#i keep all the music binders and i was having trouble getting everything together

[halfdeadwallfly]

[kraiyan]

i made my own little headcannons to fit in if michael and jeremy were dating and a bunch of other stuff that i don’t want to spoil so take my headcannons and please don’t pay attention to my overuse of the words ‘so’ and ‘like’

i wrote this headcannons for me in my notes so there are mentions of panic/anxiety attacks, light mentions of an eating disorder, nightmares, and self harm but i’ll just put a trigger warning for when those parts show up and if i missed anything that is triggering please let me know

- michael is trans and gay and jeremy is bisexual

- i think they would’ve been friends since kindergarten so they grew up telling each other EVERYTHING

- i feel like michael was really girly as a kid but in like 6th grade he just completely switched to like tomboy but he didn’t do on purpose it just happened

- then in seventh grade michael told jeremy he wanted to be a boy then after that with help from jeremy he came out to his moms

- michael had a crush in jeremy since 7th grade but i don’t think jeremy was his first crush

- i think since michael was straight when he was a girl he just assumed he was straight as a boy and his sexual awakening was captain sparklez

- michael has two moms and jeremys mom would’ve died in a car accident so it’s just him and his dad

- i imagine they confessed to each other in their second year of high school

- (TW: mentions of abuse) jeremy realized he liked michael in freshman year and it was really bad he could not stop thinking about him so when he got squip squip l would not stop punishing him for it

- so jeremy definitely has some problems with his bisexuality

- after years of pining for each other when they finally kissed jeremy could not stop panicking about it

- like they went to sleep fine but he was internally panicking and he tried to keep it together but the next day he absolutely broke just started sobbing saying over and over again “is this okay, are we okay”

- michael is the type to listen to a vulgar music to help his dysphoria

- so him and jeremy are in his car michael plugs in his phone and just starts singings “hoes want to be seen with me and i like their big thick titties”

- and jeremy can do nothing else but be like michael what the fuck

- they decided to keep their relationship a secret and not tell anyone bc of jeremy still coming to terms with himself and he didn’t think his dad would understand

- but i feel like michael moms had already pieced together that they were dating and jeremy didn’t mind that they knew bc they’re literally lesbians but every time jeremy came over from that point forward they had to keep their door open

-(TW: mention of an eating disorder) in a different angstier au jeremy would struggle with eating as a control thing after squip

- (TW: mention of an eating disorder) in an angstier au michael would have an eating disorder cause dysphoria

- i feel like once he realized he was trans he had really bad dysphoria but like with therapy and stuff he got over it

- so i think michael really liked afycso and had it on a vinyl and now jeremy knows all the words

- they don’t do anything at school because jeremy is still uncomfortable so they just pursuit their relationship between closed doors and michaels car in an empty parking lot

- i feel like they both got really excited when michael got referred to as sir for the first time

- jeremy and michael grew up together but ironically when puberty hit michael started to wear baggy clothes than he wore a binder than he wore super baggy clothes to hide his tits after coming out but during squip he had time to self reflect and work on his dysphoria so when jeremy saw michael outside of school he kinda said TITS and was so caught off guard by them

-(TW: mentions of self harm scars) i think michael has sh scars due to losing his childhood best friend and the whole panic attack in the bathroom thing and jeremys seen them but didn’t bring it up to michael because they’re fading so he obviously doesn’t do it anymore but it was a huge shock for jeremy to find out

- they never brought it up tho and it was never discussed bc who cares it was in the past

- michael pants his nails black and i think on some very rare occasion jeremy would paint his nails too (like the way karl paint his) and michael has lots of nail polish cuz on the rare occasion he paints his nails different colors and he repainted his nails every two weeks

- no matter how many times michael has changed in the same room as jeremy even let jeremy help take off his binder jeremy will never not get shy when he changes and will always ask to go into another room

- jeremy is a coffee person but not hot coffe because he always drinks it too early and burns his tongue

- he originally bought his hoodie™️ in really huge size to battle dysphoria but that just made the hoodie last for years

- jeremys name in michaels phone is something very gay and lovey and shit and michaels name on jeremys phone is just michael :)

- jeremy would come home all suspicious and and red faced after him and michael came from an empty parking lot that his dad would not stop begging him to meet this girlfriend of his

- i don’t think jeremy told his dad him and michael were playing a game or something and they kiss jeremys dad comes in and is like what 😦

-and his dad is shocked that he has been pushing girlfriend but he has a boyfriend and is just soooooo awkward about it and never sees michael the same but never makes any rules about them bc he doesn’t want to be homophobic 😭

- i don’t think he was really not supportive but it took him a bit to get used to it but it was so new to him and he was just so phased he just kinda talked to jeremy about his sexuality then left it at that

- they are like gendebend bubbline (marshal lee and the other one yk)

- michael has a queen vinyl the listen to a lot

- so i think michael would still smoke a bit and one time he convinced jeremy to do it with him and jeremy mainly coughed a lot then they just made out the rest of the time but they didn’t tell their parents they would be staying out after school and they both got in trouble

- michael gets blue raspberry and jeremy gets cherry but he also gets coke sometimes too (slushy flavors)

- at the beginning of their relationship they had to take it really slow so that jeremy would feel coqmfortable

- (TW: mentions of panic attacks) so jeremy has nightmares of squip and he wakes up having panic attacks and it’s really tiring bc he only gets 2 hours of sleep if he has these nightmares

- (TW: mentions of panic attacks) i feel like along with his nightmares he also had panic attacks that squip would punish him for pursuing a relationship with a guy let alone michael

- so after he got over his nightmares he just struggled with sleeping and nighttime in general like just fear around going to sleep

- so he often stayed up alll night to avoid sleeping and would like go to bed at 6 or on a good day 4 or 5

- so i think to get over his fear he had to make a routine first he would make some sort of hot drink or just water (mostly sleepy time tea) then he would text michael that he was going to sleep he also wears the same pajamas every time he goes to sleep just to make sure the routine really works then lastly he reads a comic book then he goes to bed

- i think the reason jeremy couldn’t sleep well after getting over the nightmares is because even if squip doesn’t haunt him enough to show up in his dreams anymore it still haunts him enough to stress him out constantly so he doesn’t sleep well

- to conclude the nightmare and sleeping saga jeremy basically has a night routine and sleeps with a night light

- i feel like they both go to therapy but we’re to scared to tell each other (and they both started going to therapy before they started dating)

- so fast forward they’re dating and are trying to plan a date and jeremys like i’m busy on monday at 1 and my dad needs me to help him with something on tuesday so how about wednesday at 3 and michaels like i have somewhere to be like at 3:30 and jeremys like where do you have to be and michaels like where do YOU have to be and so they count to three and say where they’re going to be and they both say therapy and then they’re like you go to therapy i think that would be so cute

- so michael has really thick glasses like his vision is awful so if jeremy is mad at michael he would wake up early and move his glasses over so michael would have to struggle to get out of bed and look for them with his poor ass vision

- he can see things right in front of his face but as soon as it moves a bit too far it’s blurry

- and speaking of his galsses if they’re really kissing along the way jeremy would take of his glasses so they could get closer to each other’s faces (like how elle and tao do in heartstopper )

- michael and jeremy have been friends way too long to not have practiced kissing with each other

- i think christine was a long time crush for jeremy so he definitely practiced kissing michael a lot since they were in 6th grade and michael was just soaking that shit up

- he’d be like what if she wants to make out we should practice that and jeremys like oh yeah you’re right and michael would be so freaking happy

- but they definitely got caught by jeremys dad and he laughed it off cause what else are you meant to when your 11 year old son and his 12 year old best friend are kissing each other

- they didn’t do it anymore after that cause they were soooooooooo embarrassed

- so i don’t talk about the rest of the characters but i’m about to make a headcannon including them so i’m gonna say my headcannons

- so chole is demisexual and panromantic

- brooke is a lesbian

- rich is bisexual and trans

- jake is pan

- jenna is questioning or straight

- and christine is aro/ace

- so i think jeremy and christine dated for a bit then christine broke up with him cause she was all like i can see the way you look at michael and also because she realized she was feeling intense platonic attraction not romantic

- and also i think they’re all friends so they have a group chat where they send homework answers and stuff

- so i think one time jeremy is doing his nighttime routine but this particular night he’s really tired so he texts michael goodnight bby <3 love u then skips the comic book reading and goes to bed but he sent it to their group chat so as soon as he got situated into bed all he hears is his phone going off so he has to check and it’s just everyone freaking out

- so he like fully sits up is looking at his phone in complete shock then realizes he never said a name so they are like who’s this mystery girl

- so he calls michael tells him about the situation then decides he’s ready to come out

- so the next day they’re more handsy then usual like jeremy wiped something off his face michael saw that he was cold and pulled him real close and their friends are like okayyyyy

- but mind you christine knew that jeremy liked michael so she knew exactly what was happening

- so at the end of the day their friend group is making plans to hang out but everyone was busy so jeremy goes well i’ll see you guys tomorrow waves at everyone kisses michael then starts walking to his house then michaels like yea i’m gonna head home to and like drives away and from that day forward their friends would not stop teasing them and were impressed they could keep there secret for so long

- so i feel like michaels moms both have jobs that run late so mom #1 is an er nurse and mom #2 is an account so this leaves michael a lot of time of being alone in his house so naturally you need to take advantage

- so one time mom #2 gets home and walks in just to see jeremy fully on the counter making out with her son

- i don’t think they got in trouble but his mom was like please not on the counter

- and then there was another time where mom #1 came home on her break cause she doesn’t live far from the er so she like yells to michael that she’s home

- and so naturally you come down to hug your mom so he comes down to greet his mom with a red faced jeremy behind him and his mom thought this was so fucking funny but as soon as she’s done laughing she immediately goes anytime jeremys over the doors open and that was the end of it

- everyone has this one thing that someone does that make them all blushy and stuff

- for jeremy it’s when michael wears fitting clothes cause michael is known to wear hoodies or just baggy clothes in general so when michael does get hot and needs to like put something on he puts on one of those body fitting v necks and jeremy losses his shit like he’s fully blushing and avoiding eye contact and since michael changed cause he was hot he’s sure that jeremy is so hot that his face is turning red and he’s embarrassed to say to take off his cardigan so the entire time jeremy is being full homo for his boyfriend michael is thinking he’s about to pass out from a heat stroke

- so i think jeremy enjoys this so much that for the first week of spring michael will only wear fitted clothes because jeremy loves it

- for michael it’s when he’s kissing jeremys neck and jeremy runs his hand thru his hair and pulls it a little when this happens michael loses all common sense one because jeremys enjoying himself so much that he has to kinda tug on michaels hair and two he’s enjoying it so much he doesn’t have time to think that squip is going to punish him and that makes michael just lose his mind so by the time they’ve pulled apart jeremy as sooooo many hickies and they both look at each other like what the fuck did we just do

- moving right along i feel like when jeremy wakes up at night and is terrified to go back to sleep if him and michael are sleeping together he will like hug him until he gets back to sleep and it works every time

- when they were like 7 jeremy got really sick with the flu and michael was so scared that he was going to die so he kissed him while he was sleeping because if his best friend was gonna die so was he and the next day he got really sick with the flu and jeremy would not stop crying because he thought that since michael refused to leave his side he got him sick…they’re idiots

- jeremy is the type to go to school with the worst fever ever he could throw up in the middle of the school day and still not go to the nurse and if he got sick during junior year forget it you had to strap him down to his bed if you wanted him to take a day off like michael had to sedecue him into staying in bed and taking medication so that he could feel better

[wulfies-kpop-fanfics]

One Photo → Mark Lee [8]

↳  Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳  AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳  Warning: angst if you squint, I guess

↳  Word count: 2,294

↳  Chapters: Prelude | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | You Are Here! | 9

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

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

WEDNESDAY - 8 TWO YEARS LATER

The heart of Toronto would never compare to the magnificence of Times Square in New York, but the mass amount of billboards by the Eaton Center always managed to send you into awe during your nightly trek home from work. 

You looked up toward the billboards with a sigh as you waited for your streetcar, barely managing to squeeze out a smile as you saw Mark’s visage splayed along one of the electronic spaces. The night sky was too polluted with the city’s light to display any real stars, but Mark’s face was more than enough for you. For the past week, you had seen NCT127’s faces sprawled across that billboard, part of promotions for their latest global comeback. It was a brief respite as you waited for your streetcar home every night, to finally know that the day was over and that you could relax.

It had been such a long time since you’ve seen Mark in person. Even though you texted him every day when the two of you were awake at the same time and video chatted whenever he had five minutes to himself, it always felt depressing to be without him. To not kiss or touch or hug at all was torture.

Everyone knew that it was deadly for soulmates to be apart for so long, that depression would set in and even worse physical illnesses were a real risk. It was hard to be so far away and over the past year you had been let go from multiple jobs because you were constantly sick, and therein lies the problem. You simply couldn’t afford the solution to your problem. So, depression and illness it was. It took everything you had to keep your head above water, to keep your dream alive and know that one day your heart wouldn’t ache as much as it does at the present moment.

After a 20 minute ride on the streetcar, you entered your building and took the stairs up to your little hole-in-the-wall apartment, the bare minimum that you could afford after Rhiannon paid her last half of the old place’s rent. A single bed, bath and a tiny kitchen that housed a little chair and round table. Thankfully, there was enough counter space that you could place a tiny TV to watch Netflix on while you ate. You were lucky that the house had a large living room, which doubled as your studio.

The coffee table was one of the only things left from your old apartment, along with the tote of Marvel films you kept hidden below it. Atop the table now rested all of your cameras, a drawing tablet and cards that you got in the mail from Mark from time-to-time, instead of notes, binders and textbooks. Sitting against the wall across from the table was a small bookshelf and an easel with a large frame sitting on it, housing the last portrait you finished the night before, ready to be shipped to the buyer.

After… somewhat enjoying a quick pot of white cheddar mac & cheese and watching a rerun of Supernatural on your little TV, you head into your room and sit at the desk next to your bed. After starting your computer, you opened up discord and sat back in your wheely chair, waiting for Rhiannon’s status to change to green. Wednesday was the day that she had to be up early for her job, so that meant time for a 10-minute call before you went to bed and she went to work. 

Next to your computer was a copy of the photo you took two years ago, of your soulmate and all his friends beneath the shedding cherry trees in High Park. You smiled at it, the memory was fond but now faint in your mind. You reached forward to pick it up, but you stopped yourself. You knew that if you inspected the photo more, you’d only miss Mark and all your friends more. 

There were times where your apartment became so quiet that it reminded you how alone you really were. You had lived with Rhiannon most of your life, and that meant there was at least some noise going on at all times. Whether she had her headset unplugged when she was listening to music or watching youtube videos, she was clattering about when helping you wash and dry the dishes, or if she was walking around and tripped on nothing. She was always talking, laughing, or doing something that always let you know that she was there. Now, you had nothing.  

The silence is broken and you’re startled by the calling sound from discord, Rhiannon’s icon popping up on the top of your screen. You place your hand on your mouse and click the join call button, adjusting the webcam perched on the top of your desktop monitor. 

"Hey," Rhiannon was the first to speak, yawning and reaching back to pull her hair into a perfect, tight ponytail. 

"Hey," you respond, watching her closely and leaning your chin on your right palm. "How are you holding up?"

"I should be asking you that, Jesus, you look like the Hulk if he got the swine flu," she retorts, and even through the grainy quality you can tell she has sympathy written all over her face. "I'm doing great, we've got two cleanings today and a wisdom teeth removal, so that'll be fun." 

You scoff and attempt to smile, "I'm fiiiiine, other than the fact that I'm here and you're there, 13 hours in the future and at least one ocean in between us and an entire continent and a half. I'd say that constitutes abandonment."

"I got the getting while it was good and you know that," she stuck her tongue out at you. "You need to keep saving so that you can fly your ass out here." She squinted at the screen. "You really need to drink like… an entire bottle of nyquil, dude."

"If only it were that easy," you groan. "I don't even have a photographer's position yet. All I get is sitting at a desk and responding to emails… even with my head start, I can't find a good job and I barely make enough to keep living in Toronto." You stick out your tongue back at her for the nyquil comment. "As if I haven't been hiding a bottle of dayquil in my desk for the past week."

Rhiannon stopped what she was doing and leaned toward her camera. "You know why you can't get the jobs you want," her voice is soft, empathetic. "Mark is having trouble, too. He's been doing a lot of half days, so I don't know how they plan to do their tour with him being constantly sick." 

You looked away. "I can't afford to take any more time off… I don't want to lose this job. If I do, I'm not sure that I'll be able to make my rent."

"You're going to need to take time eventually,” Rhiannon stated firmly. "If you don't get at least some of your strength back you're going to end up in the hospital like I did. Remember?" 

You glanced back at your screen, watching Donghyuck wander around in the backdrop. You were beyond jealous that they got to live together. 

"Maybe. I just miss you. More than I miss having a clear passageway in my nose." 

Rhiannon smiled sadly at you. "I miss you too, everyone does. You'll be here soon, I promise. I gotta go, sleep well and drink plenty of water, okay?"

"Okay." 

Rhiannon waved at you before her screen went dark, ending the call. The call was shorter than usual, so you presumed that she had woken up late. You zoned out a little, acutely aware that the apartment had gone silent again. You didn't want to cry, to give up after surviving for so long. You had made it this far without letting everything get to you.

You knew that your deteriorating health was because of your separation from Mark and companies saw that as a liability, even though laws had come into place last year to protect separated soulmates from workplace discrimination. You felt a tiny ping of hope when Rhiannon said you would be able to move soon, but you knew she was lying to make you feel better. 

Feeling lethargic, you stand and make your way to the dresser in the corner of your room, stripping and throwing your clothes about the room. You open up a drawer and pull out a pair of sweatpants and the softest t-shirt you could find and slipped them on, wandering to your bed and slowly climbing in. You slipped off your glasses, placing them on your desk and reached forward to turn off your lamp.

You hugged your polar bear and tried to get comfortable, hoping to fall asleep quickly. You supposed you could call into work when you woke up; at least your manager was nice enough to understand when you needed a day off. You rolled over, tossed and turned, but sleep wouldn't come. Not while your phone was constantly buzzing. 

"What the hell," you mumble to yourself, untangling yourself from the knot of blankets you had tied yourself in to reach for your phone. Your lock screen lit up with a photo of Mark, one you had taken two years ago of him standing in Union Station. 

[Rhiannon (5)] 

She sure knew how to type quickly. 

Rhiannon: I'm on my way to work, I'll let you know when I'm there

Rhiannon: sorry our call was so short, I was running a little late

Rhiannon: I talked to Mark last night, did he say anything? 

Rhiannon: are you asleep already? It's been like 5 minutes 

Rhiannon: ok you're basically just ignoring me at this point

You: calm down bro I was getting in my pyjamas 

Rhiannon: I forgot how slow you get when you're sick, I could die of boredom waiting for you to respond 

You: hardy har 

Rhiannon: so have you talked to mark today? 

You: around lunchtime he woke up from a nightmare but I assume hes busy right now 

Rhiannon: Things have been pretty bad around now, I think you might have guessed that

You: Yeah, things aren’t really that great here either, but I’m more worried about Mark… have they given him time off? 

Rhiannon: Not much besides half days. He’s really been missing you. Maybe you should message him and see if he’s not busy

You: Yeah, maybe. I feel really guilty

Rhiannon: I know. I still could help you buy your plane ticket, you know. You: You know I can’t do that, I can’t take more from you than I have already. I owe you too much.

No response. 

You: Rhiannon I’m sorry 

You: Come on, you can’t have scrubbed in that fast!

You sighed, staring at your screen and still seeing no response from your best friend. You took a deep breath in and immediately regretted it when you began coughing up a lung, but at least you weren't upchucking your dinner. Instead, you decided to send a text to Mark.

You: mark, you there? 

You close your mind for a moment, thinking that maybe going to bed even later than usual would just make you more sick in the end, but you really needed to know what was going on. 

Mark: yeah I'm here babe, what's wrong, can't sleep? 

You: no not really… do you have time to talk for a bit? 

Mark: yeah, my legs gave out during our first practice so I'm taking a break

You: I'm sorry

Mark: it's not your fault (Y/N) 

You: it kind of is, we're both dying because I can't afford to move 

Mark: (Y/N), we're not dying, and it's okay, you'll be able to move soon

You: face it you know that we are… I haven't felt this horrible in a long time and I've thrown up three times today 

Mark didn't respond right away. 

Mark: why are you putting yourself down so much 

You: I just… have a lot of regrets right now 

Mark: what do you mean

You licked your lips and rolled over in bed, wondering if you should tell him.

Mark: are you okay? 

You: no, I feel like this would make you hate me 

Mark: I could never hate you and you know that. Tell me what's been bothering you.

You: For the past while… Rhiannon’s been offering me money. It’s honestly not much because everyone’s struggling nowadays, but it would be enough for me to fly to Korea, and I’ve felt so guilty about it that I kept saying no and she stopped offering

Mark: You mean that you could have been here faster? You: and now I feel that saying no was a really bad idea… and I.. I can’t afford anything, barely even food and now I hear that you’re even more sick than I am and I feel terrible

You: I don’t know what to do

Mark: It’s okay, (Y/N), really. I know how hard it is to take money from someone else, I’m not mad at you

You: Really?

Mark: I’m just disappointed that I have to keep waiting. You’ll be able to move soon, I promise, I promise, I promise

You: Are you going to be okay

Mark: As long as you are. Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll be there for you the second you land. Okay?

You: Okay. I… I should probably get some sleep now. Mark: Rest well, I love you

You: I love you too 

You sighed, placing your phone on your desk and turning over in your bed. It was time.

[kuratoki]

Distance 01

It’s finally here! I hope you guys enjoyed Changes but I hope you enjoy the sequel even more~ My ask box is open for Charas and personal (and I would low key love some anons uwu) Enjoy!! 

If you haven’t checked out changes yet, you can find it here.

There wasn’t a day Jeno didn’t regret not making things official with you sooner. What he also didn’t expect was his soon to be ex best friend to act on his feelings towards you either. Now a whole continent away with a ten hour time difference, will the two of you survive the distance and all the obstacles that come with?

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Ballerina OC x Dancer Jeno

Words: 3488

Warnings: Swearing

~Updates Ever/other day at 8AM PST~

“Happy New year everyone!” Hana said brightly, waving at Yeeun and Yukhei who were sitting in the lunchroom before class started.

Seeing her new good friend, Yeeun squealed, engulfing Hana into a hug and the two girls started jumping around as if they hadn’t seen each other in years.

“Didn’t you guys just see each other for a girls day two days ago?” Jaemin asked walking up behind Hana and giving Yukhei a bro hug before giving Yeeun a small hug.

Ever since you and Renjun departed, things had gotten progressively better between the two couples. Despite the rough past, Yukhei and Yeeun were the addition the group needed. Yeeun was actually really fun to be around and you got to bond with her a bit at the Selects Christmas party before you left. You also encouraged Hana to talk to her more which resulted in the friendship they had now. 

“Can you like not?” Hana asked looking at her boyfriend with a playful glare, “We’re the only girls now because Y/N and Mia are gone.” 

“Yea and with all the trouble you guys get into without us, we kind of have to stick together.” Yeeun said, taking Hana’s side, “Anyways, did you guys have a good holiday?”

“We spent it with Jaemin’s parents.” Hana said, smiling bashfully, “They invited us to this….” 

As Hana recounted her winter break to Yeeun, Jaemin looked at Yukhei and playfully rolled his eyes.

“Who would have thought.” he said as Yukhei nodded.

“Who would have thought.” he agreed and looked around, “Any idea where Chenle is?” It wasn’t like him to be at school so late in the morning but then again, it was the first day back so classes started a bit later.

“He mentioned something over winter break about taking care of three transfer students from China.” Jaemin said and raised his eyebrows as he saw said boy walk into the room with a girl and two boys trailing behind him, “Speak of the devil.”

“You guys really shouldn’t talk about Jisung while he isn’t here you know.” Chenle commented as he approached the group, making Hana and Yeeun break from their conversation, “How was everyone's vacations?” 

Once everyone responded, Chenle motioned to the three behind him, “I’d like to introduce you guys to Xiao Dejun, Liu YangYang and Chou Tzuyu. They’re from the transfer program and the schools asked me to act as their guide.” he then motioned to the two couples in front of him and tried to hold back his sigh, silently wishing he wasn’t the fifth wheel in this case, “Everyone, this is Wong Yukhei, Jang Yeeun, Kim Hana and Na Jaemin….” he paused for a second and looked around the room, “Where’s Jeno?” 

“He told me that he was taking a later flight so he might be in later today or for sure tomorrow.” Jaemin answered and looked at the other three, “It’s nice to meet you guys. If you need any help at all, don’t hesitate to ask. I was a guide myself this past year.” 

“Yea for what? Two weeks?” Hana snorted, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes, “Then Jeno and Jisung kind of took over no? You were probably a shitty guide since she doesn’t attend the school anymore.” 

“You have spent way too much time talking to Mia over the phone. Now I know how Renjun feels.” Jaemin commented with a pout, “And that’s not true. Timing just sucks.” 

“Are you guys all couples?” YangYang asked curiously and Yukhei shared a look with Jaemin.

“Kind of.” they both said, thinking about the situation between you and Jeno.

As the guys got to know YangYang and Dejun, who said to call him Xiaojun, Hana and Yeeun went to get to know Tzuyu who seemed a bit more reserved.

“So what department are you entering?” Yeeun asked curiously.

“Dance.” Tzuyu responded and the two other girls looked at each other.

“That’s cool, that’s….pretty much everyone here.” Hana said with a bright smile, “Except Chenle. So we’ll be able to help you if you need it.” 

“I don’t think I will but thanks.” Tzuyu said flipping her hair, making Yeeun inwardly grimace while Hana tried to maintain her bright smile. This was going to be interesting since it seemed like the guys were getting along with Xiaojun and YangYang just fine.

While the girls continued to converse with Tzuyu with mostly her giving one word answers, they were about to give up before the doors to the cafeteria opened and her attention was pulled to the person that walked in, approaching the group of boys next to her.

“Who is that?” Tzuyu asked, putting on a flirtatious smile and tried not to let it falter when he walked right by her.

Hana and Yeeun turned around to see who she was talking about and Hana almost choked on her spit, “Holy shit what did Europe do to Jeno?” 

“Europe? You mean Y/N?” Yeeun asked, eyes wide and looked at Tzuyu, “He’s off limits by the way.” 

“Completely off limits.” Hana emphasized, “Untouchable.”

“Plus, you're not his type.” Yeeun said bluntly. She didn’t like the predatory look Tzuyu had on her as she watched Jeno converse with the others and knew that Hana was not going to be a big fan of this girl at all. They both had promised you that they’d keep an eye on Jeno and they weren’t going to let one person get in their way this tie.

“And how would you know? Are you friends with him?” Tzuyu asked slightly offended. They didn’t even know her and yet they were already calling her out. When the guy gave her a side glance and a light smile, she swore she felt her heart flutter and melt at the same time.

“He’s my boyfriends best friend so yes, I can confirm that you aren’t his type.” Hana said with a fake smile before watching Jaemin literally fly across the room and she had to laugh at his clinginess to the new blonde.

“Oh ho ho ho ho! Look who it is!!” Jaemin said excitedly going to give Jeno a big bro hug, “Who are you and what have you done to my best friend.”

“Blonde suits you dude.” Yukhei said, doing the same as Jaemin, “Wasn’t your flight supposed to land later today?” 

“Y/N made me take an earlier one cause she didn’t want me to miss school.” Jeno said before greeting Chenle, “I drove here straight from the airport so I made it just on time.” He then turned to the two unfamiliar boys who were looking at him curiously and waved, “Hey, I’m Jeno.”

“I’m Xiaojun, this is YangYang. The girl over there is Tzuyu” he said pointing at the long haired brunette that had yet to take her eyes off him, “We’re from the transfer program.” 

“Ah yes, I remember listening to Chenle whine to Jisung over the phone about how Renjun ditched him for Europe again.” Jeno said, chuckling slightly and turned to the girls, “Ladies, how were your breaks.” 

Both Yeeun and Hana got up and gave him a big hug leaving Tzuyu wide eyed, so they were actually friends with him.

“Someone seems well rested.” Hana teased, “So I guess going back with Renjun for break instead of spending it here was worth it then.” 

Jeno smiled thinking back to the last two weeks. It was a spontaneous decision but after talking to Renjun and Soonyoung, he decided to take a chance and fly to Europe to surprise you for winter break. He knew you would be busy with your new duties but it was all worth it. It had taken you and Jisung completely by surprise when he walked through the apartment door with Renjun and he remembered what it felt like when you jumped into his arms although it had been a literal two weeks since you had seen each other.

“Uh oh, someones thinking about Y/N again.” Jaemin teased, nudging Jeno lightly.

“WHIPPED.” Chenle called out and Jeno raised his eyebrows at him.

“And for that comment, you can ask Renjun for the sheet music you need for the performance. I’ll just tell him you lost it.” Jeno shot, making Chenle stick his tongue out at him though in reality, Jeno had the full binder of all the pieces in his locker that he stopped by on the way to the lunchroom.

“Speaking of performance, does this mean you’ll be part of todays lunch show with us?” Jaemin asked and Jeno nodded.

“As long as Yukhei is okay dancing Jisung’s part.” Jeno said with a nod and addressed the two others, “You guys should come check out the performance. I’m sure Chenle will tell you about it later.” 

“Dude, I was practicing all winter break for this!” Yukhei said with a fist pump, “I cannot believe I’ll be performing with the ACTUAL dream team.” 

