#it would fit SO well with the setlist too he could sing this instead of night changes idc

[finexbright]

defenceless still fucks me up so bad because why did he have to sing "i hope that i'm not asking too much, just wanna be loved by you, i'm too tired to be tough, just wanna be loved by you" like that and ruin me forever

[hapinesbuterfiy]

this is probably so random but imagine rafe taking his girl to the eras tour and she dresses him up to match her outfit and he’s pretending like he would rather be anywhere else but he lowkey loves it 🥺

this is so terribly me coded (rafey pls buy me miami eras tix so i can see taygracie again i beg you) <3 this is very s!3 rafe to me, ultimate daddy energy.

. ༘⋆⭐🪩🫶 ⋆˙

your a swiftie. a hardcore one for that matter. being a swiftie, however, tends to be an expensive hobby. luckily for you, your trust fund baby of a boyfriend rafe cameron came in clutch with two floor seats to the eras. and luckily for him he's getting the full eras tour experience!

rafe, being used to your antics already, made you well aware that he was not dressing up from the second he bought you the tickets. "'m not puttin' on a stupid costume for this alright? you do that. you're not ropin' me in this time." you inevitably ignore his protests, and come to a compromise. maybe he isn't wearing a full-on costume but, he cannot look boring in the presence of the taylor swift!

it's the morning of the concert. you of course begin getting ready at 10am, you had to prepare for a busy day of instagram photos, friendship bracelet trading, and screaming your favorite songs alongside your favorite people, your boyfriend and taylor swift!

it's only fitting that you opt for a couples costume. you couldn't get him to the heartbreak prince as you originally planned for, so instead he simply wore a white t-shirt with "KARMA" printed onto it in big pink letters and his signature ray bans. you, however, are completely decked out! a taygracie cowgirl hat sits pretty on your head alongside your glittery makeup, "karma is my boyfriend" rhinestoned baby tee, sequin pink mini skirt, and cowgirl boots.

"rafey! you look so cute. you studied the setlist right? i cannot have you making a fool out of me in front of mother." you chirp, squeezing onto his bicep as you walk into the stadium. "mother? you're insane. yes the setlist is memorized didn't wanna deal with your complainin' ass when this shits' over." he pretends that he's not going to have fun, but you know he will, being that you caught him listening to all too well 10 minute version in the shower while he thought you were asleep. at least he put the work in!

he's in a typical rafe mood, brooding and boring with a firm grip on your hand, following you around like a lost puppy with an irate facial expression while you make your rounds trading bracelets. that is until, taylor finally comes on stage.

he's videoing, singing along, and smiling. who is this man and what did he do to rafe cameron? since when did he know the lyrics to tolerate it? why is he wrapping his arms around you and swaying you back in forth during lover? he's entered his swiftie era, and you could not be happier.

[itgirlwife]

are you still there?

prompt: puck doesn't like talking on the phone, but malcolm calls them instead of texting. malcolm admits it's because he wants to hear puck's voice

pairing: malcolm / puck | honeymoon suite

words: 1002

notes: takes place early relationship, i like writing dialogue so i went overboard a lil

It's just a phone call—it won't kill me. It'll slaughter me. Malcolm means well, I know, but he's asking for a lot. The date was great, and the movie was great. It already called for minimal conversation but that didn't stop Malcolm. Being my Gemini self, I couldn’t keep my jokes to myself.  It filled the silence in-between Malcolm’s observations, followed by my nodding and ohs.

After dropping me back at my place, he kissed me like it was our last date. He wasn’t ready to leave me. I thought about how I’d eventually take my sweater off and his scent wouldn’t be there. How cold my hands would get without Malcolm holding them. I didn’t want him to leave either.

After a tight hug goodbye, Malcolm asked something of me.

“Call me before you go to bed.”

I nodded and waved goodbye, dreading his request.

I’d rather eat concrete than make a phone call.

I stalled once I entered the house. I did my nightly routine as slowly as I could. I skipped showering since I wanted to sleep in my sweater. Deciding to sleep in the sweater should’ve been the fire I needed to call him. I desired some closeness after Malcolm had left. It was him I wanted. Calling would make that easier to express. I don’t want him to think I don’t care about him. I do—a lot more than I’m willing to admit.

I’m sat in my bedroom looking at his contact info on my phone. His number hasn’t become muscle memory yet. I did add the emoji of the dancing guy next to his name. I thought it was too early in our relationship for a heart emoji, given all the things he does to my heart. Also, Malcolm wears suits and likes to boogie. It’s fitting.

My shaky thumb taps the phone icon. I can’t turn back now. 

Malcolm picks up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey. It’s Puck.” He knows that, idiot.

He chuckles. “Hey. I was worried you wouldn’t call.”

I can’t blame him for thinking that. It bothered me that he did, though. “Why wouldn’t I call?”

“We only text.”

“Oh. Yeah. I don’t like talking on the phone a lot.” It came out sooner than I wanted it to.

“I don’t like it too much either, honestly…if it means anything, I just wanted to hear you talk.” 

It means a lot, more than he’ll ever know. I won’t tell him that, though.

“Aww,” I cooed cutely. “You’re corny.”

He laughs. I picture the lines that would form on his face. Around his eyes, the corner of his lips. All are very beautiful. I pull the sleeves of my sweater to cover part of my free hand. It’s not enough. He should be here.

“Well, one of us has to do it, right?” Malcolm says. “Be the romantic fool?”

I laugh a little too, but it could just be my nerves. “It can be the both of us. I’d be lying if I said my head isn’t over my feet right now.”

“Aww. You’re corny, Puck.”

“Shut up.” My face feels warmer than earlier. “I got it from you. That kiss must’ve knocked something into me.”

“Hey, you know what they say about true love’s kiss.”

“I’ll turn into an ogre?”

“No,” I can hear him smile through the phone. I would kill to see it, “but I can sing Holding Out for a Hero to you. All while being your Prince Charming.”

“You gotta play the piano too. We agreed on a concert, remember?” He told me about the lounge shows he’d do at the casino. He’s played piano since he was a boy. I begged for a private concert the moment he told me.

“You make the setlist. I’ll show up in my suit with my Steinway.”

“Really? That’s way too much power. I’ll do that right now. Let me grab a pen and paper. Stay on the phone.”

“You haven’t given me a reason to hang up.”

“I’m about to.”

I thought about some songs from memory but eventually turned to my Spotify for ideas. I scribbled some songs on a piece of paper, then shared it with Malcolm.

