#i was stuck between strawberry and st denis

[raccoonscity]

Make Me Choose: Favorite Town in RDR2 → Saint Denis (asked by @hereticstations)

[theeverlastingshade]

Pitchfork Music Festival 2021 Recap

This year I finally attended the full 3 day Pitchfork Music Festival after years of deliberation. There's no way my enjoyment of the experience wasn't compounded due to live music having been on hiatus in the United States since March 2020, but I suspect that I would have enjoyed it all the same if that hiatus hadn't transpired. Pitchfork put on an impressive festival defined by  a superbly paced, and varied roster of some of the most exciting up and coming artists, legacy artists, and plenty in between. While not a perfect festival by any means, Pitchfork nonetheless showcased what was close to a small to mid-size festival ideal.

Each day was paced well, alternating between sets from acts on either the green or red stage juxtaposed with electronic or folk acts on the blue stage across the park. Friday alternated between the weirder, artier folk/pop acts and various electronic producers running the gamut from the headier, house strain of The Soft Pink Truth, to the skull rattling rush of techno from Yaeji. The pacing between sets worked pretty well, and the only substantial runoff was Yaeji's relentless low-end creeping into Big Thief's set (and again on Sunday with FlyLo's music bleeding into Cat Power's set). For the most part, nothing felt particularly overwrought or ill-considered from a booking or performance perspective, and the day consisted of the sort of purposeful curation that just isn't common at most music festivals at this point in time.

The heavier acts were generally relegated to earlier slots, (with the exception of Ty Segall Freedom Band on Saturday) while the bulk of legacy acts and zeitgeisty up and coming artists performed later in the day. It's hard to deny that many artists really brought it like Dogleg, but at this point in Pitchfork’s existence a melodic hardcore/emo band isn't going to be granted more than an earlier/mid-afternoon slot. The diversity of the artists was far more varied than could have reasonably been expected from a post-Conde Nast curated lineup, but the lack of metal, shoegaze, drone, or noise was still a bit of a letdown.

Dogleg were an exceptional early set that blew most of the following artists away. The bulk of their setlist came from their 2020 debut LP, Melee, and it all translated as well to a live setting as could have been expected from that kind of high-wire energy. They also seemed like one of, if not the closest band to exemplify aspiring rock stardom, and they delivered a raucous set filled with cartwheels and windmills, and other kinds of fun guitar antics that bands just don't seem interested (or capable) of executing. The vocals were a little rough around the edges in spots, but they played with remarkable dexterity and chemistry, making a strong case for the staying power of capital-B bands in an era where the solo artist still reigns supreme.

The first electronic act of the festival that completely blew me away was Drew Daniels, aka The Soft Pink Truth. Daniels drew the most from his latest and finest LP, Shall We Go On Sinning So That Grace May Increase, fleshing out the music with a more aggressive low-end that complemented the ambience of the songs beautifully while giving them a heightened edge. The songs continued to build to ecstatic heights without losing their shape, and each flowed superbly into the next without the stiches ever showing. Towards the end of his set Daniels began to draw more from his great 2014 black metal influenced record, Why Do the Heathen Rage? for some of the most chaotic, and eclectic mixing that transpired all weekend.

Even with the absence of founding member and guitarist Matt Kwasniewski-Kelvin, black midi were as great as they've ever sounded, this time rounding out their lineup with a keyboardist and a saxophone player, which is only to be expected given the more prog-leaning approach that they took on their latest LP, Cavalcade. Although a band like black midi is best suited for a seedy, beer stained club than any kind of outdoor festival the new material translated well to this specific context. The songs on Cavalcade are more sprawling, and lend themselves better to lengthier jamming than their earlier material. Throughout their set, black midi managed to breathe some fresh new life into these songs without ever quite extending anything past its welcome. They remain a satisfying anomaly at a festival like Pitchfork, and within the greater sphere of contemporary music as a whole.

