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whatzaoverwatch · 5 years ago

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The Reaper of the Opera Chapter 5: Prima Donna

Fun Fact: the part of Carlotta was originally going to be Ashe to represent the bratty side. But I felt to uphold the diva side of the character, with reputation and having Reinhardt being a fan, was more suited to Hana.

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Managers Office/Morning

A disgruntled Torbjorn entered the office, newspaper in hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Still waking up as he slumped over to his desk in exhaustion. The article that covered the page was the review of the prior performance. “A new star rises in the Overwatch Opera House! The final curtain call for Hana Song?” was written in bold. He merely read parts of it, finding that the backup plan had been a rightful success. Taking his seat, he spotted an unfamiliar note resting on the mahogany desk. A familiar skull print concealing the content inside put a sour look on his face. Sipping his coffee so he could read the inevitable. Tossing the newspaper aside, he picked up the note knowing this was from their so-called associate. Reluctantly opening it, he began to read the passage inside.

“A greeting to Mr. Lindholm. As much as I wish you my highest praises, I am afraid you have not gained my respect. I have been patient with you and your comrade as you are not quite familiar with the rules of my Opera House,” The bearded man huffed in bitterness, “I shall demand for my salary once more by the end of the month. Should these instructions not be followed, I am afraid darker days will approach you swiftly. – R.”

A lack of surprise evident on his face, he tosses the note away into the trash. “Of all the damn things to show up. First [Name] disappears now this? The things I have to put up with to fulfill a friends’ dream. If this is a mere prank by someone I’ll-“

“TORBJORN!” A shout from the entryway alerts the man as Reinhardt storms in with a paper in hand. Startling the smaller man to spill some of his coffee, “IT IS A CATASTROPHE!”

“Reinhardt! Do not shout so early in the morning,” He scolded his friend. Cursing at the now ruined suit. Trying to clean it off with anything, he looked over to the disheveled giant to see what he held, “I see that you also have received a letter.”

“Indeed!” He clears his throat as he began to read the words, “A greeting to you Mr. Wilhelm. I must continue my praise for selecting Lady [Name] as our songstress and leaving Lady Hana in the wings. I implore that you continue to cast Lady [Name] as the star for that will bring you fair fortune. While I also continue my instructions to leave Box 5 closed for no visitors, regardless on how much you sell. Finally, I must ask you to tell your hard-headed companion that my salary must be due. I do not wish to lay any curses upon you, but further denial shall leave me no choice. -R.”

“Hard-headed!? Me?! The damn bastard can show his face and say that himself instead of writing these damn letters!” Torbjorn slammed his fist in the table bitterly. Reinhardt nearly startled by his actions attempts to calm him.

“Torbjorn! May I remind you the last time you damned this writer injured Hana?” He was quick to say as he looked around the room in a panic, “How can we put on a show if we do not even have our new star??”

“I do not know maybe you should ask this R person for that insight!?” Torbjorn rose from his seat, walking towards Reinhardt to take in the letter, “What kind of a man would demand such things?”

“R…” Reinhardt gasped suddenly as if he had put two and two together, “You do not think it is that Reaper of the Opera Miss Oxton spoke of is it?”

“Oh, so ghosts can now write in ink. That’s just perfect,” Tossing the note away, he paced back and forth in thought, “Some kind of man that pretends to be a ghost so he can get a bit more money than the rest of us. This has that stage handlers name written all over it. Sabotage my a-“

“Where is she???” Another voice entered the room. Drawing the two men towards the door to a concerned Genji.

Hand on the door wearing a long coat from the weather outside. Catching his breath for just a moment as if he had just ran. Reinhardt and Torbjorn exchanged glances before Torbjorn glared at the new face.

“And who are you?” He asked, crossing his arms. Allowing Genji to compose himself before giving a respectful bow.

“Forgive me, my name is Genji Shimada.” Introducing himself before them. Reinhardt scratched his beard with a hum.

“Shimada, as in the infamous Shimada clan from Hanamura?”

“They very one.” Genji was reluctant to say.

“Ah yes, Sojiro Shimada was once a patron to the Opera House many years ago.” Reinhardt stated, watching as Genji straightened himself up.

“I am surprised that you are familiar with my father.” Genji confessed to Reinhardt.

Torbjorn turned to the larger man, wondering how he knew of that only for Reinhardt to explain, “I have looked into the history of the Opera House long before we have taken control, my friend. I have a passion for more than the stage you know.”

“There’s a lot you take in that I will never understand.”

“Forgive the intrusion, but I still need to know where she is.” Genji pleaded to the two men. Worry growing in his eyes for answers. The two men exchanged glances at each other.

“If you are looking for Lady Hana, she is not here right now.” Torbjorn answered, watching as Genji shook his head at the response.

“I am not looking for Hana I am looking for [Name]! Miss [Name & Last Name].” putting his hands into his pocket to reach for a note of his own, “Forgive if it goes against the note you had written to me.”

“A note???” Reinhardt gaped looking to the skull print on the letter. Torbjorn scowled at the familiar print.

“That is not from us. Seems this R has nothing better to do than to write damn letters,” Looking at the puzzled young man, he pointed to the paper, “What does it say?”

“To the young and naive Genji Shimada. Do not fear for Lady [Name], the Angel of Music has taken her under his wing. Make no effort or attempts to see her again. – R,” Genji grimaced at the note, raising his gaze to the two of them, “Are you certain this is not your doing? Keeping your stars away from speaking to people is one thing, but calling me naive for it is rather uncivilized.”

“Mr. Shimada, I assure you we had nothing to do with that letter!” Reinhardt assured with a hand on his shoulder. Trying to provide some comfort despite no clue where [Name] even was. The silence once more was cut by a noise outside the door.

“Where are they!?” A womanly shout was heard, the screech all too familiar for the older men. Brushing past Genji, Reinhardt and Torbjorn hurried to the main hall.

Standing with a crutch in her grasp, a limping Hana looked around with a pout on her pink stripped cheeks. Her hair tied up in two loose buns on top of her head. Dressed in a dress of pink and blue, trying to upkeep her vision despite injury. A careful Lucio by her side as she squirmed. Spotting the two men once they entered. Her brows furrowed, pointing at them with absolute disgust.

“How dare you write me this note! Do you have any idea how much I contribute to this Opera House??” She demanded, trying to approach but struggling against the limb. Looking to Lucio to help her in her situation. He took a deep sigh, taking her arm over his shoulders to help her move, “Mr. Morrison never showed such disrespect to me. If you wished to speak such rotten things you should’ve said it to my face!”

“Another note??” Torbjorn groaned, rubbing his temple from the growing stress from this situation. Genji approached the group with upmost confusion. Reinhardt panicking as he approached the young woman. Hands clasped together for forgiveness.

“Dearest Hana, what is this note you say we had written?” He asked, receiving a ‘hmph’ from the diva.

“Don’t make me a fool, you knew what you had written! Lucio, read it.” Lucio reached into his pocket to another skull printed letter, beginning to read before the group.

“Lady Hana, your days at the Overwatch Opera House are numbered. Lady [Name] shall be taking your place from now on,” Lucio read, Hana curling her lip to [Name]s name in disgust, “Should you take her place at any given chance little rabbit, you shall be forever silenced. -R. Man, that is way too cold.”

