#i like 'as a horror fan'.... makes it sound like i have credentials

[lemonadeslice]

as a horror fan, do you like anything by mike flanagan?

ehh not really. i like some of his earlier stuff okay; hush was kind of a gateway drug when i was a teenager, and i find the conceit of oculus interesting, but in general i'm not a big fan. i tend to find his stuff kind of cloying, and while i think themes of love and sentimentality can complement horror really nicely, i don't love his execution.

hush got me tho. as a person who lives in a remote forested area and once saw a strange man with a crossbow wander into their yard. well.

[married-2-the-music]

K-pop Discography Deep Dives: Purple Kiss

A Disclaimer: I was planning, when I first started Tumblr, to be a lurker, but then I began an office job and needed something to listen to to keep myself occupied. And then, I started going through entire K-pop groups’ repertoires, album by album, and jotting down my thoughts. And then, I stumbled into K-pop tumblr and decided, you know what, there’s at least four people on this hell site who would read in depth rants about these discographies and at least five who wouldn’t read it and then get mad because it’s kind of our job as K-pop fans. My lukewarm takes should be taken with an entire silo of salt and the knowledge that this is completely for fun and occupying my very bored, very neurodivergent brain. All this to say, for the love of god, I’m a sleep-deprived student and I don’t have time for internet hate, so don’t kill me. With that being said, enjoy!

Here are my credentials: I’ve been what I’d consider a casual fan of Purple Kiss for a little while now, and I first found them through a cover of Seventeen’s Adore U. I know their singles, their names and a little about the members of the group, but I’m the first to admit that there’s far more that I don’t know, and far more that I’m open to learning. So, let’s get started!

Before Purple Kiss’ official 2021 debut with seven members (Goeun, Yuki, Chaein, Swan, Ireh, and Dosie; Jieun left earlier this year), they had two pre-releases in 2020. The first, Can We Talk Again, is a bit of an odd choice for a k-pop single. Its beginning is slower than a usual single, but it’s also a bit fast for a traditional ballad, which makes it difficult to classify. It’s pretty but also a little meandering, and though I think it needs a better build and climax, I appreciate that it immediately sets them apart from other groups of their time’s brasher girl crush. When I’m in the right mood, I enjoy this one (although the rap is unnecessary).

If Can We Talk Again is a gentle plea, My Heart Skip A Beat feels more like a declaration of war. From the second those guitars sound, I’m nodding my head. It’s very much a product of its girl-crush era, but the rock elements and the fullness of the chorus (no anti-drop here, folks) sets it apart. The rap works far better here than in Can We Talk Again, and the song never loses its momentum. I especially liked the two-part bridge: the sung-through section and the more odd EDM section, which feels more thought through and not like they’re rushing to the end. So when that last chorus does come, it feels earned.

After two wildly different beginnings, the middle path of Ponzona is their official debut. Its name is the Spanish word for poison, and they take that horror element and absolutely run with it. This song begins the trend of Purple Kiss’ title tracks, which often stay in the slowly creeping, oddball “witch-pop” style, which suits them well. It isn’t a style that’s for everyone, but I think that when it’s done well (as it is here and in a few of their other songs), it can really work. The song reminds me a little bit of Spider by Hoshi, albeit with a less tightly-wound arrangement than that one. I like this song; I could do without the breakdown in place of a bridge, though.

From Into Violet, the first album, I liked both Hello and Period. They’re similar, but Hello just edges it for me. It has that quietly twinkling guitar and piano in the background and such nice use of their voices, with a lovely mini-explosion of emotion at the beginning of the choruses (especially the last, which has some excellent harmonizing).

Zombie is the first Purple Kiss song I heard, and I liked it right away. It starts with the satirical tone and poppier beat, and the abject oddness won me over before the first chorus. Speaking of choruses, this one is a lot of fun: it’s anthemic, and while the post is a little repetitive, I appreciate that it isn’t as a whole. I even don’t mind the rap in this song, since it does a good job keeping the energy. Its off kilter humor reminds me of Sunmi’s You Can’t Sit With Us, right down to the zombies. I really like this one.

Though I think Zombie is their strongest single, I think Hide & Seek is their weakest EP. While I like parts of the songs (like the calmer jazz of 2am and the soothing mood of ZzZz), I don’t like any of them enough to feature as a hidden gem. Cast Pearls Before Swine comes close with that pre-chorus but something about the follow-up doesn’t work for me.

My My isn’t part of an album, but is instead a special Christmas track. I’m a bit of a hater, truth be told, and it takes a lot for me to enjoy a Christmas song, so I’m already biased against this. Look, I don’t really like this one, but I’m not going to judge it too harshly because I feel like that wouldn’t be fair. Their voices are pretty nice in this one, though, it just doesn’t feel at all like Purple Kiss.

MemeM, at first glance, seems like a return to form, and parts of it follow a usual Purple Kiss template. I like the pre-chorus, and especially the bridge, but I just can’t get past that repetitive anti-drop chorus; I find it utterly grating on the ears and had to resist the urge to turn the song off. Unlike with Ponzona, which somewhat has an anti-drop, there’s not enough drive in this and it leaves the song feeling…empty, and not in a way that feels intentional.

Fortunately, I like the album (also called MemeM) better than the title track. While I do agree with public opinion that Pretty Psycho would’ve made a better single for them (“maestro, maestro, I’m a pretty psycho” gets a good laugh from me every time), my hidden gem is Hate Me, Hurt Me, Love Me. Despite the quiet, almost mournful beginning, it quickly blooms into a very fun pop song, and I admit I went “aww” a few times at the cute special video they released with it.

Nerdy, like Zombie, follows more of a fun-creepy vibe, which I naturally prefer to the “I’m so cool” concept. It’s both a niche that sets them apart from their peers and a style that Purple Kiss pulls off well. I absolutely adore the completely unnecessary, over dramatic classical dance break during the bridge and the sarcastic tone of the verses, although I wish that the choruses had a bit more heft to them, as they’re around half vocalizing and repetition, but overall I like this one.

The Geekyland EP is really strong and probably my favorite of their works, and I loved the acoustic guitar in Summer Rain, the wispy instrumental of Can’t Stop Dreamin’, and the Latin-pop influence of Fireflower, but my hidden gem is Love Is Dead. From the start, the strong beat, the slinky (definitely not the right word, but *shrug*) vocals, and the rock influences had me tapping my foot. This was an instant standout for me, and not something I’m used to hearing from k-pop. The “love, love, love is dead” hook has been stuck in my head since.

Sweet Juice comes right out of the gate with that tense creepiness and a far-too-quick-for-my-liking classical sample, before spiraling into an equally tense chorus. I like the sparseness of the instrumental and especially the added atmosphere the voices have, but I wish that the classical instruments made a return and that the chorus had just a little more “oomph” to it, to make the building tension feel more genuine. Like with Nerdy, it’s a good song, but with just a few changes I feel like it could be great.

I liked the Cabin Fever EP too, although not as much as Geekyland, so I have a clear stand-out in Autopilot. I’m a lover of synth and citypop, and this song’s crying-on-the-dancefloor vibes immediately made it a favorite. Its quiet ending and emotional, acoustic plea add a little bit of heft to its hook of “I feel like a monster, oh, but I can’t stop”, and, given Purple Kiss’ affinity for telling stories of monsters, I choose to read it as a look at the other side of monsterhood: what happens when the kind of self-acceptance they so often sing about isn’t enough? I acknowledge that I’m probably reading way, way too much into it, but Swan’s voice makes me have emotions (lol).

7Heaven surprised me on first listen, because it sounds nothing like a Purple Kiss song. I have no idea what caused such a dramatic shift in concept, tone and vibe, but I was a bit confused. 7Heaven is a very catchy song and feels like somewhat of a spiritual successor to Autopilot, but without the interesting lyrics that made Autopilot still feel like a Purple Kiss song. While I do like the song itself, it’s fairly standard for k-pop and doesn’t distinguish itself like the rest of their catalogue (whether I like every song or not) does.

Festa is only a three-song single, and neither of the b-sides really stood out to me. Truth be told, I’m a little annoyed that they didn’t wait another month and a half or so and released another great full EP for Halloween, which would’ve fit their vibe so well and probably felt more complete, while this one feels a little more rushed and very not-them.

Groups having their own, very clear, identity is a topic I genuinely care about, and something that I feel is becoming less common, which is one of the reasons I mostly stan 2nd and 3rd generation bands. I’m not saying that I want groups (or the idols in them) to be pigeon-holed, but looking at, say Girls Generation, Dreamcatcher, or Stray Kids, their styles (inspiration from vintage pop, rock, and hip-hop respectively) are very evident while still managing to have variety and keep innovating. Anyway, this was a longer rant than I’d planned, so let’s get back to my final thoughts.

Overall, I’m glad I did this! I got to learn so much more about Purple Kiss and who they are as people, got to listen to some great b-sides that I’ve added to my study playlists, and learned that they write a lot of their own songs, which is super cool! I’m always looking out for more self-produced groups. (And always looking for more recommendations too). Special shout-out to Yuki for writing such well-flowing raps in her second language, because I can’t even write them in my first.

My top 5 songs are Zombie, Love Is Dead, My Heart Skip A Beat, Autopilot, and Nerdy. Special shoutout to Hello. Purple Kiss gets an 8.25/10 from me, because they’re incredibly consistent in tone, style, and quality (except for a few dips), and they’ve done a great job carving out a niche, but I don’t think that they have any songs I would consider classics or favorites. I think that they, like LOONA, often stay in a middle ground of good, not terrible, but also not excellent. Also like LOONA, they do a lot of experimenting with genre, albeit in their b-sides, not their titles, which I think works better. I didn’t become a Plory through this deep dive, but who knows? I’ll be keeping an eye on them, and maybe after the next comeback, I’ll change my mind.

I’ll see you next week for a boy group (well…soloist, technically). I’m super excited for this one, so prepare for a lot of discussion. Tschüss!

[abubblingcandle]

i saw your recent post and i haven't read the snippet yet bc i got distracted by you saying it was hot and i think you're european right? so no AC? as someone who lives in the southeastern US, allow me to bestow some comfort tips for unreasonable summer temperatures without air conditioning. apologies if you know all this already or anything, but i'm currently surviving one of the worst heat waves i can recall in my 40+ yrs of living in the ass end of the devil's swamp so i'm a little zealous about making sure nobody is dying of heat

(my credentials are that the heat index was over 110F - 43C - every damn day for over a *month* even central air can't keep up my house hasn't been below 80 since early june)

at night, open at least two windows. put the fan in front of one of the windows, with the back facing the window, so it'll suck in cooler air. warmer air will get pushed out the other window. even better if you have two fans, have one sucking in from one window and one pushing air out the other window

during the day, keep the windows covered as much as possible and overhead lights off. i have blackout curtains for this. i have also put aluminum foil (shiny side out) on the windows like those windshield covers before. it worked but was a pain in the ass to put up and take down

wet several t-shirts and stick them in the freezer. rotate accordingly while lazing about indolently like a freeloading lion (seriously those mfers are thee worst)

ice packs on pulsepoints. wrist, groin, neck, wherever you can strap a bag of frozen peas i don't judge

keep ice water in a spray bottle and mist yourself in front of your fan for evaporative cooling. un-iced water will help too but obviously iced gets you maximum relief

the bowl of ice in front of a fan has never worked for me because it's way too humid here but depending on your humidity you could try it

i sleep with ice packs and a towel covering my pillow because the pillowcase getting sweaty is a sensory nightmare and the towel is somehow less horrifying

popsicles (i'm assuming that's what an ice lolly is?) are excellent keep it up. also to counteract the effects of sweating your balls off, you can sprinkle a little salt on the popsicles. i do this with the watermelon ones

if you are subject to the horrors of boobs in a heatwave, my remedy for swamp tits is to adhere panty liners to the part of the bra that goes under the boobs. because nobody wants swamp tits (i might also have been known to put a bag of frozen peas in my bra you do what you gotta do)

liberal and self-indulgent amounts of whining. it won't make you any cooler but at least you're sharing the misery

You are an absolute angel. Yeah I'm a northern Brit so no AC (I have taken to hiding in coffee shops where there is AC but unfortunately they ... you know ... close) and my body functions on the belief that anything above like 12C is t-shirt weather and anything above 25C is dear god no weather so I am truly not built for this 🙈 I once spent one day in 40C and it was the worst experience of my life so I could not do what you're going through!

So tips from someone who has to endure worse than this and regularly are super appreciated 🧡🧡

Some of these I did know but some of them sound like real good shouts. Unfortunately the damn health and safety of my flat means my windows open only a teeny tiny and I have slatted blinds but foil over is a super good shout.

I don't know why I hadn't thought of freezing wet t-shirts. Cause the problem I was having was wet tshirt then just turned into warm and still wet tshirt. Hence sitting in front of the fan because it then stayed cooler but frozen ... yes

And omg yes for wet pillow sensory nightmare, just had to say, yes makes my skin prickle.

Popsicles are ice lollies yes! I'm currently on a mix of strawberry frozen yoghurt ones and these absolute nostalgia on a stick

And the whining is required. Me and my dad have a daily chat and today's was talking about how shit England were in the football and both of us going "what did you do today?" "Sit about because it is too fucking hot" "Yeah me too"

[feeshies]

Hi I'm going to ramble about specific moments in songs I like even though I have no credentials to analyze music.

First up is the last verse from Clipping.'s Something Underneath (1:55). When I first started listening to rap, I used to think that "rapping fast" automatically meant "rapping well" or "rapping lyrically". I've since grown out of this perspective and learned to become frustrated with rappers and fans who prioritize speed over everything else (especially if they're white and putting down other subgenres of rap but that's a different rant). One thing that is lost in the speed emphasis is that it's not just about the speed of the words, but how the artist is saying them. Flow, charisma, enunciation, emphasis.

Going back to Something Underneath, the song gradually builds with the beat. The drums become more frantic, the static effect takes over--it's the rap version of a chase scene in a horror film. And just like an effective chase scene, the energy isn't at 100 throughout the entire thing. There are moments where the beat suddenly stops and the rapping slows down, almost allowing the tension to settle, before it picks back up again. But even though there are fast and slow moments, the song doesn't get really fast until that final verse. Going back to the chase scene metaphor, that verse is the moment the killer finally emerges from the shadows.

I also feel like this verse is an excellent example of effective delivery in fast rap. Sometimes I'll hear a fast rap verse where all of the words become muddled together. It can still hype me up, but I can't help but think about the performer trying to go as fast as possible and in an atmospheric/tense song like Something Underneath, that would kill the mood for me.

Thankfully, Daveed knows what he's doing. Let's look at that verse.

Falling is the same as Jumping is the same as Waiting for the fall That you all say is coming You know that you gotta make the call And if you saying something other than it's time to end it all Then you were playing silly games like there is nothing there to follow Wallow in the shallow water where they're dying All these calls of returning to the birth Without the comfort of a wall Inside a womb in Mother Earth Again she doesn't care The sprawl of bodies lying on the shore And they'll make anyone at fault If there was anyone to see the water With animals small enough for them to let them be To feed on pieces of them all Whatever's left of all the people once they give up on the raw 'Cause that will be a lovely treat to everybody that's involved

When Daveed raps, even though he's going a mile a minute, his flow still puts emphasis on the [ɑ] sound. Which makes sense, because that's where the rhyme is. But when you see the lyrics written out, it makes it more clear that the rhyme isn't at the end of each line throughout the entire verse. In a way, this lends a stream of consciousness quality to the verse, contributing to the panicked frantic nature of the song's climax. His delivery is fast, clear, and deadly in its precision. This verse is just one small example of the incredible attention to detail and atmosphere on this album.

Anyway, I was going to talk about moments from other songs, but this turned out longer than I thought. Also sorry I went on a couple rants about bad fast rap. I just remembered the song Death to Mumble Rap and I got bitter.

[ratsoh-writes]

Hello! How are you? Hope you’re doing ok. Could I get a random head canon for Underlust? And here’s another question, if that’s alright. Are you an art teacher? Because that sounds like a fun job. :D

Hello! I’m technically not a real art teacher since I don’t have any credentials, but I do work for a company that provides afterschool clubs. I teach the arts and crafts club to middle schoolers! :D

Charm first got into cake decorating on the surface when someone dared him to make and eat a sponge cake. Not the yummy stuff. A cake made out of kitchen sponges. That day, charmed gained two valuable things; the realization that he has a lot of love and potential in food decoration, and he was also five dollars richer

Sugar gained his love for weddings and the dresses especially due to a stack of wedding and fashion magazines that charm found in the dump for him. It was instant obsession, and it drove sugar to teaching himself how to make and mend clothes while he was still underground. He later took an apprenticeship on the surface and quickly moved up the ranks

Charms favorite Disney princess is venelope von shweets

Sugars favorite Disney princess is Cinderella

Sugar is extremely clumsy in almost every situation, except when he’s working on something he loves. When he’s dressmaking it’s like watching a man possessed. He walks differently and moves slower. He even talks more carefully.

Sugar is also a really graceful, if a bit crude, drunk

Charm isn’t a huge fan of alcohol, but when he drinks, he always ends up completely plastered and will probably wake up in a strangers house. That’s half the reason he doesn’t really drink anymore

Both the underlust bros share a love for horror movies. Whenever they watch them together, they’re always criticizing the characters and plot holes. Horror movies really brings out the b*tchyness in them

[manggojooz]

Foolish Love, Fake Love (Part 1)

pairing: idol!Jungkook x bodyguard!reader

word count: 2,412

genre: idol!au; angst; romance; drama

warnings: none

previous part: Prologue

summary: If all you can give me is a fake love, then I will be the fool to pretend that it’s all true. 

♫ “I'm so sick of this fake love, fake love, fake love I'm so sorry but it's fake love, fake love, fake love” ♫

A punch lands heavily on your upper arm and you immediately stopped in the middle of the pavement, panting hard from all the running. Spinning to your side, you yelped at Yuri who was to blame for the throbbing pain.  

“Can you please just change that ringtone already, it is so freaking embarrassing”, Yuri said through gritted teeth while looking around, trying to avoid the attention both of you had garnered in the park.  

You stuck out your tongue at her and gave her a friendly push before taking your phone out to answer it.  

“What’s up Ssam Chun... Yeah I’m exercising with Yuri... What, now? Ok, see you in the office”, Yuri could only hear your one-sided responses as she paces around you to cool down.  

“Ssam Chun’s looking for us, something about a new job”, you huffed at Yuri, still panting since both of you were getting competitive during the jogging.  

“One day I'm gonna change that ringtone myself”, Yuri mumbles as she walks back up to you.  

“Heyyyy, I don’t touch your Park Seojoon wallpaper, do I?”, you griped.  

“Yeah, and my Park Seojoon wallpaper doesn’t yell “I AM A CRAZY FANGIRL” in public, does it?”, Yuri challenges.  

“Fine, I will change my ringtone...”, you conceded, and started to jog back towards the office.  

“... when they release their new song!”, you yelled back at Yuri.  

She rolls her eyes, sighs and gave chase after you.  

---

“I told you I will give you the next tranch by the end of this week!”, a male voice bellows as Yuri and you approach the standalone shophouse in the alleyway sandwiched amongst worn down low-rise residential buildings.  

You gave each other a little nod before dashing through the opened glass doors to see a pack of men standing around the room, cornering a few students wearing taekwondo outfits.  

“These look valuable...”, a provocative voice chimes from a tiny woman circling the room, who swishes her hands precariously near a row of glass trophies displayed in one cabinet.  

“Don’t touch them”, the man commanded as he catches her by her wrist just before she was about to land a finger on one of the fragile decorations.  

She smiles a sly smile, “Don’t touch me.”  

“This has nothing to do with the kids, let them go”, he insisted without releasing his hold on her.  

“How can I let them go? They have to be here to be my witnesses... to prove that you grabbed me first”, she smirks with a pretensive demure tone.  

“Ssam Chun, let go”, Yuri said sternly before turning to the devious woman, “We have called the police. You’d better get out of here now.”  

“What good is having two ex-UFC fighters when you can’t even make money?”, her eyes cunningly looked between Yuri and you as she dusts her wrists with a disdain for the man who was holding on to them earlier.  

Yuri restrains herself from launching at her but snidely retorts, “At least we don’t go around obstructing other people’s business or destroying their property.”  

You had circled around the pack of men to stand between them and the students cornered inside the practice room.

The shrewd woman lets out a soft chuckle, “I wasn’t even going to touch anything”, she confidently rebuts as though waiting for someone to challenge her.  

You had enough of her antics and with no warning you swung your fist a hair’s breadth away from the face of one of her minions and he catches your hand right as they flew near his cheekbone. Everyone immediately tenses in the room and the minion swears, while pulling you in and raising his other hand threateningly.  

“I wasn’t even going to touch you”, you hissed at him. Turning to his female boss you spat, “Hey, Madam... he grabbed me first, we have witnesses too.”  

She looked completely unfazed, giving you a crooked grin before turning on her heels to head out. “Three days”, she tosses her words as her pack of henchmen flock out behind her.  

---

“How much do we still owe Madam Yoo?”, you questioned Ssam Chun after Yuri and you had sent the students home.  

“That’s for me to worry, I am feeling sorry enough that the both of you have to constantly be involved”, Ssam Chun replied.  

“We’ve talked about this before. You took us in and set up this company when we had nowhere to go. It’s our problem too”, Yuri rebuffs.

“What was it you wanted to talk to us about earlier?”, you sat down onto the floor mats after a physically exhausting morning.  

“Oh right, that... There’s a junior I know from school, he’s a manager at some entertainment company now and he came to know that I’m running this Taekwondo school and bodyguard business. He reached out to me and specifically asked for female bodyguards. I told him I only have you two and I couldn’t let both of you do it since I still had to run the Taekwondo school.”  

“Which entertainment company is this?”, you probed as the mention of it piqued your interest.  

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t say, it seems very confidential. Anyway, I told him ‘no can’t do’, but he offered a really hefty remuneration, which will settle the entire debt we owe and still have excess... so now I’m on the fence, what do you girls think?”, the older man put forth his dilemma.  

“What’s the job scope like? How many people are we supposed to be guarding?”, Yuri questions.  

“He didn’t say either...”, Ssam Chun answered sheepishly.  

Yuri and you both sighed in unison at the lack of information.  

“He did mention it’s some guy idols and that if you guys are interested, he wants to schedule an interview later this evening”, Ssam Chun was fumbling around on his desk.  

“Ummm, why do they need only female bodyguards. That just sounds very dodge”, you interrogated further.  

“He said something about female fans. I think they already have a few male bodyguards but it’s difficult to only have male bodyguards around them, something about bad press...”, Ssam Chun was still ruffling the stacks of paper covering his tiny table.  

“Ah ok, that makes some sense”, Yuri nodded, “anyway after the whole fiasco just now, I’m pretty sure we will lose another batch of students. No harm for Y/N and me to go check out this new stint”, Yuri concluded as she picks up a mobile phone hidden under a folder and hands it to Ssam Chun.  

---

The manager that Ssam Chun introduces as Sejoon brings over all the coffee on a tray and sets them down neatly in front of everyone. The interview was fairly informal and he did forewarn the two of you that they have gone through many female bodyguards who weren’t able to handle the work.  

“So you mean our job is literally only to shadow them and if any female fans try to get handsy, we just need to stop them?”, you asked after taking a sip from the latte you ordered.  

“It’s not as easy as it sounds. And... they have quite a number of sasaengs... ‘Sasaengs’ are like...”  

“We know what sasaengs are”, Yuri leans back into the sofa seat and sends Ssam Chun a smug wink of confidence.  

“OK great... so you gotta look out for their sasaengs, if anything happens, we want to report them”, Sejoon claps his hands together in satisfaction, “I’m fairly happy with the credentials I see and as for the pay...”

“Yeah we are happy with what you proposed”, Ssam Chun quickly asserted, not wanting to give Sejoon a chance to change the offer.  

Sejoon nods happily, finally getting one thing off his plate. “So when do we start?”, Yuri questions.  

“Tomorrow? They'll be heading to an event, so I will drop by to pick you guys up tomorrow morning at your office, 10am sharp.”  

---

By half past ten in the morning the next day, Yuri and you arrived outside the door to a photo studio. A sizeable crowd had gathered, but both of you have seen worse.  

“Ok, that’s them, just get close to the door. The fans are going to dash at them so just try to keep them away, the rest of the managers and I will usher them in. Your job is to stop any of the fans from physically contacting them, alright?”, Sejoon instructed as he pointed at an approaching vehicle.  

Yuri and you nodded in unison as you watched the shiny black van drive up to the entrance. Both of you stalk up to the door as it opens and you immediately freeze in position as you watch your ‘clients’ alight. You recognised them too easily, much to your horror. Yuri looks up at you in shock as well. The fans break out into a chaos, a symphony of familiar names echoing in your ears.  

A rapid jolt of force sends you hurtling forward and bumping into Hoseok who was just getting out of the van. He instinctively tries to grab onto you but barely misses and you fell face flat on the gravel floor. Yuri rushes to you and quickly gets you up, “Do you want to be trampled over? What are you doing? Get a hold of yourself!”, she shouts at you.  

You quickly got up and got back to doing your job, but the amount of fangirls trying to overcome the both of you was insane. They were pulling, pushing and groping their way forward and you felt violated in more than one way. You had no choice but to start physically pushing some of them back, making sure not to injure them in any way. The distance to the door must have been less than a fifty metres, but it felt like it took you an entire hour to get there. Eventually, you managed to enter the building behind the seven guys you were protecting and the doors were shut promptly.  

You look up to see if Yuri was doing ok, and burst out into laughter when you saw how her hair was a crazy mess, resembling a bird’s nest that had been ransacked. She rolls her eyes at you before saying, “you think you look any better?”, to which you immediately stiffen.  

---

In the waiting room, one of the managers, Myunghoon, was applying some ointment onto the minor scratch you had sustained from the scuffle. “The fans are really hard to control sometimes right? We worry that they will injure themselves too”, Myunghoon sighs as he finished applying a bandage over your injury. Before you could concoct a reply to reassure them that you were only caught by surprise, a boisterous music resounded in the room.  

♫ “I'm so sick of this fake love, fake love, fake love I'm so sorry but it's fake love, fake love, fake love” ♫

The suddenness of your blaring ringtone gave you a shock. You were sure you had set your phone to silent mode, but you struggled to get your device out, turning off the disturbance as fast as you could. A gush of hotness rises to your cheeks and you squeaked out a tiny apology for startling everyone.  

“Ohh, she’s a fan... so cute”, Jimin smiles at you, his eyes scrunching into that familiar crescent shape.  

“Ugh I must say I don’t agree with your choice of song”, Yoongi complains lazily. 

“Is that your favourite song? Who’s your favourite member?”, Jin asks as he stuffs his face with some snacks, “Or you don’t have a favourite?”

“I...”, you hesitated. You suddenly felt like you may be categorised together with those crazy fangirls.  

“Hyung, when will learn to use the term ‘bias’?”, Taehyung chided with a little pout.  

“Her bi...”, Yuri was about to blurt out your bias when you tugged forcefully at her sleeve to stop her.  

You steal a glance towards ‘your bias’, he looks up and catches you for a split second before you awkwardly averted his eyes.  

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for a fan to be our bodyguard”, he commented rather seriously to his manager hyung, thinking you wouldn’t hear him amongst all the chatttering.  

“Jungkook-ah, it took us a long time to find even these two female bodyguards...”, his manager was trying to pacify him.  

“I just don’t like the fact that a fan will be following us around, what if she’s a sasaeng”, Jungkook whispers to his hyung sitting next to him on the couch but you could hear him clear as day.  

“I’m not a sasaeng...”, you had taken offence over the suggestion but you replied as politely as you could, “... I didn’t know earlier that you guys were the ‘clients’. But please don’t worry about it, I will never let anything affect my work. If it makes you feel better, we have a service contract with lots of conditions stating what we can or cannot do. I have a lot to lose if I break the contract.”  

