did this for Drake, which you can read here

@jovialyouthmusic @pug-bitch @moonlightgem7 @sirbeepsalot @drakesensworld @brightpinkpeppercorn @katedrakeohd @notoriouscs @be-still-my-aching-heart @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @dcbbw @iplaydrake

****************************************************************************************

‘Cinnamon brioche bun?’ 

Maxwell Beaumont brandishes the pastry at me, a wide grin on his face. I have no choice but to take it; I feel like if I reject it, it will be like kicking a puppy. 

We are sat in the Living area of the Beaumont Manor. It is now September, the month of the annual Beaumont Bash. It is like the Met Gala but on a lesser scale. That said, it is still the biggest party in Cordonia and anyone who is anyone marks the Bash in their calendars.

The Beaumont Bashes are legendary. Maxwell and his older brother, Bertrand, the Duke of Ramsford, are renowned for spending obscene amounts of money on menageries, fire breathers, a torchlit procession - yes, really- and everything else in between. 

Today, I am interviewing the younger Beaumont brother as he is in the final stages of planning the Beaumont Bash.  This is Maxwell’s first interview and I’m honoured he agreed to meet me. In three weeks, the Beaumont manor will open  to the elite of society and wonders will await behind the door. He is giving Duke Magazine exclusive behind the scenes access to his final touches and judging from the mood boards he has propped up against the walls, this may be the biggest Beaumont Bash ever.

Maxwell is taller than he looks in photographs. He is lanky and a smile permanently lights up his features. His voice isn’t that deep, more soft and lilting, occasionally increasing into a high pitched screech as he gets excited showing me his mood boards. 

‘Last year, the theme was Greek Odyssey,’  he tells me. ‘So think white dresses, white suits, waitresses dressed like goddesses, we had a giant fountain in the foyer with a life size statue of Poseidon built into it. But this year, we’re going bigger.’

He guides me over to the biggest mood board he has. It is pinned full of images of flapper dresses, vintage cars, bathtubs with champagne bottles inside, fireworks. The theme is obviously the 1920s, which seems apt considering a Beaumont Bash is always decadent and excessive. 

‘I’ve hired a stage show!’ he says. I ask him to repeat that, certain I’ve misheard.

‘As in, I’ve hired a stage show!’ he repeats. ‘The Great Gatsby is currently on Broadway in New York, so I’ve hired the cast to come to the Bash and act out their show! It’s a musical!’

He runs me through the night’s time line. ‘Okay, so 7pm, our guests arrive. They have to dress up in 1920s style, otherwise there is no admittance. Sorry, but an effort has to be made.  Drinks and canapes will be served - note the fountain which will pour out champagne- and then the stage show will perform for an hour and a half. Afterwards, fireworks outside, more drinks, more dancing, more debauchery!’ 

He leads me outside to the vast gardens. ‘The stage show will perform here,’ he says, pointing to a stage. As we walk, I study him. He is fizzing with energy. He is like a champagne bottle that has been waiting to be opened for months, before being shaken and its contents burst out of the bottle. I ask if he has always enjoyed parties and party planning; clearly, this should be his job.

‘I’ve always loved parties,’ he says. ‘My parents used to throw legendary parties when I was younger. I was always sent to bed early, just as the guests were getting a little more excited, and I would always sneak out of bed at midnight to watch. I’d sit on top of the stairs, trying to stay hidden, and watch as the guests drank more champagne and danced. I once saw my father use a sword to open a bottle of champagne; I learned how to do it so I can continue his party trick.’ 

I tell him that it’s interesting that his brother gets involved. The Duke of Ramsford is often seen with a serious expression on his face, tight lipped. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who lets his hair down but as photos and witness accounts tell me, he is the first person on the dance floor and the last to leave. 

‘I think the Bashes give him an excuse to let loose,’ Maxwell admits. ‘He is always so serious, so responsible.. hosting the Bash means he can put on a different persona, be the person he wants to be. Do you think he enjoys wearing sweater vests? Hell no! If it was up to Bertrand, he would wear kimonos and sparkly boots every day. He is a flamboyant peacock hidden in the body of a pigeon.’

I blink at this description but I don’t question it; Maxwell knows his brother inside out. He takes me back into the manor and upstairs to his bedroom. It’s a large space, painted blue, with beautiful artwork hanging on the walls and random items that he tells me he picked up in flea markets or while on holidays to far off places.  There is a painting of a peacock on the wall above his bed. 

‘Peacocks are my favourites,’ he says bashfully.  I ask why. It’s not like they’re cute or cuddly. 

‘Why wouldn’t they be?!’

I ask Maxwell what he does in his free time. 

‘I plan parties, I write, I like to visit museums and galleries..’

I’m surprised and I tell him so. 

‘Why?’ he asks me. ‘Museums and galleries are where I get my inspiration. I visit the exhibits and I think of what I could do next. A few years back, I visited an exhibition about India and I was obsessed with this beautiful silver and blue sari that was on display. I went around and managed to source similar material and had it made into my own outfit; the Bash that year was India themed. We had elephants in the garden and the food was excellent.’ 

He looks down, picking at his fingernail, before saying quietly, ‘Life is meant to be beautiful. I never see things in black or grey. Everything to me is vivid. It has to be bold and bright; it’s why I’m always happy and positive. Life is to be enjoyed and surrounding myself with pretty things, making pretty things.. it makes me happy.’

I see now that Maxwell Beaumont is always underestimated. Many of the public just view him as a party boy who doesn’t contribute anything to society.  Others adore him, mainly because his Instagram feed is full of fun photos of holidays, his friends, animals, books he is reading. 

