#i want them to walk past my car at big tesco and then go back to read the bumper stickers and then take some time to PROCESS them

[lengthy-artery]

it's very hard to find weird bumper stickers for sale in the uk so i've resorted to making my own

[themascarasnakeuniverse]

An introverts journey towards ghosts.

I was able to wake early the morning of the trip. I have not been an early riser since I discovered beer and being awake at such an hour felt like a minor triumph. I had stayed away from the pub the previous night for that reason. I wanted to be in a fit state mentally and physically. However I did not want to be on the road too early. Having a job with antisocial hours means I am often off when schools are open. The plan was to leave between nine thirty and ten in the morning. That way I would miss the initial rush hour and the later school traffic.

After a pretty healthy breakfast and a cup of coffee I checked my bag. I wanted to take my camera. My good camera. The spare phone charger and battery pack where also in place. I left my flat and went to my car. Whilst I do like to plan and have a routine to a certain extent I am happy to leave certain things to change. I fixed my phone to the holder on the dashboard and opened the map app. I typed in the town, not a specific postcode, just the destination town and selected the first route it offered me. I pulled out of my road with a smile on my face knowing I had a couple of hours to myself with just my podcasts for company.

Doubts crept into my mind as I travelled along the motorway. I had chosen to study in a shitty and backwards little town and that was one of the factors that caused me sadness now. I realised I was driving past more interesting cities to visit a backwater, a place with little to recommend it. If I was going to go on a one day road trip it might as well be to a city or at least a prettier town. I made a mental note. Visit these cities for a mini break. It would be possible to get good late deals on hotel rooms and this car would easily get me there. Something to look forward to.

When my family used to drive me to and from university I did not take much notice of the route. I either slept or read. I was not expecting my map app to take me over a particularly impressive bridge. “Another excuse to visit the nearby cities for a break” I thought. Come back with your camera. Get some good shots. Explore with a fresh state of mind. Today is for your ghosts.

When I was working my part time job as a student some colleagues where from a nearby smaller town. As I progressed I noticed the road signs and decided to make a detour. These people where not always nice to be around. I heard them talk about me behind my back. When things where going wrong, even if that was not my doing I’d be in the firing line for a bollocking. Also, as a student I was an outsider. They belonged in that county and I did not. Whilst it was not said explicitly it was hinted at. “What does their hometown look like?” I thought as I turned off the map app and followed the road signs.

The first thing I noticed was a massive industrial site that dominated the skyline. Judging by the architecture housing had been built to serve this behemoth. There did not seem to be much else in this town. It made my destination look like a metropolis, like the big smoke. As I continued, looking for a town centre of sorts I happened across a Tesco and small shopping arcade. After parking I looked at the other shops. Most of them where boarded up. The only ones active where a chemist, a charity shop and a branch of Subway. As I needed a toilet I went in and ordered a cup of tea. It was obvious that in this town Subway took the place of Costa or even a greasy spoon cafe in this town. The other customers where sat with drinks. Not a sandwich was in evidence. A rather looking rough woman was complaining to her friend how “the social” had stopped her benefits. I drank up and walked the length of the rather optimistically named “shopping arcade.” Was this the only thing in the town? As I came to the street entrance I realised that was the case. All I could see was houses. Grim post war characterless boxes. And there where many of them. A lot of fuck all. I made my way back to my car past boarded up retail units.

As I reset the map app to my original destination I thought “no wonder the people I worked with from this town were idiots.” This was the type of place I had gone to university to avoid. The type of bland, boring and uninspiring town that made me want to eat my own head. Doubtless there would be people here who would be proud of it. What horrible and unexamined lives they must lead.

[mutedsilence]

Had the idea of writing a short sequel of sorts for I Feel Like I Don't Even Know Him!

It's not finished, and I'm not sure how much I'll write for it, but under the cut is some of what I've got so far. Takes place around chapter 16. Please let me know what you think.

Lestrade was having a long day. He had spent all day dealing with petty criminals, now he had to go back to his boyfriends to take care of Sherlock. Because clearly, the man had never been played before. How had he gone so long without having a man mess with him? Surely he didn't think it was actually love? They did look good together. And Greg had never seen Sherlock so happy.

Mycroft had wanted to send in the cavalry just that morning. Greg was convinced he would have sent England's finest to knock on John Watson's door. He had talked him out of it of course. Although, it was tempting. Sherlock had been so happy before, and now? Well, it hurt to see the man. He would hardly venture from his bed. Acting like a heartbroken teenage girl in some American flick, not that Sherlock watched them. He didn't get the reference. Neither did Mycroft for that matter. Just some offhand comment that Sherlock's age and gender had nothing to do with it.

Now, Greg drove towards Mycroft's house. Honestly, he spent more time there than at his own flat. It was more like home. He just didn't want to move in without Mycroft saying so.

As he put the spare key into the door, it swung open to reveal Mycroft. He had his phone pressed to his ear. "Oh good, you're home," Greg's mind stuttered to a halt, but he didn't have time to ruminate on the use of 'home' before Mycroft had continued. "All my research says that Sherlock should be over it by now. So we have to go to the Watson home to-"

"No!" Greg had found his voice and managed to move towards his impossible boyfriend. "I told you this morning, you're not getting involved."

Mycroft looked at him, his mouth opening and his hand dropping slightly. He shook his head a little and hung up the phone, letting it drop on a nearby table. "You were half asleep. How could I take you seriously when your words are muffled by my chest? Hmm?" Greg just shot him a look. Mycroft rolled his eyes, paired with a perfectly put upon sigh. As if Greg had been acting unreasonably. Him? Of all the people acting unreasonable, it certainly wasn't Greg.

He passed by and dumped his bag on a kitchen chair, making his way to the kettle. Mycroft liked his tea made on the hob, but Greg just wanted tea. "Why not just buy him some ice cream? Like a proper big brother. Not like the British government with a personal vendetta."

The kettle clicked off and was punctuated by another exasperated sigh from Mycroft. He turned and disappeared behind his office door, leaving Greg with two mugs. Perhaps Sherlock would actually drink it if offered.

It was a long shot.

Greg picked up the mugs and went to move down the hall. Towards Mycroft's office and Sherlock's depression filled hovel. He stopped short when Mycroft came to stand in front of him, blocking his path. Mycroft had a jacket on and was slipping his slim wallet into the inside pocket. "Well? Come on then."

This was all too much. So much had happened in the short time he'd been back. All he wanted was a decent cuppa, and maybe a hug from his boyfriend. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so. He sighed, looking down at the mugs he still held, "What are you going on about?" Mycroft looked put out again. It was times like this, Greg could really see the family resemblance.

"To buy ice cream. Come on. It was your idea." The emphasis seemed to do it. He left no room for argument.

Mycroft swept past him, picking up Greg's bag and rooting through it. Greg just shook his head and dumped the undrunk tea on the counter. He took his car keys from inside his pocket and shook them before he walked towards the front door. They needed to get some things anyway. He hated asking Anthea for shopping. He prefered to buy his own food. Plus, he could scout out all the good bargains.

Without looking behind, he climbed back into his car. He'd let Mycroft drive back, he loved to drive, and Greg liked to be driven by him… but he would never take them to Tesco. Mycroft's nose was buried within his phone.

They drove in silence. Only the slight vibration of Mycroft's phone and the quietened chatter of the radio hosts filled the space around them. It was peaceful. Until Greg parked in front of Tesco that is. "Why are we here?"

Greg unbuckled his seatbelt and turned the key. "Ice cream. It was your idea to come now," He made a move to get out of the car, but stopped at the lack of movement from the passenger seat. He sat back and gave Mycroft an expectant glance. "Look, I've got to get stuff too. I can't afford whatever posh place you go to, Tesco is closer than Asda. Not only that, I need petrol and it's cheaper here. Now… shift your shit let's go."

Mycroft's eyes flickered over Greg - then over the shoppers around them. "I'll pay petrol, but we have to go to Sainsbury's."

Greg's mind stopped. He mentally went over what Mycroft had said. Surely he didn't say Sainsbury's? The thought of Mycroft in his three-piece standing in the store - was something he just couldn't picture. He couldn't even picture Mycroft surrounded by orange… or holding a basket for that matter. It wasn't where Anthea went. He knew that. There was some exclusive place that you had to have a membership for. Mycroft sighed, pulling Greg from his mind and back into the car. "He will only eat mint-choc-chip and raspberry ripple. He can taste the difference. Mummy used to shop at Sainsbury's, when he was sad, mummy would give him a bowl of raspberry and mint."

This… was new information.

He could just picture it. A young Sherlock and Mycroft bonding over a bowl of ice cream. He could imagine a young Sherlock throwing a wobbly over what ice cream he was given. The fact it apparently carried on into adulthood made Greg smile. Who would have thought that the man could be so… human.

Greg pulled himself from his musings and started to drive towards the nearest Sainsbury's - unable to argue with Mycroft's reasoning.

[maybankiara]

PHONE SWAP (DREW STARKEY)

04: CHOCOLATE

summary: Addie Mallory is just your average economics student when she meets Drew Starkey at her local Target in Atlanta. This is where the story is supposed to end – a short meeting and a picture to go – except Drew accidentally leaves with the wrong phone, and the story begins, instead.

w/c: 1.8k

a/n: real life, my dudes, it’s real life. (well, after a lil texting sequence.) writing drew is actually hard, believe it or not, and i edited this chapter right after finishing chapter 14 -- and the difference is huge. i’m really excited! as always, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, and tell me what you thought!

read on wattpad

previous part |  series masterlist

drewstarkey | 10:53am Hey! I’ll be running a little late, so meet you at quarter past noon?

addisonmallory | 11:07am That's okay, I would’ve been late, too lol

drewstarkey | 11:08am Okay cool so it’s not just me hahah

addisonmallory | 11:09am Nope, I’ve got a reputation ngl

drewstarkey | 11:11am Let’s see who’s the worse one, then 😂

addisonmallory | 11:14am It’s on 😎

◇

It takes all in Addie to keep Marianne from tagging along. If the French-Brit is anything, it’s stubborn and persistent, which Addie claims to be the worst two stereotypical traits she could’ve picked up from the two cultures – and they both know she’s right.

  ‘I won’t bother you,’ says Marianne, looking at Addie through her rose-tinted sunglasses. ‘I’ll just be behind you. You won’t even know I’m there!’

  Addie sighs and leans sideways against the doorway. Marianne’s foot is blocking the door from closing, and this is all dragging out way beyond rational.

  ‘Marianne, I’m going there for literally five minutes. It’s not a big deal.’

  ‘He’s a famous actor.'

  ‘He’s not even that famous. I met him in a fucking Tesco, Marianne!’

  The look she receives for that statement is scorching – but the edge in the girl’s eyebrow relaxes, and Marianne gives way to one of her quiet sighs. ‘Fine. Whatever. Go have fun.’

  ‘Thanks,’ says Addie; a weak attempt to keep the bitter tone at bay.

  The door shuts with a bang – she waits until she hears faint footsteps disappearing into the heart of the apartment. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Marianne, but the girl usually lives in her own world and tends to disregard the common notions of what would be okay in a situation like this. Addie doesn't hold it against her. She can’t hold who Marianne is against herself.

  With this now over and done with, Addie walks down two flights of stairs and exits the building. It’s a sunny day, just like it was yesterday, and she takes some pride in the fact that she’s got her contacts in, and sunglasses, and a face that doesn’t look like somebody tortured her for a week. There’s a spring to her step even if she tries to control it, and really, Addie just feels great.

  Although, she still can’t believe she’s about to meet up with Drew Starkey to exchange phones because he got startled and gave her the wrong one.

  She doesn’t even have the damn photo they took together.

  The thought makes her laugh, and relax a little, and somehow it clicks in her head that Drew really is just a regular guy, susceptible to ridiculous shitty things happening to him just like everyone else. It calms her on her walk down to Tesco, even when it’s a few minutes after they’ve agreed on meeting up and he's still not here. 

  Expected, really. He did say he’d be late, after all.

  When he finally walks out of the car, she doesn’t realise it’s him, at first. The car he’s driving is a silver Toyota, looking a little older than she'd expect. He parks it a couple dozen feet away from her, and the only reason she even takes note of the car is because it’s similar to the one her high school friends used to drive when they were all still back in town. Her eyes land on the dark-haired figure inside the car and recognises him only when the Atlanta sun shines its light on him, making the brown strands appear almost blonde, blonde structure framed by the sun’s gentleness.

  Something in Addie flutters. It’s not butterflies, but the feeling of excitement at the prospect of an adventure, or something entirely surreal yet about to happen.

  Drew’s face breaks into a smile as warm as summer itself at the sight of her. She gives a little wave, clutching his phone in her hands. It takes him a couple of seconds to cross the distance between them, and he joins her under the shade.

  ‘Hi,’ he says.

  ‘Hi.’ Addie grins back, the sheer lack of knowing what to do bringing heat to her cheeks. ‘Nice car you got there. My friend had the same one.’

  He glances at the car with pride in his eyes, nodding. ‘Yeah, she’s a badass. Stuck with me through thick and thin.’

  ‘You got the AC?’

  ‘Yeah, I had it installed a few years back, when I moved here. Your friend didn’t?’

  ‘Nope.’ Addie shakes her head, sighing at the mere thought of the days she spent roasting in that car during midsummer roadtrips. ‘Some AC would be good right now. I walked here and honestly, I pretty much melted off. Even wearing this.’

  The girl grabs a handful of the dress below her waist, the lower part of the lightest fabric she could find in her closet. It’s an ordinary summer dress meant for beaches and walks under the Mediterranean sun, light blue with flowers scattered all over it, and reaching just to her knees when still. The day is windy, so the fabric sways on the wind, pulling itself a little higher, instead.

  Drew chuckles at her comment and makes one about misjudging the temperature and choosing to wear long jeans instead of shorts, and stops himself mid sentence. ‘Ah, fuck.’ 

  Addie recognises the sigh and the eyeroll, and figures something’s up even before he runs his fingers through his hair, saying, 'I forgot something. I'll be right back.'

  Before she manages to mutter ‘Okay’, he’s making a beeline for his car. She watches him take something out of the glove compartment and he’s back within seconds, holding one of the biggest Hershey’s chocolate bars Addie has ever seen, and her phone is on top of it. She lets out a small chuckle, feeling her eyebrows come closer.

  Drew holds the two in front of her, scratching the back of his neck with the other hand. ‘This is a little something for the inconvenience. And – and as congratulations, you know, for getting the internship.’

  ‘Oh my god, you didn’t need to buy me a chocolate,’ Addie says, voice high pitched in a combination of laughter and disbelief.

  ‘No, I did. Just – just take it, okay?’

  ‘Okay, thanks.’

  Addie’s fingers wrap around the chocolate and she slips her phone into her pocket, handing him his. It feels odd—this whole interaction does—and she has the stupidly childish need to stare at her feet, but she makes herself look up at him, and he does the same once he glances briefly at his phone, putting it into the back pocket of his jeans. He’s squinting a little, and she can’t tell if it’s because of the sun and the fact that he’s not wearing sunglasses, or because that way it's easier to mask the awkwardness she knows he’s also feeling.

  She offers him a smile, earnest as he can, and sees his shoulders drop a little.

  The smile he gives in return is so genuinely apologetic that Addie finds it sweet – contagious, too.

  ‘Look, I really am sorry about this whole thing. I know I keep apologising, but I mean it. The chocolate was the least I could’ve done.’

  ‘And it’s more than enough,’ she reassures him. ‘Honestly. You’re all good. It’s not like you tried to steal my phone.’ She squints at him, jokingly, and crosses her arms on her chest. ‘Unless...?’

  It makes him laugh, wide and bright, and his hair moves gently as his head shakes. ‘Fuck no. I’m not skilled enough for that.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re driving an old Toyota that does’'t even come with an AC. Not good enough for a thief.’

  Drew’s laughter persists, and Addie lets herself relax a little. She leans against the tree with the side of her body, a little tired of being on her feet for so long, one of her hands stuck in her pocket and the other holding onto the chocolate that's getting softer between her fingers and her palm.

  The man in front of her glances around with an edge to it, just like he did back inside the supermarket.

  ‘I should get going,’ he says. ‘It’s an interview week, so…’

  Addie smiles. ‘Yeah, it’s cool. Thanks for bringing my phone back.’

  ‘Once again, I’m really—’

  ‘Okay. It was nice seeing you again. I can’t hear you apologise one more time so I’m going to leave.’

  She considers turning on her heel and pretending to walk away, but she only takes a single step back and gives him a cheeky grin, instead. Drew is staring at her, squinting a little, probably because she’s all in the sun now and her dress is more than a little reflective.

  He raises two fingers, gives her a little salute. ‘Bye, then.’

  Addie repeats the word, mimicking his gesture.

  Drew grins at that and it’s the last she sees of his face, as he turns toward his car and walks away. He waves at her driving out of the parking lot, while Addie fumbles with her headphones and her phone, and she waves back.

  The moment he’s out of sight, she walks back under the tree, completely leaning her back against it. The breeze is enjoyable now, something between comfortable and warm, and Addie feels her heart thumping in her chest. Her eyes flutter and a shaky breath leaves her lungs, lips curling into a smile. Her hands may not be sweaty, but she feels sweaty all around, and knows she should be getting home as fast as possible because of the chocolate she’s holding, but she just... she can’t.

  It’s not like Addie Mallory to get her head spinning at the sight of a boy – far from it. In fact, she likes to think of herself as an experienced person with a level-headed, realistic perspective on life and everything that constitutes. She’s put her career and future first for years now, and this is the first time she feels like she’s taking baby steps when talking to someone new, instead of striding. 

  Except, be as it is, Drew Starkey isn’t just someone new. Even if Addie is used to meeting people of far more importance than her, it’s usually in her line of business, and it’s usually people she knows what to expect from. This is someone who she feels like she knows what to expect from except he breaks all those expectations with ease. 

  It’s far from being the same, so Addie allows herself to be okay with her heart racing, palms sweating, and just getting overall excited like a schoolgirl. This doesn’t make her any less mature or her priorities any less set in stone.

  As Addie goes into her text messages, rereads the one from Harry Martin, she realises that her life definitely took a 180 the day before. She texts him back, letting him know she’s available whenever and apologising for the late reply. Her phone rests against her chest, warm and familiar.

  She’s glad to have it back.

  But, even if she’s having a hard time admitting it, she’s not glad that her story with Drew is over.

◇

05: TOMFOOLERY

tagging. @jjmaybanksbaby​​ @taiter-tots​​ @sacredto​​ @snkkat​​ @drewswannabegirl​​ @yeslifeofateen​​ @rudypnkw​​ @stfukie​​ @x-lulu​​ @sacredto​​ @drewstarkey​​ @butgilinsky​​ @solllaris​​ @hyperactive2411​​ @chasefreakinstokes​​  @surferkie​ @jroseron​ @k-k0129​

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (17) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega

a/n: hey angels! thank u for ur patience, here is yet another chapter of the hellscape that is n19f. as i said on my blog, u will either love this chapter or hate it. either way let me know what u think!! this is a big chunky one at 13k (ik i’m treating u during this quarantine) so grab ur snacks and settle in. lots of love, byeee!

trigger warning: a little light drinking xo

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: Scarlet celebrated her birthday by helping Nina win back Monet, a surprise party organised by her girlfriend, and a suspiciously civil Brooke and Vanjie.

this chapter: from one birthday to another, the gang heads out to the country to celebrate Brooke and Akeria’s 22nd. everyone seems back on good terms, but will the combination of hide and seek, truth or dare, a hot tub and of course a lil bit of alcohol change anything?

***

“Holiday!...da-da-da-dum-dum-daaa, Celebrate!”

Brooke rolled her eyes, unable to help herself laughing as Nina rolled her suitcase towards Monet’s car. “It’s hardly a holiday, is it, girl? Overnighter in an airbnb in the middle of buttfuck nowhere?”

“Listen, I’ll take what I can get, thank you very much,” Nina raised her eyebrows, as Monet lifted the door of the boot up and Nina heaved her case inside.

“Oh, what a compliment,” Monet quipped from beside her, Brooke making a sick noise as Nina slid her arms around her girlfriend’s waist and gave her a squeeze.

“Not with girlfriends, obviously. You’re a Tesco Finest girlfriend. Not a smartprice girlfriend,” Nina explained, Monet smiling proudly and nuzzling their noses together. Brooke already wanted to vomit and she wasn’t even car sick yet.

“Pack it in, bitches, or Monet’s uninvited,” she deadpanned, pushing herself off the wall she was currently leaning against and looking up at her bedroom window, ignoring the girls’ shouts of indignation. “Right, have you got everything, yeah?”

“Have you seen the size of this bitch’s suitcase? I think she has literally managed to pack your kitchen sink,” Monet cocked an eyebrow at Nina, who elbowed her in the ribs. Nina produced her phone from the pocket of her dungaree dress.

“Hey Google, can you divorce your girlfriend?” she asked into the speaker, Monet howling a laugh and shoving her.

“Seriously, guys, I haven’t packed enough anti-sickness tablets for this,” Brooke said dryly, making her way to the passenger door.

“Oh, are you planning on recreating the great rail replacement bus fiasco of ‘18?” came a voice, Brooke turning round and narrowing her eyes at her smug flatmate, emerging through the door with her girlfriend and a small holdall bag.

“I was sat hungover opposite the toilet on a three hour coach journey, what the hell else was I expected to do?” Brooke defended herself. Yvie sat down on the wall outside their building, Scarlet joining her.

“Hmm, all I’ll say, Monet, is that I hope you have at least three empty plastic bags in the back seat with her,” she advised smugly, Brooke wishing she was still leaning against the wall so she could shove her off it.

“When is Plastique coming for you guys? Can I arrange for you to be sitting in the middle of the road when she drives up it?”

“Hey, what the fuck did I say?!” Scarlet yelped, outraged.

“You’re a bystander, Scarlet, and a bystander is worse than a bully,” Nina remarked sagely, Monet nodding along in support.

“Besides, I’m allowed to bully Brooke. It’s part of the lease,” Yvie shrugged, fixing the huge round sunglasses that had been on the top of her head and positioning them so they were right at the bridge of her nose. The March sunshine was welcome; it made Brooke feel happy, optimistic of things to come. Even the small scrub of grass out the front of their stairwell had bright purple, yellow and white bulbs poking through it, bringing a defiant sense of beauty to their surroundings. Brooke had been so pleased with the weather when she’d opened her curtains that morning that she’d packed a bunch of clothes she usually reserved for the summer. It felt odd wearing her denim skirt without the black tights she’d clad herself in for the past three months, but it was a welcome feeling. Yvie hadn’t really seemed to get the Summery memo other than her sunglasses- a huge knitted jumper covered in holes hung off her skinny frame and a pair of thick exercise leggings kept her legs warm.

“You couldn’t spruce yourself up a bit for my birthday, bitch? I feel like any minute now you’re going to start dancing around the street moulting straw singing about how you desperately want a brain,” Brooke smirked, Yvie simpering a fake smile and giving her the finger in response.

“It’s only fifteen degrees, Brooke, it’s hardly time to crack out the Kopparberg and blast T Shirt Weather yet,” Scarlet laughed. It was a bit hypocritical, Brooke thought as she looked Scarlet’s outfit up and down- a floaty, lacey dress and a pair of white Adidas- but of course she would defend her girlfriend. It wasn’t actually fair, contemplated Brooke. Scarlet and Yvie would always team up, so would Monet and Nina. Brooke had to fight all her battles herself.

“Besides, your birthday is over! Move on, hoe,” Yvie smiled, running forward and shaking Brooke’s shoulders relentlessly as the other girls laughed uproariously in the background.  Brooke laughed and batted her away, knowing she was just joking. As she shoved her friend off of her, a familiar grey Audi drove up their street and pulled in behind Monet��s car. Plastique gave her horn a little beep, waving and rolling down her window.

“Let’s ride, bitches! I’m so ready for this weekend,” she squealed, as Yvie and Scarlet rushed to shove their bags in the boot of her car.

“I think I’ve been ready since we booked it,” Nina sighed, stretching. “Right, let’s go, girls! Dun-duun-da-na-na-dun dun.”

As Nina continued singing Shania Twain and hopped in the passenger seat of Monet’s car, Brooke passed by Plastique’s window and gave her hand a squeeze. “You know how to get there, yeah?”

“Up the motorway then off at junction 4 and then just follow all the signs for the B road. We good,” she nodded, then gave a laugh. “Kiki’ll probably end up in France somehow, you know what her sense of direction is like.”

“Yeah, but she’s got Silky and Vanj to direct her. She’ll be fine,” Brooke shrugged, thumping on Plastique’s door and making for the other car. “Right, see you ladies at the airbnb!”

Monet blasted her horn once, twice, three times as Brooke dashed into the back seat and buckled up. As Nina connected her phone to the aux cord and started blasting typically Nina-ish cheesy music, Brooke felt an excited little smile creep up on her face, slapping her hands against her thighs to the beat. The past almost-a-month had gone by quickly, and Brooke and Akeria’s shared birthday trip away had arrived before Brooke had known it. It had been booked on a whim, an excited message from Akeria on the group chat about a potential birthday night out had grown arms and legs until suddenly the girls were all transferring her money for a night in the country to jointly celebrate her and Brooke’s birthdays. They had turned 22 within ten days of each other, and the girls had all decided that the amount of money they would have spent on two big nights out- Ubers, big bottles of vodka for pres, club entry, club drinks and cheesy chips at the end of the night- probably equated to the same, if not more, than the amount they would drop on a boujie house in the country. The house they had booked was huge- five big bedrooms with floor to ceiling windows, a lounge straight out of a murder mystery drama with plush sofas, towering bookshelves and a massive roaring fire, a kitchen with a table big enough to fit them all round and an aga with what seemed to be a thousand burners- though whether anyone would know how to work the damn thing was anyone’s guess, Brooke thought with a snort. The icing on the cake of the whole place, though, was a huge section of outdoor decking with a hot tub set in the middle of it. To most of the girls it would be like living somebody else’s life for the weekend, but, Brooke thought mischievously, to Plastique it would probably seem the same as a weekend at home.

Brooke was glad they could all do something like this, go away together after what had happened. She didn’t really know what had happened to Vanessa to make her warm up to her so unexpectedly. It had all started when they were preparing for Scarlet’s birthday surprise; Brooke remembered how hard her heart had been beating that morning as she’d known it was the first time she’d be properly seeing Vanessa since they broke up, having to wipe her sweaty palms on her jeans as the door to the kitchen had opened and Vanessa, Akeria and Silky had walked in. Akeria and Silky, to their credit, had been fine and normal with Brooke, despite the amount of dragging through the mud they had probably done to her name when they’d heard the news of her and Vanessa’s breakup. Vanessa, (understandably, thought Brooke) had hugged Yvie, Plastique and Nina, but not Brooke, the obviousness of the action lost in the frenetic melee of the girls seeing each other all at once. Brooke had preferred that, though. She wouldn’t have wanted the awkwardness of reminding herself how perfectly her arms seemed to fit around Vanessa, the brief scent of the Aussie shampoo she used in her hair, her head against her chest even for just the tiniest second.

After that, Vanessa had started with the digs. Brooke had thought she’d had malicious intent at first, until she got bored and decided to fire back.

(Yvie’s voice had yelled from the hallway. “Who’s made the cupcakes yet? Anyone?”

“Well if it’s Brooke, we all dyin’ tonight.”

“At least I can make something! How much do you drop on Deliveroo in a month, like, half your student loan?”)

With each verbal sparring match, Brooke had watched as the small, sardonic snorts Vanessa had given evolved into a full-blown beaming smile, the kind she always used to shoot Brooke’s way with the perfect white teeth and the tiny dimple and the little blush that hit her cheeks. It was almost painful knowing that Brooke had given up that smile. And that had been the moment. The moment that Brooke had finally admitted to herself what she’d been wanting to deny all this time- she deeply wished she hadn’t ended things with Vanessa, that she’d fought through the ick and given it at least more of a shot than she had. Now Vanessa had moved on and she was seeing someone else and she was happy. Happy without Brooke. Why had Brooke broken up with her so quickly?

She was an idiot.

“She was an idiot.”

Brooke snapped out of her trance, blinking and trying to figure out how Monet had managed to get inside her head. “What?”

“That woman. Blue car. Completely cut me off,” Monet rolled her eyes, frowning as she inched forward in the traffic until she was almost bumper to bumper with the car in question.

“Oh M'net, don’t start a fight,” Nina sighed, resting her knees against the glovebox.

“I’m not! I’m just letting a bitch know that her misconduct was noted,” Monet growled.

“Her misconduct was noted? God, you’re such a teacher,” Nina laughed, a big chuckle with loads of heart that made Brooke smile.

“Hey, so are you!”

“Stop fucking bickering or I will take your vocal cords and strangle you with them!” Brooke cried, tiring quickly. She watched Monet smirk in the rear view mirror.

“It’s alright, Neens. Just because Brooke’s jealous of happy couples and regrets breaking it off with Vanjie-”

“Wait what? I don’t…oh, Nina, for fuck’s sake! I told you not to tell anyone!” Brooke snapped, training accusatory eyes on her friend. After Scarlet’s birthday, she’d told Nina what she’d told Yvie, just in a little more detail, and she’d been more sympathetic than her other flatmate, making her tea and nodding understandingly as Brooke vented at her. Nina was usually good with secrets, a reliable and trustworthy friend. Brooke couldn’t understand why she would-

“Ahahaha!!! BITCH! You just totally exposed yourself! Oh my God!!” Monet screeched in time with her tyres, thumping her hand against the steering wheel. Brooke was confused, her heart still thudding. “Nina ain’t told me shit but I got eyes and ears, an’ I saw you two flirting at Scarlet’s. All damn day and night. You don’t act like that with someone you just broke up with.”  

“Yeah I’m afraid you just spilled your own secret, Brooke,” Nina deadpanned from the passenger seat, giving a little laugh.

“Shit,” Brooke sighed, putting her head in her hands. “Great. Well, you probably think I’m a total asshole, Monet.”

“Hey, I’m a very chill person! You do you, girl. You wanna get with Vanessa for 3 months, break up with her for one and then get back with her again, that’s no business of mine,” Monet shrugged, a twinkle in her eye.

“Yeah, I know I made a mistake, thanks,” Brooke sighed, biting her lip as she let her thoughts wash over her. Monet had a unique angle on the whole situation. She lived with Monique, of course, and that whole thing was still going on between her and Vanessa, if a message Vanessa had accidentally sent to the group chat last week was anything to go by. Brooke had wondered for days on end whether it had actually been an accident or not, the content of the message sending her crazy with jealousy as it was essentially just Vanessa begging Monique to come round and fuck her into the mattress. She’d considered whether or not it could have been deliberate, but the absolute roasting Vanessa had received afterwards from the other girls couldn’t have been worth it if it had. Brooke considered asking Monet for some inside knowledge, decided against it, and then did a U-turn as she concluded that her pride and dignity were already bruised so she might as well go the whole hog and shatter them.

“So, uh…Vanessa’s still seeing Monique.”

Monet ran her tongue over her teeth. “She’s certainly round at the flat a lot.”

“So is that, uh…I mean, do you think that’s going to turn into anything more, or…?”

“I don’t know, girl, I don’t know if it’s my place to say.”

This is like pulling teeth. “Do you think they-”

“They’re having a lot of sex.”

“Monet!” Nina burst out in a shocked laugh.

“What?! They are!”

“Excellent!” Brooke exclaimed sarcastically, staring out the window as the city around them turned into fields and the houses turned into service stations.

“C’mon, Brooke, you have to admit you do kinda deserve this a lil’ bit,” Monet laughed, Brooke rolling her eyes from the back seat.

“Right, both of you shut up. I’m officially banning any conversations about pining or relationships until we get to the house. We sing, we eat snacks, occasionally we play I Spy. That’s it,” Nina scolded them, turning around in her seat and staring Brooke down. Brooke had never felt more like a disgraced teenager in her life.

“Ughhhh, fine, Mom,” Monet groaned, changing up into fifth as they hit the motorway, the weekend becoming more real and making Brooke tingle with excitement despite the news she hadn’t wanted to hear.

Just as Nina had ordered them, the three girls spent the rest of the journey singing at the top of their lungs to Vengaboys, B*Witched and Cascada, Brooke on crisp duty as she passed the cavernous bag of barbecue rib McCoys forward every five minutes or so, Monet making hurried grabs at crinkle cut crisps in between changing gears. Brooke managed to avoid the dreaded travel-sickness that had plagued her since she was about six years old, much to Monet and Nina’s delight. The sun didn’t let up, and it still hung proudly in the sky as the girls pulled up the leafy, tree-lined driveway to the house they’d booked, the branches hanging low and curling around each other signalling they hadn’t been cut in a while. Spying Akeria’s Corsa and Plastique’s Audi already parked, Monet pulled up alongside the huge white house, the little set of three stone chimneys on the roof puffing out smoke and letting the girls know that at least one room wouldn’t be too cold inside. As Monet neatened up her parking, the sound of Silky’s screeching cut through the crunching of wheels against gravel, and the rest of the girls spilled out of the front door shortly afterwards. As soon as the car had stopped, Brooke excitedly hopped out of the passenger seat, hugging any girl she could reach. Before she knew it, she’d found herself pulling out of a quick hug with Vanessa, and the two were in front of each other.

“Hey,” Brooke decided quickly to speak first, setting the tone so there wouldn’t be any awkward pauses.

“Hey! How was your ride? Get here okay?” Vanessa asked politely, tucking a strand of her caramel hair behind one ear. She was dressed in a tiny little cropped black jumper and some faded grey jeans, Brooke trying to ignore her mind reminding her of how right it felt to wrap her arms around Vanessa again, how tiny her waist was and how much she wished she could go back for another hug- for fuck’s sake, cut that shit out.

“Uh, yeah! It was fine. Traffic wasn’t too bad. How about you?”

Vanessa let out a laugh. “Shit was like Wacky Races. Akeria nearly rammed some old cunt off the road. I’ve never seen road rage like it, we genuinely feared for our lives. Or her license. Oh my God, this house is insane. C’mon, you need to see it!”