“Are you still there?” I ask.

“Mhm.”

“Well, you’re not saying anything.”

He sighs, “I don’t think I can make Cream by Wu-Tang Clan happen.”

“There’s a piano in it. I’ll rap it for you.”

“I feel like you’re setting me up here,” he clears his throat. “What were the other songs you picked?”

I go back to the paper on my bed. “The theme song from Peanuts…Megan’s Piano, which I can rap too. Also, it’s super easy to play. Then Eenie Meenie by Justin Bieber. No piano in that one, but I’m sure you’ll figure something out. For the encore, you’ll sing Holding Out for a Hero, but you’ll have to come down from the ceiling.”

“What?”

“You heard me. In the part where she sings “Where have all the good men gone,” you gotta come down from the ceiling. Then you get on the piano. Also, smoke machine. And lasers.”

“Sounds expensive. Who’s going to hang me from the ceiling?”

I shrug. “You don’t have a ceiling guy?”

“No, I don’t have a ceiling guy. God forbid, what if I fall?”

“Sue the ceiling guy. It’ll help pay back all the money from the smoke and laser machines. Then you can take me to Disneyland.”

“Disney? After all those hospital bills?” I can’t see it, but I know he’s running his fingers through his hair. “I guess. Anything for my girl.”

The world stops turning. “Your what?”

“My girl. You’re my girl.” He’s smiling on the other end. I can hear it. I turn to the alarm clock on the dresser. It’s almost 11. I’m not tired, but I need a reason to hang up so I can scream into my pillow. "My girl.” Malcolm’s girl. I could melt into a puddle. I could get used to that.

[sgt-paul]

should have posted this on the anniversary of the rooftop concert but posting it on the anniversary of the ed sullivan show the first live wings gig is pretty fitting as well, anyway i just have the urge to react to the sort of "paul is a nervous, anxious wreck and he doesn't want to go on the roof he is scared and he is pain, and he is fishing for excuses" trope i've seen spiral on here (thanks to PJ's ability to come up with the most tone deaf "insights") as i'm just.. i don't get what people are looking at lol.

like, how do we get from paul talking about wanting to perform and play live for the whole doc really to the "paul is waiting for someone to boycott the gig because he is afraid to play live" conclusion. we know he wants to perform and play live, he wants an audience etc, because not only is he consistent about this during get back (at the "meeting" before the concert when there's still some uncertainty around the whole thing, according to MLH he is the one telling the others that they should do it), he said it himself (1) prior to get back [the idea of singing live is much more appealing to us now] (2) he continues saying this after they have finished get back (we know touring was basically the only suggestion he's made to the band around the time of/at the divorce meeting too) and (3) 3 years later, just months after he's formed wings the first thing he does is bringing his original idea to life with their university tour. + (4) he's absolutely thriving when he is playing on the roof...

yeah paul shows that he is frustrated and nervous about the direction the project is heading into, but he is literally right, he is not "moaning about nothing", he is not in a "pointless anxiety spiral", he's not bringing up "excuses" because he has "stage fright". (i can get behind the idea that he would be nervy about playing live again because (1) duh, and (2) in regards to that he very openly and sensibly says that he thinks they've/he's "got a bit shy". but uhm, that's quite different from what people are trying project him). the sense you get from him is that for him, playing a few numbers on the roof, and a couple others in the basement in a rush, and then somehow stringing them together into an album is not enough, it's not it ["but for who is tommorow the day we've got to do it?, not for me"]. hence why john is saying to him that he's aware that doing only ~7 tracks instead of 14 is disappointing and he's not talking to paul about the "stress" of having audience, or doing the concert or playing live, whatever. he's quite literally said, that he wants to go out with a bang. he wants a big, proper end to the story, he wants something different and fresh, something good they can be proud of and satisfied with ["i just like making the best out of an idea"] and then he wants to close the project and move on. he's a perfectionist, and he isn't lazy to put in the work to achieve what he perceives to be "enough". (of course ringo's and glyn's upcoming commitments are considerable obstacles when it comes to the possibility of extending the length of the project, but to me it seems his idea was to spend one more week working on the songs/setlist and preparing a 12-14 song concert in a proper location - days before the roof he is still talking about doing it somewhere like the saville theatre). he clearly cares about the band's output, he is fully invested in creating something great - just like he was when it was about pepper or the mmt - and he doesn't want some half-assed end* to the project they have been working on for about a month, the project that could also easily turn out to be their last(!). *the half-assed end being the better than nothing rooftop gig they resort to, seasoned with the basement tracks. so he's trying to get the most out of it, he's trying to give the biggest ending to this project that he can think of. right until the last moment he's trying to get more out of it than what they have eventually ended up with, because he thinks the roof isn't enough and it's not the ending that he wants. but once it becomes obvious that the roof&basement combo will have to be the finale, he is determined to make it as good as possible.

also you can't say that his frustration, worry and dissatisfaction weren't justified lmao, because when you look at the not particularly ideal treatment let it be got in the end (enter spector and klein), or just them being not that satisfied with what they had ended up with (days before the roof they are already talking about starting the recording of a new LP and just like that within a few weeks they are already working on abbey road) and the end result being subpar to the white album or abbey road... yeah. you can see what his problem was at the time. it could have been a step forward, as the project had the potential.

(and like, he could not have known that 50 years later people would look back on the rooftop concert and hail it as this iconic farewell gig lol, and that the performance of those 5 songs we got from the roof would be considered so legendary etc)

[negasonicimagines]

Tell Me I'm Not Funny

Request: darkandmysteriousbutheartofgold!ellie and wholesomeanddoesn'tunderstandwhyelliedoesn'tlikeher!reader where they're both part of the friend group but ellie just thinks reader is straight and messing with her pls

Notes: I don’t usually write MCU!Peter, so if he comes up in any future fics (like as the reader’s stepdad 👀 I’ve loved spideypool longer than I’ve loved Negasonic) you can safely assume it’s Andrew Garfield. But, for this time, this is MCU!Peter. Everyone in the friend group is 18-20, just to be clear.

This really isn't my best work, but it's a fun little slice of life piece. A lot of my ideas are pretty cinematic, I can picture them in my head but sometimes those pictures don't really translate into words. I may revisit this one day.

Warnings: D-slur (reclaimed by Ellie in one line), allusions to prior assault (an unwanted kiss that could've been more had another character not stepped in), and that's about it. Oh, and a little swearing, but this is an imagine for a character from Deadpool. If you can't handle swearing, you're on the wrong blog.