“Lady Hana, my dearest song,” Reinhardt implores, taking her hand gently for comfort, “Torbjorn and I can assure we had nothing to do with that note.”

“All these damn letters all about [Name], it is almost as if they are all for her…” Torbjorn grumbled, walking towards Reinhardt as he tried to comfort the songstress. Genji shook his head in disbelief of the groups growing arguments.

“But what about-“He began to say only to hear the sound of a cane behind him.

One he had recalled from his past with [Name]. A flash of memories to times where you two had caused mischief. The sound of it was a memory he wasn’t all too fond of. Turning to face the stern look of Ana Amari with Fareeha by her side with patience.

“Lady [Name] has returned.” Ana announced to the group. All eyes drawn to her from the sudden news. Genji felt a waver of relief as the two men blinked in surprise. Hana not at all pleased by the annoucement.

“Where is she now?” Torbjorn asked before Genji could. Watching Ana approach the group with a grip of her cane.

“In her room, she is resting as we speak.” She informed, letting their concerns subside for the moment. Genji placed a hand on the womans’ shoulder with a soft look.

“May I see her?” He asked, receiving a stern look from the woman. Seeing something strange in the way she looked at him. The glimmer fading away when she shook her head.

“I am afraid she will see no one,” Walking away from Genji, she rummaged through her pocket for something, “But I have one more thing…”

“Let me guess, another note?” Torbjorn asked as a mere joke, smirking to the people around him. Thinking it wasn’t the case until Ana pulled out a note with a raised eyebrow. Slumping at the realization with a grunt, “…of course…”

The group turned to Ana as she opened the note to read before them all.

“I have sent several notes on my behalf as to how MY Opera Company should be run. Given as you have drawn my patience, this shall be your final chance,” A flicker in the lights came about, as you could almost hear the haunting whispers of The Reaper. Every word being spoken as if you could observe him writing it before your very eyes. His eyes fixated upon a black rose before he concealed his note with the skull print, “Lady [Name] has returned and I am anxious to see her career progress. In your newest production, you shall put Lady Hana as the silent role, and our dear Lady [Name] as the lead. A role fitting the both of them respectfully. I shall see the performance in my reserved Box 5. Should these instructions be ignored, I will not hesitate to deploy a disaster far beyond your control upon the theatre. – R.”

A tense air filling the room as Ana finished the note. Lowering it to the unease before each of their faces. Genji feeling this concern over your safety. Reinhardt filled with absolute fear as even Torbjorn held some uncertainty. Lucio couldn’t hide the shiver down his back as he held Hana. Hana finally making her words clear with a huff.

“I see what is going on…ever since these two showed up now we are being told what to do left and right,” Gripping her crutch, turning to face the door. Pulling away from Lucio to move, “It’s all about [Name]! Nothing but [Name]! I worked hard to where I am and now? I am being cast aside like dirt!? I shall do this R one better; I know where I stand, and the papers say so too. I am leaving!”

“Lady Hana! Wait!” Reinhardt pleaded running to her side. Taking her free hand before she could escape. Falling to his knees and begging, “Do not leave us! We need you here! Torbjorn, talk some sense into her!”

Turning to his friend, puppy dog eyes welling up, Torbjorn knew that he couldn’t turn away his friends pleas. Not seeing the near relief in Lucio and Fareehas eyes at the thought of Hana leaving for good. Approaching the young woman, he takes her hand with comfort.

“Lady Hana, we can assure you that we do not take orders from anyone,” Patting her hand gently, he noticed the frustrated tears stinging the young girls eyes, “Damn to all of these notes, Lady [Name] will take the silent role as you take the lead.”

“But Mr. Lindholm,” Ana approached with a bit of caution in her voice, “The Angel of Musics words are certain. If you disobey…”

“To hell with this Angel or R or Reaper OR WHATEVER!’ He barked with certainty, “When I bought this Opera House, I did it simply to fulfill the dreams of a comrade who saved my life.”

“Torbjorn…” Reinhardt spoke softly looking upon the wounds that still remained on them both from their history. The shorter man shaking away the sentimental to focus on Hana, he shook her hand sincerely.

“I didn’t pay with my retirement funds just to have some no face tell me what to do. Our words are certain, our words are absolute. You WILL be our star Hana! Not [Name]. Not now and not ever again!”

Genji looked discouraged at that final statement. Knowing he had wished to hear you sing once again. Looking to Ana and the tightened grip on her cane. Even Lucio and Fareeha seemed down from the news. Hana sniffled in her tears, trying to wipe them away with a hiccup.

“Y-You really mean it?”

“You have my word, Lady Song, the voice of the Overwatch Opera House.” He comforted her, noticing Reinhardt approaching to give her a handkerchief. She took with a thank you before blowing into it. Her smile returning once more.

“Okay…I will do it.” She agreed, nodding with excitement as the two men escorted her away.

“Wonderful! The show must go on! We shall find a way for you to perform even with your injury.” Reinhardt shouted, his happy spirit returning once more. Leaving the remainder of the group behind to wallow in the inevitable. Lucio knew he had to follow behind, especially when Hana called for him in a sing song tune. Giving the rest of the group a shrug before leaving.

Ana turned around as she noticed the discouraged Genji. He suddenly felt her delicate fingers lifting his chin up to inspect his features. Leaving him stiff before the older woman.

“I’ve seen your eyes before. You are Sojiros youngest are you not? The one who played with Lady [Name].” Narrowing her gaze with a sly look. He merely nodded to her suspicions.

“I am. I see you are still the same as ever Madame Amari.” He confessed, watching her step away slowly.

“Staying out of trouble I hope?” She smirked, recalling the time when she had to scold him and you. He simply chuckled, rubbing his neck nervously.

“On my best behaviour...I promise.” Impressed by the change in the younger one, she knew of his reasons for being here.

“She asked for you, by the way. Wondering if you had looked for her.” His awkward position straightening at her words.

“I did…I was worried that she had no desire to see me until I found the note. Forgive me if it is selfish, but I only wish to know if she is ok.” Watching her tap her finger carefully, unable to read the old womans mind after so long. Looking at him carefully, she nodded in understanding.

“You are a good man; you always placed her needs before your own. I can assure you that she is well, so long as she rests. But I still humbly suggest you take these notes to heart,” She warned, Fareeha looking to Genji at her mothers words, “I do not wish for your heart to be broken once more, Shimada.”

He was confused by her warning. Wondering if these notes held true to their warnings. Whatever could this R do in order to keep you in the spotlight. Left with the ambiguity, she began to leave with Fareeha following suit.

“Wait,” He halted her escape, still not satisfied that he couldn’t see you, “Can you at least give her my best wishes? I will attend the next show, no matter what role she will partake in.”

Looking over her shoulder, she eyed the young man before nodding at his request.

“Of course...send a greeting to your brother on my behalf, Genji.” Leaving the young Shimada to leave on his own.