But he is so much more than that. In front of me is this young man who has a membership to the National Museum of Cordonia. He has a subscription to Architectural Digest magazine. He tells me he is currently writing a spy novel. He is warm and kind. I like him.

He stands up and opens his wardrobe to show me his outfit the Bash. It is a white shirt with black trousers, but he has made it interesting by adding a blue sequin blazer, blue sequin bow tie and blue suede loafers with silver tassels. He adds white gloves and a pocket watch on a chain. 

He gives an excited giggle and claps his hands together. I ask who is on the VIP List. 

‘Drake and Camille, obviously,’ he begins, name checking the Duke and Duchess of Valtoria. ‘I’m so excited to see how Camille depicts the theme, I’m thinking she’s going to be all sultry... the King is going,  his brother Leo, Olivia, Hana...’

Maxwell blushes when he mentions Hana Lee’s name. The best friend of Duchess Camille of Valtoria, Hana has been spotted out on Maxwell’s arm over the past six months. The two of them kept their relationship private for a while but eagle eyed fans watched out for candid photos. When Maxwell finally made it Instagram official with a photo of the two of them at a carnival sharing candyfloss, with Hana shoving a big piece of it in Maxwell’s face as she laughed, captioned with a heart emoji, his followers rejoiced.  They christened them Hanwell. 

Having interviewed Hana myself, I was surprised to hear about the two of them. Hana is shy, quiet and incredibly polite. She was a tricky interviewee to begin with as she seemed so nervous in case of divulging private information, but once she settled and got into the swing of the interview, she opened up and was giggly, sweet and complimenting my shoes. 

In contrast, Maxwell offered me a cinnamon brioche bun before I had even sat down. 

But, having talked to him more fully now, I guess I can see why the two of them work.

‘I push her to be bold,’ he tells me. ‘She can be so down about herself but she is honestly brilliant at everything. Anything she does, she turns to gold. But she often doesn’t believe in herself so I push her to just do her best. Believe in herself more.’

What does she do for you? I ask.

‘She makes me see that I don’t have to be 100% on all the time. I’m allowed to feel sad, or be quiet, or just stay still. I’m always on the go, needing to do things. Maybe it’s because after my parents died, I felt like I needed to be the one to make my brother laugh.. I made myself into the joker, the fun loving guy. But Hana has taught me that it’s okay to have quiet moments and not to pressure myself to be constantly on adrenaline. I can relax and nothing is going to go up in flames.’

I feel I need to probe him further about his dynamic with his brother but I don’t want to over step. Their parents died in a car crash when Maxwell was ten and Bertrand was fifteen and it is common knowledge that Bertrand became Maxwell’s guardian - their family is very small and as a result, they were the only Beaumonts left. 

Maxwell waves his hand away. ‘You can ask me,’ he tells me. ‘Bertrand is basically my dad, brother and teacher in one. He’s taught me so much about the importance of being a Beaumont, about our roles in society. He always made sure I studied hard at school; considering I couldn’t sit still most of the time, he made me put my head down and just work. I studied loads and got A’s across the board. I was such a geek! But in all seriousness, Bertrand assumed this responsibility for me. I owed it to him to work hard at school.’ 

Maxwell went on to study at Cordonia University, despite achieving top grades. He could have attended a more prestigious institution but, as he tells me, he wanted to experience something normal. 

‘My life, being a Beaumont, it’s not normal,’ he admits, flopping down onto his bed. ‘I’m friends with the King. My life is just a carousel of parties, titles, etiquette, balls, money.. so when I graduated from high school, which was a private education that was full of boys like me, well, I wanted a change. So I chose to go to Cordonia University. Just to stress, it’s not a bad school in the slightest. It’s a great school; but compared to the institutions I could have gone to, it was on a lower level. I hope that comes across okay? I don’t want to sound arrogant..’ 

He blushes and stammers, trying to think of the best way to word it. I can tell you this now, reader; he is not arrogant. 

‘Anyway,’ he says, giving up on trying to justify his words, ‘I went there and I loved it. I still studied hard but I made friends with people who weren’t noble. Bertrand wanted me to have a bodyguard with me at all times but I said no; I wanted to be a normal student. So for four years, I went to lectures and seminars. And the parties! That was my proper education! Beach parties, pizza parties, revision parties... so many parties! But some of the people I’m friends with are still from my university years. I think it’s why I’m not exactly your typical noble..’ 

He certainly isn’t that and it’s quite refreshing. 

Maxwell finished university with first class grades  (despite all the partying) and came back to Cordonia to learn the ropes from Bertrand. 

We go back to lighter topics. I ask what he thinks about the Met Gala. 

‘I am waiting on my invitation from Anna Wintour...’ he says, giving me a wink. His face then goes serious. ‘I mean it, I’m waiting. You work under the Conde Naste company right? They also house Vogue. Ask her to send me an invite!’

I wonder which celebrities he thinks interprets the Met theme perfectly every year. 

‘Blake Lively,’ he says instantly. ‘Oh my God, her red dress and that crown she wore last year, god she looked incredible! Rihanna too, dressing as the Pope. I would love to invite her to a Bash. Who knows what she would do?!’ 

My questions turn to his guests. Who drinks the most? I think it has to be the Duke of Valtoria, due to the fact he is known for always drinking whiskey at balls and never champagne, and that he just looks like he can drink you under the table. 

‘You would think that Drake drinks the most..’ Maxwell muses, ‘but honestly - I hope he doesn’t kill me for saying this because this could be treason.. is this treason? Can he decide what’s treason and what isn’t? Fuck it - King Liam. Liam drinks the most.’