“They’re part of this dance club called NCT.” Chenle explained when he saw the confused looks on the transfer students, “They put on various performances throughout the week here in the lunchroom. You’ll see later today.” he looked at his watch, “If you guys are ready, I can show you where your classes are. Unfortunately, the other Junior Dance major is in Europe right now so outside of the academics, I’ll leave you guys to them to show you where everything else is if that’s okay.” 

“I offered.” Jaemin said, “Which dance classes do you have?” 

“All of us have contemporary first period and freestyle third.” Xiaojun answered, “We tried getting into the advanced contemporary class but they said we couldn’t.”

“Yea, that’s the class Jeno, Hana and Yeeun have together. It's a reference class and only one other person got in without it. But I have freestyle during third so you won’t be alone” Jaemin explained, “Anyways, why don’t we start heading in the direction. We’ll see you later Chenle.” 

“I’ll meet you guys there.” Jeno said, “I need to give Chenle the binder with all of the performance pieces that he has to practice. Y/N and Renjun say thanks again for taking this on by the way, it takes a lot off their shoulders.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I couldn’t do it.” Chenle answered shrugging offhandedly, “I’ll meet you guys after class then to go to second period. Take care of them guys.” 

“See you guys in a bit.” Jeno said, “It was great meeting you guys too.” he said to the three. Though he didn’t really talk to Tzuyu much, he was getting an off vibe from her and the look Hana gave him was telling him to stay far away.

As the group entered the dance studio, YangYang couldn’t help but ask the question which was on everyone's mind, “Who is this Y/N and Renjun everyone keeps talking about?” 

Hana and Jaemin looked at each other, unsure of how to respond. There was a part of them that was uncomfortable sharing something so personal with people they just met but Hana also felt like she had to get a point across to Tzuyu who seemed to be eye fucking Jeno when they were in the lunchroom but she also didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

“They’re our close friends.” Jaemin answered as he stretched, “Y/N was actually the person that I was assigned to guide earlier this year but we only had two classes together. That’s why Hana said Jeno and Jisung eventually took over. They both had three classes with her so it made more sense.” 

“Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure Jeno would’ve fought you to be her guide had he known that she transferred back first.” Hana commented with a giggle. Yeeun and Yukhei had split off fairly quickly to go to their own classes so it was only the five of them, “But things were rough between them for a while.” 

“Oh so this Y/N chick and Jeno are dating.” Xiaojun said, making Tzuyus eyes widen, there was no way someone that looked like Jeno could already be in a relationship, he didn’t seem like the type  but what did she know?

“I wouldn’t use that term when you reference her around Jeno.” Jaemin warned, he didn’t even like that term being used on any of the girls in his friend circle, “And no...they aren’t dating.” 

“It’s complicated...like six degrees of separation. Y/N, Jeno and Jaemin all grew up together and attended the same dance school. Y/N left four years ago to attend a ballet program in Europe and she came back home for summer dance camp and met me and Jisung who is also part of our group. Some stuff happened over the years that tie into Yukhei and Yeeun. When she transferred back this year, things kind of...started making sense?” Hana asked looking at Jaemin who shrugged, “Anyways, she, Renjun and Jisung are in London for the semester. They’ll be back before summer though”

“They’re actually in Germany right now.” Jeno said coming up behind them, changed into his dance clothes and his phone tightly in his grasp. Tzuyu just thought he looked like a whole snack. The black T-shirt, sweats and cap added to the aesthetic of this image of him that was building in her mind. “There's one week left till Jisung has to be at training camp so the five of them are doing one last travel before lockdown.” 

“Of course you would know this.” Hana said, rolling her eyes, “Anyways, we can talk more later. I need to know what Jeno got Y/N for Christmas so I can beat his gift.” 

“You won’t” Jeno said with a large grin, “Nothing will beat my gift. She said so.” 

“That’s a lie!” Hana gasped, “Now I really need to know!”

“I got her new pointe shoes and took her to the NutCracker ballet performance on Christmas.” he grinned and Hana scoffed, “Good luck.” 

By the time lunch came, the three transfer students and Chenle were all making their way to the lunchroom where cheers could be heard. Leading them to the center where most of the NCT Club had gathered along with Yeeun and Sicheng along with the transfer student, Kun whom he was assigned to. From what Tzuyu could see, there was only the Jaemin guy and Yukhei, but where was Jeno? He was the only one she was looking forward to watch. 

She had seen him lead the choreography during their first period class and she was so mesmerized by his dance style and movement. The way he made comments to various people, telling them how to improve like a true leader. It made her temporarily forget what Hana had said before about him not being in a relationship yet and Tzuyu was positive that she could change his mind. It was obvious Hana’s warnings from earlier were going ignored.

An up beat started playing from the speaker behind Jaemin and Yukhei and Yukhei let out a big breath, “HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!! LETS MAKE SOME NOISE FOR OUR NATIONAL CHAMPION!!!”

A group of the NCT Club split in two and Jeno came running, doing a backflip into the center, causing cheers to erupt from all around the room. Gasps were heard throughout as they realized that their national champion was now blonde, many complimenting how it suited him perfectly.

“Are you recording this for Y/N?” Tzuyu heard Hana ask Yeeun who nodded, “She’s going to scream when she sees this performance.” 

“Jisung is going to be so jealous that Yukhei took his spot.” Yeeun commented with a giggle as the performance started.

As the boys danced, Tzuyu couldn’t keep her eyes off of Jeno. This was a different style of dance then she had seen earlier on. It was so strong, powerful and there were so many flips involved. The look on Jeno’s face too said so many different emotions and the way he flowed with Yukhei and Jaemin was on another level. It was obvious he was the lead since he was in the center for most of the performance but it didn’t mean the others couldn’t shine. 

When the performance was over, applause erupted around the room and the group gathered around the trio, Hana and Yeeun handing water bottles to their respective boyfriends while Doyoung ran to the center to engulf his favorite junior in a hug and suddenly the bad boy she had seen turned into a puppy.

She tried to make her way to Jeno once everyone was done congratulating him but he had looked down at his phone and was quick to make an excuse to leave out the cafeteria doors.

“Probably Y/N.” Jaemin said with a smile, watching the blonde literally sprint, “Isn’t it like a ten hour difference between here and Germany though?” 

“Seven actually.” YangYang commented, “I lived there for a few years before going back to China for school. So it’s around 6am there right now.” he said looking at his watch, “Are you sure he isn’t dating her?”

“Nope.” Jaemin said, “Their schedules won’t let them right now but he can wait, he’s already waited four years. He can wait a few more months.” he explained and changed the subject.” What did you guys think of the performance?” 

“You guys are so cool” Xiaojun gushed, “Is this a normal thing?” 

“Weekly? The seniors of the club organize the performances and we meet almost everyday after school.” Yukhei explained, arm around Yeeun, “If you guys want, you could come check it out with us today. Hana’s our manager so I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Yeeun also hangs out too.” 

“Not at all.” Hana said and looked at Tzuyu, “You’re welcome to join us too. There isn’t going to be any practice since there was a performance today but everyone just kind of hangs out....” her eyes widened and she slapped her hand to her face, “Frick, I totally forgot about the retreat too. I need to find Jeno. I’ll see you guys later.” she said and ran out the doors.

Afterschool came faster than anyone had suspected and all the transfer students were gathered in the NCT Practice Room. Hana had called the meeting to order and the only other person that wasn’t there was Jeno.

“Is this to discuss the weekend retreat or spring break?” Ten asked as the group gathered but there were still people talking above Hana that she couldn’t even get a word in..

“HEY! Just because Y/N isn’t here doesn’t mean that you guys should be disrespecting Hana.” Jeno called from the door as he walked in with his bag and keys swinging around one finger, “She’s just as much as our manager as Y/N is.” 

“Thank you Jeno Lee.” Jaemin huffed, happy he didn’t have to say anything, he couldn’t believe the disrespect.

This made the whole room go silent and the people who weren’t used to Jeno’s outburst actually looked scared, especially the transfer students. 

“Did you talk to Y/N? Is she letting us use her place?” Hana asked since she couldn’t find him during lunch, it had turned out that it was his mom that called and not you. Because it seemed private, she didn’t want to interrupt instead, opting to text him instead.

“She gave the okay. Unfortunately the date is right in the middle of rehearsals so she or Renjun won’t be able to make it.” Jeno said nodding with a frown, “I have the keys at my place and we planned it over winter break. I’ll give you and the leaders the plans after but I actually have to run to my place in Gangnam for a bit so I wanted to let you know I won’t be present today.”

“Meeting up with Soonyoung?” Jaehyun asked knowing that the Selects foreign rep and Jeno got close after you had introduced the two.

“Forgot something that needs to get to my parents actually.” Jeno said with an awkward smile and looked at Sicheng, “I’ll stop by after if that’s okay.” 

“You’re the only one who has another key so I mean I can’t stop you.” Sicheng commented, “Can you bring me back some stuff I need then?” 

“Text me.” he said with a nod, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” 

“Jeno is definitely up to something and it has nothing to do with his parents.” Jaemin whispered to Yukhei as YangYang and Xiaojun picked up on their conversation, “They’re with Y/N’s parents on a cruise in the Carribean right now so they wouldnt even be able to contact him to send them anything.”

“Who knows what he’s doing.” Yukhei said sighing, “Sometimes I wish Jisung was here to read him.” 

“So do I, Xuxi...so do I…” 

[arks-self-ship]

I’ve mentioned before I cannot stop thinking about Nighty cause my brain is like “holy fuck we’ve been together roughly 6 years” so here’s a rough timeline of us

Please note this is our world life, and is very different from my real life and my experiences have been different. Some pieces have changed over the years to fit who I am (especially with my transition). Some details will vary on occasion but Nighty is the only one who I have an actual guideline for us

(Huge lore dump below)

2014- first meet, I was new to the institute and wasn’t really good at fighting and had trouble making friends with everyone. Kurt asked for my help setting up a prank on Jean cause I happened to be walking by and we started talking and found out we shared an interest in games and listened to a lot of the same music. Ended up being good friends and I started hanging out with him and kitty quite a bit, but wasn’t real close with the rest of the team because of how shy I was. Already knew I was a guy and had hormone blockers and a binder, my uniform had a compressor which was a lot safer and ended up wearing that under my clothes sometimes instead. Wasn’t yet ready to cut my hair to short yet. Depression had started before I even joined the team and was dealing with a  lot of personal stuff. The professor had helped me change my name legally before even joining which was nice

2015- Starting opening up to the team and getting closer with everyone and made some friends at school who were Kurt’s friends but didn’t really have any friends of my own yet. Was getting a lot better at fighting and getting a handle on my powers, and discovered I could use emotional energy to create real bursts later in the year. Started getting really into my art around this time too. Kurt was apparently starting to question his sexuality too but tried not to think about it. Came out to Kurt that I was trans at this point, later in the year told Kitty too. 

Around the middle of the year Kurt kissed me for the first time, we had just been hanging out in my room laying on my bed talking honestly about ourselves and having a nice conversation about our lives. I was caught off guard and didn’t kiss back and he panicked and teleported away. It was a couple days before we really had a chance to be alone and I kissed him back finally, and we ended up talking for a long time about what this meant for us. We ended up being like “We’re still best friends, but now there’s some new stuff to that”, and Kurt wasn’t ready to come out yet so we dated secretly and only Kitty knew. Kurt identified as Bi for a time while he sorted out his feelings but ended up realizing he was just gay late in the year. I was still ace but knew i was bi-romantic

2016- The Professor was really helpful and said he would help pay for any transitioning I wanted to do, as long as I did my best on the team and in school. Ended up telling the rest of the team one by one that I was trans, not everyone really got it but they were supportive and nice about it. Really started to get better at my powers and finally cut my hair real short and had a mohawk for a bit until I settled for an undercut later in the year. Made some friend’s of my own who tended to be the “scary kids” but were actually super chill and played a lot of video games. Ended up getting top surgery as soon as I could.

Same year mutantkind got exposed to the world and I had trouble going back to school with that going on and my depression hit hard, but Kurt was there to help. My new friends thought it was super cool I had powers tho and were a nice support system

Early in the year we had accidentally gotten caught kissing by Toad, who I ended up making him swear to secrecy under the threat of beating the shit out of him. Turns out, he was gay too! So as long as he didn’t tell anyone about us we wouldn’t tell anyone about him, but we ended up on pretty decent terms with him later on. Later though R/ogue borrowed Kurt’s powers in a fight and learned we were dating, but she also promised not to tell anyone. We were also pretty sure Logan, the professor and Jean all knew but weren’t sure (they did)

2017- Pretty chill year, until towards the end where me and Kurt got caught kissing at school by a kid we didn’t know and the news spread through the school really fast. It was really rough on him, but I ended up bringing him into my new non-mutant friend group cause they were mostly queer too. The team learning about it was… awkward to say the least but they we’re pretty chill about it. Because of this Kurt ended up coming out to his parents when he went home for Christmas that year right before he came back. It was rough at first and they didn’t really get it but were the awkward kind of supportive. I mean their kid was already blue and teleported, being gay wasn’t that shocking.

Me and Kurt had gotten really serious around this time, and were talking about our future together, but we were avoiding talking about college because we were scared we’d want to go separate places and long distance was really scary

2018- Senior year was rough for both of us, my grades were doing terribly and the depression didn’t help and everyone knowing about us being together and being mutants was really not helping. If we didn’t have each other I don’t think we could have made it through it, and I probably would have dropped out. I barely graduated but only because Jean helped tutor me and secretly some of my friends did some of the work for me so I could focus on things that were more of a priority. Graduating was so nice, but I suffered severe burnout that summer, and did nothing almost the entire time. Kurt also got an upgraded holowatch at this time that didn’t constantly break on him and was way more durable. I also figured out how to make the emotional energy take shape, easiest things are simple objects and its usually weapons (Swords, bats, bow, ect)

A couple things with our relationship did happen though, that Christmas I went to go meet Kurt’s family. They were super nice, but really awkward and it was nice to get away for a bit. While we were there we ended up finally talking about college and our plans. I knew I wanted to learn psychology and Kurt still wasn’t sure of his plans, but we ended up deciding to do the community college to get our general classes done first and that would buy us more time to figure things out.

2019- Took a gap year together and ended up traveling together across the country in a van. It was a great way to de-stress from everything and finally get a break from being superheroes too. The whole thing brought us a lot closer and Kurt tried to propose at one point while we were traveling, I ended up saying no but in a more of a “Not yet” kind of way, because of how young we are. We talked about it, and agreed we would get engaged when we were a bit older but we kept the rings as promise rings for that one day when we would try that again. We also ended up getting our hair streaks not long before we went back to the institute as a surprise for everyone, plus we thought it was cute.

Please note that the continuity of if there is a virus in this AU shifts based on what I’m feeling for the day cause sometimes I wanna daydream about going out 😔

2020- oh my god this year has been crazy, we started college together and finally being able to be out has been so nice. Or it was until ya know… we got hit with a plague (yup we have that here too) and have mostly been doing classes online which is a shame. We were both looking forward to campus life and being locked in the institute all the time is a nightmare, especially with all the new students that we’ve been roped into helping teach… But hey, hopefully things will be getting better soon!

2020 revised- This year has been wild, there’s so many new kids at the institute now! The professor keeps roping us in to help teach. Being back on the team though is super nice! Although we do have a new member, Laura, who Logan just apparently brought out of nowhere even tho she was the girl who attacked us a couple years back? She’s kinda odd but she’s trying her best (I think…). College has been interesting, some of my friends ended up moving away but some stayed in town which it’s been nice having classes with them.

Some things have stayed the same in both versions tho!

Kurt’s birth mom (M//ystique) has finally been working to turn over a new leaf. She’s definitely not a good guy but she’s not working with the bad guys anymore? Which i guess is progress?? She’s been trying to reconnect with Kurt and R/ogue, it’s been slow cause R/ogue doesn’t want anything to do with her really but Kurt’s talked to her a few times and they’ve gotten lunch a couple times. I guess after the apocalypse thing it kinda made her think about things, and then Kurt and me being gone for so long kinda made her really reconsider things.

It seems most of the brotherhood is still in town tho, which has caused some problems and they have a couple new members too which has been… a problem. M//agneto has been laying low though, which has been nice so the brotherhood hasn’t done anything to bad.

Being back at the school is kinda nice though, I missed being around my friends and luckily the school has had renovations and expansions so there’s more rooms and the senior/core team rooms have their own bathrooms! Which, holy shit is so nice…

Who knows what the future holds for us, but as long as we’re together I know we’ll be fine

[helbramstrauma-main]

Thorn

Masterlist

Albert DaSilva X Reader

A Modern AU: A seemingly perfect life with one thread loose. What happens when you pull it?

Word count: 2089

My world isn't too bad, I follow the rules and good things come from it. That being said, I don't live in the most interesting world. I go to school, get good grades, have a close group of friends. Although I live a boring life, it doesn't mean I don't have hobbies, every day after school I go to the band room. Every day for two hours I play the flute, afterward, I go home for dinner. Soon after that though, I give flute lessons. Don't get me wrong I love playing the flute, but it has become my whole identity. Sometimes I just want to rebel against my family. It isn't that they treat me wrong, but being around them is like being wrapped in bubble wrap. 

Of course millions of people wish they were in my place, not having any real trouble. Of course, I do have a thorn in my side, but it isn't genocide or even abusive. My life is easy, excluding Albert DaSilva, he just seems to wreak my life. However, he seems to be the only exciting thing about it.

History in the basement seems to be the hardest part of my day.  The temperature is unpredictable, but today it seems to be a sauna. Unfortunately, my top is strapless so I have to keep my flannel on. Not to mention that the permanent thorn in my side just happens to be behind me. If Albert wasn't the only interesting part of my life I would never entertain his notes. Alas, he is though, so I always give in. Each of his notes says some silly pick up line, he is shameless. Almost as shameless for when he says, "you know after 15 minutes we can leave if he doesn't show up". That's another painful thing about this class, the teacher is always late, without a doubt. I am brought back into reality when I hear the boom of Mr. Richardson's voice. That's another thing, he talks way too loud.

"Partner time" an audible sigh leaves every person's mouth. Another thing about History is how he chooses groups. Like in elementary school everyone has their name on a popsicle stick and we choose our fates. The sticks are never nice, I usually get stuck with someone who lets me do all the work. Doing work for two people in half the time. It is almost like the list for everything bad in History is never-ending, Richardson's deadlines are never proportionate. Since today is Friday it will probably be due on Monday "since we have the whole weekend to work on it". Goodbye weekend plans. The project guidelines are being passed out and before I even look at it, I can tell it is one of his rambling masterpieces. Every assignment, without a doubt, he writes four paragraphs to say a simple thing, but he always contradicts himself making his class impossible. It is my only B, straight A's then this blemish.

My inner monologue is cut short by the familiar sound of popsicle sticks hitting a plastic cup. Another simultaneous groan fills the room as people start picking names. That is one plus side to this, you get to look at people as their eyes light up or their soul leaves their body after reading their partner's name. He stands in front of me mixing up the sticks, only one thought crosses my head. Not DaSilva, not DaSilva, not DaSilva. I squeeze my eyes shut in anticipation and I let out a breath I've been holding in. Upon opening my eyes I can feel my soul leave my body, Albert DaSilva.

"Don't just stare at it, it isn't going to change?" Richardson says wanting me to announce my partner to the class.

I swallow the saliva that has accumulated in my mouth before saying, "DaSilva". An audible sigh of relief washes over the class. Albert is known for getting on Mr. Richardson's nerves in class and his grade reflects it, and just because it is a group project does not change Mr. Richardson's harsh grades for him. However I don't know why I am not upset, normally the thought of working with Albert is enough to nauseate me, but in practice, it seems to excite me. Why?

After an extensive explanation of the project that somehow doesn't define the project at all, Richardson ends his lecture early to let us make plans with our partners. I spin around in my chair to face the thorn in my side, to see him looking all too pleased. "What are you doing after school, cupcake," He says with a mischievous grin. Why can no one smile normally? Also cupcake? I am not a cupcake! Just ignore him and get this over with.

"To be honest I am surprised you are even planning on doing this project," I say, fully expecting to do all of the work.

He leans farther back on his chair still making eye contact with me, "if you are going to fail the project because of me, it would be impolite not to help" his hand goes over his chest to show mock sincerity. However, as his hand leaves the table he falls backward from his chair. The noise is loud enough to make me jump and I watched it happen. Mr. Richardson yells at him for falling out of his chair. Great, that is another five points off our project.

"I think we can work on the project separately, and just do half the work. I can do the chart, reading, and essay. You can do the PowerPoint and the poster" I say, desperate to not hang out with him.

"But what are you doing after school" Albert persists.

"Band practice, and then I am going home," I say hoping that he just lets it go.

This time leaning on his desk, he sets his head in his hands and looks at me. I can see every detail on his face, I can see faint lines connecting his freckles together. It looks like he tried to wash them off but the faint lines are still there. My eyes wander around his face until they land on his hazel eyes. He isn't saying anything but his eyes are begging. I am not giving in, my parents would never let me go to a guy's house that they never met before. That being said I don't have to tell them, but they will worry about me. I continue to argue with myself, but then I look into Albert's eyes again. I am making a mistake, I am making a mistake, my attempts to reason with myself are useless.

"But practice ends at five, you can pick me up by the pool doors" I commit. No going back now. My mom will be waiting for me on the other side of the school, I cannot let her see me get into his car.

DaSilva's eyes light up even more at me giving in, and he is now grinning ear to ear.

The rest of the school day goes by quickly, but all I can think of is, how I am lying to my parents. I am finally going to be free, I am going to live a little. Of course, my idea of living a little is lying to my parents to do homework, but it is living a little not living a lot. After we are dismissed from band, I practically grab my belongings and sprint to the other wing of the school. Usually, I would stay back to help the teacher clean up, but I cannot risk seeing my mom. Once I make it to the pool doors I see Albert leaning against his car. He spots me and smiles, motioning for me to join him outside. The air conditioner is blasting cold air, instinctively making me wrap my flannel around myself tighter. My phone rings and I see that it is my mom calling. Just let it ring, don't answer it.

"Why aren't you answering your phone?" Albert asks looking down at it.

"I don't recognize the number" I lie.

He just kind of gives me a look before saying, "it says mom at the top, and it has a photo of you two together on the screen". Right, instead of answering Albert or the phone, I simply decline the call and turn off my phone. This earns another strange look from Albert. "You could have just said you guys don't get along".

"No, I'm trying to rebel, live a little. I'm never allowed to go anywhere and I'm 17, I deserve some freedom" I say, being way too honest to the thorn in my side. I may call him a thorn but it dawns on me that all he does is mildly annoy me, but calling him a thorn sounds cool.

"You do know your great rebellion is doing homework, right" Albert is now chuckling, "kind of pathetic".

"What if I did this," I say quickly taking off my flannel slightly to reveal a shoulder. Never in a million years did I expect to be laughing with Albert DaSilva in his car rebelling, but here I am. The rest of the car ride, however, was silent and not the good kind either. We resort to listening to the radio instead. With my phone turned off I don't have anything to do, so I go back to studying Albert.

His ginger hair peaks out of his backward baseball cap and his hands are calloused. His lips are chapped and he has licked them 7 times before we reach his house. Pulling into his garage Albert turns off the music. Shuffling around to collect his things from the back. I simply grab my purse and binders and climb out of the vehicle. Shortly after he leads me into his basement. It isn't finished but behind the stairs, there are a couple of bean bag chairs and coffee table.

"My brothers shouldn't bother us down here," he says sitting in one of the two bean bags. I mimic his action and take out my laptop and History project. The thought of it makes me yawn, but then again I hear Albert's stomach grumble. "Why don't we order some pizza?" Albert phrases as a question but immediately start dialing a number, let me know that we are ordering pizza. "It will be here in thirty minutes"

The time before the pizza arrives, I am able to get through about half of the question of the reading, and Albert is still researching for the PowerPoint. However, after the pizza arrives all productivity comes to a halt. Ignoring the boring assignment, we focus on each other. I can feel Albert's eyes studying me while we talk. To be honest, I would usually be offended, but I am loving the attention. Even though Albert is possibly the most interesting person I know my body is just telling me to sleep.

"Before we get back to work, how about a siesta," I say looking at the boy I used to refer to as a thorn but now is tolerable. Albert is attractive, I have known this for a while, but it is easy to ignore when he is bothering you, but now I see the personality that matches the outside. This shouldn't be allowed, no one should be able to be this level of attractive and have this personality, it is unfair to every other person on earth.

"I don't see the harm in a nap," Albert says kicking his feet onto the bean bag I was sitting on. I take this as a cue to rest my torso on his bean bag. At some point, I rest my head on his chest, and I must admit he makes a good pillow too. I can hear his heartbeat against my head and it soothes me. I can feel myself dozing off when I feel Albert's fingers running through my hair. There is no other way to describe this situation other than, it just feels right.

"You know you're cute, cupcake," Albert says, half asleep.

"You're are not so bad yourself DaSilva," I say equally as exhausted. We fall into another silence but this time, it is the good kind. We fall asleep just like that, with my head on his chest studying his heart's rhythm and his hand tangled in my hair. Needless to say, neither of us set alarms, so neither of us woke up until mourning.

[abigailpoe]

Date Night Alphabet  Micheal x MC

Summary: Okay, so I saw a few NSFW alphabet things floating around, and I wanted to make one with cute date nights that the LI and MC would go on.

Notes: I don’t own any of these characters. This is my first orginal post in about a year, and I had it in my drafts. If you’re tagged or not, it’s the tags that have been there for a long time... Anyways! Please enjoy!

Rating: PG

Tags: @boneandfur  @drivenbyfantasy@laniquelove@tmarie82@angstymarshmallow @ashtonmore@blazerina@beaumonttrash@choicesmyway @dangerous-capri15@syltti78@thechrispowell

A: Anniversary: Congratulations! You and Micheal have been dating for a whole year. In honor of this, Micheal decided to take you out on the town. You got all dressed up, but he took you to the park, making you confused. He made your favorite foods, played your favorite music, and printed your favorite pictures together as polaroids.

B: Birthday Breakfast: Sick day! Micheal knew you had been sick for about a week, and you had also been quarantine with no visitors allowed. On your birthday, your dad lets Micheal bring you some pancakes and hash browns. A few weeks later, Micheal got sick, but he said it was worth it.

C: Cat: Micheal hates cats, but he knew that you loved them. You couldn’t have one at your old house, but now, you were allowed to. Micheal went everywhere looking for what he thought was the perfect cat. On Christmas, he came over and supposed you with one. It has a little pink collar, and there were toys in the box. He said he found the cat when riding his bike one day. He didn’t want to leave it there, so he took care of it for a while before giving it to you. You named it Snow.

D: Dance Class: Your aunt is getting married this weekend! You even get to take Micheal as a date. Your whole family was going to be there, and he was super nervous about it. You asked if he wanted to take a dance class before, and Micheal said yes. The two of you learned some basic steps, but only after Micheal stepped on your feet a few times. At the wedding, Micheal got it off with your family. Micheal kept complimenting you on your bridesmaid dress. But, it wouldn’t be a party without a prank, so Michael and you hacked in the stereo system and played some more modern music.

E: Escape Room: You And Micheal decided to try out the new escape room in town. The room was Romeo and Juliet themed, and in order to escape, you had to reunite the families and save the duo. You and Micheal didn’t finish, but you both decided to get ice cream afterward.

F: Flying: Beating Micheal for flying lessons seemed like fun when you started, but it quickly turned south when both of you realized you had fears of heights right before you were supposed to jump out of a plane and go sky diving. Was it scary? Hell yes. But did you get a goo Go Pro video of Micheal screaming to make it worth it? Also, hell yes. 

G: Girl’s Night / Guy’s Night: Okay, let’s be honest, even though Micheal is your boyfriend and you love him, sometimes the two of you just need some time with your friends. That’s when the groups schedule a girl’s night out with the guys going out on the same night. You started out at the mall, but you all because hungry after the first few stores. The girls decided to head to the 

H: Hacking: Max and others from that group kept messing with you and Micheal while at the diner. They took your food and dumped a milkshake onto Micheal’s head. You decided to get them back at their graduation. Micheal taught you a few basic tricks. In the PowerPoint they played at the end, you added a few bad pictures of Max that Micheal provided you. Zoe caught you, so you ran out of the school and hopped onto Micheal’s bike and drove away.

I: Indoor Camping: You had always lived in a city and never got to go camping, so Micheal was going to take you one weekend. It ended up getting canceled due to rain. You both already had your bags packed. Your dad said you could go camping inside your living room. The two of you started a fire in the fireplace, and you made s’mores.

J: July Forth: On July 4th, you and Micheal went to the park to watch the fireworks. You took your car this Micheal, and you had a picnic before the show. He later out a blanket, and about halfway through the show, you got cold. Micheal gave you his jacket, causing you to fall asleep on his shoulder. Later, you woke up on your couch with Micheal on an air mattress on the floor. You slid down and cuddled up to him the rest of the night.

K: Karaoke: After a long basketball game, Micheal took you to your favorite karaoke spot. The two of you got a corner booth and ordered a lot of food. After you got your food, other people in your group also came to get food. Micheal said he’d only sing if you went, so you did. You got up there and sang a song to Micheal, and he sang a song to you as well.

L: Late Night: It’s the night after getting home from the road trip, and Micheal and you are playing board games, video games, and ate three pizzas all on your own. You watched a few movies and played some poker with each other. Though neither of you really knew how to play, at least Micheal said he didn’t know how to play. The two of you ended up falling asleep in the middle of Endgame with donuts and other various foods all over both of you.