The most unpredictable, and satisfying set of the night came from Animal Collective. They returned to Pitchfork with the full-band, four piece setup that was somewhat reminiscent of their dynamic while touring the material for their 2005 opus, Feels, with the exception of Deakin primarily playing keys and synths instead of guitar (except throughout highlights "The Purple Bottle and the "Grass" b-side, "Fickle Cycle", both from that aforementioned era). In proper fashion, they predominantly played new material, which took the form of lounge-flecked psychedelia that continues to make good on their path towards jam band ascension. Aside from the Feels era cuts they also performed Merriweather Post Pavilion cuts "In the Flowers" and "No More Runnin'", and “Unsolved Mysteries” from Strawberry Jam. It was thrilling to hear Panda Bear behind the kit bashing out tight floor tom/cymbal rolls, and Geologist occasionally abandoning his rig for some time with the Hurdy Gurdy. They capped off their set with "The Purple Bottle", and Avey was in top form singing and shrieking his way through the jubilance with tight precision. There are very few bands that continually change their setup, challenge audience expectations, and experiment with form even in the midst of live performances quite like Animal Collective, and on Friday it payed off remarkably.

There are also very few active bands that display the kind of immense inmate chemistry that Big Thief have, and it was palpable throughout their entire set. The band drew from all four of their albums, leaning heaviest on their exceptional pair of 2019 records, U.F.O.F. and Two Hands, with a few great new/previously unreleased songs thrown in. Their most stirring performance arrived with "Spun Infinity", a Lenker solo song that the band helped build into a rousing sing along. They've played it both times that I've seen them, and it's grown in potency each time that they played it (here's hoping it makes that next record). They delivered highlights from both spectrums of their sound, from the lush sway of "Cattails" to the searing eruption of "Not", with older favorites like "Shark Smile" and "Masterpiece" thrown in for good measure. They closed their set with a new song called "Dragon" that was even more intense than the songs from TH, cementing the notion that they're among the best bands active, and one that's still getting better with each record and show.

It wasn't surprising that Phoebe Bridgers headlined Friday given what a massive glow up in popularity that she experienced throughout last year, but her set couldn't help but underwhelm following right on the heels of Big Thief. Her performance was serviceable, with subdued highlights like "Scott Street" and "Garden Song" retaining the melodramatic arcs of the source material, but her set generally lacked the sense of risk, experimentation, or versatility that Big Thief and Animal Collective carried in spades. The lack of dynamics and variation doesn't necessarily hamper the cohesion of her records, but it left quite a bit to be desired from her headlining set. There’s no question that Phoebe’s a talented artist, and she’s already released a handful of good records in the brief span of time that she’s been professionally recording, but her music doesn’t necessarily lend itself to a particularly strong festival headlining performance yet.

On the whole, Saturday didn't quite match the highs of Friday, but there were still a handful of great performances. The lineup was arguably more sonically diverse than either Friday or Sunday, and it showcased the strongest balance between veterans and up-and-coming artists. Bartees Strange delivered a solid performance that exuded the soulful intensity of his recorded output, but it wasn’t quite as gripping as the searing performances early in the day that Dogleg and Special Interest delivered. Divino Nino sounded far more raw than they come off on record, delivering a solid performance only occasionally hampered by muddy basslines. Maxo Kream was charismatic, and engaging, but his performance lacked the intensity of his raps on record. Things didn't really pick up until Waxahatchee's set. Waxahatchee drew most predominantly from her terrific 2020 record, St. Cloud, with a few older highlights like "Silver" thrown in as well. Katie Crutchfield's voice sounds just as strong live, as it does on record, and what the band's performance somewhat lacked in SC's urgency she made up for in gorgeous melodic phrasing.