I choke on my water. 

He nods quickly. ‘The King, god save him, loves to let loose. He tried to raid our wine cellar once. Bertrand caught him.’

I ask who is the heavy weight.

‘Olivia,’ he answers. I blanch at her name. The Duchess of Lythikos is notorious for her cold exterior. Every journalist I know who has met her have left their meetings with her in tears. 

‘Yeah, Olivia can shot straight vodka and just doesn’t feel any effect,’ he says. ‘By contrast, Camille can handle four drinks then ends up trying to steal the sword I use to open champagne bottles. A trip to A&E happened once.. ohhh boy, Drake looked like he was going to kill me for letting his wife near that thing.. '

I am tempted to get the full story on this but I have a feeling Maxwell won't be as forthcoming. Drake Walker might actually kill him this time.

We go back downstairs to the kitchen. Maxwell shows me his plans for the menu at the Bash. ‘Canapes first, but they’re... scientific...’ he says mysteriously. He won’t tell me why they’re scientific but I imagine they’ll taste interesting. ‘My favourite food item is always the dessert. This year, I’m putting together something mixed with Toblerlone, Nutella and marshmallows. A sugary feast!’ 

He starts to look impatient to continue his planning so I take this as my cue. I start to pack away my notes and dictaphone. Maxwell gives me a warm smile and stretches out his arms. 'Bring it in!' he hollers, pulling me into a bear hug.

I part from him awkwardly. Maxwell goes pale. 'Okaaay so what's the correct way to say bye to a journalist? I've never been interviewed before.. Sorry, I'm a hugger, everyone always gets a hug from me.'

He steps back and he looks at the table before clicking his fingers. He reaches out for a wrapped item and hands it to me.

'Another for the road!' he beams.

It's a cinnamon brioche bun.

[katsukiboom]

Hi I'm so sorry but I completely forgot weather or not I requested this from you already or not if I did just delete this please hahahhaha anyways. could I request a bakugo × chubby!insecure reader and its starts off with angst from her being bullied about it and ends in fluff And happiness. I'm sorry if I sent this twice I just genuinely can't remember and also feel free to add anyone you like to this if you want tysm!

You hadn’t sent it dear, it’s okay! I’m sorry for the delay, I’ve been awful at writing scenarios lately, but I hope you like this! <3

Katsuki first started to notice the little changes in your attitude when you showed up to a date one day, wearing your sleeves a bit longer than usual and looking down, refusing to even grab his hands as he knew you liked to do. He said nothing as he looked for your touch anyways and when you shyly complied he noticed the bright blush that tinted your cheeks and the pout on your lips, but he thought it was only because of him and held you tightly as you walked together to your favourite fast food place.

The worry that something could be happening when you were away from him at your own school appeared on his mind when he picked you up a Saturday afternoon after some supplementary classes you had - you almost ran off the place and threw yourself into his arms, your eyes red and puffy but he wouldn’t push the subject, instead choosing to walk away as fast as he could to get you somewhere you’d feel more comfortable. You were shaking when you hugged him, and it infuriated him to think someone could be doing something bad to you.

It wasn’t until the first time he visited your house that he decided to take matters into his own hands; he was just sitting in your bed, waiting for you to get changed at your bathroom when your phone buzzed on top of the bed. Katsuki wasn’t one to pry on your privacy but the constant vibrations annoyed him greatly and prompted him to sit up and grab it, ready to tell whoever was bothering your afternoon together to piss off when he read the ongoing chain of messages coming from someone saved only as Nina.

He could’ve assumed it was one of your girl friends by the way you seemed to know her and that she seemed to be aware of his presence at your house, but the way she referred to you as ‘miss Piggy’ and referred to him as a ‘farmer who took care of a pig and only settled’ for you made him feel sick to his stomach. As he heard you calling out to him from the other side of the bathroom door, asking if everything was okay as he was really quiet, he just said, “It’s all good - hurry up and come back here so I can can cuddle the shit out of you.” Quickly tapping on your phone, he opened the camera and took a selfie with his middle finger up and the most conceited smile he could make, sending it to the girl with the simple caption, ‘This fucking farmer will kick your ass if you don’t stop already.’

Katsuki sent it just as you came back to your bedroom, a horrified expression appearing on your face as you noticed he had your phone on his hands, but he just looked at you with anger. He knew very well that he could be persuasive if he wanted it, and that was one of the times he was decided to get his way. “What are you doing?” you asked slowly, crossing your arms in an attempt to seem intimidating despite the fear on your face, but he wasn’t going to be swayed by it - he never was. “T-that’s mine, Katsuki.”

“And you’re mine and I should know if something’s bothering you, don’t you think? We’re not really playing by the fucking rules here.” While he didn’t want to be overly abrasive with the way he talked to you, he did feel like you needed to understand that he was worried, and that was the only way he could speak his mind properly. “So, are you going to tell me about this Nina thing? Were you ever going to let me know?”

You looked away, clearly embarrassed - his own mind was racing with the different things that could’ve been said to you during the time you were together, or even before because he was sure it wasn’t a new problem you had to deal with. “It’s nothing you could change,” you said with your shoulders down and looking defeated, turning your attention back to him with teary eyes and a sad smile. “It has nothing to do with you, really; it’s just me, and this stupid body of mine. It’s been like that for years, and even if I tried to lose a bit of weight they’d still go on about how… I’m a pig, how no one would love me and if I ever found someone to be with me I’d crush them with my body.”