M: Midnight Memories: It’s the afterparty prom night, and that means partying until the sun come up with all of your friends. That means hitting up the casino because you all finally turned 18! After the late night with Micheal, you learned the right way to play poker. You didn’t win much, but hey! $20 is better than nothing.

N: Netflix: Stranger Things is back and better than ever! However, you and Micheal agreed not to watch the new episodes until the weekend when you could hang out with each other. However, you both keep finding each other loading each other’s Netflix accounts at school. And at lunch. Every single day of the week for five days. But when the weekend finally comes, you both put on your 80′s attire and get some New Coke, which you quickly threw away.

O: Open When Letters: Micheal was going to visit family for the whole summer in Montana. There wouldn’t be any internet so the two of you wouldn’t be able to talk. On the day he was leaving, he gave you a box full of open when letters and one of his hoodies. The two of you had to go old school and wrote to each other during the summer. Your favorite open when letter was “Open When You Forget I Love You.” It was addressed to be open on the next to last week of summer, so you saved it. In the letter, he talked about when he fell in love with you. He also filled the envelope with pictures he took of you when you weren’t paying attention. Right after you got done reading it, the doorbell rang, and it was Micheal outside.

P: Prom: Prom is finally here! you both get dressed up and arive in style on Micheal’s motorcycle. Sure, holding your dress up on that thing was hard to do on a motorcycle, but Micheal only drove it about four blocks from your house. The night was amazing with memories to go around, incluing the Midnight Memories made at the after party. 

Q: Quixotic Adventure: After graduation, and within 24 hours, you, Micheal, and the rest of the group are heading on a weeks long vacation to Texas! Who knows what kind of trouble you’re going to get into there? For one, loosing Maria’s binder in the airport, which resulted in a melt down, the rest of the trip went well. Micheal and Caleb even rode a mechanical bull. 

R: Road trip: You woken up with a shake at 4 am. You scream as you find Micheal standing above you, and out of impulse, you slap him. Lucky for you, your dad got it on video. Micheal reveals that he came home early from camp, and he’s taking you to the city about 2 hours away. On the way, you stop and eat greasy diner food while watching a sunrise. You stay in the city for the whole day with Micheal, and you get home around midnight.

S: Ski Trip: Senior year has come, and you finally get to take the school skiing trip that you’ve been waiting for! But on the way there, the group stops, and you get food poising, meaning that when you get to the lodge that you stay in your room for most of the first day. That night, Emma and Maria come back with a surprise! They snuck Micheal into your hotel room with chicken noodle soup and crackers to help you feel better!

T: Theme Park: When driving in the middle of no where with Micheal to find a nice place to picnic, you and Micheal stumble upon an abandoned theme park, so the two of you decide to sneak in. You never realized it, but Micheal was secretly a fantastic photographer. The two of you ate and did several shoots before finding some rats and leaving. 

U: Unique: Surpise! Micheal decided to get peices of paper and write an numbers on them. The first role is for outfits, second is for food, and thrird is the activity. However, he didn’t erally think out how you’re suppoed to wear a winter coat and sweater in a Japanse steakhouse while then going swimming. Even though he didn’t think eveything through 

V: Video: Congratulations! It’s been a year of you and Micheal dating. For your one year, you gave him a box filled with different things from dates you went on. There was a menu from your first date; a dried up rose from the second; some things from prom; and more. Micheal, however, pulled out a CD and put it into the movie player. Confused, you sat down on the couch as he pressed play. The video started with a few days after you met with you skateboarding in the parking lot. Then, the first football game. Football homecoming. Basketball homecoming. When you took down Isa. Prom. It was clips of your life as a homemade movie. Him saving you from getting hurt. His winning throw to you as football. Everything.

W: Winter Wonderland: Sledding. Ice skating. All your favorite things wrapped all up into one day with your amazing boyfriend. However, things go wrong when you loose your bracelet in the middle of the day. Micheal said he would look for it, but you said it was too cold to try. you even suggested that the two of you wait until the snow melted. The next day, you open your house door to find Micheal, blue and shivering, holding your bracelet. When you bring him inside and cover him with blankets and cuddle to warm him, he tells you that he didn’t want you to loose it, so he searched all night for it.

X: XBox: It’s Black Friday! The sales and people are crazy, as they usually are. You decided to go without Micheal to try to see what you could get him for Christmas, and that’s when you see it: a Xbox. You push and shove people out of the way. This day will go down in history as the day you accidentally knocked over a child (don’t worry, you helped them up). That’s when you reach it. And when you go to grab it, someone else grabs the item too. When you look up, there stands Micheal. Welp... you ended up getting him jacket instead.

Y: Yoga: Let’s be real: Micheal has always hated yoga. However, after a back injury from trying to run from Hearst, Micheal agreed to do it since your doctor recommended it. It was... rough to say the least. But, you were happy that he at least tried to help you the best he could, even if he, himself, ended up in the ER after you.

Z: Zoo: You’ve always wanted to volunteer at a zoo that helps injured animals and then releases them back into the wild, unless their injuries are too extensive. Micheal and your dad worked together to allow the three of you to go to the zoo together and help. You had a lot of fun, even though it was sad, helping some bear cubs that lost their mom to a poacher.

[believe-in-alderaan]

Extended Drama

The Arena

believe_in_alderaan

Summary: At the center of the arena, Cal was forced to his knees. He was too weak to fight back, and knew that even if he tried, he was outnumbered. He was looking down at his hands and watched a small drop of blood land on his palm. Rough hands grabbed his hair and forced him to look up, where a large hologram was looming over him.

Drawing out the happenings when Cal is faced with a bounty hunter on Zeffo, and eventually brought to the arena at Ordo Eris.

Notes: Needs more drama in the arena, I'd say. Needed more... whump.

Comment if you think of a scene that you'd like expanded.

Work Text:

Cal tried to run away from the bounty hunter. Zeffo was already an annoying planet to navigate, and now he was trapped in some sort of shield and trying to defend himself against a maniac.

“Ha! Got ya!” the man growled after landing a shot at Cal’s shoulder. The hit stung, but Cal kept his focus. A burst of flames from the man’s flamethrower made Cal lose his balance.

“Who are you?!” Cal yelled angrily, deflecting another shot. The man didn’t answer. Cal tried to search his appearance for any familiar sign, but he couldn’t place him. All he could tell was that this man had nothing to do with the empire, not that it was any comfort.

Cal made another run to escape, but was forced back by the field the hunter had rigged. He swung around and dodged another blow from the flame thrower. He then force-pushed the man as far away from him as possible.

With a devious smirk, the bounty hunter raised his wrist and shot a stinging binding around Cal’s arms, causing him to drop his saber. “Auuugh!!” Cal growled through his teeth, the electric pulses bringing him to his knees. He looked up and saw the butt of a blaster at his face. Then, darkness.

---

The ground was ice cold. Cal shivered, waiting for his head to stop spinning before opening his eyes. He tasted blood. His mind was foggy as he tried to piece together what had happened. The air around him felt stale and cold, and his shoulder ached angrily from the blaster bolt that had grazed it.

Slowly he raised his head and opened his eyes. Everything was blurry at first, and even as things focused, Cal had no idea what he was looking at. He fully sat up and looked around.

“BD… where are we…” he groaned. He was met with silence. Panic began to creep into his heart. “BD-1?” He stood frantically and whipped around, searching every corner of the small room he had woken up in. “Little buddy??” His calls became more desperate. Fear gripped him as he slowly realized he was completely and utterly alone. “Where are you?” He reached for his lightsaber. Nothing.

Cal was in full panic mode now. He searched the room once more. “BD?” he croaked. He began force-pulling panels off the walls, searching for a way out of his prison. He knew he had limited time to escape. Whomever had brought him here could come back at any time.

If I had my lightsaber, I could just cut my way out, Cal thought bitterly. He pulled at another panel revealing a bundle of wires. Behind him he found the panel that controlled the door to his cell. Carefully he selected what wires he knew would be powered and pulled them across the room to plug them into the socket. Sure enough, the door shorted out and opened. Cal breathed a sigh of relief. Being a scrapper had had its benefits.

Around him were more cells, most occupied with creatures from different planets. Some were obviously dead. Cal swallowed hard as he made his way, peering into each cell in search of his droid companion.

One cell contained a person. Cal approached cautiously “Hey,” he half-whispered. “Someone in there?”

“HI CHUBA DA NAGO?” the figure demanded.

Cal didn’t understand, but pressed on. “Where are we?” he asked carefully.

“Hopa!? Sorc Tormo KILLEE uba, shag poodoo!” The angered man lashed out and caught Cal by the collar, slamming his face against the bars with a loud CLANG. “Stuta karkina tonta! BWAHAHAA!”

Cal instinctively force-pushed the man back. He hit the wall with a crunch. Not waiting to see if he’d actually hurt the guy, Cal ran down the damp corridor. His steps echoed awkwardly off of the rock and metal walls. Cal feared he’d be noticed, but his urgency kept him going. He approached another cell. A familiar chirp reached his ears.

“BD-1, is that you?” Cal yelped in relief. His droid beeped back happily. “I found you! Are you okay? Let’s get you out of there!”

Cal searched around the edges of the door for something to pull at, but found nothing. He backed up a bit and looked up, noticing a platform going to a chute that lead back into the cell that BD-1 was stuck in. Cal forced a wireconnection out of the wall to use as a rope to swing up to the platform. He then dropped down and rushed over to BD-1.

“Hey! Oh, I’m happy to see you too,” Cal put his hands on BD’s head and searched him over, making sure he was in one piece. He noticed a restraining bolt, which explained why BD wasn’t moving from where he stood. “Let’s get his off you. Those jerks.” Cal pulled one of his tools from his belt and managed to pry off the bolt with no damage to his friend.

“Boop boop!” BD chirped happily. He hopped on to Cal’s back. Cal looked back at him fondly. The tightness in his chest was starting to loosen. Now he just needed to locate his lightsaber and a way out of wherever he was.

BD-1 managed to slice open the cell door. Cal cautiously stepped out. “Nobody’s come down yet. I’m starting to wonder if anybody is even around,” he breathed. He set out looking for an exit. His teeth were chattering again and he realized he was starving. How long was he unconscious?

Rounding a corner, he spotted an elevator. “Well, up is better than down at this point,” he commented. BD chirped in agreement. They stepped on to the platform and it began to rise. A low rumble from above began to sound more and more like music. “Well, sounds like somebody’s home after all.”

Cal stepped off the lift. The music that greeted him was familiar. Suddenly he was assaulted from both sides and his wrists were forced into tight rusty binders. “What the..” His assailants pushed him out toward an open arena, where deafening cheers made Cal’s heart pound in his throat. What is this? Cal pushed back toward one of his masked captors. The man struck back sharply on his head with the butt of a knife. A small trickle of blood fell down the left side of his face.

At the center of the arena, Cal was forced to his knees. He was too weak to fight back, and knew that even if he tried, he was outnumbered. He was looking down at his hands and watched a small drop of blood land on his palm. Rough hands grabbed his hair and forced him to look up, where a large hologram was looming over him.

“Ugh FINALLY he ariiiiives!” a booming voice filled the stadium. “We had action on how long it would take you to get here.”

Cal was brought to his feet, still facing the large hologram. “And who are you?” he spat.

“Hahahaaa!” the man in the hologram raised his arms, playing up the showman vibes. “I’m Sorc Tormo, baby! I’m the boss of this operation!” He gestured his arms wide toward the audience, which were protected by laser gates. “You have Greezy Four-Arms to thank for bringing us together.”

The men holding Cal released their grip. His knees felt weak, but he remained standing, looking up at his captor. “I will thank him as soon as I get out of here,” he yelled.

“We have a special challenger for you tonight,” Sorc continued to the audience. “An enforcer from a bygone era. A jedi!” His arms were raised once more as the crowd went crazy. “Let’s see what he’s got!”

Cal’s wrists were released from their bindings. The two masked guards skulked away, leaving Cal standing in the arena alone. The noise was deafening and he had to squint in the bright lights. He was in big, big trouble.

“Oh, somebody get baby his toy.” Cal knew what that meant, and raised his arm. Sure enough, his saber was thrown into his midst. He called it to him with the force, gaining strength from holding it once more. BD squealed with joy.

“You want a show?” Cal growled as he pushed away his doubts. “I’ll give you a show.”

A large door opened to his left. A large three-eyed creature, one Cal had encountered already back on Bogano, lumbered toward him. This creature had obviously been starved, and was making its move toward Cal. He dodged a few strikes, but the creature caught his arm. Teeth found flesh, and Cal cried out in pain. He brought his other arm around and ran his blade through the creature’s throat.

“I smell blood and MONEYYY” Sorc Tormo’s voice bounced off the walls. “Tonight we celebrate those fallen challengers of the past and the great sacrifice they’ve made… to make us all... RICH.”

Cal ignored him and focused on the creatures that were spilling from new corridors around the arena. Some nasty bugs were closing in on him, and he sliced them with ease. His fatigue was nagging at the back of his consciousness, but adrenaline intervened and kept him alert. His injured arm was now soaked with blood and sweat.

A large behemoth of a creature charged from the rear of the arena. Cal dodged and hid behind one of the few raised platforms on the floor. His ears were ringing and he was panting hard, his chest on fire. BD whirred behind him, encouraging him to keep going. He jumped to the top of the platform before diving at the creature with a deadly blow. Creature after creature was sent at him and he ended them all, though it felt almost too easy.

Cal stood in the center of the ring, his chest heaving. He still hadn’t figured out how he was going to actually get out of this mess, and he was losing energy fast. His stomach twisted and growled in protest.

“The best is yet to come,” Sorc Tormo sang. “I believe you know our next challengers… the Haxion Brood is gunning for ya!”

The bounty hunter that had taken him down on Zeffo flew into the ring via jet pack. Cal furrowed his brow, anger pulsing. He motioned to BD for a stim vial, hoping the boost would give him what he needed to stay alive and also help the bleeding.

The hunter released his flamethrower toward Cal. He dodged as best he could, but still felt a slight singe on his skin. “Why you running?” the man howled, followed by a laugh. “How do you like this?” Cal turned just in time to see a rocket launcher pointed at him. He dove out of the way, the blast hitting the ground near him. He flew several feet and landed on the hard ground, the wind knocked out of him.

The world was spinning again. I can’t do this, Cal thought helplessly. He rolled over and began to vomit up bile, the only thing left in his stomach. BD watched helplessly as Cal’s face lost most of its color. He was on his knees, looking up at his enemy.

The huntsman was approaching, blaster raised. Cal feebly raised his saber and deflected the first shot, and the second, but the third managed to strike his thigh.

“AUGH,” Cal cried out and rolled backward, as far away as he could manage to get. He shakily got to his feet, then lunged at the attacker, fire in his eyes. He managed to slice the man’s jet pack on one side, sending him flying into the side of the wall. He landed in an unmoving heap.

Cal fell to his knees, deaf to the arena’s raucous chants and jeers. His hands were shaking, still holding up his lightsaber in defence. He waited, but Sorc Tormo seemed distracted.

“What do you mean INCOMING?”

A loud crash took over the crowd’s cheers. Spectators began running and screaming as a familiar ship touched down near Cal.

“It’s the Mantis!” Sorc shrieked. “BLAST IT!”

Cal stumbled, catching himself hard on one knee, before scrambling to the now waiting Mantis. Cere stood at the doorway, waiting for him, blaster in hand. He breathlessly climbed the ramp and collapsed just inside the door. “I will chase you across the galaxy if I have to!” was the last thing Cal heard before closing his eyes.

Cere and Greez maneuvered the ship out of the system and well out of harm’s way. Cere was furious at Greez and the danger he had put Cal in. Greez refused to make eye contact with her. Once the ship was steady, Cere went to check on the young Jedi.

Cal was out cold, his droid by his side. Cere knew he’d been through hell, and hoped it wouldn’t prove to be a huge setback for the mission. Cal had been missing for almost a full rotation. It was enough time for Cere to sincerely worry that they’d never see him again.

Cal stirred slightly, a small moan escaping his lips. He looked up at Cere with a pained expression. “Sorry, I uhh…”

Cere smiled at him. “No, it’s okay. I’m glad we found you. Can you stand?”

Cal nodded and sat up. Cere held one of his arms and steadied him. “You need rest. I…”

“No,” Cal cut her off. He pulled his arm away and slowly made his way to the front of the ship toward Greez. Cere knew that Cal felt betrayed, and she didn’t blame him one bit.

“Hey Greez,” Cal croaked. “You’re famous down there.”

Greez stiffened and turned to Cal. “Yeah they’re and… ugly group huh?” he stammered. “They smell like used droid oil heh heh… at least you’re okay.”

Cal didn’t respond. He looked to Cere standing in the doorway, who responded for him. “A complication we could have avoided,” she replied slowly.

Cal ignored both of them and carefully found his way to the couch. He pulled at his now-torn poncho until a strip long and wide enough was in his hand. He began binding his injured arm.

[elo-kodon]

Untitled Iwaoi Short Story #1

(Part 1 here)                             

                                                        PART 2

           “That was such a great dinner, Auntie! I’m completely stuffed, right Iwa-chan?” Oikawa exclaims happily, his voice carrying through the small house in bright, musical tones.

           Iwaizumi receives a short but painful jab to his side with Oikawa’s elbow. The movement almost makes him drop the dinner plate he’s scrubbing into the soapy water. He gives Oikawa a short, annoyed look before responding. “Yes, thanks so much!” he calls out hurriedly.

           “Ohh it was no trouble at all boys,” Oikawa’s aunt says, gracefully gliding down the stairs in her long, summery-red pleated skirt.

           Once Iwaizumi had met Oikawa’s aunt, her sophisticated and bubbly personality was one of the first things he noticed about her. She gave the boys a warm hug, welcomed them in, and immediately turned to Iwaizumi. “Now Iwaizumi dear, let’s do away with the formalities for now. Why don’t you just call me Hisako? Goodness knows all my colleagues already do.” Hisako waved her left hand air in a quick flourish and lead the boys into her house. She showed Oikawa and Iwaizumi to their room upstairs. “I’ll leave you two to unpack for a while. I’ve got to head back downstairs to finish up dinner. Feel free to join me whenever you boys are ready to eat!”

           “She’s great, isn’t she?” Oikawa threw his duffel bag onto the ground, turning back to Iwaizumi proudly, “Mom says she’s a spitfire, but I like her a lot! She’s always been there for me, ya know?”

           Iwaizumi considers Oikawa’s past words as he continues to work on the last of the dinner plates. It’s no surprise that Oikawa would like her. Hisako had a lot of qualities that reminded him of his best friend. Their determined attitudes and boundless energy were practically the same. No wonder Oikawa was so excited to make the trip up here.

           Hisako calls out from the other room. “If you two are about done with the dishes, would you mind meeting me in the living room in a bit? I’d love to show you a few of my designs for the show on Sunday. Tooru, you also need to hear the rundown of the itinerary so you know what to expect.”

           Once the boys get done cleaning up, they join Hisako on her pink and blue floral patterned couch. It’s a cozy fit with all three of them, Hisako on the far left, Iwaizumi on the far right, and Oikawa snugly in the middle.

           Tucking a loose strand her wavy black hair behind her ear, Hisako reaches down to the side of the couch, picks up a thick shiny black binder and hands it to Oikawa to open. He carefully takes the huge binder from her and opens to one of the first tabbed pages.

           “So for this particular show, since it’s still only my second one, I really wanted to focus on kids’ streetwear. I’ve noticed that a lot of students like to have clothing that’s still modern and practical, but also wear things that fit to their own unique sense of style…”

           They spend the next half hour pouring through the thick and colorful pages of Hisako’s designs. Oikawa listens with keen interest as his aunt talks to them about her ideas and underlying concepts with model’s outfit. It seems like with each particular outfit and pattern, Hisako has a wonderful remark or funny story to recount on each model.

           “You see now why I wanted you to join me on this project Oikawa? I really need students with strong personalities, since the show’s main concept is based around stories of youth. So, this is where you come in…”

            Oikawa lounges back while he listens to his aunt talk about what she has planned for his design. He loves hearing about Hisako’s stories and inspiration behind everything, but he can’t help but wonder if Iwaizumi is starting to feel a little left out. Carefully, out of the corner of his eye, he slowly and surreptitiously directs his gaze to Iwaizumi. With Hisako’s voice still in the background, he puts his hearing on autopilot for a few moments while he stares at his best friend.

           Iwaizumi has his knees brought up to his chest, his hands wrapped around them as he gazes down at the sketch of Oikawa’s proposed design for the show. Oikawa’s breath hitches softly as he scans Iwaizumi’s face. There’s a fondness to the boy’s dark eyes, his lips are slightly pursed. It reminds Oikawa of how Iwaizumi used to look at him when they were children. But there’s also something else to it… With a confused realization, it dawns on him. Iwaizumi looks like he’s concentrating on something. Like he’s drinking in the design on Hisako’s drawing, trying to memorize the curve of each pencil marking, of each splotch of color on the roughly sketched pattern. Iwaizumi’s left hand reaches down to feel the small piece of fabric stapled onto the bottom right corner of the page. Oikawa catches his eye once Iwaizumi turns to pretend to look at Hisako.

           Iwaizumi locks the back of his jaw once he realizes Oikawa’s caught him staring. The pair lock eyes for a second. The light brown irises of Oikawa fixate on his own, like a curious tiger pup. Iwaizumi ducks his head down towards his lap, knowing that the heat traveling up his neck and onto his cheeks are definitely noticeable. “Stupid idiot…” he thinks.

           Goosebumps appear on Oikawa arms as he slowly averts his eyes. “Weird…Why did Hajime blush just now?”

           Guess he’d have to tackle that question later.

———————————————————————————————————

                                                       *Saturday*

           “Here you go!” Hisako sings out, beaming down at Iwaizumi and Oikawa, setting down a plate of pancakes and two tall glasses of strawberry-and-kewi smoothies in front of them. “Now, Tooru, dear, just so you know, I’m gonna be out at the office in town for the majority of this afternoon and the evening, so you’ll have to be in charge of making sure this young man,” she gestures to Iwaizumi, “gets fed a good dinner, okay? There’s a nice little market about a few miles still outside of town that you two can drive over to pick up whatever you’d like. I’d make dinner for you both but I need to stay late at the studio tonight so we can finish paperwork and make any last minute adjustments before the show tomorrow.”

           Oikawa nods eagerly and salutes his aunt, “Of course Auntie, you can count on me! Can’t wait to see my outfit in person tomorrow, I bet it’ll make all the girls swoon!”

           Hisako lets out a sparkling laugh, “Oh, I’m sure, Tooru.” She puts her breakfast dish in the sink, walking over to the front door to grab her sweater and her large canvas bag. “Hope you two have fun hanging out today! There’s a great beach nearby that you boys should go to if you have the time. I’ve got to run, take care now!” Iwaizumi and Oikawa hear the final few clacks of her shoes as she shuts the screen door behind her and walks down the steps of the front porch towards her car. They hear her engine start and then she’s off.

           “God, you really are a putz” mutters Iwaizumi, lightly smacking the back of Tooru’s head.

           “Not my fault you don’t know how to talk to women, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says as he attempts to dodge Iwazumi, but ultimately failing.

           Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and gets up from his chair. He didn’t feel like bickering with Oikawa today. He was in too good of a mood, plus he really wanted to go somewhere with Oikawa to play volleyball anyways.

           “Sooooo Iwa-channn what’s on the agenda for today?” Oikawa asks. He stands up from his chair and stretches out his tall torso, his arms almost touching the bottom of the fan in the kitchen.

           “Wanna do a practice match somewhere?”

           “Hmmm. Yes, but I also wanted to check out that beach Auntie mentioned. Not like we really have a beach back home.”

           “Why don’t we do both? We can set up a court once we find a good spot.” Iwaizumi suggested.

           “Ohhh a beach match? You’re on, mothman.”

           Iwaizumi lets out a small, soft “Dumbass” under his breath, then quickly runs up the stairs to grab their duffels, Oikawa slowly following up after him.

———————————————————————————————————-

           Oikawa’s high-pitched falsetto voice pierces Iwaizumi’s ears while he tries to keep concentrating on the winding road in front of him. He sings out another lyric of the weird country song that they happened to discover on the local radio a few minutes ago.

           “Joooooooooooleeeenne, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Puh-LEASE don’t take my maaannn. Even though you totally caaannn-“ Oikawa drawls out in a feminine, old-lady voice, intentionally fucking up the lyrics.

           Iwaizumi lets out another round of loud barking laughter. He forgot how genuinely funny Oikawa can be once he lets his guard down. But that usually only happens when it’s just the two of them together. He scrunches up his eyes, tears of laughter pricking at the outer edges of his eyelids. He’s laughing and smiling so much that his jaw is starting to get sore. “S-stop it you bastard, you’re gonna make me crash this damn car.”

           Oikawa grins over at Iwaizumi, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He turns back forward and smiles quickly to himself. He absolutely loves Iwaizumi’s laugh. The sound never gets old. “Damn, what a stupid song. Who the fuck is Jolene??”

           “I don’t-“ Iwaizumi tries to respond but is stopped by another round of laughter. “I don’t know man, but she’s got some issues apparently. I feel kind of bad for her, honestly.”

           “Eh, not bad enough,” Oikawa grins. “Since when does Japan have American country stations? Is this a new fad or some shit?”

           “I have no idea.”

           “Oh, Iwa-chan, there’s the turn up ahead!” Oikawa says hurriedly, leaning forward in his seat.

           Iwaizumi turns off the main route onto another small, dusty dirt road. As they make a couple more turns, the truck spits up dust.

           “Oh wow, is this sand?” Oikawa tries to squint through the yellowish haze.

           “I guess so. We must be close.”

           They head around a row of trees and then make one final turn. Iwaizumi parks in one of the faded parking spots, then kills the engine. It doesn’t take too long to unpack the bed of the truck. With both duffel bags slung around Iwaizumi and Oikawa carrying the net bag, they walk down a sandy path to the beach below.

           They find a good, flat area of sand and throw down their bags. Iwaizumi sets up the volleyball net while Oikawa takes off his flip flops. He unpacks the volleyballs, water bottles, and snacks.

           “Hey, ‘kawa, the net’s done.”

           “Lit.”

           Iwaizumi throws the net bag down near the duffels and Oikawa takes a couple minutes to mark the edges of each side of the court using a stick. He squints at the line on each side, then runs over to the other side to check the dimensions.

           “It’s fine, Oikawa. Let’s play already.” Iwaizumi drawls.

           “Fine, fine.” Oikawa takes his sunglasses off and perches them neatly in his hair. He picks a light blue volleyball up from the ground and walks onto his side of the court. Iwaizumi’s already on his side, hands on his knees, ready for Oikawa to start. Using only one hand, Oikawa swiftly throws the ball high up in the air. “You know I’m totally gonna win this match, right?”

           Iwaizumi snorts and smirks at Oikawa through the holes of the net. “Not on your life, pretty boy.”

———————————————————————————————————-

           Soaring through the air over the net, the small blue volleyball heads toward Iwaizumi’s side of the court. With the quickness of a puma and the grace of a warrior, the spiky-haired male crouches down and receives the ball. The volleyball bounces back upwards, over Iwaizumi’s head and the boy looks up. He ends up timing the comedown of the ball perfectly, executing a three step approach. Calf muscles tensing, Iwaizumi swings his arms back and jumps up in the air. With a look of fierceness set in his face, eyes gleaming, his right arm whips forward and sends the ball flying straight down towards Oikawa’s side.

           Oikawa dives forward and manages to keep the ball up, but only enough to the point where it flys forward underneath the net. His sunglasses fall down crookedly onto the bridge of his nose. He groans. He almost got a mouthful of sand from this last one.

           Iwaizumi lets out a snicker, “What was that about beating me again?” He grins, watching Oikawa pick his lanky frame up off the sand.

           Dammit. Oikawa was sure his past spike wouldn’t turn into a chance ball, but somehow Iwaizumi managed to receive and turn it into a downward attack. He watches Iwaizumi take off his shirt through the lenses of his sunglasses. Iwaizumi grabs his water bottle and takes a long drink of water, his other hand resting on his hip.

           What a cocky bastard. Oikawa mentally convinces himself that he’s not taking this moment to run his eyes down the frame of Iwaizumi’s body. Nope. Definitely not taking in his wonderful, tan shoulders, and his stocky biceps, and of course that stupid lovely six pack- Wait what the hell? When did Iwa-chan get so buff??  Has he been doing extra strength training on the side or something?

           “Ready to get your ass whooped again, Shittykawa?” calls out Iwaizumi.

           Oikawa dusts the sand off his knees, sweat dripping down his bangs into his face. He takes a few ragged breaths. “You fuckin wish, biiiitttcchh.”

           Iwaizumi is about to make a retort when he notices Oikawa’s fast panting, his chest heaving in and out to try and steady his breathing back to normal. His hair is drenched, his shirt covered in sweat. Oikawa glances down worriedly at the wrap on his knee, reminding Iwaizumi of his past injury. He hastily looks at his watch.

           “On second thought, you look pretty tired, Tooru. It’s getting close to dinnertime anyways. Let’s call it a match and pack up, yeah?”

           Oikawa lets out an annoyed huff but then concedes.

———————————————————————————————————–

           They arrive back home, laughing about another funny joke Oikawa said when they were on the road. Iwaizumi and Oikawa tramp up the porch steps and through the screen door, both letting out relaxed sighs when the air conditioning hits them. They head towards the kitchen counter. Iwaizumi turns around and tosses his water bottle quickly to Oikawa, Oikawa wordlessly catching it in his hand.

           “Take this back up to the room, then we can go to the market and get some food. I’ll make dinner tonight if you want.”