Aside from Kream, and a few particularly propulsive selections from Divino Nino, things generally remained in a low-key, blissed out temperament perfectly emblematic of the inoffensive chill malaise of mainstream indie up until Ty Segall and his Freedom Band took the stage, and then things took a complete 180. Ty Segall is inherently a throwback, to be sure, from the sonic parameters of his records, to the pacing of his output, to his career trajectory built on relentless touring with an indifference to the expectations of individual branding and fan engagement. All of which makes him an exciting prospect at any sort of festival; there's was some explicit potential for real spontaneity. And while the band mostly stuck to cuts from Segall's recently released, synth-heavy Harmonizer, they also performed a few of Segall's classic cuts like "The Only One" and "Love Fuzz". Everything was heavier, and more aggressive than it comes off on record, with The Freedom Band exuding an impressive level of chemistry that heightened everything that they performed. It would have been nice to hear some more range given just how disparate Segall's discography is (a cut from Sleeper or Goodbye Bread as a breather would have gone a long way towards helping smooth out the pacing), but they still delivered an exciting set with the kind of unrelenting intensity that the festival could have used a little more of.

One of the most intriguing acts going into the festival for me was the prospect of a solo set from Kim Gordon. She released a terrific record in 2019 called No Home Record, but that’s technically the only solo project to her name, and it was hard to say what else she might draw from, and how well the insular music from that record would translate to a festival setting. Gordon was backed by a standard guitar, bass, drum trio while she predominantly provided vocals, and some occasional guitar playing as well. They just played the entirety of NHR all the way through, and yet her set was still the most unorthodox and engaging of Saturday. The music was layered with the usual dissonance and distortion of all her work, but the slyly funky rhythms and jagged no wave guitars were interwoven into some new shapes that service her sparse vocal melodies well. The music translated much better to an outdoor festival space than I had anticipated, in no small part due to the versatility and straight up intensity of her drummer. It was hard to believe that Gordon was able to restrain herself from saying fuck the governor of Texas until the last 15 minutes of her set, but given everything that Gordon has ever stood for the sentiment couldn’t have possibly gone unsaid. It was a welcome reminder of her steadfast commitment to feminist ideals amidst an abrasive set that never quite buckled under the weight of her legacy.

The only mention of 9/11 that I remember was Angel Olsen claiming to have been inspired to write a new song the night prior to the anniversary only to jump into "Shut Up Kiss Me". The absurdity of the sentiment was only matched by a fan asking Olsen if they could throw broccoli on stage, and then actually delivering on the request after she gave it the thumbs up. For all the self-seriousness of her recorded output she certainly seemed to be enjoying herself far more than she generally lets on throughout her records. Her set predominantly featured songs from her last and best record, All Mirrors, with a few songs from My Woman and a handful of earlier cuts sprinkled in. Olsen's band consisted of two guitarists or two keyboardists depending on what she was playing, and was rounded out with drums, bass, synths, a violist, and a cellist. You probably wouldn't necessarily have guessed that was her first set in 2 years given how strong the band's chemistry was, particularly during the AM cuts. She carried herself with the theatricality of a natural performer completely in her element. For Olsen’s last song of the night Sharon Van Etten made a surprise appearance to join her for their collaborative single ��Like I Used To”, delivering an immensely satisfying cap to just over a decade long creative and commercial ascension for both singular artists.

As expected, Jay Electronica pulled out of the festival last minute. He was replaced by RP Boo who took Jamila Woods' set time, and Woods took Jay's slot. Jamila performed a strong set, with the only misstep being her underwhelming cover of Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit". She drew predominantly from her last and best record, LEGACY! LEGACY!, in addition to a few older cuts, and a promising new song. Her voice retained the understated grace, and effortless control of her recorded output, and the band behind her (particularly the drummer and keyboardist) elevated her songs with tight grooves and virtuosic keyboard vamps. Along with Waxahatchee, Jamila delivered some of the strongest melodies of all the acts on Saturday without missing a step. It was incredibly satisfying to see an artist from Chicago take a slot that late in the day, and absolutely crush it. If there’s any justice in the world she’ll be playing larger slots and festivals within the next several years to come.