Walking towards the bed, you sat next to him but refused to meet his gaze; he had to stop himself from pinning you down and showering you with kisses and compliments, understanding you still needed to get things out of your system. “And how do they know about me?” he asked, wondering if he really wanted to know.

“They saw a few pictures when one of them stole my phone for the day,” you explained. “They tried to question me and thought I was lying when I said you attend Yuuei - it was the first time I’ve been pushed so hard against a wall.” His face contorted into an unreadable expression, rage filling his every fiber as he listened to you, but that was the cherry on top of everything else. “It hasn’t happened against since then, but they don’t miss the chance to tell me that I don’t deserve someone as good as you. Maybe they’re right.”

Grabbing your arm he pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around your chubby form with strength enough to make you gasp. He closed his eyes and felt like crying, thinking that he wasn’t doing his job right as you were suffering because of him - he didn’t like feeling powerless when it came to something he wanted, and here these girls were the biggest obstacle between you and your happiness, something he needed to see you experiencing through every moment of your life. “Don’t ever say that again,” Katsuki almost hissed in your ear, and he noticed the hair on your skin standing up. “Don’t you dare speak like that again. I’d give my all for you to understand just how beautiful you are; your curves are part of you and you can bet your ass you look amazing with them. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise let me know and I’ll have… a word with them myself.”

“But don’t you think you could be with someone who looked better with you as well?”

“You look great next to me (y/n),” he retorted as he pulled away, his hands still on your shoulders. His eyes burned straight through you and noticed you were completely serious in your words. “And I’m happy with you. That’s all the reassurement I need to know that I want you in my life - you’re more than I deserve, that’s why I’m so amazed at the fact that you’ve been able to stick with me for so long now. I’m so fucking happy it’s unreal, and it’s all thanks to you. I couldn’t care less about what you look like because to me you’re just the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

You seemed to think for a moment, maybe trying to see if he was lying, but soon you relaxed under his touch and leaned on his arm, a sigh escaping your lips. The both of you stood like that for a moment as silence took the room over and Katsuki felt his expression soften just by having close to him, wanting nothing more than just keep you away from whatever thing or person that could harm you in any way. You were strong and he knew it, but the need to protect you and make you feel cherished was just as big as your heart.

“How do you always manage to say just what I need to hear?” you said quietly.

He knew you all too well, would’ve been the easier answer. He wanted only to see you happy next to him and to kick your insecurities away from your heart, relieving you of all pain. It would’ve been the easiest answer. He just loved you too much as you were, was the hard one he hadn’t had the courage to admit.

“I guess I just want to try and make you feel comfortable with yourself the most I can,” he said instead, “I wouldn’t want my girl to feel down like that, especially when she’s pretty fucking hot already with her chubbiness.” You laughed for the first time in what felt like forever although it had only been half an hour, and he felt his heart jumping in his chest as he looked down at your form before bringing you close to him and lying down, your head hidden on the crook of his neck as he wrapped an arm around your waist - this time, you offered no resistance at all. “Now tell me babe,” he added, a plan starting to form in his mind and a smile on his lips. “This Saturday you have to go to school again, right?”

“Yeah, I have to take the classes until the midterms if I want to pass; why?”

He didn’t reply however, and he closed his eyes before he felt you looking up at him; if you could’ve guessed what he was thinking, he was sure you’d rush to try and stop him from doing anything you could consider reckless. Don’t worry love, he told himself, I’ll make sure no one says a single fucking bad thing about you again - those damn extras will learn not to mess with the one I love.

[kaepop-trash]

Anemoia Ch-5

Anemoia n; Nostalgia for a time you’ve never known.

Pairing: JaehyunxReader

Summary: A chance meeting with unfathomable emotions and a few vivid dreams of an unknown time. All moments leading to one question, “Have we met?”

Mini Masterlist

They sat downstairs, eating waffles and talking about the past few years. They talked about their hobbies and dreams and everything in between.

“How is everyone this fine morning?” Johnny asked as he sat down beside Jaehyun with a plate of sausages and an omelette.

“Are you having a nice weekend?” Taeyong asked and she nodded with a smile as he sat down beside her.

Slowly the large table Jaehyun sat at with her first was filled with his members who spoke to her about innumerous things. Jaehyun sat back and just watched her smile, talk and laugh with his small family. He didn't think it was possible to feel this much affection for a person before this moment. As if by some invisible force, she turned to him and caught his eye. Smiling at him tenderly enough to make his heart burst.

She sat on the edge of her bed as it poured outside her window. Her phone buzzed anxiously a few times but she kept her gaze focused on the rain outside, dulling out all other sounds with the loud beating of the rain. Pain shot up her abdomen making her physically wince for the first time, but in her haze she was already picking up her things and making her way out the door.

Jaehyun stood behind the glass doors, tapping his foot as he stared out at the heavy downpour with his phone against his ear. He rubbed his chest, trying to ease the persistent discomfort present.

“We have to go.” A gentle hand landed on his shoulder and Jaehyun flinched.

“Just a bit more.” He pleaded and Johnny nodded, watching Jaehyun's eyes not shift from the torrential downpour outside the doors.

When their manager asked them to firmly move to the van, Jaehyun took in a shaky breath and nodded. Raising his umbrella, he walked out of the hotel lobby onto the pavement. His steps faltered and he waited for everyone to step into the vehicle first.

“Jaehyun!” He felt his eyes brim at the voice, his chest erupted into rapid beats. He turned and let out a relieved gasp when her figure appeared through the rain. Without thought he embraced her, his umbrella flying away in the wind.

“I thought you wouldn't come.” He really hoped the loud beating of the rain masked his sobs, he was embarrassed of the tears he kept shedding in her presence.