There was a split-second where Brooke felt Vanessa tug at her hand, which was quickly dropped as if the action had never happened. It was almost as if Vanessa had been on automatic pilot; the ease with which she used to slip her hand into Brooke’s hadn’t been forgotten by either of them. And then Brooke felt Plastique leap onto her back like a monkey, and the girl was excitedly chattering away to her, and the moment had passed.

Brooke barely had time to take in the huge cream-painted hall with the varnished cream stairs stretching practically up to the ceiling when Plastique steered her down two steps and into the kitchen, grey stone tiles making Brooke’s feet feel cold even through her trainers and the huge wooden table overflowing with assorted snacks. Akeria and Scarlet clung to the rail of the AGA, the two girls clearly feeling the cold in the chilly kitchen.

“Did any of us actually bring a meal between us or are we just going to live off of Twirl Bites and Classic Dip Selections?” Yvie wondered, picking up a four-pack of various dips. Brooke laughed.

“Hey, there’s pizzas in the fridge! Do y’all really think I would let you starve?” Silky piped up, opening the huge fridge to reveal at least ten pizzas, more than they would eat in one night.

“Nobody goes hungry in the presence of Silky Nutmeg Ganache,” Plastique smiled proudly, holding her fist out for Silky to punch. As the girls’ fists connected, Brooke watched as Vanessa scraped a wooden chair out against the stone floor.

“You girls wanna have a munch and then get wrecked?”

“Hmm, if we get drunk too early then there’s no way we’ll be able to work this oven,” Scarlet shrugged, biting her lip and frowning.

“Yeah, we’re gonna struggle to operate this sober,” Monet considered, opening up one of the oven doors and investigating.

“Well how about we snack and then play a game? I wanna play hide and seek in here,” Nina bounced on the balls of her feet excitedly. Akeria snorted.

“Hide and seek, you’re such a child. But to be fair, that could be fun. Or sardines.”

“What’s that?” asked Brooke. “I don’t know if we had that but called it something else.”

“That one where one person hides and everyone else seeks,” Yvie explained. “It’s way better. Way more chaotic.”

“Sweet. I’m down,” Brooke shrugged. She was glad that all of the girls she was friends with were happy to dick about and play kids’ games for an afternoon, and it was the kind of thing she’d miss when she graduated and would have to find a job.

The girls were all feeling peckish after their long drive, though, so they all grabbed the nearest snacks they could and headed upstairs to the living room, where Akeria had managed to start the fire which was crackling warmly in the huge marble fireplace. They all dumped their food on the huge glass-topped coffee table and had a little explore around the house before they relaxed. There was a surplus of bedrooms, and it had been agreed that since they were celebrating Brooke and Akeria’s birthdays, the two girls should have a bedroom to themselves each. Brooke’s bedroom had a huge bay window out to the rear of the house where the fields stretched for miles, and an actual four-poster bed.

“I can’t help but feel like you guys should take this room and I should take yours,” Brooke said with a pang of guilt for Yvie and Scarlet, who had dumped their things in the room they were sharing and had come to investigate Brooke’s.

Scarlet made a noise of discouragement. “No, it’s fine! This’ll get cold anyway, it’s so big. Our room’s cosier.”

Brooke watched Scarlet share a smile with her girlfriend and wrap both of her arms around Yvie’s. “Yeah, honestly, Brooke, it’s fine. Scarlet would manage to bump her head and toe and Christ knows what else on all four of the posts anyway.”

Scarlet burst out into offended laughter, letting the girls know that she secretly agreed a little bit.

“How’re the others?” Brooke asked, peering down the little corridor with the exposed wooden beams and hearing chatter and Monet’s deep laughter coming from the other rooms.

“Plastique, Silk and Vanj are all in together. I think V drew the short straw so she’s on the sofa bed,” Scarlet gave a shrug.

“That’s unfortunate,” Yvie commented, raising her eyebrows at Brooke slightly.

“Behave,” Brooke smacked her, not appreciating the implication. Vanessa had only just become friends with her again. They were hardly going to spend the entire night going at it like rabbits just because Vanessa wasn’t looking at her like she wanted to kill her anymore. “Come on, lovebirds. I feel like I haven’t shovelled enough crisps down my throat today.”

The three girls made their way to the living room again, where Nina and Monet were draped over the sofa and snacking on some sort of jelly sweets. Gradually the other girls joined them in drips and drabs and they spent the time chatting and gossiping in their usual way- about anything and everything under the sun. Brooke kept finding her eyes being drawn to Vanessa. It wasn’t entirely her fault- she was sitting opposite her, and often Brooke would find her already looking her way. Although that could have just been Brooke’s imagination. God, she didn’t even know anymore.  

“Right!” Nina cried, as everyone looked dangerously close to slipping into a snack-induced coma. “Sardines time!”

“Kiki should hide first, it’s her birthday!” Silky argued immediately, Brooke only the tiniest bit affronted.

“Hey, hey, it’s Brooke’s birthday too. Also, I feel like y’all are way more enthusiastic than me about this, so I really don’t mind.”

“Brooke hides first!” Nina shouted unnecessarily. Brooke stood up from the sofa and rolled her eyes.

“Wait, so everyone is after me? Christ. This is like that nightmare I had about being on Hunted.”

“Good luck tryna squeeze that Jolly Green Giant-ass body into any of these cupboards, bitch!” Vanessa yelled across the room to uproarious laughter, Brooke turning round in time to see Vanessa stick her tongue out at her.

“Oh, like you can talk! Are you not the same size as an actual Subway sandwich?” Brooke bit back, sticking her tongue out right back and feeling an excited fizz in her stomach as she caught Vanessa blushing slightly as she laughed. As the other girls joined in with the mocking and all piled on each other, Brooke spotted two girls who weren’t laughing- Akeria and Silky were looking at each other knowingly, a look that seemed to convey disapproval. What the hell was their problem? If Vanessa was fine with her, then that meant there was no reason for the two of them to hold a grudge either, right?

Brooke frowned, trying not to read too much into it. She turned around and headed out the door. “Okay, count to 100 then, bitches!”

As she heard the others all start chanting descending numbers like a terrifying cult of mathematicians, Brooke began dashing around the house for a place to hide. She ran past the bedrooms, assuming that the others would check there straight away. Brooke considered going behind the porch door, but then thought that might end up being too obvious. She found herself in the kitchen, and to her delight she noticed a huge wooden door set into the wall that had to be a cupboard. Opening it, she saw what looked to be a pantry- shelves and shelves with only a couple of tins left by other guests at the house. It was good, but Brooke didn’t think it was a particularly great place to hide until she spotted another door at the very end of the pantry- slightly smaller with a little circular handle. As Brooke turned it, she was confronted with a tiny dark room, with only the blinking lights of the boiler that sat inside to illuminate it.

Perfect.

As Brooke hopped in, she could hear the blood roaring in her ears and her heart thumping. She wanted to giggle. This was exactly how it had felt to play hide and seek when she was little, and she couldn’t believe she was a grown-ass twenty-two year old still feeling the same way. Hell, she couldn’t believe she was a grown-ass twenty-two year old playing hide and seek. Gradually, she began to hear the sound of footsteps thundering above her, the old ceiling creaking and letting Brooke know the girls were on their way. Then, it all went silent for a while. Brooke breathed out heavily. Just then, she heard the door to the pantry open and one set of footsteps shuffle through it. They dashed to the end of the room and then seemed to be satisfied that there was nothing more to investigate- until Brooke heard them do what seemed to be a double-take. Keeping her breathing silent, Brooke stood frozen to the spot as she saw the door gradually open with a long, murder-mystery style creaaak…

Shit.

Vanessa stood at the doorframe to the cupboard, a shit-eating grin on her face. “I’ve been tellin’ Yvie I’m the best at hide and seek, but she ain’t believe me. What’d that take me, two minutes?”

“Yeah, good job, Poirot,” Brooke smirked, although it was hiding a multitude of nerves. Her and Vanessa, stuck in a tight, dark space together until the other girls found them. This was fine. This would be fine. “Right come on then, girl, you need to get in.”

“Fuck no, I ain’t goin’ in there! That’s a straight-up spiders’ nest, fuck that.”

“Just get in!” Brooke grabbed her gently but firmly by the wrist and dragged her inside, closing the door behind them. It was entirely dark except for the small strip of light where the door met the doorframe, which illuminated Vanessa’s hair and collarbones. There was a small beat of silence in which Brooke’s eyes adjusted to the darkness again, and when her vision had settled she could see Vanessa smiling at her cheekily. “What?”

“There’s a spider in your hair.”

Brooke rolled her eyes. “No there’s not.”

“There is! A big one. It’s some Harry Potter type shit, I swear.”

“Shut up, Vanessa, I’m not falling for that shit,” Brooke snorted a laugh, squashing the unease that began to creep up on her.

“It’s got, like, a billion eyes.”

“Has it.”

“An’ forty legs,” Vanessa bit her lip, trying not to laugh.

“What the fuck kind of biology classes did you go to? A spider with forty leg- JESUS!” Brooke all at once cut herself off, feeling a movement at her shoulder, her hair flicking against her neck slightly. She gave herself such a jolt that it felt like whiplash, and she watched as Vanessa laughed at her brushing wildly against her shoulder. Brooke was confused when her hand connected with another hand. Vanessa’s hand. How the hell she’d managed to reach up there without Brooke’s notice was anyone’s guess, but she’d certainly done what she’d set out to do. Brooke launched herself forward and squeezed a hand at Vanessa’s waist, laughing as the other girl screeched in response. The two girls descended into giggles, Brooke having to fend off Vanessa’s playful swipes as she berated her.

“Shut up, bitch! You’re going to get us caught!” Brooke laughed, grabbing one of Vanessa’s wrists in each hand. Suddenly, both girls paused, the compromising position they were in dawning on both of them. The memory of when she used to pin Vanessa to the bed with both her wrists and kiss her neck shot through Brooke’s mind like a hot iron, unwanted and welcome all at once. In the darkness, she could see Vanessa’s single raised eyebrow.

“You telling me you don’t wanna get caught?” she murmured, her voice low and making the atmosphere charged and thick with something that hadn’t been there before. Brooke squeezed her thighs together. This couldn’t turn into something else. She couldn’t let it.

“Well, that is the whole point of the game,” Brooke said, trying to inject as much level-headedness into her tone as she was able. To her dismay she watched as Vanessa’s eyes took on a dark twinkle.

“Oh, right, uh-huh. The game. Sure,” she smirked, Brooke only able to laugh in response because that way she wasn’t saying anything. This situation was fucked. It was so weird. Vanessa was flirting with her, unprompted. So what did this mean? That she still liked Brooke? That she wanted to be friends and was just playing? What did this mean for her and Monique? They couldn’t be that serious, then, if Vanessa was doing all this? Or maybe they’d fallen out and Vanessa wanted her to be jealous? But what was the point of making somebody jealous who wasn’t here? What if her and Monique were together and Vanessa was cheating? What if-

“AYYYYYY FUCKIN’ HOES! Yes! I’m shit-hot at this game, Jesus!” Silky threw the door open, screeching her head off and sending every thought that Brooke was overthinking into the stratosphere.

“Stop yellin’ bitch, and get in!” Vanessa laughed. As Silky squeezed into the ever-decreasing-in-space cupboard, Brooke felt her throat almost close up as Vanessa shuffled up against her to make more room, tilting her head up, locking eyes with Brooke and sending her a look that she couldn’t decipher before looking away and whispering to Silky.

They were eventually found by the other girls- namely because there was no space at all once Scarlet arrived so Plastique found half of the girls with one toe in the cupboard and the rest of their bodies outside of it. The game carried on, but Brooke’s head wasn’t properly in it. She would deliberately put in the bare minimum effort when she was looking for the girls because, really, she wouldn’t know what to do if she was stuck in another confined space with Vanessa. Why had it turned so weird before? All flirty and edged with something she couldn’t work out. It wasn’t right- Vanessa was meant to be mad at her, meant to hate her and never want to speak to her again and somehow they’d gone from civil, to nearly-friends, to eye-fucking each other in a boiler cupboard in the space of a month?

The encounter was still playing on Brooke’s mind as she got ready for dinner. The girls had all decided that they would “do a Love Island” (in the words of Akeria) and all get glammed up to sit in the living room and play games after they’d eaten. It felt funny to be putting on a dress, heels and fake lashes without the possibility of going out anywhere, but the methodical process of putting on her makeup was a welcome distraction from the swirling thoughts in Brooke’s head.

“Ayo,” came an unexpected voice, causing Brooke to flinch a little and drop the lipgloss she’d been applying moments before. Looking behind her in the mirror she saw it was just Yvie and Nina. Usually she’d have been happy to see them, but right now she was doing too much overthinking and couldn’t let on what had happened earlier between her and Vanessa. So Brooke just stuck on her best fake smile as she turned around to face them.

“Hey! You guys look so good,” she complimented them, Nina smiling and Yvie giving a little snort.

“Well I didn’t want to be accused of not making an effort for your birthday again,” she poked her tongue out at Brooke and tugged a little at the beads on the hem of her short gold dress.

“If you trip in those heels I hope you know that’s, like, instant paralysis,” Brooke commented, looking at the spikes of Yvie’s six inch stilettos. When the girl did glam, she did glam, Brooke had to give it to her.

“As if Yvie needs to be any taller than she already is,” Nina laughed playfully.

“Awh, she needs to be tall so she can look down on her smol bean uwu girlfriend,” Brooke teased, Nina continuing to giggle and Yvie giving an amused roll of her eyes.

“What’s up with you anyway, bitch? You’ve been, like, extra bitter around all the couples today. It’s supposed to be your birthday, cheer the fuck up,” Yvie gave her a little nudge with her foot. Brooke frowned. She didn’t think she had been being bitter, but maybe Yvie was right. Fuck, what had she even said today? Brooke hoped that Vanessa hadn’t noticed anything.

“No, that’s not true. I’m fine! Just…” Brooke sighed, the bingo-hall-style tombola spinning rapidly in her head to generate an excuse. “…exams are soon, you know, and I’ve not started revising yet-”

“Oh my God, bitch, they’re in May! This is March! Chill the hell out,” Yvie laughed, pulling Brooke up from her position on the floor by the long mirror in the corner of her room. “Let’s go eat pizza. If Monet and Plastique have worked out how to cook them in that 1920s horror oven.”

As Yvie excitedly strutted out of the room and Brooke made to join her, Nina reached out to squeeze her hand.

“You’re a crap liar, Brooke Lynn Hytes,” she hissed quietly, Brooke rolling her eyes and making to protest when Nina spoke again. “But I won’t push it. I just wish you’d open the fuck up more.”

Brooke felt guilty. “I just don’t…it’s something I don’t want to overthink, Nina. So the best way you can help is helping me stuff myself full of carbs then pouring a 24 pack of San Miguel down my throat.”

Nina nodded understandingly as they reached the top of the stairs, Brooke holding back a snort as she watched Yvie cling to the bannister for dear life as she descended. Nina gave her hand another squeeze, then dropped it. “I can do that. You look beautiful, by the way.”

Brooke shyly looked down at her short, black one-shoulder dress and smoothed it down. “Thanks, babe.”

Nina’s smile suddenly turned scheming. “And so does Vanessa.”

Before Brooke could protest, Nina was bounding down the stairs in her bright white Filas that she’d paired with her blue and white checked dress. It wasn’t as formal as Brooke’s or Yvie’s, but that was the beauty of having a glam night in a big house where it was just them- nobody could judge you for being over or underdressed.

As Brooke followed her flatmates into the kitchen, she was met with the sight of her friends all happy, chatting, and in their best outfits. Annoyed at herself, she found her eyes darting around to find Vanessa. She wanted to know why Nina had said what she’d said, wanted to know if she was just winding her up.

And then her eyes came to rest on the most gorgeous version of Vanessa she’d ever seen, and her anxiety dipped, did a loop, then spiked. They were both in black- some dumb coincidence that the earth had sent her way, no doubt- but Vanessa’s was shiny, a vinyl dress that clung to her as if it was made of latex and painfully highlighted every curve of her body. She’d paired it with red heels, which had straps that snaked their way up her calves and showcased her perfect skin. Her dark hair had been blow-dried out (probably by Akeria, Brooke guessed) and fell in perfect waves down her back and over her shoulders (had she fucking highlighted her collarbones?). Her makeup was, as usual, perfect, a dark shock of eyeshadow and an indecent red on her lips causing Brooke’s heart to race. The worst part, though, about the whole outfit, was the silver zip that ran from the top of the dress to the bottom, right in the middle at the front, and either Vanessa (or someone mucking about with her…probably Silky) had unzipped it just the tiniest amount. For about the hundredth time that month, Brooke cursed herself for breaking things off with Vanessa. It wasn’t just about her looks though, or her body, or how much she missed the sex. Their interaction in the cupboard made Brooke remember how funny Vanessa was, how much of an endearing goofball, how she was just a cheerful person whose only real wish in life was to be properly happy. And Brooke had hurt her, made her the exact opposite of that. Vanessa loved everything and everyone so deeply, was the most open of books, and was so unafraid of feeling. Meanwhile there was Brooke not even able to tell her own flatmates, the two girls that knew her best in the world, about her own feelings.

As she watched Vanessa’s eyes drift from Scarlet and Monet, who she’d been talking to, across the room to rest on her, Brooke felt her heart stop. Not giving a single thing away, Vanessa smiled, gave a little wave, and crossed the room to where Brooke stood.

“Hey!” she began, so confident and self-assured and making Brooke feel more like a trashbag than she already did. “Nice dress.”

“Thanks!” Brooke smiled, uncharacteristically flustered at the tiny compliment. “You look so beaud!”

Fuck. Brooke kicked herself for getting tongue tied, badly hoping Vanessa wouldn’t have noticed. As she watched a confused smile appear on her face, Brooke realised she’d have to explain herself. “I was going to say beautiful, then I changed it to good and they just sort of…mushed together.”

Brooke felt her face grow hot as Vanessa simply raised an eyebrow in a smirk. “I’ll take both. Beautiful and good.”

Just as Brooke was about to defend herself, Silky announced to the girls in her own Silky-esque way that the pizzas were ready, and, giving a cry of delight, Vanessa had dashed across the room and left Brooke forgotten about.

As they all ate, Brooke fought an internal battle. She had absolutely no right to feel sorry for herself, this mess was entirely of her own making. Besides, she had to put everything out of her head now; she had made her decision, Vanessa had moved on, and she had to let the whole thing drop. But despite all this, it didn’t stop her brain constantly pestering her with what-ifs.

It was still pestering her once they’d all finished their dinner and moved upstairs into the huge living room for drinks and games, so she was glad when Nina popped herself down beside her with two ice cold bottles of beer from the fridge.

“One for each hand,” she explained. Brooke burst out laughing. She fucking loved Nina so much.

“Where’s yours?”

“Monet’s making mojitos for me and her. I love having a girlfriend, it’s like a sexy butler that you get to have sex with and cuddle any time you want,” Nina mused wistfully, giving Brooke her second belly-laugh in the space of two minutes. As she composed herself, Monet came into the room with two huge tall glasses overflowing with crushed ice and garnished with lime and mint.

“Where the fuck did you get mint and limes?” Brooke asked, screwing her face up in confusion then scrambling to pull a slightly more attractive one as Vanessa came in flanked by Silky and Akeria.

“I brought them, bitch! Anyway what did I miss?”

“Nina called you a sexy butler,” Brooke said casually, sipping one of her two beers and smiling as she watched Nina grow flustered.

“Jesus Christ, I’m getting all the compliments today! First I was a Tesco Finest girlfriend, now I’m a sexy butler. You know how to treat a lady, Neens,” Monet teased, pulling her girlfriend in and smothering her with kisses on the cheek.

“Ugh, get that couple shit outta here,” Vanessa yelled from the other sofa, throwing a leftover crisp at them. Monet instantly snapped back.

“Uh, like you can talk, Vanj.”

“What the shit hell is that meant to mean?” Vanessa laughed, amused.

Akeria grew outraged as she turned around to face Vanessa, her long, straight hair swinging wildly as she flipped it over her shoulder. “NEED we remind you what you sent to the group chat last week?!”

Silky began yelling, mirroring the cries of woe and dismay that were circling through Brooke’s brain at being reminded that Monique was still very much in the picture. “NO we do NOT need reminded! I can’t go through that again, dear Jesus God…”

“Fuck babygirl, I need that mouth on me-” Akeria began reading dramatically from her screen, the girls cringing and laughing and every word feeling like a kick to Brooke’s gut as Vanessa, face bright red, wrestled with Akeria to get the phone out of her hands. “-I’m touching myself but you know it’s not the same- aw, V! Give it back!”

“I’m gonna eat this fuckin’ phone, Akeria Chanel Davenport, I swear,” Vanessa chided her furiously, holding the phone out of her reach then relenting, giving it back to her. Silky fanned herself dramatically, making the others laugh. As Brooke did her best fake laugh and joined in, she tried not to make eye contact with Vanessa’s embarrassed face.

“Aw, are we talking about the unfortunate dirty text incident?” Plastique’s voice came from the hall, everyone laughing again as she sat down in the armchair beside the fire. “Seriously, V, you should be a songwriter. I swear that whole thing could’ve been from a Kamille song or some shit-”

“Well, all sexts are a little bit cringey, aren’t they?” Nina offered kindly, attempting to cheer Vanjie up. In doing this, she only succeeded in earning herself an exasperated cry from Monet.

“V, do you wanna go out? I can’t stand this bitch any more, she just keeps insulting me.”

As everyone howled with laughter and Nina frantically smothered her girlfriend in kisses trying to get her back onside, Brooke sneaked a look at Vanessa. She was laughing, but her face was still a little red. Christ, she looked so cute. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

“Speaking of sex, I’m assuming Yvie and Scarlet went off to bang?” Plastique shrugged, everyone finally realising who was missing.

“Oh, fuck this! Save that shit for later!” Silky protested, Akeria laughing and whacking her.

“Hey, let them be happy! It’s my birthday so I’m sayin’ if they want to fuck, let ‘em. In the meantime I have an empty wine bottle and a room full of girls with secrets that need spilled,” Akeria announced. Plastique clapped excitedly, Silky cheered and Vanessa rolled her eyes.

“For Christ’s sake, Kiki, do we not already know all there is to know about each other?” she complained. Interesting. So Vanessa didn’t want to play truth or dare, a game she was usually always down for.

“Excuse the fuck outta me, we played that stupid tuna game earlier!”

“Sardines,” Brooke deadpanned, earning herself a laugh from the room.

“It was some type of fish, I got that much right.”

“How are you through a whole bottle of wine already?” Silky asked, impressed.

“Can I live? It’s my birthday! Now will you hoes stop pissing in my cereal and let’s play!” Akeria implored, setting the wine bottle down against the red carpet and spinning it so violently Brooke worried that it would smash on the marble grate. It slowed, turning round and round and finally resting right back at where Akeria leant down from the sofa. She let out a giggle. “Oops. Guess it’s me.”

“Keeks, truth or dare!” Plastique asked excitedly. Akeria tilted her head, deep in thought.

“Hmm. I ain’t drunk enough for dares yet, so let’s go truth.”

There was a beat of silence as everyone racked their brains to think of something. Monet was first with an idea.

“Fuck, marry, kill: Silk, Vanj or…uh…”

“Asia,” Vanessa said simply, sipping some coke and spirit concoction through a straw as Silky let out a screech. Brooke was confused. She met her eyes with Nina’s, who looked equally baffled.

“Wait, who’s Asia?” Nina asked. Akeria, to her credit, looked composed. To be fair, Brooke had hardly ever seen her look anything but.

“She’s a friend from my course. We did a paired project together an’ she came over to the flat to work on it the other week,” Vanessa shrugged. “Her an’ Kiki seemed to hit it off.”

“I don’t have a fuckin’ crush on the girl, Jesus. Don’t make it weird,” Akeria rolled her eyes, blinking slowly. If Brooke squinted she might’ve spotted a flush to Akeria’s face, but perhaps that came from the glow of the fire.

Monet muttered under her breath to Brooke and Nina as the three flatmates bickered away. “Is Akeria gay?”

Brooke blew out a bunch of air. “Fuck, I don’t even know who’s what anymore.”

“She’s never classed herself as straight,” Nina elaborated cautiously. “She talks about getting dicked down by guys a lot. Then again, it’s really only Silky that does that and Keeks just joins in.”

“Silk and Vanj know something we don’t,” Brooke reasoned, watching as the two girls laughed and Akeria sat, poised and smirking at them indulgently as if they were kids.

“Right, enough! ‘Keria, fuck marry kill: Vanjie, Silk or Asia, then,” Monet shrugged, sipping her mojito.

Akeria flipped some hair over her shoulder and tilted her head to the sky thoughtfully. “I honestly can’t decide who I’d rather kill, Silk or Vanj.”

“Oh, so you’re gonna fuck or marry Asia, correct?” Vanessa quipped, a little fire igniting in Brooke’s heart as she watched a wicked smile spread across her scheming face.

“No, I don’t know her well enough to have any strong feelings towards her either way. You and Silk, however…” Akeria raised her eyebrows long-sufferingly, coaxing a laugh out of the other girls. “Uhh, right, marry Asia, or whatever. Kill Silky.”

“Bitch! I’ll kill you for real,” Silky objected, pummeling Akeria’s arm with a cushion.

“Fuck Vanj because she likes girls anyway and if she’s going down on me it means she’s not talking with that fuckin’ gritter-truck voice of hers,” Akeria shrugged as she concluded, the room cheering and Vanessa doing a little celebratory bow. As she flipped her head up she caught Brooke’s eye, giving her a little wink. Brooke crossed her legs and tried not to think about Vanessa going down on anyone. Least of all her.

“Aight!” Akeria said, indicating to everyone that her turn was well and truly over. “We move.”

The bottle was spun once more, Brooke taking a long drink out of her bottle and draining it. She needed to be tipsier than this. Everyone else seemed a little more drunk than she was, apart from Vanessa who she noted was sipping her drink sparingly. Brooke shook her head a little, trying to stop bringing her focus to Vanessa every five minutes. She’d taken her heels off and tucked her legs up underneath her on the sofa, and her thighs looked good for it.

“Plastique, truth or dare!”

Plastique tucked her hair behind her ears. “Uhh, dare.”

Brooke knew what to do for this one. Plastique had taken Ariel on a couple of dates, but the girls were emotionally stunted and neither of them had properly articulated their feelings to the other yet. “Call Ariel and tell her how you feel about her. Properly.”

As the other girls “oooh"ed in appreciation, Plastique fixed Brooke with an unimpressed glare. "I’m not doing that.”

“Pussy,” Brooke shrugged, sipping her other beer. Vanessa let out a laugh from the other side of the room.

“Brooke Lynn’s telling someone else they’re a pussy for not being open about their feelings? Are we in the correct universe?"

As the other girls gave a laugh that was only the slightest bit uncomfortable, Brooke rolled her eyes. "Okay, well at the very least send her a heartfelt text.”

“Why are you pushing this so much, ma?” Plastique pouted as she relented and reached for her phone.

“Because I’m bored of sitting in lectures hearing you moan about how you can’t tell her how you feel because it would make it weird or how you don’t want to come across too intense!"

"We all had to listen to you pine after Vanjie for two and a half years but we never forced you into admitting anything,” Plastique shrugged, the room erupting into shrieks. Brooke gave a choke of a laugh, wanting the ground to open up and swallow her. She knew her face was bright red without having to look in a mirror and, as much as her brain was imploring her not to, she found her eyes darting quickly to Vanessa to catch a glimpse of her face.

Calm, smiling tight-lipped and smug. As if she’d won something.

“No, but you did start a sweepstake about us so get off the high horse, thanks!” Brooke sing-songed back, the slight hint of irritation to her voice letting Plastique know she was to drop it. Us. The word felt weird in Brooke’s mouth, it hadn’t been used in so long. Two and a half years. Had she really liked Vanessa for that long before everything had happened between them? Brooke had actually thrown away two and a half years of feelings for the sake of one feeling of indecision, a feeling that maybe they shouldn’t have been a they any more?

For Christ’s sake don’t look at Vanessa.

“Fine. I’ve put tonight’s really fun but I miss you, I always miss you when you’re not with me, hope you know how much I care about you. That heartfelt enough for you bitches?” Plastique muttered, embarrassed. Nina let out an “aaw”, Akeria made a sick noise.

“Acceptable,” Brooke shrugged, sipping on her beer again. Suddenly, a cheer went up from Akeria, Vanessa and Silky who could see who was coming through the living room door first. Yvie and Scarlet were walking close, holding a glass of red wine each and wearing matching poker faces.

“Oh, here they are! Nice of you to finally join us!” Nina cheered, Scarlet giving a small smile and smoothing her dress down, sitting beside Yvie on the last remaining couch.

“All the best people are fashionably late!” she shrugged. Yvie gave a snort and swept some hair over her shoulder to cover her neck. Brooke saw the action and jumped on it.

“Nice neckwear.”

Yvie turned only slightly red. “Thanks. Gucci.”

“Hear that? Yvie’s girlfriend is Gucci. Not Tesco Finest. Gucci,” Monet nudged Nina, setting another laugh off amongst the girls.

“We’re playing truth or dare,” Brooke explained to the two girls, as Plastique gave the glass bottle a bit of a pathetic spin.

“Vanjie!”

Vanessa shook her head. “Nah that spin was shit, it don’t count.”

“Like hell it don’t! Truth or dare, bitch?” Silky all but interrogated her. Vanessa thought about it for a moment, then decided.

“Truth.”

Brooke’ heart hammered in her chest. She hoped to God they wouldn’t ask Vanessa anything about her, anything about them.

“What’s going on with you and Monique, Vanjie?” Monet asked dramatically, Akeria giving a cry of delight and thumping her hands against her thighs.

Great.

As the room broke out into eager laughter, Vanessa just smiled.

“Well, Monique and I are good friends, and…we get on well. We both been, y'know, unlucky in love a lil’, so…” Vanessa trailed off, the room giving little chokes of anticipation and Brooke’s stomach twisting. “…if it’s one in the morning and one of us is maybe still up…y'know…”

Monet gave a tiny squeal through her teeth. Brooke wanted to wedge herself in between the sofa cushions and not emerge again til May of next year.

“Y'know, Monique’s very confident, very sure of herself, an’ that's…y'know, it’s attractive…” Vanessa trailed off, running her tongue over her teeth. Brooke knew that face, remembered the time when that face used to get directed at her before they’d fall into bed together, frantic kisses planted along collarbones and clothes discarded over the uneven floorboards of Vanessa’s room.

“But what’s actually going on? You’ve said so much but not actually said anything,” Yvie let out an unimpressed laugh. Vanessa composed herself and sat up straight, taking a rare sip of her drink.

“Well, we get on well. She’s a good person. And we’re friends,” Vanessa smiled coyly, causing the girls to laugh uproariously.

“Okay, okay, we all see it! We all get it!” Monet laughed, the knife twisting in Brooke’s stomach. Could it have been more obvious that they were obviously having each other in every type of position imaginable with any chance they got, or was it just Brooke being paranoid? She thought back to what Monet had said in the car earlier and concluded that, occasional hits of the bong aside, she was not being paranoid by any stretch of the imagination.

The game rolled along. Nina was made to do something vague and embarrassing with Monet that Brooke forgot quickly (or perhaps blocked out), Scarlet was forced to admit (rather proudly, Brooke thought) that her and Yvie had quickly fucked upstairs in the time they’d been away, and a few other of the girls did a couple of bland truths. As much as the bottle spun and spun, it never seemed to point Brooke’s way. Brooke was glad. She didn’t want to admit or say anything, and she also didn’t want to do anything remotely risky. However, when the bottle landed on Vanessa a second time, Brooke began to reconsider her thought process.

“Dare,” Vanessa smiled, a glint of danger in her eye flashing quickly as she darted her eyes quickly to Brooke.

Brooke tried not to look at Nina as she spoke. “Vanjie. Kiss the hottest girl in the room.”

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Plastique whispered quietly. It seemed as if the whole room held its breath. Brooke didn’t know if she was grateful to Nina for the setup or whether she wanted to descend into the earth’s core. She knew Vanessa had answered this question before with this group of girls, she knew that Vanessa thought the answer was her. But that was before everything had changed. Brooke felt her pulse race as Vanessa looked to the ceiling, deep in thought.

Slowly, she turned her gaze to Yvie and Scarlet.

“Yvie,” she began, a small sinking feeling lodging itself in Brooke’s chest. “Can I kiss your girlfriend?”

Yvie smiled at Scarlet proudly, happy for the compliment. “Dare’s a dare. Bring her back.”

“Scarlet, can I get a lil’ smooch?” Vanessa laughed, Scarlet laughing back and motioning for her to sit beside them on the sofa.

“C'mere, friend,” she laughed easily, Vanessa crossing the room and joining them. Brooke remembered when Vanessa had kissed Scarlet before- in the nightclub, before they were together and before Yvie and Scarlet were together. She remembered how it made her feel- a little irritated and sad all in one. Looking back, she realised it was plain and simple jealousy, and she knew her feelings weren’t going to change this time.

Quickly, Vanessa leaned in and met Scarlet’s lips, kissing her gently but slowly, her hand resting on Scarlet’s hip easily. It could only have been about three seconds long, but each one seemed to tick by agonisingly slowly, and Brooke hoped she wasn’t showing any of her fucked-up emotions on her face. As the two girls pulled away and the others whooped and whistled, Scarlet made a face.

“Bitch, all I tasted there was pepperoni. That was the least sexy kiss I’ve ever had.”

“You loved it, hoe!” Vanessa laughed, retreating back to her seat. Desperate to look at anything but Vanessa’s face, Brooke watched Yvie and Scarlet. Yvie had the satisfied grin of a mafia mob boss as Scarlet whispered something in her ear, then smiled seductively, kissing her once, twice, three times, red lipstick meeting purple.

“Well if I wasn’t bi before, I sure as hell am now,” Plastique fanned herself.