Annie Clark, aka St. Vincent, is a reliably great performer, and despite the lackluster quality of her last two records her set was much tighter than they'd suggest. Aside from a corny bit where Annie pretended that her sister called her while dropping a P4K 6.8 joke, and seemingly drawing attention to the lukewarm reception of her last record, Daddy's Home (a far worse record than Pitchfork acknowledged in their review), in light of her headlining status, her set was immensely engaging. For the most part she thankfully eschewed that kind of performative exhaustion and eye-rolling by breathing some new life and renewed energy into her songs by way of tight chemistry, great harmonies, and occasionally just fucking ripping into guitar solos. Very few artists had guitarists that can play guitar like Annie, and only Dogleg, Ty Segall, and Yves Tumor seemed to match her aspiration of traditional rock stardom (and of those three, only Yves Tumor was on the same level of her stage presence). Naturally, some of the DH songs fell a little flat, while a few of the songs that predated Masseduction were transcendent. After seeing her twice now it seems pretty evident that no matter how disappointing her records become, she’s still going to deliver a pretty strong show.

Sunday was defined largely by hip-hop and r&b, but there was still some nice variation earlier on in the day. Special Interest kicked things on Sunday off with an urgent performance that retained their aggressive no wave meets four on the floor energy. Although their music is much better suited for a dank basement club, their serrated beats and overall bombast still translated fairly well to the dust-ridden grounds and dry Chicago heat. There were some minor vocal flubs, and some stiff pacing, but they brought some much needed teeth to the day's proceedings right out of the gates. Special Interest have only released two records to date, but their performance reaffirmed that they’re on to something truly singular.

Aside from Dogleg, oso oso were the only fifth wave emo ambassadors that played Pitchfork, and their set was unsurprisingly among the weekend's highlights. Still riding high from their sublime 2019 LP, Basking in the Glow, oso oso delivered a rousing performance imbued with the sugary, top notch vocal melodies that play a large role in shaping their records (oso oso frontman Jade Lilitri is still completely in a league of his own when it comes to writing vocal hooks). They played a few older songs, including Real Stories of True People Who Kind of Looked Like Monsters highlight "Where You’ve Been Hiding ", but the bulk of their set was split between songs from the aforementioned BitG, and their 2017 breakout second LP, The Yunahon Mixtape, capping it off with their great 2018 single “gb /ol h/nf”. The band backing Jade sounded tighter than any I've seen perform with him in the past, freeing him up to just deliver his infectious hooks and prance around the stage. While plenty of acts delivered great melodies throughout the weekend, no one matched the sheer immediacy of oso oso. Oso oso have been making some of the best guitar pop of the last few years, and their live show captured the spark of their records.

Choosing to see Sean Bowie, aka Yves Tumor, over Thundercat was easily the most difficult decision that I had to make that weekend. Thundercat is always great live, and the last two songs that I caught after Tumor's set ("Them Changes" and "Friend Zone" respectively) were tight performances, but Tumor has quickly become one of the defining artists of our time. Bowie’s set brought the smoldering psychedelic glam rock of 2020s Heaven to a Tortured Mind, and their recently released The Asympomtical World EP to life with finesse and ferocity. The four piece band behind them featured guitar, bass, drum, and assorted electronics freeing Bowie to freely prowl about the stage howling, crooning, and shrieking as the songs demanded. The set drew the most from those aforementioned releases (which compounded just how badly I fucked up by not traveling any distance necessary to catch them while touring their 2018 masterwork, Safe in the Hands of Love), but they still dove into "Licking an Orchid", “Lifetime”, and "Noid", showcasing how well the avant-pop of their breakthrough works within the context of their current phase. It was incredibly heartwarming to see dozens of people legitimately moshing to avant-garde music, in addition to Bowie reveling in the immense goodwill that their game changing records deserve. Most of the sets that I saw throughout the weekend were great, but Bowie’s set felt like a particularly transcendent star-making moment.