He took to the exit of the Opera House. Reaching for the door handle until he felt a cold chill in the wind. The lights flickering once more before his eyes. For a moment, he felt as if someone was behind him. A shadow looming over his figure, almost as if he was being watched. A hand slowly reaching for the back of his neck. A hiss escaping a cloud with red eyes. Swiftly turning around, he found himself still alone at the entrance. Brushing away the doubt when the lights returned to normal. Making his leave to the outside. The door closing behind him. The shadows that hid themselves lingered back inside the theatre.

To be continued

#Overwatch #overwatch x reader #overwatch au #overwatch scenarios #overwatch imagines #torbjorn lindholm #reinhardt wilhelm #genji shimada #genji #genji shimada x reader #only a Shimada can control these tags #hana song #lucio correia dos santos #ana amari #pharah

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woodland-knight · 6 years ago

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Father and Son

Long story short, this is a fic I’ve been working on for months. It’s a companion fic to this fic right here, which in turn goes along with another fic not originally written by me. After putting it off for so long and some pushing from Komatsu, I FINALLY managed to finish this! Woohoo!

AU: Bravely Babies

Summary: When Ringabel finds an old album lying around, painful memories come back to him. Though it’s not anything he isn’t used to, things become difficult when his oldest son starts asking questions about it.

Word Count: 3305 Words

Spoiler Warning: BD spoilers are present, but knowing the stories of both BD/B2nd is recommended.

Additional Notes: Mentions of child death are present in this fic.

It began with the album.

Ringabel had been looking for a military tactics book when he found it again. It had been misplaced somehow, put back on a shelf where it didn’t belong, and he was unsure of how it had gotten there. He and Edea normally kept it in their room for safekeeping, but somehow it had made its way to the main bookshelf in the sitting room on the first floor. With how much time that had passed since its creation, the two only pulled it out a few times at the end of each year, but it had been months since they last looked at it. Ringabel couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been there.

Opening the album to a random page, Ringabel looked at the pictures within. They were mostly of a small infant on his own, but there were plenty of him with Edea and Ringabel as well. Anazel, Ringabel and Edea’s eldest child, had died in the womb almost 18 years prior, and the album was one of their few memories that remained of him. While the urn that originally contained his ashes was in a case upstairs, and a few items meant for Anazel were stored in the attic, the album was the only thing left untouched. Anazel’s ashes had been scattered long ago, and what items that could be repurposed were given to the twins when they were born.

The pictures had thankfully aged well despite being older prints, and any fading had been minimal. Ringabel could see his son clearly, and he looked adorable as ever in his blanket and hat. The more he looked at his son and the family photos, the more Ringabel couldn’t help but be a bit emotional. It was nothing more than a few stray tears, but it was to be expected. The death of a child was heartbreaking, no matter how long it had been.

“Mr. Lee, are you in here?”

Looking over his shoulder, Ringabel noticed a young man peering into the sitting room. Zealan, his adoptive son that now took the role of eldest child, was looking at him with a slight scowl. The young man seemed annoyed, which was a change from his normal, shy demeanor, and Ringabel couldn’t help but wonder if something happened. It was rare for Zealan to present himself to Ringabel in this way.

“Ah, Zealan! How can I help you?” Ringabel asked as he turned around. Closing the album, he tucked it under his arm and gestured his free hand towards his son, who straightened up and fully entered the room.

“The maids sent me to tell you the twins broke a window in the library- they’re already working on cleaning it up, but they said you’d order the replacement,” Zealan explained. “Alternis and Lyvia were both sent to their rooms, and it sounds like Mrs. Lee is going to properly punish them later.”

“Tsk tsk tsk,” Ringabel said as he shook his head. “Will those two ever learn?” Though it wasn’t a surprise the two had broken something, Ringabel had hoped with Zealan around the two would at least become a little more responsible. They continued to prove Ringabel wrong, however, and they continued causing mischief even with the watchful eye of their older brother.

“According to Lyvia, they were trying to reach something on top of one of the shelves when they knocked something over. She was sitting on Alternis’ shoulders when they hit it, and it just kind of fell and cracked the window open,” Zealan explained. Though it sounded like a reasonable explanation, Ringabel wasn’t completely convinced.

“And what did Alternis say?” Ringabel asked in attempts to catch the twins, or at least Lyvia, in a lie. Alternis was more likely to crack under pressure, so if he was asked separately he’d more than likely tell the truth.

Zealan, meanwhile, shrugged. “The exact same thing, really,” he continued to explain. “The only difference between the two stories was what caused them to hit something. Lyvia says it’s because Alternis wasn’t watching where he was going, and Alternis said Lyvia’s weight caused him to stumble.”

Sighing, Ringabel shook his head again. “I honestly expect too much of those two,” he said before looking back at Zealan. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll make sure it gets taken care of.”

“Do you want me to help with anything?” Zealan asked as his posture tensed up. Any hint of annoyance seemed to have left him, and he instead adopted a strict seeming manner he sometimes had with Ringabel. Despite his words, his demeanor hinted he didn’t want to stick around.

“No, that’s quite alright,” Ringabel said as he untucked the album and held it in his hand. “Let me put this away and I’ll take care of the window.”

Curious, Zealan leaned slightly in attempts to get a better glance at the album in Ringabel’s hand. “What is that?” he asked as he eyed the cover. Without a moment of hesitation, Ringabel clutched the album and hid the cover from view.

“Ah, this is nothing of importance,” Ringabel stated as he hid the cover from Zealan’s view. He hadn’t meant to react in such a defensive manner, but Ringabel was unsure of how to approach the album’s contents with Zealan. It contained rather personal images, and if Zealan saw them it would complicate things. It wasn’t, however, because Ringabel felt Zealan deserved to know…

But it was because Ringabel wasn’t sure how to explain to Zealan the album was for Zealan himself.

Though the two boys’ names differed, there was never any doubt in Ringabel’s mind that Anazel and Zealan were one in the same. Though Anazel had tragically passed away before his birth, Zealan had survived due to his mother sacrificing her own life for his. Zealan had been able grow up and live the life Anazel could not, though it had been filled with hardships. With how much Zealan had been through, Ringabel was unsure if the young man could fathom hearing about his counterpart’s death. Ringabel himself had already struggled enough after learning of his own counterpart’s disappearance.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Lee?” Zealan asked, sounding concerned as he did so. “You seem to be crying.”

“Am I?” Ringabel asked in response. Feeling his cheeks, he could feel a few tears that had managed to stream down without notice. “Ah, so I am… But you shouldn’t worry about me. Everything is fine, Anaz- ...Zealan. Everything is fine.”

Ringabel hadn’t meant to almost call Zealan “Anazel”, but it had started to slip out. It felt natural, which didn’t come as too much of a surprise, but Ringabel didn’t want to treat Zealan as a replacement. Anazel was a missing piece in their family, and Zealan helped to fill it, but he still had a life and name of his own. Ringabel didn’t want to tie the young man down by telling him the truth. Perhaps it really was for the best he didn’t tell Zealan about the album’s contents.

“I’m… Glad to hear that,” Zealan hesitantly said as he stood uncomfortably and eyed what little of the book he could see. “Is that... A uh, photo album? My adoptive father had one too. He used it to record his travels before he took me in.”