Synopsis: You’re into Ellie, but she’s with your good friend Peter. She treats you like you don’t even exist, and in the few instances she does acknowledge you, it’s usually just to make some sarcastic remark. You’re head-over-heels, though, and decide to deal with your unrequited love by writing her a song she’ll never hear.

“Fuck, that movie was terrible,” Michelle groans. “I’m just glad it was a matinee show and we didn’t have to pay as much to see it.”

“The special effects were good, but can’t Disney just leave stuff alone?” Peter agrees.

“Next thing you know they’ll be making a live action Toy Story, as if the original wasn’t traumatizing enough. I don’t want to imagine Watermelon as a sentient being. She’s seen some shit,” you snicker.

“Who’s Watermelon?” Ellie asks with a dark chuckle, and you clam up. How had you forgotten she was here?

“Oh, uh, nobody.”

“Don’t tell me you still sleep with a stuffed animal,” she snarks. “You really do need to grow up.”

“Don’t be mean, Ellie,” Peter protests.

“Watermelon is cute, everybody likes cute things!” Yukio adds.

“I think a live-action Toy Story could be cool,” Ned says. “It’d look really good if they did stop-motion animation.”

“Oh, you’re right!” you chirp. “It’d be quite the undertaking, but it would look badass.”

“I think you’re using that term a little loosely,” Ellie grumbles, and you have to stop yourself from frowning, instead you laugh it off. Why does she always pick on you? Sure, she’s got a witty remark for everybody, but she’s way harder on you. It hurts, she really is so gorgeous and funny and mysterious and everything you want in a woman, but she acts like she can’t stand you.

Ellie and Peter head off together, Peter still hasn’t gotten around to getting his license and Ellie seems happy to give him a ride. You really don’t stand a chance.

You and the others pile up in MJ’s SUV for some late-night band practice.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you admit to Yukio in the furthest row back.

“You can,” she insists. “You’re a way better singer than Lola, anyways.”

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to give her the wrong impression, I-”

“For the millionth time, Y/N, you didn’t. If she hadn’t left the band, we would’ve kicked her out. Not just for cheating on me, but for hurting you.”

“I guess,” you sigh. “Why can’t you sing instead?”

“Because I’m flat.”

“Yukio, breast size doesn’t have anything to do with singing ability, you’ve just gotta practice,” you joke.

“Shut up!” she giggles, punching you in the arm. “Plus, when you sing, the songs are being sung as they were written. We’re getting the real feelings.”

“Speaking of… I have something new I’m thinking about sharing tonight. Do you mind if I text you the demo?”

“Ooh, a first look! Hell yes!”

You text her the audio file and she puts in a wireless earbud, nodding along. Her smile gets wider and wider as she listens, and when she’s done, her assessment shocks you.

“Oh my gosh. You’re into Ellie.”

“What?!” you squeak. “No way!”

“You are! But, uh-”

“Don’t even say it. I know I don’t have a chance in hell. She only tolerates me for the sake of you and Peter.” Despite the gloominess of your tone, Yukio gets a mischievous glint in her eye, it confuses you. But, that’s just Yukio. Her thoughts are all over the place; she and Ellie balance each other out that way. They dated a couple of years ago, but it didn’t work out. They decided they were better off as friends.

“Screw that other song, we’re using this as the lead single. Everybody’s gonna love it, do you have the sheet music?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s in my bag.”

“Awesome.” Yukio’s grinning like she’s won something. Is the song that good? “We’ll have to practice this one a lot, we definitely need to have it ready by the concert this Friday.”

Right. Liz’s 19th birthday party. Apparently Peter had convinced her to let the band play, it’d be cheaper than hiring a more established artist.

“Our first paying gig? I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you remind her. She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“We’re mostly gonna be playing covers of Liz’s favorite songs, and she only has so many. We’ve gotta beef up the setlist with originals, and this is perfect! Has that pop-y fun vibe, it’ll fit right in.”

“Yeah, but if it’s that obvious how I feel about her after one listen-”

“Only because I already had a hunch after Daft Pretty Boys,” Yukio clarifies cheerily, and you sigh.

“Fair enough.”

The gang makes it to Michelle’s house, travelling down to the side door and going into the basement from there. MJ’s parents have encouraged her creativity from day one, and were ecstatic when the band was formed. You speculate that they’re mostly happy that she’s made friends. Writing and photography can be lonely hobbies.

“Y/N has something new for us!” Yukio chirps.

“That fast?” Ned’s surprised as you hand him the sheet music. He skims it. “Holy shit, this is a wicked solo! Thanks, Y/N!”

“Well, I’m hoping highlighting everybody else’s talent will disguise my lack thereof,” you chuckle.

“Don’t be stupid, we’ve all heard you sing backup,” MJ says. “You’re Ryan Ross, she’s Brendon Urie. I’m just glad we booted her out before she decided she was gonna be the only pangolin in The Pangolins.”

Everyone laughs at that.

“Let’s try it,” Michelle continues, and everybody agrees. After a sound check and a few runs of the song, it’s still clumsy, especially on your part. You’re not really used to playing and singing at the same time, outside of backup vocals, which require far less focus.

“I suck,” you mumble, but it happens to be into the microphone.

“You don’t!” Ned insists.

“With that attitude, we’re not going anywhere,” Yukio says. You hate it when she gets to the tough love stage of her support. You wish she’d stay in the shallow reassurances stage, it’s easier to brush off. “You wouldn’t be the lead singer if we all thought you sucked. We would’ve just put an ad in the paper. You’re awesome, get over it!”

You sigh.

“Fine. Thank you.”

“Say it,” she insists.

“I’m awesome,” you huff, it’s hard not to smile when Yukio tries to look serious.

“Damn straight,” Yukio says. “Or, I guess not, considering that was about Ellie.”

“Yukio!” you squeal.

“That’s about Ellie?!” Ned exclaims.

“Obviously,” MJ scoffs, fiddling with her tuners.

“Is it that obvious?!” You can’t help but feel embarrassed. Ellie probably knows exactly how you feel, maybe that’s why she dislikes you so much. Her boyfriend’s stupid friend has a crush.

“Wait, but at the beginning…” Ned trails off, before laughing. “Oh my gosh, I get it.”

“Get what? Oh… Y/N, have I ever told you how much I love you?” MJ asks.

“I- I love you, too?” You’re puzzled by their words, but you’ve got enough on your plate.