As anyone who's seen Danny Brown live can attest, it’s always a great time, but you don't exactly know how he's going to perform, and his set on Sunday was no exception. He started off strong with "Dope Song", and one for the heads with "Black Brad Pitt", but within short order Brown began to stumble through a few cuts. Brown stopped many of the songs he performed after just a verse or two since he couldn't remember the rest of the words which made for a disjointed experience, but it also meant he was able to draw from more of his catalog (if only for a minute or two per song) than he would have otherwise. His flows were as sharp and controlled as ever, and there's no denying his idiosyncratic stage presence, particularly during classic cuts like "I Will" and "Grown Up". After shouting out his Bruiser Bridge label Zelooperz and Bruiser Wolf joined his set for a few songs which gave the proceedings a nice Bruiser Thanksgiving spirit. He played only a few tracks from his latest record, uknowhatimsayin? with the bulk of his set drawing on classic cuts from XXX and the tried and true festival staples that make up the bulk of Old’s b-side. While certainly not the tightest performer of the weekend, Danny Brown was easily one of the most charismatic and engaging, and on a handful of songs, like “Attak” from Rustie’s 2014 LP, Green Language, he proved that he's still one of the best rappers alive.

Flying Lotus emerged on the red stage towards the end of Sunday evening with his mind-bending visuals and light show well-intact. He started off playing cuts from his recently released Yasuke OST from the anime of the same name before pivoting to some remixes of old classics, with “Zodiac Shit” in particular teased with its original, iconic Adult Swim visual. The mixing throughout was as remarkable as anyone who’s seen FlyLo live would come to expect, and nothing overstayed its welcome, seemed forced, or uninspired. At one point Thundercat leapt up from the side stage to deliver vocals during "Black and Gold", and the chemistry between them was almost overwhelming. At two different points during his set FlyLo descended from the decks donning his Captain Murphy alter ego which allowed for some nice variation between the dense electronic onslaughts. In a shocking, but sublime move FlyLo ended his set with "Do the Astral Plane", a highlight off of his opus, Cosmogramma, that he doesn't play often, but is nevertheless the perfect festival send off, and yet another reminder of just how far he's taken his singular beat making.

Erykah Badu was only 25 minutes late for her headlining set Sunday night, but her performance was well worth the wait. She performed alongside a 9 piece band, and delivered tight renditions of classics from Baduizm and Mama's Gun, as well as some cuts from her great 2015 mixtape But You Caint Use My Phone. Her singing sounded just as strong live as it does on record, imbuing the music with the same hazy warmth that helped shape her strongest material. Badu’s backing band retained the multi-faceted sweep of her music while subtly enlivening it, and Badu herself had a commanding stage presence that bellied the understated swagger of recorded output. Badu’s set was the perfect send-off for what was by all accounts an extremely well structured and executed festival. Within a landscape of music festivals with homogenized lineups that generally don’t even give the illusion of curation or any sense of personality, Pitchfork 2021 was a satisfying anomaly that will hopefully continue within this vein for years to come.

[im-a-riverdale-slut-blog]

Apricity C3

CHAPTER THREE -跳动的心

Mixing both sides of the tracks seemed like a recipe for disaster, but maybe that didn’t mean something bad? Just because she was born into class didn’t mean deep down Madsie wasn’t as dangerous as Pea - so what chaos would these two hurricanes cause together?

You know when you’re a kid, and its Sunday morning, sitting in bed in your favourite pyjamas, the soft, worn-down material gently caressing your skin, and although it’s early, and the birds morning song echoing outside, you’re watching your favourite TV show and you feel like there is nothing better in the world, this ball of content and excitement in your stomach? That’s exactly how I’m feeling.

I woke to the birds chirping, the sun beams sneaking through the sides of the curtains and the heat radiating through creating a warm atmosphere. And before five minutes passed, a massive grin formed on my face as I recalled the night before. A small squeal escaping my lips as I rose my hands to cover my face as I’m sure a blush crept on my cheeks.

“I swear this is the only place in Riverdale people care about.” I laughed as Sweet Pea and I sat in the booth at Pops, the one furthest in the corner, hidden away. The laugh that came out his mouth was angelic, despite the bad boy vibe that emitted from him. “It’s the best place in Riverdale, apart from the Whyte Wyrm on the Southside.” Just as I was about to answer, Pop Tate came over with two menus in hand which he placed in front of us. “Good to see you Sweet Pea, and especially with a young lady.” He raised his eyebrow at the teen before walking away, at which Sweet Pea laughed to himself. “I like your tattoo.” I said, as it once again caught my attention as a vein popped right through the centre of it when he laughed. “Why’d you get it? Every tattoo has a meaning, right?”