           “Uh…sure Iwa-chan.” He replies, hurrying up the stairs in a daze.

           He sets both he and Iwaizumi’s water bottles on top of the dresser in their room. He takes a minute for himself, grabbing a towel and running it through his locks of hair to get the sweat out. He’s about to head out of the room when his eyes naturally find their gaze to the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. He walks closer to his reflection, placing the towel around his neck.

           Oikawa inspects his appearance in the mirror. Eyebrows knitted together, he turns his face to either side, looking at his cheekbones. His wide, almond shaped brown eyes. His thin lips, still nicely rounded out for a guy’s mouth. He had okay teeth, straight and not too big.

           “Iwa-chan’s still prettier though,” he thought.

           He shakes his head, trying to regain focus. Bounding down the stairs to meet Iwaizumi, he realizes he left his flips flops somewhere in the living room.

           “Almost done Oikawa? I’m starving, we should head out now.” Iwaizumi calls from the kitchen.

           “One second!” Oikawa answers. He’s slipping his toes through his sandals he found underneath the coffee table when something black and shiny catches his eye. “Auntie’s binder?”

           He reaches over and slowly slides the binder towards him. He opens to a random tab and somehow manages to get to the exact design that’s supposed to be what he’s wearing for the show tomorrow. Running his fingertips over the drawing of his figure, it finally dawns on him. His eyes widen and snap up from the book. “I’ve figured it out! I know what I need to do!”

           “Seriously Shittykawa let’s-,” Iwaizumi walks over and stops to see Oikawa staring at the designs, “go…”

           Oikawa quickly looks up at him from his sitting position on the floor. “Oh Iwa-chan, uh-“ Iwaizumi notices his eyes flit away from him for a couple of seconds. It looks like he’s trying to come up with something to say. “Right, about dinner…uh, could you go on without me? I uh, have a stomach ache. I’ll just stay here. Pick out whatever, okay?”

           His wide orbs stare up at him nervously and Iwaizumi knows he made that last part up. “Sure….if that’s what you want…” he narrows his eyes at Oikawa. He just knows the little shit’s up to something.

           “It is, now please goooo Iwa-chaaann. Out, out, out!” Oikawa pushes him happily out the door, tossing his truck keys to him.

           When Iwaizumi’s finally gone, Oikawa sighs heavily and looks up at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was already 5pm. He does some quick math in his head, trying to see if he has enough time to leave and come back before Iwaizumi gets back home. It would probably take Iwaizumi about 20 minutes or so to get to the market Hisako had told them about.

           “There’s no way I can make it all the way into town and back without the chance of Iwa-chan knowing I was gone. Hm. Unless….yes of course! I’ll use that shortcut!”

           He grabs the house keys, changes into his running shoes, and sprints out the door. Instead of running alongside the road all the way into town like he usually would, he hops a small fence and takes a shortcut through the neighbor’s small forest. He ends up running through a wide barley field, the sun beating down on him in waves and his body starting to get sweaty all over again. The leaves of the plants in the field scrape against his calves but Tooru pays it no mind. He makes his way down to a large road on the corner of town. Once he crosses one of the main roads, he’s able to slip behind the main buildings and into a suburb which he knows will lead him to where he needs to be.

           He passes the last house in the long, narrow neighborhood street and makes another turn, leading to a small set of offices. He runs through the bronze double doors and takes the elevator up to the fifth floor, leaning back against the wall of the elevator to finally catch his breath. The door opens to a bright white hallway, giant black and white photos of models striking dramatic poses in different outfits line the walls. He gets to the end of the hallway and fast-walks into his aunt’s studio space. He scans the area and spots Hisako standing near her desk with two colleagues, leaning down and pointing to a areas on a printed photo with her pen.

           “Oh, Oikawa dear, I’m quite surprised to see you here. Where’s your friend, Hajime?” she asks curiously.

           Oikawa takes a deep breath, wringing his hands in front of him. “Yeah, about Iwa-chan… Auntie, I need you to help me out with a huge favor.”

———————————————————————————————————-

A/N: wooww wonder what happens next?? Yeah I meant to post this way earlier today since I was hella excited about it and I had already typed out the outline for this part but it ended up being pretty long lol. Anyways, thanks for reading, if you like the story so far let me know by liking and commenting on it! I’d love to hear what you think! Also stay tuned for Part 3 where we finally get to the day of the fashion show! 

Also if anyone knows how to get a quick AO3 invite/account set up, let me know. I’d love to be able to post this to that site as well. Thanks so much for all your likes and support for my first ever haikyuu fic!

-Elo

[mitchsenweek]

MITCHSEN WEEK

DAY FOUR - MUTUAL PINING

Hello team! I hope you’re all enjoying mitchsen week.

Reminder that if you’re publishing anything of any kind to let me know - the tag is basically me and @imnotasuperhero and I keep refreshing it in case I find someone else there.

Day four fic below the cut!

Aubrey Posen was sitting at her desk stewing over the events of rehearsals that afternoon. She couldn’t pinpoint what was going on, but that little freshman with the piercings really bothered her. She had a bad attitude and she looked nothing like a Bella should. She knew it would be stupid to admit her but Chloe had talked her into it. Now, in one afternoon, she’d been proven right.

It still didn’t explain why she was sitting here obsessing about it hours later. She was roused from her funk by a knock at the door. Opening it, she was shocked to see the freshman in question standing there, looking hopeful. She didn’t let her guard down, just stared at the girl.

“Can we talk?” Beca said. “I kind of want to apologise.” Aubrey opened the door wordlessly and Beca entered nervously.

“Um,” she said, settling against the edge of Chloe’s desk. “I know I went off on you today, and I’m sorry for that. I can be very defensive... without going too far into the backstory it’s pretty much how I handle most confrontation. But it wasn’t cool, so I apologise.”

“Apology accepted,” Aubrey said. Beca wasn’t done though.

“But I want to make it clear, that regardless of what I said, you made a couple of snap judgments on me, none of which were correct,” she said. “And you don’t know me, you’ve barely spoken twenty words to me. I feel like that was unfair, especially since you’re in a position of leadership in that group. Whatever you say about me in that setting can seriously damage not only my reputation, but group cohesion, and that’s not what the Bellas need.” Aubrey was flabbergasted. Nobody had stood up to her before like this. Because she was right, essentially. But most people just apologised and bailed, but Beca was still there awaiting - an apology of her own?

“That’s true,” Aubrey said. “I’m sorry. I guess I can get a little single minded. I’ll make it clear that what I said about you was unfounded, I promise.”

“And finally, I want to assure you that the whole Treble thing is not going to be an issue,” Beca said. “I work with Jesse at the radio station but we are not ever going to be anything more than friends.”

“How can you guarantee that?” Aubrey asked. “He looks at you like he wants more.”

“Yeah well I’m like, ridiculously gay, so that’s never gonna happen,” Beca said dryly. There was a pronounced silence. “So can we start again?”

“Sure,” Aubrey said. “Let’s start again.”

“Great,” Beca said with a smile. “I’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow then.” She headed out and left Aubrey sitting where she was. About thirty seconds after the door closed it hit her like a ton of bricks.

“No,” she whispered. “I can’t... have a crush on her?”

Beca was walking back across campus, her hands shaking slightly. She wasn’t very good at conversations like the one she’d just had, but it was important to her that she set things right with Aubrey.

In reality, she’d barely stopped thinking about the senior since she first encountered her. And she knew she had a tendency to prickly and defensive, so when it became clear that she and Aubrey were at loggerheads, she knew she had to do something. Because she didn’t want to fight with someone who made her insides swoop like Aubrey did. She didn’t want to grow to resent the other girl, not when she kind of spent a lot of time daydreaming about her.

So she sucked up all her courage and pride and apologised. It at least seemed to have gone well, which was a good sign. Now to work on reigning in her temper and holding her tongue. She smiled to herself as she recalled what Aubrey’s face had looked like when she’d casually tossed out that she was gay. She’d been surprised, and just a little bit curious. Beca hoped that meant Aubrey might actually be into girls, or she was about to spend the year crushing hard on a straight girl.

Aubrey was at her desk on her laptop. She felt like an absolute creep, but she was scrolling through Beca’s facebook and trying to learn whatever she could about her. She skimmed the basics - a couple years younger than she was but not problematically young, had come to Atlanta via the Pacific Northwest. There was nothing telltale in her history at all, so hoping even just for a tiny bit of background, she clicked on Beca’s high school page to see if she was mentioned. Feeling a tiny bit guilty, she moved over to her bed. If Chloe was to walk in she could see anything on Aubrey’s laptop if she were at her desk, but here it would only be her. She put Beca’s name in the search bar.

“Wow,” was the first thing out of Aubrey’s mouth. Beca was mentioned on her high school’s facebook page a lot. Like, a lot. Winner of Pacific Northwest Region songwriter’s competition. Winner of Oregon State Arts scholarship, three years running. Winner, Young Composers Award Cornish College of the Arts, Carnegie Mellon Music Award Finalist, Philadelphia University of the Arts - Highly Commended in summer session. There was a stream of news articles about any one of a million music awards the girl had won during high school, junior high.

Now she felt bad for discounting everything she said out of turn during rehearsal. She clearly knew what she was talking about. Closing her laptop and pulling out her acapella binder, she looked to see if Beca had filled in the space to mention her major or if she was undeclared. Nope, she’d declared. Music Theory & Comp, plus a second major in Production & Engineering. Impressive, was the first thought Aubrey had.

Chloe came in at that exact moment, so she casually closed up her laptop and set it aside.

“Hey,” her roommate said. “Beca find you? She was looking for you earlier.”

“Yeah, she was here,” Aubrey said. “She apologised for going off during rehearsal. And then I apologised to her for making assumptions and dragging her in front of you guys.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Aubrey said. “She made valid points. Plus she also said that she and the treble are never getting together ever in a million years.”

“Well, duh,” Chloe said. “She’s gay.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“No, but she didn’t need to,” Chloe said. “She’s gay, so is Cynthia Rose and Stacie is definitely not straight.”

“You sure about that last one?”

“Uh, considering I made out with her over the weekend, yeah, I am.”

“Oh, are you two together?”

“No,” Chloe said. “One time thing. She’s cute, but she’s not interested in a serious thing and neither am I. It won’t make anything weird at Bellas, promise.”

“And you can just tell that the others are gay?”

“Same as I could with you,” Chloe said. “I’m not about to start waving rainbow flags around the group and announcing other people’s business, mind you. Stacie won’t care, she’s pretty much uninhibited in every sense of the word.”

“Yeah she strikes me as such,” Aubrey said. Chloe was right though. Nothing remotely changed between the girls during rehearsals. She watched them, looking for a sign, but there were none. She hoped the crush she had on Beca was equally as unobvious. She decided that the easiest way to make sure nobody was clued in to the way she felt about Beca was to avoid looking at her unless necessary.

It worked okay for a while. But as Aubrey learned more about Beca’s musical capabilities and how she could help the Bellas, they began to spend more time together. They worked on arrangements and talked about music, and Aubrey knew she was going to slip up one day soon. She was enamoured, plain and simple, but she didn’t see what she could possibly offer Beca, so she kept it to herself, except for when she vented it to Chloe. Which was often. Chloe tried her hardest to convince Aubrey to take a chance, but Aubrey couldn’t hear it.

Beca was trying just as hard as Aubrey to mask her feelings, and she was just as sure that she wasn’t going to keep it up for much longer. Aubrey was beautiful, and she was smart, and passionate. Yeah she was definitely bossy, but Beca kind of liked that too. She liked everything about her, to be honest, and she was not good at hiding it, which she discovered when she was busted staring at Aubrey during rehearsal by Stacie.

“Dude are you staring at Aubrey?” Stacie asked. “Like are you into her?”

“Of course I’m staring at her,” Beca said, after conceding that she couldn’t really deny the obvious. “Let’s just tally this shit up. First off, she’s gorgeous. Like get the fuck out of here with your face gorgeous. Second, she’s hella smart. She’s ambitious and she’s got a nice voice, she’s funny, confident... but she is like about ten leagues above me. So yes I’m staring but I’m okay knowing it’s not going any further than that. I’m nothing if not a realist.”

“Aw, don’t sell yourself short,” Stacie said. “Is she even gay though?”

“Don’t actually know,” Beca said with a shrug. She stopped listening to Stacie’s badgering after that. She was too busy watching Aubrey.

She knew she was in a world of trouble with this crush. Even the scent of Aubrey’s perfume was enough to send her head spinning. She wanted to know what it would be like to lean in close to her, breathe that smell in as she kissed her. She almost snorted as she registered her own creepiness.

“You okay?” Aubrey asked her. Beca feigned ignorance so she wouldn’t have to explain.

“Fine,” she said. “I should be able to get the next bit of the arrangement down in about ten minutes.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Aubrey said. “Stacie, can you come give Chloe a hand with choreo?” The freshman got up and made her way down to where Chloe was at the front of the room, leaving Beca sitting on her own.

Aubrey couldn’t help but watch Beca as she worked. She’d said she leave Beca to it, but she wasn’t able to tear her eyes away. There was something about the confidence of her right now, the way she knew absolutely what she was doing. She’d never seen anyone write on music charts the way Beca was doing, laying line after line on the page and barely ever going back to question what she’d done.

Plus she had this habit of poking her tongue out just a touch through her lips. It was cute. Beca was cute. She couldn’t believe she’d almost destroyed any chance of even a friendship with the girl the first practice they’d had. Thank god Beca had enough balls to stand up to her and they were able to start again.

Now the girl was writing mind-blowing vocal arrangements and dropping by her dorm to kick ideas around every other day. They were friends, but Aubrey kept feeling this tugging low in her gut telling her that she wanted more. She knew she was crushing hard, but she needed to ignore it.

“Dude, stare harder,” came a voice.

“Sorry?” Aubrey directed to Cynthia Rose.

“You’ve got the smitten face,” she said with a smug expression. Aubrey blushed a little. “Look I get it. Little B is an interesting character and whilst she isn’t exactly my type she definitely qualifies as a total hottie.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aubrey said dismissively, but the red of her cheeks betrayed her.

“Sure you don’t,” Cynthia Rose said. “Whatever. Your secret is safe with me. But for whatever it counts, you two would actually make a hot couple. If either of you sacked up enough to make the first move, that is.”

Aubrey just shook her head dismissively. Cynthia Rose wasn’t one to pry, so it wasn’t brought up again. Until she was back in the safety of her room, with only Chloe there to hear as her reliable safety net.

Chloe didn’t mind hearing Aubrey go on about Beca. It was actually kind of adorable, she thought. Aubrey wasn’t the type to get all soft and swoony over anyone or anything, but she was so far gone for Beca it was crazy. So her only real problem with the entire situation was that despite her very earnest suggestion that she do something, say something, Aubrey kept saying no. That Beca wouldn’t be interested in a girl like her. It was maddening.

Beca was less restrained about her crush on Aubrey as time went on. She only really spoke openly about it with Stacie, normally at Stacie’s encouragement, but all of the Bellas could tell Beca was into Aubrey. She had absolutely no poker face so whenever they were in the same room as each other, Beca’s feeling were written all over her face. Aubrey flustered her with even the slightest of glances, and if the captain gave her some kind of praise or compliment during rehearsal she got so goofy and happy that it was visible on her face for hours.

When Stacie told her over and over that she should go for it with Aubrey, Beca would always counter that she wasn’t the kind of girl who ended up with someone as amazing as Aubrey. Stacie told her she was being ridiculous, naturally, but Beca was never going to take that step. So Stacie decided that she and Chloe should do something about it.

“I’m going to ask you something point blank here,” Stacie said. “And I know it might be breaking the best friend code on both our parts to be having this discussion but I think it’s important.”

“Oh this sounds interesting.”

“Now I only have suspicions, because Aubrey is pretty secretive, but am I going mental or does she have a massive crush on Beca?” Chloe looked surprised.

“Um....”

“Chlo.”

“Yeah, she does,” Chloe admitted. “Huge. Aubrey doesn’t do crushes. She’s head over heels, though.”

“Okay, good,” Stacie said. “Because it’s all too obvious that Beca is ridiculously into Aubrey. She’s not very good at hiding it and the only drama is that she is extremely gun shy about making a move.”

“Bree, too,” Chloe said. “So what do we do?”

“Leave that to me,” Stacie said. “Tell her the four of us are having lunch Saturday. Let’s meet here. I’ll take care of it.”

Chloe managed to convince Aubrey to come out with the girls for lunch by the weekend, so the two of them headed to meet Stacie and Beca at the Bellas auditorium.

“So where’s lunch?” Beca asked from her seat in the front row.

“We’re not going,” Chloe said.

“What do you mean?” Aubrey asked. “Isn’t that the whole reason we’re here?”

“Sit down,” Chloe said, gesturing to a seat near Beca. Confused, Aubrey sat, whilst Stacie got up and confronted the two of them.

“Okay,” Stacie said. “This thing between you two has gotten beyond a joke. All Beca can talk about is how amazing you are, Aubrey. How smart and beautiful and all of those nauseating things that a girl with a full blown crush notices. And Chloe here tells me that all she hears about on the regular is how unbelievably smitten Aubrey is for you, Beca. You’re so talented and confident and gorgeous and so on. So now that I’ve sufficiently embarrassed you both, Chloe and I are leaving so you two can do something about the super dramatic mutual pining.”

The two of them sat side by side with scarlet faces for an awkwardly long time. In the end Aubrey decided she was going to have to go first.

“So what Stacie said about me is true,” she said. “About how I feel. I’m kind of very into you.”

“Huh,” Beca said. “And it’s not exactly low key that I’m super into you. I think everybody can tell.”

“So... if our friends are shoving us toward this point,” Aubrey said, “maybe we could like, go on a date?”

“Before you suggest that though,” Beca said, her face going scarlet all over again, “it’s only fair that you should know I’ve not done this much. The dating thing. I’ve only had one girlfriend before.”

“I’ve never had a girlfriend,” Aubrey said. “One boyfriend. So inexperience isn’t just on your side. But even if it wasn’t, I’d still want to go out with you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you came to my room and apologised after the first practice.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since then, either,” Beca said. “So yes. Please. Let’s go out.”

“Now? I mean, we did have lunch plans and they just left, so we may as well.”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “Um, I know a decent place if you’re okay with me driving?”

“Lead the way,” Aubrey said. Beca navigated them both toward her car and opened Aubrey’s door for her. They sat in silence for a few moments during the trip until Beca thought to put the radio on, the both of them singing along for a few songs.

“You have such a gorgeous voice,” Aubrey couldn’t help but saying.

“Thanks. Yours is nice too,” Beca said.

“I’m flattered that you would call mine nice, but honestly, my brain sometimes stops when I listen to you,” Aubrey rambled. That compliment brought a blush to Beca’s cheeks.

Beca ended up taking Aubrey to a simple sort of restaurant, nothing super weird or adventurous on the menu and it wasn’t too romantic for a first date.

“Hope this place is okay,” Beca said after they’d ordered. “It feels kind of coupley but not like overly so?”

“It’s fine,” Aubrey said. The two of them slipped into talking while they waited for their meals, and they admitted to each other just how far their crushes went. It was a relief to both of them that they seemed to be on the same page, but they also lamented that they hadn’t done anything sooner.

Once the food was gone and the bill had been delivered, Beca reached out for the slip.

“You should let me pay,” Aubrey said.

“I’ll get this one, since I picked it,” Beca said. “You can get the next one?”

“There’ll be a next one?” Aubrey said hopefully.

“Lots of them, I hope,” Beca said. “I’d really like that. Dating?”

“So would I,” Aubrey grinned at her and they got up and paid the check before heading outside.

“Wanna walk for a while?” Aubrey said. Beca nodded and slid her hand into Aubrey’s. Their fingers locked, both of them smiling as they strolled along the shopfronts.

It was a nice way to waste a little time. They just walked, and talked a little as they moved. But mostly they were both quietly appreciating the way even just holding hands felt, the racing in their chests every time their eyes caught a little. After a while they figured they should probably head back to campus, so they walked back to the car.

Beca slowed them to a stop right next to Aubrey’s door. She wanted to kiss her, provided Aubrey was okay with that. She looked up at her, almost hopefully, and saw that Aubrey was waiting, it seemed. So she bit her lip for a split second and then moved in to kiss her.

“Ow shit!” Aubrey exclaimed. Beca realised that in her eagerness she’d trodden directly on Aubrey’s mostly bare foot, thanks to the ballet flats she was wearing.

“Shit, sorry,” Beca said. “Real smooth, Mitchell. I’m sorry, Aubrey, truly. I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous?” Aubrey asked, her head tilting slightly. “Why would you be nervous?”

“Because I’ve been thinking about this, about you and me, about this moment for like... months,” Beca shrugged. “And I wanted it to be perfect. But instead I stood on your foot with my heavy ass boots and ruined it.”

Aubrey swooped in and kissed her soundly. Beca’s hands fluttered at her sides for a moment before she came to her senses and slid her arms around Aubrey’s neck. As she breathed in she could smell that perfume that drove her mental on every other day but it was a tiny, inconsequential thought when compared to the very idea that she was kissing Aubrey right now.

She felt hot everywhere. Her face was surely pink and she could feel a heat coursing through her and settling in her stomach. And when Aubrey pulled back she just knew she was smiling ear to ear.

“See? Nothing’s ruined,” Aubrey said. “I’m completely okay, I promise.” They shared a handful of kisses, softer and shorter than the first, but no less euphoria-inducing, before Aubrey was ready for them to head back to campus. Beca got back into the drivers seat and steered them back, Aubrey’s phone chiming just before they got there.

“Everyone’s hanging out to see how this turned out,” Aubrey said. “They’re all waiting in the auditorium.” Beca rolled her eyes.

“As much as I’d love to just not deal with that shit,” Beca said, “they’re going to be torturous whether we deal with it now or tomorrow or some other day. Let’s just do it now. While I’m still riding the high of finally getting to kiss you.” She parked the car and Aubrey was at her door as she got out.

“Hey,” Aubrey said. “That whole high feeling, that happiness at this finally happening?” Beca nodded.

“Not just you,” she continued. “I just want you to remember that. I can’t believe we just went on a date. My brain is melting down as we speak. I’ve wanted this for months, too.” Beca kissed her, soft and easy, letting herself take her time with it.

“Okay then,” she said. “Let’s do this.” Aubrey’s hand immediately found hers. They didn’t have any need to speak while they walked. Beca paused for just a second outside the doors, long enough to take a deep breath. Aubrey squeezed her hand tightly and opened the door. They walked in together, hand in hand.

Immediately their friends began clapping and cheering. Beca was blushing, she could feel it, because it was mortifying that all their friends had been so clued in to the immense crushes that they’d both been sporting. But Aubrey was slightly pink in the cheeks as well.

“So,” Aubrey said, “as you can probably see, Beca and I have decided to do something about the - what did you call it Stacie? Oh yeah, super dramatic mutual pining.”

“Largely that it’s no longer pining,” Beca said. “It’s more like dating. So yeah. Uh, thanks for shoving us toward this point, I guess.”

“And now we’re leaving,” Aubrey said. “Text if there’s dinner plans or something.” Amy wolf whistled at them as they left, neither of them turning back as the doors swung closed.

[grell-writes-stuff]

I finished chapter 28 and I’m posting it here because I did so many bad things

Tag List: @fenfaerie @arieswriting

I spent the week avoiding my phone as much as possible, and immediately deleting any notifications that popped up from that group chat. To keep it all confined to that forbidden, digital space, I tried to distance myself from the guys at school. Kelley had a lot to say about that yesterday.

“Do I have to bribe you into doing stuff?”

“Using what?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far yet. Maybe I just need to start smacking you with a newspaper until you do the thing that I want you to do.”

“You said we’re not hitting people.”

“I said you aren’t hitting people. I have free rein to do whatever is best for your health, and, at this point, I’m thinking of getting a little spray bottle–”

“Seriously?”

“You’re like a misbehaving cat, and I’m training you to stay off the kitchen table.”

She let up when I told her what my plans were for today.

At around six, I receive the “Here” text from Cole as his Cherokee rolls into our driveway behind – avoidance – something that I decide not to think about. Not today. For the sake of getting through this jam session and keeping it a good day, I can’t let myself focus on anything except drumming. That’s it. Nothing else.

That’s also why I slip my headphones in before leaving the house. I don’t have any music playing, but it keeps the ride to West Hills quiet – with the exception of Cole’s screamo. I say a polite “hey” to him and Matt, but that’s about it.

In approximately fifteen minutes, we’re pulling into the Mechis’ driveway next to a sleek, black Lexus that I refuse to look at. I don’t notice it, or the person walking from it to the entrance to the garage. I wedge a broom through the handle, because I refuse to open that door in my mind and let the memory of the screaming match ruin this day. Frankly, I’m determined to block out her shrill voice in whatever way I can. I fight against the ever-present urge to give myself tinnitus.

The three of us get out of Cole’s car, and I hang back for a moment as they grab their guitars. Together, we enter the garage, and I tug out my earbuds.

I swallow back the lump in my throat, but that’s tough when my windpipe is constricted.

It’s such a familiar place. It used to be comforting, but now it feels tainted and hollow. The old, duct-taped couches that are falling apart seem like dusty relics of some long-forgotten past for which I am the sole historian. The boxes of Full Stop. merch lying around feel like clutter now instead of a celebration and achievement, like some ancient memorabilia that no one will ever purchase, not even the most dedicated collectors. The band binder is still just hanging on by a thread, but it feels like it’s already exploded and setlists and notes are paper shrapnel raining down from the sky. My drum kit feels like a foreign technology that I don’t understand. This room is infested with age. It’s an abandoned ghost town, and I feel haunted.

As we enter, Bryson greets me. Cole and Matt say hi back, but I’m still finding it hard to make words, so I just nod and try to put my attention elsewhere. I try to remember the workings of my setup. I’ve been visualizing the placement of cymbals, and toms, and the kickdrum while I’ve been recovering. I know where everything is. I can figure out how I’d once played music on this strange contraption again. Maybe someday it’ll feel the same.

I head to one of the sofas as Matt and Cole go about tuning their instruments.

And I ignore the screeches that she calls vocal warmups. In fact, I do everything within my power to forget her presence all together.

“Okay,” Bryson interrupts after a few minutes have passed. In that time, I’d listened to the twangs of the guitar and bass, and not her shrieks into the microphone. “I guess we can start.”

Since we don’t have a gig lined up, and this is just an unofficial jam session for something like fun, there’s a difference in his tone. It’s not as desperate. That’s probably a good thing. He’s not stressed, and there’s less pressure on us to be perfect. We’ll be far from it. The walking boot on my leg acts as a constant reminder of that fact as I rise and move over to my kit.

“We’ll probably be a bit rusty,” he elaborates. “But everyone just try your best. We don’t have to sound filled-out. Just let us know if you need a break, Scott.” He gestures to my leg, to the boot.

I nod. There was no hope of us sounding full anyway, and I haven’t tried drumming with a cast ever, but I doubt it will help my limb coordination and timing, and it probably won’t feel too great after a while, so I’ll definitely be off. And we’re painfully lacking in guitars, but I force that thought out of my mind.

I don’t purposefully bump into her shoulder as I pass. It’s easier to pretend she’s not there – that she’s not even furniture – rather than acknowledging her as an obstacle.

“All right. So, Scott?” Bryson says to grab my attention. Once I’m sat on my stool behind my setup, I look at him. It’s tough to define what’s in his expression, but his words are rather transparent. I didn’t text him back at all the past few days and he knows that was a deliberate choice. “We all picked songs this week that we want to run today, and, after that, we’ll focus on originals, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Cole wants to run Ocean Avenue – so we’ll start there – and Selena picked Told You So.”

Of course it’s a Paramore song. Of course it is.

“Matt chose You Think You Know It All by Red As Dusk. What’s your pick?”

It takes me a second longer than normal to peruse my mental music library because now it’s shrunk in size, and so many songs have been filed away and are now off-limits. Kelley’s suggestions are background noise as I search the stacks. Purge the excess negative energy. Purge the anger. Hitting my sticks against my drums will help, but only if I can find a way to throw everything that I possibly can into it. It’s a good thing that I’m battling rage because those tracks are the safe ones now, and anything rebellious will do.

“The Anthem – Good Charlotte.”

Bryson gives me a brief nod, but that’s ruined immediately. Every hair on my body seems to rise in defense.

“Um, I don’t know that one!” It’s her sharp voice speaking, and I shove my earplugs in to filter out some of the volume and annoyance. “I would have learned it if you’d picked sooner.”

“Sucks to be you!” It slips out of me, and I realize that means I’ve broken my vow for the day, and now Selena’s materialized in the garage, and my glare lands on her, which she matches with one of her own. In my peripheral, the rest of the guys look like they’re getting ready to break up the resulting physical fistfight that seems to be inevitable.

But that will get me in trouble in some way. I know it for a fact. I’ve already reacted, so retreating is tough, but I grapple for a way to deescalate.

“I’ll fucking sing it then. Why does it even need lyrics anyway? It just needs to be cynical and loud.” My fingers clamp around my sticks, the tools that will help me feel better and prevent me from punching her square in her contoured cheek.

“You just want Vikki to come in here and yell at us again, don’t you?” Bryson asks, deadpan, probably so Selena doesn’t have a chance to retaliate.

“Yes,” says Cole.

“Oh, my God,” he sighs. “Really, Cole?”

“Dude, I can’t be the only one who’s told you that your sister is hot.”

“She’s hot,” Matt agrees.

“See? Verdict’s in: she’s hot.”