Tensing up, Ringabel tried his best to keep the album out of Zealan’s view. “Yes, it is a photo album,” he said without further explanation. He knew Zealan was a curious boy, but there was only so much Ringabel was willing to say about the book in his hand. Perhaps if he were lucky, he’d be able to get away without Zealan asking too many questions.

Much to Ringabel’s relief, however, Zealan backed off.

“I guess I’ll leave you to put it away so you can work on replacing that window,” Zealan told Ringabel. Ringabel could feel his tenseness leave his shoulders, and he was finally able to relax slightly. He didn’t think talking to his son should be this stressful, but there was much that Ringabel was trying to hide from him.

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Ringabel promised as he moved past Zealan. “I’ll put it back in it’s casing and gather the papers I need to order that window.”

Ringabel felt he had nothing else to worry about. Once the album was back where it belonged, Ringabel could grab the papers he needed to get the window fixed and check on the state of the twin’s punishment. With Zealan’s job done, Ringabel could fill out the paperwork as needed without worrying about the older boy poking around. Zealan would probably be off reading or painting- doing something to keep him distracted- and forget about the album for now. That way, Ringabel would be able to tell him about it alongside Edea when the proper time came.

Ringabel, however, had not realized his mistake in words.

“That album must be very important if you keep it in a casing,” Zealan pointed out before Ringabel could leave the room. Ringabel stopped in place and looked back at his son, who was once again staring at him curiously.

“Ah, well… You see..” Ringabel forced out before swallowing. His throat was feeling dry, and he wasn’t really sure how to explain himself.

“You also seem quite adamant on keeping it close to you and away from me,” Zealan continued pointing out. “Are you perhaps hiding a photo album filled with past lovers from Mrs. Lee?”

Ringabel’s jaw dropped. “What!? Of course not!” he assured Zealan. “This album is filled with no such thing!” Ringabel was shocked Zealan would even suggest such a thing, but then again, Zealan had yet to fully begin to trust Ringabel. Their relationship was a complicated one.

“Then what is it?” Zealan asked with a genuine curiosity. Ringabel wasn’t sure why Zealan was suddenly so interested- okay that was a lie; it was because Ringabel was being so secretive- and he was unsure of what to do. There were so many pros and cons to weigh through that Ringabel didn’t have enough time to think.

He had to make an on the spot decision.

“...sit down, Zealan,” Ringabel requested as he gestured towards a small couch. “I have something to tell you.”

Without any hesitation, Zealan went and sat down. A moment later, Ringabel sat down next to him and placed the album on the table in front of them. As soon as he placed the album down, a heaviness left Ringabel’s chest. It was as if he had actually been holding his son the entire time, and putting the album down had finally allowed him to rest. Zealan, meanwhile, started looking through the small amount of pictures placed inside- though Ringabel had made sure Zealan skipped over the front page.

“It’s a collection of baby photos…” Zealan said to himself before glancing at Ringabel. “These don’t seem to be of Valentine, so I assume it’s of the twins? Though it’s odd they’re not in any photos together.”

Ringabel inhaled sharply. “That’s because it isn’t of the twins or Valentine,” he began to explain. “It’s their older brother.”

“...their older brother...?” Zealan asked before going quiet. There was a dreariness in the air now, and Ringabel felt uneasy. Perhaps it was because he was digging up old memories, or perhaps it was because of something else.

“He passed away two months before he was due, and we had this album created in memory of him. His ashes were scattered in the village of Regen, back when it was known as Gravemark, and this is one of the few momentos we have left of him,” Ringabel continued explaining. “It’s not something we often discuss.”

The dreariness in the air increased as Zealan moved his hand away from the album. “I… I see,” he managed to say. He looked to be in slight shock, but Ringabel didn’t blame him. It was a horrible thing to learn.

“As time passed, we began to accept and live with the reality of what happened, though not a single day goes by where we don’t wish he had survived. It’s like we’re missing a piece of our family, and we’ll always have that hole in our hearts,” Ringabel mentioned with a somber tone. He noticed Zealan twitch slightly, and the young boy seemed focused on the pictures in front of him.

“Do the twins and Valentine know?” Zealan asked as he placed his hand over one of the pictures. “I assume they do, but I also understand if you chose not to tell them.”

Ringabel sighed and nodded in response. “Yes, the three of them know about Anazel. The twins are fully aware of what happened, but Valentine is still a bit too young to understand the impact of it,” he explained further. A stray tear fell down his cheek and the heaviness in his chest returned; it never got any easier telling someone about Anazel.

For a moment, Zealan was quiet. His hand was still placed over one of the pictures, and his eyes repeatedly scanned the rest of the page. His fingers twitched and the corners of his lips turned downwards slightly; he was beginning to look irritated, and Ringabel wondered if he had upset the young teen somehow. He hoped he hadn’t, as their relationship was already strained enough.

After a minute or two, Zealan broke his silence. “...why were you hesitant to tell me? Aren’t I your child too?” he asked coldly. His voice was bitter, and Ringabel felt a slight ping of pain in his heavy heart. He hadn’t wanted to hesitate, but… There was so much that had to be explained.

“You are my child, Zealan, and I love you just as much as Valentine and the twins,” Ringabel assured him. “You have every right to know what happened.”

Frustrated, Zealan slammed his hand down and snapped at Ringabel. “Then why were you so hesitant to tell me!?”

Taken aback, Ringabel struggled to find the right words. Zealan was staring directly at Ringabel, and there was an intense, hateful fire in his eyes. Ringabel could tell that Zealan was angry with him, but Ringabel had honestly been trying his best. It was just difficult for him to talk about on his own.

Ringabel tensed up. “It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, Zealan. I was just unsure of how to approach the subject,” he tried to convince his son. Ringabel’s own breath was unsteady now, and he was trying his best to keep calm.

“You seem to have explained it to Lyvia and the twins well enough!” Zealan pointed out in rebuttal as the bitterness in his voice increased. “You say I’m your child, yet you don’t treat me like it!”

“Zealan, I need you to understand this isn’t easy for me,” Ringabel told the aggravated teen. His own voice was stern now, as he was trying to remind Zealan that he was the teen’s father. Ringabel wouldn’t tolerate being yelled at.

Zealan bit his lip before speaking again. “This isn’t easy? You know what else isn’t easy? You taking me away from my family and claiming that you’re my father-“

“ZEALAN, THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Silence followed Ringabel’s outburst. Zealan stared wide-eyed at him, and tears streamed down Ringabel’s cheeks. He was frustrated, but he didn’t want to continue lashing out at his son. Ringabel knew Zealan’s emotions had gotten the better of him, but Zealan had began crossing a line he shouldn’t have. Ringabel also understood the young man’s bitterness, but his behavior was far from acceptable. Zealan had acted like Ringabel had when he was Zealan’s age.

Ringabel let out a shaky breath. “Zealan, you have to understand that your mother and I lost a child. You are not the only one who has had tragedy and death in your life,” he told Zealan. “I know I’m not a replacement for your father, but you are my son, and I love you. This subject is just difficult for me to talk about, especially with my children.”

“...I’m sorry,” Zealan muttered as he looked away from Ringabel. The bitterness in his voice was gone, but something else was in its place. Ringabel could tell it was sadness and frustration, but he knew he shouldn’t point it out. Not after that outburst.