“I left my phone at home. God I thought I missed you.” She sighed as her hands went up to hold him. He kissed her entire face like it was the last time, holding her cheeks in his palm delicately.

“I'm sorry.” She whispered and he smiled against her eyes.

“It doesn't matter, I'm just glad you're here. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't see your face before leaving.” He left a soft kiss on her nose, her back stiffened at the words.

When he finally captured her lips in his he felt so completely relieved that he knew nothing else would ever feel this strongly anymore. When he got into the van after his hasty farewell, his own state of mind scared him. It was genuinely beyond him how he could be so affected by one person, and with a growing distance, reminiscent memories seemed to add to the fright.

“Why are you so sour these days?” Haechan asked Jaehyun with ernest confusion. Jaehyun shot him a look.

“Don’t.” Taeyong warned but Jaehyun had already gotten up and left. He sighed and shook his head, “Leave him alone.” Taeyong warned the younger boy, and everyone in the room effectively before going back to doing what he was doing

.

Jaehyun sat on his bed, scrolling through his messages once again. He read over her last message a thousand times, a simple ‘how are you’ caught in his throat. He threw his phone across the bed and roughly pushed his hand through his hair, huffing loudly when his phone slid far enough to fall on the wooden floor with a loud clatter. He wriggled on the bed and shifted to the edge, picking up his phone. Out of restless curiosity, he clicked on the Instagram logo, scrolling through the different pictures on his feed with annoyed hurry, his fingers coming to a hasty halt when he saw a familiar name. He stared a picture of a set of a photoshoot, the caption a simple ‘work’. The picture didn’t seem to satisfy and he was already on her page.

He smiled at a picture of a cup of coffee, the caption reading ‘It’s too early’. He laughed at a picture of an empty glass, the words ‘so much for saving face’ below it, endearing in it’s reference. He licked his lips when he scrolled by a picture of a cupcake, grinning sheepishly at ‘did I make you hungry?’. His chest fluttered delicately when he saw her smile, her eyes hidden behind her hands and her cheeks dusted pink, ‘This ruins my carefully crafted aesthetic.’, he vehemently disagreed. A picture of rice and some meat beside it made his stomach rumble softly, he gave a quick nod at ‘Would you like some?’

His smile seemed to fade when he looked at a picture of a window, the view outside blurred with rain, ‘보고 싶어’- I miss you, it was almost too personal for him to bare. He huffed loudly and dropped his phone gently on the floor.

He lay in bed with his phone in his palm, typing a few letters, before erasing it again, groaning at his state, the last message was dated a week ago

I can see you typing for 15 minutes now Jaehyun, what is it?

He dropped his phone like it scorched him and hid his face in his hands. After he realised how stupid he looked in the moment, he picked up his phone and typed into it.

How have you been?

His heart seemed to beat too loudly, his fingers tapping the side of his phone anxiously. He groaned when he realised how stupid his message was, kicking his blanket in frustration. When she replied he quickly picked up his phone again.

Good. You seem busy these days though.

Guilt drained the blood from his face. He kept the phone down, leaving her hanging once again and he turned over in bed. He wanted to talk to her, he wanted to hold her if he could. Instead he groaned loudly again.

He stared at his phone screen with an intense vigour one evening, not really looking at anything, occasionally letting a groan slip past his lips. He lay on the couch with his long frame sprawled on it. A few of his members sat at the dining table watching him with concern.

“Can you just talk to her? I don’t even understand why you’re avoiding her if it bothers you so much.” Johnny sighed, facing Jaehyun who still kept his eyes glued on the phone.

“I think she’s mad at me.” Jaehyun mumbled, gasping when an unexpected object was thrown at his face.

“Of course she is, sort it out with her now!” Johnny instructed but he adamantly shook his head.

“No. It’s good that she is. She’ll move on soon.” Johnny furrowed his brows.

“What are you trying to do Jaehyun?” Taeyong asked seriously and Jaehyun sat up, back dropping in sadness.

“I shouldn’t be doing this, to myself or to her. I don’t have the time or luxury to date. What if people find out? What if they don’t approve? What if she leaves me because it’s too hard? She doesn’t like clingy people and I just want to lie in her arms forever. I like coffee and she likes tea, we’re too different. Maybe it won’t work and I’ll have wasted her time. What if she finds out what I’m really like and decides I’m not worth it?” He panted after his rant, the fears he held seemed more real when he verbalised it.

“Wow.” Haechan said softly, earning a warning glance from Taeyong.

“All of those are valid concerns, doesn’t mean you leave the poor girl hanging like that. If it really bothers you then tell her the truth.” Taeyong explained calmly making Jaehyun pout.

“But.” He rubbed his chest slowly trying to say something to avoid the solution.

“But you like her, possibly a lot.” Johnny sighed and Jaehyun nodded lowering his head.

“I don’t know what to do okay? She scares me, I scare myself sometimes. I’ve never felt like this, but I’m also scared about what’s at the end of this.” His voice was a weak mumble, his friends sympathising with him.

“We can’t tell you what to do Jaehyun.” Johnny said sadly and Taeyong could only nod in agreement, both sad at not being able to help.

Jaehyun got out of the van hesitantly, staring at the familiar old house in front of him. He pushed his clammy hands into his pockets and walked forward. The moment he saw his mother open the door he embraced her, wishing he was five year old again when he believed that no one would find him in her embrace, he was safe.

“What’s wrong Jaehyun?” She asked with concern, stroking his head comfortingly.

“Work is too hard right now.” He spoke with a muffled voice, finally pushing away a smile on his face as he came inside the house.