Jungkook sits up after realising you had heard him. This whole time you had no idea where you mustered the courage to stare at Jungkook right in his eyes. You had always heard he was shy, but you realised he couldn’t even hold your gaze for more than a second without looking away.  

“The set’s up, let’s go”, some guy knocked on the door and shouted. The members started to filter out of the room and you watched Jungkook saunter out.  

“Sorry, it must have been a shock for you too, our company always likes to keep everything hush-hush. We are happy to have you girls with us”, Namjoon reassures you gently as he walks past and gives you a little pat on your shoulder. He was the last of the members to leave the room and the managers followed them out as well.  

“I told you to change that ringtone”, Yuri eventually teased, trying to lighten your mood. But somehow it wasn’t to be lightened. You had always wanted to meet them in real life, but you would never have imagined it to be in this manner.  

At that time you should have known, that as with all unexpected encounters, there is always a predictable fool who will think that it is ‘destiny’.  

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #436

Top Ten Henchmen and Secondary Villains from Disney Movies

So I’m returning to the Disney well once again. After looking at villains and sidekicks (and once, long ago, Disney Princesses), I’m turning my steely gaze in the direction of henchmen. Or henchwomen. Or henchbirds. You know what I mean.

Every good baddie needs a henchman; a stooge, a second, a patsy. Partly for reasons of exposition; like a John Watson or an Amy Pond, it’s good to have someone else on screen that the clever person can do the talking to, especially when soliloquising their evil plans, especially if it’s in song. Secondly they can bring a note of comedy to an otherwise straight-down-the-middle bad guy; if there’s an evil dude or dudette waxing lyrical about killing Our Hero and stealing their throne, or whatever, it’s good to have a jester beside them to crack jokes and generally stop the tots in the audience from getting traumatised by Jeremy Irons.

So with no further ado (because I’m late again this week) here are my favourite Disney henchpeople.

Iago (Gilbert Gottfried, Aladdin, 1992): in many ways the perfect hench-bird; he’s funny, for a start, deeply, darkly sarcastic, and he’s, well, a talking bird. He’s also of one mind with Jafar, being cruel and conniving (until his face-turn in the sequels). Lightens Jafar’s melodramatic wickedness but gets stuck in with the meaty villainy, and, well, he’s Gilbert Gottfried.  

Sir Hiss (Terry-Thomas, Robin Hood, 1973): just as funny as Iago but without the misanthropic darkness, instead being a camp put-upon servant who does King John’s bidding whilst secretly despising his lot in life. A joyous performance from Thomas, who brings his on-screen foppishness to animated life.

LeFou (Jesse Corti, Beauty and the Beast, 1991): the sycophantic Richard Hammond to Gaston’s preening, pompous, chauvinistic Jeremy Clarkson, LeFou still falls more closely into the Hiss-a-like “bumbling sidekick” mould rather than feeling like a secondary villain or genuine threat. He does have, however, the greatest henchman song of all time, which counts for a lot.

Smee (Bill Thompson, Peter Pan, 1953): essentially a proto-LeFou, he’s just as bumbling, although one senses he’s in it more for the loot and the booze rather than being a fully-fledged follower of Hook’s fanaticism. The performance of Thompson, all jowly fluster, adds tons to the character, even if – whisper it – the definitive screen Smee remains Bob Hoskins.

Shenzi, Banzai, & Ed (Whoopi Goldberg, Cheech Marin, & Jim Cummings, The Lion King, 1994): much has been made of The Lion King being a loose adaptation of King Lear, but the three hyena demi-villains almost make for a trio of Macbethian witches; there’s no denying their bad guy credentials, diligently assisting Scar and also trying to eat our heroes more than once. But they’re also bumbling fools, comic relief idiots who giggle maniacally and cock up constantly. One of them is literally too dumb for words. And then at the end, about face, they turn genuinely threatening again and rip the real villain to pieces.  

Flotsam & Jetsam (Paddi Edwards, The Little Mermaid, 1989): it’s not uncommon for henchmen to come in pairs or groups – see above – and in one way Flotsam and Jetsam are akin to the nameless Goons from Sleeping Beauty or the “Friends on the Other Side” from the later Princess and the Frog. But they have more independent character, operating as a keen pair and revelling in their wickedness. With their mismatched shining eyes they’re seriously creepy, voiceless in a sea of talking fish, murderous eels up to no good.

Lucifer (June Foray, Cinderella, 1950): he doesn’t speak in blackly sarcastic soundbites, but Lucifer is a precursor to Iago: the animal companion of an unrepentant villain, who revels in his wickedness whilst also offering moments of humour. Lucifer is basically just a git; he tries to eat the mice, screws with Cinderella, and sucks up to Lady Tremaine. He’s called Lucifer, FFS.

Trigger and Nutsy (George Lindsey & Ken Curtis, Robin Hood, 1973): the film so good it’s got a main villain – with henchman – and then a secondary villain with his own henchmen. Whilst Sir Hiss is all upper-class obsequiousness, Trigger and Nutsy are working class stooges, village idiots given a badge and a licence to wreak havoc. Arguably a comment on the willingness of ordinary folk to turn fascist if given power, or the abuse of the apparatus of the state, or even police brutality, in reality they’re both just dumb goons whose comic schtick is appealing.

Jaspar & Horace (J. Pat O’Malley & Frederick Worlock, One Hundred and One Dalmatians, 1961): another pair of bumbling working-class twats, there’s not much going on here except for Disney doing their own take on the stock British comical crim. However, a bit like Mr Smee, you could argue the live-action versions (Hugh Laurie and Mark Williams) outstrip their animated predecessors.

Fidget (Candy Candido, Basil the Great Mouse Detective, 1986): full disclosure here, I’ve not seen Basil for a couple of decades, and whilst I utterly adored it as a nipper, a good many of its specificities are lost to me. But Fidget I remember because he was terrifying; a gangly demon, a master of disguise, and an absolute brutish horror.

Incidentally in researching this list (yes, I do do some research – often I don’t remember what a character is called, or I need to know the year a film came out, or whatever) I saw a lot of people praising the character of Helga from Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001). That is a film that I’ve seen precisely once and basically do not remember. Sounds like I need to give it another whirl. But anyway, Helga fans, if you’re wondering why she’s not on the list, that’s why.

[randombtsprincessa]

Adulation

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Taehyung x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 24.8k

Genre: Angst/Smut

Summary: Your Actor Charge seems to have a gigantic crush on you. When a blast from the past hit you both, will you stay? Or will you leave?

Warning: Mentions of Sexual Harrassment, Taehyung is a hot jerk, Pool Make Out, Reader is kind of a jerk too, Sasaeng activity, jealousy, drunk fighting, Dom! Reader (Kinda), Sub! Tae (Kinda), Mild Nipple Play (Male Receiving), Fingering, Protected Sex, Sexual themes.

A/N: I know, I’m sorry.

A loud blare went through the night, shrill and ear piercing, making the huddled up and covered figure jolt in bed. Your quiet cocoon shivered before groaning, a hand appearing from an opening in the burrow and feeling about for the infernal device.

The moment your fingers brushed the case, you yanked it inside the darkness enveloping you. the sound of wires pulling away and the charger dropping to the crowded nightstand made you grunt again but you could care less at the moment as you swiped at the accept option without opening your eyes completely.

The person on the other side of the line started talking immediately; not even waiting for you to say ‘hello’ and the sharp panic in the voice only made you wince; trying to crawl away from it.

“Stop, stop, stop…! I am not getting in a word of what you’re saying and I have no idea who you are so if you don’t take it down a notch and start from the top I’m hanging up and turning my damn phone off.” You snapped, knowing fully you couldn’t do anything like that.

The voice took a deep breath and sighed.

“It’s me, and I did it. Today, right now, I just submitted the letter and I am, for lack of a better word, fucked.”

You sighed, discerning your friend’s voice and pushed yourself towards more consciousness.

“What happened?” you asked, pulling a hand down your face.

“Ok, so I went up to the man and handed in my notice and he read through it – he actually read through it – and then tells me that I can’t quit because there’s a clause in our contract that basically means the previous manager can’t quit unless he finds another and he hasn’t found another and so I can’t leave.”

“How did you not know this clause?” you asked.

“I don’t know! I was so hyped about leaving I didn’t talk to his lawyers.”

“Mil,” you sighed, and she returned it equally.

“I know, I know what you’re going to say but please, you need to help me,” she begged.

“What can I possibly do?” you asked, horror creeping through to you at the thought of whatever it was she was going to ask you to do.

“Please, it’s only for a few days till he finds someone, till then I just need you to fill in for me. You know I can’t let this new job go…I mean it’s Minho for God’s sake! I’ll do anything.”

You glanced at the digital clock next to you. 2:13, the brilliant letters told you and you shook you head. It was too early for this.

“I don’t do temp jobs anymore, Mil. Those days are long gone. Besides I’m on vacation. I just started a day ago; I cannot just start a new job out of nowhere…especially temporarily.”

“I know, Y/N, I know, I just…oh come on, this is a once in a lifetime thing for both of us. If you work with him, you can work with anyone and his name on your resume is going to make it stellar.”

“I already have a stellar resume. I don’t need to add his name to it. You’re going to have to ask someone else.” You said; about to pull away from the conversation, ready to sleep again.

“Consider this a favor then, I’ll owe you. Take him on permanently. Both of you will be a whole lot better for it and who knows, you might just put him straight and enjoy doing it. Plus it’s you, you have a glowing reputation and he’d be a bigger idiot than he is to let you go. He’d even let you set the terms.” Your friend said finally.

You could tell it was a last desperate attempt and even though your better judgment told you to tell her no and hang up, your sleep deprived state was looking for ways to make this conversation end as soon as possible. You didn’t know if Mil was going to just give up and you didn’t look forward to having this one again.

“Fine, I’ll do it but it has to be all in the way I want it, ok?” you said, gritting your teeth at having to wake up at a reasonable hour again but you heard the distinct relief in hers.

“Oh my god, thank you, Y/N! Yes, he’ll play nice, I promise. You won’t regret it, I swear.” She said.

I already do, you thought grimly.

Even as the line went dead and you were left to ponder about either going to bed or getting some work done now that you were going to be employed again you smacked your head with the heel of your palm.

“What did you just do, you fool?” you griped at yourself.

Working within the circles of celebrities and the upper elite had always been your forte, given your skills of talking someone into doing stuff and eloquent manner. It had been your calling and you loved it.

You had worked from the very bottom the moment you’d left university, taking the experience you’d had being TAs and applying it to manage and acting as secretary to lower and upper socialites.

You had been successful in proving yourself, working your way up the ladder of the elite, from low level CEOs and COOs to high level corporate owners.

Your resume was filled with credentials and financial help from the very best and slowly, the Entertainment Industry started to set their eyes on you, hiring you to work their PR and to manage their celebrities and artists.

It had taken a while, but now you had the financial means and street name to take and own your clientele.

And it was a very impressive clientele, ranging from professional Entertainment company owners to famous artists. Your last client, Kim Jennie had hired you to manage her entire American tour and it had pulled off spectacularly. Grateful and leaving with a good bond, she’d offered you a nice long vacation period and you’d accepted generously.

You’d now have to deposit the money in the bank, you decided, your brain categorizing your work now that you had some to do again.

You loved your work, no denying it, since it kept you within the world of the stars but there was always the exhaustion and dealing with things that put many a dark circles under your eyes.

Deciding to forego sleep for the time being and adding it to the contract you’d draw up; you pushed away the blankets, reaching for the laptop on the other side of the bed.

Yes, the other side of your king sized bed was taken up by the only significant other you had in your life right now; work. It was the mark of how you lived in opulence by working your ass off.

An hour on the laptop later, the money you’d earned from Jennie and the vacation pay off were safely in your growing bank account and after signing off at various charities that you supported, you’d turned to searching for the name you were going to work for next: Kim Taehyung.

You had heard of him of course, everyone had.

Kim Taehyung was an extremely established person in the world of the performing arts. He was an actor, model, singer, photographer and painter. He was basically an all rounder in the entertainment world and his company, Big Hit raked in tons of money from his endeavors alone.

He ranked on the list of richest men and the most handsome faces every year, not to mention he was the supreme dream boat, wet dream to the collective female population of the world.

He was too good to be true to be very honest.

But you…you were privy to the news from the underbelly of the entertainment world and yes, you knew for a fact that he was too good to be true.

Kim Taehyung was absolutely filthy and you weren’t talking about his money or looks.

From what the whispering mouths of his staff relayed to their friends and they relayed to their friends, Kim Taehyung was a serial womanizer, flirted with anything that moved and was the epitome of an inappropriate spoiled brat.

That told you everything you needed to know about people like him: talent wasn’t shit if the package was rotten.

And you were about to be employed to him…

If you were a masochist, you’d agree with Mil and enjoy being employed by a giant douche, but you could already see the massive amount of control you’d have to have over the contract and the man himself. Reeling him in would be cheaper than the damage control he did probably.

You lingered on a particular picture of him, maybe by a fan cam in which he was just turning, giving a glorious view of his profile, chiseled and drool worthy.

You idly wondered how many pregnancy scares and blackmail he handled on the daily basis then shuddered, putting the thought away until you had to be the one doing it for him.

Basically Kim Taehyung was Tony Stark before Iron Man and Pepper Potts.

You were not happy at that prospect at all.

The marble flooring of the halls of Big Hit echoed the sounds of your footsteps way too loud for your sleep deprived ears as you marched your way down to the main office for the contract negotiation.

You were dressed as austerely as possible, your outfit reminiscent of a funeral but you did not want to encourage any nonsense from the lawyers.

If the man was as bad as rumors denoted, you had to be very cautious in what the lawyers tried to lure you in. you planned to be the one with the higher hand in every key of the contract and you weren’t going to take no for an answer.

Your hand reached out for the steel handle to the double doors and you pushed it open, sticking your head around the corner.

To your relief, your lawyer was already present inside, staring out the glass windows. At the other side of the long pale wood table sat two more suited men, one flipping through a black folder and another murmuring to the first one. They looked up at your entrance and the cursory frown vanished from their faces.

“Ah, you must be Miss Y/L/N,” the first stood up, making your lawyer turn to look at you too.

Park Chanyeol walked over to you, hand emerging from his pocket to encase yours.

“Y/N,” he said warmly and you returned the handshake, smiling up at him.

“Bet you weren’t expecting that call, huh?” You asked.

“Well, you’re my friend before my client and although I wish you would take some time off, I can’t deny your workaholic self pays my bills.” He chuckled before lowering his voice. “Still, I wasn’t expecting this.” he said.

“Blame it on too much stress and not enough rest.” You returned, eyeing the men watching you two.

“You’re only going to get more stress with this one.” He warned.

“That’s why you’re here.” you told him, dropping his hand to finally face Big Hit’s lawyer.

“Hello, my name is Y/N Y/L/N,” You said, forwarding your hand to shake theirs and the other man took it first, looking at you curiously.

“You’re quite young, if you don’t mind me saying so. When we got your references, I pictured you older.” He said.

“Yes, I get that a lot but trust me; I probably look older than I am. The type of work I do tends to do that to you.” you said, shrugging.

“I’m sure it does,” the man laughed. “I’m Bang Sihyuk, owner and CEO of Big Hit Entertainment.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” you said, looking at the other man who took your hand next.

“Park Jinyoung, pleasure’s all mine, and what exactly would you say you do?” he asked.

You flashed him a wide grin, glad he wanted to get to the point fast. “Everything that is needed to be done,” you replied.

A flash of confusion passed his face and he glanced at his boss before gesturing for us to take the chairs.

“I’m a little confused. I thought you were a manager.” He said, pulling out a pen and clicking it open.

Chanyeol took the seat beside me as we faced them.

“That’s correct. My primary work function is of a manager but I do more than just managerial duties. I’ve broadened a few of my horizons and now I can also assist, handle public relations, the image of a person and assorted media duties.” You said, watching him raise his eyebrows, making a small note in the folder.

“Provided it is only one person, she is not going to offer more services if more than one party are involved.” Chanyeol put in quickly and Jinyoung nodded.

“Naturally,”

“Miss Y/L/N, as I have it, you are the replacement Mil is offering in return for giving her notice, as a forward on her clause of duties? To be honest, you’re a little over qualified to be working a temporary job.” Jinyoung said.

“I’m not going to work a temp job. I will take the job of permanent staff for the contractual period.” You explained and both men exchanged looks.

“I have the initial draw of the contract my client wishes to present.” Chanyeol indicated the folder in front of Jinyoung who nodded reading through it again.

“Most of the keys benefit you,” he shot at you and I smiled at sweetly as I could.

“Well, I was supposed to be on vacation and I’m doing this as a favor especially for a man who is known for being troublesome.” You leant back in your seat. Jinyoung opened his mouth but Sihyuk made a motion.

“That’s acceptable; we could use someone of your caliber in this position. I just hope you can handle it.” Sihyuk sighed and I immediately knew that Taehyung was more than a handful.

And speaking of the devil…

The doors flung open and a loud cry of ‘Please, Mr. Kim!’ announced the arrival of Kim Taehyung himself.

“Hey people!”

You turned to get the first in person look at Kim Taehyung and you had to say, you were pretty freaking impressed.

The tall dark haired man, his sleek built emphasized by the expensive sweater and jeans would’ve been enough to catch eyes but the face was where your eyes stopped.

You could’ve spent hours describing Kim Taehyung but you decided to categorize his face in one department: Fucking Gorgeous.  

He grinned widely, a boxy smile revealing teeth as he beamed good naturedly at the group of people collected in the room and for a second you doubted everything you’d ever heard about the man. Surely this beautiful angel of a man with that childlike smile and twinkle in his eyes couldn’t be as devilish as the tabloids and his own staff bemoaned.

“I heard you were getting me a new babysitter and I couldn’t sit this one out. The last one left me high and dry.”

The doubts cleared from your mind like someone wiped them over with a wet cloth and your lips pursed at the blatant innuendo. You knew that Mil was definitely a woman of honor and wouldn’t have encouraged any sexual harassment. So, that rested your mind that Kim wouldn’t be used to something like that but with that face you knew he got enough sex.

Mr. Sihyuk winced loudly and gave you an apologetic look.

“Taehyung, this is Y/N Y/L/N, she has agreed to take you on a client in Mil’s absence.” He introduced and Taehyung swung around to look at you.

You watched him blankly as he took you from head to toe, clicking his tongue once.

“She’s pretty but eh,” he loudly whispered to Jinyoung, making your eyes flit to him in reflex and to maybe also see his reaction to understand if you were going to be cornered against Kim Taehyung.

If that was the case, with everyone taking the corner of their Golden Child and ganging up on you, you were glad that Taehyung had shown up. This would give you a feel for your colleagues and you’d walk away with zero hesitation, saving yourself and the people working for you, like Chanyeol some major headache.

Jinyoung for his part only looked away from Taehyung, choosing to instead flip through your contract and avoid everyone’s gaze.

There was a pause in which everyone waited for a reaction, something to explode maybe, for the ball to drop.

Taehyung was blatantly grinning at his CEO who looked uncomfortable and both lawyers looked away from everyone, Chanyeol already looking like he wanted to be dead asleep while you chose to simply watch Taehyung.

His stance was easy as if he’d been in this position tons of time, CEO in the room and people’s discomfort choking the air. He was obviously spoilt by everyone because even though nobody wanted to say it out loud, he paid everyone’s bills in the company and lorded over the fact that he was their most important piece, the other artists simply pawns on the chessboard.

He was basically one of the sons of your earlier powerful bosses, who seemed to think they had some right over you because you worked for their fathers. Well, he was only… ‘More’…

So, if that’s how he wanted to play this…

“If you’re looking for the sexual harassment clause it’s at the very end.” You spoke up, arms resting gently on the chair handle and legs crossed, leaning back easily to display a position of power, of detachment.

Mr. Sihyuk immediately spluttered, Jinyoung sighed and Taehyung raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t usually put one of those in a first draft contract, I usually feel out the place and people before going to that but I’m sure you’ll understand why I made an exception in this case.” You said.

Mr. Sihyuk was already opening his mouth to protest but I ran over him, turning to Taehyung instead.

“You just made my foresight worth the time, Mr. Kim.”

“Miss Y/L/N, I assure you,” Mr. Sihyuk began but this time it was Taehyung who cut him off.

“Calling someone pretty is inappropriate now?” he asked.

“Certainly not, but whatever else you had in mind definitely would’ve been. This just ensures that we both keep our minds on work.”

You turned to look at Chanyeol.

“I think we have what we need.” You said and he nodded, swiping the drafted copy from under Jinyoung’s fingers.

“I can have the final contract done and ready to sign by both parties by the end of the week.” He said.

You looked at Bang Sihyuk who glanced back at Jinyoung and then nodded.

“That works for us. Welcome to Big Hit, Y/N.” he said.

You nodded and were about to turn to Chanyeol to leave when a hand forwarded itself into your line of sight. You followed it to see your prospective charge, eyeing you with a decided gleam in his eye.

“I’m going to enjoy working with you, Miss Y/L/N.” he said, his voice dripping with courtesy.

You stared at him for a full half minute before taking his hand in a grip that was harder than necessary. “I look forward to it.” you grinned, revealing your teeth just as he had done and you swore you saw his eyes briefly flash to your mouth, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he pulled away.

“Y/N,” Chanyeol said and you nodded, following him as he opened the door for you, letting you out of the conference room.

You could feel Kim Taehyung’s eyes boring into the back of your head but you could only smirk.

If that’s how he wanted to play this…you were game.

The loud cheering from the arena perforated the concrete walls of the stage building, letting everyone hear the craze that Big Hit’s concerts generated in – what was the number? – Thousands of people, maybe even millions…

You picked up your phone to check the time, wincing at the horrifying hour and then reminded yourself that in a few minutes Taehyung would be on the stage and you would have some time to at least make a coffee run.

Your contract had been that of the lowest possible time period, since you were one of the most sought after Managers in the industry, your demand had risen till it had started to stress you out, forcing you to increase your time period working for one person or company at a time. Before you were with one job for just two years minimum but not you stayed for five years.

This allowed you a lot of time to get comfortable with your work and employer and also let you earn enough to give you some time off for at least a month or so.

However now that you were tied to Big Hit and Kim Taehyung for five years, it seemed that Taehyung was hell bent on making those five years as nerve racking and ragged for you as possible.

He made you come for him during hellish hours of the night and morning, just because he wanted supplies that he left or forgot and he got struck with inspiration.

He had stupid demands as to his diets and drinks and you’d caught him devouring a whole fried chicken bucket when he’d sent you to get him a cherry tomato salad. On confronting, he’d mocked you on how you’d been too late.

It had taken you a few weeks to figure out a pattern for Taehyung’s seemingly unpredictable antics and whims.

You started to be more prepared and kept anything and everything that he could ask for close at hand, foodstuffs, drinks, etc. when he called you about wanting supplies for his art, you happily told him you stocked up his house full of those and then hung up on him. He’d stopped calling after a few weeks of that. If he wanted to ruin his outfits ‘accidentally’ and wanted the exact outfit, you always had a replica and if he tried to frighten a poor stylist into changing his outfit at the very last minute, you stepped in almost harshly, crushing his dreams of seeing the girl squeak in fear.

Now after six months, he was still as annoying, spoilt, and bratty and showed zero change in attitude but you’d learned to grit your teeth and grin and just handle it, quickly and swiftly detracting his idiosyncrasies and phases. You still got sick and tired of him but he’d learned to mellow down nowadays, quietly agreeing to what you told him and not throwing as many tantrums as he used to.

A few girls from the staff had complimented you on your iron fist on the wild man but you knew better.

Taehyung was still flirty, teasing, and touchy to a limit that just drew the line at your clause of sexual harassment and that glint you’d caught in his eye that first day never dimmed whenever he set his eyes on you, followed by a boxy grin that was still reminiscent of an adorable child’s.

No, Kim Taehyung was a caged tiger and he was just looking for a way to escape your iron fist.

You sighed when the crowd cheering increased, almost shaking the foundations of the building, which meant that Taehyung had made it to the stage.

Sure enough, you heard his deep bass voice calling for a louder cheer and the usual babble of ‘I can’t hear you’ and ‘you can do betters’.

“Hey, Y/N,” you looked up with a tired smile at one of the other managers of the singers with Big Hit.

“You look like hell, you should go home.” She said, concerned.

“Oh, I’ll just get a coffee,” you waved it away but she just shook her head.

“No, no, you look almost dead on your feet and I know Taehyung is more than two handfuls. You go on home now, I’ll take care of everything here.” she said.

“It’s Taehyung,” You reminded her pointedly and she gave you a grim smile which showed that she knew exactly what she going into.

“I know that but if you fall ill then we’ll have to deal with him longer. Just take some downtime and get back soon. He’s a lot more amenable when you’re around and he won’t be as good a boy with you sick or gone too long.” She said.

You stared at her to see if she meant what she was saying before rubbing your eyes and nodding.

“You’re sure?” You asked one last time.

“Yes! Go girl, and hurry back,” she said and without another word you grabbed your bags and hurried out, the work car Big Hit had given you for privacy and protection already waiting for you at the front door.

You nodded at the driver’s question about heading home and shot a text to Taehyung’s phone, notifying him that you were leaving and that you weren’t feeling up to more work tonight.

You just hoped he would understand although you didn’t let yourself hope too much.

So imagine your surprise when you managed to spend an entire night with no calls from Kim Taehyung and his unreasonable demands. All except a somewhat grumpy message telling you to take the weekend off but show up at his place first thing on the next work day.

“…And to the most courageous person we know, a toast to honor her patience!”

Your head turned as one of your friends made a loud crowing call, the table you were sitting at with your friends in your favorite club rearing with supportive cheers as they all raised their glasses.

As per Taehyung’s text, you had taken a whole of two days off, an invitation from all your very busy and hard working friends to join them for long overdue drinks being the only thing that dragged you out of your bed.

You laughed as Chanyeol and Mil let out loud cries of ‘Hear, hear!’ and banged their fists on the table.

“Hats off to you, babe, I would not know how to handle him for five fucking years!” Jae told you.

“It’s the lowest number of years I have to work, you guys!” You returned.

“Doesn’t matter; anyone who willingly signs up with Kim Taehyung is a saint!” Mil said, immediately getting hushed by your more sober friends.

His name ringing outside would get your band of friends’ attention you didn’t want and would also lead to an article that could get you all kicked out.

“So, Y/N, what’s your secret, yoga?” Jae continued.

“Nope, I just learnt how to manage him.” You winked for their benefit and the buzzed crowd erupted again.

“Aww, sounds like someone has a wee little soft spot for their new manager.” One of the girls teased Mil who scoffed.

“Honestly, I don’t mind him having a crush on Y/N, as long as he doesn’t make me get up at 2 AM just to get him a fucking berry smoothie.” Mil shuddered amid sympathetic noises.

“Y/N, what would you do if he did have soft spot for you?” Chanyeol wiggled his eyebrows, teasing you about the spectacle Taehyung had created during your first meeting.

“Does it matter? I need money, not boys. I think I can work something.” You replied.

“Be careful though, he’s a vindictive jackass. Do you know one of his stylists once told him blue wouldn’t be a good color on him and he dyed his hair blue! He did it, literally out of the blue!” Mil said.

“I saw those pictures, he looked good,” Jae said.

There was a pause in which everyone turned to look at Jae who looked up from his glass at us then shrugged. “What, the dude may be an ass but he’s also got a great ass. You’d have to be blind and dumb to not want yourself a piece of that.” He said.

There was another, longer pause as people considered what he just said then shrugged too, picking up their glasses to swig at them.

“Well, he’s not wrong.” One of your friends mumbled, making Mil choke and splutter.