He raised his fingers to lightly trace over it, “I’m a part of the Southside Serpents, a gang, and every member has one.” My eyes widened slightly at the mention of him being in a gang. “Don’t worry, princess, we’re not bad, that’s not us, that’s the Ghoulies. Jughead’s a serpent too, his dad is the leader of us all.” At the mention of Jughead being a gang member made me laugh cynically, not being able to imagine the beanie-clad kid with a snake tattoo and in leather. “So, is the Whyte Wyrm like your… ‘hangout’?” He nodded lightly, and his lips parted slightly as if to talk but a strawberry milkshake was placed in front of us pulling us out of conversation, “On the house.” the old man smiled before returning back behind the counter. “Take me one day, Sweets.” Smirking at me, he took the cherry that sat atop the swirl of cream and placed it into his mouth, “I’d love to, princess.” There was a brief silence, where the air around us was filled with comfortability, as if we were friends that had known each other for years.

“Okay, Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious, tell me something about yourself nobody else knows.” He cocked his eyebrows in suspicion and surprise, but quickly shook his head with a chuckle at my antics. “I hate tomatoes. I think they’re pointless and a waste of time.” Rolling my eyes playfully, I crossed my arms and leant back into the soft material of the booth seats. “Dig a little deeper.” Sighing, he copied my stance, his muscular arms folding as he thought hard, and as I looked into his eyes I swore I could see tiny little cogs turning and twisting as he dug through his brain. “I still have my nans wedding ring, in the original box. I kept it after she died.”

My heart was pounding at the thought of last night’s events, at the thought of the beautiful, raven-haired guy with a ridiculous name that asked me out but before I could think more about it, my phone pinged loudly, resonating throughout the silent room. Looking at the screen, it read: Meet me at the park in 30 minutes – Vee x.

*    *    *

After meeting at the park, she took me to this beautiful river; it was soundless, and serene. Besides the echoes of our shoes, the only noise that could be heard was the satiating song of the birds sat in the trees that surrounded us, as well as the flow of the water, washing down the river. “I don’t think our lives have ever been this peaceful,” Ronnie sighed, in a tone of content, as if she was finally happy with how life had presented itself. 

“Our lives definitely weren’t peaceful when our tea parties didn’t go our way,” We laughed, remembering the countless play dates we shared as children which we had supervised by anyone but our parents as they were whisked away in their studies, discussing and planning business strategies and campaigns. “I don’t think Smithers or Wentworth appreciated the tantrums when they refused to put on tiaras and tutus.” We stopped, sitting on a rock placed beside the river. “Eventually they obliged, we were, kind of, their bosses,” Veronica laughed, taking in the view before us.

“Mija, why don’t you and Madsie, go to your room and maybe get ready for bed?” Hiram instructed, as he gestured for his business colleagues to step into his office. As usual, we both nodded, hiding away into Ronnie’s room, away from anything business related. “So.” She started, as she took her hairbrush and patted on the bed for me to sit. As I did, she combed my hair, the butter-coloured locks falling to my waist. “For your 14th birthday party… you have to invite Dominic!” I felt a red hue form on my cheeks while a quiet giggle escaped my lips, “No, I can’t.” I said quietly, trying to hide the excitement in my voice. Out of habit, I fiddled with my hands, twisting the silver rings that were located along my slender fingers. “Why not! C’mon, you like him, he likes you, this is your chance!” She slightly shook my shoulders, making us giggle at my hopeless crush. And that’s all it was – a hopeless crush. Dominic had been one of my best friends forever, and I never want to ruin what we have. Especially over something as stupid as a crush.