“You look like someone broke your heart.” His mom laughed but he smiled sadly. She sat him down on the couch and went away to get him something hot to drink and warm up. She sat beside him, just silently watching her son as he sipped on the warm beverage gratefully.

“I think I’m in love Mom.” Jaehyun couldn’t help the smile on his face, his mother’s face lighting up with obvious excitement.

“But I’m scared I’ll ruin it. I think I already have.” He combed his fingers through his hair, sighing loudly.

“It’s rare to find something so incredible that it terrifies you. When I found out I was having you, I was scared too. But it was the good kind. Fear is good Jaehyun, it reminds us that nothing lasts so we should enjoy it.” He put a comforting hand on his.

“It’s not even been that long, and I feel like I’m not me without her. What if she leaves?” He winced when his mother slapped his head.

“Then you should focus on making sure she doesn’t. Coming to me crying won’t solve anything.” She scolded and he laughed.

“You don’t even know her.” He chuckled and she hummed.

“Yes, and if she makes you feel the way you say you do, I want you to bring her to me. But for that you should work on it.” She spoke with a lighter tone.

“What if she doesn’t want me anymore mom?” Jaehyun asked, clearly nervous.

“Putting yourself out there for love is an amazing and very brave thing to do, despite the consequences.” She laughed when he kissed her cheek, thanking her profusely.

He sighed with content as he walked into the dorm and went into the kitchen for some water, he looked at the few people around, giving him a strange look.

“Are you okay?” Doyoung asked with a frown and Jaehyun offered him bright smile instead.

“Never been better.” His voice was light as he walked into the kitchen where Haechan eyed him with suspicion and worry.

“Hyung you’re worrying me lately.” He mumbled and Jaehyun laughed, opening the fridge and taking a bottle out.

“You’re worried? How cute, my small friend takes such good care of me.” He went up to him and gave a constricting hug that made Haechan protest loudly.

“Stop bothering him.” Taeyong walked into the kitchen and spoke without giving them a glance. Jaehyun pulled off him with a bashful face.

“Sure!” He nodded as Haechan glared at him dangerously.

“I’m going to go meet her during our break next week.” He sang his words as he exited the kitchen, leaving them behind with enlightened eyes.

She walked up to her door with clammy hands, the doorbell rang the second time and she huffed at his impatience. His bright smile made her melt but she glanced at his figure.

“You look thinner.” She pointed out, he looked confused.

“You haven’t seen me in seven months-” He wanted to explain but she clicked her tongue.

“You look weak, you need to take care of yourself better. I don’t think your fans will appreciate it either” She scolded him and he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, walking forward to embrace her but she swatted his shoulder.

“No, you listen to me Jung Jaehyun. You’ll end up seriously sick.” She spoke and he gave her a wide grin, leaning down and leaving a chaste kiss on her cheek before she could protest.

“I love you too. Can I come in now?” He laughed at her shocked nod. Her hand went up to caress her cheek. Jaehyun dropped his bags on the floor and turned to her with a smile and a long sigh.

“I drool in my sleep sometimes. I can't eat spicy food, I can be a little excessive about gym. I eat the pizza crust after I've finished eating and Doyoung says that's weird.” He scratched his head as she laughed at his words, amused and intrigued.

“I'm fidgety in my sleep so it might be difficult to share a bed with me. I am also not a particularly interesting person.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist, “I can cook only three dishes, but I make them very well. Taeyong says I'm a bit of a slob but my mess has an order okay?” She laughed and the sound of it made his lips turn wider.

“Why are you telling me these things?” She tilted her head to the side and questioned. He laughed bashfully, kissing the tip of her nose.

“Because I think I might love you and I want you to know all the good, bad and the mundane things about me.” He confessed to her lightly as she stared at him with brimming adoration.

“I was so scared but I didn't realise it was because this is so real.” He pulled her closer still, telling himself to believe that she was here with him and that they were together.

“The way my heart erupts into a fight when I'm around you is real.” He bought her hand up to place it on his chest and hearing his erratic heartbeat made hers rise.

“The way my members say I smile when I think about you, talk to you, talk about you. You name it.” She chuckled and he smiled at her endearingly, “That's real.”

“The restlessness and annoyance I feel when I haven't talked to you in more than a few days is also real.” He bought up her fingers to his lips and kissed them individually.

“When I'm with you, I feel comfortable. I feel complete, like I was waiting for something to happen all my life and now it's in front of me.” She smiled wistfully at his words.

“And I know you feel the same. I was doubting it all, but when I see you now I just know. We love each other (Y/N), and I can't get myself to hide that because of what might happen.” He kissed her forehead.

“You’re so cheesy! What did I do to deserve you?” She chuckled again, holding him in an embrace.

“You must have saved a country in your past life.” He cradled her head gently, both of them laughing.

“I'm scared too. I've never needed another person like this. It's like I need you to feel like myself. It's just new, and scary.” She rested her head on his chest, listening to his slowing heartbeat. They sat on the couch, close together. His arms wrapped around her as he held her close to him.

“I've never been in a serious relationship before.” Jaehyun told her, she nodded.

“I never felt ready.” She added and Jaehyun hummed in agreement.

“But you hit me like a truck.” She chuckled at her own words.

“I don't think I ever got back the breath you took away from me the first time we met.” He kissed her head and she wriggled in his hold.

“Are you mocking me? I had just gotten up to go get some coffee. Plus I must have looked like a creep asking for a picture like that?” She shivered, burying her face in embarrassment. Jaehyun laughed and tightened his embrace.