“Excuse you, no, no he’s wrong! You do not want to be anywhere near that, no matter how hot he is. Trust me, as someone who’s been through all his dirty fucking laundry, he’s got some very bad shit going on with himself.”

“Does he not have a dick?” Chanyeol asked, making Mil grimace at him.

“No, that he does, I’m just saying he’s not very concerned with what and who he sticks it in.” Mil said.

“Aww, Mil, don’t judge a guy for having sex.” Jae groaned.

“The woman turned out to be a Sasaeng who had stalked him before. He was too drunk to recognize her and when he woke up next to her in the morning he made me come over to make her leave because she wouldn’t. She hit me and left a bruise and also stole a few of his clothes. We had to track her and bury the issue. It took me weeks.” Mil said, anger slurring her words as she glared at Jae so hard he cowered.

She turned to me.

“He hasn’t done Sasaengs in a while now but still, he’s the worst dick you could want in you. I won’t say he’s a walking STD, but,” she shrugged as if that was exactly what she was saying.

Your friends took a minute to process this before a girl beside Jae piped up.

“I heard he wasn’t always that bad.” She said, swirling the glass in her hand as she nervously spoke up.

Mil looked at her as if she was going to say something but then nodded.

“One of my seniors was a supervisor to the current Head Stylist of Big Hit and when a lot of scandals with Taehyung dropped I heard her talking about how he was a lot better when he was a trainee.” The girl continued before looking up, cheeks reddening.

“I heard her talking about the woman who scouted him and then ruined him.”

You clinked your nails against the tip of your glass, already wondering if you were going to regret hearing this, but you were too enthralled, too interested in the underlying notes of your boss to care.

The girl stopped, perhaps for effect and the taps of your nails hardened, waiting impatiently for her to speak up.

“Has anyone heard of Yubin?”

For a second, a brief vision of a tall, beautiful woman rose up in your brain, too vague and distorted from years of unheard from absence.

People exchanged looks before Mil rolled her eyes.

“Yes, I knew Yubin, just as she retired.”

“She didn’t retire. She just stopped working.” The girl countered.

“Nobody cares, what of her?” Jae cut in.

“Well, she’s from Daegu, right, that was where she found Taehyung. She was appearing at her university and met him and brought him to Seoul to train. I don’t know when or how they must’ve started dating but once they did, he started to become moody and reserved. Soon enough they announced that they were dating and I think Taehyung was close to proposing but they broke up and she disappeared. Apparently it broke him. So he went off on a long, long bender and came back with this whole persona.”

Your clinking stopped as you went over the information, trying to match it from any article you might’ve read. This was all still back when you were in the business circles and didn’t keep up much with the entertainment side of life.

“Now Taehyung is the biggest star there is and she’s nowhere to be found.” The girl finished.

You dropped your gaze to the table, realizing you had been just made privy to information about your boss that he might not want you to know, something private from a older colleague of Taehyung had just been passed around as Over the Table gossip.

“Well, guys, it’s time for me to go, I’m supposed to start work and I’d rather not go in to him with a hangover.”

“Don’t be surprised if he has one too,” Mil said, standing up to hug you as you passed through goodnights and ‘see you later’ from the rest of the table.

You groaned with relief as you pulled off your heeled boots, flopping down into the plush of your couch and leaning your head back, eyes closed as you rolled your feet to work out the tension from having been in the death traps you wore.

Your mind was screaming at the thought of having to turn up at Taehyung’s penthouse in the morning but this was what you had signed up for.

Wondering what terror he has planned for you for taking time off, you removed what was left of your make up and showered.

The ding of your phone on the counter notified you of a text and you hurriedly exited, wrapping yourself in a towel and checking it.

The appearance of Taehyung’s face on the screen, made you gasp, pulling away and tightening your grip on the towel, thinking he’d video called you. It wasn’t until you noticed the play button on the tip of his nose that you realized it was a video message.

Grumbling at the scare, you pressed it, watching Taehyung as he adjusted himself in bed, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. Your first thought was whether he’d sent you a post jacking off video accidentally until he opened his mouth, the familiar grin and wicked glint filling his eyes as he finally turned his attention to the camera of the phone.

I hope you had a good weekend, Miss Y/L/N. I expect you to come for me bright and early tomorrow.

You raised your eyebrows as he paused unnecessarily after ‘come for me’ and rolled your eyes as he ended the video with a wink and bite of him lips, the screen darkening with a replay sign on it that you ignored.

Was it really a persona? Or had fame finally made its way to Kim Taehyung’s mind and it was a fantasy of women who wanted to ‘fix’ him?

Maybe you’d never know.

As expected of you, the next morning you arrived at Taehyung’s palatial building with a very mild throb in your head that you were sure would go away with a little TLC.

Flashing your ID at the front desk, you waited for the elevator to ding at Taehyung’s floor, your head idly lying against the cool metal, wondering what you were going to be greeted with it when you set foot on his granite flooring.

The image of Taehyung with mussed hair and swollen lips certainly made you wonder if he had been alone or even if he was then what he had been doing, a thought that you had jolted yourself out of in horror. Shaking your head like a dog, you a straightened as the ding in the metal box indicated you were where you had to be.

You poked your head out, looking around to see the spacious first floor seemingly empty and stepped out.

“Mr. Kim, it’s me,” you called.

Walking with an almost relieved sigh to his seating, you dumped the bags you were carrying onto the couches.

At first thought, anyone would think that Taehyung’s house would be cool and chic like how he acted or if the people who he interacted with had to guess, it would be something out of the Fifty Shades setting. However, you had been pleasantly surprised to see that Taehyung’s personal space was very homey and cozy, decorated tastefully in equal measures of colors, austere, wood, metal and stone.

The living room had floor to ceiling windows that depicted a stunning profile of the Seoul skyline and often times that you’d been there with him droning on you’d found yourself gazing out of them, soaking in the sight that your windows, though decent and well paid for, were unable to offer you.

You were well off and doing damn good, you just weren’t there yet to purchase a pent house, so this was your closest best bet.

“I know,” you heard him say from behind you and turned, immediately freezing to see him walk downstairs, in a loose set of tracks and his torso bare.

“Good…morning,” you said, looking over his shoulder, waiting for his conquest of the night to come downstairs but it wasn’t until he’d reached the bottom stairs and walked over to you, visage similar to the video he’d sent that you realized that he’d come alone.

“Waiting for someone?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder as well.

Busted…

“Is there someone I should be waiting for? Or rather, be prepared for…?” you countered and Taehyung smirked.

“I would like to see that, how you prepare for one of my one night stands.” He replied, taking a step closer and you rolled your eyes, feeling the throb in your head increase.

Great that was a no go for that TLC.

“Unless you bring home some psycho who I have to sue then you won’t be seeing much.” you said, about to turn around before pausing.

“Have you even taken a shower?” you asked.

Taehyung gave you a level look. “I haven’t slept with anyone, Y/N.” he said, voice grumbling again and you shrugged, digging around in one of the bags for his fresh laundry. You tossed him a clean white shirt.

For his part, Taehyung looked equal parts amused and annoyed with you as usual as you sat in your spot, where you could watch the view clearly before pulling out your phone.

“Any particular reason why you called me in so early…? You know, aside from bringing you your laundry, because delivery costs you so much.”

“Delivery people aren’t nearly as cute as you,” Taehyung teased, a quirk to his thinner upper lip that you didn’t deign to acknowledge. “I’ve got an invitation. It’s for the Film Festival. I’m sure Big Hit would tell you to take care of it anyway but I wanted to let you know about the details. I don’t want you to screw anything up.”

You gave him a venomous smile.

“As you wish, Mr. Kim,”

Your employer looked dubiously at you for a long while before shrugging, seating himself opposite you and pushing a docket of pamphlets at you. Spying the name Film Fest on it you carefully began to arrange them, studying each paper with a keen gaze and making notes in your phone about changes or payments that you were sure you needed to have done.

The Film Festival was one of the big events in the entertainment world, picking exotic or picturesque locations to invite local and international stars to grace its carpets, screenings and preview nights one of the candies offered while the earnings off of the event itself could feed a large family for a year.

It was mega huge to be invited, and of course Kim Taehyung would be on the list.

Taehyung lounged in the armchair opposite you, eyeing you with interest, watching you work for him.

“How have you been?” he asked suddenly.

Your attention diverted for a second, fingers pausing in their busy work of noting down important information as you shot him a puzzled look.

“Your health, you were sick.” He clarified

A delicate snort rose up to your lips but you quelled it in the last minute, instead choosing to shrug your shoulders as you returned to the papers in your hands.

“I’m fine now,” you said quietly, finally closing you notes app and shuffling the sheets so they would stay in a proper sequence.

“What happened to you?” he demanded next.

“I work, Mr. Kim, I get tired. I needed a little time off. You were generous to provide that, thank you.” you said, wondering if he could sense the underlying tones of sarcasm to your voice but if he did he didn’t give much of an indication.

“Well, I suppose there’s a clause about overworking you in that damn contract of yours.” Taehyung’s upper lip curled ever so slightly and while you’d have taken offense to the derogatory tone, you instead chose to grin.

“I’m glad to see you at least hold something for law, Mr. Kim.” You commented.

Taehyung’s curled lips furled even further, his eyes dropping to your mouth blatantly as he contemplated how to answer for the fact that he’d had a lot of brushes with the law than most celebrities had to.

“You should call me by my name more often. Don’t call me Mr. Kim, it feels weird.” He said instead.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Your staff calls you Mr. Kim,” you reminded him and he waves his hand to dismiss it.

“They don’t see me every day; they don’t have access to me 24/7. You…do, and you take care of more of my shit than they do. I guess that means you deserve to get some added bonuses.” He leans his head back to look at you as you slowly ran your eyes over his frame.

Six months of close contact with him had very nearly made you privy to almost all his looks ranging from Stage Taehyung to Screen Taehyung to Shit Taehyung. For all his good points, he had about twice the bad ones but even with this info lodged firmly inside your brain you couldn’t stop yourself from checking him out occasionally.

You couldn’t help yourself.

It wasn’t a lie that Kim Taehyung was probably the most beautiful, the hottest man to ever step foot on the planet and if he was going to be a douche most of the time the least he could do was be eye candy for the female population that worked for him.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to walk through your work place and over hear some girl who was freshly inducted, moan about wanting him to do things to her that would curl cheese. Then there were the women who’d been around a while and wanted nothing more than to fuck him for all the frustration he caused them.

You prided yourself on not falling in either of the categories.

You weren’t a newbie who wanted Taehyung to pin you to the nearest wall and have his way with you and you also weren’t the older women who gossiped at the coffee station about wanting to get fucked by him just because his piss off behaviors grated your motors.

Instead, if anything, you kept your mind on just how good he looked.

If late night imagination had to be blamed, you wanted him to decorate your floor, begging forgiveness and atoning for being a grade ‘A’ bastard.

Even now, with the way his body almost sprawled over the expensive faux leather covering of his couch, his eyes watching yours rake over him, taking in the bulges, dips and curves of his body, you would rather only stare from a distance than ever get physically involved.

Nope, late night imaginations would be what you left it at.

“I know that if looks could kill, you wouldn’t ever need a gun but darling that is definitely not the way to do it.”

Your eyes snapped back to his, reflecting the dark pools fixed on you till you finally straightened your posture, slipping the sheets into their respective folders and standing up, grabbing your purse.

Taehyung didn’t stand with you, choosing to gloss his eyes up your body with a blatantly hungry look on his face that you ignored.

It was only because he wasn’t getting laid with whatever he found crawling in the streets ever since you’d become his manager.

“If that would be all, Taehyung, I’ll leave now. You can come to the office to finalize the details of the itinerary and other matters. I’ll see you there.” You said, walking around him to get to the elevator.

You weren’t expecting him to follow you but when the elevator dinged its arrival and you entered, turning to face the front again, you found Taehyung standing right there, hands deep in the pockets of his sweatpants, a subtle smirk gracing his lips.

“Oh, you’ll see me, Y/N.” he said.

You blinked at him in confusion as he reached in, pressing the button to the lower level and pulled back, twirling his fingers in a goodbye, accompanying it with a ducky kiss face and a smarmy wink.

The doors closed, the mirrored walls, showing you the blank look on your face. It took you a second but you finally let the scoff that had been building inside you out, echoing in the metal box.

You’d just allowed your boss to successfully flirt with you, you scolded yourself.

Ah relax, it’s not like you encouraged him or lead him on. He’s just frustrated and maybe even lonely. It’s just horny male hormones. You reasoned with yourself.

In the mirror, you met your eyes with pursed lips, giving yourself a small nod as you set your reasons within stone.

He was just horny.

He was just horny and trying to mess with you.

You told yourself that you weren’t taken in by his antics. Nope, nothing like that at all but even as you entered your workplace amid new rumors; you had to digress to listening to a few of those.

As much as you liked to keep your work clean of these things, even you had to learn to make friends for a smoother run of time.

Of course, being the centre of those rumors was what bothered you.

Conversation ceased when you entered the break room, your eyes flitting towards the suddenly flushing girls as you walked to the deluxe coffee machine, starting it on the job of pouring out some delicious coffee.

The gazes of the whispering interns bored at you, making you wince in irritation as you walked to the group of stylists you hung out with.

“Hyelim, any idea why the glossy eyed dames over there are eyeing me?” you asked straightforwardly.

The five girls made space for you to sit on the couch as Hyelim rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be so concerned about that. These girls almost always have something to gossip over.” She waved a hand dismissively but Jay-eon interrupted.

“It’s because of Taehyung, of course!” she said.

You sighed. “What did he do now?”

“Nothing personally bad, but his actions were pretty…obvious, the day of the show.” She mumbled.

You waited as they exchanged meaningful glances.

“Taehyung was pretty…antsy, when he came back off the stage and you weren’t there. When Leda told him that you weren’t feeling well and went home, he mellowed. That’s sparked some flints.”

“What kind of flints?” you asked; already dreading the answer.

“That Taehyung likes you,” Hyelim answered and you immediately snorted.

“Oh please, nothing like that is remotely possible, especially since if Taehyung is making my life hell, I’m repaying him the favor equally.” You laughed.

However, even as you conducted the Festival meeting, feeling Taehyung’s more than lustful gaze landing on you more often than not, you had to shake that thought off, reminding yourself of the conclusion you’d reached in his elevator.

“You want to visit family?” you asked, following the tall man out of the back door of the entrance, quickly making it to the front of him and looking around to check whether anybody was lurking out there or not.

Taehyung chuckled as you put a hand up to his chest to block him, head turning around. Pressing your hand closer to his, he nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me this at your place?” you demanded.

“Because if I had,” he paused when you wrenched your hand from under his, pouting, “You’d have found some way to counter it,” he finished.

His BMW rounded the corner and you both sighed in relief as the driver quickly opened the door for you two. Letting him go ahead, you shut the door as the driver pulled out of the alley.

“I’m not a cold hearted bitch, Mr. Kim. I wouldn’t get in the way of you seeing your family.” you told him.

Taehyung didn’t comment on it the whole way as you made it to his building.

“Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled, half to himself.

You decided to ignore the quiver in his voice.

“Just tell me ahead of time so I can make better plans, ok? You springing that out in the middle of the meeting did no one any good.” You said.

Taehyung shrugged before opening his door.

“Take the car for today. You can bring it to the airport with the driver tomorrow. Oh and, pack something hot.” He said, winking and your expression turned sour as he gave you the same blow-kiss again, shutting the door blatantly in your face.

You let out an irritated gruff.

“What an ass,” you said out loud, only realizing that it was Taehyung’s driver in the car, not yours. You shot him a wide-eyed sheepish look as his eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror. He gave you a sympathetic grin which had you sagging back into your seat.

“Your home, ma’am?” he asked and you muttered a ‘yes, please,’ turning to look out of the window, wondering what was going to happen tomorrow.

All was set.

You stared around your now spotless home, critical of the way you’d cleaned and packed up your essentials in your luggage set, you went to pick up your phone to check the time.

You had awoken well ahead of the time you needed to, laying awake in bed for a few minutes to see if you would get back to sleep again. At failure to do that, you decided to start on early.

Showering, taking care of bodily needs and beauty, you made a nice, wholesome breakfast even though one would be served on Big Hit’s private jet. Tasting spice content off your thumb, you’d rung up Taehyung and Taehyung’s driver as an impromptu wakeup call, before focusing on the chicken mince and eggs, you’d made for yourself.

At 8 sharp, with your luggage placed near the door, you’d spent an hour cleaning, dusting off the curtains and scrubbing the kitchen, just for the sake of the relief of coming back to a neat and tidy house when Taehyung’s driver had called you saying he was waiting downstairs.

Your flat heeled boots carried you to the gates of the terminal Big Hit used for its jet when you heard the gasping and sudden uproar.

Pushing your glasses closer, you squinted at the massive crowd, groaning internally when you felt your employer push himself to a faster pace, walking closer to his fans, the screaming doubling in noise as he reached over the security borders to grab a few hands while the other signed autographs.

You lingered behind, an eye on your watch as the seconds ticked away.

It wasn’t until he had given ten minutes of attention to the galore of girls and boys who would, in different circumstances, be paying through the nose for this chance that you nodded at his bodyguard to bring him back over to you.

The arrival of the Pilot, who gave you a warm handshake and introduced you to the air stewardesses and stewards, was a blessing as Taehyung, with a final wave to his fans moved after you to the ramp of the plane.

You had been inside a few private jets in your life, some business mogul or the other needing to take you with them to an abroad meeting or some such other thing.

However, you had to admit that Big Hit’s jet, by far, won hands down.

The inside was a startling white, with cream and dark brown fittings. There was a small fireplace in the corner near the entrance, the counter curving to show off a discreet bar.

The small walkway was dotted with a few small tables, the biggest one, and right at the back, surrounded by a circular couch. You chose to sit in one of the double seats, your purse dropped into the side seat as you watched the runway from the oval windows.

After a few minutes, Taehyung followed, huge shades covering his face as his lips quirked at the sight of the inside.

“Ah, I hope they stocked up.” He said, head turning to the bar when you stopped paying him any attention, instead looking at the Pilot who walked in.

“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Kim, we’ve had your luggage brought to the jet. Would you want it in with you or would you like us to put it in the storage?” he asked respectfully.

You looked at Taehyung who grinned at the man.

“Have it brought here, buddy,” he said and the Pilot bowed again before exiting.

For a few minutes as you watched the trolley of luggage being carried up, Taehyung chose to raid the bar, going around to the tender’s place and reading through the labels.

“You know drinks?” you asked, suspiciously as he pulled out a few bottles, inspecting them closely. Taehyung glanced once over at you before turning back.

“I might have some ideas.” He muttered.

You stared at his back, tight muscles covered by the expensive jacket, dark hair brushing his nape. A split second view of his hair wrapped around your fingers made you look away quickly to the stewardess who entered.

“We’re ready for takeoff, Ma’am, please take your seats.” She said.

You sat down, complying with the order, and both sets of eyes went to the man who continued to stand.

“Um, sir, we’re taking off. Please take a seat and fasten your seat belts.” She said again.

You looked at the girl to see flushed cheeks, a wistful, yearning look in her eyes and nearly face palmed yourself. Great, another one of Taehyung’s conquests…

“Taehyung, please sit, we have a schedule to keep.” You snapped out.

The stewardess jumped at your tone and looked down as the man himself turned to raise his eyebrows at you. “Don’t you want a drink?” he asked innocently.

“You can make whatever you want once in the air. Now sit,” you sighed.

Taehyung clicked his tongue, reluctantly shoving the bottles back and exiting the bar, walking over to the seats without casting a single glance at the other female in the area who wilted at his ignorance.

You kept staring at her, not noticing Taehyung reach for the bag you’d placed next to you and drop it to the seat behind you, plopping down beside you.

You flinched just barely as the stewardess went through the safety instructions, seeing as you were travelling with them for the first time. Her voice was mellow, quiet and neither of you paid any attention to her as she scurried away finally to her own seat as the plane began to taxi.

The next hour of the flight after takeoff was spent in reading from your tablet as Taehyung fluttered about the jet. He mixed a few drinks which he offered to you.

Peering up at him, you sipped delicately at one, finding it decent but refused a second one, making Taehyung sag a tiny little as he meandered about.

“What about my staff?” he asked suddenly.

“The festival management is providing your lodging and a select branch of staff. Outfits, stylists and media will all be funded from their side. You only need to go and be there to look pretty. I’m coming because I’m your manager.” You answered mechanically, answers ready to spout off.

“I…I can’t stay at home?” he asked again.

“No, aside from the fact that it will cause security problems, it will also be tedious for your family to have a gaggle of people show up at your place every day.” You answered again.

Taehyung fiddled with another bottle for a second before coming back to drop down next to you, jolting your arm. You gave him a look, crossing your legs and tilting your body away to protect some of your private space that Taehyung’s broad frame now occupied.

He sighed, playing with his clothes, twiddling his thumbs. It was clear there was something weighing on his mind but you made no move to put him at ease, resolutely poring over the news article.

“God, stop,” you whined at length as he continued to jump his leg, bumping it against your ankle.

“I wanted to…you know, say thank you,” he blurted out, making you pause and your eyebrows to jump up at the exclamation.

“What for?” you asked.

“You…uh, you let me go see my family.” he explained but you didn’t change your expression, prodding him to go further.

He took the bait, looking down at his knees as he played Thumb War with himself.

“I don’t really get to see them. Very rarely, since either I’m busy or you know…security reasons,” he pursed his lips a little. “Most of the managers tried to get out of the hectic work that involved me getting some time off just to see my folks. So they never let me go plus the company always has something for me to do.” He shrugged before looking up at me.

“I miss them a lot and I hate it more than I let on. So…thank you,” he said.

You blinked before nodding.

“Like I said, I’m not going to stop you from seeing you family, Mr. Kim. Everyone needs that.” You said.

“Exactly, that’s why I said so in the meeting. I realized that if anybody could pull it off, it would be you. I trust you.” He gave you his patent boxy grin, causing a questionable swoop in your stomach.

“Right,” you said weakly.

“I’ll go take a nap, in the room. Feel free to join me if you want.” He laughed a little and took off.

Somehow, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel disgusted by the innuendo.

Your arrival to Daegu airport was wrought with extra caffeine and a still sleepy Taehyung.

For anyone asking, sleepy Taehyung was overly snuggly – a trait you found endearing if not a little mind wracking as he managed to clutch on to you the whole way from the runway to the departure portal.

“Mr. Shin?” you questioned as the man with the stern façade approached you.

“Yes, you must be Miss Y/L/N,” he said, shaking your hand. “We’ve heard a lot about you.” he said.

“Thank you, do you have somewhere I could stash him at?” you asked, tired and exhausted at hauling your charge. He easily had ten inches on you.

Shin looked at Taehyung who even with his shades on, yawned large and wide.

“Yes, please, right here,” he flourished an arm to the side at the range rover and opened the door, letting you push him in first.

“You have to check in at the hotel first, before going to his house, Y/N. That way we can keep up appearances.” He said to you, voice low.

“What is something wrong?” you asked.

“Apparently, Taehyung’s plan of visiting family leaked out. We’ve had word from a lot of questionable people and media hovering near the hotel.” He said.

You groaned, rubbing a hand down your face in anger and defeat.

“We’ll handle it as well as we can. You just have to be careful.” He warned.

Nodding to the man, you climbed in after your boss as the car pulled out into the drive way.

Shin led you through the opulent entrance hall of the six-star hotel, where the festival was going to hold its gala and had booked rooms for its attendees.

It was unnecessary to say you were exhausted as fuck, the few minutes of nap grabbed in the car doing nothing to help as the caffeine you’d consumed slowly left your system.

Once at the reception counter, the crisply suited concierge intercepted you, annoyingly bright grin fixed on his face as he bowed to you. You bent at your waist as much as your stiff body would allow as Shin lowered his voice and began to speak to the man, eyes furtively looking about in case anybody would be listening in.

Shin finally beckoned you and Taehyung to the front. Your boss, who had dropped the shades and donned a face mask that hid everything but his eyes, began to fill out your information in both the hotel book and a special form that let the festival in charge know that you were checked in and accounted for.

The concierge thanked you and began to hand you your keys when Taehyung finally spoke up, just as you were reaching forward for your key.

“Wait, make it one.” He said.

The concierge, Shin and you both turned to look at him.

“What?” The man asked, nervously.

“The room, make it one.” Taehyung said.

“We booked two, sir.” Shin cut in but Taehyung ignored it, still watching the concierge who looked at you.

“Um, Mr. Kim, what are you…?” you began.

“I don’t want to be alone. I’m sure their security is amazing and everything but we’re going to be at my family’s house till the gala begins anyway. There’s no point in having two rooms. It’s inconvenient. Plus, I’d feel safer if you were with me at all times.”

You gave him a look.

“That’s not a good idea at all.” You pointed out.

If anybody – read Shin and the hotel dude – opened their mouths and the news got out that Kim Taehyung was sharing a room with his manager, it would cause a scandal, and it would affect you as well.

Taehyung frowned at you before turning to the concierge. “Where are the rooms now?” he asked.

The concierge looked down into the sheet.

“Miss Y/L/N is in the floor below yours, sir.” He said.

“Bullshit; put us in adjoining rooms.” He snapped.

“Taehyung, seriously,” you growled, already at the edge of your patience but Taehyung didn’t seem to be relenting. It was either sharing a room or the same wall. What the hell did he want you so close to him for? Was he…, did he think…? You hoped not.

Ugh, you were so not ready to deal with this.

“Fine,” you handed the man his key back. “Do as he says.” You sighed.

Your head tilted back to rest on the tiled edge of the small hot water pool, provided on the private bay of each celebrity’s suite.

Since Taehyung hadn’t emerged from his room since the check out you had assumed he’d promptly gone off to sleep and decided to take a soak in the pool where the hot water jetted against your more than sore muscles.

The vibrations from the water were slowly working to loosen your tight tendons, making you drowsy.

Just as your eyes were sliding to meet each other and a sigh of much needed sleep passed your sleep, you heard the glass doors of the balcony bay open and then padded footsteps. The small awake part in your brain wondered if it was a towel boy or something, until the water sloshed up around you, making you startle awake.

Your first sight was that of a familiar toned chest, bare and not too far from you. You followed the line down to where long, lightly muscled legs stretched out to barely touch yours, hidden by black swimming trunks, before flicking your gaze up to meet his eyes.

Taehyung took a second to say something, eyes raking over your nearly bare body as well before offering you a sheepish but smug smirk.

“Sorry to interrupt your slumber, princess.” He murmured.

You blinked and scoffed sleepily at him, not quite recovered as you debated whether to stay there or get up and leave, if only to get some space from his proximity if not to give him some privacy.

An increase in the water jets made your decision for you, as you sighed again, watching Taehyung fiddle with the small settings remote.

Your eyes closed back and head dipped to the tiles. You could clearly feel his gaze fixed on you and the heat flushing through your body was now more than just thanks to the hot water.

The sports bra and high waist shorts ensemble you’d chosen for your soak was definitely not enough to cover you up when Taehyung’s gaze burned as if he was melting the fabric right off of your body.

Your eyes opened when they couldn’t stay closed and ignorant of his gaze and turned them straight on to your boss.

Working for him for months had taught you that Kim Taehyung was the definition of many things, shameless one of them. If you had expected him to turn his eyes away, you were sorely disappointed. If anything, Taehyung, whose eyes had been fixed to the surface of skin right over your breasts and neck, simply met your eyes, eyebrows quirking in question, as if he expected you to say something.

“Do you want something?” you snapped finally, only realizing how the question would come across to him when he replied.

“I have almost all the things I could want, Y/N, except maybe one or two.” He said before giving you an angelic smile. “If I told you, would you be a good little manager and get me it?”

You raised an eyebrow, wondering what he would say.

“Well, you could try, but whether you get it or get sued might depend.” You warned and he laughed a deep, resonating sound.