“Promise me you won’t tell your mother about this,” Ringabel requested. “It would break her heart to know we were arguing again.” He felt bad for upsetting Zealan, but he’d feel even worse if he ended up upsetting Edea as well.

“I promise,” Zealan said without saying much more. He was quiet now, most likely due to Ringabel’s shouting, and hesitant to say anything in response. He was acting like he normally did when he approached Ringabel.

Feeling guilty, Ringabel took a moment to think. “...speaking of your mother, why don’t you talk with her?” he suggested a minute later. “I’m sure there’s still a lot she’d like to discuss with you, and she enjoys spending time with you.”

“...can she tell me more about this album?” Zealan quietly asked. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Zealan still wanted to discuss the album, but Ringabel had just proven he wasn’t the person Zealan should be talking to. Zealan’s connection with Edea was much better than his anyway.

“She can tell you more about our son, yes, but the album… Let her show that to you in her own time. She’ll show you when she’s ready,” Ringabel stated. The dreariness in the room had faded, but the heaviness in his heart remained. He needed to go lay down for a bit.

“Thank you, Mr. Lee. I’ll ask her next time she’s free,” Zealan said before standing up. “Ah, and before you forget… You should order that new window.”

Ah right, the window. “Run along then, Zealan,” Ringabel said as he waved his son off. “I’ll go put this away and go look into contractors to fix it.” In his room. In the comfort of his own bed.

As Zealan left the room with a simple farewell, Ringabel stood up and took the album off the table. He was drained from the yelling, and though his conversation with Zealan had been brief, it had carried a heavy emotional impact with it. Ringabel felt horrible for putting the burden of telling Zealan more about Anazel on Edea, but he knew that she was the best person for the job. Perhaps afterwards, Zealan would know the truth about the album, and the three of them could look through it together. Maybe Zealan would be able to fully forgive him then as well.

As Ringabel walked towards his room, he could hear Edea lecturing the twins down the hall. He couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, however, and ultimately decided to tune her out. His mind was too busy thinking about the argument that had ensued, and he clutched the album tight as he entered the master bedroom. He was tired, so perhaps he’d take a nap before looking for somebody to fix the window. There wasn’t a real rush anyway, and there was no threat of snow blowing in through the hole the twins had made.

Unlocking the album’s casing, he took one last look through the pictures. It always hurt a bit to flip through the pages, but Ringabel needed to see them. He needed to tell himself that one day Zealan would look through them too and understand everything. They’d be a happy family, and Zealan would think of Ringabel as his father. One day, everything would be okay…

And one day, Zealan would read the words meant for Anazel on the front page; the words that were meant for his oldest son.

#Tree writes a fic #Bravely Babies #Long Post #Super Long Post #This trilogy is finally done #Now I can work on trying to finish or write other fic

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jenniferfaye34 · 4 years ago

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#Giveaway~Last day to enter~The Italian's Unexpected Heir by Jennifer Faye... #books #romance #NewRelease #amreading #booklovers #VineyardRomance

On Tour with Prism Book Tours

We hope you enjoyed the tour! If you missed any of the stops you'll find snippets, as well as the link to each full post, below:

Launch - A Note from the Author

Thank you for joining me for the dramatic conclusion to The Bartolini Legacy trilogy. A diary and a secret totally upend the lives of the three Bartolini siblings and creates an unforgettable summer…

Rockin' Book Reviews - Review

"In her usual fashion, Author Jennifer Faye has created another delightful story which one can relax with and enjoy! . . . The characters were very endearing. The scenes were portrayed well. There were a couple of unexpected twists which added to the intrigue. However, it was fairly predictable, yet so enjoyable!"

Becky on Books - Excerpt

Over the past several months, Sylvie DeLuca had become a good friend. She had the brightest smile—like the one she was flashing him now. And she was a good listener—though he usually didn’t have much to say. However, tonight, beneath the Parisian moonlight, he noticed her incredible beauty. How exactly had he missed it all this time?

Christy's Cozy Corners - Review

"Reading The Italian’s Unexpected Heir is a pleasure. You will love reading how Sylvie and Enzo’s love develops through the book, the discovery of Sylvie’s pregnancy, the threat to the vineyard, and the conclusion of the legacy. This delightful romance is a quick and enjoyable read. You won’t want to put it down!"

Because I said so -- and other adventures in Parenting - Review

". . . I have not read the other two, I did not have a problem following along. The author did a great job at providing a quick recap of the family history. . . . This book contains really well written characters, a heartwarming and at times heartbreaking storyline."

Splashes of Joy - Review

"It’s been fun reading this delightful series, and I sure hate seeing it send. I like forward to seeing what is next in store with Jennifer Faye. If you love a sweet Romance, you may way to try out this book."

Locks, Hooks and Books - Review

"I was not disappointed at all. It could be one of my favorites that I have read by her to date. It was so good. I had no issue reading the whole book in one sitting. I loved the chemistry between Enzo and Sylvie. Such a delight. . . . I recommend this one for readers who love to read clean, sweet and quick romances."

Baroness' Book Trove - Review

"I love happy endings. Ms. Faye does such a fabulous job wrapping up this family’s tragedy and answering all the questions that I find myself asking at the end of some books. My rating is five stars, and if you are looking for a sweet romance to spend an evening with, this is a great one. I highly recommend it."

Hallie Reads - Review

"Jennifer Faye’s The Italian’s Unexpected Heir is delightful, finishing the series so well. I enjoyed Enzo and Sylvie as they sorted through their changing relationship, and of course, the trip to beautiful Italy that their story offers is much appreciated this year."

reviewingbooksplusmore - Review

"I loved Sylvie and Enzo’s story in The Italian’s Unexpected Heir. . . . This book is part of a series but can be read as a stand-alone. However, I do recommend reading the first two books. I enjoyed them a lot also."

underneath the covers - Excerpt

Sylvie felt as though she was having an out-of-body experience. Maybe that was what she needed to tell herself in that moment to give her the courage to reach out to Enzo. Her hand cupped his freshly shaved cheek.

If she didn’t do this now and quickly, she knew she would lose her courage. And though she’d been thinking about this for the longest time, if she didn’t act now, she would never fulfill her wish. And the one thing she’d learned in her short life is that you had to grasp the happy moments because they were fleeting and few.

Harlie's Books - Excerpt & Review

His good mood deflated like a balloon stuck with a sharp needle. A big whoosh and his mood was back to its prior melancholy state of being.

Enzo blew out a deep sigh. This confirmed that their close-knit family was forever fractured. Nothing would ever be as it had been. If only he hadn’t held on to that secret—the one he wasn’t supposed to know anything about—maybe then things wouldn’t be so different.

"This book is the perfect ending to a wonderful series. I just loved how Ms. Faye wrapped up everyone’s loose ends and we get to Gia, Enzo and Bianca come together as a true family in the end. . . . As usual, Ms. Faye takes her time with her storytelling and nothing is rushed. I love her voice and she lets her characters do the talking. Some would argue that this book is shorter than the others in the series but again, Enzo and Sylvie didn’t need a long book. They laid out their story and just let it happen."