“Why am I friends with you?” That knocks the desperation back into his tone, and it almost feels like a normal detour from practicing. Like we have a gig soon, but we’re all screwing around, and Bryson’s the only one with a sense of urgency and deadlines. I almost make myself savour it. “Can we just start the song? Please? Just play the fucking song?”

At that, Cole shrugs slightly, and his gaze sweeps over us to find confirmation. I signal back, my limbs still humming with everything I had to repress a second ago. They’re vibrating with the need to get it out, and I feel ready to drum to release it all before it boils my blood. She injected the steam into my veins and it wants out.

When everyone’s ready, Cole’s guitar plays the chugging, palm-muted intro to Ocean Avenue. Finally, my sticks hit and my foot stomps the kickdrum’s pedal. Matt’s bass fills it out a little bit, but we still sound empty. We’ve played this track before, but it doesn’t sound anything like it used to when it came out of our instruments. Selena’s unstable voice wails without a care, and I try to block it out and focus on my drumming so I don’t sound so off even though I totally am.

My limb coordination is flawed because the boot is throwing off my time-keeping and I haven’t put my formerly-sprained wrist to much work until now. I knew that I wouldn’t be perfect, but it’s bugging me nevertheless. My brain is telling me that it shouldn’t be like this. As a whole, we should sound better. My limbs shouldn’t feel so stiff as if I were a marble statue, as if I’m turning to stone. I hope for a second where I get the chance to shake it off, except–

Except my throat has a tight knot in it, and it hastily, heavily drops down into my chest. It’s so sudden and strange, but I feel something stirring and then curdling within me, rising up and bubbling through every artery before solidifying into a heavy, black mass that weighs down my arms. I remember a moment too late that I should be breathing, and I only accomplish that because I haven’t been taking in air and it already feels like my lungs have been set on fire after being filled with concrete, so it’s tough to shove into my subconscious. My eyes are stinging so bad that I can’t see my sticks where they rest in my shaking hands. The knot launches itself up from my chest and I feel like I have to gag. My pulmonary function fails and I become as empty as the music that falls silent.

Not all at once. It dies off in pieces, but I stop first, right at the start of the chorus. Then, everyone else cuts off too. The sticks slip through my loose fingers, but I barely hear them hit the hard floor with a soft clatter because a song is echoing in my mind now, and it’s not Ocean Avenue.

But it’s close. Too close. Ahead of me, I see blurs.

But also, an endless horizon of blue.

“Scott?”

Bryson’s voice penetrates my earplugs, but it still sounds twenty-thousand feet away from me. My mouth feels like it’s been filled with sand, and my stomach hurts, and everything is blocked by the firm, congealed sludge living inside of me. My hands are caught up in earthquakes, and I hear my hollow attempts to breathe as something between gasps and augmenting sobs.

I suddenly feel his hand on my shoulder and I don’t know how because his touch is light and everything is hot and numb.

“Are you okay?” he asks in a distorted voice.

No. I’m not. I’m not okay, but I can’t speak to lie and say that I’m fine, or to, for once, tell the truth. My mind is not a blank whiteboard. Instead, someone has written lyrics on it in permanent marker, and now the words are tormenting me along with dark chords, and a frantic, panicking drum beat that’s pounding against my skull.

“What’s wrong, Scott?” One of them questions me. I can’t even tell which one of them it is anymore. Matt, I think. Maybe.

I want to throw up. Or I need to. Or I just need to take in air. Any fucking air at all. Before everything finally shuts down, I have to get it out. Quavering. Quiet.

“Yellowcard.”

There’s some silence. Or it would be, but my ears are ringing, and my cheeks feel wet. After a few hundred, frenzied heartbeats, Bryson stiffens beside me, which I know because the hand that’s on my shoulder is attached to a body that I feel go rigid. His voice mingles with the deafening tone and my tears, and I hate how horrified and sorry it sounds. How lost and guilt-ridden it is.

“I was playing Lights And Sounds when they jumped…”

It’s not even the same fucking song! So what?! I’m just never going to be able to listen to Yellowcard again?! Because now they are tainted with tragedy and I’ll always remember in some crevice of my mind that that stupid song was playing, and I can almost feel our arms locked, and the salty breeze as it all rushes up ahead of us–

“Shit, man. I-I’m sorry.” I hear Cole say, and I hate the way that it sounds too because he shouldn’t have to apologize. “I didn’t know–”

I can’t even tell him to stop because I won’t be able to make any words, and I can’t breathe. Nothing’s going in and reaching my burning lungs even though I’m gasping for it. It’s not his fault, but those words stop on my tongue. It isn’t Cole’s fault. He doesn’t have to say sorry. He was in the water. He couldn’t have heard it. It’s not Cole’s fault. It’s not Matt’s fault. It’s not Bryson’s fault.

Because maybe it’s mine. We did it together, and one of us tripped, and what if it was me? Maybe if we hadn’t jumped at the same time, things would be different. He would be here, and this would be a practice for a gig instead of a failed jam session, and his guitar would have filled out Full Stop. and we would feel like Full Stop., and I wouldn’t be breaking down over a fucking Yellowcard song! But it’s too late now, and it’s all my fault.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Fuck it! Move!”

Such a loud voice that slices through my earplugs like a razor blade and splits the air with the shrill metal sound of an axe hammering down. If I wasn’t shaking so terribly, I’d flinch at it because it hurts, but it also makes every trembling muscle inside of me tense painfully.

It’s sudden, but Bryson’s hand withdraws quick, and my vision finally goes dark, and then talons dig into my flesh and sear it, and I’m yanked up violently to the sounds of muffled protests surrounding us. My own laboured, raspy, wailing gasps rise above the guys as I try to bring in anything at all, but it turns out to just be another futile attempt because there’s not enough air in the atmosphere to keep me alive.

My skin burns where fingernails dig in and inflict agony like they’re steel nails instead, and I don’t know how I stumble when my legs have turned to rubber, and my feet feel weighted down. I could crumble and snap and break at any moment like a building ready to topple. All the retentions are groaning, the supports failing, and I’m about to fall, and I can’t fucking breathe!

There are bewildered and demanding words coming from the dark blurs around me, and I try to blink the water away, but it’s coming too fast. Only one forceful voice has the volume to rise above, and it’s almost clear, and so close to me, and shoving me harshly as if the sound itself has become a physical entity, and it’s so damn annoying. It pushes and pulls me, and I’m running out of the strength to fight it because everything I have left is trying to suppress the bile gathering in my stomach and threatening my useless esophagus.

Then everything is bright, like the sun on that horrible, unsuspecting day. I’d say I feel blinded by it, but I didn’t see anything before anyway. There’s more forced stumbling and a muddling of voices and sounds. Another rises over them, so loud, and shrill, yet it can never hit the notes it sets out to despite always trying to rise at the end of every line.

“Get in,” it demands.

“Selena, what the fuck are you doing?!” Bryson. I think it’s Bryson. It sounds kind of like Bryson, but so far away.

I think there’s a response, but I’m trapped in a fishbowl and everything is half muted. I’m sitting, and all I hear before someone else speaks is a loud slam right beside me. Then there’s something that sounds like angry arguing, but I can’t make it out because my thundering heartbeat and broken lungs are trying to kill me. Another harsh slam, then a jingle, sputter, and hum, and then the whole world lurches forward.

And my gut lurches forward and upwards again, and that forces the blackness clouding my eyes to dissolve into dizzy, sparkling fragments. I barely have the air to heave, but I manage to start gagging, rocking forward in my leather seat, and then her voice shrieks:

“Don’t you fucking dare puke in my car!”

I’m in Selena Walton’s stupid, expensive Lexus. There’s that small, sane part of me clinging to the thought that blowing chunks inside of her Lexus is a bigger fuck you to her than smearing Vaseline on the door handle, but it’s microscopic because the acidic needles of the bile are pricking the base of my empty windpipe, and it’s so fucking hot in here, and no matter how much blinking I do everything is blurry, and those lyrics are stuck in my mind.

“But make it loud, cause nobody’s there.”

Nobody’s there.

He’s not there. He’s not here. One. I’m alone in the chapel with a monument to destruction, the end of an era. Two. Together, we jump. Three. My leg feels like it’s been severed. Four. My head has exploded. Five. I shatter into pieces. Six. I’m gripping the porcelain sides of a bathroom sink to keep from falling. Seven. In the nightmares, I’m falling. Falling, falling, falling. Eight. I’m suffocated by the emptiness of a black abyss and closed-in walls of my bedroom without him in it. Nine. The futon is in couch mode. And that’s not ever going to change again. Ten. There’s not enough air, but I can’t seem to drown. Eleven. We hit the ledge over half-way down a thirty-foot fall, and it was all my fault. He’s gone, and I should have gone with him, but I didn’t and he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone – You’re never going to get rid of me, Morgan – and why can’t I fucking breathe–

And then something unimaginable happens.

It’s fast, unpredictable, and unprompted, and my boiled blood becomes lava because the second I realize what’s going on, I am furious.

Her arm smacks into and lays across my chest and pushes me back harshly against the seat, pinning me. She’s leaned over the console in the middle with her other hand still stretched to hold the wheel, but I only notice that after the fact, and it’s still not the most terrifying thing. My tear-blinded eyes go wide, and probably vault out of my skull like a cartoon because this is a new kind of unwelcome proximity.

Her lips are on my lips. She kisses me with her greasy, scalding, obnoxious, red mouth and suddenly my trembling limbs freeze in place. The world pauses for a second – or it feels like it except she’s also fucking driving in West Hills, which is just as uneven and winding as Woodland Hills and Bryson’s street is no exception, and her fucking foot must be pressing the accelerator to the floor.

But I am less focused on fearing for my life and more focused on the fact that I have now kissed Selena fucking Walton.

“What the FUCK?!”

[h0ldthiscat]

The letter arrives on the day she walks the length of the front porch by herself. This is how she measures time now, not in sunrises but in accomplishments: the day she can sit up without a shooting pain in her side, the day she slept through the night before, the day she sneaks a cigarette.

She sits on the porch as the car pulls up, the sun painting the lake an earthy orange in the gathering dark. Elizabeth descends the cabin stairs to help her, but the older woman waves her off.

“Something came for you,” Donna says, holding a letter-sized envelope.

Elizabeth frowns. “Are you sure?”

Donna hands the letter over, balancing an armful of groceries on her hip. There is no return address, but Elizabeth knows who it’s from. Only one person knows she’s here. A breeze whips down the narrow road past the cabin, brushing her hair back over her shoulder, and suddenly she is very cold.

“How does stew sound?” Donna asks, entering the house.

“Good,” Elizabeth murmurs, turning the letter over in her hands and following her nurse inside.

If something we really wrong he’d have signaled somehow. But they hadn’t said they’d write. She’d called the kids once, on a line with a bad connection, so it was hard to tell if they were disappointed or excited that she’d be gone for a little while. There had been joy in Paige’s voice when she realized her father was coming home. She remembers that.

Elizabeth slips a finger under the envelope flap and it opens with ease. There is his neat block lettering: he’d always been more comfortable writing in capitals, a crutch that had caused him frustration during training, even though their instructors kept saying it didn’t matter much. His confident lettering is larger than the lines on the notebook paper, probably torn from Paige’s school binder.

Her chest constricts as she thinks of what they must be doing now. Paige and Henry trundling down the stairs and coming to rest their elbows on the kitchen table, heads bent over a meal served on woven placemats. Philip with a handsome smile, proud of the food he’s made, though it will surely make Henry wrinkle his nose, despite Philip’s best efforts. She aches for him, for all of them. For her family.

There is no date on the letter, no introduction, no Dear Elizabeth. He simply begins:

The furnace had some trouble last week. Someone came to fix it but now it makes this hissing sound when the heat comes on. Henry says it sounds like there’s a ghost in the basement. His hockey team moved their practices to the other ice rink, off Williamsburg. Matthew Beeman offered to drive him, since he needs to practice for his driving test, so he’s been taking him to and from Thursday practices.

Paige keeps mentioning she wants to learn to play guitar, but when I offer to take her to the music store she pretends like I’m crazy for even suggesting it. She used to love singing when she was little. Those concerts she’d put on for us. I told her Ellen and Jackie could sleep over next weekend and I already regret it.

I like where you hung that new photo in the hallway. Was that in Boston? I don’t think Henry even remembers that trip, he was so young. God, that awful mustache I had. Why did you let me do that?

Even though it’s been weeks since you slept here I can still smell you. Your hair, your shampoo, your skin, on your pillow. I missed sleeping beside you when I was away. Those nights in that stupid hotel, that apartment. I missed you. The feel of your body next to mine. I miss you now. So much it’s like an ache. I love you.

He doesn’t sign it.

She scans the edges of the paper through watery eyes, lips pressed tightly together. But there are no markings, no coded messages, nothing between the lines. This is a letter from a husband to a wife. This is a letter from Philip.  

“Everything alright?” Donna calls from the kitchen.

“Fine,” Elizabeth answers, her throat tight.

She wants to get in the car and leave tonight, drive all the way home and sleep in her own bed, kiss the tops of her children’s heads, feel Philip’s hands at her waist. If she closes her eyes she can feel him at her bedside in that warehouse, the only thing in focus as she slipped in and out of consciousness.

Sometimes the way he looks at her makes her feel like her chest will split open.

______________________________

Paige remembers suddenly as she hoists her purse over her shoulder. “Mom--my necklace. The one you untangled.”

Elizabeth’s brow knits as she sips from one of their speckled coffee cups. “Paige, there’s no time.”

“I’m taking it with me, it’s my favorite necklace!” She puts her bag back down and heads out of the kitchen.

“Well hurry up, we don’t want to hit traffic!” her mother’s voice calls up the stairs after her.

Paige rolls her eyes as her hand trails up the banister. Her shoes scuff against the carpet in her parents’ bedroom. When she was little she’d thought nothing of their requests for privacy; plenty of her friends’ parents had similar rules. But like always, her situation had been a little different. She and Henry were never allowed to wake them up in the middle of the night. Even when she was little, she’d slept with the light on after a nightmare instead of waking them up.

She shakes her head and sighs, looking at the pile of earrings scattered across the top of her mother’s dresser. “I don’t see it!” she calls, exasperated.

Against her better judgement, she opens the first drawer of the dresser, slow so as not to make noise. What she finds is disappointingly boring: an extra pack of cigarettes, a couple pairs of stringy black underwear, stockings she hasn’t seen her wear in years, a near-empty bottle of perfume, and a few old jewelry boxes--none of which contain the necklace she’s looking for. She’s about to give up when her fingers brush against the bottom of the door and slide against a smooth, folded piece of paper.

“Paige, enough, we have to leave now!”

Downstairs, she hears the garage door open. Before she can change her mind she slips the paper into her jacket pocket and closes the drawer.

“I couldn’t find it,” she tells her mother as they hurry out the door.

“I left it right on the dresser, are you sure?”

“Yes,” Paige sighs, sliding into the backseat, crammed against her suitcase and a small stack of boxes.

“This is that discipline we talked about, Paige. If you can’t trust yourself, your own abilities, you’re not going to--”

“I get it, thank you,” she snaps.

“What’s the address again?” Philip jokes as he pulls onto the main road.

“Not funny, Dad,” Paige says.

They pass the small creek, the Lutheran Church with the big parking lot, the small white house on the corner two blocks up with green shutters. And she wishes it felt different, that it felt like something was changing, that her going to college was the monumental event it was for so many of her peers. But as they drove, as her mother stared pensively out the window, as her father fidgeted with the radio dial, she realized this was just another drive. Just another day with a secret inside of her so huge she felt like it would one day swallow her whole.

It is hours later when she remembers the letter, after she’s met her roommates Gwen and Sarah, after a mandatory meeting hosted by the over-enthusiastic resident advisor, after she collapses on her bed amidst a mess of half-opened boxes. She sees the letter sticking out of her coat pocket at the foot of her bed and she reaches for it. It is folded neatly into thirds, and the handwriting is her mother’s too-perfect cursive. Even though the paper is unlined, the words are perfectly straight across the page.

Paige reads and her chest tightens.

Dear Philip,

It’s peaceful here. Lonely. I remember when the kids were young, I’d dream about one day, one hour, one minute that was my own, that wasn’t spent changing diapers or making lunches or working. Now the silence is unsettling.

Aunt Helen is doing much better these past few days. We’re making great progress and I might be able to return sooner than we thought. If anything changes, I’ll let you know. At the earliest, I’d come home for Henry’s birthday. I know he wants that video game but I’d honestly rather give him anything else.

I feel helpless here, Philip. I don’t like that. All that time wasted and now

There’s a large gap on the page here, and when she begins again the letters are thicker, written with a different pen. Paige remembers her own journals as a child, smudged with blue and black ink, the long loops of her g’s and y’s.

I stared at your letter for hours before sitting down to write this. You know I’m not good at putting these things into words. Everything I’m thinking seems impossible to write down, but once I do, it’s only a hollow echo of how I really feel. Every moment I’m awake I’m thinking of you, and when I sleep you’re there in my dreams. It never used to be like that. I never used to dream.

Elizabeth

Paige refolds the letter with shaking hands, her face burning like that time she hadn’t knocked on her parents’ door. But this letter feels more invasive somehow, more intimate. She’s never heard her mother talk like this before.

She unpacks a box of clothes to keep her head from spinning, then goes to the telephone in the kitchen. The one in her bedroom isn’t set up yet. She dials and it rings five times, six. To her surprise, her mother says “hello?” just before the machine picks up.

“Mom,” she says, voice tight in her throat.

“Paige. Did you forget something?”

“I just--”

Suddenly she doesn’t know why she called. She’ll see her on Sunday, they’ve already set the meeting point and what she’s supposed to wear. A thin envelope of driver’s licenses with different names is already hidden away in her new room, somewhere no one will find. And if they do, they won’t think it odd that a college freshman has a couple of fake IDs.

“Paige?” Her mother’s voice is soft like it gets sometimes, like she hasn’t heard it in months. “Everything--”

“I love you, Mom,” she blurts. “And thank you. For--for untangling my necklace. I realized once I got here I’d already packed it.”

“Oh. Well that’s good.”

Paige clutches the phone cord, the maroon coils twisting around her middle finger like a snake. “I’m looking forward to getting our nails done on Sunday,” she says, making sure to use the phrase she was given.

“Me too,” Elizabeth answers.

Paige breathes, and knows she’s on the precipice of understanding something. And she hears her mother’s breathing, and she knows she feels it too.

[forallyourikemensengokuneeds]

A Dangerous Interaction

Chapter One

 All eyes turned and looked at the new arrival. The rain had made most of the people not even bothering to come to the second annual Alone unValentine event as the guys at the building were calling it. The group of fifteen or so men all looked her over and were surprised she had ventured out in the rain to come. It was out of her office which she seemed more apt to hide in then socialize with them.

“I can’t believe she is here.”, one of the guys said softly just loud enough for the group as a whole could hear over the music. They all had their drinks, and though it was supposed to be an event for the specialized teams, it seemed more of a Friday night get together. Everyone had stayed in their own groups that were made up of people they worked with or knew for years. There was a few younger ones who tried to mix in though they often left the group within a short amount of time.

The woman who had just walked in and looked around was the top researcher they had. She was normally the quietest member in any room as she sat with her glasses perched on her face and her eyes in a binder taking notes. She spent almost every second on the job in her office hiding behind her screen. No one really knew her that well. They had all written her bookish ways off as not interesting enough to hold their collective attention for longer than a conversation.

The group of men moved closer to the bar where she was headed if only to see what she really wanted there, it no doubt had something to do with work, and she wasn’t there to be a part of the gathering. The main boss of their building was sitting on the bar and had waved her over. Though he was quite a bit older than everyone else, he was still known as a lady’s man and was probably working on his newest divorce.

“Good to see you kid.”, he said as he stood up and looked around them to see if anyone else was interested in her. He locked eyes with the group of men inching their way over, and he smiled a knowing smile. “Glad to see you could get a sitter.”

“Wasn’t that hard.”, she replied. Sitter they all looked around trying to figure out the word. None of them knew anything about her enough to know what that meant.

“Well, you rarely make time for anything but work.”, the main boss stated.

“Friday’s are soccer days.”, she laughed. “Not to mention Saturdays are for dance.”

“I forgot what it is like with kids.”, the main boss said as he laughed.

“Hectic is what it is like.”, she smiled.

“Well, you have some good ones there so you must be doing something right.”, He said as the bartender asked what she would have. She placed her order which was non-alcoholic much to everyone’s surprise.

“I still have to drive.”, she said with a smile. Everyone who was looking at her wouldn’t know she was the nerd in the office with her head in manuals at that second, as she had her glasses off and a smile on her face. Though she seemed smaller than anyone of them remembered her to be they were still moving forward towards her but as a group.

She turned and saw them as she chuckled at the movement. When she got her drink, she looked the room over and thought it was like a junior high school dance but with older people and more issues present. The thought almost had her laughing to herself. She didn’t know why she even bothered coming to something like this, but in all honesty, it was the fact her two oldest daughters were on dates tonight, and she would be stuck at home watching the other two fighting over what game to play. Going out and being in an adult setting might make her feel human again. She knew how everyone in the building thought of her. It didn’t change the fact that she was still a person and wanted to be treated as one though she was really good at her job.

“So, um, you’re the lead scientific researcher?”, one of the guys asked as they were close enough to speak without yelling. She looked up and saw they were all looking her over as if they had never seen her before.

“Yeah.”, she replied.

“You needed to get a sitter?”, another one asked. She knew then no one even knew she had kids. She smiled and let out a chuckle.

“Yeah, For my kids.”, she said.

“You have kids?”, one of the guys asked. He was the tallest of the bunch and probably one of the older ones as well. Though she had seen him before and he was the one who flirted with every female, well every female but her.

“Four.”, she said.

“You have four kids?”, the Green team leader asked in disbelief.

“Yup.”, she said.

“Where is your husband?”, one of the younger ones asked and then got hit upsides the head.

“Never had one.”, she said as she continued to drink and look around.

“So you have four kids, but you haven’t married the father?”, one of the guys she did sort of knowledge as the lead of the research team she worked with the science officers of the other team, not closely but enough to know them by sight.

“I would have never married their father. That I think is illegal in most states regardless.”, she said and laughed with the knowledge she knew, and they didn’t.

“Explain.”, one said.

“Excuse me?”, she countered.

“Could you explain that statement Kitten is what he meant to say. He doesn’t really know how to talk to people.”, one of the men stepped forward and bowed to her hand. She knew of this one, she had heard the other women talk about him and his antics.

“I adopted them ten years ago. They are my brother’s biological kids.”, she said with a smile.

“That is wonderful!”, one said as he moved forward and she saw he truly meant that.

“How old are they?”, one of the last men asked.

“Sixteen, Fourteen, Eleven, and Nine.”, she said.

“Wow, you have your hands full.”, someone said.

“The three oldest are girls, so I do indeed have my hands full.”, she replied with a laugh.

“Now it makes sense why you never came out with everyone.”, one person called out.

“Yeah, they keep me pretty busy.”, she said as he phone went off and she looked at the incoming text. “And they keep me running around.” Her face fell as she was finally able to talk with people, but she knew she had to go. “Sorry I gotta run.”

“Sitter not working out?”, one of the guys prompted.

“Boyfriend trouble.”, she replied.

“Oh.”, on of the guys said.

“She never listened to me, but now she is finding out.”, she said with a smile as she set the drink on the bar and gathered her coat which she had placed there.

“Not you but one of your kids.”, one of the guys said.

“Yeah. I don’t have one.”, she said with a laugh. “No guy wants a woman who has four kids.”

She put her jacket on and smiled one last time as she turned to leave and the guys went back to the area they had been in the first place. The last words echoed through someone their minds, and they realized for the most part that last statement was true, no sane man wants to go out with a woman with four kids. One man though thought she was dead wrong as he watched her back as she walked out the door. He also placed his drink on the bar and walked out after her.

“Need some help?”, he asked as he closed the distance between them in the parking lot.

“With?”, she asked.

“The boyfriend.”, he said with a lopsided grin. “Sorry to say most teenage boys will not back down because of a mom, however they will back down if another man is involved.”

“Experience?”, she asked with a laugh.

“Sort of, more observations.”, he replied.

“Sure, a little help would be nice.”, she said as she walked over to her car and he got in the passenger side as she unlocked it.

“I was thinking minivan.”, he said with a chuckle.

“That goes with the workaholic soccer mom stereotype I am afraid.”, she said.

“Mitsuhide.”, he said as he put out his hand.

“Kit.”, she placed hers in his.

“Really your name is Kit?”, he asked.

“After fifteen kids my parents couldn’t think of any more good names.”, she said with a shrug.

“So you’re the youngest?”, he asked.

“Yes.”, she replied, “Though you would never know that fact, by the way, my brothers and sisters act. It should say a lot that I was given these monsters when I was barely eighteen over all the rest of them.”

“That does say a lot.”, he replied as he thought of how hard everything must have been for her at the time. “It says a lot about you too.”

“How so?”, she asked as she was driving.

“You were nothing but a child as well, and then you had to raise four more. How old were they when they came to you?”, he asked.

“Six, Four, one, and three days old.”, she said.

“So you had to grow up fast.”, he said.

“I was already grown up.”, she said. “Years of conditioning made me able to just accept four kids and keep going.”

“That doesn’t sound easy.”, he said softly.

“It wasn’t.”, she said as she smiled.

“I had already done the college thing and was in my second year of med school.”, she said. “So not only did I have to work a full-time job I had to go to school then go home and be a parent.”

“How did you manage?”, he asked.

“I just did.”, she said.” I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but it was also the best experience of my life. They keep me busy, but I know if they were with someone else they might not be able to do the things they can now.”

“But you gave up your life for them.”, he said, and then he instantly regretted it. “That came out wrong.”

“I know what you meant. I did. I did so willingly though. I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew what it would take and what I was giving up.”, she said. “It isn’t like people go ‘oh she is a beauty’ when they look at me. I accepted it years ago.”

“You’re wrong.”, he said.

“How so?”, she asked.

“People do say you are a beauty when they look at you.”, he said.

“Well…. I …… Urm.”, she said.

“Did that fluster you?”, he asked with his grin spreading.

“I am a stunted eighteen-year-old with a few extra years. So yeah, fluster is the right word.”, she said as they pulled into the mall parking lot and she turned off the car.

“My dear, Mouse, I only spoke the truth.”, he said.

“Mouse really?”, she asked as she got out of the car and he moved his cell phone to his other pocket.

“Someone calling you?”, she asked.

“It is just the guys trying to figure out where I disappeared too.”, he said as he put out his arm to which she looked out him confused. He then took her arm and wound his around hers. “You may be a stunted eighteen-year-old with a few extra years, mouse, but I think it is time you knew your worth in a broader sense.”

“What are you talking about?”, she asked.

“One thing at a time.”, he replied. “Now we have a young man to surprise.”

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE PROMISED LAND (PART TWO)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra. Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

The junction lies just ahead, Traveler. If you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

(CHUCKLES) Well, next stop? Hyperion City.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Somewhere down here lies the Free Dome, a promised paradise built by the greatest geniuses of the past. It is a patient place which has waited hundreds of years to be found, but that wait ends today.

Two P.I.s, the mayor, and a gangster-for-hire are on their way to this hidden treasure now. They know where it is; they know how to get there; but the Free Dome has waited hundreds of years to prepare for these visitors, and nobody knows what it will do when they find it.

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES. DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

Our next stop: Juno Steel and the Promised Land.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

JUNO: What the hell…? Why’s it so goddamn dar—?

Where am I, even?

SOUND: ECHOING FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING.

Heels, is that– Pilot? Theia, night-vision mode.

…Theia?

Don’t try anything, Pereyra! I’m armed and you’re out of your element!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS STOP.

PETER NUREYEV: Oh, Juno. I know we’ve grown apart, but far enough to shoot me? (CHUCKLES) No, I don’t think so.

SOUND: MATCH LIGHTS.

JUNO: Nureyev?!

NUREYEV: Hm? “Nuh-ray-yev”? No, I don’t think I recall that name. I move between monikers so quickly – it’s difficult to remember them all.

JUNO: But… it’s you. It’s you, right? Peter Nureyev.

NUREYEV: I remember a heist about, let’s say, a decade into my career. A bank job. I’d done everything necessary to get myself into their system as an armored hauler driver named Leon Prince, and all that was left was the hand-off. Drive to the bank, show the paperwork, then drive away with all their money – they do the thieving for me. And it worked swimmingly, until the man in charge of the transfer looked at the paperwork, looked at me, and said, “Leon Prince! It’s been years! Don’t you remember me? From back in Guan Yu?”

JUNO: What? Why– why does… damn it, that sounds familiar, too.

NUREYEV: It seemed I had used the same alias eight years previous, on the other side of the galaxy… and I had completely forgotten both the name and the man I’d used as an alibi, apparently. It took so long to shake him, too. Ugh. I tell you, Juno, banks are more trouble than they’re worth. And they hardly keep anything on hand anyway.

JUNO: You didn’t rob that bank. That case… I-I solved that case. Three years ago. That’s why it seemed familiar.

NUREYEV: As familiar as I look, yes? And yet I don’t recall ever meeting you before.

JUNO: You just said my name.

NUREYEV: I said a name. It was someone I thought you resembled, but… you couldn’t possibly be him. You’re just… a has-been. A cyclops that thinks he’s a private eye.

JUNO: The hell are you talking about?

Whatever. Get your yuks out now, Nureyev—

NUREYEV: Who?

JUNO: —because I’m not gonna be a has-been for much longer, you hear me? I’m about to bust the mayor of this goddamn city, and once I get the stuff they’re after, life’s never gonna be the same again. Nobody’s ever gonna get hurt the way Pilot’s trying to hurt them. I’m onto big things, Nureyev. It’s all gonna be worth it.