“We are the cornerstone of Plastique’s sexual identity. That’s a fucking compliment!” Scarlet cheered, Yvie laughing and wrapping her arms around her.

“Nah, you and Yvie are my parents. The Mums of the group,” Plastique explained.

“Fuck off, we’re not the Mums!” Yvie laughed, outraged. “Nina and Monet are literally right there!”

“Hey! That’s not fair!” Nina cried, outraged at the perceived injustice.

“Yeah, don’t lump me in with this dork!” Monet yelled, laughing with the other girls as Nina swatted her on the arm.

“Right! Spin, Vanj,” Yvie ordered, the girl spinning the bottle round obediently. Brooke watched as the top of the bottle whizzed by her once, twice, three times, past Yvie, Scarlet, the Antigua Road girls, slowed down as it reached Plastique, edged past Monet and Nina and then came to rest on Brooke.

“All RIGHT! About time this bitch spilt some tea,” Silky clapped in delight.

“Brooke,” Akeria said with the threat level of an MI5 employee. “Truth or dare?”

Brooke paused. Her go-to was usually a truth, however there was no way she was going for that this time, not while she was still a concrete mixer of feelings for Vanessa and not while there was a room full of people wanting to know exactly what was going on with them. She shrugged. “Dare.”

“Okay-” Akeria tailed off, making to stop and think. A practically evil smile spread across her face as realisation dawned on her. “Same dare. Kiss the hottest person in the room. Ten seconds.”

Silky let out a scream, growing so excitable on the sofa that Vanessa was almost sent through the ceiling. Scarlet whispered something to Yvie on the sofa, both of the girls looking at Brooke intently. Plastique shouted over something to Akeria that Brooke couldn’t hear. All she could focus on was how Vanessa had grabbed Silky and was laughing, but somewhat nervously. Her face had gone bright red. Brooke bit her lip. She thought back to their flirting in the cupboard earlier, how they were almost back to square one again, the weird bid Vanessa had made to make Brooke jealous. She could always kiss Yvie or Nina, take the easy way out. But the more she looked at Vanessa, the more drawn she became to her until before she knew what she was doing, Brooke had stood up from her place on the carpet and taken one, two, three steps to sit on the couch and look Vanessa in the eyes.

Brooke could hear everyone in the room screaming, and she knew Silky had run out of the room shouting incoherently, but all she seemed to hear was her blood roaring in her ears as Vanessa leaned in. Before she knew it, Brooke’s hand was resting on Vanessa’s bare thigh and they were kissing each other, slow and deep and lazy and in a way that Brooke never wanted to end. She felt Vanessa’s tongue licking at hers gently and immediately felt a throb of heat between her legs as she remembered 3ams spent between her sheets and Vanessa’s head buried between her thighs.

Christ, this was a bad idea, this was a bad idea-

“ZERO! And y’all can officially cut that shit out,” Brooke suddenly felt herself being wrenched away from Vanessa, Akeria’s voice cutting through her hazy thoughts and bringing her back down to earth with a bump.  

“Well, I feel like on that note,” Monet clapped her hands together decisively. “I’m away out to drink in the hot tub. Anyone else?”

One by one the girls agreed, dashing out of the room excitedly, and it was obvious to Brooke that everyone would be talking about what had just happened. Vanessa had run off quickly, her hand in Silky’s as the two dashed upstairs to get their swimwear on. The only girl that was left in the room as Brooke made to do the same was Akeria. She frowned at Brooke as they both left the room, a warning in her eyes which sent a chill down Brooke’s spine. Trying to ignore it, Brooke dashed upstairs, changed into her pink bikini and then ran outside to join the others. They wouldn’t talk about her and Vanessa’s kiss if she was there, so the less time she was away the better. Brooke grabbed a third beer from the fridge on her way out to the garden, and as she stepped outside she noticed how the moon already hung huge and bright in the sky, how the grass already had a shine of cold wet on it, and how everything looked almost a little bit magic. Joining the others and sitting between Yvie and Plastique, she tried to ignore Vanessa sitting opposite her in a black bikini that looked equally sinful as the outfit she’d been wearing before. Luckily the rest of the girls had no further desire to play drinking games, and talk instead turned to movies. Brooke didn’t join in. She couldn’t- too much was swirling around her mind, namely how good the kiss had felt. Scarlet had probably lied to make Yvie laugh- Vanessa had tasted like sugary coke, and the all too familiar scent of her perfume was still inexplicably clinging to Brooke. It had been weird to kiss after months of no contact at all. It had been a bad decision. Brooke had done yet another wrong thing.

So why did it feel somehow correct?

“Right!” Akeria said after a while, almost toppling over as she stood up. “I think I’m gettin’ a touch of the hypothermias. Who’s comin’ inside to watch Sister Act?”

“Bitch! That’s like, my favourite movie. Hell yes,” Monet sprang up, knocking Nina off her lap and into the middle of the hot tub. The girls erupted in a laugh, Brooke almost dropping her beer into the water. One by one, they all filed out of the water. Brooke was the last one left. Admittedly she didn’t want to leave- she was now tipsy enough to not feel the cold, and she could have lain back and stared at the white light of the full moon in the inky sky forever. Just as she was about to follow the others, she noticed that the second-to-last girl out of the hot tub was Vanessa. Brooke swallowed thickly, trying her best not to stare at how the small droplets of water clung to her thick thighs or how her tiny bikini barely covered her firm ass, or how her slick, wet hair cascaded down her back. Almost as if she could read Brooke’s mind, Vanessa slowly, tortuously turned around. She had a little wicked smile on her face, the kind she always used to wear when she flirted with Brooke. It made Brooke cross her legs and squeeze her thighs together.

“You got a good enough view from there?” she asked, playfulness coating her words as she spread both her arms out to lean against the back of the hot tub.

This was bad. This was not good. Brooke couldn’t flirt back. It would only lead to another really horrendous, catastrophic decision. Her mind was hot-wiring, and to her dismay she couldn’t come up with any form of quick-witted comeback. Noticing how long it was taking her to reply, Vanessa gave a throaty laugh.

“Hmm. I’ll take that as a yes, then,” she purred, crossing the water and sitting down close next to Brooke. Brooke tried her best not to choke as she took a sip from the bottle in her hand.

“Thought you were going to watch Sister Act?” she asked, trying to sound casual but cringing at how nervous she sounded as the words left her mouth. Her blood pressure dialled up a notch as Vanessa laced her fingers together, placed her hands on Brooke’s bare shoulder, then rested her head against her fingers.  

“I don’t know. Think I’d rather see what’s so special about this view you love so much,” Vanessa murmured softly, Brooke not missing the way she rushed out the word ‘love’ as if to distil any awkwardness. She didn’t need to worry, though, because right now all Brooke could focus on was how good Vanessa looked in that black bikini, and how her red lipstick still clung to her plump lips as if it had just been applied, and her beautiful dark gaze from under her fake lashes.

“Hmm. It’s a pretty good view. Pretty beautiful,” Brooke found herself whispering, eliciting a sparkle from Vanessa’s eyes. Fuck. Shit. She shouldn’t have said that, it just seemed to have happened, but with Vanessa sitting pressed up so close to her how else could she have possibly reacted? There was a small silence in which Vanessa gave a small giggle, looking down at the constantly popping bubbles. The jet stream pummeled Brooke’s back to bits.

“What’s funny?” she smiled cautiously. Vanessa looked at her, something nostalgic on her face.

“Your pickup lines are still cringey as fuck,” she smirked, Brooke rolling her eyes a little. She had to steer this conversation back to normality. Whatever the fuck normality was as far as her and Vanessa were concerned.

“That wasn’t a pickup line. If I was trying to pick you up, you’d know about it.”

“Oh, I know about it, baby. Don’ worry,” Vanessa hit back instantly, Brooke taking the pet name like a fatal shot. Brooke knew that Vanessa knew what that word did to her in the right context with the right tone. Fuck. Bad idea, bad idea. She was determined not to lose whatever game this was. She would not do anything stupid. She would not ruin the tiny, small beginnings of this foundation of their friendship that they were gradually re-building. She would stand up and go inside and watch Whoopi fucking Goldberg dance about in a fucking habit and all would be right with the world again.

“Two and a half years, huh? You had it bad, bitch, I never knew I had that kind of effect on you,” Vanessa laughed suddenly, Brooke trying not to blush as she remembered Plastique’s words from earlier.

“Not that you’re letting it go to your head,” Brooke shrugged, taking a sip.

Vanessa giggled again. Brooke wished she wouldn’t. “Never.”

“Good compliment for you, I guess.”

“Better than beaud,” Vanessa smirked, snorting a laugh as Brooke tipped her head back and cringed. As she quietly stopped laughing, Vanessa shrugged lightly. “An’ I mean, nice to know I’m the hottest girl in the room too.”

Brooke let out a small sigh at having to confront her decision. “I mean just because we’re not dating any more doesn’t mean it’s not objectively true. By Western beauty standards you probably are the hottest girl in the room.”

Vanessa laughed again. “Western beauty standards, my God. I’m not even white, you dumb bitch.”

“Yeah, but…you’ve got this gorgeous skin, and all your shiny hair. And your eyes that go all twinkly when you’re happy,” Brooke explained. Where was all this coming from? “And you have perfect white teeth, and the best smile. I feel like you light up the whole room when you laugh.”

Brooke’s heart gave a twinge as Vanessa’s face broke out into a smile, tilting her face to the side a little inquisitively. Brooke gave a little cough, aware of all the compliments she’d given her. “And you have a really good figure as well, so, yeah.”

“Oh, obviously. Well, we all know how much you like that,” Vanessa smirked cheekily, Brooke suddenly snapping her neck round to face her properly.

“What?”

“Liked that. Like, liked. Whatever. We’re friends now, we can laugh about it,” Vanessa shrugged, the words coming out of her mouth confirming their status at once relieving Brooke and putting her on edge. They were back to being friends. This was what Brooke wanted, right? Vanessa still had the little cheeky grin on her face as she spoke again. “Friends who still kiss each other, apparently.”

“Well, you kissed Scarlet,” Brooke said, trying to make it as nonchalant as possible. Judging by Vanessa’s smug reaction, she hadn’t succeeded.

“You seem pressed.”

“Not pressed! Just saying,” Brooke tried to protest gently but felt she came on way too heavy.

“Mhm. There’s just one problem about all this, though…” Vanessa murmured, her tone charged with something that immediately made the hairs on Brooke’s arm stand on end, giving her goosebumps.

And then, with one fluid movement, Vanessa moved to straddle her.

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

Brooke’s heart almost flatlined as Vanessa spoke, her face still wearing the tiniest cocky smile that Brooke so badly wanted to kiss off of her. “It’s kinda hard to try an’ be friends with you when I know what you look like with no clothes on.”

Brooke tried her best to keep her voice level. “Well, it’s also kind of hard to try and be friends with you when you’re flirting with me.”

“It’s also hard to be friends with you when I know what your kinks are…” Vanessa brought her arms around Brooke’s neck and barely concealed a smile as she bucked her hips ever so slightly. “…Mami.”

Brooke felt the tiniest hiss escape her lips, glad it wasn’t the fuck that had immediately popped into her head.

“It’s kind of hard to be friends with you when you’re riding my thigh…or when you’re coming on to me like this,” Brooke replied, keeping one hand firmly on the side of the hot tub and the other wrapped around the glass bottle in her hand so tight she thought it would smash.

“Coming on to you?” Vanessa suddenly tipped her head back and laughed, Brooke immediately realising what she’d said. “That can be arranged, you want face, tongue or fingers?”

“Fuck’s sake, Vanessa,” Brooke laughed softly, letting one of her hands drop down under the water and rest against Vanessa’s thigh. As Brooke’s thumb rubbed at her skin softly, she tried to reason with herself. Just because she was stroking Vanessa’s skin, and had her on top of her, and was basically talking dirty to her, didn’t mean that anything was actually going to happen.

“I know you miss me, Brooke,” Vanessa said, her tone matter-of-fact as she straightened up a little in Brooke’s lap, Brooke eyeing the way her breasts were pushed up.

Brooke had to think carefully about her response. She knew she’d hurt Vanessa, so she had to keep things light. “I mean, it kind of looks like you miss me, baby.”

Oh fuck, that pet name was a mistake. Vanessa’s smile was sultry as she pushed one of her hands into Brooke’s hair. “Me? Nah, I’m just doin’ this because it’s fun. Monique’s treatin’ me very well.”

Jesus fucking Christ, Vanessa knew how to hit Brooke where it hurt. Brooke pursed her lips. She wanted to fight dirty, she would give as good as she got. “And that’s why you’re cheating on her?”

Vanessa burst out laughing. “Oh, bitch, please! Me and her aren’t exclusive! We ain’t even a thing! She vents to me about her ex, I vent to her about you, and then we fuck away our frustrations!”

A part of Brooke’s heart soared up into the black sky like a helium balloon. She didn’t think she’d shown her relief on her face until Vanessa gave a laugh. “So. You ain’t denied it.”

“Denied what?”

“That you miss me,” she shrugged, giving a little look down at Brooke’s hands on her thighs. Brooke couldn’t pinpoint when she’d brought the other one down under the water but apparently she had done. Her throat was dry as she considered her response. Before she could get there, Vanessa threw her mind into chaos as she brought her hands back behind her head, fidgeted for a moment, then suddenly threw her bikini top across the decking. As Brooke’s gaze flicked down to Vanessa’s full breasts, the other girl brought one finger up and tilted her chin up to face her. The heat between Brooke’s legs was unbearable, and she felt her paper-thin resolve rapidly melting away. Vanessa smirked. “You wanna kiss me so bad right now, don’t you? Like you kissed me earlier. You can’t even stay away.“

Vanessa seemed to edge closer to Brooke, although they were already so close that seemed an impossible feat. Brooke raised an eyebrow. “See, I feel like if Monique fucked you as good as you say she does, you wouldn’t be in my lap right now.”

Vanessa blinked slowly, mockingly. “Oh, baby. You don’t want to know the things I let her do to me.”

Brooke bristled. The tension between them and Vanessa’s teasing was getting her riled. “You’re right, I don’t.”

“Aww. You jealous, baby?” Vanessa pouted. This was going to drive Brooke insane. Her mind constantly swung between this being a bad idea and a good idea, and she had no idea which it would settle on.

Brooke locked eyes with Vanessa, the other girl’s gaze a challenge. “No.”

“You sure? You seemed jealous when I kissed Scarlet earlier, I saw your face.”

“I don’t get jealous,” Brooke repeated, holding her gaze with Vanessa. Their faces weren’t too close but their bodies were, and Brooke felt as if she was a ticking time bomb.

“So you ain’t jealous of Monique?” Vanessa murmured inquisitively. Brooke shook her head, now unable to tear her gaze away from her lips which had felt so perfect against her own earlier. “You ain’t jealous of the fact she gets to ride my face and get my pretty lil’ tongue working her clit? You ain’t jealous of the fact that it’s her name I’m crying out when I cum on her fingers? You ain’t-”

Frustrated, tense, and out of willpower, Brooke let out a low growl as she finally brought her hands up to Vanessa’s jaw and crashed their lips together, kissing her wildly and deeply and running her hands over every inch of Vanessa’s skin she was able to touch. She didn’t even care that she’d proven Vanessa right, because she had missed this, missed her, missed the way they just seemed to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle and dear sweet fucking Jesus she’d been an idiot to give up this sex. Brooke whined needily as she felt Vanessa pull away, the other girl laughing against her lips.

“You don’t kiss like a girl who ain’t jealous,” Vanessa tutted, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Or one that don’t miss me.”

Brooke ran her hands up and down her back and pouted. “Shut up.”

“Hmm. That ain’t no way to talk to me if you’re planning on getting what you want, lil’ brat,” Vanessa raised her eyebrows, bringing one of her hands down to rub at Brooke’s hipbone. Brooke let out a whimper and bucked her hips. She needed Vanessa so badly, and her words were only making things worse. Or better.

“Fuck, please, Vanessa, shit,” Brooke hissed, not caring about how pathetic and needy she looked now as she brought one of her hands up and rubbed a thumb over one of Vanessa’s nipples. Brooke felt her clit throb as Vanessa gave a little hum of delight at the contact. Her fingers had only been there for a second before Vanessa grabbed her wrist and held it down under the water, the sudden force causing Brooke’s eyes to grow wide.

“You broke my fuckin’ heart an’ now you really think I’m gonna make it that easy for you?” she barked a laugh, a guilty twinge tugging at Brooke’s rapid heart. “Fuck that. I want to hear you beg me to fuck you. You’re gonna have to work for me, baby. Shit’s on my terms.”

“Fuck, Vanessa, I really don’t give a shit how desperate I sound,” Brooke sighed, the shock of the prospect of Vanessa changing her mind about all this lighting a fire in Brooke. “Please, please, please, please, baby, I’m sorry, I’ll do anything you want, just fucking touch me, please-”

Brooke cut herself off with her own moan as Vanessa ran a hand down her body and lightly pressed two fingers against her, rubbing gently and making Brooke want to sob.

“Good girl,” Vanessa purred, Brooke writhing underneath her and completely past the point of thinking about any of the consequences of any of this. “You miss me, don’t you?”

“Fuck, so much.”

“You been missin’ this?”

“Shit yes, so much.”

Vanessa’s eyes were dark as Brooke looked up at her. “Nobody’s gonna fuck you like me, are they?”

Brooke’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head, thinking that at this point if Vanessa asked her to get married she probably would’ve booked the damn venue. “No, only you, baby, fuck.”

“Mm, such a good girl,” Vanessa smirked, Brooke’s clit giving a spasm as she thought now was really not the time to realise she had a praise kink. “I don’t know, though. You seemed pretty sure you wouldn’t miss me when you ended things.”

“I do miss you, 'Ness, I promise, I’m sorry, I’ll beg on my knees if you want me to, I don’t give a fuck, you’ve been driving me crazy all night…so fucking perfect, shit…"

"Mm…you would look so pretty on your knees,” Vanessa leaned in and murmured into Brooke’s ear, pressing the lightest little kiss to her neck and almost sending Brooke over the edge before anything had even happened yet.

“I’ll do whatever you want, baby, fuck, I want you to feel like you’re the most gorgeous fucking goddess in the world,” Brooke gasped as Vanessa brought her other hand down to touch herself, the sight of her working Brooke and herself into a frenzy the hottest thing she’d seen in months. Her mind short-circuited, and she struggled to know if anything she said made any sense. “Jesus Christ, Vanessa, please fuck me, I can’t take much more-"

Pride glinted in Vanessa��s eyes before she leaned in and kissed Brooke, hot and wet with her fingers still rubbing and teasing her through the material. Pulling away, she motioned to the decking around the hot tub. “Lie back then, baby.”

As Brooke almost drove her face into the decking in her haste to scramble out of the hot tub she ignored the little voice in the back of her head that told her everything about this was a bad idea, and instead focused on the one that screamed it was the best decision she’d made in months.s

[hollenka99]

The One Where Jackie Settles In

Summary: Chapter 3. Jackie gets used to life with Marvin.

Warnings: death mention, violence mention

@bupine @badlypostedeverything

In the minute it takes for Jackie's mind to wake up along with him, he becomes confused as to why his chest is in agony. More confusing than that, he appeared to be in the bedroom of someone's home. In a pile on a bean bag was a pre-arranged outfit for him to wear. Dressed, he ventures to the hallway. And things finally click. Right, he was living with Marvin now. Marvin, who happened to also be Cat. The past 24 hours had been quite eventful. He'd… rather forget it. He requests anything Marvin had on hand. If he was a superhero, surely he was no stranger to injury. Therefore, there must be something lying around to assist with pain management. To his relief, Marvin can indeed help him. In fact, he goes further and offers him whatever is required for his recovery. With the medical care over, Marvin invites his new roommate to help himself to mini Weetabix or bread. Jackie doesn't think he can manage more than a simple buttered slice of toast this morning. The Russian blue missing her front left leg observes them from her shelf. Marvin notices where Jackie's gaze is directed. "Indie's watching us eat, isn't she?" "Yep." Jackie chuckles. "Come face us, you little spy." Marvin turns around in his seat, wearing a mock scowl. "Caoimhe was like that. I couldn't eat anything at home without her staring at me until I gave her a bit of my dinner." Marvin is facing the table again. "Caoimhe?" "Oh um... she was my dog before- before all this." "Is she with friends or something?" "I guess. Them or my dad. It all happened so quickly." Suddenly, stories relating to pets fill the space between toast and soggy cereal. Jackie learns of the time Indie somehow found herself stuck in the space between the television and the wall. Likewise, he tells his friend all about Caoimhe's misadventures as a puppy, including her habit of attempting to snack on his drumsticks. This in turn leads to Jackie confirming that yes, he was a drummer and guitar wasn't his preferred instrument. The two of them chat at the table until Marvin realises in a shock that it was already time for him to get ready for work. Running late slightly, he blurts out his apologises and suggests Jackie finds a DVD to watch while he's alone. Despite how abruptly it had ended, the morning had been an enjoyable one. Joel checks up on them a couple days after the incident with Anti. He raises the issue of Jackie not having any clothes of his own. The Canadian offers to accompany him around the shops, making the point it would be a proper chance to get to know each other. With the promise expenses shouldn't influence decisions, they leave. They manage to collect a variety of tops and jeans. Apparently ripped jeans were fashionable now. Fashion had certainly changed in the past three decades. He and Joel are still able to find items that were close enough to what he used to know. The shops they visit are lacking in leather jackets but Joel is able to offer a black denim one as a compromise. With socks and underwear also in their possession, it was time to move on from clothes shopping. Almost. Doing so as discreetly as he can, Joel mutters quietly to Jackie. "I can see you eyeing the women's section. Why don't you have a look?" "No, it's weird. Trust me, men were not made to wear feminine clothing." "Listen, I have two dads and a diminished sense of gendered clothing. I am the last person who will give a damn about a guy wearing a dress. You have a similar build to my dad so..." Joel approaches the racks, flicking through them. Periodically, he scrutinises Jackie to likely determine if the dress was right for him. The most Jackie lets his new friend buy for him is a skirt that reached his knees. It seems to please him that Jackie allowed him to get even that. He supposes it was a nice garment. And a kind gesture too. With the clothes stuffed into the back seat of Joel's car, the duo return to explore the Tesco Metro. The older of the two triggers a whole conversation about Easter celebrations. Joel talks about the Beaches Easter parade in Toronto while Jackie grumbles about Easter Sunday masses. They both agree there's no such thing as too many Easter eggs. "Hey, you should get a notebook or something. It might help if you have somewhere to put your thoughts about the 21st century." "What, you want me to write you an essay about modern life when I've known nothing else? I'm 20, I was born in... 1999." "It's April so if you want to turn 21 this year, it's 1998." "Wh- 'if I want to turn 21 this year'? Can I please get through the rest of this month without having my life being threatened?" Joel groans. "No, dumbass, it was advice." He leans close to Jackie's ear. "I know about Village Square and how you were born in 1966. I'm sure you want to talk about this further but I don't have anywhere I can really take you to speak privately." "You're psychic?" "No." Joel places his bags down, resigning himself to tackle this subject while standing outside a WHSmiths. "Sure, I can create portals but I'm no mind reader." "Then how-?" "I already told you, this is not a conversation we should have in public." "What about your apartment? You don't live with Marvin and you told me you weren't living on the streets anymore." "In Canada. And I doubt it would be healthy to send you somewhere over 3500 miles away when you sustained a major injury a few days ago. Listen, how about you text- A phone, we need to get you a phone too." "Right." Mobile phones are unrecognisable. How the hell did technology advance to the point where this small slab of glass and alloy was capable of receiving calls? Not to mention the plethora of things it also offered. And controlled by your fingers on top of it all off. Joel reassures him he can take it slow with this technological leap. The main reason he bought it was for communication and it could remain so if he wanted. Jackie supposes the shiny blue back was pretty. It wasn't hard, growing accustomed to life with Marvin. His roommate would sleep in after a long night of patrolling then spend most afternoons working a shift at the local garden centre. In addition to that, Marvin would also don his Magnificent Cat costume twice a week so he could help those still on the streets. Jackie usually sat those out, feeling awkward about his new situation. Marvin was typically the one to cook. As such, Jackie felt it necessary the head of the kitchen should be aware he couldn't have mustard. If the hero could try getting into the habit of checking ingredients and being wary of anything labelled 'spices', he'd be much obliged. Marvin does his best to follow these instructions. It seemed to be working fine as there was yet to be any allergic reactions. At some point during that second week, Marvin invited Jackie to the kitchen. His plan was to bake his favourite cake, one containing chocolate and strawberries. Their joint efforts go well for a short while. Then Jackie gave himself an edible moustache upon stealing the whipped cream from the fridge. Marvin confiscated the can, only to follow suite. By the time the cake was ready to exit the oven, the duo were laughing, in need of a whipped cream restock and a change of clothes. It is after returning from a shift that Marvin introduces Jackie to an unusual pizza crust arrangement. "Pizza Hut have the best stuffed crust though. This is only the best Morrisons has to offer, as far as I've tried it." Marvin continues on, rambling about how, while studying at university, he made it his goal to find the best frozen pizza supermarkets within walking distance of his accommodation had to offer. As such, he had designated this specific pizza as his favourite. Something about the other varieties being too liquidy or whatever. He has no interest in this subject. Pizza was pizza. But... Marvin seemed very engrossed in imparting his findings to him and who was Jackie to stop him? "Oh, tell you who would go with us to Pizza Hut, my friends Henrik and Jameson. Maybe Chase too but he tends to be a rather busy guy. You should meet them. I think you might get on with those guys." Marvin makes a note as a reminder to invite his friends for a meal out. For the time being, that is the end of that. Before long, the Easter weekend arrives and with it, a chance for Jackie to finally meet Sean. It was clear Marvin looked up to his big brother from the way he spoke about him. As far as Jackie was aware, Sean was 9 years older, a video game developer and a reluctant cook, hence why the two roommates were taking care of the big meal. He can certainly see the resemblance between the brothers. Their features were very similar. The main difference between them was hair. While Marvin was clean shaven with waves descending to his shoulders, Sean had stubble and short straight hair. It was pleasant to see them have such a good relationship, complete with teasing and half-serious threats of burning the other if he kept pushing it. Jackie found Sean likeable. The whole meal, they kept themselves occupied with chatter. He learns Sean enjoyed painting in his spare time. In fact, he was creating the backgrounds for his company's new game. It is at this point that Marvin lets him know there was still a blue smudge, albeit slightly faded, on the side of his left hand. The afternoon is a good one but like all things, it comes to an end. Before too long, they are bidding Sean farewell and exchanging comments about the day's success. Night, the stranger found, was the best cover. Some dark clothes to reduce visibility and a hood to better conceal his identity from CCTV cameras. With some silent fiddling, the door grants him entry. He knows precisely which room he has to visit first. His most recent escapee is completely oblivious to the intruder. He could ensure Jackie never woke up with a single touch. But Marvin would discover the truth were that to happen. That method was too obvious. Besides, this wasn't what he was here for. The envelope slips out of his bag. In the morning, Jackie will find the surprise on his bedside table. That done, he moves on to the other bedroom. The hero is still awake, albeit engrossed by his phone's screen. Only now does Anti allow his presence to be sensed. Marvin reacts accordingly by throwing the covers to the side and defensively leaping to his feet. A palm is raised to prevent any provocative action before it could be carried out. The message is delivered. "Back off, Marvin. You should know by now what I'm like when frustrated. Let the next one slide and you won't hear from me for a good while." He looks like a three year old persevering with their poorly thought out argument. He's certainly a 24 year old man in his pyjamas rather than an on duty superhero fully in costume. "I... I can't." "One life for several. Aren't you supposed to be on the better side of the morality spectrum? Surely this is a easy choice." Anti doesn't wait for any potential response from Marvin. The serial killer leaves the way he came. The sun rises and with it, Jackie. Marvin was already awake, cradling an abandoned coffee. He gives his friend little acknowledgement as he enters the kitchen. The piece of paper Jackie is holding, however, gains his attention. Especially when he asks the dreaded question. "Uh, Marv? Do you know anything about this?" It's only a portion of an A4 sheet. A pair of scissors has been used perhaps a third of the way down. The contents is limited to a single typed line which reads: We both know he's no doctor. Maybe you should ask why he hasn't taken you to be treated by professionals. Jackie starts talking as soon as he's sure Marvin has read the message. "I- Listen, I will admit I had wondered why you never sent me to a hospital. But I guess I brushed it off as a secret identity thing. So why didn't-?" "You're new to this city, right?" "Yes." "So you don't know Anti like I do. He likes making a point of finishing what he started. I don't know how the hell he does it. But if he's the one who put you in hospital, the only place you're going after that is the morgue. So forgive me for wanting you still around. And yeah, it's true, I am not a doctor. However, books on human biology and the internet have served me fine. I've had way more injuries than Sean is aware of. Yet here I am, walking around despite the occupational hazards my hobby is littered with." "Marvin-" "If you want me to apologise for prioritising you staying alive, then I'm afraid you're out of luck." The aggression radiating from him remains for several seconds. It dissipates into something softer. "But I am sorry for putting the decision solely in my hands. If that means anything." Jackie lets the air settle between them before answering. "Alright. Listen, I am still upset-" "Fine, then I'll leave for a while." Marvin begins making his way to the shoe pile by the door. "What I was going to say was I'm still upset but I'd rather move on and let bygones be bygones for now. Just promise you won't do something that risky again." He stops completely to face Jackie. "Yes, of course. I promise." "Thank you. And, as a sidenote, if you're going to run from disagreements, at least fix that mess you call your hair. It's horrendous." The sleep deprived hero scoffs, a tiny smile creeping into existence. "Got it."

[lockdownuk]

Lockdown Diary Part 6

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 151: Great hour or so last night around Foggy’s. When I got home I watched World War Z and some stand up by Nate Bargatze and drank and smoked loads. Today, I got up just before 2pm and felt soooo unmotivated. I was going to have a day of doing fuck all but had a change of heart around 7pm so did my stair climb then walked for over an hour (7km) and got home at 9:30pm!

Day 152: Typing on day 153. I popped up and saw Foggy last night. One of the reasons was I wanted to take him a beer to say thanks for looking over my mitigation statement for my impending court hearing for speeding. He liked what i wrote but has given me some key amendments. Basically free solictor advice and I am very grateful. While there he hit me with the news that Ham’s sister, Preeya, has died (last Friday 14th August) from Covid 19. To say i was gobsmacked is an understatement. She was 49. The family could only talk to her over a loud speaker and had to say good bye that way as her life support was swithced off. Fucking hell, it’s terrible. And, what makes it worse, is how complacent I have become about the disease while it’s causing so much tragedy. As I said to Foggy, it’s important to renew our efforts in combatting this disease so that Preeya’s death at least means we learn. I also feel guilty for not realising that many people have passed like this - just because I (sort of) knew Preeya doesn’t mean I shouldn’t feel any less sorry for the dozens of people dying and many more affected everyday. My emotions are in turmoil and yet I’m not directly affected.

Day 153: Typing this on day 154. Gone midday before I woke up. Beers in the evening and watched Den of Thieves. Great film.

Day 154: Woke up at 2:37 pm FFS. Just done a walk and I feel like shit (booze induced).

Day 155: Went to bed at about 4am yesterday but was up at 10am today so, usual Monday correction of sleep patterns. Two long walks today plus a little housekeeping on photos, sharing to the Oundle chatter group, so, quite constructive. Hoir chat with dad plus a chat with a recruitment agemt about a helpdesk manager role in Peterborough.

Day 156: Typing on Day 157. I saw Karen sitting with TTP (and two others I couldn’t make out) at the T&K on my second walk. Why does that piss me off so much? I am being like Jack in Midnight Run. I need to let go.

I am also getting wound up with Tumblr - I can only make entries on this diary blog on the PC - when I try on the Android or Apple apps, they pop up with ‘post too long’. Trying getting info from Tumblr’s online help on that though - fucking not happening. I think I might move this to a Google Blog...it’s not like anyone else reads it. I’m not sure I’d want that - it’s far more a private diary now rather than the cute ‘blog’ idea it started out as. It is now a disciplinary exercise more than anything.

Day 158: Feeling less sorry for myself now. It’s 10pm and I am having a midweek beer as I wait for tea to cook.

Day 159: Decided I will split this diary into 30 day sections to appease Tumblr. My second walk today was at 8pm ‘cos it was pissing down from about 4pm ‘til 7:30pm...very dark and so wet. Home by 9.15pm.

Day 160: I went shopping in Corby (Tesco and Asda) - I only really went so I could get blue eggs. £75 on booze! I was going up to Fog’s tonight but at around 6pm it started to piss down. So, I shall drink at home. It’s 9.15pm, I think it’s going to get messy.

Day 161: Not sure when I wnet to bed last night but I didn’t get up until 2pm. Nice long walk (9km) in the rain!

Banners and Sam G went to London to have a few with Andy P. I’m a little flabbergasted, it’s like there’s no Covid19 all a sudden.

Day 162: Bank holiday Sunday so I am having a beer or two. Tea’s cooking, gonna watch The Accountant on BBC1 at 10.30pm. Today I got up at 1.55pm and managed to have a shower and be downstairs to see the start of the Belgian GP. Hamilton won, pretty easily. I then did my stair climb and a 9.8km (6 mile) walk.

Last night I watched a rather quirky, entertaining comic horror film called Ready or Not and then Ricky Gervais - Fame. That’s the tour I saw him live after seeing Henman’s final tennis match at the Davis Cup at Wimbledon. Bloody funny - the recording could even be the show Karen and I were at. Bed at around 5am, hence not egtting up ‘til way past midday!

Day 163: Bank Holiday Monday, just like a Sunday. I am making this entry on my phone as I'm now able to due to breaking up the diary blog into 30 day sections.

Molly's Game, a film I've tried to rewatch several times but it's never been free, is on BBC2 tonight. I'm recording it right now but actually watching Seinfeld from the start on All4. The first couple of episodes are a bit ropey if truth be told. Luckily, I know it improves.