It made you jolt in surprise, never having heard that kind of laugh from him before. His usual laughs were short, almost bitingly curt and almost always sounded derisive. When that was what you’d heard more than once, you’re learned to roll your eyes and take it that the Diva boy just didn’t find humor around him.

It was now that you learned that this was Kim Taehyung’s real laugh; free, ringing and absent of any disdain he loved showering people in.

It was a nice sound.

“What, why are you staring at me like that?” he asked, head tilted in confusion.

You straightened up, realizing a small smile had crept to your lips which you erased. “Nothing, I just…haven’t heard you laugh like that ever before.” You said.

A part of you wanted to smack yourself for showing that there were things you noticed about him but a larger part of you wondered if maybe noticing Taehyung himself would break down some of the ice in Kim Taehyung’s façade.

He blinked before looked abashed. “Whatever, I guess,” he mumbled, but he was clearly taken back at your observation.

He stretched a little bit more but his legs touched yours and he drew away before with a sigh of his own he moved, coming to sit beside you and stretching out further.

“Ah that’s better,” he said, arms coming up on both sides to rest along the tiled edge.

If anybody looked the way you were sitting, they would assume you were a couple…and then spread rumors. You frowned to yourself at that, about to get up.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, looking up at you.

“Going inside, I think I’m good.”

“Nonsense, sit down, you need this.” he said before laying his head back again.

Your body immediately slumped back against the wall, grateful for the indirect command as you did not want to leave the hot water just yet.

There was a surprisingly comfortable silence between you two till you broke it.

“You didn’t tell me what you wanted?” you murmured, feeling sleep creep back up on you.

There was a pause in which Taehyung opened his own eyes but kept staring up at the sky before he brought the remote to his eyes, pressing a button.

You immediately felt the water jets increase near your back and you let out a whimper, his head snapping to look at you. His eyes met yours and darkened just a little.

“Where do I start, Y/N?” he said, voice low and husky.

“I want to put my hands on you, feel the warmth of your skin against mine. I want to put my mouth on you, devour those pretty lips and feel them on me.”

A low gasp had escaped you and you were already backing away when he raised his hands to your face, wet fingertips lining over your cheekbones.

“More than anything else, though, I want you to actually fucking give in for once instead of just eye fucking me across a damn room.” He growled.

Taehyung tilted your face up just a tiny bit and you bit your lip to hide the quake that had over taken them at the very thought that Taehyung might actually kiss you. You wanted to push away but the rest of you, the exhausted part that just wanted to agree that you found Taehyung attractive had taken over, not allowing you to budge.

Just as you let go of your lip to say something, the water jet activated again, a streak of water hitting the side of your ribs just under your bust. Instead of a rebuke, a soft moan escaped your mouth, reddening your cheeks and blowing Taehyung’s pupils out completely.

The grip of his fingers increased on your face, holding you in place as with a muttered curse, he was smashing his mouth against yours.

You wondered idly later if maybe you had been drunk the first time Taehyung had kissed you. Maybe it had been the exhaustion, the mind numbing tiredness that seeped through your synapses, brought on by rigorous and continuous working. It was the type of numbness that only went away with a vacation, passing out drunk though you weren’t a fan of the hangover that followed, oh and maybe a night of wild romping.

It was this last thing that you were sure Taehyung could provide the best, his prowess well known.

So, that was probably why you put up approximately zero resistance.

Even now, as Taehyung pulled you tighter to him, arms wrapping around your waist, you could feel the warmth and distraction working to pull you out of your slump.

Your lips opened to him easily, letting his tongue sweep in and taste yours, entangling as you made out messy and sloppy. Taehyung soon hauled you on top of him, your legs on either side of his stretched out legs, straddling him right there…

You let out a drawn out moan when you felt how hard he was, just barely contained in the material of the trunks as it pressed against the crotch of your shorts and you felt him grind up against you as his hands began to wander from behind you.

You tilted your head back, letting his lips trail fire across your jaw line and down your neck.

The night air was cool, crisp but the pool and Taehyung felt so hot, they seared your skin.

It wasn’t until you felt him fiddling with the strap of your sports bra that awareness finally flooded through you.

This was wrong. Oh god, what were you doing? What if someone saw? You both would be faced with scandal; you would lose your job and your reputation. You would lose everything.

“No, wait,” you whispered weakly, eyes still fluttering at the way Taehyung was mouthing at the skin available to him. Your added height from his lap had put him in direct line of your chest and you couldn’t help but want him to continue. Only this time, you reigned yourself in.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, his voice already husky and low.

Your stomach tightened at the endearment and you fiercely reminded yourself he probably called every girl he kissed that.

“Stop, we can’t be doing this.” you said tensely, stiff in his arms and he pulled back just a tad bit, looking around.

“You’re right. Let’s take it to my room.” He said.

Your eyes flashed as he confirmed your thoughts. This was just a passing of time for him.

“I meant that we shouldn’t be doing this at all. You will go to your room and I will go to mine.” You said, pushing yourself away from him and clambering off his lap.

Taehyung blinked in confusion.

“What?” he asked, watching you climb out of the water and go to the lawn chair where you’d set your towel and pool dress.

“I think I made it clear, we need to be up and off tomorrow early if you want to safely get to your parents. We need to leave before the celebrities start to arrive, as does the mob.” You said wiping yourself off as best as you could.

In a way, you were also trying to wipe away his touch on you.

“Is that really what it is?” you felt a large hand clamp on your wrist and turn you around, right against his bare and wet chest.

You jolted away from him, wrenching out of his hold.

Taehyung furrowed his brows at your behavior, so different from how it was just moments ago. “What happened? Did I do something you didn’t like?” he asked.

You snorted.

Of course, that was what his mind would immediately jump to.

“Well, Mr. Kim aside from just violating my last clause, not much,” you sneered turning around to put on your dress.

“Your last clause…? The sexual harassment one…? What the hell, Y/N, we just kissed!” he seethed, volume lowering as he spat out the last sentence.

“You aren’t supposed to kiss your manager! You’re not supposed to flirt with your manager, you’re not supposed to stare at your manager like they’re your prey!” you winced at how shrill you sounded, as if you were close to tears.

You sort of were. You couldn’t lie and say you hadn’t ever thought of Taehyung that way but the very idea of his experience…and who and where he gained it from, made your stomach lurch.

You didn’t know if you wanted to keep letting him touch you, or be ashamed of your weakness. Both…maybe both…

Taehyung had his eyes wide, looking a little thrown and if you were reaching, even a little hurt.

“You’re…you’re not just…I mean, you haven’t been just,” he swallowed loudly, looking down.

“This, this right now, it shouldn’t have happened, Mr. Kim.” You whispered and watched him ball his fists before he was looking up.

The glare in his eyes made you physically shrink and he scoffed, sneering at your smaller frame.

“Whatever, Miss Y/L/N,” he hissed and you blinked, looking away as you bolted out of the bay, leaving him to watch after you.

The night didn’t go easy for you, tossing and turning in the spacious bed of the suite Taehyung had insisted you get. Huffing at the delicate throb between your legs and puffing at the slight ache in your chest at look on Taehyung’s face when you’d viciously chewed him out, you completely gave up on sleep, deciding on coffee in the unholy hours of 4:30 am.

You went to the small table right next to the suite entrance, flipping through the thick folder of the hotel to fish out the list of numbers you needed to dial to place your order when you heard it.

It was common knowledge that hotels, no matter how upscale were prone to having thin walls. So thin, that the conversations happening outside a room was easily available to the ears, which was why most staff were told to keep gossip to their private zones.

Of course, no one expects anybody to be awake at nearly five in the morning and they’d feel safe gossiping among themselves…right outside of the rooms.

“Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“The new room-maid, apparently she…did it…with him!”

“You don’t mean…?”

“I sure do,”

“Oh…my…god, he’s a GOD! How did she land him?”

“Oh please, you know him, are you really surprised?”

“Man, I’m so jealous. For god’s sake…KIM -,”

“Shut up! If someone heard us, we’d be fired.”

“Right, right, sorry,”

“Let’s just get back to work, before someone wakes up. We need to still do the rest of the floors.”

You heard the voices fade from range as they carried on chattering while walking. Your hands had frozen on the folder as you analyzed what you’d heard.

You were pretty sure it was Taehyung who was the center of the gossip, and he’d fucked some maid. A maid…

You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, the ache in your chest returning. How could he? He’d made you feel special for…what, ten minutes, before his true colors had jumped out.

You glanced down at your fingers, where they’d nearly ripped the sheet of numbers to shreds. Gritting your teeth, you went to the phone to order your coffee.

You were determined to not give him the time of the day. If he could show you that you weren’t worth much to him, you could return the favor well enough.

You didn’t wake Taehyung up, not bothering to call for him as you instead focused on packing a small bag of your necessities for the visit to his house.

You also forego packing anything special for him. If he acted up, you’d deal with it later. You were tired of always thinking of him prior to yourself, no matter if it was your job or not.

You sent your things to the car, waiting to take off when he arrived, rumpled and his clothes showing wrinkles in his shirt. There was a pause in which Shin and you eyed him and when he looked up, meeting your eyes, both of you looked away at the same time, nodding to Shin to indicate you were ready to leave.

It was a tense ride.

Taehyung’s family lived near the idyllic countryside, owning a farm of their own. It was a curious thing that Taehyung came from a non influential family but you quickly reminded yourself you didn’t care. It wasn’t your concern to worry about his roots, just where he spread his branches to.

You could feel Taehyung’s ire radiating off of his body, rolling against you as if you’d personally offended him. Maybe you had, but then so had he, treating you as if you were just a game he could play with and if it didn’t work, he could throw it aside and get another one.

Now that was where you took offence, never mind that you had been stupid enough to give in.

You chewed on your lips, lips that just a few hours again had been slotted against him, moving as if you both would combust if you separated.

Ugh, damn it all to hell, you thought, balling your fists.

You shifted in your seat and Taehyung, who had been sitting way to the other side at the other window stiffened, as if he was waiting for some movement on your part.

You glanced at him, only to find he was already eyeing you, a strange mixture of annoyance, frustration and something akin to hurt swimming in his eyes. You dismissed the last as your mind playing tricks on you. You looked away.

“You should let your family know that you’re on your way, Mr. Kim.” You said coldly, not wanting to say his name.

Did that girl say his name? Did she give him what he wanted from you easily? It must’ve been so. Not many girls would say no to Kim Taehyung.

You didn’t deign to look at him again after that thought for the rest of the journey.

Taehyung’s family house sprawled over the small valley of their farm. You could see strawberry fields looming at the back as you got out of the car, moving around to see Taehyung already out, running to a woman who was holding her arms out.

Even as you watched, Taehyung melted into the woman’s embrace, his larger frame easily covering hers.

A small pang went through you as you tried to remember the last time you’d been in a mother’s embrace, turning to look at Shin.

“You’ll be here till the time of the Gala.” He reminded you, handing you a list of timings and meeting schedule.

“Got it,” you murmured, waving once as he nodded to you, passing a curious glance over the animated actor behind you before he got back in the car, the driver pulling out of the driveway.

“Ah, have you brought a girl to meet with me, son?” you heard the coo of Taehyung’s mother and turned, feeling Taehyung’s gaze bore into you as he watched you, expressionless.

You avoided his gaze, putting on your charming smile as you walked to her with your hand out.

“No, ma’am, I’m Y/N, only Mr. Kim’s manager.”

It wasn’t your intention to be spiteful but the way Taehyung’s eyes darkened and jaw tightened in fury, you all but felt cold satisfaction.

However, you soon turned surprised as Mrs. Kim completely ignored your outstretched hand, moving to hug you instead, slender and soft arms, wrapping just as carefully around you as they had her son.

“I’ve heard so much about you, I feel like I already know you.” she giggled before pulling back to smile kindly at you. “Thank you for looking after my son, Y/N. I imagine it hasn’t been very easy.” She pouted at her son who looked down sheepishly, a tight smile on his face that vanished when he met your gaze.

“No, but I think I handle it ok,” you murmured, turning back to his mother.

She took a moment to look back at you from her son, a speculative look to her eyes as she glanced back and forth.

You spent more than half the day outside, walking along the farm and the small hill that overlooked the house. Taehyung, once inside didn’t acknowledge your existence and neither did you want him to.

Taehyung’s family, while having all sorts of modern amenities, still held true to the traditional ways. There wasn’t a chicken coop or anything but there was still a line to hang clothes, a hay shed, and miraculously, a large tractor in a looking garage…right next to a shiny Chevy.

You didn’t know if you were visible from the windows, aimlessly meandering or if they’d just remembered you but you turned to the calls of Taehyung’s mother, walking up to meet you at a heap of strawberry leaves. Her eyes, similar to Taehyung’s were glimmering but unlike her son’s they were still warm and jovial.

“Mrs. Kim,” you greeted politely.

“Oh you’re so formal, it’s unnerving.” She teased as she reached you.

“In my work, professionalism is necessary.” You returned with a smile and she tilted her head.

“I see; must be exciting working in all the sectors that you have, also at such a young age.”

“It’s more exhausting but yes,” you replied, looking over the hill. “You have a beautiful home.”

“How would you know? You haven’t been inside yet.” She said and you looked quickly at her to see her quietly laughing. “It’s peaceful here. We didn’t always live here, but the city became…hectic, after Tae became famous. His fans are amazing, but some can be a little…overwhelming. So, we moved here after Tae’s grandmother passed. It’s not too far away from the city and not so close that we would be…easily sought.”

“I can understand.” You said, sympathizing with her.

She was silent for a minute before smiling again at you, “Come, I’ll walk with you.” she said.

Mrs. Kim, gave you a small tour of the farm, or just explained the existence of the things you’d already seen. About how Taehyung’s grandfather had first purchased the tractor, how the hay shed was more like a place for Taehyung’s younger siblings to play in and other things.

“So, how did Taehyung get where he is now?” You asked suddenly.

She seemed surprised at the question.

“Surely, you must know, as his manager?” she asked.

You shrugged. “I have only been with him a short while and I don’t really like to pry in people’s past.” You murmured, not mentioning about how you’d heard of Yubin.

“Hmm,” his mother paused, considering. “Taehyung was quite the child when he was young, I suppose. Always up in some activity or the other…I don’t need to tell you how horrible his academics went.” She giggled, even your lips tugging into a smile.

“We never thought that he would be actively pursuing this line, mind you. We always thought he’d grow out of it, or finally start focusing on his studies…but then she came.” Mrs. Kim’s face darkened for a split second before lightening.

“Yubin, her name was. She was one of those actresses who do the occasional tour of their hometown just to raise awareness. I don’t know what Taehyung was doing, he was supposed to be out with a friend but he came home all excited. Told me about how he was scouted by Yubin herself and everything. I refused to believe a word of it but then she showed up herself, with her manager.”

Mrs. Kim turned to look over the farm.

“She took him with her to Seoul, set him to work and for a while everything was amazing. My son was doing what he loved, he was loved, and he had more money than we were used to. He could do, or be anything he wanted now. Soon, he came home…with Yubin again. This time, as his lover,” She sighed.

“We weren’t disapproving, per say of the relationship. Sure, she was a few years older than him, was more famous, and had many things to do about. It was just curious that she would take to seeing an up and coming actor. We accepted it though, for my son. He was happy with her. She seemed happy enough with him…”

“The blow for all of us came, of course, when he proposed. I doubt she was expecting it. I don’t know what she told him but the next day their troubles began. He would always call me and they’d be having a fight. She began to be colder, more distant. Soon, she just up and disappeared. It was later that Tae found about all the others.”

There was silence as I absorbed the new information…or rather history.

“My son…wasn’t what the papers make him out to be. He isn’t what I’m sure you think him to be. He was a child, a young man who just happened to fall for the wrong woman. After she left, he changed. He began to call less, visit less. We began to see atrocious news about our precious boy, we got cornered more. He grew more famous and popular yes, but I don’t think he sees the cost he paid yet. But we do,” she turned to give you a sad smile which made you drop your gaze.

A shrill burst of laughter erupted, breaking though the silence of the evening and both your heads turned, following the sound to see two young boys laughing, running out of the open door.

Seconds later, Taehyung followed, long legs carrying him after his brothers, the deep, booming genuine laughter you’d heard echoing over to you as he chased his siblings.

You watched as he tackled the small boy, falling to the grass, careful to push his body to ground first so the child wouldn’t get hurt as he began to tickle his sides.

The young child laughed harder, squirming in his brother’s arms as they were joined by the youngest, which jumped about, pointing and demanding attention.

You blinked fast, pressing your fingers to your chest where the ache had returned.

There might have been more to Kim Taehyung than you might have seen but just how much of it still remained in him, was yet to be seen.

You would give him space, but you weren’t sure if you were willing to put yourself out there just yet, especially not after this morning.

Shin sent you the car after dinner time, making sure that Taehyung at least had enough time spent with his family. You decided to forego dinner with the family, politely declining and saying you had some work to finalize and would have dinner at the hotel.

You didn’t miss the small exchange of eyes Taehyung’s mother shared with her son when he stiffly turned at your refusal, shrugging apathetically.

Plugging in your earphones, you began to tick down the list of meetings you had tomorrow with Taehyung’s outfitters and select media personnel he’d give interviews to, checking their faces and IDs when the car arrived to take you back to the hotel.

The ride back was even more uncomfortable than the first, now that you were concerned about your own feelings and you could feel him turn his head towards you more often, an indescribable look on his face.

When the car pulled into the underground parking of the hotel, you were the first out, clutching your thin tablet and papers to your chest.

“Y/N,” you heard Taehyung call but you didn’t turn to him.

“I’m hungry now. I’ll be at the dining hall, if you need me,” you said hurriedly, walking away as fast as your feet would carry you.

In the dining hall, where you put in whatever the first table of the buffet had to order, you sat by the window, looking out and sighing.

Now that you were back, the conversation you’d heard in the morning kept replaying in your head, making you press your fingertips to your temples and roll them when you saw it.

The mob had already arrived. You’d see it being parted as the car swept into the parking.

Now, apart from the mob, a gaggle of girls were standing outside the window. What was concerning was that their eyes were fixed on you.

Frowning, you raised your eyebrows challengingly to the girls but they didn’t stir, instead muttering to each other.

Now, you had had a few experiences with crazy people, girls and boys who wanted a piece of your charge or someone close to them but you had never seen this.

You had never been the one to be stared at.

Feeling a thread of worry unfurl in your stomach, you ditched your plate, deciding to just get room service in your suite’s safety and got up, picking up your things and leaving.

Stopping just near the elevator of the hall, you turned to see the girls gone.

Getting out on your floor was when you felt it. The feeling of unease you’d felt in the dining hall.

You turned, looking both ways into the hallways.

“Taehyung?” you called, hoping it was him, just him.

The door to the emergency stairway opened then and the girls came in.

There were four and very pretty. You frowned, were they workers, sisters, staff for one of the celebrities to be living on this floor? Why were they using the stairs instead of the elevator?

“That’s her. Taetae’s manager,” the girl who’d been staring at you said.

She had on a kitty hair band, you noticed, funny the things people register when cornered.

“Are you sure?” another asked, tilting her head. There was something oddly off about the girls, but then maybe you were just scared.

“Um, I think I have the wrong hall.” You muttered, turning to walk away.

“We saw you with him.”

You turned to see them walking towards you in a straight line.

“Yeah, so, I’m his manager,” you said, bluntly.

“You called him by his name. Who do you think you are, calling our man by his name? He should be only Mr. Kim to you, bitch.”

You bristled at the audacity before rolling your eyes.

“Ok, I’m going to give you ten minutes to get out of here. Otherwise, I’m going to have security call the police.” You said, bravely turning to walk away again.

A harsh pull on your hair stopped you, earning a yelp as you were tugged backwards.

You turned hair still in the bitch’s grip as your eyes watered, seeing her face twisted in rage.

“How dare you, talking to us like that? You fucking slut, we all know what you want from him!”

Your hand came up to clutch at her hand, digging in your nails to make her grip lose and she let go but the others tackled you, one of them catching you with the sharp edge of her nail as she grasped your neck, fingers digging into your throat.

Oh god, you were going to die.

You tried to buck her off, rolling to throw her off when you heard the commotion and a familiar shout.

“Hey! Get the fuck away from her!”

The girl looked up, her fingers loosening as black suited men surrounded the group.

“Taetae, hi, oh my god, we’re such huge fans. I’m sorry, I was just…” the girl stammered as she got off of you while you turned to your side trying to crawl away.

“Don’t, just don’t fucking talk to me,” you heard him bite before soft hands were cradling your shoulders.

“Y/N, hey, Y/N, can you hear me?”

You nodded as best as you could, ignoring the sting in your throat as Taehyung propped you against his knee before turning livid eyes to Shin and the concierge who had accompanied the security.

You watched as the black suited guys dragged the girls away in the service elevators.

“What the hell, man? Your security is fucking horrible. How did they get up here?” he yelled, making you wince.

“We’re so sorry, Mr. Kim. They must’ve used the emergency staircase. We don’t have a lot of men posted there.” The concierge spread his hands and Taehyung let out a scoff before looking at you.

“You’re lucky we got here in time. If anything happened to her, you can be sure you would pay…and not just in money. I’d personally make sure of that.”

“Taehyung, it’s ok.” You said softly and he looked at you, glare softening a little.

“Fine,” he grumbled as he stood up with you pulled along with him.

“Shin, make sure these idiots double everything. I don’t care who they put and I want Y/N watched as well,” he ordered, meeting with zero protests as he led me to his suite, shutting and locking the door after him.

The inside of Taehyung’s suite was similar to yours, the trademark pieces of the hotel’s furnishings, and a form of comfort to you.

He nudged you to the bed, sitting you down wordlessly before disappearing into the bathroom and rummaging in the cabinets.

You let out a slow exhale, closing and releasing your fists. Your neck was prickling where the girl’s talons had dug in and cut you and you badly wanted to scratch the skin.

Why did this happen to you? Why would you be targeted out of all the celebrities here? Were you just at the wrong place at the wrong time?

You groaned, dropping your head to your hands just as Taehyung emerged.

“The first aid kit isn’t all that amazing, but we can still disinfect and wash the cut – hey, what’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

Taehyung quickly placed the ceramic toothbrush bowl of hot water and the black bag of medical supplies on the nightstand, grasping your hands to pull them away from your face.

You shook your head and he let go of you, bringing a chair to sit in front of you, tearing open a pack of wet wipes and looking back up at you.

His fingers curved around your jaw line, tilting your head up and examining the crescents of nails on your skin, before running the cool tissue over them, wiping away any residual fluid that might have oozed out.

He dropped the tissue, before applying some antiseptic cream on the area and patting at it with gauze cloths.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” you asked curiously.

Taehyung didn’t answer. His warm brown eyes met yours and held the gaze as he continued to spread a thin layer of disinfectant on your skin with his fingertip.

You wondered whether he was avoiding the question when he looked away.

“I’m glad they didn’t harm you.”

“They almost strangled me. Nice, sweet fans,” you replied, watching the slight quirking of his lips.

“Not all of them are all so sweet.” He said.

“You’d know.” You said referring to the sasaeng he’d slept with.

He frowned immediately. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you mumbled, sighing.

You didn’t have to be so hard on him. Never mind, his issues with you right now, you were still his manager and he’s protected you, going to the front line himself rather than letting Shin or the hotel concierge do it for him.

“Listen, thank you for this, really, I’m sorry, I’m being mean.” You said.

He hummed, “Would your behavior have anything to do with what we…what happened at the pool?” he asked.

This time, it was your turn to frown at him.

“You’re one to talk. You managed to have your own fun and still acted like a jerk the whole day.” You argued.

Taehyung’s eyebrows rose up.

“I didn’t have my fun. I wasn’t just having fun with you, Y/N.” He said coldly.

“I’m talking about the maid.”

Taehyung looked genuinely confused.

“What maid?” he asked.

“The maid that you,” you paused, looking up as Taehyung tilted his head, waiting for you to continue. “You know what; we don’t have to do this. I’m going to my room. Thanks again,” you said, about to stand when he placed a heavy hand on your knee.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered his voice stern.

“The maid you slept with, Taehyung. There, I said it,” you sneered and he blanched.

“Whoa, whoa, wait right there, I did not sleep with any maid.” He blurted out, eyes widening as he raised both hands in surrender.

You rolled your eyes.

“I heard two housekeepers talking about it this morning, Taehyung. Drop it,” you said sharply and Taehyung frantically gripped your shoulders.

“I’m not lying to you, I swear. It must have been some girl trying to start a rumor. I was in my room ever since you left me at the pool and I didn’t come out till the call for the car came. I swear on my mother.” He said; breathing fast as he leaned down to look into your eyes, making sure he got the point across.

You blinked as he said it and looked down. “Oh,”

“I just thought…I didn’t put out with you so…you know, you went to get…”

Taehyung curled a finger under your face, pulling it up so you would look at him. His eyes were intense.

“I can understand why you would think that. I know I haven’t been the most…chaste person around but I can promise you, Y/N, what happened between us at the pool, was not because I was horny and wanted to just fuck. I mean I did want to but not just to pass time or anything. I want you, really. I haven’t messed around with anyone ever since the concert. I can’t think about it with anyone else but you now. I’m not going to mess this up by doing that with just anyone. If I want to change how you think of me, I’m going to have to change how I act, don’t I?” he said, quietly.

Your mouth parted as you absorbed what he told you.

Did he really feel like this and was just acting like a douche? Or had he stopped acting like one and you’d just never noticed…?

“Taehyung,” you said softly and he hummed again in question.

You leaned in slowly; feeling him tilt his head as well as you placed a delicate kiss on his lips.

Taehyung dragged in a halting breath, cool and warm at the same time against your skin as he opened his mouth under your pressure.

He was gentle this time, palms wrapping around your cheeks as he held you softly to him, curving towards you as he pecked your lips in short tugs.

“I was,” he kissed you again.

“So worried, when I saw you on the floor like that,” he pulled away to press his lips to your nose.

“I think I would’ve exploded right there.”

You shushed him, pulling his lips back to yours. “I’m fine now.” You said, before pulling away.

Taehyung didn’t let you go completely. “Stay here. It’s not safe for you to be alone anymore. I don’t know if Shin and that man doubled up security or what but I want to keep any eye on you.” he said.

You smiled softly, feeling his hands entwine with yours as you nodded. “Okay.”

As much you would’ve loved to spend the morning in Taehyung’s warm embrace the next morning, his long arms wrapped tightly around your midriff as he buried his head against your back, you couldn’t.

The film festival had officially begun and so had your work day.

Your first meeting was with the hall organizer, calling in to tell you where the entry and exits were, what the protocols for safety and…private areas were.

You shifted from Taehyung’s grip, slipping out just as he groaned, turning on his back.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I need to go meet with Shin and the hall manager. So, you can look pretty when you enter the gala in the evening.” You told him, going into his bathroom and groaning lightly at the state of you.

Both Taehyung and you had fallen asleep with clothes on and now your shirt and pants were wrinkled. No way were you going to present yourself like this.

You ducked out while putting your hair into a ponytail to see him already standing, looking up at you with a small hopeful glint in his eye.

“What is it?” you asked warily and he jumped up, walking to the large closet lining one side of the room and pulling out a heavy black garment box.

He turned to you with his lips tucked between his teeth, advancing before presenting the box to you.

“Um,” you glanced between his and the box and he chuckled.

“I was…well, I was going to ask you to be my date for the Festival before the pool thing happened. Now that everything is fine between us, I’d like to try again.” He said.

You dropped your gaze to the box again.

“It’s something I liked while shopping when you were sick. I had it customized in your size.” He explained.

“How do you know my size?” you gasped.

Taehyung rolled his eyes before dropping the box to the bed, arms curving round your waist to pull you closer to his chest as he dropped his head near your ear.