NUREYEV: It certainly seems that way. Just as you seem to be Juno Steel. And yet.

JUNO: Damn it, stop talking in riddles! I am Juno Steel!

NUREYEV: No. You aren’t. I saw something in Juno Steel. Something impressive. And being that I myself am quite impressive that makes him impressive, too. But you? (CHUCKLES) You’re a dog.

JUNO: What?!

NUREYEV: No. Even less dignified than that. A dog allows a collar only onto his neck, but you? You’ve fashioned yours in your brain, and the leash runs out your eye.

JUNO: Stop it, Nureyev…

NUREYEV: I’m not certain how much clearer I can be about this. I am not Peter Nureyev.

JUNO: Of course you are! Knock it off!

NUREYEV: Juno, where are you?

JUNO: The… subway. That pod, on the way to the Free Dome. Trying to bag Pilot and the Piranha.

NUREYEV: And who is with you?

JUNO: You, obviously…

Strong. I-I came down with… where the hell’s Alessandra?

This isn’t the pod, is it? And it’s not the Free Dome, either. This is just…

NUREYEV: A dream.

JUNO: A… dream…

Nureyev, I feel like I messed up. I can’t decide. I-I just keep thinking about that night, and there was this second in the doorway, and it lasted so long I feel like part of me’s still there, and—

NUREYEV: This is all very sweet, dear detective, but we both know this isn’t the time.

JUNO: I… I-I—

NUREYEV: Shh.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS. KISSING.

And this, I think, is where we part.

JUNO: Nureyev, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I just keep hurting people one after the other and I just have to think it’s all for something, y’know? It’s all gonna be worth it, and I feel like I just keep digging myself deeper because the last time I got in this bad that’s when you—

NUREYEV: Shh. Listen! Pull yourself together. You’re about to step into that big, mean world and you have to match its meanness if you want to survive.

JUNO: Yeah… Yeah, sure, yeah.

NUREYEV: I’ve only two suggestions before you go. And I want you to listen carefully, now.

First: in Polaris Park, nothing is as it seems.

JUNO: But I’m not in Polaris—

NUREYEV: And second: mind the cake on your way down.

JUNO: What?

SOUND: RUSTLE, GRUNTS, STUMBLING FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: Whooaaoooooaaaaaaaaaa—

NUREYEV: Farewell, Juno! And happy birthday!

VOICE 4: (OVERLAPPING WITH NUREYEV) Happy birthday, little monsters.

Just remember, Benzaiten, if you want to get mad at anyone, Ma’s not where you should start. Some kids get to celebrate their birthdays. And what do we celebrate instead?

That’s right. We celebrate the day Juno ruined everything. The day he just… handed our lives away because someone said ‘please.’ And why’d he do it? (CHUCKLES) ‘Cause your twin brother’s about as smart as a sack of bricks that got hit over the head with another sack of bricks.

PIRANHA: (DISTANT, OVERLAPPING WITH ABOVE) You don’t shut him up, Big-Eyes, and I’ll pop a hole in his mouth won’t ever close.

VOICE 4 (SARAH STEEL): And we never… let him… forget it.

STRONG: (DISTANT, OVERLAPPING WITH ABOVE) Steel!

SOUND: DISTANT SLAP.

Steel, come on… (GRUNTS)

SOUND: DISTANT SLAP.

Juno!

JUNO: Ahhhhhhhhhh!

SOUND: SLAP. ELEVATOR MUSIC CUTS IN.

PIRANHA: That’s more like it. Can barely hear the game with all this goddamn screaming…

PEREYRA: Don’t you have any manners, P.I.? So much noise when we’re all locked in this little tube.

STRONG: You’re the one with the gun on him.

PEREYRA: Then it sounds like he’d really better listen to me, doesn’t it? (CHUCKLES)

Doesn’t anyone wear a watch anymore? What time is it?

STRONG: For the fourth time, I do. It’s two AM.

PEREYRA: Two AM… so we’ve been down here… That can’t be right. Your watch is off.

STRONG: This is a thermonuclear timepiece, Solar Military issue. This wouldn’t go off if you wore it into a black hole, Mx. Mayor. And I should know. I’ve done it.

PEREYRA: Two AM! It’s election day up there and I’m in some mobile coffin a hundred miles underground?

PIRANHA: For someone pissing and moaning about noise you sure are makin’ a lot of it, Pilot.

PEREYRA: (SIGHS) Whatever. I’ll still take the win. I gave them the Pereyra School for Future Pilots; I gave them the Sparkhouse Stadium; I gave them jobs and parks and a police force worth a damn, and who knows how much else. I’ll win. And meanwhile… bigger and better things. But don’t think you’re off the hook, buddy. You got us into this. You get to fix it.

PIRANHA: I did? You were just as antsy to get down here—

PEREYRA: Shut up. I don’t care. Shut. Up. (SIGHS) I just. Need you. To fix this. Now. Hmm?

PIRANHA: (SIGHS) Well, P.I.? You’ve been pretty quiet since you woke up from that little nappy. Gets a gal to wondering what’s rolling around in that thick skull of yours, see?

JUNO (NARRATOR): What’s rolling around in my skull, huh?

A lot, honestly. It’s had a lot of time to roll. (SIGHS)

MUSIC: STARTS.

Three days. It had been three days since we got on that stupid pod heading towards the Free Dome, and the doors sealed us in here tight as sardines in a binder. Because Erin Marshall D’Arc, the founder of the Free Dome? Her whole thing about safety? Turns out she meant it. We found that out within the first five minutes of our ride, three days ago, when her message said this:

SOUND: STATIC.

ERIN (FROM SPEAKER): For your safety, the pod doors will not open again until we arrive at the Free Dome. This patch of subterranean desert is a common breeding ground for undercrows, and until we find a way to redirect them peacefully, the only way to guarantee your survival is to cover you from all sides at all times and filter your air supply for their microscopic spawn.

In rare cases, subterranean radiation can cause underground brainswell, and so the music you’re hearing has been scientifically engineered to calm your nerves. It cannot be changed. Regular meals will be served that should cover all of your nutritional needs. We care about your health, neighbor. Thank you.

SOUND: STATIC ENDS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The “regular meals” looked like a mummy’s instant breakfast, ancient, all mold and sand and dust. Luckily for Pilot, the Piranha, and I, Strong came prepared for everything. As she proved within seconds of opening our first century-old meal, when she took four rations out of that big backpack of hers.

SOUND: UNZIPPING.

PIRANHA: Look at you, Big-Eyes. Got an answer for everything.

STRONG: Yeah, well, in general I’d really rather not die. I have enough food in here for two people, two weeks.

MUSIC: ENDS.

PEREYRA: Two weeks! (LAUGHING) Hope all that back strain’s worth it to you, buddy. We’re not gonna be down here two weeks.

(CHEWING) Hey, that’s actually not bad. Hand me another.

STRONG: We’ll have to stretch them out. These aren’t snacks, they’re—

PEREYRA: We’re not going to be down here for two weeks.

SOUND: GUN COCKING.

So why don’t you just give me another?

JUNO: Just give them another, Alessandra. They’re not gonna listen.

STRONG: …Fine.

SOUND: RUSTLING.

PILOT: What service! You want one?

PIRANHA: I think I’ll wait.

PEREYRA: Suit yourself. (CHEWING)

JUNO (NARRATOR): Strong watched the two of them warily – the Piranha tapping on a little radio in her ear, Pilot tapping a heel to D’Arc’s awful music. They were too far away for her to reach before the lasers started flying, so instead she leaned over to me and whispered:

STRONG: Undercrows have been extinct for three hundred years.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I was about to whisper something back. Something like, “thanks for the bird fact,” or, “what?” when Pilot spat crumbs across the pod at us.

PEREYRA: (GARBLED) Hey now, hey now… (SWALLOWS) No need for secrets. Why don’t you tell the whole class what you two troublemakers are thinking about, hm?

STRONG: I was just telling him that I have some first aid supplies in here, too. I’d like to bandage the burn on his hand so it doesn’t get infected.

PEREYRA: Hmm.

STRONG: He’s no use to you if he’s dead.

PIRANHA: That ain’t true. If he’s dead you can cut him up into pieces easy, no struggle, and then use them on pressure plates or something—

STRONG: Let me rephrase that: the only reason I’m not coming over there and breaking both of your necks right now is that he’s too hurt to outrun your laser. So if he dies, I’m no use to you, and then you’ve lost your insurance.

PEREYRA: (CHUCKLES) I like the confidence. I really do.

You. Go bandage him.

PIRANHA: Me?!

PEREYRA: She’ll tell you how to do it. And I don’t like them next to one another. So from now on, I think you two… spread out a little. And I’d better not see any more whispering. No secrets from the State, alright? (CHUCKLES)

JUNO (NARRATOR): Strong didn’t get another chance to tell me what she meant. And so that’s been stuck in my head ever since: why the hell did we care how long ago undercrows died off?

Extinct predators. Spoiled food. The Theia shorting out on me again. A pod that had been moving for three days when you could drive across Mars in two. The Free Domers. Long-dead voices on the intercom.

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BUZZES & BLIPS.

VOICE 1 (FROM SPEAKER): You have to listen. I don’t have time, can’t figure out how to delete these. I’m no good at this – not like them. Please, go away, just go—

SOUND: BUZZING ENDS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): My name’s Juno Steel. I’m a private eye, and right now I’m… uhhh, pretty confused, honestly?

But, any-anyway, back to where we were: 2 AM. Election day. The Piranha was bored and looking for a chew toy and there I was, ready for chomping.

PIRANHA: Shy, huh? You a little scared, P.I.? Maybe someone oughta hold your hand through this tough time, see?

JUNO: (PAINED GROAN)

PIRANHA: (CACKLES)

STRONG: Ugh… We’ll have to disinfect and reapply… again.

JUNO: I just woke up! You can’t give a lady three seconds to collect himself?

PEREYRA: Some of us don’t get to sleep. Some of us have been awake for three days, babysitting a couple nosy P.I.s who don’t know how to mind their own business.

PIRANHA: Every one of my watches has been twice as long as yours, Pilot. You’ve slept nearly six hours a night.

PEREYRA: I said some of us. I never said it was me.

PIRANHA: You lousy—!

SOUND: JINGLE PLAYS.

PEREYRA: Shhh!

(LAUGHING) That’s it! Another Free Domer message! We must be there!

SOUND: STATIC.

ERIN (FROM SPEAKER): Thank you for your patience, my new neighbors. We’ve built this pod with the greatest technology available to us, and we hope you’ve been impressed by the speed of your travel. You are nearly halfway across the surface of Mars!

PIRANHA: My car coulda lapped this stupid planet twice by now.

PEREYRA: Shh!

ERIN (FROM SPEAKER): The Free Dome is close, now. Once you pass through the hive of Death millipedes you’ll be safe to get out. In just two short hours—

PEREYRA: Two hours!

ERIN (FROM SPEAKER): —we’ll arrive, and you’ll be home at last.

SOUND: JINGLE AGAIN.

PEREYRA: Come on… come on, Pilot, two hours is nothing… You’ve waited forty years for this, you’re about to get there, you know you’re about to get there…

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP. STATIC.

STRONG: What’s that?

MARSHALL (FROM SPEAKER): Yeah, sorry, Ma. But no. Grab onto something, neighbors. Or don’t.

SOUND: LOUD WHOOSHING & SCRAPING.

JUNO, STRONG, PEREYRA, PIRANHA: Whoa!

SOUND: BOOM.

MARSHALL: This is where you get off. Now start walking.

SOUND: STATIC ENDS. PNEUMATIC HISS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The doors opened for the first time in three days, and… well, the place on the other side was pretty much where you’d assume something called a “Death millipede” lived.

It was an old underground tunnel, the walls pocked and spongy, stalactites dripping with something thick and silvery. People had built things down here, signs and lights and tracks, but the radiation had clearly done damage even this deep below the surface. Fixtures corroded. Tracks like time had taken a blowtorch to ‘em.

For just a second I had an image I couldn’t shake of… myself, looking like one of those signs; melting and shapeless and burnt. I tried to shake it out, but it was sticky. Just like whatever the hell was clinging to those stalactites.

JUNO: (MOANS)

PIRANHA: Alright, you heard spooky voice number two. And if you see one of them Death millipedes D’Arc was talking about, you tell me, see? Been meaning to get some new decorations for the pad, and a monster head’s my kinda style.

STRONG: Good luck with that. Death millipedes have been extinct for two hundred years.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Strong pointed two sharp eyes at mine. That was supposed to mean something, but… I didn’t know what.

PEREYRA: D’Arc must have driven them out. Some people are born to do the impossible, like build a legendary city, or kill a species of deathless insects, or discover a legendary city and win an election on the same day. For example.

PIRANHA: You two, go ahead. I want a buffer just in case some big bug decides to grab a snack, see?

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: Wow, it’s dark down here. Does that map you stole say anything about this?

PEREYRA: It’s a straight hallway. You don’t need a map.

JUNO: Yeah, but if it says “here there be nuclear dragons” on it that’s info that might be helpful.

PIRANHA: It was a map of the subway system, and now we’re way the hell away from the subway system. Guess you’ll just have to be careful.

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP. STATIC.

MARSHALL (FROM SPEAKER): So, you’re probably wondering why I stopped you out in these irradiated badlands, with all the oogidies and the boogidies waiting to getcha. I’ve got three answers for that. Answer one: it’s none of your business. Two: my testing materials have got to last a long time, forever probably, and it’ll help wear and tear if less of you make it to them. Three: it’s still none of your goddamn business.

Anyway, the tests. Listen, I know I’m pretty hard on the old lady, and that’s not one hundred percent fair. The whole Free Dome idea was hers, and so was the tech. She was pretty smart, for an idiot. But the management? Your whole thing is that the world’s a train wreck, so you open up a new city and just let anybody who wants walk in?

That’s not a new world. That’s not utopia. That’s the old one, all over again. Just smaller. So you’ve got to be choosy. And that’s what these tests are for, alright? Making sure we let the right ones in. Only the best, the brightest, the smartest for paradise. And everyone else rots in the belly of some undercrow.

So turn back if you want. I’m not going to go easy on you. Marshall out.

SOUND: STATIC ENDS.

STRONG: Extinct for three hundred years.

PIRANHA: You just said two hundred.

PEREYRA: Why should I care how long ago a bunch of subterranean chickens died? You heard him. We’re going the right way. Now find his testing facility.

JUNO (NARRATOR): It was just a few minutes ahead of us: the Free Domer Testing Facility, a big lumpy bulge on top of two thin, rusty legs, like a bad wisdom tooth rotting in the gums of Mars.

Marshall D’Arc had some words for us as soon as we stepped inside.

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP. STATIC.

MARSHALL (FROM SPEAKER): Alright, there’s gonna be… three tests. Three seems like a good number. That’s usually how this goes, right? And this is how they’re gonna go: first—

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP.

—one’s a test to see how generous you are.

JUNO: What the hell?

MARSHALL (FROM SPEAKER): You want in? You gotta have a sense of charity. Not like that weasel Malvin, I swear if you’re listening to this, Mal, I’m gonna tear your—

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP.

—and second—

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP.

(GARBLED) —what is this, second? Uh, Test of Faith, how about that? (CHEWING) Listen to whatever I say. Somebody’s got to. Somebody should.

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP.

—and third—

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP.

—not third, this is first, even before the first first one, which was a test of, I don’t know, how smart you are, which you already passed ‘cause you got here. Or whatever.

SOUND: PAUSE. INTERCOM BLIP.

—that’s probably got you quaking in your boots now, doesn’t it? Thought you could just walk in and own the place, huh? Well nothin’s free, chump, so prove you’re great enough for the greatest city in the galaxy. Marshall out.

SOUND: STATIC ENDS.

STRONG: What.

PEREYRA: I… I can’t believe it. We’re here! (LAUGHS) The secret laboratory of the Free Domers… we’re here. I found it. Little Pilot Pereyra, flying around with their head in the clouds, grew up and found… this.

Now move it. I’ve waited too long for this already.

PIRANHA: You heard the elected official, ladies. Move it.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): We started in a reception hall that didn’t look prepared to receive anybody. There were portrait frames on the walls, but most of them were empty, and the ones that weren’t just showed family photos. A mom and her son – the D’Arcs, probably. The kid all grown up, moody, wild-eyed. The only full portrait in the room had the face scratched out – and they didn’t look like Erin or Marshall.

There was a lot in here that didn’t line up, is my point. I wanted to compare notes with Strong about it, but… we weren’t exactly about to get a private moment.

JUNO: So, uh… what was up with that weird recording from before? Didn’t sound like interference to me. Practically sounded… I don’t know, like different people.

STRONG: Yes, it’s definitely not as simple as the stories make it out to be.

PEREYRA: (SNORTS) Incredible. We’re here, and you’re still trying to disprove this place?

STRONG: Sounds like someone’s sensitive. Don’t you care that this testing center looks… unfinished?

PEREYRA: See, this is what I mean. Do you hear this, buddy?

PIRANHA: Huh? No, wasn’t payin’ attention. Tryin’ to catch the big game on my radio. What?

PEREYRA: (SIGHS) Nevermind. I’ve known people like you two my entire life. People who will do mental backflips just to throw out the evidence right in front of them.

STRONG: (SIGHS) And what is right in front of us, Mx. Pereyra?

PEREYRA: If you actually thought about it, you’d realize it would be more concerning if this testing center were perfect and polished. How about that? If the D’Arcs spent all their time on the tests, they couldn’t have spent that time on the Dome tech. If this place is a little broken down, you know what that shows? Priorities.

STRONG: That’s assuming there is Dome tech.

PEREYRA: Of course there’s—!

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP. STATIC.

MARSHALL (FROM SPEAKER): Alright, you made it. Test of Charity. We’re gonna come out swinging with this one, alright? You’re gonna get a little gift if you complete it. Besides not dying, followed by a lifetime in paradise, I mean. I know. Marshall’s so generous with you.

So what’s it? Let’s find out. Show me what’s behind door number the-only-door-here! Dramatic reveal!

SOUND: HISS, LOW RUMBLE. STATIC ENDS.

JUNO, STRONG, PEREYRA: Whoaaaaaah.

PIRANHA: Huh.

JUNO (NARRATOR): It was… a Dome. Basically.

A shimmering circle of plasma hovering high above, the surface twisting and wiggling in the air. Like, uh… a-a Dome.

You never go a day on Mars without seeing that shining plasma. Sure, you can drive across the planet, but even with a radiation-shielded car, those trips have to be fast. And if you go to look at the sky you can’t do it for more than a few hours before things start gettin’… bad. Like, hallucinate-and-then-fry-your-skin-off kind of bad.

So that means every morning, whether you’re in Hyperion, or Olympus Mons, or Valles Marineris, when you look outside you see a Dome all around you. Sometimes just a tint on the blue and the clouds, but always there. It becomes the sky to you. And seeing one here, so far underground… it was like seeing a bubble of sky where sky didn’t belong.

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP. STATIC.

MARSHALL (FROM SPEAKER): This is it. The Dome tech Mom cooked up. Not the whole thing, obviously, just a free sample, but… still. Something worth fighting for, don’t you think? So let’s see how bad you want it. Marshall out.

SOUND: STATIC ENDS.

PEREYRA: Out of my way.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

PIRANHA: Ey, uh, Pilot? Didn’t we bring these two along to go ahead for us?

PEREYRA: This monitor has something written on it in their code. Give me the codex.

PIRANHA: Hey, you asked for it…

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEPS.

PEREYRA: “Press here to begin… the Test of Charity.”

SOUND: BEEP. RUMBLING, GEAR WHIRRING.

JUNO: Huh. I guess it did say “chairity.”

STRONG: Yeah, that’s what they said.

JUNO: No, I mean, chair–ity. ‘Cause– ‘cause it’s just a chair. Whatever.

PEREYRA: The monitor says something else now…

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEPS.

“Anyone who wishes to enter the Free Dome must be generous, and give more of themselves than they can afford. So sit upon this Chair of Charity and give to us from your blood. Get it? Chair-ity. Like a chair.”

JUNO: Aw, it was funnier when I said it.

PIRANHA: Those are IVs in the armrests… Wonder how much I could get one of these things for…

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEPS.

PEREYRA: “If your gift is adequate, you will be given the Dome. If not… you get nothing. Marshall out.”

Keep your gun on them. I’m taking the test.

PIRANHA: What?! Pilot, this is the whole reason we brought them along, ain’t it?

STRONG: I’m not complaining.

JUNO: Yeah, I am good over here.

PEREYRA: If a test is all that’s left between me and the Dome tech, I’m taking the test. So just– just watch them. I’m strapping in.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS. BUCKLES CLICK. DRILL WHIRRING.

(PAINED HISS) There. It’s in.

PIRANHA: What’s the monitor say now?

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEPS.

PEREYRA: There’s a keypad, and above that… “Select how much blood you will give.”

STRONG: Standard donation is about three hundred fifty milliliters.

What? I give a lot of blood.

PEREYRA: I know that. You think I’ve been mayor this long without showing up to a few blood drives and pretending to donate? This isn’t asking in milliliters. It’s asking in liters.

STRONG: It wants you to give a liter of blood?

JUNO: Ugh.

PIRANHA: Eh, probably more.

JUNO: Ughhh.

PEREYRA: How do you figure?

PIRANHA: Well depending on size, an adult human body’s got somewhere between four-point-five and six-point-squat liters of blood in it, see? That’s just an average, though – met a lady once who claimed to have ten, but I’m pretty sure she was full of it. Lookin’ at you, Pilot, I’m guessing you’ve got… enh, five-point-six, maybe five-point-seven liters in you. You can lose about thirty-five percent of that before you croak – forty if you’re quick – so that means they could reasonably be lookin’ for anywhere up to, eh, let’s say two liters or so.

What? I take a lot of blood.

JUNO: Ughhhh. (GAGGING)

PEREYRA: There’s a pretty big difference between three hundred fifty milliliters and two liters.

PIRANHA: Yeah, well, I ain’t the one who got in the chair.

PEREYRA: (SIGHS) Okay, it must be all here for a reason… the old Verificationist streams always talked about how only the smartest would find the Free Dome… This is a riddle. Which means the clues are nearby. He didn’t want to let in anyone who wasn’t smart enough.

JUNO: Ah, right, the old “chair-that-steals-your-blood” chestnut.

PEREYRA: I still have my gun on you, P.I. Take this seriously. So start examining the machine. Tell me what you see, and—

SOUND: ALARM BEEPS.

STRONG: What’s that?

JUNO: Uh, Pilot? The machine is, uh…

SOUND: WHIRRS. BUBBLING.

PEREYRA: It’s… activated! But, I didn’t start it!

(GRUNTS) Don’t just stand there! Do something!

PIRANHA: Gimme a second.

PEREYRA: For what?

PIRANHA: I told you, I’m listening to the big game and it just got pretty dramatic, see?

PEREYRA: It’s already taken a fourth of a liter!

PIRANHA: I wanna hear the score!

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT. GLASS SHATTERS.

Whoa!

PEREYRA: Now.

PIRANHA: Alright, alright, sheesh…

Hey, you. Use that, uh, what’s it called, Spectrum cybernetic and scan this trap. And do it now, unless you wanna get ventilated.

JUNO: What?

How’d you know about my eye?

PIRANHA: Last time I beat you you only had one. Now you got two. I always got good marks in math.

JUNO: You didn’t just say cybernetic. You said ‘Spectrum.’ That’s the brand.

PEREYRA: I’m sure when you lose as many pieces of face as she has, you learn a lot about prosthetics. Just do it! And if you give me the wrong information, P.I., I’ll make you spill enough blood for all four of us. Do you understand?

JUNO: Sounds like I don’t have a choice either way.

THEIA: Scanning electromagnetic frequencies.

SOUND: ELECTRONIC HUM.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I’d done something like this before in the Fortezza, when I was scanning down the Proctor’s test. But this one looked a little more… sophisticated.

The tubing that came out of that thing was like a spider web, crisscrossed and twisted into a pattern so complex I could barely follow it. I tried to trace the line from Pilot’s wrist down into the chair, the floor, and lost it. From their wrist to the chair, and lost it. My head was killing me.

PEREYRA: I’ve already lost half a liter, P.I. Hurry it up!

JUNO (NARRATOR): Then it hit me: the tubing was complicated, but the stuff inside it? Not so much.

SOUND: HAPPY THEIA BEEP.

THEIA: Request received. Activating heat scanner.

JUNO (NARRATOR): And then I saw it: Pilot’s blood, flowing down the piping into the floor below. It had already begun to collect inside a canister down there – and that was my clue. The canister was small, already half-filled. And if I strained, I swore I could just barely make out the writing on the side.

PEREYRA: One liter! Move it, P.I.!

JUNO: It holds one-point-five liters! The thing can only hold one-point-five liters, Pilot, so stop it there!

PEREYRA: Finally.

SOUND: BEEPS.

(PANTING)

PIRANHA: You alright, Pereyra?

PEREYRA: I’m fine. Of course I’m fine. They wouldn’t kill me. I’ve been studying them since I was in training heels. I know what they want. I’m who they’re waiting for. (PANTING) Now come on, Dome. Come to Pilot.

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP. STATIC.

MARSHALL (FROM SPEAKER): ENNNNNNH! Too stingy, neighbor! Now get out.

SOUND: WHIRR. THUD.

PEREYRA: Oof!

MARSHALL (FROM SPEAKER): (CACKLING) I hear it only takes a few months for blood to regenerate. Why not stick around and try again then? Marshall out.

SOUND: STATIC ENDS.

PIRANHA: Big-Eyes.

SOUND: GUN COCKING.

Bandage their arm. Now, see?

STRONG: Uh… right.

PEREYRA: You. P.I.

JUNO: Hey, listen, I told you exactly what I—

PEREYRA: You think you can stop me, don’t you? You think one dirty trick is gonna stop Pilot Pereyra from getting to the Free Dome. From getting what I’ve been working at for forty. Years.

(SPITS) What do you know about real work? You got picked up by Ramses O’Flaherty! I could choke you with all the silver spoons you’ve got crammed in your mouth!

JUNO: What?! Wait, h-how did you know—

STRONG: You’ve been working for who?

PEREYRA: Of course I know who you work for. I know everyone who gets in my way. I don’t care who you are, but I know you work for Ramses, and that makes you a threat. But I’ve dealt with bigger fish than you. I’ve been doing it since I was ten years old, the first time I caught one of those Verificationist streams. A dream, they called it. Kid’s stuff. But I knew. I knew a city that could take everything from you in a second couldn’t be all there was. That there had to be something better.

STRONG: That’s… sweet?

PEREYRA: And I knew I was going to find that best place, and I was going to sell it to the highest bidder, and nobody could ever take anything from me ever again.

STRONG: Less sweet.

JUNO: Listen, Pilot, I’m not gonna say I’m on your side, ‘cause I’m definitely, like, the opposite of that, but it’s not like I had anything—

PEREYRA: Have you been listening to a word I’ve said? You got in my way. Now I use you. Squeeze every last drop I can get out of you. And then… you die on Pilot’s time.

(CHUCKLES) You. Put him in the chair.

JUNO: What?

PIRANHA: (LAUGHS) Now you’re talkin’ my language! C’mere, P.I.—

STRONG: You don’t touch him or I’ll—

PEREYRA: Or you’ll nothing.

SOUND: GUN COCKING.

You’re gonna keep bandaging me, and that’s all you’re gonna do, unless you want the inside of your skull to know what a laser feels like.

What are you waiting for? I want you to strap him in and tell that thing to take as much blood as it wants. Take all of it. Take more.

PIRANHA: You heard the mayor. Let’s strap you in, eh? (GRUNTS)

JUNO: Oof!

SOUND: WHIRRING. BUTTON CLICKS.

PIRANHA: There we go.

JUNO: Let me go, damn it! Let me… wow, you’re strong.

PEREYRA: Stop squirming or I kill her, and it’ll be all your fault. (CHUCKLES) And I know you can’t stand that thought, can you? That’s why you’re working for Ramses. Idealist suckers always run in packs. (LAUGHS)

PIRANHA: (BIG, LONG LAUGH)

PEREYRA: (CLEARS THROAT) Buddy.

Buddy! It wasn’t that funny!

PIRANHA: Oh, I think you’re sellin’ yourself short, Pilot.

PEREYRA: Just activate the chair, already.

PIRANHA: You got it!

Lessee, here… howsabout a little exam, see?

SOUND: DRILL WHIRRING.

Let’s call it… Biology 101.

JUNO: What…? Wh-what did you say?

PIRANHA: How many liters of blood does the human body got? Is the answer A, one liter…

SOUND: BEEP. ALARM BEEPS.

JUNO: Aghh! Knock it off. What are you trying to pull?

SOUND: BUBBLING.

PIRANHA: B, two liters…

SOUND: BEEP.

STRONG: (GROWLS)

JUNO: Agghhh!

PIRANHA: C, two point five liters…

SOUND: BEEPS.

JUNO: (PAINED GROANS)

PEREYRA: That’s more like it.

PIRANHA: Or D…

SOUND: BEEPS.

…all of the above.

JUNO: (PAINED GROANS)

STRONG: God damn it, this is cruel!

PIRANHA: I know.

JUNO (NARRATOR): You know… I’ve had plenty of times when I wanted to go out exactly like this. Fighting some big evil, burning up in a blaze of glory. Hell, I’d tried to pull it seven months ago, even if it didn’t take. So I was used to the feeling that was supposed to come next.