“I'm used to people asking me for pictures (Y/N).” He playfully flicked her forehead. She looked up rubbing her forehead with a pout.

“So I was like any other fan?” She baited him. He turned up his eyes, recalling the old memories.

“At the moment that's what I thought. Actually I didn't really actively think about it till I saw you at that restaurant.” He nodded at his memory, she furrowed her brows at his words.

“Why?” She asked curiously, Jaehyun blushed deep making her eyes gloss over with curiosity.

“I don't know, I just kept feeling this annoying itch. Like when you've left your house and you keep thinking you forgot something. But then when I spotted you it's like the breath I was holding the entire time just made sense. I was so relieved and happy to see you again. It was confusing at first, but I won't dissect every good thing till it's a cause and effect.” He smiled with surety.

“What is that even supposed to mean?” She hid her face in his chest and he embraced her.

“It means, I knew then that I'd be crazy about you. So I won't fight it.” He shrugged unaware of how his words made her heart lunge in her throat and beat erratically. She lifted her head to meet his eyes and pecked his lips gently, heart still fluttering at the action.

“I love you.” He bumped their noses together, scrunching his own shyly.

“Will you wait for me to say it when I mean it?” She looked away nervously. He smiled, following her face to make her look at him.

“I'd wait lifetimes for you.” He said it with simple confidence, in a way that makes it truly worth believing. He pecked her nose again making her smile as he kissed her lips more attentively this time, hands moving to hold her waist.

[onestowatch]

Versatile Songwriter Mark Diamond Elucidates the Unspoken Magic of the “Hummingbird” [Q&A]

Photo: Aleigh Michelle

Seattle-native Mark Diamond is fascinated with hummingbirds. After his project Hummingbird One was released earlier this year, he dropped a bright track a few months later named after the majestic fluttery bird. Now, he has a music video that reflects the glittering haze of the winged beauty.

“Hummingbird” is a new mood for the singer, who finds himself typically falling under more somber, acoustic sounds. The track is filled with falsetto, upbeat percussion, and funky electronics. The video for the track is submerged in pastel colors, with dancers clad in luminescent outfits and Diamond in a Pharrell-esque hat. His nonchalant expressions adds an extra wave of playfulness to the upbeat track -- a serious attitude contrasting with the light-hearted tune, showcasing the artist’s more comical side.

"Hummingbird” is hard not to love and the video makes the track that much better. 

We had a chance to talk with Diamond about moving to LA from Seattle, the meaning behind his newest song, and more. 

OTW: So you’ve been making music for a long time, with songs on Spotify dating back to 2013 and 2014. Could you describe your journey moving from then to the release of your recent EP Hummingbird One and now your track “Hummingbird”?

Mark Diamond: Yeah, I know it's crazy to think that I was kind of putting stuff out in 2013 that was kind of at that point where I was like, “Okay, I'm going to give this every possible thing I have.” I had always loved music my whole life, but it's kind of a realization that I had like, even a week ago, I was with a friend of mine and it kinda dawned on me that pretty much nothing in my life on a musical standpoint has gone as I planned it or as I thought it was going to. But yet here I am, and I'm making music, and I'm absolutely loving the journey and having the best time. So that's like, I feel like the best way to sum up my life as an artist, as a songwriter, and as a singer. I feel like I've been very lucky.

I've definitely put in loads and loads of time, like everyone does who starts to get a bit of success from it. I continue forward with this, and need to expect the unexpected sort of thing and go into it with my eyes open. It's funny, it's just the way it all comes together and in hindsight, I've kind of been a bit more reflective. I feel like the past couple weeks actually I’ve been thinking about it all ,and I'm very excited for what's to come.

OTW: How did moving to LA from Seattle impact the way you tackled your music creating process?

Mark Diamond: It has on a major level. I feel like I'm always going to be a bit more of an emotional Seattle songwriter. I think that's always going to be home base for me. Not necessarily Seattle specifically, but that sort of mentality when it comes to writing songs. I think I tend to dig deeper into the emotional side. I think moving to California has taught me that it's important as a writer and a creative person to not have a routine. It's important to kind of write when you're inspired. For me personally, I don't write when it's forced and I've definitely been inspired here in a lot of different ways at both good and bad at times. I am inspired here because it's a beautiful place to be, in Los Angeles. For the first time in my life I kind of have a community of people around me, and I feel like things have been kicking off.

At the same time, being away from Seattle, I have this feeling, there's like a sense of emptiness a little bit being away from Seattle and all of that. It’s definitely influencing and encouraging me to write some special songs right now. I mean location in general, whether it be a move from Seattle to LA or Seattle to Cincinnati. It's like you're going to feel new things, and in turn, as a writer, and as a songwriter specifically, you're gonna want to get that out because otherwise it's just going to kind of build up.

OTW: I saw you tweeted a picture of one of the dancers from the “Hummingbird” video with the caption, “Hummingbirds are referred to as glittering fragments of the rainbow.” Do hummingbirds hold any symbolism or deeper meaning to you?

Mark Diamond: Yeah, it's a lot deeper than that. I think it all started with this idea, maybe more and more of a question really that I started asking, because I've always loved hummingbirds, but I kind of was looking at a hummingbird and had this ridiculous idea like – “Oh, I wonder if the flower gets sad when the hummingbird leaves.” And it's kinda like, “Ph, that's a stupid thought,” and then you just stop thinking that for a second. And I was like, well, wait a minute, you know, how did I feel in my life when I felt stuck and, someone came into my life, and kind of took what they needed and then left. They kind of flew away on a literal standpoint. They got on a plane and left, and it didn't feel too good.