Day 164: Managed to get hold of Michelle via her daughter Daisy to place a nice big order for C. Just as well ‘cos Tim’s ignoring me!

Rang and spoke with Barry Haddon today to check he’s OK.

Day 165: Picked up C from Michelle’s in Yarwell. While there I was mauled by her over friendly Staffordshirebull terrier getting bit on the thigh. Twice in six months I’ve been bitten by dogs.

Karen WhatsApp’d to see if I’d seen Miley Cyrus on the Live Lounge!

Day 166: Forgot to say that yesterday, I also bumped into and chatted with Pete Gilder. We mainly talked about (getting caught) speeding.

Today I did over 22k steps and I am fucked. 

I replied to an email from Shirley at work HR. After the furloughed staff call on Thursday, which I didn’t attend, they want us to cash in some (more) hoilday, which is fine by me, but I have also asked if we are any clearer as to what happens on 1st October, when the rentention scheme ends. I await her reply.

Day 167: Another 20k stpes today. Just 24k needed to have completed 1m steps since the start of July.

It’s Friday, about 9.45pm. I’m going to watch Molly’s Game and have a few beers.

Day 168: Got up at just before 2pm. It’s now 10.15pm and I am just having my first beer, Today was a lazyish day, completed 12k steps.

Day 169: Completed the 1m steps with 24 days to spare. Woohoo. Now, I am unsure whether to reduce the walking I have got so used to doing? I think I might keep up an average of 11k steps a day which is all I would have needed to accomplish to reack 1m in 3 months.

I’m pleased I did it today since I :went to bed a nearly 5am this morning!

Day 170: Actually typing this on day 171. Feels weird having done the 1m steps, almost like I’ve nothing to do. However, I am of course going to keep walking but not quite as hard/much. I did feel liek I was walking myself into the ground all in the name of finishiong the task ASAP. So, today I only had one walk, did 11,5k.

Yesterday’s Italian GP was a cracker. Hamilton had a penalty and ikt ended up with Gasly winning. Full of incident including a red flag so the race ‘restarted’.

I completely forgot ot make this entry on the correct day?

Day 171: I have decided to press on with the walking - not quite so urgently as before - to see what I can achieve steps-wise in 3 months. So, today, an unusually hot day for September, I did 18k steps plus cleaned the bathroom, hoovered my room and stairs and hallway. I am fucked!

Today I have bought a set of smart scales and a new pair of Skechers. The Skechers were almost free (£69 reduced to £30ish which I had in Paypal) and the scales were £20. Still, I shouldn’t. I don’t know what will happen at the end of October when the CJRS ends plus I don’t know what punsihment will be dished out, any day now, for the speeding offence! Fuck it!

Day 172: An eventful day. Boris has restricted gatherings to no more than 6 people and will use ‘Covid Marshalls’ to police this. It’s causing a stir amongst the online community. I have set up accounts with Gurushots and Picfair to showcase my snaps. The latter offers the opportunity to sell them. I watched Anchorman 2. It was pretty good. I also postd on the Oundle chatter group about walking in front of a car the other day - the driver, a yound lady, was enchanting the way she just smiled and let me pass - I used it as an opportunity to ask about George Higgins saving a child from near death at the hands of a lorry, the post about which has disappeared.

Day 173: Lots have seen my post re: my car incident but the bait hasn’t been taken.

Sarah Haines made a nice comment about my photo posts on the Oundle Chatter group also saying that she doesn’t know me but, it turns out she does. She is James Watson’s ex from when I first moved to Oundle so we caught up on Messenger.

Rachel Harris posted a meme slating Boris about the fact we were all encouraged to go out and about (inclding the Eat Out to Help Out scheme) and now we are being sent back to ‘our room’. Some of the comments continue to slate the government. I couldn’t resist commenting that, had the royal ‘we’ maintined social distancing and remembered there’s a fucking pandemic, perhaps we might not be under impending severe lockdown, as it now looks like. I also mentioned photos I have seen (one posted by Rach herslf) whereby you could be mistaken for thinking that there isn’t a pandemic. I have finished the comment with a line about we can only blame ourselves, not the hapless government! I wonder what reaction that will get!

Day 174: Scales were delivered today. If they are accurate I am a little over 11 stones, from 12st 7lbs before lockdown. Can’t quite believe it. I have a yearly diabetic review with Lynne in October so i can check then. If the scales are wrong, I’ll be livid on 2 scores!

Friday night beers as I type. Been looking forward to them since last Saturday!

Day 175: I do not trust the new scales. I get a different reading each time I step on them and by 10-12 lbs. Fucking things. Boots arrived today - they’re going back as well. Footy season started today. Posh lost away to Acrrington Stanley. “Who are they?”

Day 176: The GP was reflagged again today (a new track at Tuscany. A red flag two races on the trot is most unusual. Hamilton won.

Day 177: I managed to get the scales working. I’m pretty much the same weight I was prior to ld (about 12.5 st). This leads me to believe that if I wasn’t doing all the walking I am, I would be as fat as a fucking house. On that note, Google Fit is playing up. It loses the step and heart point count for each walk (although the workouts retain the route map info) Wtf?

I think K and TTP might be a thing from a post I saw on FB whereby some chap (who I don’t know) commented on TTP’s post that it was nice to see him and K. Kinda gutted if it is true but I shouldn’t be. That’s all I will say on here.

Day 178: Jim contacted me today to let me know he’s leaving RCI. He was quite secretive about why and what’s going on but, there it is. He went on to say that HR will be contacting me shortly to call me back from furlough. Sueanne is taking over as team leader but that’s temporary. and that they will most likely promote from within. I struggling to think what it would be like if Mark was boss! The way RCI are and how disjointed it is with Jim as boss, I shan’t take it as read until HR do contact me. Also, I dunno how I feel about it...I have got so used to not working. But, and it’s a big but, I doubt I’ll have a job after the retention scheme finishes so, if this does pan out, it’s good. I’ll be back to job hunting while in a job, as per before the pandemic.

Also, I received an email letting me know the punishment for my speeding offence was 6 points and a £233 fine, plus costs (£90) and victim support (£34), £357 in total. More than I expected. But, no ban, so I’ll suck it up. 

Day 179: Having midweek beers. I'm in that sort of mood.

Day 180: I WhatsApp’d Jim to let him know HR haven’t contacted me. His garbled response went from telling to give them a shout and let them know he is leaving, to which I asked ‘don’t they know?’, he then said hold fire (on Sueanne’s instruction) and she has said for me to sit tight and then, finally, that HR will contact me! Fuck knows what’s going on! I had a diabetic review with Lynne today. When you go to the surgery you have to let in, which I was by Keren. It was nice to see and chat with her. She is back with Ronnie which was news to me. Then Lynne came and got me. It was nice to see and chat with her also. She weighed me and I’m 12st 3lb. Apparently in Jan last year I was over 13st!

[aoibaratraveler]

UK Road Trip Week 5

Day 29:

Had a really easy morning and took our time leaving because we really wanted to savour having a bed and a room a bit longer before hitting the road again. Don’t get me wrong, we weren’t dreading getting back onto the road to continue our adventure, we just wanted to make sure we were fully charged up and ready to go. Before setting off we made sure to play with the host’s dogs some more. We stopped at Lidl for some snacks…that we really shouldn’t have bought in retrospect, we’ve been eating a lot of junk on this trip. We set off to Stirling from there. During the drive I noticed that I had a mosquito bite on my face, I had been so successful so far in avoiding those damn things but somehow it got my face and now I have a horribly itchy spot that looks like a pimple, it’s pretty annoying but oh well. We only really just quickly drove through Stirling which I thought wasn’t so bad, it was really crowded and raining, after all, we were able to get a good look at Stirling castle which was interesting. It was a very odd old looking castle. The walls were that of a regular castle but the actual building looks like an old manor of some sort. We drove straight to Loch Lomond after Stirling as per what we had originally planned but when we got there we realized that was kind of senseless and that it would make more sense to drive straight up to in Inverness so as to do the North Coast 500 road tour for the next 7 days and then just explore Loch Lomond on our way back down through Scotland. We drove through a pretty spectacular motorway on the A9 road to get up to Inverness which I recommend to anyone that wants to do a road tour of Scotland; such glorious sights, it was a stunning mountain and was very reminiscent of my home province of British Columbia, Canada. We were even lucky enough to see a rainbow going over the mountains. It made me wish that we could live in Scotland so that we could do this sort of drive on the regular. We chose to stop in a retail business park just outside of Inverness to relax and stretch our legs after having just done a 3.5-hour drive straight. Scotland really does seem much more laid back about things in general in comparison to England. For instance, if you’re in literally any place other than a big city in Scotland then pretty much every car park is free which is amazing when you want to just leave the car and go explore. We thought for sure that the car park at Loch Lomond National Park would cost money but nope, free. Another awesome thing about Scotland is that you can pitch up your tent almost anywhere in the wilderness as long as there are no cows or sheep around and not have to pay a thing. It can only be for a period of 2 or 3 days but that works just great for us since we won’t be in any one place for too long. There was a cinema in the retail business park showing any movie for £4.99 so since it was still only 8 and the movies were so cheap, we thought why not. We saw Once Upon A Time in Hollywood, which I recommend. Afterward, we drove to a lay by out near Loch Ness and parked up and pitched up with the rain coming down horribly.

Day 30:

Woke up to the bf wiping the windows, when you sleep in a car, a lot of condensation forms on the windows if you’ve had them closed all night. I had actually slept in till 9 which is unusual for having slept in the car. We had breakfast and organized the car and I decided to read the last couple of chapters of Harry Potter book 5 when suddenly the car made an alarming beeeeeep! The car battery had gone flat. We tried to flag a few cars down to help us jump-start the battery but then resigned to calling AA. The bf has a membership with them anyway but we figured it would take them a while to get there. While we waited for them to come we went down to the lakeside/lochside of Loch Ness to explore for a bit. It’s quite sad that Scotland has opened its country for people to camp anywhere they like and yet people still litter everywhere. On the lakeside/lochside we saw several littered disposable barbecues, a shopping bag, and a bucket. Well, we didn’t finish with the AA until about 1:30. From Loch Ness, we drove into Inverness to the tourist info centre to see if we could get a map of some sort. Once that was dealt with we began the drive of the North coast 500 but counter-clockwise, just because we felt that suited us more. There are so many small-town/villages along the route, it’s quite funny how small they are - we were able to drive-through some, in and out, in under a minute. We stopped at Dingwall and had some instant noodles for a late lunch. Through the course of this trip, I’ve gotten the bf to actually enjoy and crave instant noodles and afternoon tea (of course he still doesn’t like to drink tea). He used to always avoid noodles in a soup because he’s not much of a soup person but will now eat them with me so I feel quite happy about that. From Dingwall, we drove through Loch Fleet National nature reserve, past the gorgeous, tropical-looking beach of Embo by Carn Laith, a remnant of the iron age, and finally arrived in Helmsdale where we would pitch up at a high off lay by with a beautiful view of the sea for the night. We didn’t cover as much road as I thought we would but I feel pretty content with our 1st day of route 500 ….

Day 31:

Have you ever woken up randomly, early in the morning but then realized you were still really tired so you went back to sleep and told yourself that whatever you want to do can wait until later? That’s me every day recently but what’s unfortunate this time was when I woke up randomly I saw the sunrise peeking out through the window. I thought “Oh how pretty…I’m just gonna sleep in a bit more and watch it later”. Well, when I woke up later I realized what I had done and felt like crap especially since it was the last time we were going to be on the east coast and in such an opportune spot for a little while. That’s fine, I’ll make it my mission to wake up in a good spot for the sunrise soon enough, mark my words. Anyway, today we managed to cover a lot of ground although I didn’t feel like we did. That’s because although it’s a beautiful drive there are not many points of interest for us to stop at on the east side of the NC500. We left Helmsdale and drove to just outside of Lybster to a place called “Hill O’Many Stanes”, which is a historical landmark. Many hundreds or thousands of years ago, it is not for certain why but maybe 30 to 50 stones the size of footballs were planted on a Hill and dotted around in a circle. There are a few theories why like they were possibly put there as memorials of the dead. I don’t know what it is about the UK and their historical landmarks surrounding stones. First, there was Stonehenge in England, and now this and I’m sure there’s another landmark coming up on this trip to do with stones being erected on the ground. Actually, now that I think about it, there is a place similar to Stonehenge on the Isle of Portland, but it certainly isn’t as heavily regarded and I’m not sure if it has a name. After admiring these stones for a bit, we then parked up down the hill and made some coffee. We then drove to the Castle of Old Wick just outside of Wick, where we saw the spectacular view of a cliffside and a horrifyingly scary view of how far the sea was below and then we walked around and imagined what it would have been like back then for people to have built a castle on the edge of a cliff. From there, we drove to Duncansby Head and John O’Groats, the most northern tip of mainland UK. This is also a very small town but because of what it is known as it was very crowded with tourists from all over. It was pretty cool though because we could see some of the Orkney islands from there and to be honest, it looked mostly like it is farmland, barely inhabited. After a few obligatory photos, we set off to somewhere in between John O’Groats and Dunnet Bay, where we parked up at a nearby Tesco and had instant noodles for lunch while listening to the Abroad in Japan podcast. We then checked out Dunnet Bay, we fooled around a bit there, skipped stones in the water and just had a good time. I love beaches, especially deserted ones, they’re relaxing and even better when there is the view of mountains in the background. This was probably 1 of 3 beaches that we stopped throughout the day just to explore and walk around. I found a really pretty shell at one of them too. I think the other beaches we stopped at were Strathy Bay and Torrisdale Bay. From there we drove without stopping too long to Durness, where we parked up and made a sort of spaghetti soup for dinner. The drive there was - you know I’ve been saying it a lot, so from now on when I talk about something, you just gotta assume it’s pretty freakin awesome! We drove around lush valleys and lochs, it felt more like we were somewhere in Iceland or something. I honestly thoroughly recommend this drive to anyone and everyone to do in the future. This part of Scotland actually reminded me a lot of Canada as well,l which makes sense because an info sign along the route said that Scotland was its own island for a while and joined up with Wales and England about 430 million years ago but before then it is thought to have been a broken-off bit of land from North America! That’s definitely something. I’ll never forget this drive and I only hope some of the footage I have taken has captured even 10% of its beauty.

Day 32:

Soon after waking up and driving somewhere to freshen up, the bf and I both seemed to be craving chocolate and we were in luck because there happened to be a popular albeit expensive chocolate cafe nearby called “Cocoa Mountain”. The bf and I both ordered a large hot chocolate that was simply delectable and probably the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had. We accompanied our drinks with two treats; a chocolate fudgy brownie and a cheese and spring onion tart that were also very good. Once we were done savouring that little treat, we went to the heavily populated with tourists Smoo Cave. We had visited caves in Wales but this cave was huge! It really had a mysterious vibe to it and even had a waterfall in it. It was very cool and well worth a visit again, I just wish there weren’t so many people. Apparently, on good weather, they do inner cave tours on a boat, but after so much rainfall, the waterfall and stream were too strong to venture further in. Later on, we drove to Oldshoremore beach. We stopped a lot along the way for photos though. The NC 500 is very scenic drive and I wouldn’t mind driving it again but next time it will be when we’re sure the weather will be good and if and when we have a camper van. All the beaches along the route were just so beautiful and I loved stopping at them. We walked for a bit along the water but I accidentally stepped too close and got my boots soaked. My Salomons are supposed to be waterproof but I put them in the washing machine once and I forgot why but that may have damaged the integrity of the waterproof material. Anyway, we went back to the car park to clean my boots and apply more waterproof spray and then made instant noodles for lunch. From there we drove to two more viewpoints called the Assynt and Drumbeg viewpoints. They were similar in that they both had a view of lochs, mountains, and the surrounding small islands, but the atmosphere at them was different from one another. We had overcast at one and sunny skies at the other so that could have been part of it, but it was also the quality of nature. One was more lush and green than the other but they were still just as breathtakingly sunning. My blog entries come out after I’ve posted photos of the places we’ve been to on Instagram, so please do give those a look. On the way to our final nature stop of the day, we chanced upon a herd of Highland cows that were just gorgeous and there were two that were just pleasantly sitting right next to each other so I had to grab a photo of that. They were so lovely. Afterward, we drove to Clashnessie Falls which was a magnificently big waterfall, but because it had been raining in that area, the river leading up to it had overflowed its banks which made the path to it muddy and hard to walk in and since my boots were still drying I was walking in my sandals. We figured it was for the best to just admire it from afar, although it would have been an amazing shot up close. We ended the day by stopping in Ullapool where we would grab some reduced dinner from Tesco’s (wasn’t the best idea) and pitching up just outside of the town for the night.

Day 33:

Today we had a load of gorgeous and scenic stops and the weather was on our side for most of the day, yay! We started off our day by taking in the sights of the Loch Broom which the town of Ullapool was situated next to. It was a great way to start the day because you had the sun shining brightly and all these gorgeous mountains in the background. From Ullapool, we began the penultimate leg of the route. This route will probably take us 6 days although online they say it should take you anywhere from 7 to 10 days if you really want to explore and do a bunch of hikes and stay longer in some places. Some people even think doing it in 12 to 14 days is better, if you have the money and time to do all the islands off the mainland as optional detours of the route, but we neither have the time money nor the transport (this route would have been way better with a camper van or RV, but we only decided to do it last minute while doing our main road trip. As I said before, we had many stops today and took so many photos on our way to Kyle of Lochalsh, where we would be ending today’s leg. I can say for certain that this portion of the route is absolutely the most scenic but I probably also feel that way because it was sunny most of the day, albeit cold (too cold for August if you ask me, but we are up north). First, we stopped at the Corrieshalloch Gorge and national nature reserve. There was a very cool suspension bridge there, but the gorge was indeed pretty far down so my fear of heights was activated a bit. There we also had a view of lovely, big waterfalls called the Falls of Measach. I’m surprised at the number of tourist areas that are free, well actually pretty much all of the spots along this route have been free whereas in Vancouver you can be sure that you’d be charged an arm and a leg to enter them. After seeing the falls, we made some coffee and then set off. I felt like every couple of minutes we were stopping and getting out of the car. To be honest I felt a twinge of annoyance about it but couldn’t really complain because there were just that many gorgeous and breathtaking sights to behold whether it was the lochs or the mountains. I don’t know what to tell you. If you haven’t got time to do the whole 5 to 7 days of the route than just spare one day to drive the stretch from Ullapool the Kyle of Lochalsh and you won’t regret it. Especially on a sunny day. Of course, you’d need to get up to a Ullapool first… but seriously we stopped so many times that I’m not even sure where exactly we stopped because the whole stretch made our jaws drop. I mean the days leading up to today we also saw a lot of amazing sights on the NC500 so I’m not selling those short by any means but I guess even though the rain did give those views a cool atmosphere, I didn’t enjoy them as much I enjoyed the views today because we had the luck of having the sun on our side. After the gorge, the plan was to stop at Ardessie Falls, Mellon Udrigle, Fire more beach, Gairloch then Redpoint and then Sheildag and Torridon and finally end off in Kyle of Lochalsh because those were the tour suggestions that I found online but for the most part we made our own stops along the route and it was awesome. I mean we did drive-through most of them. We made a detour through Torridon village, then stopped at a viewpoint in Shieldag and had lunch but finally, after a very eventful day at so many sites we got dinner in Kyle of Lochalsh and found a lay by to pitch up for the night.

Day 34:

Today didn’t really go as planned. Overall this trip has had a bunch of highlights and I’m so thankful to the BF to have been able to do this. I’m also thankful to his friend T, and my friend V, for being able to make this trip great. This trip isn’t over yet with 10 more days to go, but it’s just a shame that ever since we left the South coast of England our days have been heavily influenced by the rain. Today is one of those days. It still turned out alright though and the bf and I had a laugh. So originally the plan was for us to take a detour from the NC500 and spend the day in the Isle of Skye. I had been really looking forward to this as I had heard many good things. But from the moment we woke up the winds were so strong and the sky was heavy with overcast. Very foreboding. Actually, it made me wish I was back in Cambridge, at home, enjoying the sunny weather. Nevertheless, we drove across the long bridge from Kyle of Lochalsh to the Isle of Skye and what awaited us there were torrential rain and heavy winds. Our first stop was supposed to be a place called “The Storr”. Which is a 674 m tall landslip with a rocky face on one side and a grassy slope on the other, it was supposed to be a very dramatic sight, but because of the low cloud and rain, you couldn’t see a thing. Didn’t stop a bunch of tourists from getting out and trying to take photos, but we carried on since we didn’t think it seemed worth getting wet for. After that, we drove by another tourist stop that I hadn’t accounted for, at a waterfall called Kealt Falls. We thought about carrying on but the bf though the weather might add some drama to the falls. Since I was the only one with boots on and what I thought was a decent rain jacket (it’s old and worn), I went off on my own to see if it was worth both of us getting out for. Big mistake. The rain and winds were cruel and it felt like I was being blown away. The view was pretty but not really worth getting thoroughly soaked for. I went back to the car and I was shivering and had a headache from the cold winds. I am glad I tried though because now I know that I don’t want to be out in that weather. We spent the rest of the day in the car which wasn’t so great for our legs. They were both swollen and achy by the end of it. At least I learned from this experience that I need a new rain jacket and should definitely buy some waterproof trousers. We didn’t stop anywhere else in Skye unfortunately so I would like to think I would go back one day. We drove to the northernmost part of the island and then all the way back down to Kyle of Lochalsh while enjoying the views of the dramatic weather over the dramatic mountains. On the drive back down to Kyle, we saw two beautifully pronounced rainbows that were really quite the sight. Once back, we got Chinese takeaway and then agreed to leave early and drive to the next village of Strathcarron and stay there for the night. Except that didn’t happen. The bf and I were so into our conversation about tons of random crap that I hadn’t been paying attention to the map and he missed the turnoff on the road. We were so deep in conversation and that an hour had passed and neither of us noticed! The drive was only supposed to take 30 minutes, I thought it felt like a long 30 minutes….xD we weren’t even at the end of the NC 500 route anymore. He had taken a southbound road that would still get us back to Inverness, but on a completely different route. It so wasn’t so bad though, we were essentially driving through Woodland forests that took us along the other side of Loch Ness that we were originally on before we started the NC500 route. This side had all the Loch Ness monster tourist stuff; I was wondering where they all were! Eventually, we got back to the same retail business park we had begun this mini-adventure, and then the bf got out to stretch his legs while I stayed inside to keep warm and write. By the time we found a layby we were both exhausted and ready to call it a day.

Day 35:

Had a day off from traveling today. We both needed it and our legs were swollen from spending all day the day before sitting in the car so we spent some time aimlessly walking through Inverness and playing pokemon go.

[quercussp]

Family matters

Rating: T

Word count: 3k

Summary: Being around the Lesters always causes mixed feelings in Dan.

Authors note: This is a gift for @secretlizard, who’s bravery is only matched by her kindness.

Thank you to @templeofshame for beta reading and dealing with my bullshit.

Warnings: mentions of homophobia

[read on ao3]

First thing on the list of things to do after they come back from the tour is sleep. Then have undisturbed proper sex in their bed. And then pack up to go visit Phil’s parents, because Phil missed them terribly and can’t wait another day without Kath’s baking. (Neither can Dan, but he’ll go ahead and pretend that only Phil is desperate for a warm motherly hug).

The flight to Isle of Man is short and uneventful, and feels like nothing after all the long overnight flights they’ve had over the last 5 months. Before Dan can even properly wake up they are in a car and then at the house and then he is being hugged tightly and his hair is being ruffled by Kath and Nigel gives him a warm handshake and then draws him in for a light hug.

***

Dinner is a loud and warm affair. It’s dark outside, but the kitchen is illuminated by a bright yellow light and the table is heavy under various dishes of Kath’s delicious cooking. Phil’s parents ask all sorts of questions about the tour and both Phil and Dan interrupt each other, eager to tell all the funny stories that happened to them.

At some point in the night, when most of the food is eaten and everyone feels full and a bit tired, the conversation shifts to reminiscing of the time when Phil first started talking to Dan.

“Phil suddenly stopped telling us anything! He was so secretive about it at first, so we knew something was up,” says Kath, sipping her tea. “If he would have just behaved normally we probably wouldn’t have noticed anything, just assume he is busy with his YouTube stuff.”

“I remember when he first told us about you, we were so shocked,” chimes in Nigel. “On one hand we were glad it wasn’t drugs or something, but on the other… yeah, it was a different time then”.

Dan always tries to listen very carefully about Phil’s past. For one thing, it’s just interesting to hear other people talk about his partner, but also Phil isn’t very forthcoming about that period in his life. He doesn’t like to talk about sad things.

As though on queue, Phil says “dad, it’s fine,” with a wide (and maybe a tiny bit forced) smile and quickly shifts the conversation. Before long, Kath is telling them about how someone came up to her while she was in London for the tour and recognized her and how it was a great night, and Nigel starts a discussion with Phil about the profit margins of the merch store, and Dan can once again relax and just be enveloped in the warmness of the room and company.

***

After some amazing pie and going through all the photos of Australia and New Zealand Dan and Phil have on their phones, they both go upstairs to the guest bedroom. Phil tells Dan about their plans to go hiking tomorrow as they brush their teeth and change into their night clothes, and Dan hums in agreement distractedly. Phil stays up scrolling through his phone for a half hour and then turns of the bedside light, kisses Dan on the forehead and goes to sleep, but Dan just lies there staring at the dark ceiling, listening to the quiet noises of the house.

Being around the Lesters always causes mixed feelings in Dan. On one hand, he sees this incredibly supportive and loving family, bursting with love for Phil and Dan. But on the other hand, he knows that it wasn’t always the same. Phil might think that all his wounds have healed, but Dan has felt those scars and he knows they still hurt once in a while. He remembers how difficult it was for Phil to stop being a little bit freaked out by the fact that Dan paints his nails and sometimes tries on makeup at home. How long it took Phil to stop calling one of Dan’s sweaters a “women’s sweater”. He remembers how Phil would choose things that wouldn’t be “too girly” for his clothes and accessories, and how he refused to cry in front of Dan, afraid of being seen as weak. He also knows how desperately Phil doesn’t want to be “that gay YouTuber”, and how much time it took him to also start therapy, even with all of his support for Dan to do it.

But even knowing all that, Dan can’t help but love the Lesters even more for it. Because they changed and grew and evolved, and all of that to support their son. And that they regret ever hurting him, and do their best to stop doing it. That they love Dan as their own, even though at first they saw him as a threat and as Phil’s downfall. They took the time to understand what their son does for a living, and who he has decided to spend his life with. Even the fact that they cared enough in the first place to be upset.

That’s the part that probably makes Dan the happiest, but also hurts quite a bit.

Dan’s parents are great. They love him. They accept him for who he is.

At least that’s what Dan keeps saying. But it’s hard to not notice the differences. How his mom only recently expressed any interest in watching his videos. How his dad still sometimes brings up Dan failing at university as something that hurt his chances at being successful. How they just nod when he talks about therapy and his depression, without any particular interest.

He is fine with it most of the time, but hearing Phil talk with his parents about his coming out, he can’t help but feel a little bit deprived. In his family they didn’t talk about it. Ever. He knows that at this point his parents know that Phil is “it” for Dan, but they never asked. Dan’s mom once caught him cuddling with Phil when he was visiting, and she never said anything, just walked out. He knows she told his dad, but he also never discussed it with anyone. When Dan moved in with Phil, they would still refer to him as “your friend”. He never got to explicitly tell them that he is bisexual.

It was just something that was there. Like a lot of things in the Howell household, everyone knew it was there, but no one talked about it. And on one hand, that was good. They didn’t really change the way they treated Dan, they seemed to be alright with Phil being their child’s partner, but it also stung a bit that he never got to come out and be proud. They never told him that they support him and that they are here for him. That seeming indifference sometimes hurt even more than outright rejection.

And sometimes… sometimes he can’t help but assume that they, or at least his dad, is a little disappointed in his choice of partner.

The partner that grunts and shifts in his sleep, pulling the covers and exposing Dan’s feet.

Dan knows he is being a bit unfair. His mom has actually expressed a lot of desire to become closer over the years. She calls and texts and visits. She went to the show and she even read TABINOF. She always asks about Phil and sends him holiday cards. After the divorce with his dad, she really tries her best to be a supportive parent to both him and his brother.

His dad on the other hand is quite distant. And it’s not like Dan particularly wants to be closer. The divorce was painful for all of them, and at the time it seems much easier to just keep his distance.

Dan and his dad exchange the occasional birthday and Christmas text, and Dan sends his dad an Amazon gift card every year for Fathers’ Day, but other than that they almost never talk. Dan sent a ticket to the Interactive Introverts show to his dad but never heard back. Which is fine. It’s all fine. He didn’t really want him there in the first place, or so he tells himself.

But sometimes, especially while lying in bed with Phil in the guest room of his in-laws’ house, full of a delicious home cooked meal, listening to his partner’s steady breathing, he can’t help but remember things that hurt him. That he has wanted to put behind him but for some reason can’t. The thoughts keep swirling around in Dan’s brain and no matter how much he tries to push them away they just become louder and louder. Suddenly, he feels like he has to tell someone or he will explode.

“Phil! Phil, wake up” he whispers.

He feels Phil turn around in the bed and grunt.

“Phil! Phiiiil…” he continues to whisper, this time moving closer to him and shaking him slightly.

“Dan, you ok?” Phil asks sleepily. He rubs his eyes trying to focus on Dan’s face and he looks worried and disoriented.

“I’m ok, I just need to tell you something.”

To Phil’s credit, he immediately sits up in bed and does his best to gather his wits. This isn’t the first time this has happened. Dan’s brain often goes through the process of mulling over a thought or a memory until he just has to let it out and telling Phil is the way he has been doing it in the past. This is how Dan first told Phil he wants to go to therapy (interrupting Phil’s morning shower) or how he told him that he once wet the bed during a sleepover at his girlfriend’s house and even though she was really nice about it, the memory still haunts him (he shared that at 5 am before a meeting with their agent) or that he has decided to unfollow Kanye on twitter (he actually called Phil to tell him that while he was at Tesco).

“I’m listening,” mutters Phil.

Dan feels tears sting his eyes. He can’t really explain why this is such a big deal to him, but every time he remembers this episode, he feels as though he's still an unsure, sad, bullied teenager who doesn’t know how to live with himself and the world around him.

“My father once said that he hopes at least Adrian has a family some day.”

He remembers his father saying this to him over dinner, 3 years ago, as a funny comment to the conversation they were having. Something about how young people nowadays spend more time being single than ever before. He was already living with Phil for 4 years at that point. They co-owned a company and were registered as domestic partners and paid taxes together. They had already discussed the possibility of adopting a child eventually. They were a family. And his father’s words dismissed all of that. At the time, he just stayed silent, telling himself that it’s not a big deal. That his father just made a joke (which his entire family chuckled at, which also adds to the sting). And that it doesn’t matter at all.

Except it did. It mattered then and it matters now, and even though no one probably remembers this, Dan does. And when he sees Phil’s parents being so supportive and inclusive towards him, the pain of his father not thinking that Phil, the love of his life, his partner in every single thing, is family, becomes too much.

Phil stays silent, as though waiting for Dan to elaborate. But Dan can’t bring himself to say anything. Because what do you say? My dad said an offhand comment and I’m still thinking about it years later? He knows it’s irrational, and that if it had bothered him he should have said it then. He should have said: “Dad, I’m bisexual, I’m in a relationship with a man and I will be for the foreseeable future. We are a family.”

But he didn’t. And it hurts.

“He was wrong, Dan.” says Phil, and even though he is sleepy, there is conviction in his voice. “He was wrong to say that.”

“He’s a good dad,” Dan replies, although it comes out more of like a question rather than a statement. The tears are now falling down his cheeks.

“He is. But he was wrong. He shouldn’t have said that.”

Dan let out a deep sob and before he knows it he is pressed against Phil’s chest, soaking his shirt with tears and snot. His mind immediately starts producing excuses for his parents. He didn’t talk to them enough, they were busy, they had their problems, but Phil keeps whispering to him “He was wrong, babe. He was,” and Dan keeps crying and the pain he has tried to keep suppressed comes out in violent waves. They were wrong. They hurt Dan. Even if they didn’t want to.

It takes some time, but eventually there are no more tears and Dan just feels hollow. And sorry for himself. Not even for his current self, because his current self is wrapped in the arms of a wonderful man, in a room that belongs to two wonderful people who love him like a son. He feels sorry for his younger self. The one that didn’t have all of this. The one that was emotional and sensitive and had nowhere to express that, the one who was kicked around and beaten up because he looked gay and felt like he had no one to turn to. The one who desperately wanted his parent’s approval but felt like he failed at everything.

As always after episodes like this, they end up talking about it for hours. When Dan feels calmer he tells Phil that it still hurts him that he never got to tell his parents about their relationship. Or about his career. That it was always just there, but they never asked. Phil brings up all the same points that Dan has talked about. How maybe they wanted to make him feel like it’s not a big deal, or that they were afraid of assuming. But in the end, Phil asks if Dan would like to call his father and talk about it.

By the time they finish talking Dan is exhausted and falls asleep curled up against Phil’s side. It’s uncomfortable for both of them, but neither of them wants to move away. They will deal with sore muscles later.

***

When they get back to London Phil immediately goes to take a shower. He spilled his coffee over his pants on the flight, complained about a building headache and is quite in the sour mood by the end of the trip. He leaves Dan to start unpacking the suitcases and starting the piles of laundry left over from the tour and this trip.

While waiting for the washing machine to finish its cycle, Dan gets out his phone and looks through his draft messages again.

hi dad, just got back from tour, do you want to meet

i love phil dad we are buying a

i’m bisexual and i

i know you dont like my job but

dad phil and i are getting married next year would

you dont remember this but you once said i will never hav

He is tempted to send them. All of them. Either one of them. He has been agonizing about it for days.

When he was saying goodbye to the Lesters he just randomly blurted “I love your son” to Kath who raised an eyebrow and told him “I know, love, thank you for doing that, he is quite the pain” and somehow the could-be-awkward-slash-sentimental moment turned into Phil sulking at his mum and proclaiming that he “is a delight!” and everyone laughing.