“Let’s go ahead and practice some of Liz’s favorites while we’re here,” Yukio suggests. “It’s a pretty big set list.”

You practice until dinner, getting a pizza and deciding to make a night of it since it was a little late for Michelle to be dropping you all off at your assorted residences.

You all sleep on a pallet in the basement, and despite your worries, you manage to get some rest.

Over the next few days, The Pangolins practice at every free moment, until it’s finally time for the party.

“So, just pictures of everything?” Oh, shit. She’s not supposed to be here. How are you supposed to sing that song with her here?

“Yeah! I know with how many people are coming, I’m probably not going to get as much time as I want with everyone, so pictures will be a good way to remember the night.”

“Why not just invite less people?” Ellie wonders.

“I want all my friends to be here,” Liz explains. “How’s the sound check going, Y/N?”

“It’s going great,” you say into the microphone, demonstrating the quality and volume with a smile. “Thanks for letting us play here tonight.”

“Well, Peter said you guys are great. Are you really gonna debut your best song so far tonight?”

“Oh, um,” you stutter, stepping away from the microphone. “Maybe not.”

“What? Oh, come on, please, it’ll make the night even more special! You’re playing covers of all my old favorites, sing me my new favorite!” Liz presses, but she’s not being demanding or bratty, she seems genuinely excited.

“If the birthday girl says so, who am I to say no?” you concede. Hopefully Ellie will be too distracted taking pictures. “You have way too much faith in me.”

“If you don’t quit with the self-deprecation, I’m gonna duct tape your mouth shut,” MJ interjects.

“But, Daddy, how will I say my safe word?” you tease, giggling at your own joke with the rest of the group. Yukio’s laugh seems the loudest. Ellie glares.

“We should practice a song!” Ned suggests.

“Ooh, a private show!” Liz seems excited.

“Any requests?” you ask her. Ellie’s resting scowl intensifies. If she’s more pissed off the more you open your mouth, you’re not sure how she’s gonna survive a night of you singing without going nuclear.

“Oh, oh, Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne, please?”

“You’ve got it,” you agree.

The song goes smoothly.

“What happened to the old singer?” Ellie asks, clearly unimpressed.

“You didn’t tell her?” you ask Yukio, grateful for the excuse to turn away from the sharp-tongued girl you adore.

“Didn’t want her to get the wrong impression,” Yukio explains. “She already makes enough rude comments towards you.” Yukio leans over her drum kit to give Ellie a pointed look.

“Oh, wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that. You, uh, sound good, Y/N.”

You can’t help but whip your head back to look at her with a flabbergasted expression.

“What?! It’s true,” Ellie defends herself.

“Uh, yeah, but you just said something nice. About me. Liz, do you mind checking her for a fever?”

Liz obliges for the sake of going along with the joke before quickly withdrawing her hand.

“Jeez! I know you were kidding, but she’s burning up,” Liz declares.

“My internal temperature is higher due to my mutation,” Ellie quickly explains, looking a bit bashful. “Besides, I say nice shit about Y/N all the time.”

“No, you don’t,” the whole band says in unison, including you.

“Well, clearly I shouldn’t if everyone’s gonna make a big fucking deal about it,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna go get some pictures of the decorations before there’s a bunch of fucking people here to block them.”

She stomps off in her heavy boots, and The Pangolins get back to work, putting on the final touches and making sure all the blocking looks right.

Soon enough, guests start flooding in, and Liz zips around to greet them, eventually meeting up with Peter and keeping him with her. He and Liz eventually pull Ellie away from her picture-taking, confident she’s done enough and needs to just relax and enjoy the party.

So much for distracting herself with work, she thinks.

They sit on the couch and eat, the dining room was monopolized by The Pangolins due to its elevation and space.

Ellie’s mesmerized by the way your fingers move until she hears Peter talking to Liz. They really are a cute couple.

“You really do need to hang out with us. Yukio told me Y/N thinks Ellie and I are a thing,” he says.

“Gross, you’re like my annoying little brother,” Ellie remarks.

“And you’re like my bitchy older sister,” Peter retorts with a shit-eating grin.

“Both of you, quiet! They’re about to play the new song. You’re in for a real treat, Ellie.”

“What does it have to do with me?”

Liz gives Peter a confused and slightly irritated look.

“I haven’t said anything to her, I didn’t know how,” Peter squeaks, blushing a little at the look in his girlfriend’s eyes.

“Explain, quickly,” Ellie demands.

But, then you start to sing again.

“Y/N-” Peter starts.

“Shut up.”

“But you asked-”

“I said, shut up,” Ellie insists.

“You know me as your boyfriend's goofy friend. I seem to have this effect on women, and your friends aren't as goofy as I am. I try my best to keep you entertained, always laughing at the jokes you are saying. I nod my head when you make a point, oh oh…

“Kiss me, kiss me with your eyes closed! Whisper that your heart shows all I want is you, yeah, you… Hold me, hold me I'm your bunny! Tell me I'm not funny, tell me I’m legit! ‘Cause I feel weak, in your hands and your feet… A precious end, I’ll never feel your touch…”

Ellie continues to listen to the song, all expression drained from her face. All the yearning in the words and your voice, all you want is…

Ellie looks at Peter, who’s looking at her with a triumphant smile.

“I told you.”

Ellie feels like she’s about to faint. She notices you’re talking to Liz— when did she leave? —your hand over your mic. Despite the knowledge that Liz is taken, Ellie gets jealous. You look so happy to be talking to Liz, to just about any girl you talk to.

She wishes you’d smile at her that way.

You nod at whatever Liz said, and the band starts packing away their instruments. Liz sets up her phone on some Bluetooth speakers, and songs that sounded so much better when you were singing them start to play.

No! Ellie internally protests. Sing for me again, please, sing that stupid song about how you think I don’t like you.

Yukio’s dragging you somewhere. Gosh, Ellie wishes it was her holding your hand.

Suddenly, though, you and Yukio are approaching her. She knows what she has to do.

“So, what’d you think of our- Eek! Finally!”

Ellie parts from the kiss to tell her to fuck off and not ruin the moment before kissing you again.

“Holy fucking shit,” you breathe. “Uh, I thought you were-“

“Dating Peter?! Seriously?! Do I need to write ‘dyke’ on my fucking forehead? I practically already have with the way I dress and act and-”

“I, uh, I try not to make assumptions,” you mumble, fingers touching your lips.

“I’m, uh, sorry for not asking.”