“And what about you Vee? Which dashing boy will you be taking as a date to my party?” She sighed, standing up from her position on the bed and walked over to the dresser, taking out a bag of her facial creams and silk shorts and shirt. “Honestly,” She paused, sighing once again and placed a blob of moisturiser onto her fingertips, “Wes, if anyone, but strictly as friends, platonic friends. I’m not the boys-orientated girl out of us.” Rolling my eyes, reached out of my bag across the bed and pulled it to my chest, a mischievous smirk forming on my face. “Your parents are going to be busy for a while, right?” I asked, carefully reaching into my bag. “Yeah, why?” Ronnie asked, tentatively walking closer to me, each stop slower and slower as she rubbed the cream into her olive-tinted skin. “I thought,” I dragged out my words, pulling out a couple of sticks from my bag, twiddling them between my fingers, they were white in colour with one having blue striped over the paper and the other green. “We could have some fun… take off the stress of boys, and school and parents…” Ronnie returned my smirk, taking one them from my hand and downing it without any more talk. “Where did you get these?” She asked, as I joined her motion, taking the Jingle Jangle, and we threw the packaging into her bin. “Nick St. Clair,” She nodded, shrugging off the curiosity of my dealer. “Maybe, I’ll take him to my party, he always knows how to have fun. Who knows?”

We talked for a while: about New York, the time between Ronnie moving to Riverdale, her new life and it felt like nothing had changed. She did seem kind, caring and a new person but I couldn’t let myself be caught up in the web of lies she’s stuck everyone else in, I wouldn’t let myself. I knew deep down that she would never change from who she was, is. Manipulative, fake, deceitful and a murderer. After that night, neither of us were going to change who we were – it was too engrained in us. A permanent stamp, burned into our soul and in the DNA that made us who we were.

After saying goodbye to Vee, I went back to the Five Seasons and as I placed my hand on the door handle, I overheard mutterings and I paused. For a few seconds I let myself linger, trying to overhear the inconsistent muffled voices through the door but to no avail, I simply opened the door slightly before I heard the voices raise into shouting and then into screaming. “Stop! Richard. This isn’t going to help the business in any way, it’s stupid, foolish and will ultimately lose us so much money!” I didn’t want to move but I didn’t to listen to it anymore. The battle in my head rendered me unable to move, my feet stuck to the ground, every muscle, and every bone in my body frozen exactly into place. “But what if it goes right, Natalie. Yes, it’s risky, I’m not denying it, but it will work out, trust me.” For about a minute, they argued back and forth and I remained where I was.

Building up my courage, I walked in and aimed straight for my room, ignoring and avoiding all contact and conversation with my parents – not wanting to alert them in anyway. Over all the years, they had never fought, or at least I’d never seen them do it, they were always this picture-perfect couple. Shakily sighing, not wanting to overthink the situation, I pulled out my phone and hovered over one contact. And I debated whether it was a good idea to call them, if I was being heedless and should let it go. Without further thought, I pressed it down and it dialled. It rang a few times before they picked up. “Hey, princess, what’s up?”

“Um- can,” I paused, playing with the hem of my shirt, biting my lip subconsciously, “can you come over?”

*    *    * “I don’t know how you just snuck me past your grandad but-” Sweets had just made into my bedroom, I closed the door slowly, trying not to wake anyone. “Grandad? That’s Wentworth – the butler.” I said nonchalantly, but Pea quickly shot me a look of surprise and confusion, his eyebrows raising and his lips parted slightly. “Butler? Perks of being white, rich, skinny and pretty, right?” He said, kicking off his shoes along with his jacket and laying on the bed. “Now,” He said, reaching out his arm as if for me to lay next to him, and rolling his eyes as if to say ‘It’s a cuddle for fucks sake, not sex’, “Talk to me.” Huffing, I copied his actions and took off my shoes and sat beside Pea, his strong arms pulling me further into him until I felt the rise and fall of his chest, and surprisingly felt solaced by someone I barely knew. “My parents were arguing and I know it’s not even that big of a deal but it’s not normal for them and I don’t want them to split up.” I felt his body stiffen and then move as he sat up, “Hey, hey, stop.” Looking up at him and into his brown eyes, they were filled with unease, “People, couples, argue, it’s normal. They’re not going to split up.”