He keeps thinking about what he wants to say to his dad. But also what he wants to hear back. Does he want him to apologize? But for what? He doesn’t even know. Does he want him to just say “ok” and move on? If nothing else, that seems even more painful.

He ends up typing up hey dad, i’m back in london want to meet up sometime? by the time Phil leaves the shower, wrapped up in three towels and still managing to drip water all over the place. A shower hasn’t seem to lift Phil’s mood because he angrily marches over to the bed, throws all the towels on the floor and practically buries into the sheets and pillows, making annoyed noises. Within 3 minutes Dan can hear Phil’s breathing even out and he knows he has fallen asleep.

Dan walks over to the bedroom, picks up the wet towels and dirty clothes, covers Phil with the duvet, closes the curtains on the window and leaves to start another load of laundry, softly closing the door behind him. He walks into the bathroom and he sees Phil’s contact lenses left out on the sink. With a sigh he puts them away in the cabinet and wipes the wet floor. He picks up the pile of mail on his way and throws it on the coffee table in the lounge. The top letter is most likely their electric bill. It’s addressed to Mr. and Mr. Lester.

Dan walks back into the bedroom, sheds all his clothes and climbs into bed. He feels Phil shifting around, automatically curling up to press his naked back against Dan’s side and letting out a content sigh.

Dan deletes the message he typed. And all the drafts. Instead he opens twitter and posts:

@amazingphil how wet do you get in the shwer if you dry with 3 towels and still flood the entire floor.

[besidemethewholedamntime]

Hello again! :D I'm here because of our conversation earlier... where I asked you if I could request a fic where Jemma wakes up after some surgery and asks hilarious questions to Fitz while still not fully recovered from anesthesia.. may be an au, may be canon! It's totally up to you ♥

hello! Here’s your finished piece and I hope it’s kind of what you were looking for! Thank you so much for prompting me it - it was such a joy to write

bumblebees and wisdom teeth

{Read on Ao3}

or read below! 

“No. Absolutely not. You must be out of your mind toeven suggest it.”

Fitz rolls his eyes as she turns her back for a moment– knowing better than to do it so she can see. His tone is calm, without a hintof frustration. “It was your dentist, Jemma, not me. And it wasn’t so much as asuggestion as she effectively told you that you needed your wisdom toothremoved.”

Jemma makes a harrumphsound, before throwing herself forcefully into the kitchen chair. “My teethare perfect.”

“I know,” hetells her, for the fifth time. “And so does she. But it’s hurting you. And youeither leave it or it gets infected and this becomes a much bigger deal.” Helooks at her imploringly. “You know this.”

A small smile appears, and he watches as she givesway. “That did sound like something I would say.”

For the first time since they’ve arrived home fromJemma’s dentist appointment this afternoon, Fitz allows himself a smile, too.As big and as brave as his wife is, he knows she has great reservations aboutthe dentist. It’s taken two weeks to try and convince the normally completelylogical Jemma Simmons to get over herself and make an appointment about thebothersome tooth.

“It won’t be so bad,” he tells her gently, able tocomfort now the stubbornness has subsided. “A quick operation.”

“But it’s only partially erupted,” Jemma moans. “Whichmeans they’ll have to dig around in there.”

“After everything you have faced, you can definitelyovercome this.” He watches her smile again, though it’s small. “And if you’revery good, then I’ll even get you some ice cream after it’s all over.”

She laughs at him, reaching over to kiss him gently.“That approach may work on our daughter,” she says silkily, “but I’m afraid Imight require something more than ice-cream.”

“Whatever you want,” he promises, kissing her again.

-x-

“Can I come, too?”

Sarah looks at him beseechingly, holding her miniatureladybird suitcase in her hands. Fitz stops folding the washing to ruffle herhair.

“We’ll all be going, kiddo. Mummy’s going to need uswhen the dentist is done with her mouth. But it’s only for a few hours so wewon’t need the suitcase.”

“Oh.” Sarah looks disappointed. “Okay.” She sets itdown on the floor. “When are we going?”

“As soon as mummy is done worrying about all of thethings she won’t be able to do for a couple of days,” he says, watching asSarah’s ‘thinking crease’ appears between her eyebrows. “Hey, why don’t you goget some things to do and put them in your amazing bumblebee bag, yeah?”

She runs off, clearly excited about the prospect ofgetting to use some animal themed luggage today. Fitz drops the t-shirt he’sfolding and pokes his head around the kitchen door.

“You ready to go soon?”

Jemma sits at the kitchen table, a pen gripped so hardin her hand that her knuckles have gone white. There are sheets of paper allover the table, all of the lists she has made to comfort herself. “It says twodays is enough time for recovery.”

“That’s what the dentist said.”

“The NHS website, too,” she hums. “But what do youthink?”

“I think we’ll see how you feel afterwards, okay?” Hereaches out his hand and, though with a bit of reluctance, she takes it.

“You’ll be fine, Jemma,” he says softly. “We’ll bothbe there the whole time.”

“Okay,” she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay.Let’s go get this bloody tooth removed.”

He grins in spite of himself. “That’s the spirit!”

-x-

“Oh wow! This is amazing!”

Fitz really only thought that the utter personality changesand complete silliness associated with wisdom tooth removal existed in thefilms, or was one of those things that was exclusively American.

“You are very handsome!”

But no.

“Are you single?”

It appears that it’s not. The proof of which iscurrently sitting on a chair in front of him, mouth puffed up with gauze, wheezingwith laughter at unknown jokes.

Jemma grabs his chin with her cool hands, and wiggles itabout. He tries not to laugh at the bewildered expression on her face. No doubtshe’ll remember it once the anaesthesia wears off.

“I think you’re incrediblyattractive.” She tries to roll her r’s, but it gets lose in the gauze. “Yourface is so symmetrical. I’ll bet if I checked, then you’d have the GoldenRatio.”

Knowing for a fact he doesn’t (because she’s checked,of course) he simply smiles and wishes it wouldn’t be frowned upon to record avideo in a hospital. “That’s a lovely compliment, Jemma, but I think it’s timewe get you home, now. Get you some sleep.”

Her elbow that he’d been about to take to help her upsuddenly retracts as if he’s shocked yet. Her eyes narrow, the crease betweenher eyebrows prominent. For a moment he’s overcome by the similarities between hiswife and daughter.

“How do you know my name?”

“You’re my best-friend and we’re married,” heexplains, patiently, opting for the short version. “If you let me help you up,we can get going and you’ll feel much better. I promise.”

“We’re married?!”She shouts, then winces, but doesn’t let the pain deter her. “Oh, I am verylucky indeed. A very lucky woman.”

“You know, I’m going to remember you said this.”

“Okayyy.” Jemma smiles up at him, glassy eyed, and offersher elbow up to him.

“Excellent, well done.” He helps her stand up, theturns his head this way and that. “Now we just have to locate Sarah and we canbe on our way.”

“Who’s Sarah?” Jemma asks sleepily, trying to lean herhead on his shoulder, and moaning a bit when his head swivelling doesn’t allowfor a comfortable stay.

“What kind of drugs did they give you?” He mutters, beforethe person he desires comes careening into the discharge room, brandishing asweetie from the vending machine.

“I got one for mummy and one for you!” Sarah exclaims,before noticing her mother and looking up at her, blinking owlishly.

“I’ll save hers for later,” she decides, stuffing thebumper pack of Starburst into her backpack.

“Good idea, kiddo.” He grins at her, then turns backto Jemma. “Right, let’s get going.”

“You are so pretty,” Jemma gushes, words slightly moreslurred than they were earlier. “Like a princess.”

Usually, Sarah becomes indignant at being likened to aprincess. Her face becomes all pinchy, and she tosses her toffee coloured curlsover her shoulder before walking away. If she’s in a particularly feisty mood,there can sometimes be shouting involved. He hopes that today isn’t one ofthose days.

Luckily, Sarah is a feisty but perceptive little beanand she simply loops her arm around her mother’s free one and leans her head inand says, “thank you.”

“And such lovely manners, too. You’ve been taught sowell.”

“By the best,” Fitz assures her. “Let’s go home.”

-x-

“Daddy,” Sarah whispers in the car on the way home. “Mummyisn’t going to be like this forever, is she?”

Fitz looks over to where Jemma has her head leaningagainst the passenger window, laughing uproariously at a dog, or perhaps theTesco delivery van, or the post box. He smiles a reassuring smile in the rear -viewmirror.

“Not for very long, kiddo. Don’t worry. Let’s justenjoy it while it lasts.”

-x-

“Knock knock,” he says, gently, pushing open the doorto the darkened bedroom.

“Ungggg,” Jemma groans into the pillow. “My head issplitting.”

He holds up a glass. “I brought you some water.”

She sits up, softly swiping hair away from herslightly swollen jaw. “My hero. Thank you, Fitz.”

“No bother.” He comes to sit next to her, handing herthe water with a paper straw in it.

She takes a sip, wincing a little bit, before lookingpast him, bleary eyes trying to focus in the dimness of the room. “Where’sSarah?”

“Downstairs making you a ‘get well soon’ card with hertoy dog. Expect a lot of paw prints next to her name.”

She chuckles, moaning and gingerly pressing her handto her jaw after she does so. He holds up a box of ibuprofen. “I brought these,too.”

“You deserve an award, Fitz.” She takes them with agrateful look. “I can’t believe what the anaesthesia did to me, earlier. I feelso embarrassed.”

“You shouldn’t,” he laughs. “It was cute.”

“Did I absolutely terrify our daughter?”

He can’t imagine Sarah being absolutely terrified ofanything. The child practically asks the world to come and take her on.

“No, not even a little bit.” He takes her hand in his.“She found it funny.”

“Oh dear. Never again, Fitz. I mean it.”

“I think you’ve done your fair share.” He takes in herpuffy jaw and bleary eyes and still thinks she’s the best thing, apart fromSarah, that he’s ever laid eyes on. “And it’s done now.”

“Mhmm.” She leans against him, head fitting on hisshoulder. “Thank you for everything.”

“Always, Jemma. What else was I going to do?”

He feels her try to smile into his shoulder, before shelooks up, gently taking his chin in her hand.

“What a handsome face,” she giggles. “I can’t believe I’mmarried to it.”

“Yeah, I know.” He presses his hand over hers. “I can’tbelieve it either.”

[spideywars]

prompt- a boyfriend AU where harry thought niall left him because half his clothes are missing but niall actually packed their bags for a surprise getaway vacation but he never realised half his clothes are missing too, fluff happens.

This is a mixture of fluff, angst, and comedy and so many different emotions packed into one fic! I am so happy how this turned out. Thank you for this prompt. 

–

“I brought take-out!” Harry’s voice boomed throughout the flat as he opened the front door skillfully with his elbow as he juggled a bag of Chinese take-out and his brief case in both arms.

He didn’t get an answer back, usually Niall would be stomping his socked feet down the hallway with a big smile on his face, with a yell of ‘Harold!’ coming from his mouth before he’d embrace Harry in a large and warm hug. But it didn’t really worry Harry that much, they’ve been doing these constant greetings for two years now, it doesn’t need to be a routine to have them both welcome each other at the door.

He made his way into the kitchen, setting down the Chinese on the counter with a large huff of relief at the lessoned weight on his arms. He placed his briefcase where it was usually put, right by the front door on the bench, and then got himself comfortable by taking off his shoes and coat.

Niall should be here by now, his presence should be all around Harry with him gushing about his day or furiously asking Harry how his went. But still, Niall was no where to be heard or seen, and Harry stood in the middle of the hallway perplexed at the emptiness he suddenly felt.

This was dramatic, he was being dramatic. It’s Niall for god sakes, he could be sound asleep in their bedroom all wrapped around the covers and so tangled up he’d be tripping his way out to grab Harry and bring him into a hug. He could also have went to the Tesco across the road, wanting to buy something to eat or drink without knowing that Harry was coming home with food.

Harry really didn’t want to worry so much right now, he’d get himself sick with all this unneeded stress on his shoulders from the simplest things.

He walked calmly towards their bedroom, feet light along the floorboards in case Niall really was sleeping. Niall has been having stressful days at his job these past couple weeks, so he has been more and more exhausted during the days when he’d get home with dark bags under his eyes and incoherent words coming through his mouth as he’d stumble his way to the bedroom to pass out without even getting out of his work uniform.

But Niall wasn’t there, not at all. Harry walked into the room to find it empty, the bed still the way it was from when Harry made it this morning while Niall made breakfast. There was a cold draft in the air from one of the windows not fully closed, sending goosebumps along his skin.

“Niall?” He found his voice through the shock that sent an earthquake down his spine, he didn’t really know why he said Niall’s name, because obviously the other brunet wasn’t around. There wasn’t much places to go in their one bedroom, one bathroom flat.

The next move was to the windows, closing the one that was opened and staring out across the street. He strained his eyes, trying to look into the windows of the shop but failing. Was Niall there? Maybe, there is still a chance, why would he be anywhere else without telling him?

But then he caught something at the corner of his eye, him slowly straightening himself out and turning to stare at the door to their closet that was wide opened. All of Niall’s clothes on his side, gone.

“Fuck, no…no fucking way.” He swore up a storm, everything hitting rock bottom and his feet felt like they had ten pound weights strapped onto them as he walked forward to get a better look. There was a big gap in Niall’s side of the closet, and Niall’s suitcase was gone too.

There was an obvious answer to the question that were fast-moving throughout his brain, and it made his blood run cold. He had to trip over himself to get towards the bed, sitting himself down and burying his head into his hands, the cool metal of his rings digging into his cheeks.

They have had their little fights here and there throughout their relationship, and one particular big one a week ago. But it wasn’t something that would ever make their relationship labeled as toxic, wasn’t something that would be worth leaving for. They would always work it all out in the end, say their apologies and give each other soothing kisses that threw all their problems away.

But apparently not all their problems were gone, not everything was fixed, and now Niall was gone and never coming back, leaving Harry in the dust to suffocate.

It was obviously him, the reason Niall left was because Harry did something wrong to get him so determined to pack all his things and leave to only become a lost memory for Harry. Harry was a bad boyfriend, probably didn’t comfort Niall enough when he would have his hard days at work. He didn’t apologize enough when they got into their fights, didn’t take Niall out to nice dates as much as they did at the start of their relationship. Were they just two ghosts in one flat, just moving around in different rooms with no sense of communication, with no love between one another anymore? Harry thought they weren’t, but Niall’s feelings towards him were toxic and broken so that must mean Harry was wrong all along, so completely blind to their relationship.

He should call Niall, that’s something he needs to do before he completely breaks down. All he really wants to do is curl up into a ball and forget the reality he’s living in, since the only reality that matters, the only reality that he wants, is him with Niall.

The phone was still tucked in the back pocket of his jeans, and he was just placing his hand back onto the hard surface of where his phone was when he heard the front door open, it being quiet like someone was trying to sneak their way in.

He didn’t think, his brain was smothered already so there was no sense of thought left in him. Harry just ran down the hallway and almost banged right into the man he thought he’d never see again. Now he was just a statue in front of Niall, body frozen and not knowing what to do.

Should he be fighting like his life depended on it? Try and get Niall back with soft words and 'I love you’s?’ Or should he just let Niall walk out, grab whatever things he forgot about and let him think about where they really stood now that they officially were broken up.

Niall looked surprised at first when he saw Harry, brows raised high in his forehead and a small gasp passing his lips when he was forced to stop before he collided right with Harry. But then a smile was coming across his face, and Harry was officially confused.

“Didn’t think you’d be home, guess I lost track of time!” He didn’t sound guarded or scared. There was no nervous tone to his voice like he was worried about what Harry was going to do, his expression was…normal, and almost overly happy even.

“Babe, have you been crying?” Niall spoke again after there was a tight silence, Harry was still in shock at this encounter. He expected to be on his knees begging for Niall to come back, but Niall’s acting like it’s just a normal day, maybe even rare good day, and Harry is here standing with no voice or actions.

“I-I…” Harry tried, but it didn’t work out the first time speaking, so he attempted again. “I thought you left, your-your clothes are gone, your suitcase is gone!” He pointed a stiff finger down the hallway, still never losing eye contact with Niall, as if he was scared he’d disappear into thin air as soon as he looked away.

“Your clothes are gone too, and your suitcase.” Niall chuckled, folding his arms over his chest and giving Harry a more sympathetic smile now that he realized the state he was in. But everything still wasn’t making sense, and Harry felt a headache grow like weeds in his mind thinking about it all.

“What?” He asked, shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I packed both of our suitcases, I just got back from putting them in the boot of my car.” Niall shrugged, pouting out his bottom lip all cute and innocently.

“So…” Harry took a step back, feeling unbalanced and having to put his hand against the wall to keep himself up. “You’re leaving me, taking all your stuff…and mine?”

Niall’s expression dropped, and there was a pause before Niall bursted out laughing, moving in and tugging Harry into a tight embrace. Harry didn’t really know what was happening still, but Niall’s familiar hug and scent had calmed him immediately, and he almost completely slumped forward to let Niall hold up his whole bodyweight, but he didn’t really want them crumbling to the floor at a time like this.

“Babe you thought I was leaving you? Where the hell did you get the thought that I was leaving you?” Niall still sounded like he was holding back a laugh, but his voice was soft and comforting, a hand coming down to rub at Harry’s back.

“Your clothes were gone and I guess I didn’t really think about looking at my own or finding my suitcase.” As Harry talked he realized how much of an idiot he was, and he sighed loudly, burying his nose into Niall’s neck and giving his boyfriend, still boyfriend, a good squeeze of a hug. “I’m sorry, I’m an idiot.” He grumbled out.

“No, you’re not. Just please don’t think I’d leave you like that, I love you.” They pulled away so Niall could meet Harry right in the eyes, blue eyes like calm waters that brought Harry into a hypnotizing state of mind.

“I know, I love you too.” He grabbed Niall again, not being able to wait any longer to kiss him. They kissed long and hard, fingers tangling in hairs and chests brushing together as if they were trying to rub the hearts inside them, reviving them.

They parted again, still close to each other, breathing one another in. “I mean I do like to wear your shirts around the house and your style is definitely iconic, but I don’t think I’d take it for myself ya know?” Niall joked, making Harry laugh. It was nice to laugh, the darkness from the hazardous atmosphere getting blown away.

“So now that all that is out of the way, can you drive us to the airport so we can get our arses on a plane to Hawaii? I got a break off work, called in for you too.” Niall was giving Harry a cheeky grin, pulling away and grabbing Harry’s wrist to pull them along to the front door.

“No fucking way.” Harry chuckled out, and Niall only shrugged with that stupid shit-eating grin still plastered across his face. Harry wanted to kiss him silly, realizing how much has changed in only the span of a few minutes of him getting into their flat, thinking his life was over, and now leaving with his boyfriend on a trip that might be the best days of his life ahead.

“Can we eat the take-out that I bought for dinner on the way, then?” He asked, stopping just as he and Niall got to the door. He dug his heels into the rug, forcing Niall to a stop before he could open the door.

Niall looked over his shoulder, raising a brow in question and looking like he was mentally asking 'are you for real?’ But Harry just blinked at him, still keeping his feet planted on the ground before an amused grin slowly drug itself onto Niall’s face, him nodding right after and letting Harry go to rush and grab the Chinese food still placed on the counter in the kitchen.

[jungkookienoona]

The Meme and His Tutor

Part 17: The Time The Tutor Broke Her Elbow

Co-written with @tragicshadows

Recommended Song: My Home by GOT7 

|All Chapters|

Summary:

Even though he had told you not to get hurt, it still happened anyway

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Clingy!Kook

Word Count:  5069

Length: 17/?

Luck seemed to be on your side for once as you spotted your suitcase seconds after arriving at the baggage carousel. Dropping your backpack at your feet, you did your best to haul the case over the small ledge to the floor with one arm. It was a struggle, but you managed and tried not to be too annoyed about no one offering you help. Once the suitcase was safely on the floor you pulled up the handle then reached down with your good arm for the backpack. Your other arm was in a sling thanks to an ice skating accident. With luggage in tow you to headed to arrivals. You walked past the front row of awaiting people with signs knowing that Jungkook would be stood a little further back to avoid being noticed.

As you wheeled your suitcase, your path was suddenly blocked by something- no, someone.

"Noona!" Shouted a familiar voice, your suitcase being snatched from your grip, "What happened to you?"

"I...uh...I broke my elbow ice skating." You looked to the floor and scratched the back of your neck out of embarrassment.

He stared at you wide-eyed for a moment. His hand came to rest on your shoulder causing you to look back up at him.

His tone was completely serious, "I'm going to have to wrap you in bubble wrap."

You broke into a fit of giggles and watched Jungkook's lips stretch into a smile that revealed his bunny teeth. And then he was wrapping an arm around your shoulder and steering you towards a manager a few feet away who held a sign welcoming you back to Korea. As you approached, the manager lowered the sign and gave you a polite bow. You tried your best to return it which was interrupted by Jungkook tugging your backpack off you.

"What are you doing?"

He finally freed the bag and swung it up onto his own shoulder.

"Being a gentleman. Did no one help you through arrivals with your case?" You shook your head and he made a noise of disapproval.

"It's okay. I managed."

You could just see his eyebrows furrow beneath the brim of his cap.

"I'll make sure to look after you Noona."

"And saying you'll wrap me in bubble wrap is a great way to show your concern."

"If it means Noona will stop getting hurt then yes."

He passed your suitcase over to his manager and took hold of your good hand as the manager led you out of the airport and into the car park. Once the car was loaded Jungkook helped you in and even did your seatbelt up. No matter how much you protested he insisted twice as hard saying it was something he wanted to do for you so you let him.

Setting off toward the dorm, you felt your eyes grow heavier with every passing second. You hadn't slept much on the flight, unable to get comfortable due to your arm. He must have noticed.

"You can fall asleep like last time Noona. I won't mind. Just don't forget we're going to celebrate you finishing your exams later."

"What are we doing?"

He tapped the side of his nose with a wink.

"It's a secret."

Too tired to push any further, you let your head fall against his shoulder and quickly fell asleep.

You awoke to the feeling of Jungkook gently nudging you awake. He gave you a gentle smile as you tiredly wiped the sleep from your eyes and you swore you heard an 'aw' come from the boy.

"We're here."

You undid your seatbelt while Jungkook rounded the car to open the door since it was on your bad arm's side.

With your suitcase in hand and backpack on his shoulder, he led the way up to the dorm. You quickly remembered to say thank you to the manager who gave you a kind smile before he climbed back into the vehicle.

"I already texted the hyungs to let them know you're injured."

"It's not a big deal."

Jungkook stopped and faced you.

"Noona your arm is in a sling."

You shrugged. "I don't want to cause a fuss."

He narrowed his eyes slightly but relented and continued until you were facing the familiar door of the Bangtan dorm. He unlocked it then stood aside, "Injured Noona first."

A group of familiar faces turned round to look at you and they waved as you entered the dorm. You managed a small wave back before Jungkook led you towards his room. He muttered something about unpacking first, socialising later. He opened the door to his room and held it open for you. You instantly smiled upon seeing Honey sat in the middle of his bed and rushed over to the plushie.

"Aww~" you looked back at Jungkook who was lifting your case onto the foot of the bed. "I missed her!"

"You never told me you missed me." He grumbled, dropping your backpack beside the case.

"I've seen you at least once every week. I don't have a chance to miss you."

You watched as he moved over to his closet, pouting as he opened it. There was a section cleared out. But you couldn't help but laugh at the sheer amount of white t-shirts hung up. You put Honey back to join Jungkook's side.

"I know you have a lot of white t-shirts but...that's a lot."

His pout morphed into a proud grin.

"I know. There's at least thirty."

You shook your head, chuckling to yourself and went to open your suitcase. There was a squeal and then a hand was swiping at the top of your folded clothes.

"You brought your onesie!!"

"Ye... do you still have your Pikachu onesie?"

He beamed at you, "Of course! I put it in the wash this morning so it would be nice and fresh for you... you have a lot of dark clothes."

You picked out a black t-shirt which revealed another one beneath but with a purple design on the front. Eighty percent of your clothing was indeed dark.

"We contrast well." You hung the two shirts beside Jungkook's white ones. There was no chance of you getting your clothes mixed up.

He laughed and you went about unpacking your things. You both blushed when your buried undies were revealed. Jungkook was a darker shade of red than you for once and mumbled something about an empty draw before leaving you to unpack the last few items by yourself.

It wasn't hard to find the empty draw so you finished sooner than he must have expected, giving you time to snoop around his room a bit. You couldn't help but stare at the amount of loo roll he had on his shelves. Why did he need so much? Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a mutter behind you. Jungkook's gaze drifted from you to the shelves to the floor. Was...was he blushing? Again?

Before you had the chance to ask he was bending down to retrieve something from the floor. When he stood up your mouth went dry.

"Noona? Is this who I think it is?"

"You should recognise him from our Skype sessions."

He grinned down at the black fluffy teddy wearing a tartan scarf, "Hello Kookie. Would you like to meet Honey?"

"I won him at a carnival shooting range."

"Oh! Kookie you have something in common with Honey!"

He wandered to the side of his bed and placed the little bear beside Honey making sure to introduce them to each other. He looked like a child and you felt your heart stutter at the sight. It was too adorable.

"Are you sure you're a man, BunBun?"

He glared at you.

"Why do you keep questioning my manliness? I guess I'm gonna have to prove it to you."

You raised an eyebrow, "How does one prove their manliness?"

His hand went to the zip of his hoodie and you darted across the room, grabbing his hand.

"Stop threatening to strip!"

"Stop questioning my manliness!" You could sense the mirth in his voice despite his glare. "I don't know how else to prove it to you."

"Fine!" You stepped away from him. "I admit it. You're the manliest of all men and I'll never question it again."

"Good." He gave a pleased smirk and turned, picking up your toiletries and placed them on his desk next to his own. "I don't keep my stuff in the bathroom ‘cause it's shared."

"Is that why you have so much toilet paper in here?"

There was a thud as he dropped a can of body spray.

"Shit."

You watched him scramble to pick it up, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Uhh, since I have empty shelves we keep it here."

"But that's a lot of toilet paper."

His mouth opened and closed like a fish before he said, "Jin likes to bulk buy."

You gave him a suspicious look, you didn't know why but you felt like he was lying.

"I doubt Jin would buy Tesco own brand value packs. That stuff is so thin it doesn't really do its job."

"Uuuh... l-l-let's just forget about the toilet paper."

"But-"

"Let's go see the members." He steered you by the shoulders out the door and down the corridor to the living room.

Namjoon was the first to spot you and jumped up to greet you prompting the others to all look over.

"Y/N...what happened to your arm?"

"I uh... I fell over ice skating."

Namjoon shifted from one foot to the other like there was something he wanted to say or do. But then he was raising a hand and ruffling your hair.

"You really are a God of Destruction like me. You're a Goddess of Destruction."

There was a scoff and you could've sworn you saw Jungkook roll his eyes.

"Nega yeogi on geon joh-eun il-iya. (Good thing you're here then)," Jimin piped up, "Jungkookie-neun neoui gaein bodi gadeuga doel su iss-eo. (Jungkookie can be your personal bodyguard)."

You chuckled and took a seat on the couch next to Taehyung.

"Y/N deongsaeng-eun neomu eosaeghae. Niga busang urihamyeon eotteohge jeulgeoul jagjeong-iya? (Y/N-dongsaeng is so clumsy. How are we meant to have fun if you're injured?)" He asked, dramatically pulling you into a hug.

You hissed and your arm was crush between the two of you.

"Yah! Hyung-i geunyeoreul apeugehagoiss-eoyo! (Yah! Hyung you're hurting her!)"

He immediately let go of you, "Oh! Mian Y/N! Nae jalmos-iya. (Oh! Sorry Y/N! My bad.)"

"Gwaenchanhayo. (It's okay.)" You mumbled, biting your lip as pain shot down your arm. "Sago yeoss-eoyo. (It was an accident.)"

"Yaedeul-a, nae Noonareul dachige haji ma. Josimhaseyo, jebal. (Guys, no hurting my Noona. Be careful, please.)"

All the members nodded in unison.

Placing a hand on Taehyung's arm you assured him you were fine. He gave you a small smile but you knew he was feeling guilty.

"Gwenchanhayo Taehyung-oppa (It's alright Taehyung-oppa)."

Then he was giving you a megawatt grin.

"Oppa?! Nega naleul ‘oppa’rago bulleoss-eo. (You called me oppa!)"

He was literally bouncing in his seat in happiness. You scooted backwards to avoid his flailing arms, not quite understanding his sudden excitement.

"Neoneun jeon-e nareul ' oppa'rago buleun jeog-i eobs-eo. (You never called me oppa before.)" He explained.

You glanced at Jungkook who you could tell was biting back a scoff due to his hatred of the word.

"Ah, mianhaeyo. (Sorry)"

"Y/N-eun nareul opparo bogo iss-eo! (Y/N sees me as a brother figure!)"

Namjoon placed a hand on Taehyung's shoulder, "Geunyeoneun jeoreul "oppa"rago cheoeum-euro bulleoss-eo. (She called me oppa first.)"

Jimin snickered in the background. You felt the seat next to you dip down as Jungkook finally sat down. His arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder.

At first, you stiffened, then relaxed into the embrace and warmth of his body heat.

"I have nicknames. Does that make me special?" He whispered and you shook your head with a chuckle.

"It means you're younger than me, Kookie.”

You would never admit to the fact you had about 20 nicknames for him ranging from 'Precious Angel' to 'The Reason I Sin'. Your attention was caught by the sound of the front door clicking shut. Yoongi then appeared in the doorway.

"Y/N-i yeogi issni? (Is Y/N here?)"

You gave him a wave and watched his lips part into a smile.

"Annyeonghaseyo Oppa."

Jungkook shifted behind you almost as if he was trying to get closer to you.

"Moduga wass-euni ije galkkayo? (Now that everyone is here, shall we get going?)" Jin said, pulling car keys out of his back pocket. You turned to face Jungkook, leaning back slightly due to your close proximity.

"Where are we going?"

"I told you. Secret"

He stood up and used your good arm to pull you with him. You stumbled a bit and he steadied you, smiling sheepishly. He must have used more strength than necessary. Damn muscle pig. You followed the members out of the dorm and down to the van where you were seated between Hoseok and Jungkook at the back.

Hoseok gave you a grin and you could tell he was trying to hold back a laugh, "Ibeon-e neoneun uri Kookiega anira neo jasin-eul dachigehanda.(This time you hurt yourself, not our Kookie)."

You chuckled, "Byeong-won bangmun-ui pil-yoseong-i eobs-eo. (No need for a hospital visit.) Then turned to Jungkook. "Don't make me send you to the hospital again."

A look of sudden realisation dawn on his features, "I can't call you cute now that you're here." But then he looked at your arm and smirked, "Though there's nothing you can do if I did."

"Oh, really?"

You lifted your leg and pressed the heel of your foot onto his clean white trainers.

"Noona!"

"If you call me cute your shoes will get it." He pouted. "And if you don't learn your lesson I will find any dirty secrets you have in your room and expose them." His face paled in horror, eyes blowing wide. You leant over so your face was inches from his, "So don't call me cute." You tapped his cheek and gave him a sadistic smile.

"Yes, Noona."

Your smile grew, "Good boy."

You heard Namjoon choke near the front and gave the back of his head a confused look. What was with him?

The journey was complete with idle chit chat between you and the members who asked about your flight. Pulling into an underground car park, you had no clue where they were taking you. It could have been a movie theatre or a haunted house for all you knew.

Doors were opened and the members piled out, Jungkook helping you. You jolted a bit when a hand covered your eyes and another went to your hip.

"If Noona saw where we are going it would ruin the surprise."

You carefully shuffled forward causing Jungkook to chuckle. He was so close you could feel his breath tickle your neck.

"I promise I won't walk you into a wall. Trust me."

"Yoongi-oppa, jebal, geuga nareul samullo indohagehaji mala juseyo. (Yoongi-oppa, please, make sure he doesn't walk me into anything.)"

You heard a deep chuckle nearby.

"Maknae, geunyeoreul dolbwara. (Maknae, look after her.)"

Jungkook lightly squeezed your hip, urging you forward. He blindly led you for a minute before coming to a stop.

Why were you nervous? Was is because he was so close to you? Or because you couldn't see where you were going? You bit your lip to stop yourself from once again asking what the surprise was.

"Jimin-hyung, niga nareul wihae geunyeoui gwileul deop-eul su iss-eoyo? Naneun geunyeoga da-eum-e mueos-inji deudneun geos-eul wonhaji anhneun-eoyo. Nollam-eul mangchilgeoya.  (Jimin-hyung, can you cover her ears for me? I don't want to hear what's next. It'll ruin the surprise.)"

Jimin must have nodded because you didn't hear a reply before a pair of hands were muffling your hearing. You felt kinda sorry for him because that meant he was walking backwards. After a short walk, you paused and one of your ears was uncovered.

"There's three steps down so hold onto Jimin, Noona."

Your hearing was once again blocked and you placed a hand on what you assumed was Jimin’s bicep as you took a tentative step downwards.

You hoped wherever they were taking you didn't have many people because you were sure you looked ridiculous. A few more minutes of walking around and Jimin's hands once again left your ears.

"Keep your eyes closed for me."

You squeezed your eyes shut and his hands moved away from your eyes and hip to press down on your shoulders, encouraging you to sit. The sound of chairs scraping against wood flooring filled your ears and you wanted nothing more than to take a peek.

"Okay, Noona. Open your eyes."

You blinked your eyes open and let out a stunned gasp. W-was this really the place? You looked around and then again. Tears welled in your eyes when you realised where you were. They had taken you to the same restaurant they had taken Jungkook when he started and finished high school. It was a fangirl's dream! You couldn't help the fact that the tears welled over and spilt over your cheeks. Jungkook turned you to face him, wiping the tears in worry.

"Wae uneungeoya? Neoneun geugeol joh-ahaji anhni? (Why are you crying? Do you not like it?)”