“No, it’s- It was good. I’ve wanted you to do that for a while. It’s just that that was the first time somebody’s kissed me, since, uh…” Your eyes dart to Yukio, who’s ruffling Ned’s hair and laughing.

“Yukio?!” Orange flickers in Ellie’s eyes for a moment, but she keeps it under control.

“No, no, of course not, uh… The old singer, Lola. She and Yukio were dating, but apparently I was the one she really had her sights on, and… She was entitled. Thought that because she wanted me, I must want her. That wasn’t really the case, I was already pining over you. Didn’t stop her from forcing a few kisses on me and trying to go further. If Yukio hadn't shown up early with cupcakes, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

“I am such an asshole,” Ellie says softly. “Can I kiss you again? The right way.”

“I’d say what you did before was pretty right, but sure,” you consent.

Her kiss before had been rough, needy, and impatient. Just the way you like it. This, though, this is gentle, soft, and exploratory. You tangle your hands in her hair and kiss her harder. She moans into the kiss before pulling away, bewildered.

“That was…” Ellie trails off, trying to find a positive adjective that won’t sound to frilly or lovesick.

“A mistake, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck, no. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she corrects you. “Just- Didn’t really know how. Even when you were kinda flirting with me at first, I just thought you were messing with me, so I- I am so stupid.”

“So am I,” you scoff. “I thought you were dating Peter.”

“I was spending a lot of time with him, but… I was just using him as an excuse to avoid you so I wouldn’t embarrass myself anymore. And I was asking him for advice. I figured if he could land somebody as far out of his league as Liz, maybe I stood the slightest bit of a chance with you. But I kept fucking it up. I’d just get so nervous, all of my compliments would turn into insults, all of my teasing turned into straight-up cruelty. I don’t know how you actually like me.”

“I’m a little bit of a masochist, I’ll admit,” you tell her. “I’m really glad you don’t hate me.”

“I’m really glad you don’t hate me,” Ellie replies, but she can’t help but think that what she‘s really saying is ‘I love you, too.’

She takes your hand, and you two rejoin your friends, swept up in a group hug. They wanted this to happen almost as much as you two did.

[ilikemesometaetaes]

Don’t Hold Your Breath ~ jjk

Chapter Six (M)

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes​

•••> Summary: As the CEO of an international government security company, you have the world at your fingertips. Living life lavishly and extravagantly has become the norm. Behind closed doors, however, you host a past that renders you lonely and, quite frankly, miserable. It’s only a matter of time before your past comes back to bite you right in the ass.

•••> Pairing(s): Jungkook/Reader, Taehyung/Reader (slight)

•••> Inspo: This fic is inspired by the song “SAVAGE ANTHEM” by PARTYNEXTDOOR. Thank you to @dariangarcia​​, @btssmutgalore​, and @junghoseokit​​ for supporting my work. To my mamas, Kaitlin, Adora, Lauren, Lanie, Lu, and Sher.

•••> Word Count: 7.81k

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Tags: Jungkook x Reader | Tattooed!Jungkook | angst | smut | ceo!au | rockstar!au | CEO!Reader | Rockstar!Jungkook | AU!BTS | Exes to Lovers

•••> Warnings: angst, dirty talk, sexual teasing, heartbreak, cursing, pining, depression, breakup, emotional instability, arguing | Warnings are written specifically to chapter.

Copyright © 2021 ilikemesometaetaes. All Rights Reserved.

Taglist: @dariangarcia​​​ @apurpledheart​​​ @itsgottabeyoo-ngs​​​ @hytibm​​ @namjinsbaby​​ @ggukkieland​​ @fan-ati--c​​

If you’d like to be added to the taglist, say so in a comment to this chapter or the DHYB Main Page, or send me an ask!

NAVIGATION: Chapter Five (M) <- | -> Chapter Seven (M) -> Mini-Masterlist -> Series Masterlist

•••> Official Playlist 

~#~

“I put the dirt into dirtbag. Still got your jacket in my bag.”

THEN.

“Kookie!” You screamed in between breaths, eyes watering at the struggle. “Stop! Please!”

“No way!” His laugh was buried in your hair as he pressed his face against the back of your head. “Apologize!”

“For what?” You wheezed, attempting to get away from the curling fingers that tickled your ribs relentlessly. His long legs were wrapped around your body, restricting your movement and effectively taking away almost any opportunity to escape.

“For calling me a singing demon!” His hands continued their assault, sending you into another laughing fit. You fought helplessly against his tattooed arms.

You wanted to bite back, but the lack of air in your lungs prevented you from doing so. Your heart beat wildly, adrenaline spiking and arms flailing against his grip. Desperation flooding your mind, you wrapped your hand around the one that caged your neck and dug your nails into his flesh in hopes that the pain would get him to weaken his hold.

Jungkook only laughed again and hummed teasingly. “Oh, just like that. Harder, baby.”

Squirming didn’t help much, but when you shifted your hips and felt something poking into your spine, you huffed with defeat on the horizon. His obvious boner signified that he liked your struggle- a clear indicator that there was no way he was letting you go any time soon.

Unless…

With another shift of your hips to grind your ass upwards on him, seating his dick between your clothed ass cheeks, you let the situation take over your body with your brain rewiring into a horny mindset in order to distract him.

“Jungkook,” You whispered through a gasp, hoping the change of pace would throw him off. It was a stunt you always pulled; whether it be during an argument or sex, changing the pace would unfocus your boyfriend’s attention and give you the upper hand.

Sure enough, Jungkook’s embrace around you loosened so that he could give himself more room to slide his manhood against you.

“Oh, baby...” He grunted into your ear with a sliver of surprise tainting his lust.

Slowly, so as to not trigger him, you slid one hand down his stomach and slid two fingers below the waistband of his shorts. With your body on top of him, you couldn’t go further inward, so you settled on harshly scraping your nails across his hip while you dug your other hand harder into his forearm.

“Please.” You said with more air in your lungs. Finally, you could breathe.

“Are you begging for me to fuck you?” His dick twitched against you, desperate to bury itself between your thighs. “Or are you pleading for mercy? Tell me, Y/N,”

Jungkook flipped the two of you over so that your chest pressed into the bed and his entire body pinned you to the mattress with a swift cant of his hips. “Which one is it?”

For a moment, you rolled your eyes and struggled to look at him from your compromised position. It wasn’t until your eyes caught sight of the numbers on the clock sitting on the nightstand that you began struggling with a new burst of concern in your mind.

“Jungkook!” You wheezed. “The time!”

“Answer my question, Y/N. I can stay here all night. The stage can wait.”