“I have been watching you for months now, Y/N. You don’t think I can make an accurate guess as to your sizes?” he asked, chapped lips running over your lobe and you giggled, pushing at his chest.

“Fine, whatever, you creep, I’ll see you later.” You said, escaping his hold and swiping the box off the bed, making a hasty dash for your room.

The hall was already decorated, marble flooring gleaming and reflecting the domed and chandelier-studded ceilings as you circled in the huge space.

The skirt of your outfit brushed along your knees as you turned, taking in the opulence with a soft smile on your face.

Your talk with the hall manager had gone by smoothly as he explained how and where the attendees would be coming in from, the way the media would have access to them and how they would be escorted back to their rooms in clear detail, going as far as to explain that he would made doubly sure to not let in any obsessed fan.

You nodded solemnly at that, thanking him as he left you, politely bowing out.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

You jumped; startled as you whirled to see another woman had joined in on your solitary enjoyment.

You stuttered in your steps a little before politely nodding, adding a small bow to the seemingly older women just as she turned to you.

She was beautiful, of course she was.

Her hair, a gleaming black was pulled back into a swinging ponytail that brushed the middle of her back, the lines on her face only adding to her ageless beauty.

“It is,” you agreed and she smiled.

“It’s been a while since I was asked to be a part of something like this. I couldn’t refuse this time.” She tilted her head to you a little. “I am Yubin.” She introduced herself and for a full half minute you gaped, your eyes widening.

This was Yubin? The Yubin? The one who had supposedly broken Taehyung’s heart and maybe even ruined the kind hearted boy and turned him into a bratty young man?

“I…I…I’m Y/N,” you said quietly.

“Oh…I’ve heard of you.” She said, surprise coloring her voice before the smile returned. “You’re quite famous in our circles.”

“I suppose. It’s all hard work and no sleep.” You mumbled.

“All work in our line is,” she sighed.

“So…are you back? Are you going to act again? Is this a promotion?” you asked, trying not to sound as if you were prying and she shrugged.

“I haven’t considered a return just as of yet. I wasn’t going to come but after a perusal of the attendees I had to come.”

It wasn’t caught out of your notice that she definitely had to mean Taehyung. The notion that she wanted to see him again made a slow flame light under your chest and your fist tightened.

You were about to take your leave in case you said something that would cause you problems when the door swung open again but this time it wasn’t the Hall Manager.

It was Taehyung.

His hair was parted, showing a sliver of his forehead and his grin was palpable.

You didn’t give much of a reaction as he began to walk up to you, not even noticing the other woman…or rather the woman.

“I was wondering where you were and Shin told me you had this meeting. I wanted to…”

He trailed off as your eyes darted to Yubin who had stiffened upon hearing his name, slowly turning to look at him. Taehyung for his part was slow to react. His voice quieted till he went completely silent and he froze in his steps, looking as if he had seen a ghost.

From what he had told you, it would certainly seem that Yubin was a ghost as she blinked gently at him.

“Hello, Taehyung, it’s been a long time.” She said softly, a demure smile on her face and Taehyung faltered.

Your heart fluttered to see this, wondering if you should leave now but also not wanting to. His eyelids dropped as he closed his eyes and he took a deep inhale. His lean frame was coiled, tight with tension even as he exhaled and you were surprised to see his open eyes find yours.

Only this time, they weren’t jovial and affectionate, not even dumbfounded.

No, they were enraged.

Without another word, he was marching past Yubin, brushing by her without another glance at her and he latched on to your arm, tugging you with him out of the private exit, leaving her behind.

Taehyung didn’t let up till you were way out of the earshot of people, climbing the stairs to some other floor with you trying to keep up with his long legged stride that you said something.

“Taehyung!” You snapped, yanking your arm out of his vice like grip.

He stopped to look at you, eyes still burning with fury and began to back you against a wall, hands coming up to both sides of the wall near your head, caging you in.

“What did she say to you?” he demanded.

“Nothing, jeez, she had just opened her mouth. We just introduced ourselves when you came in.” You said, trying to not seem so small with him towering over you.

Taehyung still squinted at you suspiciously. “Don’t trust her, Y/N. You…you shouldn’t have been in there with her alone. I should’ve paid more attention, I’m sorry.” He ducked his head in a sigh and your face softened.

“Hey,” you reached up, curling your fingers along his jaw to tilt his head up. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. She didn’t do anything, ok?” you said and even though his eyes still hardened at her mention he didn’t push it.

“I’m just…I don’t want her to screw up another thing in my life.” He sighed and you nodded in understanding.

“Nothing’s screwed.” You reassured and he smiled at you fondly before leaning further in, encasing your lips in his.

A groan escaped him as he pressed you against the wall, one arm winding around you to curve your body to his, tongue swiping against your bottom, asking for permission.

You put your hands against his chest, letting his gently slide the muscle in and entwine with yours.

“Y/N,” he murmured against your mouth when a sharp ping made you both jump away from each other.

You looked around wildly before Taehyung pulled out his own phone.

“It’s just mine.” He said before his brows furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” you asked and he shook his head, putting the phone down.

“It’s nothing. I have something to do now. I’ll see you in the gala, ok? Wear the dress, you’ll be beautiful.” He gave you his trademark glittering grin before he was vanishing back downstairs.

You might not agree with Taehyung on a number of things, but as you opened the garment box in your suite to get ready for the evening, you had to say you completely agreed that you were going to look good in the dress he’d picked out.

You’d showered, moisturized, perfumed and now you were standing in front of the full length mirror in the dress.

The lace overlay gown was stunning, blush color flowing down into a gossamer skirt that felt like water against your skin as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

Glancing back at the selection of dresses that Taehyung’s stylists had brought in for you, you sighed, running your hands down the shimmering material, decision made.

You were wearing Taehyung’s dress.

Grabbing a white clutch and a few necessities, you made your way out of the suite, tracing an eye across the floor just in case.

You weren’t scared of anything else happening but after that one time, you sure were going to be extra careful.

You cast a look down the hall to Taehyung’s closed suite door and smiled softly, wondering how he would be looking in the suit you’d helped the stylists choose. The red accents would be beautiful against his skin, you’d thought.

While you were excited to attend the Gala with Taehyung at your side, you couldn’t forget you were here to work first and foremost. One last glance at Taehyung’s door and you got into the elevator, going downstairs to meet Shin to make sure everything was perfect and safe.

Cameras flashes, soft classical music alternating with the latest hits in the industry blasted across the glorious hall. It was difficult to take in that the Grecian hall you’d seen in the morning was now hosting so many stars.

You smiled at a few business men you recognized, making sure to steer clear of the celebs getting their picture taken. Glancing at you studded watch you noted that it was about ten minutes till Taehyung would make his entry and you bit your lips in anticipation, smiling along to whatever one of your ex employers was saying.

“I’ll be honest; I wouldn’t have thought that you would ever work for an Actor.” The man said.

“Me neither, but here we are,” you said, smiling as you sipped at your champagne.

“Hmm and how has Kim Taehyung been treating you?” the man returned the sly smile and you glanced at your watch again, frowning when you saw it was past his time.

“Kim Taehyung…is late, as a matter of fact. Will you please excuse me?” you asked and the man snorted, already muttering about how you’d d well to return to the businessmen, who were at least punctual.

You nodded alone as he walked away from you, pulling out your phone to dial Taehyung.

No answer, the phone going straight to voicemail.

You let out an irritated grunt as you craned your neck to find Shin. Spotting him near the appetizers table you walked up to him.

“Shin, where’s Mr. Kim?” you asked.

Shin blinked down at you as he munched down whatever it was he was eating.

“He…well, he asked to have his entrance pattern changed.” He said.

“Excuse me?”

Shin glanced around before nodding. “He came up to me and told me to make a few changes.”

“Why wasn’t I notified?” you demanded.

“He told me you already knew. Now, I think he was lying.”

“Obviously,”

The quickly darkening look on your face must have alarmed Shin because he quickly spoke up. “I’ll go talk to him, if you wish.”

You shook your head.

“No, I’ll do that. Thank you,” you added quickly and walked away.

Your hand moved to pluck another champagne glass from a passing waiter and chugged it down.

Great, Taehyung seemed to have reverted back to his original ways. This was going to be a very long night.

“Y/N,” you looked up from your phone to meet Mil’s eyes, already holding two champagne glasses in her hand.

“Mil, fancy seeing you here,” you mumbled, dropping your eyes back to your phone.

It had been a full hour and you were bored out of your mind, waiting for Kim Taehyung’s arrival.

If it had been anybody else, a date or something, you would’ve walked out a long time ago but seeing as this was your job, you had to grin and bear it.

Almost everyone who knew you here could tell you were in a bad mood, brow perched low and lips downturned.

“Where’s the brat?” Mil asked, pushing the glass in your hand.

“I don’t know. Apparently, he doesn’t need to notify his manager where he’s fucking off to and why he won’t pick his phone up.” You growled.

She sighed, sitting down on the stool beside you.

“I’m sorry. I really feel like I pushed you into something terrible.” She said.

“No, I agreed to do it,” you sighed and laid your head down on the cool counter as Mil watched you suspiciously.

“Did something…happen? You would usually be a lot more pissed than this.” she said.

You eyed her as she watched you before looking down.

“He…I…we might have kissed.” You mumbled.

There was a pause before Mil was shaking her head. “Oh Y/N, you know better…”

“I do…I mean, Taehyung wasn’t, he said he didn’t want to be known for what he acted like.” You protested but Mil didn’t look convinced.

“Pretense is only a façade until it becomes habit, Y/N. Then it’s behavior. Then it’s the person themselves. You cannot change a person.” She said before turning to look away.

“Taehyung has been known to try with anything that moves. We all thought you might not be one of those people. I guess we were wrong. I’m so sorry, I pushed you into this.” she looked so crestfallen for you that you stayed speechless.

Mil and you didn’t speak again, the silence unbearable and uncomfortable.

It was only broken when the crowds went crazy near the door. Mil and you both stood up to see who had arrived and your breath caught in your throat.

No…it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t do this…

He was beautiful as usual, angelic with his rectangular smile on proud display. He was also wearing a different suit, not the one you’d chosen. He was wearing one to match her.

Had you really been so stupid and blind?

He wouldn’t…he couldn’t…

You shook yourself mentally.

Yes, of course, he would…he could and he had…he had done exactly as you were seeing him.

You really had been a stupid, blind fool.

Taehyung had played you easily, easier than a fiddle. You had been so taken with trying to get to the bottom of the mystery that was Kim Taehyung you’d forgotten the basics. Of course, he was different with his family. It was the tabloids that managed to get to the truth after all, not his mother. No, his mother had been played just like you, too fond of the idea of her perfect son to see what he truly was.

Your eyes drifted to Yubin, who looked ethereal in all white, raven hair flowing down her back, all smiles and poses.

They were marvelous together.

“Y/N,” you heard Mil call for you but it was almost as if you were underwater.

You couldn’t be here right now.

“I’ll see you later, Mil.” You muttered before grabbing your clutch and downing the glass of champagne and rushing out, from one of the side exits.

Your anger lasted well past the night.

You’d stared at your reflection, looked at the makeup on your face and the dress. It felt dirty against you now. Quickly shedding off the fabric you hadn’t bothered to keep it away properly, letting it disgracefully lie on the floor.

Your fists were balled now, the cotton ball clutched frantically.

You had never felt so dumb in your entire life, not even during your first job when you’d flirted with the son of your boss. At least they’d taken it in good humor.

This, though, you wouldn’t take in good humor.

Your pride was hurt, your ego bruised and you were vindictive.

Taehyung had probably waited all this while to pay you back for the iron leash you’d placed around his neck and he’d succeeded magnificently.

You wanted to laugh at yourself, but at least you hadn’t shed tears. You wouldn’t.

You had only about three more years to work for Kim Taehyung. You wouldn’t back out of the clause. You would do the term and then drop him, never to see his face again.

Something in you had started to ache again, but you ignored it, mercilessly squashing it.

Your decision made, you’d still felt restless the next morning.

Apart from the numerous messages Taehyung had sent and calls you’d missed, each one demanding where you were and why you weren’t replying.

Anger and hurt had made you delete nearly everything but his contact, walking out of the suite to go down to the dining room to get breakfast instead of ordering it via room service. You weren’t sure if Taehyung would show up at your doorstep, or if he had…spent the night with her.

The elevator dinged its arrival and you entered it.

Just as the door began to slide shut, a hand grasped the end of one, the door stopping its slide. You jumped, wondering for a split second if Taehyung had managed to catch you after all but the man who came into your sight was not him.

Round faced and cute, Park Seojoon entered the elevator with a somewhat embarrassed grin pointed at you, bowing a little. “Ah, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You chuckled, bowing back to one of your favorite actors. “No, sir, you didn’t.” you returned.

“Sir,” he laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Please, don’t be so formal. You may call me Seojoon. You’re Taehyungie’s new manager, right?” he asked.

The mention of his name soured you just a tad and you just nodded listlessly.

He watched you a second, head tilted as the elevators opened at the dining room.

“May I sit with you? I would rather not dine alone.” He said.

“Oh,” you blinked at him.

Park Seojoon inviting you to sit with him? How could you ever refuse?

“Of course,” you smiled, leading him to the window seat you always ate at.

Seojoon followed you obediently, ordering for the both of you before sitting down in front of you.

It was a great breakfast.

Seojoon was funny, endearing and over all a charming company. The dining room, even though filled with a few of the celebrities who’d been attending at the festival was empty of Taehyung and Yubin and you were happy for it.

“So, is Taehyung treating you right or do I need to kick some sense in him?” he asked finally as you winded up.

“Oh, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Would you be accepting of one more thing to handle tonight then?” he asked suddenly, turning to look at you.

You paused as you stood beside him, watching him curiously.

“Would you like to attend tonight’s gala with me? If I’d known you earlier, I would’ve asked you for both the evenings but at least this way I get to spend the rest of the festival with the perfect companion.” He smiled his sweet smile.

You flushed, looking down at your shoes to grin.

Unbidden, Taehyung’s face rose up in your eyes but just like before, you quelled it.

“Of course, I would love to.” You grinned.

His answering smile was blinding. “That’s awesome.”

The second gala was the real opening of the festival. In which actors promoted their new projects, interacted with each other, and could exchange merchandise.

This time you’d picked out your own gown, a shopping trip acting both as retail therapy for you and you also didn’t want to wear one of the dresses sent by Taehyung’s outfitters.

Seojoon had kindly sent you a picture of the outfit he was going to wear and you had bought a gown specially to match it, quite proud of your selection.

Now standing next to Park Seojoon, you were actually struck by how much difference there was between Taehyung and his Hyung.

While Taehyung was enigmatic, yes, there was always doubt in the back of your mind as to his next move. With Seojoon, his maturity easily showed. He was quieter, open, and actually showed up; making your mouth drop open to how amazing he looked.

If the way his eyes popped out as well was any indication, you knew you’d done a good job.

“You really do look amazing.” Seojoon said again just seconds before the doors swung open. You ran a hand down the crimson ball gown and grinned, your cheeks tinted just right as he walked in, your arm wrapped around his.

You’d been right in estimating the type of date Park Seojoon would be.

He was attentive, a good listener and endearing, introducing you to people whose first commendation came always in the way you had switched so brilliantly from Business to the Entertainment industry. Each mention of Taehyung’s name felt like a lemon being squeezed on you yet you kept up the grin.

“Well, she is just plain amazing.” Seojoon smiled, patting your shoulder appreciatively and you preened. Attending a gala with your celebrity crush would do that to you.

The crowds, which tended to scream just as a celebrity entered the hall, screamed louder and you turned away immediately, already sure of whom it was. They must have finally arrived.

Seojoon leant in, smile fixed in place, “Dance with me?” he asked.

You returned his smile. “Yes, please.”

You said and he led you to the glittering marble floor.

After a quick dance to one of the slower hits of a singer, you and he bought some of the merchandise to be delivered later to your rooms and talked to the other veterans in the industry. Seojoon introduced you to a few of his co-stars who were more interested in what went into being Kim Taehyung’s manager than you.

You spied Taehyung a few times in the midst of the stars and not once did he look happy. His mouth was pinched, eyes flaming and he’d dropped Yubin somewhere. He also seemed to be avoiding the eyes of everyone who stopped to talk to him. You squinted to be able to see if he was drunk or not when Seojoon began to excuse the both of you.

Seojoon and you walked up to the bar.

“Man, I have about an hour more to do this and then I can go back to my room.” He sighed.

“Lucky, I’ll probably have to stay for Taehyung.” You sighed, already worried about his disposition.

He leant over the counter for the bartender and shrugged. “Well, then I suppose I should stay here with my lovely date so I don’t miss any more time of her company.” He flirted and ordered a few martinis, talking about the merchandise both of you had ordered.

When the drinks arrived, Seojoon turned to you seriously.

“Is there something wrong with Taehyung and you?” he asked.

You nearly choked on your drink, making Seojoon calmly reach over to rub your back as he offered you a napkin. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“No, I mean, why would you even ask me that?” you asked.

“Well, any mention of Taehyung seems to make you upset, you didn’t look at Taehyung when he entered, you avoided all the stalls that have Taehyung’s goodies and he’s been looking at you ever since he’s caught you, all angry and red in the face.” He said.

It was a mark of your control that you didn’t turn to look to find Taehyung when he said that.

“Look, I won’t pry but if you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” He said.

You’d just opened your mouth to say there was nothing wrong when a shadow fell over your corner.

“Y/N,”

Seojoon and you both turned to look up at the intruder, making you let out a small gasp at the sight.

Taehyung was drunk. His hair, usually perfectly styled was messed up, half of the strands standing up and his skin was clammy, eyes bloodshot.

The only thing that was halfway in focus was his gaze that was fixed on the less than respectable distance between you and his friend.

“Taehyung,” Seojoon was the first to speak, leaning away from you, surprised to see his friend so far gone.

Taehyung’s eyes flitted to him. “Hyung,” he sneered, “Having fun?” he asked, eyes roving to yours.

You bristled, immediately understanding what he was hinting at. You stood up. “Taehyung, you should go to bed now.” You said.

“Sure, come with me, unless you want to stay here with Hyung and…have some more fun.”

You winced, glancing at Seojoon who stood up as well, walking forwards to place a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Taehyung-ah, you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying. Let’s get you to your room ok?” he said soothingly.

Taehyung scoffed, throwing off Seojoon’s hand. “I’m fine, Hyung. If you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to my manager.”

Seojoon looked weary at that. “I don’t think it’ll be appropriate if I let her go with you in this state.”

“No, it’s fine.” You said quickly, already noticing the brewing anger and outrage in Taehyung’s eyes but Seojoon shook his head, “It’s not, Y/N.” He said and struck out a hand to stop you from going to Taehyung.

“Hey, don’t touch her!” Taehyung yelled immediately.

Seojoon’s eyebrows rose, hand still out as people began to look around, murmuring and pointing your group out.

“Taehyung, stop, he’s not ok, he’s not doing anything. Seojoon, please, he’s making a scene, let me take him out of here.” you gripped Seojoon’s arm in panic.

“I’m making a scene? Of course not, dearest Y/N. why, I’m in perfect control. Now come with me, now.” Taehyung growled.

“I can’t let you go with him, Y/N. I’m sorry but he’s not safe.” Seojoon said sternly and Taehyung lunged.

“No, Taehyung stop!” you screamed as Taehyung threw a punch. You didn’t know if it was the drunkenness or Seojoon’s military training but he quickly caught the fist, pushing his younger friend away.

“What the hell are you doing, Taehyung? I’m your friend.” Seojoon hissed and you slipped past him, grabbing Taehyung’s arm.

“Friends don’t hurt each other the way you did, Hyung.” Taehyung spat and then Shin was there, wrapping his arms around the struggling man.

By now a crowd had gathered around you and your ears burned in shame. But this wasn’t the time to be ashamed of his actions, you thought as you caught the cameras pointing at him.

“What do we do with him?” Shin asked.

You met Taehyung’s angry stare with your blank one. “Take him to his room and stay with him. Don’t let him leave. I’ll have to handle this.” you said as Shin began to usher the man to the exits.

Taehyung seemed to have given up the fight; figure slumped as he looked imploringly at you.

“Y/N,” you heard him say before the doors shut and the murmuring picked up again.

You turned to Seojoon urgently, examining his face for any hurt.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I doubt he is though.” Seojoon brushed off your concern.

“I’m so sorry about this. I really am.”

“Don’t be, Y/N, I enjoyed myself tonight. You should go to him, he’ll need you.” he said, offering you a pursed smile.

“And if you need me, you know where to find me,” he added just as you turned to leave, the whispers following you all the way to your room.

“I don’t understand!”

Mr. Bang slammed a fist on the wooden table.

“I do not understand why Taehyung would get drunk and pick a fight with Park Seojoon of all people. They are brothers, they are so close.”

You chewed on the end of your pencil as you tried to seem as if you were in thought. And so you were, thinking about the last 72 hours. Those were the critical period in which a crisis in image management could be resolved.

You’d flown back home in Seoul to deal with the media printing out the news of Taehyung’s fight with Park Seojoon. You’d managed to quell almost all of the further speculations in good time but the video proof had been spread and even gone viral.

You’d seethed at him internally for putting you on the spot and if he’d been here you’d have hit him.

You’d called Seojoon to tell him you were going back and he’d forwarded his desire to see you when you and he were free, a prospect you’d gladly taken up before you were on the flight back home, leaving Taehyung behind to complete the festival events, under the sharp watch of Shin.

Besides, there was more you had to do.

After a long time of consideration, you had decided to let go of your contract with Kim Taehyung. There was no way you and he would be able to work together like this. Not when Yubin was concerned and not when his own actions towards you were so questionable.

You’d put yourself out there twice and he’d smashed both those chances.

You were done with him.

So, here you were sitting with Jinyoung and Chanyeol again.

“I don’t know, Mr. Bang. And frankly, I don’t care. I cannot work with someone who has zero self control and I’m not willing to be his impulse inhibitor.” You said harshly.

Mr. Bang sighed.

“I thought after this time…I must’ve been wrong.” He said.

Your jaw clenched as your gut told you what he was hinting at.

“Well, seeing as my client doesn’t have any further ties to Big Hit, we’d like to take your leave now.” Chanyeol said, chancing a look at your face.

You had never been so thankful for your friends before. Mil’s mistake had made you remove the clause in which you had to find a suitable substitute for Taehyung.

You’d submitted your resignation and had only to wait for Taehyung to return to sign its acceptance.

Meanwhile, you were taking a vacation. You’d earned it.

“…and I would also like to ask for Seojoon’s forgiveness. I know what I did was way out of line and I cannot stress how ashamed I am that I got inebriated enough to hit one of my closest friends. I’m just happy he and my manager weren’t hurt.”

Your hands froze in the act of chopping up tomatoes for your dinner.

You hadn’t heard from Taehyung ever since that fateful night and the sudden onset of his deep tenor voice made you stop every motion as you listened.

“I would also like to explain the reason why I was so inebriated. I was under a forced deal. It was so stressful that I acted out in an atrocious manner towards my manager. She had been kind enough to bear with it but I feel now is the time to stop dragging her through the dirt like this. I can only ask for forgiveness, I’m afraid.”

You walked out of your kitchen to see him on the news channel.

Sitting on a panel, surrounded by Shin and Mr. Bang his head was bowed as he narrated his side of the events. About how he was drunk, how he didn’t mean it, how he was sorry…

You let out a scoff at his face. He was a fantastic actor; of course he would be magnificent in this role. After all, he was the nation’s Golden boy. He’d be forgiven anything.

The knock on your door, made you turn, frowning at the late visitor and opened the door a crack before gaping.

Taehyung’s head was bowed now as well, cap down turned, and mask on but it was easy to tell it was him. You’d always be able to recognize him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked, opening the door further.

His head rose to look up at you, small eyes brightening at the sight of you.

You looked around the hallway before ushering him in.

“Well?” you demanded, crossing your arms as he took his time, pulling off the cap and mask.

“I…I came to see you.” he said.

“Right, well you saw me, now you should leave.” You said coldly.

Taehyung’s face fell at that. He took a step forward, towards you. “Y/N, please, I’m sorry,” he paused, head turning to see him on your screen.

You and he watched him as the press conference repeated some snippets and you sighed, moving to the kitchen to pick up your knife again.

“Are you going…to stab me or something?” he asked, appearing in the doorway.

You rolled your eyes.

“No, but I do want you to leave.” You stressed.

“Y/N,”

You could feel him step into the kitchen, arms reaching for you before he sighed, dropping them.

You waited, seeing if he would actually leave.

“I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know what I have to do. I need you to tell me. Just say it and I’ll do it. Anything to get you back,” he whispered.

You paused, watching him out of your periphery.

“I…I’m just a farm kid, Y/N. I don’t have much experience with this but I know I screwed up again. All I’m asking is for you to understand.” He said again.

You turned to face him.

His face had drooped, lips pouting.

“Why did you do it? Why would you go back to her? You didn’t even have the guts to tell me.”

“I didn’t go back to her!” Taehyung shook his head vehemently. “That’s the last thing I would do. I know I sound like I’m shifting blame but she…she’s the reason why I’m like this.”

He sighed before slumping down into one of your dining chairs.

“You know that Yubin was the one who scouted me but when I got popular enough, successful enough we began to date. I was…mesmerized by her. She was beautiful, smart, everything that a small town kid like me could want. I would’ve married her in a heartbeat. Of course, I knew my family didn’t exactly approve but…I honestly didn’t care. I proposed.”

He gave a bitter laugh.

“She said no, of course. It changed her. She began to stay out late, took more far off projects, leaving me behind. It wasn’t until later, when we broke up that she told me about all the other…men and women. I wasn’t experienced enough, not good enough for her. She wanted more. She didn’t want to settle with me.”

He broke off and you didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that it must’ve hurt.

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? We broke up and she left, retired. I became The Kim Taehyung. What you see in front of you now, is thanks to her.” He looked up with a hollow look on his face.

“I slept around, did everything to become more like her. Maybe then I’d be good enough but she never returned. After a while, I began to act like that out of habit. Call it fucked up, I’ll agree with you. When I met you, I honestly began to only see you something to be broken into what I wanted. Of course, I wanted you to be mine; the pool wasn’t part of the scenario. I don’t know when, but you weren’t a conquest to me after a time. You were making me better. You were making me…me, again. Even my mother said so.” He chuckled.

“I got protective of you. Anything that could wipe away the traces of her from me, I’d want to keep. That was you. So, imagine my horror when she came back and I saw her with you. It scared my life out of me, even more than seeing you on the floor with some girl trying to choke you. I’d have done anything to keep you from her.”

“That day on the stairwell, it was her who messaged me. So, I went to see what she wanted. I didn’t think she would want anything to do with you but I was scared she’d run you off. That was the only reason why I agreed when she told me to accompany her to the Galas. I didn’t tell you because; I didn’t know what you’d say. Of course, now I know that was dumber because I hurt you nevertheless. Also the whole thing with Seojoon Hyung…I can’t believe I did that.”

“You were jealous.” You said bluntly, finally breaking your silence and he nodded.

“Can you blame me? In my mind, all I could see was that I was losing you to him. The one thing I didn’t want to happen and it was happening right in front of my eyes. I lost it.”

He reached out suddenly, grabbing my hand to pull me closer to him.

“There, now you know everything. I even did the press conference because I couldn’t reach you. You wouldn’t even take my calls.”

You sighed.

“Taehyung…I like you, I do but…this; this isn’t good for me. I can’t have you become jealous and try to ruin everything, my reputation and yours in a fit of temper. Please,” you said, trying to pull away but he held fast.

A glint of determination shone in his eyes.

“I’ll give it up. If I can’t change then I’ll give it all up. None of this matters if it loses me you.” he said fiercely.

I snorted.

“Then what, you become like Yubin?” you asked backing off but this time he followed, definitely not willing to give up.