You quickly nodded and smiled not wanting to think you were disappointed.

"I love it. It's perfect."

Jungkook's face instantly brightened and he shuffled his chair even closer to wrap you in his arms, patting your back to soothe you.

"I thought you hated it. I was about to tell Jin-hyung to get his car keys back out."

You sniffled, "Whose idea was this?"

He blushed and scratched the back of his neck, "Mine."

Jin passed you a menu and you opened it, you found your eyebrows drawing together as you tried to figure out what the dishes were. Jungkook must have noticed your struggle.

"I recommend you have this one Noona. I think you'll love it." He said while pointing at a certain dish.

"Jajangmyeon. I like black bean noodles."

Namjoon, who was sat the other side of you as you were seated as head of the table, reached over to point at another dish.

"I've had this before. Also very nice."

You looked to Jungkook for approval who was frowning.

"Noona isn't a big fan of meat. She can have the noodles without the pork but that's mainly beef."

Namjoon frowned, "Sorry Y/N. I didn't know about your likes and dislikes when it comes to food."

You placed your hand on top of his on the table and gave him a small smile.

"It's okay Namjoon-oppa. You know now."

Your attention was diverted by a tap on the shoulder.

"Hyung wants to know what you're having to drink."

You looked down the table at Jungkook's six hyungs trying to decipher which one was ordering. Of course, it was Jin who was the furthest away and giving you a kind smile.

"I'll have a Dr Pepper."

He relayed your message to his hyung, taking your hand off Namjoon's and interlinking your fingers with his. You felt your cheeks heat as you stared down at the way he held your hand. He caught your eye and smiled. You tried to ignore the way your tummy did a little flip at the sight.

"Y/N," Jimin said from beside Jungkook, "Gisugsa-e meomulgiga heungbundoena? (Are you excited to stay at the dorm?)"

"Geuligo Jungkookie-ui chimdaeeseo. (And in Jungkookie's bed.)" Taehyung added.

"Na-na-naneun Jungkook-eul chimdaeeseo naejjoch-aseo gibun-i johji anh-eoyo. (I-I-I feel bad for kicking Jungkook out of his bed...)"

Jungkook gave your hand a squeeze, "I don't mind Noona. And it turned out for the best anyway."

"But your back..."

"It's only a week. I'll be fine."

Hoseok stretched an arm across the table to ruffle Jungkook's hair.

"Neoneun geunyeoege neomu jalhae jwo. Wae urihante mosdoen jis-eul haneun geoya? (You're so good to her. Why are you evil to us?)"

"Waenyahamyeon neon yeppeun Noonaga aniyo. (Because you're not a pretty Noona.)"

"Oh~ Eotteon yeppeo nunado chimdaee meomulge hal su issgess ni? (Oh~ Can any pretty Noona stay in your bed?)"

You felt your stomach drop at the thought. Jungkook gritted his teeth but took a deep breath.

"Ani, nae Noona ppun-iyo. (No, just my Noona.)"

You were almost absolutely certain Jungkook was on a mission to kill you. Ever since meeting him and becoming friends he had been far too good to you; showering you with surprises and spending his hard earned money on you. A small part of you wondered if he had an ulterior motive since it was more than a simple friend deserved.

Jungkook and the members discussed what they wanted to order. When the waiter came over the selected meals were rattled off. As you all waited for the food to arrive you talked about things you had been working on or practising. Jungkook didn't let go of your hand for the entire time until your food arrived. Grabbing your chopsticks, you gave the noodles a stir.

"Modudeul, jal meog-eoyo. (Everyone, eat well.)" You announced to the table causing the men to chuckle amongst themselves.

You tucked into the dish, managing a few mouthfuls until your grip faltered and the utensils slipped from your fingers. Curse your non-dominant hand. Before you could attempt to pick up your chopsticks, Namjoon handed you a fork.

"You're injured, you're not expected to eat like us when you physically can't."

"Thank you."

You were able to twirl the noodles onto the fork with ease and gave him a grateful smile.

"How is it?" Jungkook asked when you were pausing to have a drink.

"Really good. The best I've ever had."

His signature bunny grin appeared, "Then next time you're in Korea I'll take you here again. Just the two of us."

Did your heart just stop? You were pretty sure your heart stopped.

"O-okay."

You hadn't even considered a next time in Korea, having just arrived, but Jungkook seemed to like planning ahead.

He looked down the length of the table and caught the member's attention.

"Modudeul, Noonaga Noona-ui siheom-eul kkeutnaeneun geos-eul eung-wonhabsida. (Everyone, let's cheers for Noona finishing her exams.)"

They all cheered and Taehyung got up to ask the waiter to take a picture of you all sat together. You were a bit surprised when Jungkook moved out of his seat, wiggling between you and Namjoon to give you a back hug, chin resting on your shoulder again. The waiter counted down from 3 and you all shouted kimchi.

Taehyung made sure to send the picture to you all and you took your phone out to save it. Jungkook reached around you to zoom in on everyone's faces.

"It's a good picture."

"My sling ruins it." You pouted. It stuck out against your dark clothing and looked awful.

"I told you not to injure yourself when you hit your knee."

The meal continued with the members asking you about what you had planned since you had finished college. You had to ask Jungkook to translate for you since their questions got too complex sometimes or used vocabulary you didn't know. Once the main meal was finished you were shocked to have a bowl of brownies and ice cream placed in front of you. Jungkook explained that he had ordered it for you earlier.

"You certainly know the way to my heart." You mumbled around a mouthful.

It melted in the mouth and you didn't realise you had moaned until Jungkook burst into laughter.

"Is it really that good?"

You nodded, loading your spoon up with a generous amount of the desert and held it up to his mouth. He didn't even hesitate as he leant forward to have a taste of the dessert you offered. His eyes closed and he made his own pleased sound when the rich dessert hit his taste buds. Time seemed to have slowed down as his tongue ran along his plush bottom lip gathering ice cream.

"Delicious."

Without thinking you swiped your thumb over the corner of his mouth and brought it to your own mouth.

"Y-you had some crumbs there..."

He blinked and you were shocked to find his eyes almost black where his pupils had dilated. He must have enjoyed the brownie more than he let on.

"Uh... thanks... I can be a messy eater sometimes." He turned his gaze away from you and took a swig of his drink.

You went back to finishing your dessert, ignoring the eyes of Namjoon who was looking between you and Jungkook with an unreadable expression.

It was a struggle after a filling meal, but you managed to finish it all with no further help from Jungkook.

"Noona sure can eat a lot."

You blushed and fiddled with the side of your sling, "I'll take that as a compliment."

There was a short discussion between the members about how they would pay before they decided to split the bill evenly between everyone. You went to fish your purse out of your bag but Jungkook grabbed your hand stopping you.

"This was a gift for Noona. So I'll pay for you."

"Kookie-"

Before you had a chance to protest he pushed back his chair and joined the others at the cash desk.

"Why the sad face?"

Namjoon returned to the table, stuffing his wallet into his pocket.

"Jungkook wouldn't let me pay."

"Ah, I see."

"He never does. It makes me feel bad. I don't deserve all this."

He seemed to hesitate before responding, taking the seat Jungkook just left, "You shouldn't feel bad. He does this because he... cares about you. The boy doesn't have many friends but those he does have he would punch a shark for." You both laughed at that. "Personally I'm glad he's spending money on a human being and not more white t-shirts or Bluetooth speakers."

"He has more white shirts than I have clothes."

Namjoon placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Since meeting you all those months ago he seems a lot happier. More tired, but mainly happy. He's always telling us what you're up to and what you've taught him."

You felt your heart swell at the thought of him talking about you to his members and heat rose to your cheeks. You were too caught up in your own world to notice Jungkook returning.

"You ready to go?"

You stood up and went onto your tiptoes to give him a hug. It took him a second to react but then two arms were wrapping around your waist.

"What did I do to deserve this?"

"Pay for my flight and food."

"If this is how you pay me back for spending money on you then maybe I should do it more often." He said as he nuzzled into your neck, you could feel his smile.

Namjoon cleared his throat, "Okay, break it up you two. We're leaving now."

His hands fell from your back and you stepped away from him, avoiding Namjoon's gaze.

"Come on Noona."

You took his outstretched hand and followed behind all the members back to the car. During the journey back to the dorm you were a yawning mess, the long flight plus jet lag plus a full belly made it hard to stay awake. Jungkook gave you a sympathetic smile and said that the Pikachu onesie should be dry by the time you got back so you could go straight to bed. Every now and then you found yourself drifting off but would jolt yourself awake. Arriving at the dorm you forced your eyes open and held onto Jungkook as you went inside.

You said goodnight to the members and went into Jungkook's bedroom while he disappeared into the laundry room. He came back with the onesie and left you alone to change. It was a bit of a struggle and you whimpered and hissed in pain more than you cared to admit but eventually you had managed to change into it. A part of you wished he hadn't washed it so it would still smell of him. In your process of changing you had taken off your sling, preferring to sleep without it, and climbed into bed. There was a knock at the door and you said it was fine to come in. A mop of dark hair popped through the door.

"I just want to grab a blanket and pillow."

You nodded and he grabbed his things from his wardrobe.

"Pikachu suits you, Noona."

"I think it suits you better."

He turned to face you with a smirk, "Maybe but Pikachu is Noona's now. And you said you would buy me a rabbit onesie."

You hadn't forgotten, you just needed to go shopping with him since you didn't know his size.

"Goodnight BunBun."

"Goodnight Noona."

He flicked the light and shut the door, leaving you to comprehend the fact that you were wearing his clothes in his bed.

You had been sleeping peacefully when you were woken up by the mattress shifting as someone else climbed into the bed. Your eyes snapped open to see what was happening and were greeted by the sight of a shirtless but practically dead looking Jungkook curling up to you. His arms came to wrap around your waist and pulled you to him and his face nuzzled its way into your clothed breasts. You felt your entire face heat up.

You froze, wondering what to do. Did you try to wake him or deal with the fact that Jeon Jungkook was cuddling you? The fangirl in you knew he was an absolute dead weight when asleep so there was no chance of waking him. You looked down at him. He looked so peaceful cuddling up to you. Cute even. Like a small child cuddling their plushie as they slept. You definitely couldn't wake him. He looked too precious. With a small smile, you opted for going back to sleep and dealing with him in the morning. You cradled his head against you to return the hug, carding your fingers through his hair which lulled you back to sleep.

AN:  We got the idea for this chapter after I broke my elbow back in February... or was it March... Those two months blurred together for me. You can all relax now. We're back in Korea. Finally. He's really treating her like a princess, isn't he? And the kid ended up in his own bed anyway xD 

[nathjonesey-75]

A Day In A Life

They say retrospect is a wonderful thing. To be able to review; objectively and honestly – moments, times or even periods of time. Critically or loosely. Positively or negatively. Sometimes that essential clarity of thought cannot be granted until enough time has passed, as the mind (it has been known) to play tricks on us. In this particularly unique instance it has taken me this long – twenty-two years, in fact – to be openly able to absolutely look everything in the eye and be brutally frank. To the point where it’s almost completely written in the third-person, about another individual.

 I suppose it could be as much the self-therapy I’ve wanted to gift myself, as it is hopefully a document of mental health learning for others. Tomorrow I will turn the grand, fuddy-duddy, middle-aged, wrinkle-washed age of forty-four. Double the age of probably the most pivotal and instrumental birthday anniversary of my life. Those who have known me forever will know why – but as I try not to assume that I know everything about everyone – this is a story from a very jittery life journey. Having lost people; friends and acquaintances from my generation to mental health struggles and coping mechanisms which didn’t work – “every little helps”, as Tesco says.

 On Wednesday, May 7th, 1997, I travelled back to Nottingham; to my university life, having visited my mother after a write-off, nasty car accident had broken both her legs. She used to tell me up to that point “I’ve been driving twenty-five years and had no accidents, so don’t tell me how to drive!” When the time had clearly come to blemish the self-prognosed perfect driver’s record – it was done in destructive style. Anyway, having left my pin-legged mother in Llanelli, I returned to pre-arranged birthday drinks in Nottingham. A month or so away from completing my BA (Hons) Communication Studies course, this was to be probably the last big celebration before a month of coursework was to be completed. Life was good (apart from the aforementioned Mrs Damon Hill-Jones’s road exploits).

 After a few hours of not paying for any drinks, I felt on the brink of being annihilated - should I drink any more. So, after running into my work colleague from my part-time job at the Beatroot nightclub, the two of us diverted from Sam Fay’s late bar – to his nearby flat, near Nottingham castle, so I could chill out for an hour. The plan was to return and see the night out until 2am. Whether the walk and fresh air had helped or not, I had a semi-second wind. We got to his flat and my ideals of birthday grandeur got the better of me. I wanted a bottle of bubbles. At that time of night, the only place I could get one would be a nightclub, so we ordered a taxi to take us to…sigh….The Black Orchid. A cheesy, yet huge club in the enterprise park which had Wednesday student night on. Did I need the bottle? No, yet the cab was booked.

 It was at this point that my mental hard drive crashed. My next memory was waking up in a hospital bed, the following afternoon, with not only my friends around the bed, but my father as well. I opened my eyes and asked; “What happened?”, as if I was in a scene of a film where the character had woken up in heaven – only to be sent back to earth with a completely abstract life narrative to the one which was being played up to the Wednesday. Turns out I had probably had another drink at my friend’s, at some point of the night consumed a small amount of amphetamines, then passed out on the first-floor landing, but falling sharply down the twenty feet of stairs on my head, all the way.

Now, with music playing loudly, my workmate and his flatmate heard nothing. It was their neighbour who heard a large ‘thud’, who rang the doorbell in concern which alerted them, along with the taxi which had arrived outside. There was blood everywhere. I had fractured my skull, torn nerves while breaking my nose and had a slight haemorrhage on the side of my head. Five days were spent in Nottingham’s QMC Hospital, mostly sleeping. On the Saturday, I remember getting out of bed in a complete fuzzy daydream, wearing only one of those crappy bed gowns; walking to the toilet with the nurse calling after me “Nathan! Where are you going?” “Home!” was the abrupt, muddled answer. I urinated, went back to bed and proceeded to enter hibernation once again.

 Doctors said I was lucky to be alive. There was a dent at the front of my cranium, around an inch long. Had that been an inch higher in position on my skull – I was told I would have died. Those nerves I severed were my smell and taste nerves, so I’ve had very diminished senses in those departments, since. Most pivotal – was my doctor, back in Llanelli; once I returned and spent another five days in Prince Phillip Hospital, he said “You will experience some depression and levels of fatigue.” Immediately, in my head I decided – no I won’t. Not the depression, anyway. I’ll find a way of keeping lively and feeling good. The fact Being ruled out of playing rugby or football for at least nine months became a huge problem. My penultimate match played before the incident was for Wales Students Rugby League team against Scotland. The previous summer I had trained pre-season with my beloved Llanelli RFC, with the likes of Stephen Jones and Ieuan Evans; taking my fitness to a new level. I was twenty-two with the world at my feet. There was no way I was stopping. Unsurprisingly, it took a very short space of sleepy, anxious time to realise I’d have to succumb to the doctor’s prognoses.

 Panic attacks began, embarrassingly in public while visiting a friend for their birthday in August 1997, having seen out three months of ‘no alcohol’ from my doctor’s orders. I had no energy. Not even enough to complete my coursework, so Nottingham Trent University gave me an extension of three months – to the end of August, to submit my work. However, I was living away from the university and my beloved friends. What the hell was happening? No energy; forced to live with my mother and brother while my father and sister both lived in Cardiff; both studying for their new careers. Here beginneth the hardest years of my life.

 By the end of 1997, I had managed to graduate successfully, but I was by then suffering heavy depression and anxiety, fuelled by the loneliness of having no friends around; not knowing why I was on earth and wanting to die. I had lost all tracking of whom I was, what I was doing and where any of it was going. Plus, glandular fever had bitten me hard, taking a month out of my glorious, progressive freezer job at Asda.

In January 1998, I was charged with drink-driving, having driven home on Christmas week with no care for repercussions; caught on camera making a U-turn in a forbidden area. While living at home with my mother caused all sorts of tension, arguments and vitriol, the only thing which kept me partially sane was my first set of turntables. With very few points of company around in a reversal of vibrant, university life – it was me; and the decks. Over time, it became a slow, fearful return to “normal” life. I have never been a naturally confident person – easily intimidated in the past by louder, overconfident characters, but this new anger in me – for what I didn’t know – became something, someone – I had to allow to be played out. Not a villain, but an even more insecure little boy to that one on the morning of May 7th, 1997. Unapologetically cavalier, which only cost me at times – and those who suffer depression will know how past mistakes can eat the soul of those who made the mistakes.

For many years I refused to accept depression and anxiety were a part of me. My mother has since told me she believed it began with my grandfather’s death when I was seventeen, but I know from looking deeply inside myself, from exploring instincts I’ve always had, but with which I’ve had to become accustomed – questions I’ve asked in early teenage years, that my fears and those scared instincts – must be tied into my neurological wiring. Throughout my early twenties, from that point I lived out wild teenage years – years locked away inside the vault of a strict upbringing. Partying. Having to surrender, also – any instinctive passion or talent I had for playing rugby, from being oversensitive to knockbacks and increasing lack of confidence.

 Seventeen thousand career changes later, I find myself at almost full-circle completion point. Only now, a bit of maturity (which I appreciate) makes the Peter Pan in me; hopefully a more reasoned character and person. I went into teaching (having told myself at eighteen I would never become a teacher) to try forging a predictable, 9-to-5 life for myself in a past relationship. To try proving to myself I was a virtuous individual (ironically omitting the thought that there are vile and immoral teachers out there too – luckily not many, but there are!) among the clouds of twentysomething decisions – without realising I didn’t have to almost burn myself out a second time, by becoming something I was not aligned with - to prove I could be virtuous and good. Back, now; working in hospitality and trying to revitalise my DJ career (as that’s what I always wanted to do), playing music I love and believe in – rather than what I fooled myself into thinking others wanted, in those hazy days.

 Personally, visiting a psychologist in 2013 (my own choice) to try fathoming whether I had ADHD – which could explain these seventeen-thousand career changes, as well as lack of interest in my later school days – may have given me the road signs I needed. Being told it wasn’t attention deficit, but depression – being medicated has been like having a carbon monoxide fan for the air I breathe. It can always seep back into the oxygen channels, but I have now the ability to blow it away. The ridiculousness of life is something I have to laugh at – I don’t believe in staying miserable (despite being the younger Victor Meldrew). I appreciate the chances I have now and my family life. The point being – the imbalanced brain wires may have always been there but became violently exacerbated by this accident. I cannot stress enough how important it is to consult a mental health professional. Drop the pride, the façade and ideals of grandeur – everyone has some kind of something going on. Some are better are dealing with it than others.  Some can’t hold on in the battle.

 In one of those seventeen thousand careers – twenty years ago, in fact – I worked at what was, pretty much – an abuse line, call-centre; at British Gas in Cardiff. One reason I didn’t last there was because I am not a salesman. Plus, I’m an impatient non-salesman. In this job, the department had to deal with calls from people who had been mis-sold contracts by field agents, selling gas and electricity. On one memorable occasion an English man called, calling me a “f***ing c***” for asking him to explain – a little slower – what exactly happened and how he was conned. When I told him I’d hang up if he didn’t change his abusive tone, he replied “Sorry, I haven’t had my medication today, have I love?” To which his wife, shouting in the background answered, “No, he hasn’t.”

 I still laugh at that, knowing that’s the bar of communication I’d prefer to stay beneath.

[baltics4engbergs]

Leaving Warsaw and our first day in London!

On Sunday, we flew from Warsaw to London, aboard a Qatar Airlines plane, because BA cabin crews were on strike and they borrowed some planes and crew from Qatar so as to not totally buckle under the impact of the strike.  

So, we checked in in Warsaw and we were at first discouraged by the really disorganized check-in procedure that looked as if it was going to take an eternity, but ultimately it went smoothly.  Before that, we had to meet up with our rental car guy from the Latvian car-rental company we found for a one-way Baltics car rental.  That was not easy to do, but Eric found this company online, and, I must, say it all worked out perfectly.  They were so great -- Prime Car Rent-- and they brought the car to us in Helsinki and picked it up in Warsaw.  The guy we originally got the car from, Aleksander, who I think I mentioned before, was super nice and helpful, and the guy who met us in the short-term parking garage (which we were super nervous about hitting the roof of the car on!) in Warsaw was great too.  We did lose the kids’ neck pillows in the car, so that was one casualty, but otherwise, the car rental experience gets an A+. Anyway, the Warsaw airport experience was  fine, once we got through the surprisingly disorganized line and took our oversized car-seat baggage to this very mysterious drop-off location where Alia disappeared behind a door for a few moments after being beckoned by an employee.  We got through security and then Alia went to spend her zlotys and Eric and the kids and I went to a lounge we had access to.  That was nice.  We filled up on milk (well, for Cece), cereal, cheese, crackers, pears, apples, and Prince Polo candy bars.

Rowan freaked out on the plane when he realized he did not have a window seat.  He threw a major crying tantrum and the poor guy who had that window seat felt so badly, he was like “I don’t want to make a little kid cry!,” but I said “he’s really just got to learn to deal with it.”  Then, once the flight was about to leave, Rowan decided to just chat with the guy, and it all went super well!  The guy was really interesting. He was just finishing up a seven-week tour as a sound-engineer with an electronic musician named Nicholas Jaar with whom he’s worked for ten years.  This guy, Vance, was Seattle-based, but is on tour with Jaar a lot of the year, several years running. He was really sweet to Rowan, super nice, and was great with him, engaging him in conversation about all of the vehicles they saw out of the window and about all of the places they’d each traveled.   Rowan told him of his love for the song “Ghost Crab” by Mechanical River and his adoration of Pat Benatar.

We arrived to London and the first major event was getting our Uber to central London.  That didn’t go as smoothly as we would have liked, because the pick-up point was unclear, and then when we tried to install the car seats, it turned out there were no latch-anchors so we had to do seatbelt install and that went, well, perhaps not perfectly.  But, after a really long hour drive to London-- during which we passed my old street (Balcombe Street), we got to our flat-- or more accurately, the coffee shop where we needed to pick up the key.

Now, the Airbnb host did tell me the day before that the address she uses in her listing is not in fact the actual address of the place because she doesn’t want people using the address for “personal purposes” (whatever that means) and we were kind of mad about that, because after using Google Earth, we were expecting the building to be very different than it was.  Turns out the flat is fine.  But, she did really give me a scare when I wrote her the day before to confirm that the crib and high chair would be there, and she wrote back and was like, “sorry, we don’t have those,” and I quickly wrote back with a pasted-in version of the email exchange we had in which she said she’d provide them.  So, she wrote back and said, “Sorry! You’re right. They'll be there.”  Then, when we arrived, her poor friend who was helping her out because she was out of town was building an actual crib not just assembling a pack-n-play.  I honestly felt bad, because if you’ve ever built, or witnessed anyone building, a legit crib, it’s a pain in the neck and takes forever.  Eric jumped in to help, while Alia and the kids and I went to Tesco to load up on groceries, and when we got back, they had it built.  But you know what else you need with a crib?  A mattress.  Yup.  Medina, the helper, could not find that in her Sunday-thereby-compromised shopping in London (even though London is so amazing built-up and busy these days, I am shocked the crib-buying options were so limited).  So, she bought patio furniture cushions. Yes, you read that right. Turns out they do fit pretty snuggly and now that Cece is two, I am not as terrified.  But, I did check like a hawk that they were in there snuggly and well.  I mean, if I had a young baby, I would’ve freaked out at this work-around a lot more.  But, it’s been fine for the night we’ve been here. But, really, patio furniture cushions?  Ugh.  And we’ve had to buy our own toilet paper.  Will we include these items in our review?  Not sure.  But, the flat is in a great location and is nice otherwise.

Last night, the kids got to bed at a decent time and then, this morning, they were up early (before 7) and so I took them on a walk to King’s Cross station to the toy store there and we really looked around the whole station and did buy two little toys, one of which is one of those crazy big-eyed Ty stuffed animals: a cat for Cece.  We went from King’s Cross station over to UCL on Gower Street, my old college for 1995-1996, and it was nice to check it out again!  But man oh man, London just seems so incredibly busy -- everywhere, all the time. I don’t remember it being this way in the mid-nineties.

After UCL, we picked Eric up at the flat and walked thirty minutes to Covent Garden to the London Transport Museum to meet my friend Alison and her son Fraser.  It was so, so great to see them!  I had never met Fraser, since it’s been like 8 years since I’ve seen Alison, and he’s only 3 :)   Rowan was so excited to meet this “new child,” as he kept saying.  Ha!  Anyway, the Transport museum is kind of pandemonium, and us adults did not get to absorb any information at all while there, because we were chasing kids around the whole time -- on double-decker busses, real train carriages, and then on a series of neat playscapes that were trains, boats, busses.  Cece had not been doing so well on our way to the museum, as she was “sleepy!!!!!” she kept saying, and so I carried her the last bit of the way there, and then we had a scare with her almost losing her new kitty, and she freaked out about that, but we found the kitty, and then she had a good time at the museum.  She did lie on my lap at the end, repeating how sleepy she was.  And sure enough, when we left, she instantly fell asleep in  the stroller, on our way to Coram’s Fields -- a massive, seven-acre playground.

Cece only slept for a bit, but Rowan and Fraser both ran around just trying to get a sense of what they wanted to do, before we could even focus their attention on eating the lunch we’d picked up first.  I am going to tie this post up soon, but suffice to say, Cece woke up soon and the jaunt to the park ended with both of my kids naked in a sandy water play area, thrilled with the fun they were having there.  

And to everyone back home in the U.S., happy Independence Day tomorrow! Tomorrow, I will write about my first afternoon and evening at the D. Hl Lawrence conference!

[artificialqueens]

Just the Game We're In- Chapter 6 (Ortega)

A/N: Hello lovely people! It’s been a bit of a long time, but here we finally have chapter 6! In this chapter, Willam starts back at Dosac after the Christmas holidays and, as Sharon makes her trip to Brussels, has to deal with an immediately hectic day as well as the consequences of Alyssa’s charity ball. As always: sorry for how long you have had to wait for this, rip in peace to mobile users who have to scroll past this, and a big thanks to the angels who cheered me on writing this chapter.

((Oh also!! I think this is the first time I’ve submitted since the fic awards , and even though they were fucking ages ago, I just wanted to say thank you to anyone that voted for me to win something or nominated me for a category. It felt really special and really made my day!))

Plot Summary: Willam is a senior political advisor to the government’s minister for social affairs and citizenship, Sharon Needles. Throw in a crush on co-worker Courtney, Sharon acting weird around Willam’s colleague Alaska, an incompetent press department headed by Actual Living Zombie Jinkx Monsoon, and Willam’s job couldn’t get much more stressful. No wonder spin doctor Bianca Del Rio is permanently at the end of her tether…

Willam sat on the edge of her bed fully dressed in her work clothes, watching the rain batter down against the outside of her window. She was almost there. All she had to do was leave her flat and get the 2 tubes that would take her to DoSAC. But something was stopping her, something that had completely sapped her motivation beyond anything she’d experienced before. For once, she didn’t know what she’d do when she arrived at work. She didn’t have the energy to speak to anyone, let alone carry out basic tasks. She had fallen into a routine of lying in her bed, the sheets having long been needing changed, and endlessly refreshing the BBC News app just to make sure the country wasn’t crumbling without her.

Blinking at the TV in front of her Willam saw the smiling face of Chi Chi DeVayne, obnoxiously cheerful for 7.45am.

“And we’ll be reporting throughout the next few days on Sharon Needles’ trip to Brussels, where she will present her policy pitch in an attempt to encourage Britain and indeed Europe to take an increased amount of refugees. It’s been causing quite a stir in parliament, but will it receive the seal of approval from Europe? Raja Gemini will have more on that at 1.”

Willam watched as a pre-recorded segment played of Sharon walking confidently through Heathrow airport, Violet and Alaska only two steps behind her. Willam felt an involuntary burn at her heart as she watched Sharon look over her shoulder and give Alaska a little smile, jealous of how happy they were together. Trying to be happy for them, Willam simply shook her head and sighed. The three of them would probably be sitting in the departures lounge by now, their flight not leaving til just after 8. Swiping up on the phone that was already in her hand, Willam shot a quick text to Alaska.

W: safe flight.

The two words were all she could manage.

Wanting nothing more than to fall back onto the mattress, Willam closed her eyes, allowing the same shitty memory to play in her head for the millionth time since she arrived home from Courtney’s flat that awful day.

Light was the first thing that Willam was aware of that morning.

The second thing was a dull thud of her head and a tense, knotted pain in her neck.

The third, fourth, fifth and so on came flooding into Willam’s mind like a tsunami, the events of the previous evening hitting her all at once like a car crash. Her heart began to rattle in her chest at the memories of Courtney’s lips on hers, Courtney pleading with her to stay, the warmth of Courtney’s body against her own as they fell asleep watching the snow fall.

Except Courtney wasn’t in the bed with her any more, the sheets and duvet seeming chilly as a result and in turn managing to churn Willam’s stomach a little as she thought of facing the events of last night. She couldn’t help her heart flutter with hope, though. Courtney had said there would be a next time, and had suggested that that next time would even be this morning. Surely Willam’s feelings were actually returned after all? Trying to supress a smile, Willam stood up and peered out of the window. The snow that had fallen before they had both drifted off to sleep had been vandalised by the current drizzle of rainfall, turning it to sludge that became more and more grey under the feet of the people that hurried up and down the busy street outside. Feeling a sense of childlike disappointment, Willam decided to make her way through to the kitchen, where she could hear the clatter of various cutlery and crockery indicating someone’s presence.

Padding through the carpeted corridor and onto the freezing black tiles, she tried to ignore the way the cold stung at her feet as she took in the sight of Courtney Act loading the dishwasher, hair piled up on top of her head in the messiest bun imaginable, last night’s smoky makeup smeared across her face like a Picasso painting of a panda, and still probably the most beautiful person Willam had ever seen. Sensing the arrival of someone else in the room, Courtney looked up and gave a bright smile.

“Morning, sunshine,” she beamed, laughing a little as Willam groaned and rubbed her neck in response. “Gosh, you’re a vision this morning. Do you want some coffee? There’s some brewing just now.”

Not yet trusting herself to speak, Willam simply nodded and took a seat at the breakfast bar that Courtney was currently hurrying around. Grabbing a huge cafetiere that held a considerable amount of inky black liquid, Courtney carried it from one kitchen counter and placed it in front of Willam, magicking two cups from a cupboard underneath the breakfast bar. As Courtney poured, Willam just sat and regarded the scene in front of her, part of her feeling like she was in a dream. She tried to think of something to say that would mean she wasn’t the one bringing up the events of last night first. As Courtney passed her a full cup, Willam decided to forego the milk and took a sip.

“So how are you feeling this morning?” she asked her, a little hesitantly. Courtney simply raised her eyebrows and exhaled.

“Like a can of shit,” she replied, taking a sip of her own drink. As if something had occurred to her, she smiled gratefully at Willam. “Thanks for looking after me last night.”

Willam wasn’t really sure if that was supposed to hold a certain undertone. Settling on a tone that was just a shade away from flirting, she shrugged and gave a smirk. “Oh, I mean, anytime. It was no problem at all.”

Courtney replied with a little laugh, her fingers curling round the handle of her cup. “I texted some of the comms girls to see if they wanted a Spoons. I feel like it’s the only thing that’ll save me right now. You down?”

Willam blinked a little. So clearly nothing was on the cards this morning. “Um, sure, yeah.”

A small chill went up her spine. Did Courtney even remember?

“I can lend you clothes and stuff and you can just give them back to me at work.”

Giving a lazy smile, Willam allowed herself to poke a little fun. “Oh, I don’t know, Court. Your size 10s would be hanging off me.”

Snorting a laugh, Courtney thumped Willam on the arm. “You’re the literal worst. I’m going to go get changed. Do you want to shower or do you want to just marinade in your own hungover sweat and fear from last night like I’m doing?”

Willam gave an anaemic laugh. “I’ll take the latter.”

Willam’s memory starts to filter out the events it seems to deign as unimportant from then on, and pictures blur in her head; Courtney shoving a simple jeans-and-top combo into Willam’s arms, Courtney lending her some pine-scented men’s aerosol deodorant (“It’s deodorant for Christ’s sake, it doesn’t have a gender”), Willam sitting on the bed for a few moments as Courtney left her alone to get changed and wondering what was going on inside Courtney’s head. Maybe she was just nervous like Willam was, tiptoeing around the subject of last night in complete parallel to Willam’s own thinking.

Satisfied with her reasoning, Willam got changed quickly. Her brain blurs out the details of what she did with her ball dress from the night before, but a Tesco bag stuffed with diamantes that sits in one corner of her studio flat solves that particular mystery. She met Courtney in the corridor and they left the flat together, braving the two- tube journey to Camden as it was home to the nearest Wetherspoons to Adore, who was apparently claiming that her head would fall off if she had to venture more than 10 metres from her flat.

It was when they were on the escalator that carried them out of the tube station and into the light of the rainy December day that it happened.

“I would commit a brutal murder for a Fanta right now,” Courtney whined, leaning against the rubbery handrail of the escalator. Willam smirked.

“You sound like Bianca,” she remarked, remembering the spin doctor’s bizarre love of the fizzy orange drink. “She actually looked half decent last night. I was quite surprised. Bitch has taste.”

Courtney tilted her head to the side and scrunched up her face. “Really? I mean, I wouldn’t know.”

Willam looked at her a little funny. “Oh, come on, Court. You must remember that blue gown, it was iconic. I don’t think the Daily Mail will ever stop talking about it.”

Courtney laughed and shook her head somewhat self-disparagingly. “Girl, I don’t remember anything from last night!”

And then Willam’s world had stopped completely dead. Nothing seemed to move, least of all her pulse which felt as if it was completely ice. She gave a sort of choked laugh, conscious of the knowledge she had to move the conversation along and act normal, but she could already feel her heart sinking very slowly into the pit of her stomach, lowered along with the hopes she had raised so high. “Wait, nothing at all?”