Pause for Tales - Review

"I have been enjoying this saga of three siblings who are reeling from their parents sudden deaths. . . . Both of them mature throughout the story as they face the consequences of their one night together and put the baby's needs first. This was an emotional read at times especially as the siblings deal with the pain of losing their parents and the secrets they kept. However, family triumphs."

Book Lover in Florida - Excerpt

He drew in a deep breath and then let it out. It didn’t matter how long he put this off; it wasn’t going to get easier for either of them. It was best just to get it over with as quickly as possible. “I’ve agreed to sell the estate.”

If it was possible for her face to grow paler, it most definitely had. Even her normally glossy pink lips were devoid of gloss this morning and had lost their color.

“You did what?” Her voice faded with each word.

Reading Excursions - Review

"For the most part; reading this was like being on an exotic vacation with no worries, lots of excitement, some drama, sweet moments, a lot of precious moments stuffed in it, along with the lessons. I truly enjoyed reading this and can’t wait until I finish the never-ending TBR to re-read these all together."

Teatime and Books - Excerpt

As soon as the thought came to him, he dismissed it. He’d ruined any chance of anything romantic between them. Not that he was interested in starting a relationship. In fact, that was the last thing he wanted.

His personal life was a disaster. He might have won full ownership of the Bartolini estate but he’d lost what made it special—his family. In truth, he hadn’t even won control of it. He’d won out of default. His sisters didn’t want the place. They’d rather move far away and start over. Not that he could blame them after the way their lives had imploded upon finding their mother’s journal.

Bookish Jottings - Review

"Jennifer Faye’s The Italian’s Unexpected Heir is a superb contemporary romance full of such warmth, pathos and heart that it is absolutely impossible not to be drawn in from the very first page. Sylvie and Enzo’s love story is poignant, emotional, dramatic and one that will touch the heart and bring a tear to the eye of romantics everywhere. . . . Jennifer Faye’s The Bartolini Legacy trilogy has been absolutely fantastic and I cannot wait to read what she writes next!"

Andi's Book Review - Excerpt

She rushed over to the doorway before he could escape inside. When she stepped in front of him, his widened gaze settled on her. “Sylvie, this isn’t the time.” His tone was gruff. “I have things to do.” She settled her hands on her hips. “Not before we talk.” He sighed. A moment of tense silence passed before he said, “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

Don't forget to enter the giveaway at the end of this post...

The Italian's Unexpected Heir (The Bartolini Legacy #3) By Jennifer Faye Contemporary Romance Paperback & ebook, 256 Pages September 1st 2020 by Harlequin Romance

Her baby surprise proves…

…that one night will never be enough!

Reeling from the secrets that have torn his heritage apart, Enzo Bartolini is set on selling his family’s Tuscan vineyard and trying to forget the impulsive, dazzling night he and best friend Sylvie shared in Paris. While the sale moves forward, the thrilling awareness between him and Sylvie is harder to move past…especially when she upends Enzo’s world by revealing she’s carrying his baby!

Go to Jennifer's Contact Page HERE and order your bookmark(s)!

Other Books in the Series

The Prince and the Wedding Planner (The Bartolini Legacy #1) By Jennifer Faye Contemporary Romance Paperback & ebook, 256 Pages March 1st 2020 by Harlequin Romance

When different worlds collide…

…sparks fly!

With her family name on the line, wedding planner Bianca Bartolini needs this royal wedding to go perfectly—she can’t afford distractions. Too bad the bride’s dashing brother has other plans! Duty-bound Crown Prince Leo has mere weeks to announce his own engagement, but none of the candidates measure up to Bianca. They’re the most unlikely match, but might that just make them perfect for one another?

The CEO, the Puppy and Me (The Bartolini Legacy #2) By Jennifer Faye Contemporary Romance Paperback & ebook, 256 Pages June 1st 2020 by Harlequin Romance

Has the search for her past…

…guided her toward her future?

Gia Bartolini’s determinedly searching for her real father. First stop on the enchanting Italian island of Lapri? A mysterious abandoned mansion…where, rescuing a trapped puppy, she falls straight into the arms of alluring Riccardo Moretti! Her passion for the all-business CEO burns bright, leaving Gia with a question: In uncovering her true roots, has fate led her to true love?

About the Author

Award-winning author, Jennifer Faye pens fun, heartwarming contemporary romances with rugged cowboys, sexy billionaires and enchanting royalty. Internationally published with books translated into nine languages. She is a two-time winner of the RT Book Reviews Reviewers' Choice Award, the CataRomance Reviewers' Choice Award, named a TOP PICK author, and been nominated for numerous other awards.

Tour Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

One winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card and a copies of THE PRINCE AND THE WEDDING PLANNER and THE CEO, THE PUPPY AND ME, winner's choice of print (US only) or ebook

Open internationally

Ends September 16, 2020

#The Italian's Unexpected Heir #The Prince and the Wedding Planner #The CEO The Puppy & Me #Jennifer Faye #The Bartolini Legacy #Contemporary Romance #royal #prince #vineyard #dogs #puppy #family drama #Prism Book Tours #Hearts & Scribbles

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mastcomm · 5 years ago

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The Chaos at Condé Nast

It’s a high-class but increasingly common problem: being a former magazine editor in a digitized world that cares little about whose name used to be on top of a defunct masthead. (A masthead, for those unfamiliar with the term, lists in careful hierarchy the top staff of a publication and is most often printed on paper — which tells you pretty much all you need to know.)

At 48, Dan Peres is already an old hand at being a former magazine editor. Condé Nast shut down Details, the men’s glossy that he had been editor of for 15 years, in 2015. Overnight Mr. Peres went from two decades spent as a coveted presence at fashion shows and parties in the world’s capitals to a divorced dad adrift in the ’burbs.

He tried to pivot to digital publications, but quickly learned there is little job security in start-ups. He took on some consulting gigs. He was also jotting down stories from his past life, one not many people knew about.

“I started to have some conversations about next steps career-wise, and during that time I started writing,” Mr. Peres said last week, sitting in his home office in Irvington, N.Y., at a wooden drafting desk that he had lugged from Paris. “There were experiences I wanted to get down on paper. I wanted to keep my mind sharp.”

The result is a memoir, “As Needed for Pain,” which was published this week by Harper, an imprint of HarperCollins.

In the book, Mr. Peres reveals an opioid addiction that he tried for years to hide, and which, until he got clean in 2007, had him taking as many as 60 Vicodin pills a day. Among many anecdotes that illustrate his wincing desperation, he tells of gobbling up pills that had fallen onto the floor beneath a urinal at a black-tie event in 2003. “Does the five-second rule count for piss-soaked drugs?” Mr. Peres writes. “I’d like to say I hesitated.”

“You can’t fault his honesty, although you’ve got to wonder about the judgment of his bosses,” Jay McInerney wrote in a review for The New York Times. And indeed, “As Needed for Pain” is an eye-opening document of how Mr. Peres for seven years spent his working hours and many of his company’s dollars in pursuit of getting high.

Since 2009, Condé Nast has gone from publishing 22 magazine brands (including one digital-only publication) to 16 magazine brands (six of which are digital only). In 2017, the company had about $120 million in losses.