“But you’ll be late!” Your voice increased in volume.

“Only if you continue avoiding my question…” Jungkook trailed off for a moment before he leaned down to murmur softly in your ear. “Well, I’ll only be late if you refuse to let go of your pride to ask for mercy and beg for my cock instead. I will rearrange your guts if that is what you’re asking for.”

You huffed in frustration, the desire to fuck your boyfriend dissipating with his words. You knew that Jimin would be through the roof by now, searching high and low for the lead singer of BTS to dress him properly.

“Mercy.” You finally grumbled in defeat, not wanting to delay him any longer.

Almost disappointedly, Jungkook grunted as he removed his weight from on top of you. “Fine.”

“I’ll go turn on the car.” You got up and swiped the keys off of your dresser, thankful that you were still dressed in your internship clothes.

“You go do that.” Jungkook chuckled whilst sliding his shorts off of his body to reveal a very obvious boner tenting his boxers that you pretended to be oblivious of. “You’re a master at turning me on so I trust you with that.”

“Ew.” You grimaced at the poorly-delivered joke. “That was terrible.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was clever.” Jungkook chided.

“Not at all.” You quipped. After you watched him slide a pair of jeans up his muscular legs, you turned to leave. You just needed to make sure he got dressed. “I’ll be in the car.”

~#~

Jimin’s knowledge of art always mystified you. His prowess wasn’t the type of intelligence like knowing how Picasso depicted the loss of innocence in Guernica or how the melting clocks of Dali introduced surrealism to the world of art- no, that was Taehyung’s strong-suit.

Jimin knew how to create his own version of art that left viewers wistful and in absolute awe by making a stage the vessel of his masterpieces.

As you sat on the balcony, overlooking the crowd while they all thrashed and jumped to the beat of Hoseok’s bass drum and the duo of guitars that was Namjoon and Jungkook, you just had to sit back in your chair and stare at the composition that was Jimin’s show.

Flashes of blue and red lights swept across the crowd, printing themselves temporarily into the crowd’s retinas so that when the opposite color came back, a light hue of purple was brought into the experience for a fleeting moment. Short puffs of fire whenever Namjoon strummed a power chord warmed your face, even from the distance in which you sat from the stage, and lasers shot through the crowd every time Yoongi penetrated the sounds of his group with the keys of his keyboard.

Graphics on the jumbotron behind the band, which were also of Jimin’s creation, outlined each member with curls of dark, tentacle-like wisps that matched the purple hue of the crowd with its raven color.

The last song of the setlist, Blue and Grey, was one you were all too familiar with. The lights faded to a soft blue for a moment as Taehyung began the first strong notes with his bass and the crowd in the venue whooped and hollered in excitement- Blue and Grey was BTS’ most popular song. A year and a half into their journey of being a band and they already had a crowd favorite.

As Taehyung continued his bass line with his guitar and tattooed strumming arm put on display by Jimin’s spotlight, Jungkook leaned into the mic and began strumming his own guitar.

“Where is my angel?”

You sighed and leaned forward in your seat, loving the way Jungkook’s voice carried throughout the performance hall.

Taehyung accompanied Jungkook with the intro until Hoseok joined in to transition into the first verse with his high hat and snare drum.

Once the chorus hit, you couldn’t help but stand from your seat as you began to feel the power of BTS’ music rocking the venue.

“I just wanna be happier. To melt the cold me.”

Jungkook’s neck veins bulged from his skin as he belted out the notes, sweat dribbling down his temples from exertion. Even as he huffed for breath in between his lines, the image of him dressed in all black and owning the stage while ripping his fingers through his guitar strings was one you could never get tired of.

The songs were full of angst- the dark, unspoken feelings that not many people talked about- and you loved how you heard them from Jungkook through music. If only he were this honest when it was just the two of you.

“Don’t say it’s okay, ‘cause it’s not okay.” Jungkook closed up his lines with a heartbreaking tone that every fan in the crowd sang along with as Namjoon prepared to sing his part. For a brief moment, your boyfriend met your eyes across the large venue.

“Please don’t leave me alone. It hurts too much.”

~#~

NOW.

You walked into your building, grateful for the warm protection it offered against the freezing winter of New York City.

Noticing the lack of staff around, being that there was only the elevator operator and the receptionist sitting behind the marble counter, you glanced at your watch to check just how long you spent working.

20:17, your watch read. You had been working in front of computer screens and reading contracts for almost 9 hours.

“Greetings, ma’am!” The receptionist stood from his chair. “May I be of any service to you this evening?”

You shook your head to the man and continued on your path to the elevator where the other employee in the lobby waited to take you up. “None needed. I’ll be leaving momentarily.”

“Very well. Please let me know if you need anything.” He sat back down and turned his gaze to the computer in front of him.

The sound of your pumps echoed against the vast but empty room until you stopped in front of the elevator where the woman already had the doors opening in preparation.

“Good evening, ma’am.” She said lowly.

“ ‘Evening.” You responded, stepping inside without another word. The woman kept the conversation at that, which you appreciated, so you smiled at her in gratitude after you placed your key in the penthouse slot. She returned your smile with her own before the doors closed to encase you in silence.

The ride up was quiet, warranting you to pull out your phone so that you could read over your conversation with Taehyung again.

Why am I wearing think socks? I hate thick socks.

Read at 8:01 pm

Trust me. You’ll regret it if you don’t.

Is that so? Why?

Read 8:03 pm

Just wear the damn socks, Y/N.

Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?

Read 8:04 pm

Negative, captain

Tf

Why am I a captain now

Read 8:04 pm

Cuz I said so. Now stop talking or you’ll make me give away my position

Alright.

Read 8:05 pm

I said stop talking

…?

Read 8:05 pm

Fucking hell.

You let a small giggle slip past your lips at how normal the text conversation was. It was as if you never stopped talking to him, slipping into the normalcy of having Taehyung back in your life as quickly as it had been to cut him out of it. You zoned out for a moment in thought.

The strange sensation of friendship didn’t take any getting used to as it settled itself back into your bones and filled your heart with warmth like it never left- like the ice covering the beating organ was only temporary. As you stood alone, staring shallowly at the increasing floor numbers, you smiled in content.

The elevator slowed as the cabin came close to reaching the top floor, bringing you back to your senses. Sliding your phone back into the pocket of your slacks, you looked up once the elevator doors opened, only to drop your briefcase to the floor loudly.