Resignation. The thought that, hell, what’s it matter? You can’t know you’re dead if you’re dead. You can’t know the world’s gone to hell, either. You can’t tell anything, and there’s peace in that.

But not this time. This time I didn’t hear that voice telling me it’d all be easier if I just let it happen. Instead I got pissed.

THEIA: Scanning potential escape routes.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I was mad. Real mad, mad at the Piranha, at Pilot, at Marshall D’Arc, at Peter Nureyev, at death itself. And I wasn’t gonna die this angry. I wasn’t.

The Piranha knew something she wasn’t telling me, and she was loving it, and I couldn’t die until I knew what it was. Strong was stuck with these two maniacs, and I couldn’t die until we’d done our work together. Ramses was still up there, campaigning his old heart out, and I couldn’t die until I saw the city he’d build. And Sarah Steel was in her coffin and in my blood, and I couldn’t die until I proved to everyone that I was better than her.

MUSIC: STARTS.

THEIA: Caution: blood loss detected at. Critical levels. Recommended course of action: give up.

JUNO: What?

THEIA: —control. Temporarily. To the Theia Spectrum.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I was woozy. The world was going gray. I strained against the armrests, looked everywhere I could for some kind of way out, but… I was stuck.

THEIA: User permissions needed to enact escape protocol with highest chance of success. Do I have your permission. User Juno Steel?

JUNO: (QUIETLY) You’ve got whatever permissions you want. Just don’t let me die!

PIRANHA: Muttering to himself! Blood leaves the brain first, see?

THEIA: Permissions received. Enacting escape protocol. For your safety, user muscular control has been. Temporarily deactivated.

SOUND: POWERING DOWN.

JUNO (NARRATOR): There was an electric pulse, spreading from my eye socket, and suddenly, I couldn’t move.

I was breathing, my heart was beating, I could still feel everything. But my arms and legs were locked in place, stiff as wood.

SOUND: HEARTBEAT.

THEIA: Increasing blood flow to source of blood loss. Accelerating heart rate. Do not. Relax.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I felt like I was spinning into a whirlpool, getting flushed down some great celestial toilet. I strained as hard as I could, but I couldn’t fight my own muscles. I was frozen from the inside out. My vision began to fade.

PEREYRA: Goodnight, buddy. You’re a real hero. (CHUCKLES)

THEIA: Do not. Relax. I repeat. Do not. Relax.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I didn’t want to die. I still had things to do. I’d hurt too many people and I hadn’t done enough good to justify it yet. I didn’t want to die.

And then, somewhere in the distance, I heard this:

SOUND: DING. HEARTBEAT STOPS.

PEREYRA: What?

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP. STATIC.

MARSHALL (FROM SPEAKER): Congratulations. You’re a very generous idiot. Here’s the Dome… and here’s your blood back, weirdo.

Just do me a favor: if you feel like you’re gonna bite the big one, show yourself out, alright? We’re already behind schedule without cleaning up your carcass. Marshall out.

SOUND: STATIC ENDS. BUBBLING.

PEREYRA: Just where do you think you’re going?

MUSIC: ENDS.

STRONG: To check if he’s alive. The human body wasn’t exactly built for high-speed dialysis.

PEREYRA: You can check in a minute. Help me up.

STRONG: He just lost nearly half his blood.

PEREYRA: Help me up now or I’ll make it stay lost.

STRONG: …Fine.

PEREYRA: Good. Now bring me to him. I want that.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): My head swam. I felt the machine pumping warmth into me. I felt another pulse from my eye socket.

SOUND: HAPPY THEIA BEEP.

THEIA: User muscle control. Reactivated. Thank you for using the Theia Spectrum.

PEREYRA: That’s more like it. I think this day is finally turning around. (CHUCKLES) The Dome… it’s in my hands. I always knew it would be one day. And now… (LAUGHS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): Strong pulled out her bandages and leaned in to me. When the machine finished recycling my blood, she started wrapping cloth around my arm – and when she leaned in close enough, she whispered:

STRONG: (QUIETLY) I’m proud of you, Steel.

JUNO: Why?

STRONG: You didn’t die. You didn’t let go. And that’s the hardest thing there is.

Nice work, P.I.

JUNO: (MOANS)

STRONG: What was that?

JUNO: Undercrows… why?

STRONG: Shh. We probably only have a second before they catch on.

MUSIC: STARTS.

Each of the D’Arcs said they saw something that was extinct before they were born. I don’t hold much stock in signs that say “Beware of Dinosaur,” either.

JUNO: But… why?

STRONG: You know what being under all this radioactive sand too long does to you? Drives you crazy. Makes you see things.

JUNO: But the Dome’s real… Pilot’s got it.

STRONG: Pilot’s got something.

But… nothing down here’s been that easy. And I don’t know, Juno. If they were hallucinating these extinct predators… how long were they down here for? And what else did they hallucinate?

JUNO (NARRATOR): I looked over her shoulder at Pilot, glowing like a demigod in the light of that Dome. And suddenly I got it stuck in my head again: “In Polaris Park, nothing is as it seems.”

That thought made my skin crawl. Because every person Juno Steel has ever been, the P.I., the cop, the punk who asked too many questions, they’ve always been about figuring out what things really are: pulling off the mask and seeing the face underneath. But here, this lost city beneath the sands, this secret tech, this runaway mayor and their gangster – I felt like I’d been pulling off masks for months and I still didn’t know if I was at the face yet.

Just got to keep pulling, I thought. We were close, now, close to what had to be the end… and I was going to see the truth of this mystery if it killed me.

MUSIC: ENDS.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actors Joshua Ilon, Kat Buckingham, and Simon Moody, and co-creator Sophie Kaner:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

SOPHIE: (LAUGHING) Looking back—

JOSHUA: Benzaiten.

SOPHIE: —I did not put enough weight on that cartoon that I hadn’t been aware of.

SOUND: LAUGHTER.

KAT: My, I wasn’t involved with the writing of this, so my biggest regret, for this episode, is that his nickname isn’t Bent. Bent Steel.

JOSHUA: Oh.

KAT: That’s what I want.

SOUND: GROANS.

SIMON: Oh, come on.

KAT: What? Nobody else was thinking it?

SIMON: (LAUGHING) That’s so good!

SOPHIE: And, we get to learn one more thing about Ben, that we didn’t get to know before…

JOSHUA: He’s a Taurus.

SOUND: LAUGHTER.

And so is Juno, ‘cause they’re twins!

SOPHIE: They’re twins!

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Vron, Charlie Spiegel, Minchowski, Jaimie Gunter, and the Princess and the Scrivener for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Promised Land, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Kat Buckingham as Alessandra Strong, Simon Moody as Mayor Pilot Pereyra, Sophie Kaner as the Piranha, Noah Simes as Peter Nureyev, and Kiki Samko as Sarah Steel.

This tale also featured: Lauren Shippen of The Bright Sessions as Erin Marshall D’Arc, Zach Valenti of Wolf 359 as Marshall Erin D’Arc, and Rich Wentworth of Hadron Gospel Hour as the mysterious voice in the walls.

On staff at The Penumbra: Kevin Vibert is our lead writer and recording engineer. Sophie Kaner is our director and sound designer. Grahame Turner is our script editor. Noah Simes is our production manager. Alice Chung is our designer and financial manager. Kat Buckingham is our publicity director. Original music by Ryan Vibert. Promotional art by Mikaela Buckley.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION Season 1 ♫ “Black, The Color of Techies Scorned...” [ 1.07 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows)

YOU SAY YOU WANT A REVOLUTION – Fed up with their treatment, the techies fight back… by doing absolutely nothing. Attempts to mediate go sour when Farkle and Isadora can’t relinquish control. Riley makes an effort to break the strike, but it may be her who gets broken instead.

50 Minutes (10K words) || No warnings apply.

[ ← Stripped ] [ S1 Synopsis ] [ These Boots Aren’t Made For Dancing → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

With acoustic week concluded and the performers back in full intensity mode, the techies find themselves hard-pressed to keep up with their demands. Over a buzzy, intense acapella, the sophomore performers throw every task imaginable at them with limited patience and even more limited gratitude.

DAVE WILLIAMS is running back and forth backstage with NATE MARTINEZ and DYLAN ORLANDO, attempting to play runner and keep up with everyone’s needs. Dave makes a pointed effort to avoid going near the curtains. JADE BEAMON is in another heated discussion with MAYA HART, CHAI FRESCO, and DARBY WINTERS – that is to say, they’re heated and full of opinions and she’s just trying not to get overwhelmed and start crying.

ISADORA DE LA CRUZ is marching around the stage, trying to get ZAY BABINEAUX or CHARLIE GARDNER to pay attention to her and get the performers to cool it, but they’ve got their own projects to focus on and aren’t very receptive. JEFF MONROE is jogging along to keep up with her, nearly getting clocked in the face by her clipboard when she tosses her arms out in frustration.

FARKLE MINKUS doesn’t help matters.

Isadora: Does anyone around here have a damn shred of decorum?

Farkle: Wow, poor little director. Is this really too overwhelming? Doing the basic expectations of your job?

Isadora: Don’t patronize me, Minkus, you don’t want to see what this “little” director is capable of.

It’s not a very threatening statement in theory, but the way Isadora delivers it gets the point across. Farkle isn’t deterred, but he’s smart enough to back off for now while he’s still ahead.

While they’re running themselves thin, RILEY MATTHEWS watches from the sidelines. She discusses stepping in to help with NIGEL CHEY and YINDRA AMINO, considering they are the three performers with the most technical experience. Riley points out that Lucas was supposed to be back by now. It’s Tuesday, and he was supposed to be back on Monday, but for whatever reason he’s still nowhere to be found.

Yindra claims he’s probably just blowing it off, and WYATT LIVINGSTON, back from his own suspension and clearly not over the bad blood, asks why they should give a shit anyway. He can stay gone for all he cares. Riley holds her tongue as he stalks back into the shadows of backstage, before jogging out to join Isadora.

When she asks if she’s okay Isadora doesn’t even have the bandwidth for a response, and when she asks where exactly Lucas is she’s like “you tell me!” The whole sequence is chaos, and it serves to prove just how hard the techies work on a day-to-day basis and how quickly expectations can pile up on them. The tension doesn’t come to an end until SHAWN HUNTER and ANGELA MOORE call time and dismiss them for lunch, all of the air immediately coming out of the balloon. As the performers disperse, the techies are left dazed and exhausted center stage, sort of at a loss for what to do.

The moment they stop, the whole machine stops running…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Riley steps out with Charlie and Zay, the three of them commentating on how intense it’s gotten in there. Not just content wise, but between everyone. Kind of almost feels like there’s no room to breathe. Riley says it’s funny they say that as if it’s not always like that.

Zay: [ with a blithe shrug ] Welcome to Adams.

EXT. AAA - DAY

Suffice to say, we can tell there’s a big storm coming. The winds of change are imminent, and from the way a familiar pair of big black boots are stomping up the steps towards the school, it may very well be en route in the form of a very grumpy and very sarcastic hurricane.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

The boots continue to make their trek through the halls, squeaking against the pristine floors of AAA and leaving dust in their wake. Over the visuals, the techies discuss how exhausted they are and how they don’t know how they’re going to keep up the rest of the year like this. There’s just no way. Especially not without their most aggressive teammate.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Thus, when LUCAS FRIAR walks through the house doors of the auditorium at the late lunch hour and finds his usual crew crashed in the back seats, he is immediately accosted by Dave who tackles him with a bear hug.

Dave: Thank God you’re back, we’re dying!

Lucas takes the hit, allowing Dave to hold onto him like a life preserver. His expression conveys how weird this display of affection is for him, and when he locks eyes with the rest of them over Dave’s shoulder the message is clear – what the fuck?

Baby, let the games begin.

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The techies have resettled on the stage, standing and sitting around in a semi-circle as they relay how hellish the last week and a half have been. They don’t think it’s just because he was gone either – the performers treatment towards them is just rotting more and more with time because they’re not learning any differently.

Lucas paces as ASHER GARCIA explains the last day and a half in particular, shaking his head at how bad things have gotten in his absence. Asher lays it out point blank – no one respects them, no one listens to them, and no one really cares about what they do. And that’s frustrating, because as Isadora points out, if they weren’t there the entire production would fall apart.

It’s that statement that seems to strike something in Lucas. He hesitates, thinking for a moment. Yes, things would fall apart if they were to stop showing up the way they always do… the wheels in his head are turning…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Thnks Fr Th Mmrs” as performed by Fall Out Boy || Performed by AAA Sophomore Techies

Asher syncs with his brain wave first, gleaning some of that inherent rebellious energy and launching into the opening verse of the classic angry rock anthem. Dylan joins in at the end of the phrase, leaning over Asher’s shoulder and bumping him playfully.

Lucas doesn’t sing – because, come on now – but he doesn’t discourage them either, raising an eyebrow and smirking as he continues to pace. Still clearly brewing with ideas. As the other techies start to get on board and get the vibe of what might be going on, the tension in the music builds. Oh, yes, Lucas is back, and the world is never going to be the same…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Thus, the techies burst through the stage doors and into the school, belting out the chorus with a true power that only comes from not giving a fuck anymore. They’re done, they’ve had it, and they’re not taking anymore bullshit. It’s a rare sight to see the techies doing any sort of group effort that remotely resembles performing, even in such a loose arrangement, but gee is it fun.

Lucas and Isadora lead the charge through the halls. The group of them are a tornado, leaving chaos and shock in their wake. The choreography is simple but energetic, exactly the kind of thing you’d expect from a march of protest thrown together in a bout of restless, rebellious energy. Dave knocks a binder out of Wyatt’s hands. You get the idea.

Reaction shots of the performers watching them as they parade through the halls makes it very clear how unprecedented this is. Isadora takes the solo on the slightly slower bridge, before we bring it on home with a flourish.

So it’s settled. The techies are officially revolting.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

This, as expected, does not go over well from first glance. Lucas is back in Jack’s office once again, which the latter is clearly none too happy about.

Lucas, on the other hand, looks pretty pleased with himself. He looks a little too comfortable sitting in that chair opposite the principal’s desk, as if its his to own. He’s relaxed, slouched and outwardly agreeable and not the least bit worried.

Jack: It’s been an hour. You’ve been back for an hour, and yet you’re here across from me yet again. [ off Lucas’s shrug ] You realize you were supposed to come back… yesterday, right?

Lucas: Oh, yeah. But I was having such a good time having Dora nag me over missed homework and being ignored by my parents that I thought, you know, how about another day.

The sarcasm aside, Jack jumps to the subject at hand and questions what exactly Lucas thinks he’s doing getting all of his classmates riled up like this. Getting himself into trouble is one thing, but pulling everyone into such a scene?

Lucas: [ with a scoff ] As if the performers don’t make a scene out of everything every single day?

Jack tries to argue the point, but Lucas is on a roll. He states that this has been a long time coming, and they all know it. He’s no leader – he would never claim that – he’s simply the spark. It’s his friends’ anger running this engine, not him.

True as this may be, Jack is stuck between a rock and a hard place. Although he gets where Lucas is coming from, he can’t just openly condone a full on rebellion.

Lucas: So suspend me. You’ve done it once, you could do it again. But you know, I don’t think you will.

Jack: And why’s that?

Lucas: Because you and I both know that we’re in the right here. No one cares about the technical students working their asses off, and we’re sick of it. It’s just like academics, constantly taking the back seat. Only now, we’re saying not anymore.

Jack really is running out of arguments. And it’s clear from how impassioned Lucas is that he’s certainly not putting down the sword any time soon. The only thing worse than a rebel without a cause is a rebel with one.

Lucas: This is how all great rebellions begin, Principal Hunter, sir. I think you’ll want to be on the right side of triple A history. [ Rising to stand. ] It’s like they say, you know. “If we burn, you burn with us.” That’s classic literature, right?

Jack, deadpan: The Hunger Games.

Lucas: Same difference.

Lucas turns to go. Jack gives him a look, scoffing.

Jack: I didn’t dismiss you!

Lucas, already out the door: [ with an offhand wave ] We’ll see each other soon enough, I’m sure.

Jack sighs, rubbing his temples. He glances towards the door where Lucas left, wondering how much trouble this week is going to cause. But also wondering, a little bit, if maybe his most difficult student is on to something. As the orchestration of “Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)” floats in…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)” as performed by Hamilton Original Broadway Cast || Instrumental

Meanwhile, rehearsal without the techies is, of course, much harder than the performers ever realized. They’re attempting to practice the choreography for “Yorktown,” which Zay has been fighting for them to do for weeks and finally succeeded in getting into the syllabus. But there’s no good lighting, and they’re all just in their usual workout clothes because no one has presented costume ideas. They’re playing the music off of someone’s phone because they don’t know how to work the overhead speakers and no one has been in communication with the orchestra students.

Naturally, the performers are very frustrated with this state of affairs. After unsuccessfully running through the number and ending with Farkle running into Maya and nearly knocking half of them over, Zay snaps at them to get it right. Farkle claims he couldn’t hear the beat because their current sound system is garbage. Impatiently, all of them turn their attention to the audience.

The techies are sprawled out leisurely in the front and center section of seats, well within plain view but making no efforts to do… anything. Isadora is sketching storyboards for a short film. Lucas has his feet up on the back of the row in front of him, arms stretched behind his head.

Zay: Hey, techies, pardonne-moi. [ off their amused expressions ] Yeah, hi. Could you all get up here and maybe, I don’t know… do your jobs?

Lucas: I don’t know… I don’t really feel like it.

Maya: Who the hell let you back in here? Honestly.

This sparks a group-wide argument, both sides of the feud stepping up and launching into complaints about the other half. Choice words are thrown in either direction, but it’s also a little bit funny.

Dylan: You don’t even know our names!

Farkle: Sure I do. [ pointing to Asher ] Thing 1. [ pointing to Dylan ] Thing 2. [ pointing to Lucas, with vitriol ] Jackass –

The snaps continue until Shawn and Angela come to break them up, sending them to separate work spaces until the end of the day. The techies don’t seem miffed at all by this change of pace, but the performers are ticked. Riley watches all of them disperse, eyeing the new tension and bristling with the urge to make it right…

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Which she states the minute she’s in ERIC MATTHEWS’ office after school. She tries to get the read on what’s going on from him while expressing her own perspective, all while trying not to be too openly clear on what may be motivating her. Sure, she wants the angst at school to cease for once, but she’s also still reeling with the news of her parents and desperately needs to fix something. To put something back in the order the way it’s supposed to be.

Eric states that according to Jack, this problem isn’t going to just go away. It’s going to take both sides coming to the table to make this nonsense come to an end, a proposition that feels downright impossible. Riley though is like, okay, workable. Off Eric’s surprised reaction, she hastily begins throwing out her reasoning. Speaking it into existence, as if that will guarantee it to be true.

Riley: Really, I think I can make it happen. At least getting everyone to the table. I’m good friends with Isa now, and Lucas and I…

[ She’s not sure how exactly to describe the two of them. She hesitates, searching for the words. ]

Riley: We dabble. In one another. Now and then.

Eric: [ confused and a little bit wary ] And that means…?

[ A beat. Riley realizes the odd ways her phrasing could be construed. ]

Riley: Never mind! Never mind, I don’t know what I’m saying. But the point is, I can fix it. Let me fix it.

Still seems like a long shot, but Eric isn’t going to turn down assistance. He grants her the best of luck, willing her to do whatever she thinks needs to be done. Riley exhales, brimming with confidence that only a new found purpose can bring.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Only this task is going to be much easier said than done. As Riley tries to go and have a neutral chat with the techies the next morning, she finds herself completely barred from their usual hangout in the back of the auditorium. They’re hidden away in the booth, and Dylan and Dave are blocking the stairs like the royal guard.

The two of them explain that there has been an embargo placed on all techie and performer relations. No communication allowed. Riley points out that that seems somewhat counterintuitive to negotiations, but Dave and Dylan are adamant.

Riley: But I’m your friend?

Dave: NO EXCEPTIONS!

Perhaps this operation will be a little more complicated than anticipated.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Farkle is back in his worst form, demonstrating his obsessive and diva-like tendencies in an argument with Angela. He laments how the techies clearly aren’t doing their one job, and it’s totally screwing up his world order. Can’t they do something about this? There has to be something. Like threat of expulsion. Or corporal punishment.

It’s evident that Farkle is certainly going to be the most difficult performer to convince that techies like… deserve rights. Angela claims that she understands his frustration, especially given current circumstances. But she is not the person he should be negotiating with, and has no power over what the technical students do or don’t do.

Farkle makes a snide comment about how she likely has some pull with Shawn considering how that has developed over the last few months, but he makes a quick escape before Angela can berate him on it. Despite the rude nature of the statement, he does have a point. Perhaps there is more Angela could be doing…

INT. AAA - CORY’S CLASSROOM - DAY

Riley visits Cory during lunch, as the cafeteria is way too tense to enjoy a meal in right now. As she pulls up a chair and settles in across from him at his desk, she can’t help but notice what he’s reading through as he eats. Divorce papers.

It’s chilling to see them in actuality, right in front of her. She probes the question of whether or not this is really happening, to which Cory is like “I’m afraid so.” He kind of talks to her about how sometimes things just don’t work out no matter how badly you want them to – also attempting to give a pep talk to himself – but Riles doesn’t get the intended message.

No, she’s in repair mode at the moment, so all she can glean from the conversation is that she needs to work even harder to make things run right. She needs to dig her heels in and fight until everything is back in order and back in control, and all of that is on her shoulders. Riles… take a nap, honey.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

AAA Confessions is back for more, featuring a post about Lucas for the first time. It essentially gripes over how bullshit it is that Lucas can get away with so much and still continue to come back and do absolutely nothing, before going on a very unkind tangent about how pathetic he is. It’s clearly submitted by Wyatt who has his axe to grind, but it’s harsher than anything the AAAC has ever posted before so it’s not aiding the tension at all.

The techies are examining the post over lunch in the auditorium, nervous about how Lucas is going to react to it. But when he descends from the booth and they show it to him, he doesn’t even blink. Outwardly, he’s cool as a cucumber. He claims he doesn’t care.

Dylan: Are you sure, man? I mean, this is like… brutal.

Lucas: Believe me, when I care about something, you’ll know.

Not sure what the hell that is supposed to mean, but Dave pushes past it anyway. He comments that their revolt is clearly going well, because the performers are miffed. The others agree, but Lucas doesn’t seem satisfied. He argues that they’re going to need to kick it up a notch if they actually want this movement to get any traction.

Isadora, smart as she is, suggests that they give the performers a taste of their own medicine. When Lucas prompts her to elaborate, she simply states that part of the reason it’s so easy for them to ignore their hard work is because they’ve never had a pinch of what it’s like to be on the other side of the apathy. Now this, this sounds interesting…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

And thus, the techies do exactly that. At the next rehearsal for “Yorktown,” the performers struggle to work their way through another fumbling rendition. In the midst of the number, while they’re all crashed in the seats, Lucas and Isadora exchange a nod before getting up and gesturing for the others to do so as well. It’s a technician walk-out.

Farkle is the first to notice, immediately being torn from the rehearsal and focusing on them instead. He marches to the front of the stage, demanding where the hell they think they’re going.

The techies stop in the middle of the aisle, turning around and feigning surprise.

Lucas: Who, us?

Maya: Yes, you. What the hell are you doing?

Isadora: Oh, well, we were just leaving. Actually.

Charlie: [ stunned ] Leaving? You can’t do that. They can’t do that, right?

Lucas: Oh, it’s so funny, because I think we are. I mean, my legs are working, at least.

Isadora: Yeah, you all clearly don’t need us. So I think we have better things we could be doing with our time.

They continue to head towards the exit. Angela watches them go, getting the sense that this problem is only going to get worse. Farkle snaps, obviously stressed at this turn of events.

Farkle: You can’t ditch us! Who is going to put all this shit together?

Isadora: Think you can handle it. It is just one job, after all.

Zay: But we don’t know how –

Dave: Sucks for you, huh?

The techies laugh, parading out of the auditorium with Lucas leading the march. The performers are clearly pissed. Riley watches them exit, shell-shocked and already grappling with how she’s going to fix this new development.

INT. AAA - SHAWN’S OFFICE - DAY

Angela enters Shawn’s office in a flurry, immediately launching into an impassioned explanation as to how this current state of affairs is not good for any of them and they must work together to find a solution on how to fix it. Shawn, to her relief, is completely on board, gesturing for her to take the chair across from him. She sighs, relaxing and settling in. This may be easier than she thought.

Only not quite so. Because while Angela was expecting him to just go along with her and get things to go back to the way they were, Shawn believed that Angela came to brainstorm how to improve the situation and meet in the middle. Shawn is on the side of his students, here, and isn’t just going throw them back under the bus.

The discussion quickly spirals into an argument, both of them clearly operating on behalf of their own students. It brews up some old resentment between the two of them that remains untreated based on how they view one another’s students – and in theory, one another – making them question if rekindling their relationship is actually the best idea. What are they even doing? Are they destined to fall right back into the same traps all over again?

The conversation deflates from the anger, but ends on uncertain terms. And no progress is made in the negotiations for either side. The two of them agree that in this instance, they might need a neutral outside party to step in and help mediate.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

So Shawn and Angela go straight to Eric. They lay out the situation, which of course he already knows, and ask for him to step in and do some peer counseling. Eric heartily agrees, but considering the scale of this issue, it’s going to take more than just the sit-down-and-chat approach. No, they’re going to need to get creative to solve this problem.

Luckily, he has just the technique.

EXT. AAA - REAR PARKING LOT - DAY

Eric hands a loaded water balloon to Zay, who stares down at it and then gives him a look.

Zay: Paintball?

Eric: Not paintball. Paint balloon.

As we ease out, the scale of the event becomes clear – all of the students have changed into plain clothes, and are wearing pseudo tactical vests as if they’re playing paintball. Only they’re using balloons filled with paint instead of guns, because this is America and even the thought of gun paraphernalia on school property… bad. But balloons! Very fun.

The students are standing on opposite sides of the stretch of parking lot, old set pieces and cardboard having been set up as obstacles and coverage. To start, they’ve been mixed into groups at random rather than along techie / performer lines. As Eric explains it, the goal is for them to engage in a competitive activity that will encourage them to work together towards a common goal with people they don’t normally work with, and get out their aggression in a safe and controlled fashion.

The rules are simple – the team to survive with the least paint-covered member once everyone else has been hit is the victor.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Come Out and Play (Keep ‘Em Separated)” as performed by The Offspring || Performed by Zay Babineaux & Charlie Gardner

Zay and Charlie perform this grungy track while working together to survive the war, serving to underscore the duration of the sequence. They fist bump to kick off the song, before the paint balloon battle begins.

Although the intent behind the mission is good, the concept doesn’t execute well if the players aren’t fully on board. Despite being given distinct teams, the war quickly falls back into party lines, the performers ganging up on the techies while the techies fight to hold their own. They’re heavily outnumbered, but they’re angry and ready to fight back. Let the real games begin!

Students on both sides get lobbed with paint, making for some fun and colorful slow-motion shots. Maya tries to protect her hair as she avoids blows, but one splatters her right across the face anyway. Farkle gets cornered by techies and gets hit with a barrage of paint, totally smothering him in neon pinks, yellows, and blues. Poor, poor little rich boy.

Zay and Charlie actually work impressively well together as a tactical team. They move back-to-back, cover one another, and make calls just through nods or vague gestures. They’re the key offensive force on the performer side, basically getting a hit in on every single techie throughout and making their win seem inevitable.

Considering the numbers game, the techies are getting throttled. Isadora, already covered in paint but not out of the war, takes out her rage by throwing paint at as many passing performers as she can possibly manage with a war cry that would make Athena herself proud.

The one factor they have going for them is Lucas. Dave and Asher basically act as human shields for him, allowing him to navigate the field and get hits in on anyone who Isadora didn’t already pummel with paint. There’s some wonderfully dramatic slow-motion shots of Dylan leaping into the air in front of Lucas to take a paint balloon straight to the chest… oh, the war-torn drama…

So while the performers have the sheer numbers, it’s clear that the technicians have a greater understanding of how they operate as a team. So they may just take this victory in an upset yet.

The factor keeping the performers going is Riley. She’s not particularly good at the paint throwing, but she’s an expert at dodging and just trying to stay out of trouble, mostly because she’s scared of getting hit. So it essentially whittles down to her and Lucas being the only two left dry and paint-free, meaning any one hit could toss the victory in one team’s favor.

As the battle reaches its climax, it comes down to one moment between Riley and Lucas. They run into one another at the center of the lot, the paint carnage all around them in a wonderful, grisly display of color. Lucas is loaded with two balloons, and Riley has none to defend herself with. They lock eyes, Riley’s wide and uncertain.

For all intents and purposes, this seems like the endgame. In a normal situation, in the old way of the world, Lucas wouldn’t hesitate. But it’s Riley, and she’s been changing the world since she showed up at AAA. So, for whatever reason, he does.

All it takes is that fleeting second of hesitation to flip the stakes. The tension between Riley and Lucas is shattered as he gets hit on both sides, one balloon landing on his torso and the other getting him in the face and splattering blue paint all over him. A final kill maneuver, executed expertly by Zay and Charlie from both sides.

And so the techies lose the battle. The performers erupt into cheers, patting one another on the back and touting their victory. The techies, frustrated and upset, glower. Dylan pulls Asher to his side, trying to get the paint out of his hair. Zay yanks Charlie into a victory hug, and Charlie just about has an aneurysm.

Lucas blinks, reaching up to wipe the paint from his eyes. Riley is mortified, starting to stammer out breathless apologies in utter horror. She reaches forward in an effort to wipe paint from his face… only Maya pulls her back and into celebrating with the other performers.