Mr. Peres’s reign seems to have epitomized the bloated pride before the fall. Founded by Annie Flanders as a scrappy downtown magazine in 1982, Details had gone through several iterations before being taken over by Fairchild, which was ultimately moved under the Condé Nast umbrella. With Mr. Peres as editor, the magazine was retooled as a manual for a metrosexual clinging to a certain frat boy quality, lest you call him gay.

Details had for a time what Tina Brown always used to call “buzz,” with cover models like Robert Downey Jr., Kevin Federline (twice!) and Ben Affleck. It was not so filled with ads that it was a doorstop, like the flagship magazines Vogue and Vanity Fair, but it was still robust.

Freelance journalists wanted to contribute to Details (I was one, reporting a profile of Patrick Kennedy for it in 2001), and the magazine won awards for its design.

Condé Nast, which also then regularly published the magazines Gourmet, Jane, Lucky and Domino, had become famous through shows like HBO’s “Sex and the City.” The company was known for around-the-block Town Cars filled with enigmatic editors who lunched at New York restaurants like the Four Seasons and enjoyed clothing expense accounts and interest-free mortgages provided by their employer.

After being summoned at 28 from the Paris where he had worked as a writer and editor for W magazine and given the top job at Details, Mr. Peres lived subsidized for months in the Morgans Hotel. Once, he trashed his room because he couldn’t find his Vicodin; he blamed the housekeeper for stealing his drugs.

The hotel staff “called me Mr. Peres,” he writes. “I liked it. I never once told them to call me Dan.”

Those Were the Days

Editors of glossy magazines had status then because their products seemed important. People went to newsstands or physical mailboxes to find bound pieces of paper dropped by postal workers that would tell them who and what was cool, giving them topics for cocktail-party and water-cooler chatter.

Portable phones were these whiz-bang things that folded shut and were tucked away in pockets and expensive “It” bags.

The early and mid-aughts were the Roaring ’20s of magazines, with the looming economic recession not yet imaginable and the disruption of digital media not considered by publishing executives, so infatuated with their pretty print pages and the huge margins that print advertising delivered. No matter that their one real job was to have their fingers on the pulse of What’s Next.

“Those that are the oracle never think they’re one day not going to be the oracle any longer,” said Ariel Foxman, who helped create Cargo magazine in 2003 for Condé Nast, which closed it in 2006.

Mr. Foxman went on to become editor in chief of InStyle, where he remained until 2016. He is currently trying to sell a memoir called “The Magnificent Dissolve,” which looks at how magazines “led the conversation and then found themselves in the course of a few years chasing the conversation and trying to stay relevant.”

If published, it will join a subgenre of memoirs by onetime Condé Nast editors that includes Ms. Brown’s “The Vanity Fair Dairies”; “Save Me the Plums,” by Ruth Reichl, the former New York Times restaurant critic who went on to become Gourmet’s editor until Condé Nast shuttered it in 2009; and “More Than Enough,” by Elaine Welteroth, late of Teen Vogue.

“What a blast to be a part of something at its peak that now can be seen as a golden age,” said another memoirist, Dana Brown. Mr. Brown was a bartender plucked for an assistant job by the former Vanity Fair editor Graydon Carter.

He rose to be one of Mr. Carter’s deputies and is now writing “Disappearing Ink,” the working title of a memoir about the experience. “It was a time that was pre-technology, it was a time that was magical,” he said. “Writers were called writers, photographers were called photographers. It was before we all became ‘content creators.’”

Kim France was the founding editor of Lucky magazine, which started in 2000 and ceased publishing in 2015. She too is writing a memoir: “This Is Not My Beautiful House,” about moving from Texas to New York and building an outwardly glamorous career while battling substance abuse and depression. (She left Condé Nast in 2010.)

Her mood swings and impetuous behavior were initially treated as a sign of her creative talent, Ms. France said. This was the Condé Nast way.

“It was a privately held company, and they could employ all these really creative, kind of crazy people,” she said. “You had André Leon Talley swanning around. There was drama all over the place. It was obviously bad that this culture existed the way it did, but it started because they valued creativity and the kind of people that were creative.” (As it happens, Mr. Talley also has a memoir set to publish, in April, called “The Chiffon Trenches.”)

It was a culture that somehow allowed Mr. Peres for seven years to live a dual life as an editor in chief responsible for the publication of a national magazine and the management of dozens of employees, and an opioid addict.

When writing the book, Mr. Peres said, it didn’t occur to him that he might be revealing a lack of corporate oversight at Condé Nast or what a white man could get away with doing (and not doing) at a company known for its lavish spending.

“I didn’t overthink it,” he said. “I always set out to write a story about myself and my addiction and how intense of a grip it had on me, and in order to illustrate that, I had to touch on a number of elements of my life, including of course my professional life. I really see Details as a character in the book.”

A spokesman for Condé Nast said, “We’re happy for Dan’s recovery and to know that he’s doing well. Since the time chronicled in Dan’s book, our company and our industry have evolved significantly, and we can’t comment on the way our company was run under prior leadership.”

Mr. Peres tells in his memoir of frequently not making it into the office; when he did, he sneaked occasional naps on his office couch during the heavy drug years. He fell asleep while interviewing a job applicant. He had an assistant plan an unnecessary trip to San Diego, where he rented a car (he doesn’t remember if he or the company paid for it), drove to Tijuana, Mexico, and bought $6,000 worth of drugs to smuggle back across the border and then to New York (in between, he appeared on “Politically Incorrect” with Bill Maher in Los Angeles).

He would find reasons to fly to Los Angeles, to meet a publicist, see his girlfriend, do drugs with a rock star, who is unnamed (“plane highs were usually the best, especially in first class,” Mr. Peres writes). That girlfriend, the actress Sarah Wynter, would become his wife and then ex-wife; they have three school-age sons.

He spent four days “in a plush terry cloth robe” at the Four Seasons in Milan without attending the fashion shows he had traveled there for because he didn’t have sufficient Vicodin to feel like himself. (He then had the front desk send a medico to his room, who wrote him a prescription.)

Mr. Peres conscripted an assistant to unwittingly create with the Condé Nast travel office a 30-day itinerary to Italy and Australia that he could show to doctors as evidence that he needed to fill prescriptions in advance.

On a work trip to Los Angeles, Mr. Peres considered trying heroin and asked his driver to take him to Skid Row, where he was chased by a stranger whom he’d asked for drugs, (“It’s not easy to run for your life in a pair of Tod’s driving moccasins,” he writes). He decided buying drugs on the street was not for him.

“I listened to Journey and practically knew the room service menu at the Ritz in Paris by heart,” he writes. “I didn’t know how to do this.”

His Town Car driver in Los Angeles, he writes, became his drug dealer.

‘We Were Running the Show’

When he was present, Mr. Peres could be mercurial, some former colleagues said. “You never knew what kind of day it would be,” said Ece Ozturk, his former assistant, who worked at Details for about six years. “Would it be a good day with the nice Dan or a bad day with the mean Dan? He could be very charming at times, but people were afraid of Dan. People walked on eggshells around him.”

One former employee who had been fired sent a letter to Mary Berner, a publishing executive overseeing the company division that included Details. The letter, which was shared with The Times, cited “Dan Peres’s conspicuously frequent absences” and his “admissions about pill-taking.”