Courtney just shrugged. “Nothing past when we were chatting to Bianca and that ITV intern, and even that is just basically mush. Like I have no idea what I said or did,” Courtney shrugged, suddenly laughing and touching Willam’s arm. “I woke up and I was like…why the fuck is Willam in my bed?! I had to text Alaska. She told me you’d got me home safe, so you’ve got fifty good friend points from me. She gets none. Apparently she stayed with Sharon and…”

Willam began to tune out, her brain completely freezing over. She felt a sort of sick feeling rise in her throat. Vomit? No. Panic, embarrassment? She couldn’t distinguish her emotions any more. Everything was happening so quickly and yet in some form of horrific slow-motion. A scene from a horror movie playing out in front of her that she couldn’t look away from. All at once, Willam experienced what she would later describe as a fight or flight impulse. Looking down to the bottom of the escalator, her instincts grabbed at the latter.

Cutting Courtney off mid-sentence, Willam made her excuses. “I’ve just realised I’m, erm…left something…on the train. I need to go back and get it…I need to go….”

As the escalator reached its peak, Willam found herself rushing down the adjacent stairs, almost tripping down them in her haste to get away from the situation. Courtney was left bemused at the top of the staircase, bathed in daylight as Willam ran further into the underground.

She trudged back to her flat when the tube reached Clapham, the snow becoming ever more muddied underneath her feet and turning to dark sludge. As she got to her front door and climbed the two flights of stairs to her studio apartment, Willam felt it seemed overwhelmingly more depressing than usual.

The last thing she remembers from that day is lying back on her bed, hugging her arms tightly around herself, breathing in the scent of Courtney’s fabric conditioner against her skin and feeling as if her heart was rotting.  

Her heart hadn’t really returned to normal, she supposed, finally making to stand up from where she had been perched at the end of her bed and turning her TV off. Grabbing her coat off the back of her front door, she made to wrap herself up before a buzz from her phone stopped her in her tracks.

A: about to take off!! will keep you and Court updated. love you loads!!

Willam gave a half-smile of affection, before her heart turned gradually cold as she couldn’t help but hit the contact that appeared a couple of messages down.

C: Hope you found whatever it was you’d left! We all missed you so much at Spoons! Still so hungover lol x

C: Merry Christmas!! Don’t know anyone who deserves a holiday more than you! Hope you have the best day ever x

C: HAPPT NEW YEAR!!!!!! hope ths year is the BEDT EVEF you arw the best gal ib fbd worldxx

C: Trannnika and pealr mad e tsi punch and its like 99% teauila lololo wish yoh sere here wifb us I miss youuu xxxxxxxx

Willam’s heart felt heavy as she read each message that Courtney had sent since that day, the wall of cold grey from each individual text seeming somehow apt. She hadn’t once been able to bring herself to reply to any of them. How could she? She’d been an idiot, a total idiot caught up in some weird childish dream of a relationship that obviously was never going to happen. How could she have thought that anything good would come of a drunk evening together? It was the thinking process of an immature little girl; “a drunken mind speaks sober thoughts”, or sometimes a drunken mind just makes really poor, ill-judged decisions that would form into memories which would rapidly fade along with intoxication overnight, just like the snow that had turned to dirty, scummy water underneath Willam’s feet. Tucking her phone into her coat pocket, Willam wondered what she’d say to Courtney when she saw her at work. The very thought made her ribcage feel as if it was about an inch wide, constricting her lungs and her heart. Willam had spent the holiday period cursing herself for letting someone else in so far that they couldn’t leave her head, and now that she was less than an hour away from seeing Courtney for the first time since that evening she hated herself more than ever. Willam thought bitterly back to the days when her crush on Courtney had been easy to ignore, something that didn’t totally consume her.

Christ, she was so overwhelmingly stupid.

Heaving a sigh and turning the handle on her front door, Willam stepped out of her flat completely unprepared to face Courtney, never mind face the day.

Half an hour later, the dread that Willam had felt when she’d left the flat had only multiplied as she went from one tube station, then to another, and finally completed her rainy walk to Dosac. Her pulse was hammering underneath her wrists as she crossed from the entrance to the lifts, and the subsequent rise of the elevator only served to counter the sinking of her heart as the offices loomed ever closer. As Willam got out of the lift and began to make her way to the department, she began to wonder if this was what a heart attack felt like.

She was so wrapped up in her own anxiety that she almost jumped out of her skin when she turned the corner and sort of collided with Katya.

“Willam! Hey! Happy New Year! Bet you’re glad to be back in this glass-fronted hell hole,” the blonde had begun cheerfully, stopping when she saw what must have been visible panic on Willam’s face despite her best efforts to internalise everything. “Shit, is it really that bad?”

Willam only looked to the floor. She wished she could muster up something to say, but her nerves had an iron grip on her tongue. Katya narrowed her eyes.

“Hey girl, what’s the matter? You’re sort of scaring me. Well, even more than usual.”

She wanted to tell Katya. She wanted to tell her everything. Willam had never been closer to opening up to someone again in her life. Remembering how well that particular endeavour had gone in the past, however, she shook her damp, frizzy waves of hair out of her face and took a deep breath, putting on the front she was so well acquainted with.

“Sorry, Katya. I’m fine, honestly. I’m just…” Willam sighed. Her mouth had worked faster than her brain could catch up with and now she was reaching for an excuse. “…all this shit with the PM’s legacy is still ongoing, and I feel like this department is on tenterhooks until we find out who leaked to the opposition.”

Katya seemed to accept the excuse. “Well, it’s a shitty time, but we still don’t know if it came from within this department. We could be in the clear within the next couple of days. Isn’t Bianca on it?”

Willam exhaled sharply. “Bianca’s got the PM breathing down her neck about 101 different things at the moment. I doubt she’ll have room to breathe never mind do what she does best.”

“Yeah, I feel like her diet might be a little deficient in cabinet ministers for the foreseeable,” Katya laughed, hitting Willam on the back with the sleeve of her baggy cable-knit jumper. “Anyway, I was about to make some coffee for me and Trixie. I managed to avoid becoming the department barista, but I could make a special exception for a glum chum?”

Willam couldn’t help but muster a weak laugh at Katya’s turn of phrase. “I’ll have a tea with lacto free. Please don’t give me the shits. That would be how this day begins.”

Katya burst out laughing. “Give me some credit! I remember shit. I’m not Adore. I’m actually competent.”

Shaking her head, Willam continued down the corridor. Her conversation with Katya had served to lift her spirits, but replaying the conversation in her head only brought them back down. She hadn’t really been lying; politically, Dosac’s situation was dire too. The PM’s legacy had been spoilt; if the opposition had become privy to it before its release, it was basically unusable, and so it had been dropped by the party. Sharon had been called in front of Bianca after the leak of the PM’s legacy, interrogated to within an inch of her life. However, sure enough there was no proof that the leak to the opposition had come from Sharon’s department. Bianca had briefed so many cabinet ministers in a bid to prepare them to suck up to the policy. But Sharon was particularly in the frame because of her fierce opposition to it. There had been some rumblings of other newer ministers disliking it, but none had been foolish enough to speak out as loudly as Sharon had. Currently in Sharon’s case, she was guilty until proven innocent. Rumour had it that she had almost been forbidden to go to Brussels, however that had clearly either been untrue since its conception, or Bianca had changed her mind somehow. Willam was a little shocked that Sharon had still been allowed to go. It was clear that her outlook on the refugee crisis was jarringly different to the majority of the party’s, and it was only a matter of time before the media picked up on the cracks threatening to divide the party. However, as long as absolutely nothing about the PM’s legacy appeared in the papers, Willam would consider that a win. True to their word, Roxxxy and Detox had delivered, and Phi Phi’s press conference had been cancelled last-minute. Willam would have owed them one, if it wasn’t for the fact they were reprehensible human beings.

So the main atmosphere in the Dosac offices wasn’t going to be a particularly happy one until their department’s name was cleared. Almost wanting to laugh at how absolutely shit a situation both her personal and working lives were in, Willam swallowed her fear and turned a corner into the offices. The previously quiet working environment was disrupted by a cry of joy from the comms team, Trixie, Adore and even Jinkx all eager to welcome Willam back after the holidays.

“Happy New Year, bitch!” Trixie cried, her voice soaring over the other girls’. “God, we missed you on New Year’s eve. We almost crashed Jools Holland because Pearl said she knew this guy that worked on security for BBC that could’ve let us in, but Courtney passed out in a pool of her own sick so that idea got fucked to one side very quickly.”

“Jesus, Trixie, can you stop telling that story?” came a quiet Australian lilt from behind Willam. Turning quickly, she was struck by how embarrassed Courtney looked. Normally everyone’s drunk shenanigans got spread around the office like it was fair game, but Courtney seemed to take issue with it today. There was something else off about her too; something a little subdued and muted which contrasted her usually bubbly and lively self. All of this was an afterthought, however, to Willam’s heartbeat which was currently rocketing through her body at what was surely an unhealthy speed.

“Hey,” Willam found herself sort of blurting out, the nerves and pressure commanding her to say something. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year to you too,” Courtney gave a small smile, clearly making an effort to appear as if she felt totally normal. “Did you have a good holiday?”

Willam felt the memories of Christmas and New Year at her family home flash quickly through her mind all at once, the pain of just remembering them akin to that of a searing migraine. “Um. Well, you know, always good to get back into the swing of things, right?”

Courtney nodded understandingly as Willam retrospectively became aware of not having answered her question. Suddenly, she realised she hadn’t asked about Courtney’s own Christmas.

“How was yours?”

Courtney shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. “Oh, it was a classic Australian migrant Christmas. A grainy Skype connection of my family watching me open my presents and then ITV2’s finest selection of Christmas films in front of the sofa. I think the festivity of veggie chow mein for a Christmas dinner is highly underrated, don’t you?”

Willam watched as Courtney gave a small laugh. She couldn’t help her heart hurting. Courtney had spent Christmas alone?    

“Anyway, I’m looking forward to getting stuck right into budget refinement today. Truly why I entered the political sphere,” she shrugged, seemingly eager to move the conversation along. Willam could cope with that. The less time spent talking about the holidays, the better.

As Katya rounded the corner and shoved a pale cup of tea into Willam’s hands, Jinkx piped up from behind her monitor.

“So as all of us are now here, are we able to be briefed on the current situation with Sharon?”

Willam looked to Courtney, who was already looking to her. The department already seemed so lifeless without Sharon, Alaska, or even Violet, and Willam felt weird having only her and Courtney in charge of these four civil servants. Luckily Courtney opened her mouth, as Willam still didn’t really trust herself to speak. Katya, Trixie and Adore listened with intrigue, the three of them completely oblivious as to what was going on.

“Okay, so to those of you who may not know,” Courtney began, disregarding the fact that all but one of the comms team fell into that category. “The Prime Minister was meant to announce a policy which was to serve as his legacy in the New Year. Bianca briefed all the ministers on it. Sharon was very vocal about the fact she didn’t like the policy, and told Bianca she’d challenge it in parliament. Anyway, basically somehow the policy got leaked to the opposition. They were going to announce it before Christmas as one of theirs, but somehow they didn’t. It’s now no longer a party policy, for obvious reasons, but essentially Sharon is in the frame for leaking it.”

“Shit. Did she do it?” Adore gasped, seemingly in awe. Courtney pulled a face.

“She’s saying she didn’t, and we’re all hoping to God she’s telling the truth, but you know how politics works,” Willam spoke up, feeling unable to stay silent for much longer than she had been. “So the reason why we’re telling you guys is this- this hasn’t been caught by the media yet. The opposition haven’t leaked it because there’ll be too many questions as to why it wasn’t announced, and we haven’t leaked it because none of us have a fucking death wish. So if you start getting any calls about this, even a whiff, you need to tell us so we can sit on it.”

Katya giggled behind her hand. “Times like these I wish Darienne was still here. If she sat on something-”

“Katya, don’t make a shitty fat joke. This is serious shit,” Courtney snapped, shocking everyone save Jinkx who was still not quite fully awake. Katya blinked a little at Willam, who was too taken aback to even react. “If you get any calls about anything, no comment the shit out of it.”

Willam frowned a little. “Is that the best idea? Then the papers will know they’re onto something because we’re not denying it.”

“Well what else do we say, Willam?” Courtney asked, her tone not quite free of its bite from before.

Her brain hurt too much to come up with an alternative, so Willam simply shrugged.

“No comment. And tell us. That’s all we’re asking from you guys,” Courtney said firmly, making to return to her seat. Willam was still hovering by Trixie’s desk, and the other girl looked up at her from her place by the phone.

“Um…is Courtney okay?” Willam murmured, unable to ignore the fact that something was clearly up with her.

Trixie looked momentarily like she wanted to get something off her chest. Instead, she simply exhaled loudly. “…yeah. Yeah, no, she’s fine.”

Willam raised one eyebrow at Trixie, whose shoulders slumped forward in a sigh. “Look, just go talk to her. I think she’s embarrassed about the general events of New Years’.”

Adore took a break from typing away at her phone to interject. “She mentioned you a lot, Willam. Said you should’ve been there and that she missed you and all that-”

“I mean it was just classic drunk girl talk really,” Trixie interrupted, shooting Adore a look that Willam couldn’t quite decipher. “But she’s being a bit down on herself. You always seem to cheer her up, though. I think she’d be grateful for you.”

Willam hovered at the desk for a second before swallowing her nerves and crossing the office to go stand by another desk- Courtney’s this time. She was deep in concentration, a calculator in one hand and her mouse in the other, trying to shave a few more pounds off the budget Sharon had already planned out. She jumped a little as she registered Willam was at her side.

“Sorry,” Willam apologised, her voice quiet. “I just wanted to check up on you. You don’t seem yourself today.”

Courtney gave a small smile, appearing to appreciate the concern. “Oh, I’m honestly fine. Just wish Trixie would stop bringing up what happened at New Years’ to everyone.”

Willam wanted to point out that she’d only mentioned it once, but stopped herself. “Don’t be embarrassed, girl, it’s a Pearl Liaison party. People probably did far worse.”

Courtney laughed at a sudden memory. “Adore did start eating dog food at one point.”

Willam gagged. “That’s so, so much worse.”

Snorting a little, Courtney smiled up at Willam. “You’re a good friend. Thanks for making me feel less shitty about my life choices.”

She knew it was meant to be a genuine thank you, but every word felt like a knife in Willam’s stomach. Feeling a little sick, Willam just shot back a smile she hoped didn’t appear as fake as it felt.

“I’ll, um. Just get on with this budget then?” Courtney said quietly, something about her now appearing a little nervous. Silently, Willam nodded, hesitating a little before returning to her own seat and finally beginning her work, unsure if she felt worse or better than she had when she’d first arrived at work.

***

So far, the day had been manageable. They had made it to lunchtime unscathed, and Willam had been able to shave about 50p off the budget, which in budget-shaving terms was not the most horrific saving ever made. As a sort of celebration of making it to lunchtime of their first day back in the office, Trixie had bought them all cakes from Greggs as a treat, and the comms team and advisors were sitting together on their lunch break eating them. Willam couldn’t quite manage hers, still feeling as if she was walking on eggshells around Courtney, but the gesture was appreciated all the same.

“Do you guys not think it’s weird we’ve not had a visit from Bianca yet today? I would have thought this would have been her first port of call,” Courtney mused, nibbling a jam doughnut.

Willam exhaled noisily. “I doubt she’s out the PM’s office yet, to be honest.”

There was a pause as everyone munched. Jinkx broke the silence. “Can someone stick the telly on?”

“Oh, God no,” Willam groaned. “I don’t want to have to listen to fucking Raja Gemini tearing Sharon’s Brussels visit apart. She’s probably only been in one meeting but according to the BBC in that short time she’ll have anally fucked the country with a rubber fist.”

A roar of laughter came from the table, the truth of Willam’s statement hanging heavy in the air as it died down. The media hadn’t really warmed back to Sharon since her Five Live interview and they all knew a good summit in Brussels was what she needed. Adore spoke up without taking her eyes, or indeed fingers, off her phone.

“Violet texted me earlier. Apparently the hotel they’re staying in is amazing, I’m so jealous. The booking got completely fucked up though, so Vi’s in a room on her own and Sharon and Alaska have to share a double. How shit is that?”

Willam felt as if she’d been shocked with a tazer as the table all nodded and told their own shitty hotel experience stories. Taking her phone out of her pocket, she shot a text across to Alaska.

W: “Hi, my name’s Alaska-the-hotel-messed-up-our-booking-and-oh-no-me-and-Sharon-have-to-share-a-bed. Could I be any more cliché???”

Her phone buzzed almost instantly with a reply of three moon emojis from Alaska.

Just as Jinkx was launching into a story about a hotel room so mouldy it had allegedly given her husband asthma, a single phone began to ring from the comms desks. Willam looked at Courtney, her heart beginning to slowly sink into her chest and intuitively knowing that somehow, something was about to go down.

“Can someone get that?” Adore asked lazily, continuing to type into her phone. Jinkx narrowed her eyes at her.

“Why don’t you get it? It’s your job just as much as it is mine.”

“I’m on my lunch break.”

Trixie exploded a laugh. “We’re all on our lunch break.”

With an exaggerated sigh Katya slid off her chair in resignation, walking over to the phone and lifting it off the receiver. With a long-suffering smile, she answered it.

“Hello, Dosac, comms?” she sing-songed down the phone. Suddenly, her cheerful pink face became very ashen and grave. “…no, we are not prepared to comment on that at this particular moment in time. Thank you.”

Jumping a little, Katya sort of dropped the phone back in the receiver and looked back to the others, who were all still and silent.

“It probably won’t come to anything…” she began. With what bordered on comedic timing, two other phones began to ring. As more and more phones started ringing across the office, Willam swore and rushed over to her own desk, briefly meeting Courtney’s eyes and sharing a look of sheer panic. Lifting her own phone from the receiver, she was met with the voice of Ginger from The Mirror.

“Hi Ginger…no, no we’re not commenting on that at the moment. No, I can’t speak off the record. Is that all? Thank you. Bye.”

No sooner than Willam had put the phone down than it began to ring again. Stepping back, Willam only blinked at it in detachment. How had this happened? How had this got out?

Looking around the office, her eyes shot to Courtney, who had given an incredulous cry down the phone.

“What?!…No, I can categorically state that Sharon Needles will not be resigning over this! Goodbye!” she cried, slamming the phone down and looking across to comms. “We’re now getting calls about resigning? What the fuck is going on?!”

“Um, guys…” Adore said, her voice wavering a little. “Anyone checked the ITV website recently?”

After a beat of silence, the ringing phones were ignored as everyone flew to their computers, typing frantically. The biggest, boldest headline on the homepage of the ITV News website was,

“ITV EXCLUSIVE: SHARON NEEDLES LEAKS PRIME MINISTER’S “LEGACY” TO OPPOSITION, RAISES CALLS FOR RESIGNATION”

As Willam read, every line of the article contained every single detail; what the legacy had been, why Sharon had allegedly leaked it, what could or should happen now- and a quote from Phi Phi leading the charge for a resignation. Reading and re-reading as if she was in some horrific nightmare, Willam noticed a particular line that caught her attention.

“A source at Dosac said that Ms Needles was in the frame for the leak, stating that she had been opposed to the policy and had been willing to take any measures to stop it from going ahead,” Willam muttered under her breath, her brain feeling more scrambled than ever. As the comms team talked amongst themselves quietly, Willam caught Courtney’s eye and beckoned her over. Still as nervous as she was to be around her, there was something really weird going on, and with Sharon away and Bianca not around it was their job to solve it. Courtney click-clacked softly across the carpeted floor.

“Are you seeing the same thing I’m seeing here?” Willam asked her quietly, pointing to the line in question on the screen with a talon of a fake nail. Courtney pulled a face.

“I mean, I did wonder, but you know what the media are like, Will. They could’ve found someone who breathed outside the department once and they’d label it as ‘a source at Dosac’.”

Scrunching up her face, Willam tapped her foot on the floor, something about it still not sitting right. “I don’t know, Court. This is worrying me.”

“These girls are our friends. We know them. They wouldn’t go to the press about this kind of thing,” Courtney pleaded, her tone seeming to convey that something inside her agreed with what Willam was saying. Willam’s face softened. She knew that the last thing Courtney wanted to do was to accuse her friends of anything. Hell, it wasn’t on the top list of things Willam wanted to do either. But it was hard not to think anything else in the situation.

“Girl, this managed to stay silent from Alyssa’s ball to this morning. The moment we told those girls about what had happened, it was out by lunchtime. Is that a coincidence?”

Courtney’s face fell as she seemed to finally accept what Willam was saying. “So what do we do?”

Sighing and scrunching one side of her hair up with her hand, Willam thought about it. “They’re still our friends. I think we have to just be honest with them. I’m sure they’ll understand, they know how shit works in politics. Take them off the phones, email, maybe their own phones. It’s shit, but I don’t see anything else we can do.”

Heaving a sigh and rubbing the back of her neck, Courtney looked at Willam in despair. “Okay. Let’s tell them.”

Willam’s heart felt heavy as she walked over to the comms team. Today was already completely shit, and now she was about to accuse some of the nicest girls she’d worked with of being traitors. Thinking about it, she just couldn’t envisage any of them working in secret with the opposition or the media. Katya and Trixie had always worked for the civil service- they were always pretty nonplussed about what was happening in the department and weren’t really bothered about anything as long as they got to spend their working day together. Adore was Adore- just here for the fact that it was a steady job, hardly did any work anyway and spent most of the day on Facebook. If she barely had any energy to clear a paper jam, she certainly wouldn’t have the energy to orchestrate an elaborate plan to take down the government. Then there was Jinkx. With her domestic family life, husband and daughter, she couldn’t really see Jinkx caring enough about anything work-related to attempt to sabotage Sharon. It was a weird situation.

“So, you’ve all read the article,” Willam started, deciding to be the one to talk. “I’m sure you all know the bit that we’re going to refer to when we say that it’s put us in a kind of awkward position.”

The girls from comms looked at her in silence, recognition in their eyes. Willam took that as a cue to carry on.

“It sucks, because neither me or Court think you guys are involved in anything. But just as a precautionary measure, we need to take you guys off the phones. That means all phones, so no mobiles until we figure out what’s happening. And stay off the computers too.”

Jinkx’s face became screwed up and her stance instantly became defensive. “I’m sorry, Willam, but that’s ridiculous. Our job is communications, for Christ’s sake, we need to be able to communicate!”

“Well someone’s clearly been communicating to the wrong people,” Willam snapped, earning a glare from Trixie.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I thought you didn’t think any of us were involved, but that sounds like you’re accusing us of something?”

“Trix…” Katya soothed, resting a hand on her girlfriend’s arm. Still bristling with anger, Trixie sat at her desk with a thud.

“Willam didn’t mean that. You’re all our friends, we don’t mean to be accusatory at all. But we don’t know what else to do,” Courtney sighed, visibly upset with having to put her friends in this position.

Willam caught a glance of Adore typing rapidly into her phone. “Adore, come on. This is serious.”

Adore jumped a little, putting her phone face down on the desk. “Sorry! Look, not touching it now.”

Rolling her eyes, Willam scuffed her foot along the floor. “I’m sorry, guys. We don’t mean to make you out to be double agents. But that article’s got us really rattled. Look, just chill for now and me and Court will try to get a hold of Bianca to come help us out of this mess. Until then, please just bear with us?”

Shaking her head, Jinkx sat down at her desk and crossed her arms. “This is an absolute joke.”

Willam looked at Courtney and gave a loud exhale. She felt awful. Nothing about the situation made sense and yet they were having to work from nothing. It was all just a huge mess which managed to consist of nothing tangible, which was the most frustrating part.

“Right, you turn off the phones then phone Bianca and see if she can come by and help get us out of this mess,” Willam instructed Courtney, as an idea occurred to her. “I’m going to check out that article again.”

As Courtney searched for Bianca’s name in the contacts of her phone, Willam scrolled up to the top of the article to see who the author was. The name had some amount of recognition, but Willam couldn’t place how she knew it from. Walking back over to the comms girls, she was met with a frosty reception.

“Do any of you guys know a Valentina Leyva?” Willam asked, ignoring the atmosphere. All but Jinkx shook their heads.

“If it’s the girl that was an intern at ITV then yes. Bianca introduced us at Alyssa’s ball, remember?”

Willam blinked a little, trying to put a face to a name. Then suddenly, it clicked- the shy, seemingly sweet and harmless girl that had conversed politely with them didn’t seem to match the article that she had supposedly written. Trying to make sense of things, Willam ran a hand through her hair, turning away from the comms desks and loudly exhaling. Before she could piece anything together, her phone began to buzz in her hand. It was Sharon.

Dreading the voice on the other end of the line, Willam swiped across the screen to answer the call. “Hi, Sharon.”

“I want to know how in the space of one two hour long meeting I could come out with my phone absolutely red hot with calls, notifications and texts, all of which are calling me a party traitor and telling me to resign,” Sharon’s voice shook a little, betraying the cold, measured tone she was using.

“Yeah, um…it got out. Courtney’s phoning Bianca, she’s going to come round and we’re firefighting the whole thing. We’re on it, you’re not going to look like the bad guy for long,” Willam insisted, her stomach in knots. Trying her best to reassure Sharon was difficult when Willam didn’t even know if she could believe what she herself was saying. A huge sigh came down the line.

“The media fucking hate me already without me having this to contend with.”

“At least Buzzfeed loves you?” Willam tried to console her, remembering  Kimora Blac’s article that had appeared a few days after Alyssa’s ball; I met the Minister for Dosac Sharon Needles and yes, she really is as awesome as everyone on Twitter is saying.

“Fucking Buzzfeed! They’re a pack of gibbering lunatics!”

“Oh, come on, you weren’t saying that at Alyssa’s ball,” Willam couldn’t help but deadpan.

“Shut up, Willam,” Sharon snapped down the line, Willam instantly knowing that perhaps any kind of joke right now wouldn’t be ideal. “Jesus, is this how bad it is? I’m supposed to be fucking elated that I’ve got Buzzfeed on my side? God, this trip was supposed to be my comeback, some fucking redemption. Now I’m stuck in Brussels as my political credibility crumbles to death from afar?”

“Stop being melodramatic,” Willam rolled her eyes, eager to get back to solving the problem and hoping she could palm Sharon’s whining onto Alaska. “Politicians encounter shit like this all the time, the party’s just looking for someone to blame and you happen to be that person. It’ll all turn out fine, it always does! Just…keep slaying Brussels like I know you will be. They’ll love you.”

Sharon smirked quietly on the other end of the line. “As always, you’re amazing. Keep me updated, okay?”

As Sharon said goodbye and hung up, Willam was stuck with the feeling that the conversation had had a weird ending. She couldn’t think about it for too long, however, as Courtney was walking quickly over to her, phone in her hand.

“Bianca’s on her way,” she said, biting her lip and holding it between her teeth nervously. “She should be here soon.”

As Willam cast a glance at the annoyed comms team and back at the article sitting on the monitor’s screen, she could only hope that Courtney was right.

***

Bianca arrived into Dosac fifteen minutes later with a face like a hurricane and body language to match.

“I swear to Christ if this department is the cause of any more drama in this fucking government I’ll shove you all into a cannon and blow your bodies to bits,” she seethed by way of a greeting as she stormed towards Courtney’s desk. “I have had an incredibly stressful morning so I’d like to know, in as few words as possible, what in fuck is going on.”

Seemingly less scared and more comforted by Bianca’s presence, Courtney began talking. “So ITV’s source apparently came from within this department. Of course we don’t want to accuse anyone, but since it’s only us working at the moment, we’ve taken all comms off phones and email access.”

Bianca’s face twitched into a grimace. “So they’ve been standing about doing fuck all for half an hour but at least they haven’t been leaking like a new mother without a Tena Lady. Anything else I should know?”

“We’re trying to find intel on the girl that wrote the article. Valentina, you introduced us to her at Alyssa’s,” Willam cut in. In the time before Bianca’s arrival, Willam had managed to find her twitter account, but it seemed to be the generic tweets of a fresh new journalist- retweeting articles, offering her two cents every so often, and so on. There was nothing that Willam could really find to link her to anyone in the department.

“Right,” Bianca nodded, her eyes wide as she processed the information. Swiftly, she turned and bored her gaze into the comms team. “So which one of you fuckers was it then?”

Jinkx kicked her feet up onto her desk in a defiant manner. “I don’t know, Bianca, and I don’t bloody care. All I want is to get back to doing my fucking job, instead of pissing my life away doing absolutely bugger all when I could be in bed watching Loose Women. So please, hurry up and get solving this arseing mystery, before I pass out from cunting boredom.”

Willam blinked in shock at Jinkx. It was the most she’d ever head her swear and it would’ve been funny, were Bianca not looking at Jinkx as if she wanted to incinerate her. Opening her mouth, she looked as if she was about to scream at Jinkx so loudly that her face would drop off. She was stopped with a sort of pained gasp from Courtney.

“Right…” she began, looking at her monitor with a foreboding expression. “…the Guardian now have a timeline on their website…”

“A timeline? What the fuck?” Willam exclaimed, shock coursing through her whole body as if she’d been shocked by a defibrillator.

“…stating that Dosac’s press team have been taken off communications, and that Bianca has been seen coming into the building but not leaving.”

“Who the fuck is doing this?!” Willam cried, fighting the urge to push everything off her desk in a fit of rage and panic. She was completely unable to think, and everything seemed to be spiralling out of her control. Nothing about the situation made sense and the leaks only seemed to be getting bigger and bigger.

Bianca had stood frozen amidst the new information, her brain working overtime. After a pause, she spoke. “Okay, I am going to phone ITV and attempt to extract some information about this source out of them. Courtney, if you could phone the Guardian and do the same. Willam, if you keep digging about this Valentina girl and the connections she has to this department. And we might as well put comms back on the phones; one of them’s leaking despite preventative measures so we might as well have them do something other than completely fuck all.”

Nodding, Courtney walked briskly over to the switch for the phones and flicked it on. Immediately, every single one of them sprang to life, prompting the comms girls’ hands to fly to them and to immediately start talking. All except Adore, Willam realised, whose seat was empty. Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, Willam made her way towards Katya.

“Where did Adore go?” she asked her, trying to mask the urgency in her voice. Katya looked up at her, nonplussed.

“She didn’t say. Check the toilets?” she suggested, quickly taking whoever she had been talking to before off hold. Willam rushed out of the department, turned left down the corridor and walked quickly towards the toilets, when all of a sudden something made her stop- a flash of black material swept by the wind behind the glass-fronted fire escape door at the end of the hall. Slowly, Willam made her way towards the door, pushing down on the long handle and flinging it open. Adore stood on the platform that hung high in the air above the city below, leaning on the metal railing. She didn’t flinch. Her face was ghostly pale and she was dragging on a cigarette as she looked down at her phone, completely motionless. Willam took two steps towards her and leant against the railing, mirroring her body language.

“Do you want a cigarette?” Adore asked, her gaze not leaving her phone and her voice robotic. Willam shook her head, then realised Adore wouldn’t be able to see it.

There was a moment of silence as the wind whirled around them, the rain having been swept away from the city.

“Adore,” Willam said firmly, her voice betraying nothing. “Talk to me.”

Adore heaved a huge sigh, finally looking from her phone and tipping her head towards the sky. Squeezing her eyes shut, she squeaked out a single name in a voice that was thick with tears.

“Laila.”

The information hit Willam like a ton of bricks. It was so obvious, the journalist with a direct tie to the department in the form of an unsuspecting Adore. Wiping underneath her eyes with one finger, Adore carried on.

“I would just tell her about my day…keep her updated like girlfriends do…I thought she cared about me, but…”

The small fragments of feelings spilling from Adore’s mouth made Willam’s heart want to break. Gently, she prised Adore’s phone out of her hand and looked at the conversation on the screen.

L: Packed lunch in the fridge for u! xo

A: You’re the actual bomb dot com. Hope work’s going well xxx

L: Same old shit really. They’re trying to get me to write some article about beauty pageants for 6 year olds and I’d rather kill myself. You at work yet? Anything cool happening? Xo

A: Arrived a little while ago. Sharon’s apparently done something vaguely bad, idk I never pay attention to this stuff xxx

L: Shit will she get in trouble? Xo

A: It sounds pretty serious, apparently she leaked that policy that was meant to be the PM’s legacy?

L: !!!!!!

A: Oh wait

A: Apparently she didn’t actually do it but just being scapegoated

L: Aw alright, well she should be fine then!! Hope it doesn’t cause too much of a ballache for you babes xo

A: tysm angel xxx speak to you later xxx

A: also won’t be able to text until I’m out of work. They’ve taken us all off the phones bc of this leak thing. Have a good day xxx

As Willam read the conversation from the day, she felt her heart hurt for the younger girl. Clearly, Adore had fallen for Laila a lot harder than anyone had realised, and what they had was something verging on the domestic side of life. But it was apparent that Laila had sussed out the value of Adore as someone she could gain media intel from, a puppet she could play about with to get the information she wanted. In Laila, Adore had initially seen a newspaper journalist she could fuck to get onside, but it had obviously become so much more than that to her. Laila clearly knew the right things to say and do in order to make Adore believe that they had something special.

Willam glanced up from Adore’s screen as the civil servant let out a choked sob. “I was the one that told her about the fucking legacy. I overheard that day, when I came into the meeting room. I thought it was something exciting, I just wanted to share what was going on at work with her…I was the leak. I should be the one everyone’s yelling at, not Sharon.”

Sighing, Willam pulled Adore into a hug. Having one person walk around the department with their heart broken was bad enough, never mind two. Willam had so far been too wrapped up in her work to think in any depth about her feelings, but all of a sudden she was being so harshly exposed to this upset and hurt that it was hard not to let her own feelings back in to gnaw at her heart. Feeling Adore’s chest rise and fall rapidly as she cried, Willam couldn’t help but feel a little panicked. If she herself was hurting this much when Courtney hadn’t even expressed an interest in her, what could it be like in a relationship?