So how does that flower feel? Here's this flower that has potential and so much to offer the world, but yet it's stuck and, well, does the flower actually feel stuck? Does the flower feel content with where it's at? ... I'm kind of relating myself to the flower and relating hummingbird to the previous relationship I was in with this girl, and then kind of trying to just work through these things. It was a way for me to tell a story without it saying, “Hey, look, this is me.” It's still my story, but I'm telling it through the lens of something else, which makes it easier to tell my story.

I’m more willing to be honest about the story because at times I can be this honest because I'm playing this character. It's a little bit roundabout, and it’s still me being a hundred percent honest, but it's just a way in my head to make it feel a bit more freeing to tell a story through a different light. I love hummingbirds. I feel like there's this unspoken magic about hummingbirds. They're quite mysterious. They're special, and they kind of follow me around everywhere, but it's sort of one of those things, it's like once you think about them all the time, you start noticing them places. They're very special creatures.

OTW: What does that track “Hummingbird” mean to you?

Mark Diamond: It’s freedom to me. As a writer, I think I blocked myself into a kind of sadder acoustic sound. And I love that, that's who I am. And this track is just a different side of me. It's not necessarily a different side of who I want to be, it's literally a side of who I currently am. We made the song in London and when we started playing the chords, I just started laughing. Myself and the producer just started laughing because we were like, “What is this?” We had been working on all these other songs that were around this idea of hummingbird, and I just started singing, it was like, this is so funny that it just came together. We were in London wrapping up some songs, and this song just kind of appeared. We weren't necessarily looking for it, and when we first started I was like, “I'm not going to show anybody at the label this because it's like a joke, like singing in falsetto the whole song pretty much.” I think that's why I also fell in love with it cause it was like this self-expression right now. This is how I feel. It's a story of heartbreak, confusion, and frustration, but at the end of the day it has to be okay. It's not anything to be sad about, it's something to maybe celebrate and say, “Look, yeah, things didn't work out.” It was just a moment. But that moment was all we needed.

OTW: What was going on in your head when making the video for the track, and did you have a big picture vision that you wanted to portray to further its meaning?

Mark Diamond: Yeah, I was lucky enough to have some really awesome dancers who kind of represented hummingbird in that way, with what they're wearing; it was that glittery sort of vibe. When you see a hummingbird, and you see a picture of a hummingbird up close, they do have this glittering effect to them. As far as the idea and the concept of the video that was all put together by myself, and the director, we kind of put this together with loads of other people, like the amazing set designer, the whole team, who were absolutely killer.

The idea for me was more like, I want to show you that I'll be the first person to make fun of myself. I'll be the first person to not take myself too seriously. At times I have taken my career so seriously to the point that it has lost a bit of its fun. I think the most important thing is the balance of it. I wrote a song like two weeks ago that is probably one of the most emotional songs I've ever written, and I just played it the other nigh at my first headlining show at Hotel Cafe, and I craved the difference, that contrast, between a song like hummingbird and then an acoustic song. I think both are needed.

And the wardrobe for this music video, was put by myself, which was a fun thing. It was a bit nerve wracking. I realized that it was a bit harder to do, and I understand why you pay other people to do things like that, but I gave it a shot and it worked out really well. I lucked out on cool pieces.

OTW: Did you have any particular impact in mind for listeners to pick up?

Mark Diamond: Yeah, I think I wanted people to just kind of see who I am. That's separate just from the song, it's like as a whole, I kind of want them to see my personality, and this video feels like it shows my personality. I like having a good laugh. I like having a good time, but at the end of the day, the song is still very meaningful. If you listen to the lyrics, it is an emotional song. It is about heartbreak, it is that whole story. It was wrapped up in a way where it's like all of this is true, but yet it has to be okay, and that's kind of just a personality. That's who I am. And overall impact, I would say is, I think this video is really balancing on this line between people won't know if I'm being serious or not at certain points, and that's what I love. I kind of love playing with people's emotions a bit, where they're like, “Wait a minute, is he being serious or is he just being funny?”

OTW: Tell us a little bit about what you’re working on right now.

Mark Diamond: We have loads of songs right now that are ready to go. I'm just making sure that we surround it with all the fuel that it needs and proper content for me to tell the story to the best of my ability, and then beyond that. To be completely honest, I'm already writing for what comes after this. We have an album's worth of material done and there's lots ahead.

I've just been writing the last couple of weeks and kind of made the decision that every night on tour I'm going to be playing these songs. I think when I did that at the Hotel Cafe, a lot of people connected with one song in particular. I kind of like the thing where it's like, if you want to hear it, you gotta be there for it because it's kind of special. I’ll just hopefully hit the road here soon and just start playing these songs and then unreleased songs and see how people feel and what they connect with.

OTW: Would you mind sharing one thing that fans might not know about you?

Mark Diamond: That's a tricky one, especially in today's current climate of social media and everybody knowing everything. I would say my like go to and would be that I would say, is I absolutely love playing golf, but I'm pretty sure at this point everybody knows that because I talk about that all the time.  I don't know how to swim, maybe that's a good fun fact. I'm a horrible swimmer. I hope people still listen to my music knowing that. If I'm in a pool like, okay, cool, that's alright, I'll be okay, no big deal. But if you were to drop me in a lake, I probably wouldn't make it out.

OTW: Who are your Ones to Watch?

Mark Diamond: Who I've been listening to a ton actually, I've been listening to Matt Corby a lot. I’m a big fan of Matt Corby and also Shawn Mendes, I love him, I really do.

Stay tuned for new releases from the growing singer/songwriter, and jam to other releases from Diamond while you wait.