“The atmosphere at this young men’s magazine wasn’t just freewheeling — it was unprofessional,” the fired employee wrote.

Ms. Berner, now the C.E.O. of Cumulus Media, said she had no memory of reading the letter. “I wish I had known” about Mr. Peres’s drug problem, she said, “because I would have tried to help him.”

Mr. Peres writes that his assistant was known to many at Details as “the Rescheduler.” In one seven-week period Ms. Ozturk sent at least five emails to staff canceling meetings, according to emails reviewed by The Times. (“Dan is not in this morning, but may be in this afternoon” … “Dan will be out tomorrow, returning Friday” … “Dan is out today” … “Dan will be away on business tomorrow and Thursday, returning Friday.” Or maybe not: “Dan did not make it back from L.A. so to those who were supposed to have a ‘Vitals’ meeting,” she wrote, referring to a section of the magazine, “it has been canceled.”)

In the absence of a functional editor in chief, the staff of Details worked long hours to put out a magazine. “There were a lot of people there who could pick up the baton,” said Andrew Essex, an advertising executive who served for part of Mr. Peres’s tenure as executive editor.

Over the years, Mr. Peres’s colleagues included Laura Brown, now the editor in chief of InStyle; Jessica Lustig, a deputy editor of The New York Times Magazine; Jeff Gordinier, the food and drinks editor for Esquire; and Andrea Oliveri, a founder of the events company Special Projects.

Even with such support, Details under Mr. Peres had its fair share of mess-ups that these days, under the stern gaze of social media, might have been unsurvivable. In 2007, as Mr. Peres was trying to detox at his mother’s house in Baltimore, Mr. Affleck complained that he was misquoted in a cover story.

There was a party that the magazine was hosting in Mr. Affleck’s honor, and he needed to be placated. Mr. Peres quickly apologized.

Bart Blasengame, who had written the story, conceded that had played fast and loose with Mr. Affleck’s sentences.

“He said things in fits and starts and I took quotes from different parts of the interview and made them cohesive,” said Mr. Blasengame, who now owns and runs a music club in Portland, Ore.

He said part of the fun of working for Details was the lack of oversight. “We were running the show,” he remembered of himself and his fellow writers. Then, after the publication of the Affleck story, which had been fact-checked and given the OK by Mr. Peres, his contract was terminated (though he went on to receive other assignments from Details). “Admittedly, I didn’t handle it well,” he said, “but it definitely felt like getting thrown under the bus.”

In 2002, the magazine had published an article, “Dudes Who Dish,” that carried the byline of Kurt Andersen, the author well known in media circles as a founder, with Mr. Carter and Thomas L. Phillips Jr., of Spy magazine.

The main problem with the article was that Mr. Andersen didn’t write it. He didn’t even know of its existence until his wife, Anne Kreamer, saw it while leafing through a Details at the gym and asked her husband why he hadn’t told her he was writing for that magazine.

Mr. Peres bragged about landing Mr. Andersen in the pages of Details in his editor’s letter, not having done the very editor in chief thing of reaching out personally to Mr. Andersen to thank him.

“The extra weird wrinkle,” said Mr. Andersen during a phone conversation last week, was that the magazine featured an “interview” of him among the short bios of that month’s contributors. “As well as the terrible piece attributed to me, there was an even worse, horrible, ‘Hey dude, it’s just gossip’ quote from me. It was mortifying. Not just mortifying. Grotesque.”

Mr. Andersen said of the magazine, “It was ahead of its time in terms of fake news fantasy-land alternative truth.”

One of Mr. Peres’s staffers, Bob Ickes, handled the editing of the article. (When contacted this week, Mr. Ickes said he did not write the piece published under Mr. Andersen’s name.)

“Mistakes happen at publications,” Mr. Peres said last week, while acknowledging his yearslong focus on drugs above work and all else. “Surely the magazine would not have been as good as it was if not for my staff. I know anyone who has spent any time around an addict has to spend a lot of time doing a lot of heavy lifting.”

Mr. Essex, the magazine’s former deputy, said it is not fair to portray Mr. Peres as having no involvement with the editorial product known as Details. “He could identify bizarre permutations of male behavior particularly at the epicenter of gay and straight,” Mr. Essex said.

This sort of “male anthropology,” as Mr. Essex called it, did get Mr. Peres in trouble sometimes, like when he assigned to a staffer a 2004 piece titled “Gay or Asian?” that drew protesters to picket outside of the Condé Nast headquarters. “It was a tremendous lapse of judgment,” Mr. Peres said.

But cancel culture was not yet ascendant, and he stayed atop the masthead for another 11 years.

“You know when you’re in dysfunctional family and it’s the only family you know so you think that’s how all families are?” Ms. Ozturk said of working at Details then. “It was like that.”

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/the-chaos-at-conde-nast/

#Life style

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jenniferfaye34 · 4 years ago

Text

Grand Finale - #Giveaway ~The Italian's Unexpected Heir by Jennifer Faye... #books #Excerpt #romance #NewRelease #amreading #booklovers #VineyardRomance

On Tour with Prism Book Tours

We hope you enjoyed the tour! If you missed any of the stops you'll find snippets, as well as the link to each full post, below:

Launch - A Note from the Author

Rockin' Book Reviews - Review

Becky on Books - Excerpt

Christy's Cozy Corners - Review

Because I said so -- and other adventures in Parenting - Review

Splashes of Joy - Review

Locks, Hooks and Books - Review

Baroness' Book Trove - Review

Hallie Reads - Review

reviewingbooksplusmore - Review

underneath the covers - Excerpt

Harlie's Books - Excerpt & Review

His good mood deflated like a balloon stuck with a sharp needle. A big whoosh and his mood was back to its prior melancholy state of being.

Pause for Tales - Review

Book Lover in Florida - Excerpt

If it was possible for her face to grow paler, it most definitely had. Even her normally glossy pink lips were devoid of gloss this morning and had lost their color.

“You did what?” Her voice faded with each word.

Reading Excursions - Review

Teatime and Books - Excerpt

Bookish Jottings - Review

Andi's Book Review - Excerpt

Don't forget to enter the giveaway at the end of this post...

The Italian's Unexpected Heir (The Bartolini Legacy #3) By Jennifer Faye Contemporary Romance Paperback & ebook, 256 Pages September 1st 2020 by Harlequin Romance

Her baby surprise proves…

…that one night will never be enough!

Go to Jennifer's Contact Page HERE and order your bookmark(s)!

Other Books in the Series

The Prince and the Wedding Planner (The Bartolini Legacy #1) By Jennifer Faye Contemporary Romance Paperback & ebook, 256 Pages March 1st 2020 by Harlequin Romance

When different worlds collide…

…sparks fly!

The CEO, the Puppy and Me (The Bartolini Legacy #2) By Jennifer Faye Contemporary Romance Paperback & ebook, 256 Pages June 1st 2020 by Harlequin Romance

Has the search for her past…

…guided her toward her future?

About the Author

Tour Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

One winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card and a copies of THE PRINCE AND THE WEDDING PLANNER and THE CEO, THE PUPPY AND ME, winner's choice of print (US only) or ebook

Open internationally

Ends September 16, 2020

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