“Anything, I’ll do absolutely anything. I have more than enough money, Y/N. I can last well enough till I’m ready to come back to the scene. I only want you to take me back.”

You bite your lips, watching him.

“Why, what’s so special about me?” you asked.

He smiled a soft fond smile.

“You’re you. You’re patient, understanding, strict but kind and reasonable. You’re the first one to comment on my laugh being genuine. You’re the first one I’ve wanted to spend the night with and the first one I’ve wanted to impress.”

He was leaning in; his face so close that you could feel his warm breath waft against your skin.

“I might even say that I’m falling for you.” he whispered.

“If you…” you began, “make a fool out of me again, I will personally castrate you.” you warned.

His eyes widened a tad bit at the warning before he was nodding. “I’ll take it.” he said.

“Good,”

You and Taehyung stared at each other for a minute until the tension in the air reached a crescendo. You huffed and reached out for his shoulders, pulling him to you in a rough and messy kiss.

Taehyung let out a soft growl against your mouth, teeth clashing and nipping at your lips as he let you plunder his mouth, take the kiss the way you wanted.

His hands gripped at your hips, molding the flesh in his large palms as he pulled you tight to his chest. Heat bubbled in your chest, threatening to combust you as you broke off for breath.

“Taehyung,” you gasped and he pulled away; kiss swollen lip panting for breath, looking at you in question.

You looked around your slightly cramped kitchen before nodding to the living room hallway.

“Couch,” You mumbled, and he nodded immediately, ducking slightly and lifting you up so your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you out to your living room, setting you down on the plush material of the sofa before he was withdrawing to the door, locking and bolting it before returning to you.

The kiss he placed over your lips this time was sweeter and yet rough, him taking his time to grab your face in both of his hands.

“The things I want to do to you but I want you to take charge.” He mumbled against your skin and you whined, nails dragging across his covered bicep.

He began to tilt your head to place kisses under your jaw and along your neck and you groaned, your smaller hands running under his shirt to feel his back, pushing the fabric to bunch around his neck.

“Take it off,” you mumbled.

Taehyung obeyed, pulling back to toss the shirt off as he hovered over you again, allowing you to kiss up his chest. He grunted when you closed your mouth over his nipple and gave a hard suckle, peppering more kisses further up his torso.

He grinned down at you even as you sunk your teeth into his shoulder, earning a hissed ‘fuck’.

“You like biting me, baby?” he asked and you blinked owlishly up at him before he was pressing his lips to your again. “I liked it. You can have your way with me however you want.” He promised and your core clenched at his words, all sorts of fantasies coming back to you of months of imagining what you would’ve liked to do to him.

You had always wanted to see what his skin would taste like and now that was one fantasy checked off.

You raised your body up on your elbows and he pushed back onto his haunches, watching you as you began to push him back, making him sit back as you climbed onto his lap, just like the pool.

The way his eyes darkened, you knew he was remembering it too.

“I want to make you pay for all those months of annoying the fuck out of me,” you whispered, your voice husky and breathy and he groaned, head falling back before nodding.

“Go ahead,”

You latched onto his neck at the permission, making sure to leave a dark purple bloom across his golden skin. Taehyung chuckled at that, feeling you devour him as petals blossomed across his upper body.

“Marking me as yours? I might have to annoy you even more.” He teased before jolting as you pinched his left nipple, shutting him up.

You kept your eyes on him, watching his reactions. With the god like face he owned, you had to admit, his expressions only aroused you more as you fiddled with your shirt, unbuttoning it slowly.

Taehyung’s wide eyes followed the skin you bared to him, before his own hands moved, grabbing onto the simple cotton bra you had on, almost ripping it at the clasps to get it off of you.

The moment your bare breasts met his eyes, he smiled wickedly, leaning to take a peak in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth, lapping at it with his tongue, giving you the same, if not slightly gentler version of your treatment of him.

Shivers of pleasure rushed up your spine and you curled your fingers in the soft hair at the base of his neck, another fantasy fulfilled, pressing him closer to you.

“Fuck baby, you taste so good, I can’t wait to taste your pussy.” He muttered against you as he bucked his hips into yours.

“Later, take your time later; I want you inside of me now.” You gasped, feeling your wetness pool into your underwear and he pouted but relented.

Gripping your thighs tight, he made you look into his eyes.

“Right now, we’ll do it how you want but the next round I’m taking my time with you and I don’t want you to make a peep.” He said and you rolled your eyes.

“Brat,” you muttered at him but he only grinned, letting you clamber off of his lap.

Both of you leaned away to undo your jeans, him tossing his clothes away before pawing at yours, fingers hooking over yours to take your panties off.

“Jesus, look how wet you are, you can’t possibly not let me eat you out.”

For your part, you wanted to taste him too but you just keened, basking in the praise while slipping in a finger into your core to tantalize him into action.

Taehyung’s jaw slacked as he watched you finger yourself open, his eyes darting back and forth between your pussy and face. Finally reaching forward, he grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand up to his mouth to suck at your soaked finger.

Damn, the way his tongue wrapped around your index made you want to screech even as he moaned.

“That’ll have to do for now.” He said, before he was driving back for his jeans, fingers fumbling into his pockets for a condom.

Ripping off the foil, he began to slow down to carefully put it on.

“Ready baby?” he asked, rolling it on him, waiting for your permission.

You nodded, quickly, feeling him desperately line himself with you and push in with a hard thrust, burying him into you to the hilt.

A cry escaped you at his roughness. Taehyung’s libido must have suffered from all the abstinence he’s practiced for you and you understood the greed he was dripping with now.

Taehyung cursed, hips rolling into you as he slowly pushed in and out, testing the waters. “Taehyung, please,” you whined again, your legs wrapping around his to drag him in closer to you. “I want you to go faster, harder.” You ordered, remembering his promise and his jaw set, eyes watching yours for any sign of discomfort before he nodded and set a furious pace, pumping him into you.

His face dropped, lips caressing yours as he whispered sweet and filth to you before he was running his fingers down your body, finding your clit as he rubbed it with his thumb.

Pants of your breath and his grunts filled the room, the static noise of a reporter talking about Kim Taehyung interrupting a few short moments of silence before your cries of pleasure drowned out the droning voice again.

“Come for me,” Taehyung said, index and thumb pinching your now swollen and hard nub.

You exploded, stars twinkling behind your eyes as he followed soon after, grunting and groaning as he emptied himself into the condom.

There was a silence as you both reveled in the catharsis of the pent up sexual tension releasing before he was getting off of you, going into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. “We won’t do it again with the TV on,” you grumbled, reaching around for the remote to shut the TV off as you heard him chuckle from inside.

Once he returned, wrapping both of you up in the couch blanket, he nuzzled up into your neck.

“How will you resign if I don’t accept?”

He asked suddenly and you let out a tired chuckle.

[thorne93]

Curious Conundrum (Part 19)

Prompt: You’re John Watson’s sister. One day you decide to visit your brother for lunch, only to meet the infamous Mr. Holmes…

Word Count: 2469

Warnings: language, flirtation, sexual innuendos (maybe? idfk), murder/crime/case related stuff, angst, jealousy…

Notes: Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong Not only did she beta, but I literally couldn’t have written half these scenes without her help. She contributed majorly, even wrote some parts of scenes. I am forever in her debt.

Also, this starts AFTER Season 2, episode 1. I don’t follow all the episodes, but it does follow the timeline and hit some major events : )

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |  Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 |

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

You followed the men outside, where Sherlock and him managed to get away. Within a few minutes, you got a text telling you an address. It wasn’t Sherlock’s number, but you had a feeling it was a message from one of his homeless network.

You ducked out of the back of the apartment and made your way through town to the address. When you got there, Sherlock and John were waiting for you outside an apartment.

“I’ve nearly unlocked it...There we are,” Sherlock noted as he stood up and you two went inside a small apartment.

Sherlock asked that you find something to cut the cuffs with. You found some bolt cutters and set them free.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“This is a writer's apartment. Kitty. Remember the frisky fan I told you about?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s her. Not a fan at all. She wanted an exclusive interview and I wouldn’t give it to her.”

“Okay so why are we here?”

“She wrote a story called Kiss and Tell, claiming that a man named Richard Brook has shed light on my fraud.”

“And we’re here to…?”

“To see who Richard Brook is.”

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

The three of you sat in the dark to wait for her. She got to the door, opened it, clicked on the light and Sherlock asked, “Too late to go on the record?”

Once Kitty got settled in, Sherlock set in on her. “Congratulations, on the truth about Sherlock Holmes. Scoop that everybody wanted and you got it. Bravo.”

“I gave you your opportunity. I wanted to be on your side, remember? You turned me down so…”

“And then someone turns up and spills all the beans, how utterly convient? Who is Brook?”

She shook her head.

“Oh come on, Kitty, no one trusts the voice at the end of a telephone. There are all those flirty little meetings in cafes, those meetings in hotel rooms. How do you know that you could trust him?” Sherlock pressed. “Man turns up with a holy grail in his pocket. What were his credentials?”

At that moment, the door opened to the apartment and a disheveled Moriarty walked in. “Darling they didn’t have any ground coffee so I just got normal.”

Sherlock spun, his eyes wide with shock, yours as well. Suddenly you felt your heart drop into your stomach, your veins filled with ice. John, you, and Sherlock all looked as if you’d seen a ghost. What the ever loving fuck was he doing here?

“You said that they wouldn’t find me here,” he stammered as he backed into a wall, dropping the grocery bag. Your eyes narrowed on him. “You said that I’d be safe here.”

“You are safe, Richard,” Kitty assured and your face whipped to her. “I’m a witness. They won’t harm you in front of witnesses.”

“Wanna bet?” you muttered, utterly put out with all of this nonsense.

“So that’s your source?” John demanded. “Moriarty is Richard Brook?”

“Of course he’s Richard Brook. There is no Moriarty. There never has been.”

A dizzy spell hit your head at that moment.

“What are you talking about?” John wondered.

“Look him up. Rich Brook, an actor Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty.”

Your eyes flashed to your better half, his face unreadable. Then your eyes flashed to Moriarty.

“Dr. Watson, I know you’re a good man,” Moriarty started. “Don’t--Don’t--Don’t hurt me,” he pleaded holding his hands up.

Oh he was good. Playing the part of victim. Playing the part of a scared little man, but you knew better. This wasn’t real. He was as sick and twisted as they come.

John lost his nerve and started shouting. “No, you’re Moriarity! He’s moriarty!” he insisted glancing back to Kitty. “We've met, remember? You were going to blow me up!”

Moriarity continued his charade as he said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. He paid me. I needed the work.” He gestured to Sherlock and you thought you’d rip his head off then and there. “I’m an actor. I was out of out work.”

“Sherlock, you’d better explain. Cause I am not getting this.”

“I’ll be doing the explaining,” Kitty interjected. She went on to hand John and you papers, explaining how Sherlock had invented Moriarity and all the crimes.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Ask him, he’s right here!” she insisted, pointing to Moriarty.  

John went back and forth with the two of them but all you could hear was a rushing in your ears, feel the pounding of your heart, your stomach lurching. You were getting more pissed by the second.

Suddenly, Moriarity had been begging Sherlock to tell John “the truth”.

“Tell him! Tell them! Tell him!” he repeated frantically and you’d had enough.

Shaking your head, you cried, “You sick son a bitch!” Then you lunged at him, his voice getting on your last nerve. This story. The lies. The games. All of it.

“No! No! Don’t you touch me!” he said, falling over himself, getting just out of your grasp. “Don’t you lay a finger on me!”

You continued to march towards him. “Oh I’ll lay more than a finger you sniveling, lying, little snake!”

“Stop it! Stop it now!” Sherlock shouted at Jim, demanding he put this charade to bed. But he didn’t. He started to get up and run away where you and John took off after him.

But he got away. The three of you stormed out of her apartment, your minds still reeling. John was asking if any of this was possible, and Sherlock seemed to surrender and say it was possible.

“There’s only one thing he needs to do to complete his game and that’s to…” Sherlock said, stopping suddenly.

“Sherlock?” you softly said.

“There’s something I need to do.”

“What? Can we help?” John asked.

“No, on my own.” With that he started to walk.

You shook your head, gritting your teeth. “He is such a --”

“Bastard? Annoying dick? Egotistical ass? Patronizing son of a bitch?”

“All of the above,” you muttered.

Just then you got a text message from Sherlock. “Find the computer program. -- SH.”

You showed John.

“Let’s go,” you sighed.

“Uh, you go ahead. I need to take care of something.”

“What? Not you too.”

“Y/N, someone sold Sherlock’s life. It wasn’t me, I highly doubt it was you, so who does that leave?”

It only took you a second before you answered, “Mycroft.”

“Right.”

“But why…?” you started to ask.

“I don’t know, but that’s what I intend to find out.”

“So I’m on my own?” you asked, exasperated as he started to walk away.

“For now, yes! I’ll meet up with you when I can,” he called over his shoulder.

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

You worked all night trying to find the code, not hearing a word from either one of them, except that they were at St. Barts working. Giving up a little after dawn, you decided to head to Barts to see what headway they’d made.

Just as you arrived, Sherlock called you. You stepped out of the cab and answered.

“Hey. You okay?” you greeted.

“Turn around and walk back the way you came,” he instructed sternly.

“What? Why would I do that? I’m coming in.”

“Just do as I ask! Please.” His tone made you nervous so you obliged.

“Yeah, alright. Where am I supposed to go?”

“Stop there.”

“Okay?” you said, looking around for him.

“Okay, look up, I’m on the rooftop.”

Dizziness hit your head like a freight train.

“The rooftop? What the hell are you--” you demanded, angry with him at first, until you actually saw him standing on the ledge. He wasn’t just standing on the rooftop, his tiptoes were over the edge. You gazed up in nauseous horror as you covered your mouth and gasped.

“Sherlock?! What the hell are you doing up there?! Get down this instant!” you nearly shouted into the phone.

“I... I can’t come down so we’ll just have to do it like this,” he said softly.

Your insides twisted.

“Do what?” you asked, a sob already forming in your throat. You didn’t want an answer to your question, but you half hoped it would be something benign, not the horrors that danced through your head at that instant. One horrible thing about your mind was that it quickly worked things out. Moriarity must be making him do this. “Sherlock… What… What’s going on?” you tried to speak through threatening tears.

“An apology,” he said simply.

“For what?” you tried again.

“It’s all true.”

“What’s all true?”

“Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty.”

You shook your head, your heart beating a million miles per hour. Maybe you could get up there but… Sherlock had told you to stay put.

“Why are you saying this? Sherlock this is mad. Stop this right now.”

“I’m a fake, Y/N.”

“No, no you’re not. This is just…”

“The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell John, Lestrade; I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson, and Molly... in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes.”

“I’m not going to do that,” you insisted, still biting back tears and your ever-swelling throat. “You know things about people, intimate things, that no one could possibly know in one glance. But you do.”

“Noone is that clever. I couldn’t even tell you anything other than you being an attorney, an obvious deduction. I’ve never been able to read you.”

“So? Sherlock, you can tell people their life story with one glance. I’m the exception.”

It sounded as if he gave a short, sorrow filled laugh before saying, “You always were, weren’t you? My one exception.”

His words. Those words. They sent tears over the edge.

“It’s all one big magic trick, a ruse. I research people. That’s all.”

“You’re lying and I don’t know why. I’m coming up,” you said, starting to move before Sherlock stopped you.

“No! Stay exactly where you are! Don’t move.”

Against your better judgement, you obeyed him and moved back into your spot.

“Alright. I won’t move.”

“Keep your eyes fixed on me,” he requested. “Please, will you do this for me?”

“Do... do what?” you stammered, trying to keep some composure and failing. Not being next to him, seeing him on that ledge, it made your bones, your very soul ache.

“This phone call – it’s, er ... it’s my note. It’s what people do, don’t they – leave a note?”

A strangled sob escaped your throat as you stared up at him.

“No, Sherlock. No. Just... tell me, I can help you. Please let me help you. We can solve this another way. I don’t know what he has on you but please,” you begged.

“There is no other way. Y/N, I’m so sorry for the pain I’ve caused you… For the pain I’m about to cause you. When we met… I never meant for this to happen. That’s why I told you no, the day you asked me to dinner. I warned you. I told you this would be dangerous.”

“I know, and I still said yes.”

“Do you still say yes now?” he asked ominously.

At first you weren’t sure what he meant, but as you stared up at him, it became painfully clear. He would be dead. You weren’t sure when, but he was going to end his life. Today. And he was asking if it was still worth saying yes.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“I’m so sorry you feel that way,” he apologized.

“Please. Sherlock. Don’t do this. Please, for the love of God don’t do this to me,” you pleaded. He was your first and only love. In your mind and heart, he would be your last love. He couldn’t do this. He just couldn’t. “I love you. Do you hear me? I love you!” you shouted, angry at him for doing this, for putting you in this position. Maybe the anger was just an early stage of grief yet to follow.

“I know,” he quietly says into the phone. “But you were just another part of the game.”

At his words, your heart fell out of your chest.

“I… what?” you gasped, trying to catch up.

“Just another step in the plan to make me seem more normal. John had been on me about being more human so... so I chose you, to play the part.”

“No,” you whispered, disbelief coloring your tone as you shook your head.

“Yes,” he insisted. “If I had it my way, I’d have picked Irene. She was, after all, the first woman to truly catch my eye. I could never love you, because you’d always be the other woman in my eyes. It was Irene that I loved… Not you.” Another moment passed, and you wanted to say something, anything, but your mind was spinning too fast for you to fathom a response. “I’m sorry.”

Before you could respond, he held his had out and dropped the phone beside him.

“Sherlock!” you screamed, louder than you’d ever screamed in your life. Your heart was beating so fast, you thought a heart attack was imminent.  

But he ignored you, he held his arms out to his sides and stepped off. He fell for what seemed like forever, and yet, it seemed like an instant. You wanted to move, to catch him, to break his fall, to… something! But you couldn’t move.

Not until you heard the sound of his body hitting the pavement. That sickeing sound. You’d never heard anything like that.

For a moment, you swayed, sure that you would throw up or that your buckling knees would give out. Then your mind started to work again and you began running towards him, but a bicyclist had hit you, knocking you to the ground. In your shocked state, you didn’t feel it, but your head had smacked against the pavement.

Finally, you stood up and stumbled your way over to him. There was blood... so much blood. A crowd of people tried to hold you back.

“No, he’s my boyfriend!” you shouted, pushing through them until you landed in front of him. Within a second, your brother was at your side.

“Y/N...Y/N,” he said, looking at you. “Oh, God,” he moaned, his face going to Sherlock’s body. “Sherlock… Sherlock…” he whispered in a daze.

You went to reach towards him but people kept pulling you off of him. John tried to take his pulse, but someone had gotten his hand away too.

A gurney rolled up with paramedics and they turned him over, his lifeless eyes staring up, his hair matted in blood. That was all you needed for the light to leave your own eyes as you passed out on the ground next to his body.

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

Forever Tag:

@cocosierra94

@essie1876

@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@superwholocked527

@missinstantgratification

@thejemersoninferno

@rda1989

@munlis

@thefridgeismybestie

@bubblyanarocks3

@igiveupicantthinkofausername

@kaliforniacoastalteens

@feelmyroarrrr

@kaeling

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo

@damalseer

@heyitscam99

@yknott81

@sorryimacrapwriter

@glitterquadricorn

@xxqueenofisolationxx

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

@bittersweetunicorm

CC tag: @disneyoncerlover815 @ultrarebelheart @tngrayson @clairese1980 @ladyblablabla

[jenniferjuni-per]

Compromised - a Steggy fan fic

Steve Rogers is pulled from the ice by Hydra, experimented on as part of their winter soldier program. After his escape, he makes it back to New York, and to Peggy, but his demons have a way of catching up to him.

*From this prompt

Words: 1997

Rated: T for mild violence

He’s dreaming, and he knows it.

Fat snowflakes fall lazily around him. They land on his eyelashes, on his scope. Through it he sees his target, the cross-hairs settle between the eyes. He pulls the trigger, and sees red.

He’s in a crowded marketplace, the sun is hot, the air stifling. His target is in front of him, but there’s a body in the way, a woman with parcels stacked high on her head. He presses the barrel of his gun to her back and fires. They both fall before him, fruit and nuts and carefully wrapped packages tumbling down to the blood pooling at his feet.

He wakes in a panicked sweat, ears ringing. Clutching his head, he repeats the words that calm him down.

Coney Island. Shield. Brooklyn. Popcorn. Peggy.

On the last word he inhales deeply, and he’s now aware that she’s there, a steady hand on his back, saying the words along with him. When he at last runs out of breath, she lays her head on his shoulder.

“Better?” she asks softly, and he can only nod. He can’t tell her that it will never be better, but at least it’s tolerable when she’s there. He turns to her, wraps his arms around her shoulders and kisses her, not hard, but not soft either. She seems to know what he wants, what he needs, and holds him just as tight.

---

The doctors can’t agree on how long he had been in the ice, and therefore how long Hydra had him in their grasp, the only thing Peggy knows is that three years after she thought she’d lost him, Steve Rogers walked back into her life.

Or rather, he’d stumbled to the ground at her feet. He’d had no memory of where he’d been for the last three years, remembering only his last moments before he’d crashed the Valkyrie into the ice. He only remembered her, and the date he’d promised her.

He’d been in a Hydra uniform, tattered and filthy, and he’d had no injuries on him but it was clear he had been traveling from somewhere far away. Medical tests performed on him showed him to be in peak health, but with telltale signs of torture. What Hydra had done to him they couldn’t quite determine, but while the doctors and scientists bickered and argued, Peggy had left the room. Steve sat on the hospital bed like a child listening to his parents argue, and watched Peggy through the open door. He’d never seen her so broken, and she was the strongest person he’d known.

---

“Alright, then?” Peggy stands close as he ties his shoes, not really hovering but wanting to be near him. He sighs as he finishes up his laces. He knows she worries, knows that sometimes she can’t fall asleep at night, knows that she sometimes watches him when she thinks he’s not looking. But he’s been back in the world six months now, and the doctors haven’t found anything medically wrong with him. The after effects of the torture haven’t manifested, and so the doctors have given him the all clear. He’s really been released into Peggy’s care, and between her duties at the SSR and taking care of him, she has her hands full.

“I’m fine, Peggy. I don’t need a babysitter.” He can’t help but snap at her, but it’s not really her he’s frustrated with. There’s something off, he can feel it. He’s never felt the same since the serum, but now it feels like something else is there, something he can’t quite grab a hold of.

Peggy bites her lip and turns away, and immediately shame floods Steve’s system. Standing, he slips his arms around her waist from behind.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into her ear, then plants soft kisses on her neck.

“Mmm,” she tilts her head so he can have more access to the column of her neck, and Steve dives in, kissing a line all the way down. “Wait,” she says, suddenly breaking away from him, “I haven’t quite forgiven you yet.” She stares him down, face stern and eyes fierce.

“Listen,” he starts, rubbing her arms soothingly, “I’ll be fine. I just need to go for a run. I can’t stay cooped up in this apartment all day.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” She places her palm softly on his cheek, and Steve can see the worry plain in her eyes.

“I don’t know, can you keep up with me?” he teases, but she’s not laughing. “Please don’t worry,” he tries again, pulling her into his arms, “I’ll stick to my route and that way you know where I’ll be.” He places a kiss to the top of her head. “Besides, don’t you have important things to do at the SSR?”

Peggy snorts. “Yes, like bring everyone their coffee and sandwiches?”

“That’s right, that reminds me, I need to come in and talk to your boss about that…”

“Don’t you dare!” Peggy slaps him on the arm. Steve chuckles, taking the opportunity of Peggy’s upturned face to kiss her softly on the lips. She doesn’t let it go at that, nipping hungrily at his lips. When she adds her tongue Steve almost forgets about going for a run.

Hesitantly, he breaks the kiss but doesn’t let go of her. “I won’t be long, and I’ll give you a ring when I get back.”

---

It’s been a while since he’s exerted his body like this, and Steve revels in it. He feels the wind through his hair, the air filling his lungs, his muscles working hard. People and buildings and trees flash by him in a blur, and he doesn’t know why he’d waited so long to do this. Finally he slows down, not so much out of fatigue, but just so he could relish the moment a little longer.

Someone steps out from behind a tree, and normally Steve wouldn’t think anything of it, but there’s something about this person that’s familiar. Steve notices a uniform peeking out from the dark trench coat the man is wearing, and a feeling of dread suddenly creeps up his spine. Before Steve can react, the man is reciting something in Russian.

Longing. Rusted. Furnace. Daybreak. Seventeen. Benign. Nine. Homecoming. One. Freight car.

Steve feels his mind break, the thing that had been lying dormant suddenly breaking to the surface. He tries to fight it, but he can’t grab a hold of himself, and despite all of his efforts he feels Steve Rogers slipping away from his grasp.

“Soldier?”

“Ready to comply.”

---

Peggy huffs as she carries the coffee cup to Jack Thompson’s desk, and when she sees the smirk on his face as she gets closer, she briefly considers dumping the contents of it into his lap.

“Are there two sugars in it this time, Peggy?”

She doesn’t have the time to answer him the way she’d like, because the phone on her desk suddenly rings.

Right on time, she thinks, as it most definitely must be Steve back from his run. She picks up the phone, but the words she hears on the other end make her drop the coffee cup, and it shatters to pieces on the floor at her feet.

---

“Sergeant!” Peggy walks resolutely up to the officer in charge. “What can you tell me?”

The officer eyes her suspiciously. “Who’re you?” he asks gruffly.

“Agent Peggy Carter, I’m responsible for Captain Rogers.”

The officer mulls over her credentials briefly, but he knows he’s in over his head with all of this secret government super spy stuff. “We were called to the park due to a disturbance, and when we got here the suspect--”

“Captain Rogers.” Peggy interrupts.

“Right.” The officer averts his eyes, clearly uncomfortable. “Captain Rogers, was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with another individual.”

Peggy feels her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. “Fighting? Why?” She doesn’t realize she had actually spoken the words out loud until the officer answers her.

“The man tried to stop him, ma’am, and Captain Rogers beat him up. He’s in bad shape, he’ll be lucky if he survives.”

Peggy’s heart rate shoots up, her palms starting to break out in a cold sweat. “Stop him?” she asks, confusion and fear swirling her brain, “Stop him from what?”

“From attacking people! He’s gone berserk.” The officer shakes his head. “We were told to call you, ma’am, but if you can’t subdue him, we have orders to shoot.” He cocks his gun to emphasize his point, and Peggy immediately sets her chin.

“Leave this to me, sergeant.”

---

She can see him through a gap in the trees, surrounded by half a dozen officers with their guns drawn, trapped like a caged animal. His hair is dishevelled, his gaze hollow but focused. He’s crouched in a defensive stance, watching the officers around him, his eyes falling from one onto another onto another. Peggy approaches cautiously.

“Steve,” she calls out, fighting to keep her voice level. He turns at the sound of her voice, but in his eyes she sees no recognition.

“Who’s Steve?” he asks, in a voice that doesn’t sound like Steve at all, a voice that sounds lifeless. He stalks towards her, and immediately the officers point their guns. Peggy throws her hand up, motioning for them not to shoot, and their guns hang in the air as Steve rounds on Peggy. He has a hand to her throat before she can react, and he’s pinning her to the ground, his knee driving into her chest and all breath leaves her lungs. She hears the officers shouting, but she holds her hand up again, desperately motioning at them to stay back.

“You’re Steve,” she gasps, desperately trying to get air back in her lungs, but his knee sinks deeper into her chest. His eyes are still hollow, his movements almost robotic. The grip of his hand around her neck tightens. Peggy knows she’ll black out soon, her vision already swimming, so with monumental effort she tries again.

“Coney island,” she tries, barely able to form the words, but there’s no change in him.