Jungkook sat against the wall beside your door with his knees tucked under his chin and his arms wrapped around his legs. At the sound of your clumsiness clattering on the ground, his gaze snapped to you as he scrambled to stand up.

Anger flooded you immediately. You wanted to backhand him and rip his hair out. You wanted to scream and cry and lose your shit. However much you wanted to hurt him, though, you could not afford catching an assault charge on the man who defaced you once before.

There was a break of silence as you stood staring at him, unsure of how to handle the punch in your mood while the memories were forced to surface in your mind.

“Y/N…” Jungkook trailed, breaking the tangible barrier of tension. He took a step forward whilst obviously hesitating. “I-”

Instead of screaming at him, you went for the more sophisticated and controlled route to keep your lividity at bay whilst stopping his sentence in its tracks.

“How did you get up here?” It was a sensible question to ask. You just wanted to prevent him from deepening the conversation.

“I pulled some strings.” He murmured, looking down almost shyly, before piping up with more confidence. “But listen, I-”

“Save it.” You cut him off again, unable to control your facade much longer. “Get the fuck out of my face.”

His anxious expression turned worried- desperate. You didn’t miss the way his eyes became more expressive than you’ve ever seen them. “Please, Y/N.”

“Please what, Jungkook?”

“Please just give me a moment to speak.”

For a beat, you pondered his request. Taehyung’s words weighed heavily on your mind. We needed to talk.

Fuck talking. You have been done talking for ages.

“Wow.” You scoffed coldly, ice barriers slamming back into place over your heart. Taehyung had been able to melt them away, but Jungkook put them right back with fierce determination to completely ruin you. “You just want to take everything from me, huh?”

“Y/N, what-“ He blinked cluelessly, caught off-guard by your sarcasm.

“I gave you years to speak, Jungkook. I gave you everything.” You stepped forward, the boiling rage overtaking your body, and came to a stop in front of him with the fury of a charging bull. You wanted him to feel small and vulnerable.

“What else could I possibly give you? I have nothing left.” He took everything. The veins in your body were emptied and exhausted of every single ounce of energy to fight for someone.

You were unaware of the way Jungkook’s fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white and his nails dug into his palms.

You failed to notice how much he trembled under your gaze, physically struggling to protect his butterfly from your wrath.

Your vicious swings at the dainty being of hope were nothing compared to what he, himself, had done to it. Jungkook found it ironic that you gave him an aspect that he was just barely strong enough to protect yet took the darker things from inside him and destroyed them as if they were mere placeholders- as if you were his puppeteer.

You were too stressed to realize the toll it took on Jungkook to keep his act together. He needed to keep the door open long enough to be your friend. Anything to prevent losing you. Earlier, his demons swooped in and overtook him, suffocating him to silence once again, but for the first time, they ebbed away at the mere thought of you.

As he walked down the street with his stage persona flowing, the simple thought of your name empowered his butterfly to beat its wings so fiercely that it blew away all of the impending smoke and dark tentacles of smog that threatened to overtake his vision.

Once he thought of you, he thought of everything.

Your anger was justified. He understood that now. Watching you huff breath after breath following your question was somehow relieving- you still cared enough to be pissed off. Jungkook forced himself to look on the bright side of the encounter with you; he made himself see that you were still passionate about the past. You were passionately upset and he couldn’t be happier.

He had seen you with Taehyung. He saw the way you were happy again. Jungkook wanted a part of that because he was too selfish to back off and stay dormant in your life- too determined to make you silence his demons.

Even if it was just as a friend. He could deal with that.

“You’re right.” Jungkook stated.

You paused in your tracks at the concession. Anger no longer blazing- staying right where it was- you quirked an eyebrow at him. Any time the two of you fought, he would never come even close to alluding that you were right.

“You’re right and I’m sorry, Y/N.”

An apology.

Words always seemed minimal to you. Unless to communicate information, you found that words filled with feeling didn’t mean much from someone you didn’t know.

After Jungkook, anyone that told you they loved you was promptly deemed a liar. Kate worked hard to make sure you were aware of the fact that she would actually take a bullet for you because of how much she loved you. She spent moment after moment proving to you that she cared deeply even though she didn’t have to put up with you.

Your parents, despite not talking to you much, expressed their love and gratitude whenever you sent them money. You knew they were hard workers like you and didn’t have time to worry about trivial things like words. Instead of taking the easy way out by simply telling you that they loved you, they showed you.

But Jungkook, who claimed to love you in the way that a lover would- the only person to actually do so- lied.

You could never trust the words in that way again.

Still, you couldn’t help but be taken by surprise.

“I’m right? Really?”

“Y/N, you’ve been right since the beginning. I took and took and just stopped giving back. I understand that you’re angry and I want to fix it so that you don’t hate me anymore. I want to make it right.”

You were silent. You hadn’t expected him to admit his fault so easily. Jungkook changing the pace of your conversation ruined your momentum, sending you stumbling and scrambling for thoughts.

Jungkook sighed for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line as he let his eyes drop to the floor in your silence. He wasn’t about to lose the opportunity to elaborate further, though.

“Look, I know I fucked up. Bad. I know you can’t possibly forgive me right now, but I want you to know that I’m sorry for the things I’ve done to you.”

Your automatic reaction to being emotionally pushed came back, closing you down and disguising you as a cold woman.

“What the fuck do you know? What the fuck do you know about how badly you fucked up? I don’t need your lame-ass apology, Jungkook. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. Stop pretending that you do. Sure, we fucked a little and kissed a few times, but that’s all that it was.” You grit out the last few words, lying through your teeth. “Now please move. You’re blocking the door.”

Shockingly, Jungkook obeyed. He stepped aside and clasped his hands behind his back without another word, allowing you to walk to your door and open it.

Don’t look back. Don’t look back.

No matter how many times you repeated the words in your head, commanding yourself to abide by the mantra as if it were law, the emotions in your head managed to break through and force your head to turn back after stepping through the doorway.

Jungkook stood as still as a statue, staring at you with a blank expression that was almost eerie. You glanced down quickly, unable to maintain the eye contact, and noticed that his knuckles were clenched.

It was almost as if he was a completely different person because of the fact that his appearance was drastically different from that of BTS Jungkook. The man that stood in front of you was no rockstar. He was not an idol nor a role model that millions looked up to.

He was a scared boy. The fear that riddled his eyes was extremely difficult to miss and it made him seem almost small whilst standing in the small junction between the elevator and your penthouse.

You shut the door in his face impulsively, hoping that you wouldn’t have to see him again.