In an unexpected outburst, Jade is the first to snap on behalf of the techies. Considering her usually mousy and shy demeanor, this is relatively shocking.

Jade: This isn’t fair! We weren’t even supposed to be playing along these teams, but they just did whatever they wanted like they always do and won yet again.

Dave: This is bullshit!

Maya: Oh, come on, guys. You don’t have to be a sore loser.

Isadora: Oh, you wanna be sore? I’ll give you sore –

Dylan and Asher dart forward to hold Isadora back and keep this from escalating into a full-on brawl. Angela and Shawn sense the impending eruption and basically send each team somewhere different to clean up, the techies staying outside while the performers retreat to the dressing rooms.

They turn to Eric, who is clearly bummed his technique didn’t work. But hey, he tried his best. He offers them a plaintive shrug. Back to square one…

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

The girls revel in their victory as they clean paint off of themselves, laughing about how badly they creamed the techies and how nice it felt to finally just let loose on them. Riley doesn’t find the conversation amusing, and actually speaks up against the rhetoric. She claims that they just made everything worse, so congratulations. She hopes they’re really pleased with themselves.

But now, she has to clean up their mess. She storms out, still covered in paint. The others watch her go, sort of laughing awkwardly at the tirade but with the lingering sense of doubt that maybe she isn’t wrong.

INT. AAA - BACK ENTRANCE - DAY

Riley heads towards the back parking lot to find Lucas and Isadora, hoping for another chance to talk things through with them without all the colorful warfare. She spots the techies just outside the building cleaning up, starting to head towards the doors to join them but hesitating when she gets a better look.

Dylan is using the heavy duty hose to clean off Dave and Asher, but Riley is focused on Lucas and Isadora. They’re seated on the benches closer to the doors, and Isadora is painstakingly working to wipe the paint off of Lucas’s face.

It could be nothing, just pals being pals, but after everything Riley has observed between the two of them and how Isadora is willingly touching his face to help him clean up she’s like… okay. I’m clearly inserting myself in something I shouldn’t be. I don’t belong out there. What am I even doing? It’s nothing, all this is nothing…

But it doesn’t feel like nothing. And emotions are high because tensions are high, so the revelation sort of feels like the end of the world.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Cry And You Cry Alone” as performed by Lesley Gore || Performed by Riley Matthews

As Riley saunters away from them and back down the hall, she dejectedly sings the 50s crooner while trying to keep her emotions in check and not overreact. But she’s a theater kid, and being melodramatic is in her bones.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

She makes her way through the halls, lamenting how foolish she was to let herself get close to the techies, especially Lucas, when he’s evidently so much trouble – for everyone else and for her heart. The whole thing is even more endearing and ridiculous considering she’s still paint-splattered.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

As the song progresses and the other sophomore performers take over the chorus, it’s a brand new day. Everyone is clean but not in much better spirits. Riley sits on the edge of the stage and watches forlornly as Isadora and Lucas work together to scheme with the techies. So close, and yet so far away.

Rounding out the final chorus, Riley falls back onto the stage and stares up at the catwalk and lights above her, inviting the world to laugh with her rather than cry alone as the song states. Oh, Riles, you wonderful little dramatic hooligan.

Although Shawn has managed to wrangle the tech students back into the theater for class, it’s not much of a better scenario than before. Now they’ve taken to heckling, making the divide between them far more pronounced than before. Given how cynical and grumpy they are on the daily, they make excellent hecklers.

Lucas: Boo, get off the stage!

Riley: [ whipping around, giving him a glare ]

Lucas: (:

Isadora makes a snide comment and Farkle is about ready to pop off, launching into a fit and starting to rattle off some not-so-nice things. Maya pulls him away and gets him to back off, redirecting his focus and trying to keep the whole situation from imploding. It’s a vivid indication of how Farkle reacts when he feels like he’s being unfairly persecuted and put under pressure… noted. Maya declares they’re taking five.

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

All the performers are assembled in the space, sans Nigel, Yindra, and Riley. While they embark on a potential quest of their own, the rest of them vent freely about how unfair this whole situation is and how overdramatic the techies are being. And they think they’re melodramatic, well, they’re certainly proving their own ability to be so.

Zay is done with the theatrics, weirdly irritated at the whole group of them. He snaps at all of them, stating everyone is being dramatic and it’s so stupid, because all they’re doing is wasting rehearsal time. And of course, it’s the one week where they’re doing a number he actually cares about. He storms out, leaving the room a little bit stunned.

Maya rouses them from the off beat, claiming that this is all part of the journey and they’re going to have to stick together if this drama is going to endure. They’re on the same team, and for once they need to band together and really act like it.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Team” as performed by Lorde || Performed by Maya Hart (feat. AAA Sophomore Performers)

Maya leads the group in a groovy and sharp rendition of the Lorde hit, making for a fun and low-intensity break from the tension of the episode as they dance around in the dressing room together. So, there!

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Dylan and Dave are still gatekeeping as Nigel and Yindra approach – the two performers outside of Riley who dabble in technical arts and thus have a good showing and rapport with them. They claim they have a “meeting,” to which the bodyguards exchange subtle eyebrow raises before backing up to let them through.

Nigel and Yindra exchange a look. Boy, the theatrics. Then, they make their way up the stairs towards the technician’s booth.

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

Lucas and Isadora have set up camp in the booth, using it as their base of operations. Isadora is pacing, Lucas seated in his usual rolling chair by the soundboard. Asher is operating as their secretary, taking notes as they throw out ideas. The others are seated further back into the space.

They cease their discussion as Yindra and Nigel enter, Lucas turning to greet them. They explain that, as medians between the two worlds, they have come to hear what exactly it would take for the techies to come to the table and start figuring out negotiations on how to fix this. It’s chaos, and it’s not doing good for any of them. Lucas starts off playing hard to get.

Lucas: Who said we were interested in ceasefire? I’m kind of enjoying a little bit of chaos. Spices things up. Don’t you think so?

Yindra: You are enjoying this way too much.

Nigel: Yeah, don’t let anybody ever tell you you’re not capable of being theatrical, Friar.

Lucas: (:

Isadora gets the conversation back on track, agreeing to meet with the performers and have a non-confrontational open dialogue – but only if they can get the most important (and demanding) performers to be present. Nigel and Yindra state this is a hefty challenge, but they’ll see what they can do. If it works out, Isadora states, they’ll send details on where and when.

INT. AAA - CAFETERIA - DAY

Yindra and Nigel share this new development with said most demanding performers at lunch. Charlie is all for it, but the actual two in questions – Maya and Farkle – aren’t sold. In fact, Farkle vehemently vetoes the idea. He claims they’re just toying around with them like business deals he’s seen his father have to negotiate, and he’s not taking orders from them.

Maya isn’t convinced either, but she’s also aware of how tired everyone is getting of the tension, herself included. She barters with Farkle that the two of them should just go to at least have the conversation, and they have the right to back out at any time. Farkle considers, but doesn’t give a definitive answer.

Nigel: Remind me when it was that I dropped out of high school and entered a courtroom drama? Because I don’t recall making that decision.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Riley has forfeited her lunch hour to take one last crack at getting her own negotiation in, finally able to catch Lucas alone. She follows him through the stage doors and onto the stage, pleading her own case and attempting to appeal to his softer side in an effort to call off the strike. She knows it exists, she’s seen it before, she just has to figure out how to elicit it from underneath all that anger.

He humors her as he makes his way down the stage and towards the back of the auditorium, tidying up small details as he goes. It’s clear that even with the current strike in progress, he’s is still instinctively protective of the place.

Riley opens by checking in with how he’s doing after the nasty confessions post about him. When he shrugs it off, she takes the topic opportunity to broach a slightly different subject.

Riley: Just out of curiosity… how, um… how often do you check the page?

Lucas: Never.

Riley: Oh! Oh, that’s great. You know, good for you. That’s good. I just, um, you know it’s said some… interesting things about me lately.

Lucas: Right.

Riley: And I just wanted to clarify that they aren’t, you know, true. The things said. About me. And what I may or may not be doing. Or who I may be – it’s false. It’s not true. All of it. False.

Lucas: … okay.

That awkward exchange aside, Riley plows onward in her mission to end the revolt. She tries to get Lucas to call it off, pointing out he is the one who definitely has the power to make it happen.

Riley: You’re their leader.

Lucas: You’re wrong. That’s Dora.

Riley, diplomatically: I am not one to ever dispute the notion that Isa is amazing, in many aspects. And she may be the face of the operation, but you, you’re the engine. You’re what motivates them.

Lucas hesitates, actually listening to what she has to say. Riley seizes this opportunity, trying to convey as genuinely and passionately as possible just exactly how important he is.

Riley: They look up to you, I mean, you’re the one they march for. They take comfort in you, you inspire them. And that’s certainly not nothing.

Lucas is moved by the speech, despite how good he is at concealing it. And although he acted as though he didn’t care, it does help to combat some of the negative feelings the confessions post instilled in him. Not to mention, Riley is so sincere, and gosh if she isn’t so damn cute… for a moment, it seems like he may be weakening…

But no. He’s not calling off the rebellion.

Lucas: I appreciate the sentiments. But I’m not ending the revolt.

Riley: But –

Lucas: This is our one chance to change things. For us and for all the techies that are going to come through these halls after us. I can’t just give that up. No great moment in history ever happened because the fighting party put up their hands and surrendered.

He steps up to walk past her towards the booth, hesitating on the step below her. Mirroring their stand-off in 1.02, only far softer this time around.

Lucas: I’m sorry, Riley. But I’m not throwing away our shot.

He leaves her there to stew in it, frustrated that she can’t seem fix yet another broken entity in her life. She waits until he’s gone behind the booth, huffing and jogging back down the stairs.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Another One Bites the Dust” as performed by Queen || Instrumental

EXT. AAA - BACK PARKING LOT - NIGHT

The same scene of the battle, the asphalt still splattered with paint residue and eerie in the glow of the street lamps. Maya and Farkle are there, dressed in their best “shady showdown” attire and anxiously peering out into the night. Riley and Charlie are also present. Farkle snaps that they’re late, to which Riley assures him that they’ll be there. She knows they’re not just going to blow this off.

And they do not. A few moments later Lucas and Isadora roll up with Dylan and Asher in tow, hopping out of Dylan’s jeep and making their way towards them. They are also dressed in their black leather best, but the whole situation is like… a little bit ridiculous. Like, it should be really intense and shady, but it’s just them all standing around in the empty school parking lot at 9PM.

Lucas and Isadora step to Farkle and Maya, sizing each other up and trying to figure out how this conversation is supposed to go down. Dylan and Asher mirror Charlie and Riley, hanging back as reinforcements only if needed.

Lucas: What, no Zay?

Charlie: I texted him. He just said… [ reading from his phone ] ‘white nonsense.’

Isadora: Tell him I said offended… but true.

The four of them discuss the problem and their terms, the techies explaining their desire for like… basic decency and a little respect, while the performers have arguments of their own to make. It’s clear from about the first minute in that this meeting of the minds likely isn’t going to go anywhere productive. They’re just too polarized.

While everyone expects Lucas to be the one to blow everything up, it’s actually Isadora who loses her cool and derails the negotiations. She provokes Farkle with snide remarks until he lashes back at her, totally disrupting the limited productivity of the meeting and threatening a full-on scrap if things go any further.

It’s a stalemate, and no negotiations will be made today. The revolution wages on. Riley decides she definitely needs to chat with Isadora, maybe even more so than Lucas.

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

Farkle is up late doing homework, still awake when STUART MINKUS comes home after a long day of work. From the way Farkle perks up when he enters and enthusiastically greets him, it’s clear how much he cares about the attention and approval of his father. In fact, there’s the distinct sense that part of the reason Farkle is so extra at all is because he’s desperate to get the focus of his very busy and very distracted corporate leader of a dad.

Stuart is happy to see him and settles down to chat with him for a moment, but he asks why on Earth he’s still awake. Farkle offhandedly claims that an unexpected meeting pushed back his homework time, and it was somewhat of a waste anyway. After a few brief words, Stuart starts to go but Farkle grasps at a way to keep his attention, asking him for advice.

His dad claims he won’t be much help with the performing stuff, but Farkle lies and claims it’s a… business issue. He then lays out the situation going on at school but in theoretical marketing terms, explaining it like a business negotiation gone awry rather than two sides of the performing arts world going to war. He asks his father how he would handle the situation.

When Stuart expresses that he would take the diplomatic approach and attempt to go to the table to get the best deal for all parties involved, Farkle seems apprehensive. Doesn’t that not end up with the best deal for him? Stuart goes on to explain his business philosophy about how you have placate all parties to get an effective machine running, but it just seems difficult for Farkle to grasp.

Stuart kisses the top of his head in a goodnight gesture, telling him he’s proud of him even though Farkle is sure he couldn’t say what for.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Control” as performed by Halsey || Performed by Farkle Minkus

Not satisfied with how that conversation turned out and not sure why he can’t seem to let go of his perception of the situation anyway, Farkle launches into a haunting and emotional rendition of “Control.” It’s one of the first clear expressions of his… questionable mental health, and displays part of what he’s constantly inadvertently taking out on the techies.

Interesting…

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack has called in Shawn and Angela to discuss how the techie and performer feud is progressing. It’s the end of the week, and he’d like to know what they think is the next necessary step. They claim that both of them are on board to make changes, but they’re worried about the mental ecosystem of some of their… touchier students. That’s what is causing the blockade, and they’re not sure how to navigate it.

As Jack reiterates, they need all parties to be willing to come together for this treatment to be at all effective. He states that they better do it fast, and whenever they’re ready he’ll be here and ready to mediate.

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

The drama continues, the male performers discussing how this whole drama has really lasted an entire week. NICK YOGI wonders if it’s ever going to stop, and Wyatt makes more bitchy commentary about how if they had just expelled Lucas like they should have ages ago, this never would’ve happened.

Zay continues to roll his eyes, fed up with all of the pettiness. He wishes they could just focus back on rehearsal. He excuses himself pointedly, Farkle hesitating before deciding to investigate and following him out.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Farkle traces Zay’s footsteps to the behind the curtain area of the back of the stage. Zay is practicing the routine by himself, clearly passionate about it even though it got totally derailed by the week’s events.

Understanding at least the notion of using rehearsal as an emotional escape, Farkle approaches Zay and tries to get him to talk about what his attitude is all about. He questions why he blew up at the rest of the performers the other day, to which Zay is like, you? Asking me about diva meltdowns? Please. Farkle admits his own proclivity for theatrics, but points out that Zay isn’t like that. In fact, he is usually looking at down at them from a high horse because of it.

Zay avoids the topic at first, before breaking somewhat and admitting that part of the reason he gets so irritated with Farkle and Maya’s behavior is because he feels like he can’t use the same sort of tactics. He’s trying to navigate these waters as best he can being a queer man of color, he’s got enough things that draw attention to him and make him different. He doesn’t need to put any more targets on his back by being demanding or overdramatic. The two of them, they can get away with that. He can’t when he’s just fighting for a shred of hard-earned respect in the first place. So even if he wants to throw a tantrum about how they’re finally doing a number he really cares about and no one is paying attention, he can’t. Not really.

Farkle had never considered this angle before. It gives him a totally new perspective on Zay, and in some ways, the techie revolution as well.

INT. SVORSKI’S COFFEE - DAY

Riley and Isadora are seated in the window table at the local coffee shop, having found neutral ground to tread to be able to talk freely with one another. Riley is grateful that Isadora showed up at all, but it takes a bit of needling to get her conversing.

When Riley questions why Isadora got so heated at negotiations last night, Isadora is defensive at first. Who wouldn’t be, she claims. But when it’s clear that Riley’s intentions in the conversation are completely genuine, Isadora lets down her guard and opens up a bit.

She explains that she’s been fed up with the behavior of the performers for so long, and they’re always like this. Performers, that is. Look at her mother. The diva behavior, the carelessness, the neglect – all of them are like that.

Riley, softly: All of them?

Isadora: [ gazing at her, sheepish ] Maybe that’s a bit of a generalization…

Riley prods further, and Isadora gets to talking about her behavior the last couple of episodes. She admits that part of the reason she’s so sensitive to everything right now is because she’s still adjusting to having Lucas back at school. Last week was way harder than she let anyone know, and she’s still trying to get her world back in working order. The performer attitudes and demands didn’t help with that, certainly.

Considering her own world being in disarray, Riley can empathize. Isadora is word vomiting at this point, stumbling into a hasty explanation of why Lucas is so important to her.

Isadora: He’s not just my friend, he’s like… he’s my rock. Joining Adams last year was crazy and overwhelming, and he was there to help. To ground me. He makes sure I stay out of my head, that I don’t get too wrapped up in my thoughts. When he’s not here… I don’t even know how to explain it. He’s the most important person in my life, he’s pretty much my brother. I don’t think I’d survive at school if he left permanently.

It’s a lovely statement, and definitely illuminates many things about the relationship that Lucas and Isadora share. Their importance, but also, the nature of their relationship. Yes, Riley definitely catches the “he’s pretty much my brother” bit. Ah, if that doesn’t clear things up…

Isadora goes on to state that if anything, she’s ready for this embargo to end so that she can hang out with Riley at school again without having to go into hiding. Riley, touched, returns the sentiment with full fondness.

INT. AAA - SHAWN’S OFFICE - DAY

And perhaps, maybe that end is within sight. Isadora goes to Shawn and claims that she’s willing to come to the table if the other side is. That’s one difficult domino down…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)” as performed by Hamilton Original Broadway Cast || Performed by AAA Sophomores

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM

Isadora takes this initiative and walks it straight into “Yorktown,” launching one of the most elaborate concept numbers in the series to date. While half of the performance is the performers doing their routine (in plain leotards, no lighting, etc.), the other half is the techies “prepping for the final battle” in a sense. Isadora, thusly, takes most of the Hamilton bits.

[ Lyrics specific to characters – follow along here! ]

The number opens with Yindra coming to meet with Isadora and Lucas, operating as the Lafayette of the trio. She and Isadora declare the phrase “techies, we get the job done,” before she salutes them as the final battle unfolds. As the chorus begins, the performers take the stage and kick off their routine.

Farkle takes one section of the verse, harping on the sentiments of imagining death so much it feels more like a memory and at least having friends now if he’s going down in war. Then Isadora takes back over, instructing the other techies as to how they should move in this dance going forward (“Rochambeau! You’ve got your orders now go man, go!”)

When we get to the Hercules Mulligan bit, our “spy on the inside” is Nigel! He takes the verse and rails it impressively. When he “gets knocked down and gets the fuck back up again,” Dylan and Dave jokingly knock him over before he break-dance jumps back upright. Iconic!

As the dance break ensues, each techie is choreographed into facing off with a major performer, their interaction sort of emulating what the nature of their dynamic is like. While Dylan and Asher each take either Maya or Zay, Jade takes Charlie which mostly means her dodging him while he does expertly choreographed high kicks.

Considering they’re not even exactly at odds, Lucas and Riley’s choreography mostly consists of them sort of dancing around each other – especially given that he doesn’t dance. No, the big maneuver for them comes at the end of the sequence, when Lucas finishes the “fight” by scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder. She’s totally taken by surprise, and if she wasn’t sure whether or not he had feelings for Isadora, well, now…

Speaking of Isadora, she and Farkle are perhaps the most aggressive of dance duets. They’re the ones with true beef to parse out, and that’s clear in the way they execute the choreography. As the sequence ends and everyone else is shuffled (or carried) off, the stage is left with just the two of them staring one another down. Sizing each other up, trying to determine if one or both of them are going to break this stalemate.

Farkle backs off first, not breaking eye contact but sauntering away towards the wings. Isadora watches him go, holding her ground as best she can.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Farkle enters the classroom, locking eyes with Angela and clearly there on business. She rises from her desk, nodding him in. He steps inside, closing the door behind him.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

While the techies await, “wondering if this really means freedom,” their queries are answered as Shawn and Angela emerge from Jack’s office. The entire sophomore class is waiting outside, eager to see how the negotiations have panned out. As they “see George Washington smile,” Shawn gives Isadora and the techies a subtle wink.

The techies watch as the performers begin to stagger away, the war truly having reached its conclusion. It almost feels unreal…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

As the marching drum comes in and “the world turned upside down,” each of the main performers steps forward onto the stage to finish the routine. Slowly, as the music rises again and we near the climax of the song, pieces of the tech start to come back into play – the lights come back up, Jeff happily operating them from the booth. Dave and Nate push set pieces into place, high-fiving one another as they pass behind the dancers.

From different corners of the stage, the techies revel in their victory. Jade, Isadora, Dylan & Asher, Lucas – all declaring with ecstatic joy that they won.

The world did, indeed, turn upside down!

INT. AAA - SHAWN’S OFFICE - DAY

With their sides of the school back in order and a whole new world order at play to explore, Shawn and Angela reconvene. They decide that yes, in spite of all the differences and challenges that are bound to await them, this relationship feels worth giving another shot.

They kiss, rounding out their journey back to one another. Can’t wait to see what happens next…

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

Farkle is alone in the dressing room, still attempting to get all the paint out of his hair from like two days ago. Maya and Zay enter and find him there, laughing at his lackluster attempts to rid himself of the battle scars before shifting into more serious conversation. They ask him if he was the one who pulled Angela into negotiations.

Farkle: Although it took every ounce of kinetic energy in me to force myself to do such a thing, yes. I put down my metaphorical sword and opted for the truce. Hope everyone is damn well pleased about it.

Zay, sarcastically: Oh, you’re so brave.

Quips aside, Zay genuinely compliments him for putting his ego aside rather than letting the urge to be melodramatic win once again. Maya seconds the notion, pointing out that they have no idea what this new world is going to bring. They’re going to really have to stick together as a diva front united if they’re going to survive the change.

Farkle, starting to warm up to the idea, agrees. Oh, these divas… their friendship…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Lucas is alone in the auditorium, re-familiarizing himself with the terrain now that the dust has settled. He finishes striking the set from the Yorktown performance, hanging in the quiet for a moment and taking in the peace. It’s clear that he genuinely holds love for that musty auditorium, even if he hates everything else.

Riley enters through the dressing room stage doors, watching him fondly for a moment before stepping into the lights and interrupting his quiet. She commends him for a successfully led revolution. He brushes off the compliment, pointing out that she may have had more of a hand in its victory than she’s admitting.

Riley: Suppose it’s a good thing you didn’t listen to me when I begged for a ceasefire.

Lucas: Well, I don’t think you completely lacked the war-mongering spirit. From what I hear, you did a lot of negotiating on your end for the cause as well.

Riley: [ with a shrug ] No great moments in history happen because the fighting party put up their hands and surrendered… nor without help. Just goes to show that maybe you don’t have to do everything alone.

Lucas: … no, maybe not.

The sentiment hangs in the air between them. Lucas breaks the tension, clearing his throat and claiming that if she means to keep good on that offer, she can start by helping him clean up. She laughs, playing along and happily stepping up to finish the tidying.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Rumour Has It (Instrumental)” as performed by Adele || Instrumental

As if it’s the theme of the AAAC, the abrasive drums and ominous tones of “Rumour Has It” preclude our final scene.

INT. WYATT’S ROOM - NIGHT

We’re with Wyatt, holed up in his bedroom alone. He’s still looking pretty rough from his beatdown in 1.05, and while we’ve been able to ignore it while he’s in the background most of the episode, it’s hard to ignore the remnants of it up close. The emotional scars are still present too, as he’s clearly brooding with unaddressed anger.

He starts a direct message with the AAAC, essentially asking to be a part of their operations. He doesn’t want to change it or shake things up, he just wants a piece of the chaotic pie. So he’s clearly not the moderator of the thing, but he definitely wants to be a foot soldier.

The AAAC responds affirmatively, but first requires that he read their three rules of conduct. The last rule is, as it claims, the most important:

All submissions are to be posted unless otherwise expressed by the moderator. No edits or changes allowed. The page is equal opportunity, so that all voices can be heard.

No submissions are to be deleted after posting. If the sender is bold enough to say it in the first place, then they better be bold enough to handle the repercussions. Especially given that the posting is anonymous.

We don’t start things – we only state them. Our classmates say what they want to say, we are merely the messenger.

Once Wyatt agrees, he ventures the question we’re all wondering. “Who are you?” A text bubble pops up, indicating that the other side is typing a response.

In a quick series of cuts, shots of all of our main cast of suspects – Isadora, Farkle, Maya, Zay, Lucas, Charlie, Dylan, Asher, Yogi, Dave, Chai, Yindra, Jade, Sarah, Darby, etc. – show them on their phones at home or wherever they are. It could be any one of them typing the response in that moment.

Finally, the account responds.

“Welcome to AAA Confessions, Wyatt. Get to work.”

END OF EPISODE.

[richincolor]

We don’t have any new releases on our radar this week, so I thought now would be a great time to look back on the first half of 2018 and highlight just a few of the books we’ve absolutely loved. What’s on your best of 2018 list so far?

Amal Unbound by Aisha Saeed Nancy Paulsen Books || Review

Life is quiet and ordinary in Amal’s Pakistani village, but she had no complaints, and besides, she’s busy pursuing her dream of becoming a teacher one day. Her dreams are temporarily dashed when–as the eldest daughter–she must stay home from school to take care of her siblings. Amal is upset, but she doesn’t lose hope and finds ways to continue learning. Then the unimaginable happens–after an accidental run-in with the son of her village’s corrupt landlord, Amal must work as his family’s servant to pay off her own family’s debt.

Life at the opulent Khan estate is full of heartbreak and struggle for Amal–especially when she inadvertently makes an enemy of a girl named Nabila. Most troubling, though, is Amal’s growing awareness of the Khans’ nefarious dealings. When it becomes clear just how far they will go to protect their interests, Amal realizes she will have to find a way to work with others if they are ever to exact change in a cruel status quo, and if Amal is ever to achieve her dreams.

Give Me Some Truth by Eric Gansworth Arthur A. Levine Books || Review

Carson Mastick is entering his senior year of high school and desperate to make his mark, on the reservation and off. A rock band — and winning the local Battle of the Bands, with its first prize of a trip to New York City — is his best shot. But things keep getting in the way. Small matters like the lack of an actual band, or the fact that his brother just got shot confronting the racist owner of a local restaurant.

Maggi Bokoni has just moved back to the reservation from the city with her family. She’s dying to stop making the same traditional artwork her family sells to tourists (conceptual stuff is cooler), stop feeling out of place in her new (old) home, and stop being treated like a child. She might like to fall in love for the first time too.

Carson and Maggi — along with their friend Lewis — will navigate loud protests, even louder music, and first love in this stirring novel about coming together in a world defined by difference.

The Poet X by Elizabeth Acevedo HarperTeen || Review

A young girl in Harlem discovers slam poetry as a way to understand her mother’s religion and her own relationship to the world. Debut novel of renowned slam poet Elizabeth Acevedo.

Xiomara Batista feels unheard and unable to hide in her Harlem neighborhood. Ever since her body grew into curves, she has learned to let her fists and her fierceness do the talking.

But Xiomara has plenty she wants to say, and she pours all her frustration and passion onto the pages of a leather notebook, reciting the words to herself like prayers—especially after she catches feelings for a boy in her bio class named Aman, who her family can never know about. With Mami’s determination to force her daughter to obey the laws of the church, Xiomara understands that her thoughts are best kept to herself.

So when she is invited to join her school’s slam poetry club, she doesn’t know how she could ever attend without her mami finding out, much less speak her words out loud. But still, she can’t stop thinking about performing her poems.

Because in the face of a world that may not want to hear her, Xiomara refuses to be silent.

Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi Henry Holt & Company || Review

Zélie Adebola remembers when the soil of Orïsha hummed with magic. Burners ignited flames, Tiders beckoned waves, and Zelie’s Reaper mother summoned forth souls.

But everything changed the night magic disappeared. Under the orders of a ruthless king, maji were targeted and killed, leaving Zélie without a mother and her people without hope.

Now, Zélie has one chance to bring back magic and strike against the monarchy. With the help of a rogue princess, Zélie must outwit and outrun the crown prince, who is hell-bent on eradicating magic for good.

Danger lurks in Orïsha, where snow leoponaires prowl and vengeful spirits wait in the waters. Yet the greatest danger may be Zélie herself as she struggles to control her powers—and her growing feelings for the enemy.

Not Your Villain by C.B. Lee Duet Books || Review

Bells Broussard thought he had it made when his superpowers manifested early. Being a shapeshifter is awesome. He can change his hair whenever he wants, and if putting on a binder for the day is too much, he’s got it covered. But that was before he became the country’s most-wanted villain.

After discovering a massive cover-up by the Heroes’ League of Heroes, Bells and his friends Jess, Emma, and Abby set off on a secret mission to find the Resistance. Meanwhile, power-hungry former hero Captain Orion is on the loose with a dangerous serum that renders meta-humans powerless, and a new militarized robotic threat emerges. Everyone is in danger. Between college applications and crushing on his best friend, will Bells have time to take down a corrupt government? Sometimes, to do a hero’s job, you need to be a villain.

The Way You Make Me Feel by Maurene Goo Farrar, Straus and Giroux || Review

Clara Shin lives for pranks and disruption. When she takes one joke too far, her dad sentences her to a summer working on his food truck, the KoBra, alongside her uptight classmate Rose Carver. Not the carefree summer Clara had imagined. But maybe Rose isn’t so bad. Maybe the boy named Hamlet (yes, Hamlet) crushing on her is pretty cute. Maybe Clara actually feels invested in her dad’s business. What if taking this summer seriously means that Clara has to leave her old self behind?