“Shield,” she gasps, but the hand grips even tighter. The officers are shouting again.

“Brooklyn,” she manages, and something shifts in his eyes. She motions again for the officers to stay back.

“Popcorn,” she croaks out, because he’s loosened his grip on her throat. Something dawns on his face, recognition, horror, fear. He scrambles off of her, staggers backwards.

“Peggy?” he’s looking at her now, eyes wide with terror. Peggy feels her heart breaking in two, but she can’t move yet, pain is shooting through her ribs and she’s still fighting to get air back into her lungs. Out of the corner of her vision she sees the officers moving in, but again she motions them back. Steve registers the state she’s in, and rushes back to her side.

“Oh Peggy, what have I done,” he cries, cradling her head in his arms. She sees sweat beading at his brow, and his eyes are wet.

“Darling,” she manages to say with difficulty, her throat feeling like sandpaper, “you’re okay.” She touches a hand to his cheek, and he breaks down, folding in on himself.

“I hurt you,” he sobs, “god, I’m so sorry.”

Peggy struggles to sit up, pain shooting through her chest. She figures she’s broken a rib, but she can’t give thought to that now. Taking Steve’s face in her hands, she fixes him with a determined look.

“Steve, whatever’s happened to you, we’ll figure it out.” He still won’t look at her, so she tips his chin up. “We can do this.”

The conviction in her voice must sway him, because after searching her eyes with his he finally gives in, and gingerly, tenderly, he wraps her up in a brief embrace. Then he lifts her up, carries her to a waiting ambulance, as the officers finally disperse.

[pleiadesounds]

Where To Start With,  Pt 1

 This week, Harry Fanshawe from UK noiseniks Modern Rituals acquaints Kai with the inimitable Silver Jews, while Kai in turn shows him the finer points of British post-punk stalwarts Wire. 

  Kai Woolen-Lewis Wire are, for me, one of the great bands in the history of punk music. Whereas a lot of other bands you’d describe as such would subsist largely on folklore and be a calamity if judged on their incarnation in the present moment, Wire however seem to be one of the rare bands who have managed to be both very influential (if you need punk credentials, they were covered by Minor Threat and if you need trendy floppy haircut credentials, they were covered by My Bloody Valentine) and forever forward-thinking - bridging the gap between the pompousness of progressive music and the snarl and brevity of punk, a bridge between what were two ultra-partisan camps. Though they’re contemporaries of elder statesmen of British punk like the Sex Pistols and The Buzzcocks, there’s far more of an art-school vibe to Wire - one gets the impression that they must’ve stood in stark contrast to the image and the attitude of their peers, with cerebral and challenging songs that refused to succumb to the immediate hedonism of the punk music of the time. One gets the impression that they have far more in common with genre outliers like Patti Smith, Pere Ubu and Kraftwerk than with any of their counterparts in the British punk scene. 

 When I first saw them, at the Lexington in London 4 or 5 years ago, they played almost entirely new songs, with only a few songs from their “seminal” LP’s included in the set. Now that the horror of not knowing many of the songs has worn off, it’s a clear sign of their continuously forward-looking approach. With seventeen studio albums and god knows what else in the way of releases, here’s where to start with Wire - despite their huge legacy, absolutely not a legacy act…

 Playing Harp For The Fishes

 KWL Even after decades of churning out consistently stark, highly original songs, Wire still absolutely excel - although lots of their current and recent material is a lot more digestible than in their early years - this, from 2017’s Silver/ Lead is big slow-grooving song which gives an excellent idea of the kind of discomforting experimental noise Wire have always dealt in. A steady rhythm section struggles against all matter of ethereal out of key guitar, weird oscillating noises and throbbing synth lines. Musically and lyrically challenging and abstract without ever feeling overwrought. Sardonic without any hint of bitterness. Dense without even a smidgen of unpalatability. Is it always so? Aye.

Harry Fanshawe Wire for me have always been a band on the periphery of punk history. Not to say that is rightly so, but they're a band that I've seen has being earmarked as integral by the nerdier music fans (I mean that with fondness). Take Joy Division, they formed because they saw the Sex Pistols, but they made something much deeper and more meaningful. My mental placement for Wire has had them alongside the likes of Killing Joke in that history (weirder and less easy to associate with the common idea of 'punk'), and I feel like their evolution has been similar. Like you say this track favours simplicity with the steady beat, allowing a nicely sized canvas to throw as many different colours at, which they do with the layers they chuck on top. That is an approach that I see as being more contemporary of today than the 70s (favouring simplicity and excelling in it has really come back in the last few years). It shows how adaptable this band has been over the decades. 

Lowdown

 KWL Wire’s first album Pink Flag has gone down in music history as one of the seminal British records of the early punk movement, largely down to it’s combination of abrasiveness, melody and brevity. 21 songs in 36 minutes, often fleetingly abrupt, played at breakneck pace and infused with an abstract sense of humour and an art-school sensibility that set them miles apart from their contemporaries. This one, Lowdown, sounds like a soul single on 33rpm; a fascinating disco dirge and highlight of a pretty highlight-heavy first LP.

 HF Right back to the 70s and for me that Crazy Horse vibe is straight in there. This is the THE Wire album. Fight me. Musically, it's a whole different sound to the last song, it's got vibe and groove and all the amazing characteristics of the best 70s bands. Vocally I find it more alike the stuff of the 2010s, though I reckon that's probably debatable! It's obviously got that old school, British punk oi! to it and today they're much calmer. But you can hear it. For anyone who knows Kai and his musical projects of the last few years, this riff is SO Kai.

 Marooned

KWL Here’s an older one - from 1978’s Chairs Missing. The jump between Pink Flag and this in the space of a couple of years is absolutely insane, and the jump from this to the next year’s 154 is also pretty nuts. A highlight on a rich, chilling and unique record of challenging post-punk, Marooned is slow, meandering and awash with oceanic wetness, big synths and sheet glass guitars, with Newman singing about hanging out on a sinking iceberg - both sonically and in terms of sheer epic-ness of scope, it’s closer to Pink Floyd than to any of their genre contemporaries. I put this on at a house party once and the atmosphere nose dived and the whole room just totally explicably got really fucking awkward. Take what you want from that, I guess.

 HF Forward a couple of years and the Pink Floyd sounds are in there, the experimentation is kicking off and yeah we're sat on a soft synth cloud here. It is a massive jump and I love that, I fully dig that 'fuck it who cares what anyone thinks I wanna try that'. I reckon that idea is nicely reflected in your house party play of it. I know that feeling, I did it with Primitive Man myself around a bunch of posh hipsters listening to surf rock in Cornwall. Lasted like less than 2 seconds. Proper wankers. Anyway, point is Kai, it's their loss. The tune slaps.

Map Ref 

KWL By 1980’s 154 - so called because at the point they recorded it, they had played live 154 times - Wire had cemented their place as both stalwarts and genre outliers by following up the seminal Pink Flag with the enormous impenetrable curveball-shaped Chairs Missing. 154 is full of big bangers and awkward, atmospheric synthesiser-led songs - this by the way is one of the big bangers. Lyrically it seems to be a geography nerd gushing about the enormous epic expanses of landscape that make up the American midwest. Before you go look it up, the Map reference is somewhere called Centerville in Iowa or Ohio or something. Map Ref has a chorus I frequently cite alongside “That’s When I Reach for my Revolver” or “The Girl Who Lives on Heaven Hill” as a contender among underground punk rock’s biggest fist-in-the-air choruses.

HF Again, 70s vibes are rife, the energy of the rhythm section just holds it all up so strong. Weirdly, I find his voice sounds loads like Blake Schwarzenbach [Jawbreaker, Jets to Brazil]? Any influence on him there? Who knows. Way more in the way of vocal melody here and the vibe is moving more along the way bands like Talking Heads were at the time. Definitely a banger. Love the lil satirical 'chorus' drop in there. As for landscapes inspiring songs, fuck yeah why should it always be about people? I mean animal rights punk is usually dreadful and dull, let's talk about something inanimate for once.

 Blogging

 KWL Brazen, streamlined and groovy, with a chugging downtuned riff and a glorious uplighting chorus - Blogging showcases Wire’s admirable ability to follow their own pretty standard formula and keep churning out highly original and interesting songs. The lyrics deserve a mention - it’s a hard enough endeavour sometimes for those of us born in the 90s, but if you were in a band that existed in 1976, the current musical landscape must be a pretty soul-destroying place to exist. Actually scrap that. If you were alive at a time when art seemingly meant something or was worth anything, now must be a horrible place to live. “I’m blogging like Jesus/ I tweet like a pope/site traffic heavy/ I’m YouTubing hope” 

 HF Totally agree Kai. Today is a fucking terrible time to be alive if you're interested in anything related to the notion of 'art'. It's all been rehashed and overdone. It's everywhere to be seen and no longer has a sacred place. It's been abused and overused for petulant causes. Everyone's a fucking artist and that's killed the concept. Can't believe how much this reminds me of Jets to Brazil, why!? I suppose we can forget about the present if we stick to Wire's back catalogue.

Circumspect

KWL A product of extensive periods of down-time on their part, which saw the members working on other projects - Colin Newman’s Githead in particular is worth a mention - 2008’s Object 47, so called because it’s the 47th Object in their back catalogue - is a really great record and a hidden gem in Wire’s back catalogue for me. Dispensing with the distortion and the abrasion, Wire made a record of sparse, infectious guitar-based songs that you can really lose yourself in, and this is one of the songs in which I have most frequently lost myself. A slow circular guitar arpeggio, laid-back drums and lush vocals result in an almost Manchester-esque slow disco pills-thrills-and-bellyache vibe - this is Wire at their most hypnotic and enjoyable. 

 HF Slowcore Wire! Yeah this is one of my favourites from this list. Having time away from something can let you come back to it without as much creative control or care, and refreshing your image of what the thing is in the first place. Step away, come back more naturally. This is softer, but it's still as weird as anything else they made in the last 20 years. Pretty banging video too, mind. It feels like you're in one of those dreams where you try and run but you got sandbags on your feet. But in this one, it's Drew Barrymore from Donny Darko and she's apathetic as fuck.

Bad Worn Thing

KWL Their first album properly “back” after a period of sporadic activity through the 2000s, Red Barked Tree is the sound of a band of fifty-somethings consistently at peace with the idea of re-defining what their band IS, without at any point ever stepping on the toes of their older selves. Another album highlight (with acoustic guitars) Adapt, sums it up pretty nicely. "Go east / Go north / Go south / Go west / Leave mouths open / With your best / Adapt to change / Stay unimpressed”. Bad Worn Thing finds the band both tapping into 2000s alternative music and subjecting it totally to their musical and lyrical interpretations. An upbeat, undeniably British-feeling slice of sauntering pop, one that makes me feel like I’m taking an afternoon walk through a British urban landscape to the shop on the first sunny day in weeks - all while giving a pretty caustic account of Britain’s ongoing relationship with its past and by implication, it’s future. “Follow me, no explanation/ the future sold the chancellor paces/ the growing pains associated with a past that no-one faces.”

 HF This feels so much more British than much of what we've had from them on this list so far. This is Britpop Wire. Dam right they sound like they're back, they have something new to say, they're older and more jaded, but they still have something to say. I love the 'overcrowded nature of things' repetition. Like they've come back to this messy DIY music thing and it's a fucking full house. So you gotta build your own. Mind you, I'd say Wire have always lived in the garage.

Used To

KWL Another huge cut from Chairs Missing - and a perfect example of what critic Simon Reynolds called Wire’s “strange clockwork geometry” - a blissful piece of post-punk psychedelia and definitely one of the climaxes of a record that enjoys an embarrassment of rich, blissed out moments. I would definitely cite Wire’s work in this period as proof of the utter compatibility of the experimental, expansive, forward thinking music of the 60s and 70s and the abrasiveness and brevity of punk. Indeed, it sounds like bullshit now, but the same A+R man who signed Pink Floyd and the Sex Pistols was responsible for EMI’s acquisition of the band while they were still in their infancy. For me, basically everything that made the years 1976-1979 so exciting and vital in the history of unpopular music is represented in this album, whether it be this, the Beatles-on-glue vibes of ‘I am the Fly’ or the aggressive minimalism of ‘Being Sucked in Again’, the album just gives and gives and gives. An absolute classic.

 HF Very pleased we went back to this to close. Absolutely loving the post-punk psychedelia tag on this baby. Again, everything you say above that I hear in this record is their observant nature as a band to look back at the twenty years before them and incorporate what's important, what's wrong, what's right and the relationship of all that against their own stronghold. It reinforces their importance and their place in all of this. Not everyone, hardly anyone, has the ability to be the originator of something whilst being so observant (the latter being one of the most troubling things for humankind) at the same time. A perfect place to end with Wire: it repeats, it talks, it stays with you for a moment and then it's gone. Thanks Kai.

 Silver Jews

Harry Fanshawe Like many of us, my summer last year was consumed by the release of David Berman's new album under the 'Purple Mountains' moniker and then his sudden death. I'm sure many of us also went back through his entire catalogue once we'd exhausted our ears of his latest and last offering. Silver Jews have always been a standout band for me, usually sitting with things like Leonard Cohen or the Velvet Underground in my poor attempts at genre categorising. 

What's always stood out to me in this way, making it something I've struggled to place with more contemporary artists, is the looseness in the music and the corresponding looseness in its lines between music and prose. Like Leonard or Lou, SJ have a truly unique way of delivering and intertwining music and meaning. Where the new Purple Mountains record is much more polished in its production, my fondness for the old Silver Jews records has always been like that of an old, familiar room; their rusty structures and broken floorboards bring with them more character and heart than any solid new build could and, given last summer’s events, it now holds a very special place in my heart.

KWL I remembered having heard about David Berman’s suicide because many of my most misanthropic and refined friends had been especially despondent about it - it seems I missed the boat on that particular opportunity to be saddened by the loss of a great artist, so having this opportunity to go back and be able posthumously introduced to him has been a strange experience - cool that Harry and I have these different perspectives on his work and death…like reading a sentence with a full stop at the end, or something.

 Albermarle Station

HF A tender country offering inhabited by old ghosts, broken bridges and ivy covered screens. This song always reminded me of travel, of the lingering memories from recent events in recent places bouncing around the mind after an experience somewhere with people. All whilst anticipating the next destination. There's a train station near my parents’ house and as a teenager I used to travel from it a lot to see friends. That place hasn't changed at all in the 15 years since, and the rare occasions I go there now just bring back all of it; all the old ghosts while I sit and wait near the ivy covered screens and the rickety old bridge.Travel is a time that allows for rumination and retreat, and that can be savoured in all of its broken glory. 

KWL A surprising first listen - I’m not sure exactly what I expected, maybe something a bit glossier and more upbeat, but this is great - ramshackle, melodic and with lyrics that will take a million listens. It sort of reminds me of Red House Painters but with wit, self-deprecation and genuine insight in place of abrasiveness and machismo. Berman is a prepossessing and fascinating figure in light of his suicide, I should imagine before just as much and also considering the esteem in which a lot of people held and hold him. Maybe you led me there but this song definitely feels like they have a foot in the past, in those old, deserted spaces you pass through on the way somewhere.

 New Orleans

 HF From that slightly out of tune guitar at the start to the doubled up lazy groans about the trouble in the stairs; to me this song is the dusty corner of an old house, the gold in the cellar, and it's not the house you think it is. Keeping up with a nostalgic line of thinking, this track captures the 'otherness' of the past, the distance it eventually takes, even when it can be so well set in stone by old artefacts and rooms. It beholds the length of reflective nights and the depth of their texture. Trapped inside the song where the night's are so long, we count sheep to find soothing sleep. An early banger from Berman.

 KWL This is also great - there’s something hugely admirable about a song being able to be this rickety and cobbled-together-sounding while still being so evocative. It’s like, they could probably have recorded it without the out of key guitar lines or the drums losing the beat, but they didn’t - and there’s beauty in the imperfection. The song has that ‘On The Beach’ feeling of the end of a long, drunken night, when the ash-tray is full and the kitchen needs tidying before bed. But you’ll do it in the morning.

Tennessee

 HF Clearly a trend is setting in here: the slowest country SJ numbers titled by places. Aside from the obviously amazing play on the title word in the chorus, this love song has some of the best one-liners as far as I'm concerned. Here's one: 'Punk rock died when the first kid said "Punk's not dead, punk's not dead”'. Here's my favourite: 'We're off to the land of hot middle-aged women'. Is this an optimistic look to a future with a spouse? As far as I care to know, the whole song is. Punk may be dead but love isn’t.

 KWL I always knew you had a type, Harry. Another piece of rickety out of tune folk-country storytelling that somehow plays with superficiality and reaches into the darkest depths at the same time. A bit of cutesy word-play and a really lovely key change in the middle of the song - this is actually going really well, isn’t it. I’m guessing the lady singing is Berman’s wife, just because the whole atmosphere just feels very close and personable - listening to these songs of Berman being in love and happy and stuff is startling in this current context. A great song.

Sleeping is the Only Love

 HF What's that? Another love song? Maybe! As blurred as it seems deliberately to be about loving someone and how incredible a good night's sleep is. As someone who troubles with sleep, I can agree that there are times when I would crawl over broken glass and hot coals to make it to sleep. I also love the reflection from that onto the peace had with a good functioning relationship with someone you love. Sleep and love intertwined.

 KWL All these love songs have taken on a very strange overtone, now. This one has somewhere in it a snapshot of Berman and his wife settling down to the quiet life in Nashville - it’s all pretty beautiful, and it’s very impressive to go about making so intricate a love song about something as banal as sleep. I think there’s a snapshot here of the kind of intimacy that goes beyond the sexual - where somehow sleeping next to someone is the most intimate thing of all - the rolling over, the arms going to sleep, the waking up, the bad breath. The real deal.

 Punks in the Beerlight

 HF A song for the addicts! After a hot summers day, what better than the transcendence found in the cooling of a beautiful summers night? How could you make that even better? I guess you could smoke the gel off a fentanyl patch? This song is for a long summer night where you can go and run away into the night with a friend, find the nicest, deadest park around and watch that sun go down. And what comes after we exhaust our routes for escape? Let's not kid ourselves. It gets really really bad. Gotta love that 80s glam section after the first chorus too.

 KWL Ok, so I feel I need to state here that Harry’s article has sent me down a deep rabbit hole of SJ/David Berman appreciation. It’s strange to find him here, at this point and I just wonder what it would have been like to have been like “I hope David Berman’s doing okay” at random intervals in life. This is easily the most conventionally beautiful song on the list so far and somehow it examines some of the darkest corners of the human experience. It reminds me of the beauty of being in love - all other markers fade into unimportance, rendering the rich paupers and the poor rich beyond dreams, together; a beautiful juxtaposition, part love song, part junkie memoir.

 Advice to the Graduate

 HF 'Your third drink will lead you astray.' Let's follow on from the last theme. 'So you've got no friends and you wander through the night. And now you watch the sunrise through a rifle-sight'. This song speaks for itself.

 KWL This song seems to be quite strongly advocating the “school of life” diploma - that when you finish all the arbitrary self-building, that there’s a big wide world to step out into that’s all misery and addiction and what’s your deep critical analysis of Edgar Rice Burroughs going to do for you then? It sounds so slack, a borderline The Shaggs influence - Berman said that all of his favourite singers couldn’t sing, and it doesn’t sound like he or his backing band was much better. A genuine advert for keeping the musicians out of music…

K-Hole

 HF I've never understood the appeal of a K-Hole, I suppose that DB doesn't either, since he compares it to the feeling of being left alone. Though he does still reserve his fondness for booze as a trustworthy fallback during tough times. Perhaps that's it; it can go too far. I love the string arrangements in this song, it feels outback and rural, the lyrics appeal to that sense of dusty distance too.

 KWL I have a real soft spot in my heart for when the music of a song seems to run in tandem with its lyrical content, and I must say lots of the instrumental here feels like an out of body hallucination of a country song - large swathes of the song feel like Alice in Wonderland or that first Pink Floyd record that sounds like a Kaleidoscopic Circus.  

Dallas

 HF You know the way a city can change completely in character when night hits. When all the blazing sunlight lifts and leaves you with the purity of a place. It's like a deep breath of fresh air after a heavy day, you can feel your spirits lift as the weight peels away. This is a great, simple example of DB, highlighted best in the last lines: 'Poor as a mouse every morning, rich as a cat every night, Some kind of strange magic happens, when the city turns on her lights’.

 KWL The lyrics to this really grabbed me too - but not so much in respect of the city at night, but the string of non-sequiturs that pepper the song, something that DB is obviously really great at - painting those little pictures. There’s the bit about his shrink’s former NFL career, the eroticism of CPR, “our record just went aluminium” - all absolutely amazing. I’ve heard hundreds of songs about hundreds of places, but they never came as unique or as vivid as this.

 I Remember Me

 HF Another example of being a sucker for the whimsical. 'I remember you and I remember me': through the years you can lose the old parts of yourself. When you're in a relationship these losses double, and when you look back in your 'now' state to the person you were right back at the beginning, and the person they were, it makes you appreciate the whimsical and the romantic because they are so short-lived and random. Even though you change through those years, that change enables each quirk and trait that you might look back on and miss. So soak it up while it's there lest you regret its disappearance. In this story, the characters end up apart, but whether or not you do, know that even if you are still together, parts of you can always remain apart.

 KWL This is the best song on the list, for me - absolutely gorgeous and very very moving indeed. Somehow, Berman manages to sum up in his songs and in his writing that life is a huge collection of these tiny tiny moments, and maybe if we looked more closely at the tiny moments, the enormousness of life might not seem so terrifying. A sort of temporal looking after the pennies, so to speak. This one screams “don’t wait for the perfect moment, it’s now”. 

How to Rent a Room

 HF A great ender for this list. 'I want to wander through the night as a figure in the distance even to my own eye'. 'No I don't really want to die. I only want to die in your eyes'. If only…

 KWL Further research into the life of DB has directed me towards the fact that his father represents the worst of the worst of the American Republican corporate lobbying parasite - against environmental protections, the minimum wage, health warnings on tobacco, labour rights and trade regulations, to name just a few, and whose son Berman seemed ashamed to be. I just looked through the lyrics to this and they genuinely seem to be a letter to his dad, who he called “a despicable man … [a] human molestor … an exploiter … a scoundrel” saying “I’d rather be dead than your son.” 

 Thanks for this Harry, it’s been a real pleasure and a great introduction to a fascinating man and his band. May he rest in peace.

For the full playlist, click here

[goddamnedamericanjedi]

Classic Rock Magazine Interview With Sebastian Bach

SEBASTIAN BACH          © Dave Ling - December 2002       

  It wasn’t the greeting that worried me. During the 13 years that I’ve been interviewing Sebastian Bach, there have been a variety of headlocks and bear hugs. Fortunately, today it’s just a super-firm handshake. Although in the past he’s spat huge globules of phlegm across the room to express disgust at certain subjects, and once even called to talk on a mobile phone whilst taking a piss, neither was I overly concerned about the former Skid Row frontman’s behavior during our encounter.

My biggest reservation was how this particular conversation might conclude. Last time we spoke face-to-face, during a press tour for Skid Row’s 1995 album ‘Subhuman Race’, matters concluded prematurely after I stated the journalistic consensus that the album was considerably below par. “We’ll see who’s still doing this in ten years time,” raged Seb with a face like thunder, before booting the back of my chair, storming from the room and cancelling the rest of his interviews for the day.

That decade he referred to isn’t yet up, but thankfully we’re both still here. “What you said back then hurt so much because I considered a writer like you, who’d written a lot of our early press, to represent the British media,” confides Bach while preparing for Classic Rock’s photo session. “It was hard to take, dude.”

The Canadian had joined Skid Row after being spotted jamming at the wedding of photographer Mark Weiss, and a support spot on Bon Jovi’s ‘New Jersey’ tour gave the fledgling quintet their breakthrough.

Unfortunately, Bach’s dark side was soon revealed and he claimed to have “punched the shit out of Jon, decked him on his fat little ass” when a dispute about a contract Skid Row had signed with Bon Jovi’s Underground publishing company was leaked to the press.

Seb’s wild man credentials were further emphasized by a string of antics, some amusing and some irresponsible. He wiped his derriere on a copy of the Daily Star at Docklands Arena (his tackle flying free in the process) and incurred a lifetime ban at Wembley through playing the song ‘Get The Fuck Out’ when warned not to. Even more regrettably, however, he also wore a T-shirt emblazoned with the slogan ‘Aids Kills Faggots’, and in front of MTV’s cameras threw a glass bottle back into a Massachusetts crowd after it had hit him on the head. A female 14-year-old required 125 stitches.

Finally, Skid Row’s patience snapped, and the relative failure of ‘Subhuman Race’ enabled them to dismiss Bach at the end of 1996. The last time he spoke to Classic Rock, in Issue 13, Sebastian claimed to have no idea why he’d been ‘let go’, adding ruefully: “I’ll never understand why we dropped the ball.” Now a solo artist, his 1999 album ‘Bring ‘Em Bach Alive’ has just been reissued, and Bach has a variety of projects on the go.

DL. You’re here for an appearance on the Never Mind The Buzzcocks, the BBC1 game show. Do you know much about British pop music?            SB. Ha ha… no. Well, Iron Maiden had a No 1 record, so that’s pop music, right?

DL. So how will you act when they inevitably take the piss, as they did to Megadeth’s Dave Mustaine and Bruce Dickinson from Iron Maiden?            SB. I’ve been on that show twice in America, but the American version flopped - hopefully that wasn’t my fault. I don’t know how a host on British game show could go after me… they’re the retarded ones for paying me $1,800 to come over for 45 minutes work. Dude, everyone says he’s gonna be horrible, but I’ll show him fuckin’ horrible! I can rewrite the fuckin’ level of horrible. I’ll give him a taste of horror.

DL. You recently posted an extremely touching tribute to your father, David Bierk, at your website. Which characteristics good or bad did you inherit from your parents?            SB. My dad was a painter who had shows all over the biggest galleries in New York. Elton John, Bon Jovi, Axl Rose and Gene Simmons all bought his paintings. He just let me know that nothing was impossible. My intensity, the way I talk, he made me realize that singing wasn’t a vocational choice, it was a life choice.            My only regret is that I’ve been on the road from the age of 13 to now, aged 34, and I missed out on so much family life. I never just got a bowl of popcorn, sat down with my dad and watched the TV. He told me on his deathbed, ‘Everybody in this world is too busy’. I’d say to readers of this magazine, if you’ve got somebody - whether it’s your brother, your mom or sister - just enjoy life with them for just a fuckin’ second, because I look back and God… [trails off].

DL. Since being kicked out of Skid Row in 1996 you’ve spread your wings into TV presenting and appearing in the Broadway versions of Jekyll & Hyde and The Rocky Horror Show.            SB. One of my idols, Geoff Tate [of Queensrÿche], keeps calling and asking how I got onto Broadway. The honest truth is that Broadway came to me. I never in a million years thought I’d have the braincells left to memorise the Jekyll & Hyde script. I shit you not, it’s like War And Peace. How it happened was that Jason Flom at Atlantic signed Skid Row in 1987, and Atlantic also has a theatre division. Jason called and said I had the meanest voice and the personality to do it, and believe me when I was Edward Hyde I became Edward Hyde. It was cool music, I swear, some of it’s like ‘Sad Wings Of Destiny’ [the 1976 Judas Priest album].

DL. When a woman in the first row handed you a rose, you bit the head off. Why did you do that?            SB. It was my way of saying, ‘I’m on Broadway, but I’m still Sebastian Bach’.

DL. By the time this article is printed, you will be on a year-long US tour playing the lead character in Jesus Christ Superstar.            SB. Andrew Lloyd Webber requested a stack of Skid Row CDs, and all my pictures, I swear to God. And he came back and said, ‘Hello, is Jesus Christ there?’, so he made the decision.