Smiling slightly, feeling better just by his presence, he got up and opened my wardrobe. “Let’s look through the princess’ ball gowns, shall we?” I shuffled closer, sitting on the edge of my bed, watching him flick through the masses of fur coats, blouses and skirts. He pulled out my pink fur coat, and as he did his head caved back and his face became disgusted. “I can’t believe you murdered and skinned an animal for this.”

“What do you mean? It’s faux.” I said, crossing my arms, and shaking my head. “Fucking faux my ass. You definitely skinned a care-bear for this.” He laughed, chucking the coat at me, and shivering in disgust at the baby pink fluff ball he had held.

“Does all of this,” he paused, turning and gesturing to the masses upon masses of clothes, shoes and handbags littered in the wardrobe, “make you happy?” He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow, waiting for my answer. “Yes.” I lied. I thought it did. But I never made that choice, from the minute I could comprehend life I was having dress fittings, hair appointments and blue box presents – I never had a choice in whether I liked my lifestyle. “Really?” He questioned, walking over and gently placing his thumb under my chin to look into his eyes. There was a sparkle in his eyes, something that compelled me to tell him the truth. “I don’t know. It’s lovely and the clothes are beautiful but, would I prefer jeans and something more casual? Yes. Would my parents kill me? Probably.”

As he sat beside me, he placed his hand over mine, and our eyes met. “Why are you so caught up in others opinion of you?” He said, his face confused, “And you’re not?” I retorted, standing up and pulling away. “You hold back from doing things just because they don’t fit your ‘image’, and you shouldn’t. Live the life you want to live; it doesn’t matter who or who doesn’t see because it’s for you.” His voice was slightly raised, as if annoyed or angered. “Me stopping myself from…wearing jeans and a t-shirt, because of my posh girl image, is like you, not going to a dog shelter because puppies don’t match your bad boy image. We both do it.” My arms were in the air, and I laughed lightly at his reaction.

“Okay.” He huffed, picking up his boots and lacing them up. “Where are you going?” I asked, puzzled. He ignored my question, doing up his coat and chucking one at me. “Pea!?”

“We are going to the dog shelter. If that’s what it takes you to do something that fucks up your image, I’m going to do something that fucks up mine.” Shaking my head, I shove the coat back at him “No.” I laughed, at which he got up, standing directly in front of me. He towered over me, a giant grin adorning his face, a mischievous grin. We stood staring at each other for a few seconds, taking in the others stance, trying to read one another. Rapidly, he picked me up, his giant hands gripping my hips tightly and threw me over his shoulder. “C’mon Rapunzel, let down your hair for once,”

*    *    *

When we arrived, my heart swelled at the sight of all the puppies: some sleeping, some playing, some eating. “Sweets!” I squealed eagerly, clutching his arm as I tried to calm myself, at which he laughed at me. Throughout the field of puppies and some older dogs, there were groups of them. An old-looking, greying golden retriever sat watching as these pug puppies started chasing each other around, their tiny yet mighty barks attempting to initiate a play fight with one another.

Out of all the puppies, one caught my eye. It was a tiny grey husky puppy, curled up into a ball in the corner staring at their surroundings, a wallflower. Just as I saw it, Sweets had taken a liking to her as well as he dashed over there and as picking it up smiled so widely I felt myself match his happiness. “She’s beautiful.” I sighed as I gently ran my fingertips over her coat, the soft fur tickling my skin. “She’s a beauty,” he agreed, and put the dog down. “And I’m not only talking about the dog.” He confidently, crossed his arms, his signature smirk appearing on his face. “Smooth.” I laughed, flippantly shoving his shoulder. Which he rolled his eyes at, before grabbing my hand and encasing it in his much larger ones. And as he looked at me, my stomach fell and my heart began racing, “Guess what?” He whispered, loud enough for only me to hear. “What?” I managed to force out, the lump still stuck in my throat, showing no sign of moving. And my heart pulsated so irregularly and sharply, I swore it felt like it was going to cut right out of my chest, right there and then. “I’m going to get it. The puppy.”

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