Had she dodged a massive bullet?

Shaking her head, Willam pulled out of the hug. “Hey. You don’t deserve to be shouted at, girl, okay? The only mistake you’ve made is getting involved with an asshole journalist. None of this is on you.”

Snuffling and, in the absence of a tissue, wiping her nose on the back of her hand, Adore looked to the metal grating of the fire escape floor sheepishly. “I was falling for her. I was going to tell her I loved her on our next date night.”

Willam felt like shit on Adore’s behalf. “I’m sorry, chick. You didn’t deserve her.”

They stood for a moment in the cool January air, Willam’s head now absent of thoughts. Instead, she didn’t know what to think. Here in front of her was the stark reality of love- pain and crying and upset and absolutely no control over any emotions. It was simultaneously too familiar and too foreign for Willam to comprehend. Shaking her head to chase away the memories that were threatening to flood her mind, Willam only clung tighter to the railing, how high up they both were hitting her with a stark clarity.

“Love sucks,” Adore said bluntly, stubbing out her cigarette and throwing it down into the city below. Willam thought about giving a snarky or sarcastic answer about how she wouldn’t know, but something moved her mouth for her.

“I know.”

Adore snapped her head around, giving her an inquisitive look. It seemed as if she was about to follow Willam’s comment up, so Willam decided to speak first.

“We need to go back in there.”

Adore sniffed, looking at the fire escape door as if it was the gates to hell. “Bianca’s going to fire me, isn’t she.”

Willam considered this for a second. “She won’t. You’re one of the few people I think she actually likes.”

“She doesn’t even know my name,” Adore snorted a laugh, once again wiping her nose on her hand. Willam cocked a smile at her.

“Course she does. She’s asked you to get her a Fanta millions of times.”

Willam smiled as she earned a small but genuine laugh from Adore. “I’m going to get yelled at though. Let’s be real.”

“Well, at least it won’t come as a surprise,” Willam pulled a face and shrugged. “Shall we go back in?”

“One second. I need to do something first,” Adore sighed, opening up the messages to Laila again and typing something Willam could faintly make out as,

A: We’re finished. Write a headline on that.

Smiling at her with reassurance, Willam laced her hand in Adore’s as they walked back into the warmth of the department together. As they rounded the corner into the offices, Willam felt Adore tense up beside her as Bianca whipped around to look at the both of them.

“Where did you two disappear off to? Don’t tell me you were fucking, I’d rather you didn’t do that shit at work.”

“Too late for some of us,” Trixie muttered under her breath to Katya, who had to visibly stifle her giggles. Focussing on Bianca, Willam attempted to come up with a way to explain the situation, but Adore spoke before she could even muster up her own voice.

“We found the leak,” she said bravely, standing up straight beside Willam. “It was me.”

Bianca blinked very slowly at Adore, as if she was processing what she’d said. “Pardon?”

Willam cut in before Adore could say any more. “What Adore means is…she’s not the leak. Well, not directly. She’s been seeing Laila McQueen from The Independent.”

She could see Bianca’s breathing becoming more and more laboured, as if she was trying to avoid going into cardiac arrest. Not being able to know if she’d explained herself properly, Willam continued talking.

“Seeing as in, in a relationship with her, not seeing as in leaking to her intentionally. She’d tell Laila stories from her work, from the department- just in the way that a girlfriend would do, not intending to spread anything. But of course Laila was just keen to get information, so Adore- without knowing it- leaked information to her. Like the comms team being taken off the phones, and Sharon being accused of the leak…and…” Willam attempted to bring herself to say it.

“The PM’s legacy,” Adore interrupted, her voice breaking very slightly at the end of her sentence. Courtney let out an audible gasp. Bianca ran her tongue slowly and deliberately over her teeth.

“Oh, well, that’s absolutely fine then. In fact why didn’t you just invite her into the department to spend the day with us? Give her a chip to install in the base of Sharon’s skull? Attach a massive novelty size satellite dish the size of the fucking international space station to the side of the building? You might as fucking well have!!” Bianca yelled, her voice rising to a terrifying crescendo as she laid into Adore, the girl just standing stoically and taking Bianca’s wrath. “Jesus fucking Christ, are you absolutely out of your tiny fucking mind?! Telling everything that goes on in a governmental department to a journalist?! I cannot fathom the levels of fucking unbounded ignorance that must take place for someone to do that!”

The department was silent as Adore stood and stared straight ahead, showing a remarkable amount of dignity for someone who Willam knew was crumbling inside. Taking a deep breath, Bianca appeared to try to regain composure.

“What do you know about her. We need to know everything. Because she must have a network, this- this can’t just be her work, it’d be all over her own website otherwise. There’s something more to this. Who does she know from ITV?” Bianca rounded on Adore, incessantly questioning. Adore shook her head.

“She never mentioned any names. She worked with a woman called Trinity, but that’s all I know in terms of workmates. She-” Adore winced as she appeared to realise something. “She hid her phone from me quite a lot, come to think of it.”

“Spare me the fucking sob story,” Bianca snapped, turning and facing the rest of the department. “I want every single fucking thing you can find about this Laila hack bitch immediately. I want her full fucking autobiography presented to me within the next ten minutes. Come on, get on it!”

Willam watched as Adore stood hesitantly, looking at Bianca for a second before deciding to dash to her desk. Willam’s heart went out to the girl. She knew how hurt she was and yet she was having to push through and get on with her work. Adore wasn’t the same kind of person that Willam was; she couldn’t throw herself into her job like she could, wasn’t able to use it as a complete distraction from everything that was going on in her life. She supposed that was something vaguely comforting about work, the fact that it could always serve to remove herself from her personal life. She’d been so distracted with her constant pining for Courtney that she had forgotten how much she genuinely did enjoy her job.

She’d zoned out so much that she’d missed Bianca talking to her.

“Hello? Is anyone in there? Anyone inside that abandoned building site of a brain of yours?” Bianca clicked her fingers in front of Willam’s unsuspecting gaze, causing her to blink.

“Sorry, Bianca. It’s all just…a lot.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Bianca raised her eyebrows, briefly showing a slightly vulnerable side which completely took Willam aback. “This has to be some sort of complex web. I mean, who’s going to listen to a 24 year old journalist who’s only been in the job for a matter of months? I don’t get it. There’s something that doesn’t sit quite right.”

Willam stood for a moment with the spin doctor as they both remained deep in thought. Something suddenly struck her, one that was so completely obvious but had perhaps been lost in the chaos and confusion of the past five minutes.

“Laila leaked that policy to the opposition,” Willam said blankly, Bianca suddenly jerking her head to look Willam in the eyes.

“You’re absolutely right,” Bianca said, her voice completely grave. Willam expected a surge of activity, energy, anything to indicate that Bianca had had a Sherlock moment where all the puzzle pieces just clicked and everything fell into place. Instead, she didn’t move. “But why? Why did she do that? There’s got to be a reason.”

“Money? Blackmail?”

“I can’t think of anything else,” Bianca said sagely, bringing one hand up and rubbing it against her cheek.

“Ladies,” Courtney called from her monitor. “Am I going totally insane, or could this mean something?”

Intrigued, Bianca and Willam shared a glance, then made their way to Courtney’s monitor. On the screen sat two pictures which made up part of a Daily Mail online article, which seemed to be about Alyssa’s charity ball. The first was of Sharon and Alaska, Sharon triumphantly holding a china monstrosity over her head as if it was the world cup. ‘Onto a winner- Minister Sharon Needles, pictured with one of her advisors, spends £2000 on a vase despite advocating for lower MP’s salary.’ was the caption.

“Fuck, they really will find anything to complain about,” Willam muttered disparagingly, before looking at the second picture. Straight away, she saw what Courtney had been talking about.

In the centre of the picture stood Phi Phi O’Hara, in the horrifically bridal-esque cream dress she’d been wearing that night and holding a glass of champagne. She was laughing as she chatted to a young girl on her right, with dark skin and a long, straight mane of flowing brown hair, who looked slightly smug. The girl from ITV, Valentina, stood on Phi Phi’s left side and was smiling in a sort of scheming way, as if she knew she had the upper hand over somebody. And there to Valentina’s left was Laila McQueen. She was the only one staring straight at the camera, and seemed to be the only one who knew the photo was being taken. As a result she looked a little taken aback, as if she had been caught doing something she wasn’t meant to be doing, or somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be. The caption read, “The new generation- Shadow Minister Phi Phi O’Hara talks politics with media newcomers Laila McQueen (The Independent), Valentina Leyva (ITV), and Naomi Smalls (The Telegraph) (l-r)”

Willam shared an intrigued glance with Courtney, as the Australian said exactly what she was thinking.

“Is it just me or does Laila look…suspicious?” she questioned, looking up at Bianca and meeting her glare. Courtney looked a little intimidated. “I mean, I could be reading too much into it-”

“No. You’re not. You don’t spend as many years in this line of work without getting to know the face of someone who’s been caught in the act, and that expression is written all over Laila McQueen’s face. She’s afraid in that picture. She knows she shouldn’t have been seen with Phi Phi,” Bianca cut Courtney off, her face deep in concentration. Willam was slightly afraid to even breathe in case she disturbed her train of thought. Bianca suddenly frowned, pointing at the screen. “Bring up this Naomi Smalls’ twitter account. I’ve got the most fucking bizzare idea ever, but it might work.”

Without missing a beat, Courtney brought up the profile of the young journalist. Bianca pointed a commanding finger next to the “Following” button, which Courtney dutifully clicked. Naomi’s recent follows read:

Valentina Leyva @allaboutvalentina

Laila McQueen @IndependentLaila

Thorgy Thor @thorgy_thor

Elizabeth Ruhren @BettyRuhren

Roberta Queen @bob.queen

Rt Hon Phi Phi O’Hara MP @PhiPhiOHaraMP

As Willam read the names and tried to connect the dots, it seemed as if Bianca got there before her.

“Fucking knew it! Rookie mistake, but an obvious one from a 23 year old,” she exclaimed, looking first at Willam and then to Courtney. Courtney seemed to understand too.

“The head of the opposition, their senior press officer, and their spin doctor…” Courtney began, her eyes wide as if trying to comprehend something. “And the other journalists she was speaking to that night…”

Willam could scarcely handle the situation any more. The web had become too tangled and twisted and weird, and if anything things were now more odd than before. She couldn’t think straight, and she struggled to work out why or how all these names were connected. Bianca seemed to hold the same mindset.

“Look, ladies,” she sighed, for once appearing totally at her wits’ end. “This is out of your domain. Fuck, it’s almost out of my domain. There’s nothing more I can ask you to do here, I need to go back to number ten and do some serious digging. These people are all connected in some sort of corrupt way, maybe Phi Phi’s got a hold on them somehow, I don’t know. What I do know is, for the next couple of hours before it reaches 5pm, you’re all better just trying to get on with whatever tasks Sharon left for you to do.”

Willam nodded, slightly in awe of the fact that for once, Bianca didn’t seem to have a concrete plan. “If you need us to do anything else, just phone me or Court.”

Bianca gave Willam a quick scan up and down. “Appreciated. You did well today, Willam. And you too, Courtney. You’re both assets to the department.”

With that, Bianca was on her way back down and around the corner that led her out of the department. Willam felt her heart swell up at the praise Bianca had given her, going some way to heal the hurt she was still carrying around from this morning. Being left alone with Courtney again didn’t seem to sting as much as it had all those hours ago.

“How does she expect us to just get on with fucking budgeting after all this?!” Courtney gasped, peering once again at who Naomi Smalls followed. “This is like the Agatha Christie of governmental drama. I can’t concentrate on anything else!”

Willam felt sort of detached. “Yeah, same. But, you know. Got to keep working on those figures.”

With the feeling that she wasn’t really part of the planet, Willam walked back to her own desk and sat down, aware that Courtney was looking at her curiously.

It seemed to have been the longest day of Willam’s life, and she couldn’t wait for it to end.

***

Willam tapped her heeled foot impatiently against the floor as the laptop screen held the promise of a Skype connection. These things could never really be deemed reliable, though, and so with every passing second Willam grew more irritated. It had been a rollercoaster 24 hours, and she was eager to give Sharon and Alaska a full update. Obviously noticing Willam’s body language, Courtney rested a gentle hand on her leg, which made Willam feel almost more jittery than before.

“Be patient. It’s just taking its time,” she urged her, lifting her hand from Willam’s thigh.

How did Willam feel about everything between her and Courtney since yesterday? The truth was, she wasn’t sure. Of course she still wasn’t completely over how humiliated she’d felt, and how much her heart still hurt when she was around her. Would that ever go away? Maybe. Maybe not. But what Willam did know was that work, even in the past 24 hours, had been an absolute blessing of a distraction. She wasn’t good at love but she was damn good at politics, and the first day back in the department had been so exciting despite the stress. She had forgotten how much she loved her job when she’d been too wrapped up in her feelings for Courtney, and her performance hadn’t been good. She’d tortured herself wondering about it all overnight when she should have been sleeping, and sitting in the meeting room today she still couldn’t come to a conclusion.

She did know that her heart still beat just that little bit faster as she sat so close beside Courtney, Jinkx on her right side frowning at the monitor.

“Maybe we need to sign in,” Jinkx offered, swiping her finger across the track pad with impatience.

“We’re already signed in,” Willam rolled her eyes, just as Sharon and Alaska popped up on the screen.

“Yay!” Courtney cried, throwing her hands up in happiness. “Hi guys! How is everything?”

“Fucking screeds better than yesterday, I’ll tell you that for nothing,” Sharon smiled ruefully, running a hand through her icy blonde hair. Her left hand sat at her side out of view in parallel to Alaska’s right, and Willam suspected they were holding hands. “Tell me everything! I want to know every detail.”

Willam scrunched her face up. “Well, we don’t really know that much. Bianca left the department on a mission at, like, three yesterday. We only woke up to all the headlines. She’s not even been in yet today, and it’s almost five so I don’t even know if we’ll see her.”

In true Bianca style, she had managed to uncover everything. In the morning after her fitful sleep Willam had awoken to various notifications from the BBC News app, and the headlines were damning. It had turned out that Phi Phi, Betty and Bob had created a “graduate journalist funding scheme” for young faces in the media, which was a thinly-veiled disguise for “we give you money, you acquire information/write favourable headlines for us”. Naomi, Valentina, and indeed Laila were all involved, and it appeared that the arrangements didn’t just end with young new journalists- Thorgy Thor, a print journalist for The Guardian, was also highly implicated, as was Alexis Michelle from The Times who had reportedly been seen at dinner with Bob at a ridiculously expensive Mayfair restaurant. Basically, the newspapers were in chaos; nobody knew whose side who was on, or what allegiances existed, or which paper leaned which way anymore. What had been made clear was that none of the “funded” journalists were in work anymore, and that the opposition was under major scrutiny. Sharon smiled as she heard the news, leaning back a little on the hotel double bed both she and Alaska were sitting on.

“God, I doubt I’ll ever say this again but I could kiss Bianca Del Rio very emphatically on the mouth.”

Willam seemed to be the only one that noticed the fake warning look that Alaska shot Sharon’s way.

“Well, we certainly owe her a lot of thanks. I suspect you’ll be given a hero’s welcome when you get back then?” Jinkx smiled, clearly happy that Sharon’s name had been cleared. Sharon gave a loud exhale and rolled her eyes.

“Is that a joke? It’ll be business as usual. I doubt anyone that works in Westminster even knows the meaning of the word ‘sorry’. Still, I’ve got a skype interview with my BFF Chad Michaels at 10 and I can’t wait to drag Phi Phi’s name through the mud.”

Willam snorted a laugh at Sharon’s vindictiveness. “What about Brussels, then? I hear the debate went well yesterday.”

Alaska instantly jumped in, obviously bursting with pride. “I don’t think she’ll be welcome in Spain anytime soon. She absolutely wiped the floor with Alexis Mateo. Dettol Wipes ain’t got shit on her.”

The two girls both laughed, Sharon pushing Alaska playfully on the shoulder.

“Well, it’s good practice for the party conference whatever the result,” Courtney smiled encouragingly. Willam gave her a sideways glance and laughed a little.

“Court, that’s not til March.”

“Early March!” Courtney insisted, her eyes wide. Turning back to the screen, she continued. “Anyway, I’m not worried about your performance. Policy presentation tomorrow then?”

Sharon gave a nervous sigh as she nodded her head, her entire aura changing into one of anxiety. Alaska gave her a comforting smile. “She’s going to be fine. She’s practiced it so much I’m sick of hearing about the damn thing.”

Sharon smirked at her girlfriend, clearly attempting to be annoyed at her and failing. Willam smiled involuntarily at their display of affection, little as it was. She didn’t feel as jealous of them both as she had yesterday. “You’ll be alright. We’ll keep bigging you up to everyone tomorrow and the media should love you by the time you’re back.”

“Thanks, guys. You’re doing great,” Sharon smiled at the three of them through the tiny webcam.

“So do you have anything nice planned for this evening?” Jinkx asked, clearly eager to divert the conversation from anything work-related at any possible opportunity.

“We’re both going to this really nice restaurant that the French Prime Minister recommended,” Alaska smiled, batting her eyelashes and making fun of her own immodesty.

“Alright for some,” Courtney raised her eyebrows, impressed. “Violet not going with you?”

Both Sharon and Alaska seemed to freeze, as if they’d both forgotten poor Violet existed. Sharon turned out her best excuse. “Oh, she’s been a bit headachey today, so I think she’s just staying in the hotel.”

“Well, give her our best. And good luck for tomorrow!” Jinkx said.

“They don’t need luck. You guys’ll be fine. Speak to you both tomorrow,” Willam said by way of a goodbye, allowing Courtney and Jinkx to wave at the two girls on the other end of the line before closing the laptop shut. Heaving a sigh of relief, Courtney lay back in her chair.

“Well, I still maintain that those two are fucking,” she shrugged, before rising from her chair and lifting the laptop from the table.

“For Christ’s sake Court, don’t be ridiculous,” Willam bit back a little too quickly in her haste to protect Alaska, causing Courtney to sort of stop and blink at her a little. The atmosphere grew frosty, and was only interrupted by a knock on the glass door of the meeting room. Turning around Willam saw that it was Bianca, looking a lot less stressed than she had been yesterday.

“There’s the department’s saviour!” Jinkx cried, seemingly happy for the icebreaker. Bianca gave her a rare smile.

“Did you see Phi Phi on the lunchtime news with Raja? I’ve seen maggots that squirmed less. Talking about how ‘the person responsible is being dealt with’, but we all know it’ll be a fucking intern that’s been there for the space of five days that’ll be let go to make up the numbers,” Bianca laughed derisively, earning a snort from Willam herself.

“Did you come here to celebrate with us, or was there something you wanted to talk to us about?” she asked, part of her dreading what the answer would be.

Bianca turned to face Willam directly. “Yeah, actually. I came to speak to you.”

Willam shared a glance with both Jinkx and then Courtney. “Um…okay. Just me?”

“Yes,” Bianca nodded firmly, looking then at Courtney and Jinkx. “So if you two could please make like a tree and fuck off.”

With a muttered “charming” from Jinkx the two others left the meeting room, leaving Bianca and Willam alone. Willam couldn’t help but feel apprehensive, getting the feeling that somehow she was in trouble despite not having done anything.

“I’ve always found you to be one of the best advisors in the department, Willam. Well in fact, the party,” Bianca started off, folding her arms across her chest. Willam was slightly shocked, but mostly her heart was full of something she hadn’t really felt properly in a while. Pride. She knew she was good at her job, but she’d had no idea she was that good. Bianca continued on, seeing Willam’s slightly shocked expression. “Your performance yesterday was excellent, what I know you’re capable of. You’ve had a weird couple of months work-wise, but yesterday you showed real promise.”

“Well, erm,” Willam began, struggling to bullshit an excuse. “Maybe I just needed some time away from work.”

Instantly cursing herself for a lie of such incredible proportions, she watched as Bianca uncrossed her arms and raised her eyebrows.

“Well, whatever you did on holiday that made you bring your a-game back to work, keep doing it,” she said, pausing for a moment before getting to what seemed to be her main point. “You know in a couple of months, there’s going to be a few open positions at number 10. Advisory stuff, things like that. The PM’s looking to get some new blood in. Keep doing what you’re doing and maybe we could see about getting you in there. If that’s something you’re interested in, of course.”

Willam’s heart almost stopped. She opened her mouth to try and speak, but nothing seemed to want to come out. Instead she just nodded, barely trusting herself to let any words out.

“Great. Well, stay at that high level you’re at now. I’ll see you tomorrow, I’ve got to go and speak to Adore,” Bianca said, opening the door back into the department and leaving Willam completely on her own.

Immediately, Willam couldn’t feel anything else other than an all-encompassing feeling of euphoria. She’d been noticed, and had received affirmation that she was actually good at her job, fuck, amazing at her job. She was finally getting an indication that things might be looking up for her and that she might be moving on to bigger and better things, moving up the ladder like she’d always wanted. It was the best news she could’ve hoped for, and just the motivation she needed.

She stumbled out of the office slightly in a daze, barely noticing Courtney come up to her at her side. Trying to conceal how happy she was, Willam turned to her friend. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Courtney started, her voice seeming nervous. She clasped her hands together and took a deep breath before speaking again. “Um…are we okay?”

Willam was a little taken aback. She thought that Courtney’s question had come out of the blue, but looking back on the past few days she had been a little offhand with her, a bit blunt and abrupt and bordering on rude. Feeling a little guilty, Willam finally concluded that it wasn’t Courtney’s fault that she didn’t remember a stupid drunk kiss. She couldn’t take her own feelings of rejection out on Courtney forever.

“Yeah. Yeah, course we’re okay. Sorry I’ve been kinda shit the past couple of days. Just…glad to be back at work,” Willam sighed, smiling at Courtney who gave a relieved smile back.

“Good. I’m glad you’re alright,” she beamed, Willam being annoyed at the warmth that Courtney’s smile still gave her heart. “What did Bianca want?”

“Oh, nothing really. She was just speaking to me about policy stuff. She’s with Adore now though. No idea why.”

The two girls looked down the corridor where Bianca and Adore stood together, Adore giving a little smile up at the spin doctor. Neither of them could consider it for long though, as a gasp that was sort of mixed with a cry came from Trixie’s desk.

“Oh my God,” she said breathlessly, looking down at her phone. Katya was craning her neck trying to read the message on it, and Jinkx was standing up at her desk as if she would glean more information. Trixie looked up and glanced at everyone in the department, her face completely crestfallen. “Trannika’s been fired.”

***

Shivering in the cold night’s air, Willam pulled her coat closer around her and leant over to Katya, the cigarette gripped between her top and bottom lip as the other girl held her lighter underneath it. She never usually smoked, but she’d make an exception for this evening. She somehow felt as if she needed it, and she wasn’t exactly short of people she could bum a cigarette from. Currently it was her, Katya, Adore and Trannika outside their usual pub, huddled together like penguins around the huge silver beer keg that served as both a table and an ashtray. It had been the only logical place to go after work given Trannika’s news, and although Willam still didn’t consider herself close with the girl in any way, the promise of a glass of red had been incredibly enticing. Courtney, Trixie and even Jinkx were back inside gathered in the corner on their usual sofas, and Pearl had joined them too as soon as she’d come out of work. They had all been drinking for a good couple of hours now, Pearl being the biggest enabler, and Willam would undoubtedly regret it all tomorrow. Still, she supposed the amount of alcohol in her bloodstream would help her get a good night’s sleep if nothing else.

“You should go on This Morning. Tell the world your harrowing story,” Katya was telling Trannika, the three girls having spent the past ten minutes outside insisting the opposition comms member had a claim for unfair dismissal. Trannika laughed and shook her head, flicking some ash from the end of her own cigarette.

“It’s Jeremy fuckin’ Kyle I’m needing. Although he would shout at me for being on the dole.”

“You’re not on the bloody dole,” Katya rolled her eyes, shoving the brunette’s shoulder with an unexpected amount of force. Trannika’s eyes grew suddenly wide.

“Well I’m unemployed, aren’t I? Sounds like a great life though. Spend all day pissing my life away on the sofa eating crisps and watching Bargain Hunt sounds a lot better than pissing my life away working for Phi Phi.”

Adore frowned deeply, stubbing her own cigarette out on the beer keg. “I still think you have grounds for a court case.”

“Adore, I am not taking a fucking millionare’s daughter to court,” Trannika gave her a pointed look. “Besides, it’s a blessing in disguise. I fucking hated that job with every fibre of my being. Literally the only pleasure I got from it was leaking to you guys. They needed someone to make it look like they were dealing with the problem, and that person just happened to be me. I get it. It’s the way it goes.”

“I’d love to see Phi Phi in court, though. She’d go up in flames as soon as she put her hand on the bible,” Willam snorted.

“Bianca would appear to welcome her to hell,” Katya joined in as the others laughed. That made Willam think of something.

“Hey, what did Bianca want to speak to you about earlier, anyway?” she asked, turning to Adore. The younger girl pulled a face and shrugged.

“Oh, that. Um, it was kinda weird. She apologised to me for yelling at me yesterday.”

Willam’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Bianca…apologised?!”

“Yeah, I said it was weird. Anyway she said she hoped I was alright and that she was always there if I needed to talk about anything,” Adore shrugged, mumbling a little and looking to the ground. Katya and Willam shared an awed glance.

“We’re talking about Bianca Del Rio? The woman that once told me that if I didn’t produce a coffee for her within the space of five minutes she’d saw off my hands?” Katya blinked in disbelief.

“Yes! Who else would I be talking about? Bianca Gascoyne? Bianca from fucking Animal Crossing?” Adore said, a little irritated. Willam gave a laugh.

“So that’s your rebound sorted then? Our favourite member of the governmental sphere?”

Adore gave Willam a look that communicated she was done with her shit.

“No. I told you guys, that was ages ago. I don’t like Bianca like that anymore,” Adore insisted, the softness of her voice threatening to betray her. Willam decided not to push her for any more. She’d had a tough couple of days.

“Good idea. I’ve always thought workplace relationships were highly unprofessional,” Katya deadpanned, eager to lighten the mood a little.

“How are you coping, though, girl?” Trannika asked her, obviously thinking the same as Willam. Adore gave a bitter laugh.

“Well I went home and cried for a solid two hours last night. Cried in the bathroom today at work. Haven’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday. Overall I’d say I’m doing well,” she smirked self-depreciatingly. Willam gave her a sympathetic smile. In true Trannika fashion, she stubbed her cigarette out decisively and looped her arm through Adore’s.

“You know what the solution to a broken heart is?” she said, pausing for effect. “Alcohol. Let’s go get shots.”

With that, Trannika and Adore were gone, leaving the two blondes alone outside.

“So, um…how’s your own love life going?” Katya asked Willam with a coy smile. Tipping her head to the sky, Willam rolled her eyes at just how predictable her friend was.

“I fucking knew you were going to ask me that,” she shook her head, taking another drag. Looking at Katya’s expectant face, Willam gave a sort of laugh of disbelief and shook her head. “There’s been no progress, okay? There you are. There’s your answer. You have nothing to work with.”

Katya looked to the floor, muttering something under her breath. “That’s not what I heard.”

Willam’s heart felt a little like it was going into cardiac arrest. “What do you mean? Are people talking about us?”

Katya waved her hands in front of her, presumably in an attempt to calm Willam down. “No, no, no, nobody’s talking about it. You’re fine. All it was was…”

Katya stopped and bit her lip, appearing not to want to say what she had planned. Willam wanted to seem as if she couldn’t care less about what Katya was going to tell her, but her face completely betrayed her- her were wide with suspense, mouth hanging open just a little as she waited for Katya to continue. Letting out a held breath, Katya carried on.

“God she’ll kill me if she knew I was telling you this…at New Year, Court literally wouldn’t shut up about you.”

Willam’s heart was going at roughly the speed of a runaway train. She was quiet for a few seconds, trying to process the information, but her mind was working too fast for her to be able to do so.

“What was she saying?”

“She’d bring you up at every opportunity. ‘Oh, Willam loves this song!’ ‘Oh, Willam once told me about a cocktail you can make with whisky, vodka and tomato juice!’ ‘I wish Willam was here!’ ‘Willam would’ve loved this!’. Like…you were like 70% of all she talked about that night.”

Willam was confused. Scrunching her eyes shut and shaking her head, she tried to correlate that Courtney to the Courtney who had woken up with no memory of Alyssa’s ball. It didn’t seem to make sense, and if what Katya was saying was true, then Court’s behaviour didn’t add up.

“Well, she hasn’t said anything to me,” Willam finally said, not allowing her face to betray any of her feelings.

“Give it time.”

Looking up to the stars that were beginning to emerge in the sky, Willam thought about Trannika and Adore. A casualty of work and a casualty of love, respectively. Trannika would be fine; she could always go and get another job somewhere else, and her experience working for the opposition was valuable on any CV. She seemed to be taking it in her stride, all things considered. Adore was different. She hadn’t healed yet, and it would certainly be a while until she recovered from her breakup. She wasn’t in control of her feelings in any way. Trannika could just go and find another job, but Adore couldn’t immediately move on to someone new without healing first.  

Willam couldn’t help but think about her own situation.

Stubbing her cigarette out on the beer keg, Katya turned to Willam, having allowed her some time to think in silence. “Should we head back inside? I’m freezing my not inconsiderable tits off out here.”

Without speaking, Willam simply nodded and crushed her own dead cigarette under her foot. Following behind Katya she walked back inside the pub, her head full of questions she didn’t have the answers to yet.

[paharvey99]

No Waitrose October 6 - Day 30

Day 30

I had big plans today. I also had a three year-old today. The presence of the latter meant the bigness of the former was considerably reduced. All of which is a convoluted way of saying that the three year-old I live with was not in the mood to do anything.

The other person I live with went to work pretty early, so I did a cheeky bit of work while CBeebies did a cheeky bit of childcare. I had a few tasks for the day, namely – buy loo roll from the supermarket; collect hearing aid batteries from the doctors; take delivery of and test out efficiency of new dehumidifier. Nothing too taxing, but I couldn’t get the three year-old I live with excited about any of them. She simply did not want to go out of the house for any reason whatsoever.

“Shall we go out to the park?”

“No.”

“Shall we go to a café?”

“No, stay here.”

“Shall we go to a café for ice cream?”

“No, I want to stay inside and play picnics.”

So it was that I spent the morning surrounded by stuffed animals, pretending to eat. I decided to regroup for another sustained effort to leave the house after lunch.

Lunch was red pasta with cheese, ie pasta in tomato sauce with cheese. The three year-old I live with was adamant that was what she wanted, and she wasn’t lying. She had pretty much a full adult portion, it was impressive.

Straight after lunch, I heard the letterbox go. I could see a delivery card for the dehumidifier I ordered yesterday. I wasn’t expecting it to turn up so quickly, I’m not sure why. But if that was a delivery card, does that mean they’re not delivering it? Why couldn’t they ring the bloody bell, I’m in! I ran to the door to try to catch the delivery person, snatched up the delivery card and noticed the words “LEFT NEXT DOOR” scrawled across it. Why have they left it next door, I’M BLOODY IN. I wrenched the door open to go next door in a huff, only to find the dehumidifier sitting there on the doormat. Why had they written “LEFT NEXT DOOR”? Why hadn’t they rung the bell and just said “Here is the thing you ordered”? How had this become an infuriating experience?

“Oooooh!”, said the three year-old I live with as I dragged the box into the flat. “What’s thaaat?”. She seemed pretty excited about the dehumidifier, so I decided to go along with it. “It’s a super exciting DEHUMIDIFIER! Wow!”, I said. “It’s a special box that turns DAMP AIR into WATER! Shazam!”

“Oooooh!”, came the reply. “Can we turn it on?” Luckily, turning on the dehumidifier was my exact plan, so we did that and gazed at it in admiration for a bit. Then we both got a bit bored of the dehumidifier and I realised I was running out of time in which to get the rest of my tasks done. I decided to play the nuclear option, ie the option I use pretty much every time I need to get out of the house.

“Do you want to buy a…” and my voice hushed to a whisper out of shame in what I was about to stoop to, “…a magazine?” “Yes”, came the reply and the three year-old I live with immediately and without question went and got dressed and we left the flat.

I wanted to go to the big Sainsburys and do a nice big shop, and the three year-old I live with had said she wanted to do that too, so I went and opened the car door for her and she got in the car and then stopped, and got back out.

“No. I not going in the car. I walking.” Erm, okay. Tesco at the end of the street it is. We had a disagreement over which magazine would be best before eventually settling on the CBeebies one. Then, loo roll. There was some Andrex on offer, thankfully. The main reason I had wanted to go to the big Sainsburys was to get a massive thing of loo roll. It’s always twice the price in a Tesco Express, it’s a right swizz - apart from today, when it wasn’t.

We headed from Tesco to the doctors to get some hearing aid batteries. You get the batteries free on the NHS. I didn’t realise this for the first five years I wore hearing aids, I must have spent something like £150 unnecessarily in Boots. Thankfully I worked it out and now I turn up with a little book that gets signed and I get enough batteries for a few months.

On the way to the doctors to get the batteries we had to walk past the park. Despite having earlier said she didn’t want to go in the park, when faced with the reality of the park right there in front of her, it turned out that the three year-old I live with did want to go to the park after all. We had lots of races in the park and the three year-old I live with was very successful, I believe she won every one.

We picked up the batteries from the doctors and got home, where I started making tea for everyone. I made a chicken, potato and vegetable traybake type thing, with some sausages for the three year-old I live with. She had sausages, potato and peas, which is a pretty standard tea round these parts.

After tea the three year-old I live with was tired and wanted to watch the CBeebies programme Footy Pups on repeat forever, but I put a stop to things after about an hour and we went into the bedroom and had another look at the dehumidifier. The three year-old I live with couldn’t quite remember what it was called, so referred to it as the moisturiser, which I enjoyed. Then the person I live with got home and I told her what we’d been up to, at which point I realised quite how little we had actually done today. That’s okay though I think, it’s nice to be a bit boring sometimes, it’s good for your head.

Didn’t go to Waitrose.