DL. Some might say that this is a role you’ve spent your life rehearsing for.            SB. [Sounding slightly hurt]: I must be a fucking moron. I never thought you would’ve said that, dude. Sometimes I’m so confused by other people’s perception of me.

DL. Well, they say that you’re an egomaniac.            SB. Dude, you have to be on of those to go on stage. What do you want to see, some fucking guy singing [in nerdy, apologetic voice]: ‘We are the youth gone wild’? If I didn’t have my ego I wouldn’t be doing it. I don’t think it’s misplaced though, I hope not. I wake up every day and hope I’m gonna have a great day, be the nicest guy ever. But if someone’s a dick to me, I’m gonna be a fuckin’ dick back to them.

DL. You’re an ass-kicking rock dude from the 80s that’s now playing Jesus. Could you imagine Axl or Vince Neil doing the same thing?            SB. Absolutely not, and that’s not a slight against them, Axl has already proved he can’t be on time. I love Axl Rose, but let me get this through everybody’s head: we’re talking eight shows a week for 42 weeks. That’s tough work.

DL. Would you someday like to follow your old rival Jon Bon Jovi into the movies?            SB. I don’t differentiate ‘movies’ or ‘Broadway’, what I care about is presenting my fans with something that entertains. And if I’m entertained by it my fans will be, too. So if I got a great film role, yeah, cool.

DL. What do you think of Jon’s acting abilities? And would he work you him in an acting role if the part demanded it?            SB. I’ve never seen him really act. There was one movie where he was a pot dealer, and I saw a little bit of that, but he’s a very good actor because he doesn’t smoke pot! I did have acrimony towards Jon for years, but on my Forever Wild TV show I interviewed Tico Torres [Bon Jovi drummer], we played ‘Lay Your Hands On Me’, had a brew at the bar and talked about the old days. All I was ever mad at Jon for was to let me have my own life. That was it. Please, I don’t need someone to hold my fucking hand.

DL. We didn’t get to see your VH1 rock show Forever Wild before it was cancelled back in April. Care to tell us about it?            SB. It was kinda obscure, I got to go through the VH1 vaults and pick the videos. We had ‘You Really Got Me’ by Van Halen on the first show, and W.A.S.P.’s ‘I Wanna Be Somebody’… but it was my show!

DL. That explains why it ran for just five months.            SB. Yeah, but it was fun. I got to go to Ted Nugent’s 200-acre farm and shoot wild boar, and eat it, of course. I went car racing with Vince Neil and golfing with Tommy Lee. I was in the studio with Rob Halford while he was recording the song ‘Crucible’… waaaaaah! It was 16 episodes, which was twice as long as the [first series of] The Osbournes. Maybe a fifth of the people watched it, but it was a midnight rock show.            They offered me another show, at four in the afternoon, but they would be picking the videos and it was cheesy things like Quiet Riot, stuff to laugh at. I will not make fun of heavy metal, or patronize people.

DL. You then resurfaced on - of all things - the Learning Channel’s The New Sideshow, which was described as “a not-for-the-weak-of-heart documentary on today’s more outrageous carnival acts” that included human pincushion The Impaler. Do you do these unusual things to keep you in the public eye, or because you enjoy them?            Of course because I enjoy them… doh! Let me offer this piece of advice, I’ve not changed my home phone number since 1989. Never make yourself too inaccessible, it’s good for business when people know where you are. I wake up, press play and it’s, ‘Hey Sebastian, do you want to do this?”… next message, ‘Hey Sebastian, how about this?’            You just have to play the cards that are dealt you, it’s a very different world than it was. I’m in this to sing, so if I can get my voice heard in whatever fashion then that’s what I’ll do. Ozzy is the most famous he’s ever been, not because of his music but because of a fucking TV show. I’m not being flown over to England to sing, I’m being flown over to go on a gameshow. That is fucked. What you also have to consider is that the venues I’ll be playing Jesus Christ in are the same ones that Skid Row headlined for ‘Slave To The Grind’ tour… the Paramount in Seattle, the Fox in Atlanta. But instead of doing one show, I’m now doing eight shows in the same venue. So I’ve finally topped what I did in the past.

DL. C’mon, you must admit you’d rather be coming here to play rock music?            SB. I’ve just saw in your magazine that Alex Lifeson says no British promoter wants Rush. Hey, I’ve been asking British promoters since 1996 to come over and they just laugh! I’ve done two full American tours, 104 shows on the first tour, 90 shows on the second, a sold-out tour of Japan. I’m dying to play here, man, but the offers they give me are like… restaurants! Don’t you have to suck first? I’ve never played England and flopped - not fucking once! Thank God for the USA.

DL. You just mentioned The Osbournes. Can you imagine the footage MTV would have got if they’d followed you around in 1992?            SB. Ha ha ha, there wouldn’t have been a TV show made out of it. You couldn’t air it. But there seems to be a perception that as soon as we woke up and did drugs and drank, and that’s not true. I never did a show drunk - ever.

DL. Am I right in thinking you’ve cut out most of those antics?            SB. I hate that shit, I’ve not done a line [of coke] since 1993. I have no desire to. A part of me still has that personality when I get too sad, when my dad died I was drinking way too much, but just beer. Back in those days everybody was fucking doing it, you were the weirdo if you weren’t.

DL. You were recently involved in what was dramatically reported as “making terroristic threats” to a New Jersey bartender who refused to let you take your drink outside his club, then for having marijuana and rolling papers on you when you were arrested.            SB. I’d been shooting an episode of Forever Wild with Vince Neil, who’s always a bad influence on me; they talk about the bad boys of rock, I’m like Queen Elizabeth compared to Vince. But there’s a side of me that can get down and dirty. I was with Vince for a week down on south beach in Miami, waking up each morning and just getting ripped. When I got back to New Jersey, my chick was giving me shit on the phone because she wanted to party with Mötley Crüe. And I was like, ‘Babe, it’s my job, I get paid to party with the Crüe. This is how I feed our kids, so let me party with the Crüe, you stay home and everything’ll be fine’. And she was like, ‘Grrrrrrrrr’. So I go, ‘Fuck you, I’m not coming home’ and tell the limo driver to turn around because we’re going to Broadway.            I get a hotel suite and get VH1 to pay for it, order up fucking booze and some other things, and all my friends come over to party. I stayed there for like two days, until she called and was nice to me. It’s a two hour limo drive home and by then I’m so fuckin’ drunk, my chick gives me a little bit of shit. So I take a bunch of Molsons [beers] and walk to this bar, I never drive while drunk. I’ve been going to this bar for 12 years and all these chicks, dudes and businessmen are excited to see me, so then I’m holding court. This guy suggests we go outside and bust a joint, but the bartender says he’s gonna call the police if I take my beer - I told him to go ahead. He fucking rails me, punches me right in the fucking head and I freaked out, so I tackled him around the waist brought him into the one wall, stood on his neck and said, ‘I’ll fucking kill you, mutherfucker’. The whole bar was freaked out, but he threw the first punch. I had a couple of joints in my pocket, so I got busted for marijuana. And the next day’s headline was, ‘Sebastian Bach Busted For Drugs And Terroristic Threats’. Dionne Warwick was arrested for having seven marijuana cigarettes, and I had a joint… someday maybe I can be as wild as Dionne fuckin’ Warwick. What fuckin’ bullshit.

DL. If Skid Row came back to you - and I stress those four words - would you someday agree to rejoin them?            SB. It’d all depend on the music, that’s the only reason I joined them in the first place. But Rachel [Bolan, bass] and Snake [guitar] were the best fucking songwriters I ever fuckin’ met, and they just don’t do it anymore. Anyone can go on the internet and find out what happened between me and the guys, just download the Ozone Monday record [make with singer Sawn McCabe]. That was supposed to be the fourth Skid Row record. The reason I’m not singing on it is that it fucking sucks! I mean, Andrew Lloyd Webber or Ozone Monday? Well [chuckles maliciously]…

“Kids think that music is free. My 14-year-old son downloads Arch Enemy and Cradle of Filth songs and I’m the asshole dad who says, ‘Bands worked really hard on those’”

DL. Do you even have any interest in hearing ‘Thick Is The Skin’, the album they’ve made with your replacement, Johnny Sollinger?            SB. No. But what fucking year will it come out. Those guys have been saying, ‘We got a whole album done’. Well, let’s fuckin’ hear it. I’m giving you two fucking albums, I’m giving you three fucking musicals, five tours. I’ve got nothing to hide, dude. You may not even like ‘…Bach Alive’, but at least I’m delivering product.

DL. Why do you feel that the band made such a phenomenal early impact, from the Marquee to Hammersmith Odeon in a matter of months?  SB. Just the songs and the way we attacked our music. Revolver magazine recently said Skid Row was one of the best metal albums of all time because they played a song like ‘Youth Gone Wild’ like they were playing ‘Angel Of Death’ by Slayer.            Would they be so successful now? In the year 2002 kids think that music is free. My 14-year-old son spends all day downloading Arch Enemy and Cradle of Filth and I’m the asshole dad who has to say, ‘You shouldn’t be making those CDs, those bands worked really hard on those’. He looks at me like, ‘What the fuck is your problem?’            I get like emails that say, ‘Sebastian, I went to five shops looking for ‘Bring ‘Em Bach Alive’ and couldn’t find it, but I downloaded it and it fucking rocks, dude’. One the one hand I wanna go, ‘Thanks man’, and on the other hand I wanna hold my head in my hands, but everybody’s in that same situation.

DL. So you were in agreement with Lars Ulrich on the Napster issue?            SB. Oh, definitely. I even did this CD called ‘Bach To Basics’ because somebody told me to go onto Napster and when I saw what Sebastian Bach stuff was available I almost fuckin’ committed suicide. The whole The Last Hard Men CD was there, before I even fuckin’ played it for my friends. So I ripped my own CD off Napster and now I sell it on the web.

DL. The last time we were in a room together you lost your temper in a row over ‘Subhuman Race’. Can you now stand back a bit and understand why fans felt it wasn’t as good as the first two?            SB. Yeah, but how can a writer say what a record should sound like when they’re not even in the band? What I find humorous is that nobody liked that record, but 12 years later we’re still talking about that fucking record. When I hear ‘Subhuman Race’ now I hear more Bob Rock [producer], because he did the same thing as he did on Metallica’s ‘Load’. He changed things. I remember him saying, ‘Everybody knows you can scream, Sebastian’, and suggesting I sing like Scott Weiland [of Stone Temple Pilots]. Why don’t you just take a thoroughbred racehorse and hit him on the fuckin’ kneecap with a baseball bat? I do like that album, but it’s not a fun record. ‘Youth Gone Wild’ was fun.

DL. Let’s imagine you can go back in time and change three events in your life. If you don’t mind, I’d like to guess that they would be: a) signing away such a large percentage of your royalties to Jon Bon Jovi, b) the bottle-throwing incident and c), not having hit Jon harder. Am I right?            SB. Awww, I have more good memories of Bon Jovi than bad ones now. I’ve bashed Jon relentlessly in the past, but I don’t feel that way any more. When I think of those times when I was touring with Bon Jovi and living at his house for two weeks… okay, maybe the deal we signed wasn’t the most equitable of all time, but it’s possible that if we hadn’t, you might never have heard of me. And I respect his tenacity in an industry that devours its young and old alike.            So to answer your question… I did wear a really ridiculous T-shirt, and I can’t believe I’m bringing it up again, but it was really rotten, really stupid. And the bottle throwing thing, yeah, I’d change that. Then again, if somebody cracks you in the head with a bottle, what do you do? You ain’t thinking rationally. If somebody hit me with a bottle in the head again I’d probably knock the fuck right out of them.

DL. You even turned down Playgirl?            SB. Twice. I already get known for things other than my voice, like my hair or going to jail or whatever, and I want to be known as a singer. That means more to me than anything.

Apart from your Broadway activities, what’s the delay in following up ‘Bring ‘Em Bach Alive’?            Atlantic Records signed me in 1987 and they still have first right of refusal [on my work]. ‘Bring ‘Em Bach Alive’ has the Atlantic logo and the Spitfire logo because Atlantic technically owns Sebastian Bach, and they license to certain territories where Atlantic didn’t put it out - including Britain, because Mary Hooton, my great friend, fucking rejected the fucking record.The next record will be done when it’s done. I want to deliver a product that’ll get the proper exposure; I don’t want it coming out three years later in one country than another. I’m doing it, but the fans have to realise how the internet has taken the wind out of the sails of the music industry. There’s always trepidation and anticipation about delivering a CD in this climate.

DL. How do you think you’ll feel aged 65 with 'Youth Gone Wild' tattooed on your arm? SB. I’ll just get “I was the” tattooed on my bicep. Right up here, dude. I got that space reserved.

 P.S. Dave says...          

Larger than life and twice as unpredictable, Sebastian Bach has now been out of Skid Row since 23rd December, 1996, the day that co-founding guitarist Dave ‘Snake’ Sabo sacked him after receiving a torrent of hate in answerphone form. The parting of ways between singer and the New Jersey band had been a long time coming. Notorious for short-fuse temper as for chiseled cheekbones and multi-octave voice, Bach drove the group’s instrumentalists mental but was accommodated by the rest of Skid Row for as long as their patience would stand. Post-Skids, Bach hasn’t exactly stuck to the traditional route. He acted in the musical versions of Jekyll & Hyde and Jesus Christ Superstar and went on to appear in various TV shows, though age and luvviedom have failed to mellow him. Sebastian recently completed a whirlwind tour of the UK and a new album – his first set of all-new solo material – is due next year. (17th December, 2004)

[placetobenation]

Ladies and Gentlemen, I begin this article tipping my hat to two podcasters who equally match wit and chemistry.  The podcast they share, on episode #561 of print, is one that others often try to emulate.  Financiers will spend tens of thousands of dollars in advertising budgets to build a brand that these two organically developed through talent alone.  That trinity of talent, chemistry and attitude ushered in a new era.  That effort has captured the entire globe in a cult following of professional wrestling and pop culture.  We quickly learned talented people are standing by to place pillars of excellence to further build upon.  This all started with a crackling into an MP3 file called “The Place to Be”.  Stumbling upon the new movement of radio on demand and jumping on the bandwagon these two were encouraging in the ProBoards format.  That is where I met Derek Cornett for the first time.  Then I met Jay Ouimette.  We will talk about him later.  The privilege in podcasting genius has made entertainment fun again, and we have had a decade of laughter in the process.  I can honestly say my quality of life is better because of that nucleus moment in February 2011.  Hence penning an article and being honest in my words.  To be accepted by a wide audience without judgement.  That, to me, is the Place to Be.  

             I woke up at about 9:45am on Tuesday Morning, September 11, 2001.  I turned on the news, hoping to hear more about Michael Jordan returning to the basketball court, and I see Peter Jennings on the local ESPN channel.  I am probably getting ready to smack my remote when I see a building standing amongst a billowing cloud of smoke.  I was trying to figure out where it was, and I saw New York on the scrolling headline. There is only one place in New York that looks like that.  Beginning to imagine the horror taking place before my eyes; this is clearly an act of terrorism before Mr. Jennings said it.  Not even 15 minutes later, another building collapsed. This day changed my life forever.

            My father has experience in emergency management as a career firefighter.  He has also served loyal and faithful duties to the United States.  On top of those, he is also a veteran. His service was interesting, due to his ability to duck and dodge a draft.  He enlisted in 1971; taking the test like his life depended on it and got college money as a bonus.  He spent a hair over two years in the United States Army as a welder in Germany, all the while when a Palestinian terror organization kidnapped and held hostage the Israeli Olympians.  No attempt in getting political, but these events have happened close to home for me all too often.  Coming back to that moment, as I am watching Mayor Rudolph Giuliani walk through the streets of New York, directing everyone away from the destruction, I have had enough.  As the days and weeks lumbered on, the more despair I felt because I wanted a piece of the action.  We have seen the shenanigans of the Al Qaeda terror network for far too long.  We watched the Beirut bombing in 1983, the first WTC attack in 1993, 1998 twin bombings of U.S. Embassies on the horn of Africa, and the 2000 bombing of a Naval Ship off the coast of Yemen, killing 19 Sailors in the process.  Osama Bin Laden has been practicing what he has been preaching for far too long, and by hell or high water, I wanted to be part of the solution.   We all watched the same terror training camp videos on the news, and I was hook, line, and sinker in to getting my hands on those bastards.  

            This decision to join the military happened fast, and over a six-month period, all at the same time.  I was deliberately not watching the news to cognitively process my emotions. Is this a decision I am ready to make?  Do I want to risk my life to take another?  These were questions I was saying yes far too easy to.  Hearing bag pipes at funerals for the next three months were a serenade to my thoughts.  

            What did not help in my congitive thought process was living so close to something like that, the entire community was hurting. In the summer of 2002, fresh off a split with my ex-wife, I went down to the World Trade Center site for the first time, out of respect and reflection.  What stood out to me were the flyers of loved ones everywhere. Old, young, man, woman, and child.  People were there crying over losses and having a hard time moving on.  These things that I was experiencing with my senses: the smell of a disaster, the sound of construction workers and crying, the vision of the enormous hole in the ground, and looking left and right and seeing the flyers. It was not necessarily my calling, but it was a gut feeling that I have never experienced before.  I just simply knew what I wanted to do, and I what I felt I had to do, for my own personal closure to such a horrific event that impacted not only America, but my community.  If these men can give their all for a greater cause, then why the shit shouldn’t I?  John Fogerty said it best, “Put me in Coach.  I’m ready to play”.     

            My real life was imploding because of my obsession to join the military, to defend a lot of different things I could not express openly, because I was not able to do so. I was only a civilian.  I had no credentials.  I wanted to defend our children against bullshit cowardly attacks that destroy our lives.  I wanted to defend the people who decided to jump to their death instead of using anymore time to save their life.  I wanted to defend the mothers, wives, daughters who lost a brave man to careers that scream danger.  Most of all, and I carry their mantra with me to this day and beyond, I will defend those first responders and civilian heroes on the battlefield (volunteer efforts and United 93 Passengers), who died attempting to save others.  The average reaction time for all the heroes, professional and volunteer, of September 11th was an incredible and astonishing FOUR SECONDS.  That is all the time they needed to cast their vote and say, “Not on my fucking watch”.  To me, those moments of pure adrenaline and selfless service were the first victories in the Global War on Terror campaign. Those heroes of the battle showed me the courage needed to take on a terror organization.  

            To describe my demeanor, at best, I am socially inept.  I am admittedly way more Dwight Schrute, or Andy Bernard than the cool guy Jim Halpert.  With that said, on September 17, 2002, I deliberately walked up to an Army Recruiter in his office and proclaimed, “I want to jump out of airplanes and kill the Taliban”.  I will never forget his response. “That is terrific, but you kind of have to sit down and watch this video first and discuss options”.  We discussed options, and the best he could do for me was an MOS (Military Occupational Specialty) of 11B, which was an Infantryman.  If I wanted to go to a Special Forces detachment, I would have to meet their qualifications after initial service.  I accepted, scored well on the test, background check squeaky clean, signed the dotted line for a First Blood match with some Iraqi and Syrian forces, and only one walks out victorious.  I was headed to Fort Benning, GA for the first round of qualification bouts to step into the arena and dance with the Devil himself.  

            For the next 18 months, I trained and trained hard for a deployment to Iraq, with the 2-5 Cav (2nd Battalion, 5th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Regiment).  We went through grueling simulated combat operations for weeks at a time without so much as a shower, let alone a beer.  We were not simply going through the motions, we had leadership from the top down that firmly believed that combat training should be more difficult then real-world combat operations, so the fog of war will be easy to operate in.  We received our orders in November of 2003 that we will be headed to Sadr City, Iraq.  Everyone was pumped and excited to get their hands on these same individuals who believe that democracy must be defeated in war.  There was also motivation to let out aggression for the months of grueling training.  I was primed and ready to go.  

            To be prepared for battle in which a known enemy has you in its sights and ready to destroy you, you must have a certain mind set.  We were a highly trained unit, but only a handful have seen combat in Afghanistan since this was the beginning of Operation Iraqi Freedom.  We would talk amongst ourselves about being able to look another man in the eyes and pull the trigger.  The answer always came back to “its either you or him that is going to die.  Have a vote in the outcome”.  We all had that swagger in the tent in the days prior to actual combat, but none of us, commanders included, had no clue on what we were about to embark, a life changing moment for every single man in that formation.  

Through the Place to Be, I have been able to meet so many wonderful people who inspire me to be a better man.  JT has never left an empty message, even if it were to simply send a DM about a great show he had.  Andy Atherton for allowing me the opportunity to write this article.  Will from Texas, I was a fan of his before I discovered the Place to Be when he had Good Will Wrestling on Blog Talk Radio.  He allowed me to do one of the “For Your Consideration” podcasts.  Not only was that a gift in itself, but it was a three-man booth with Johnny Sorrow posted on the Fourth of July, 2017.  I listen to it back once, but the live experience was so good, that could never be duplicated.  Aaron Stolz and the genius he brought to the Saturday Morning Spectacular, and we served together in the same unit in Iraq.  Ben Ivanson, Steve Rogers, Chad Campbell, J. Arsenio D’Amato, Derek Cornett, Justin Rozzero, all guests on the Spectacular, all come from the Place to Be genesis.  I say thank you to you all, and most importantly, thank you ALL for YOUR service!

[rob-blog1234]

WEEKEND TV HOT FILM PICKS!

Check out my guide to the top films on TV this weekend and the best of the rest. Enjoy!

LATE FRIDAY 15th SEPTEMBER

HOT PICKS!

Syfy @ 0000       Strange Days (1995) *****

Strange Days is a seriously underrated Sci-Fi film. Written by James Cameron and Directed by Kathryn Bigelow this film certainly has the right credentials. It’s packed full of some really stunning action sequences, the story has great depth and an intelligent entry into the Sci-Fi genre. Although made in 1995 and with a story set 2 days before the millennium, it still has a very fresh feel. For fans of Sci-Fi this is a serious must see… For everyone else, the same applies, it really is that good. Ralph Fiennes is brilliant as the morally questionable ex-cop turned hustler, Lenny Nero. The POV shots in this film are masterfully put together. Engaging, action packed and full of thrills. Don’t miss this.

C4 @ 0120      The French Connection (1971) ****

The French Connection: An intense, gritty and fast paced Police Drama packed full of action. Set in New York the story follows two cops plan to intercept a massive Heroin shipment from France. Hackman is outstanding - one of his best performances. He is infectious on screen and throws every part of himself into his character as Popeye - the bigoted, heavy drinking yet dedicated narcotics cop.  The film has a real raw edge that other cop films lack and the car chase scene is nothing but superb, one of the best of all time. This is a film packed with greats, from the acting, the specific scenes, in fact the whole film itself. If you like film - you’ll Love this.

Best of the rest:

Disney @ 1802    Aladdin (1992) *****

Syfy @ 2100        Westworld (1973) ****

TCM @ 2100       Goodfellas (1990) *****

Film4 @ 2315      Prometheus (2012) ***

Film4 @ 0140      Requium for a Dream (2000) ****

SATURDAY 16th SEPTEMBER

HOT PICKS!

C4 @ 2100     Super 8 (2011) ****

Super 8 was never received as well as I expected. It felt to me like it came just at the right time. I was crying out for some homage to the 80’s. Recently in seeing the tremendous Netflix series Stranger Things I am well and truly crying out for more. So until that time - why not get a dose of 80’s with Super 8.

This film reminds me of all the great 80’s films with a cast of children - From E.T to The Goonies, they all have a place in my film appreciation heart. Super 8 is a fantastic Sci-Fi adventure. I was particularly impressed with how it transferred to the small screen and the train crash is extremely impressive even without a huge cinema screen and sound.

Set in 1979 a group of kids are making a zombie film with Super 8 camera. As they film by a railway track they witness a huge train crash and luckily escape unscathed. They begin to suspect it was no accident as a number of strange events take place in the town.

I’ve always been a fan of Abrams work. Especially Star Trek. I even tolerated his insistence of using copious amounts of lens flare. I thought that to a degree it worked really well in a futuristic, reflective surface filled space ship setting, but here we see once again lens flare features, and the more I watch it, the more it just sticks out like a sore thumb. Anyway - Regardless, Super 8 is a great little adventure. Watch this.

Film4 @ 0115     Black Swan (2010) *****

I can never get over how dark Black Swan is - every time I see this film it gets better and better. This is true Horror, cleverly masquerading as a thriller. Darren Aronofsky has created a fabulous, engaging and quite unsettling look into the life of a troubled ballerina who snaps up the lead role in Swan Lake. Natalie Portman is fantastic here. The fact she trained to actually become a Prima ballerina for this role paints a clear picture of her dedication to this film. It really shows in her performance, but the quality doesn’t end there - there are a whole host of perfect characters that we are introduced to. Cassell as Thomas - the compelling dance director, Kunis as the rival dancer, but especially the brilliance of Barbara Hershey who plays Portman’s overbearing and intimidating mother, she is truly unhinged. I’ve always loved Aronofsky’s style and this really showcases his talent.

Best of the rest:

Film4 @ 1645    Field of Dreams (1989) ****

ITV4 @ 1745      Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986) *****

Syfy @ 2000      Westworld (1973) ****

W @ 2100          From Dusk Till Dawn (1996) ****

Sony @ 2100     A Few Good Men (1992) ****

Syfy @ 2200      Soylent Green (1973) ***

Syfy @ 0000      Twelve Monkeys (1995) *****

SUNDAY 17th SEPTEMBER

HOT PICKS!

Film4 @ 1635     Moonrise Kingdom (2012) *****

Quite possibly the most Wes Anderson-y Wes Anderson film yet. Beautifully quirky. Wes Anderson can do no wrong in my book. A fabulous rich heart-warming tale packed with all the Anderson traits I love so well. A joy to watch.

ITV2 @ 2010      Gravity (2013) *****

Back in 2013 our senses were overloaded with this new level of cinematic experience. It restored my faith in IMAX 3D proving it still had a place in cinemas and it also became one of my favourite films of the year. It felt like I had seen this many times but in fact all I have always done is watched the opening 20 mins over and again, showing its spectacle to friends and family as the destruction of Explorer booms through the surround sound. So surprisingly, this was my first full re-watch.

One thing is certain - this is still an amazing spectacle and the unbelievable amounts of tension remain very much alive on re-watch. I was still left holding my breath at many points during the film. I was still completely gripped throughout, I had actually forgotten how exciting some of the scenes were, my memory almost always just focuses on the opening scene. Admittedly this time I did roll my eyes at some of the script but instantly forgot and forgave them as the tension once again ratcheted up and the next explosive sequence battered my senses into submission.

I called this film a “cinematic success” and this still holds true. It still works wonders on a big & loud home cinema set ups but I doubt it would have the same impact on small screens and portable devices. This film needs to be accompanied by the large cinematic set ups it was obviously created for. A solid, visually ground-breaking film that still carries the tension and adrenalin on repeat viewing. Love it.

Sony @ 0125     Moneyball (2011) *****

Baseball, Finance, Maths.... Sounds like a recipe for a bore fest of some magnitude. Do not be put off. This film is more about the people than the sport or the money. Full of heart, expertly directed and edited with a punchy script. Some amazing use of sound and one of Pitt's best performances to date. It's beyond me how a sport and statistics film can provide such riveting entertainment. I'm sure you won't believe me - so you'll just have to check it out for yourself.

Best of the rest:

TCM @ 0710       What's Up, Doc? (1972) ****

Syfy @ 1320       Star Trek II: the Wrath of Khan (1982) ****

Syfy @ 1800        Contact (1997) ****

E4 @ 2000           Home Alone (1990) *****

ITV4 @ 2100        Airplane! (1980) *****

5* @ 2100            21 Jump Street (2012) ****

C4 @ 2305           Slumdog Millionaire (2008) ****