Backing away from the door slightly, you waited until you heard the elevator signal that its doors were closing before going to look through the peephole. You finally released your breath and slumped against the door when you saw that he had left.

Without his presence putting you on edge and keeping you on your toes, you could finally reflect on the conversation that just transpired.

He admitted his wrongdoings and apologized for them. He showed you his belly and became vulnerable. He admitted defeat.

Jungkook wasn’t an apologetic person in the slightest; he wasn’t a forgiving one either. In all the years that you had known him, he was headstrong and stubborn- if you looked past the part where he closed himself off and cheated, of course.

This Jungkook, the one you had just spoken to, was not the one you remember. Maybe you were right. Maybe you didn’t know him anymore.

Your phone vibrating in your pocket distracted you from pondering any further over the epiphany, prompting you to pull it out and fumble with it to get away from the confusing subject. You were thankful for the distraction.

Kim Taehyung (BTS)

I’ll be out front in 15 mins

Cursing internally, you left the idea of Jungkook behind you and rushed to change into clothes better suited for the cold weather.

It was a given that a small smile pulled at the corner of your lips when you slid thick tube socks over your ankles. You hadn’t actually worn tube socks in ages because they didn’t exactly go with your usual professional style of suits and heels.

You zipped your coat up about three-fourths of the way before turning to look at yourself in your mirror with a huff.

Suddenly, you were bombarded with a memory as it flashed before your eyes.

“You know you look good, babe.”

You giggled as Jungkook came up behind you to look at you in the reflection, setting his chin on your shoulder while he used his tongue to toy with the hoop pierced into his lip.

“Thanks, Kook. Just want to look my best is all.” You met his eyes in your bedroom mirror, smiling softly.

“Well, you look beautiful.”

You were left staring at the empty space where his face was, unsure of how to react as you stumbled back from the intrusion. Another meaningless scene came barging into your senses before you could process the first.

“Wow…” You trailed off as you looked at the angry red spot on Jungkook’s chest. A brand new tattoo, the size of your hand, raised out of his skin and shined under the luminescent light of the tattoo parlor. With the tattoo artist cleaning up his station behind the two of you, you were left to admire his beauty in his reflection.

Jungkook stood shirtless in front of the full-length mirror as he smiled brightly at the last tattoo to complete his set. Your eyes drank in the way each exhibit of inked art contrasted with his smooth, caramel expanse of skin while you stood behind him.

The new piece, which was almost large enough to touch the Chinese characters stamped onto the side of his neck and the back of his ear, was a depiction of an angel falling from the heavens. The detail in the blackening feathers attached to the angel’s back was mesmerizing, drawing all of the attention from the rest of the tattoos covering Jungkook’s chest.

“Is there any special meaning behind it?” You asked, knowing that your boyfriend had a few meaningless tattoos that were part of his ‘woke-up-and-it-was-there’ collection.

For a moment, Jungkook stayed silent as he studied the work of art in the mirror. It wasn’t until you called his name again that he answered your question while meeting your gaze in the reflection.

“Nah. It just looked really cool to me.”

You pressed your hand to your forehead and looked away from your mirror, wondering why- now, of all times- you just had to remember those small memories.

You didn’t miss him- you know you didn’t. But something within you twisted at the thought of being with him- the memory of how it felt to be his.

The disconnect between the feelings of your heart and the thoughts of your mind, ever so obvious, shifted. His apology was unexpected, to say the least, but it was also surprisingly heartfelt and pulling on your need to forgive.

Saved by the bell, your landline phone began to ring.

You rushed to the bedside table and grabbed the phone from its dock, pulling it to your ear.

“Ms. Y/L/N? It’s the front desk. Mr. Kim Taehyung is here and waiting for you.”

“Got it. Thank you. I’ll be down in a moment.” You hung up the phone and grabbed your wallet and keys before shuffling over to your desk to grab your briefcase on instinct.

“Wait,” you spoke aloud, laughing at yourself and withdrawing your reach. “I don’t need that.”

As you opened the door to your penthouse, the sound of something lightly hitting your door had you looking down.

A small, navy blue bag, the size of your palm, swung from the doorknob and hit lightly against the wood from the momentum of you opening your door. Confused, you unhooked the loop from the doorknob and looked inside the bag to find a familiar-looking box inside.

Gingerly, you pulled it out and opened it. In the way of the box’s contents was a folded piece of notebook paper with your name scrawled across the top in Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

You held your breath after reading the note and looked down at the small charm.

Since you gave me yours, I’ll give you mine. -jk

In the fabric of the satin display lay the familiar gold chain that Jungkook gifted you those few years ago, but, instead of the small J that you were so familiar with, lay your own initial.

You knew Jungkook’s way with words well enough to know that the small note connected his intentions to the chain. You were instantly pulled back to the night that he gifted the necklace to you in the first place.

“It’s beautiful. Happy one-year, babe.” You whispered onto his lips with a smile.

After you sat back into your seat, Jungkook walked to your side of the table to put the chain around your neck. “I obviously have the describe how much this necklace means so that you never take it off.”

You laughed. “I wouldn’t even dream of taking it off, Kook.”

“I still need to explain. It was like a message from heaven when I saw them in the jewelry store.” He pouted, returning to his seat. “So the idea with these is that we’re wearing parts of each other. You’re wearing the part of me that belongs to you and I’m wearing the part of you that belongs to me.”

Jungkook continued as he raised his glass. “So even though you think this necklace is yours because it’s your letter, it’s actually mine.”

You cocked your head in confusion, struggling to understand the concept. “What are you talking about?”

“It sounded so much better in my head, I swear.”

You understood the idea now.

Push off the emotions. Don’t think about them.

You were hellbent on ignoring the weakness, knowing full well what path you would go down if you let them get to you.

Instead, you made your way down to the lobby with the bag gripped tightly in your mitten-clad hands, heading to the desk with determination furrowing your brow. Even as Taehyung stood from the small sofa in the lobby upon seeing you, you did not spare him a glance.

Forcefully, you thrusted the bag into the receptionists’ face, internally wincing at your rude gesture.

“Please put this in the lost and found. I have no idea where it came from.��

The receptionist did well at hiding his expression, however, you could still see a sense of somber recognition behind his eyes. You decided not to press him seeing as you want to avoid the topic of Jungkook like the plague.

“Understood, ma’am.” He took the bag from your grasp before you had the chance to rethink addressing his slip of emotion, placing it in a drawer by his knee. He looked back up and gestured to Taehyung after locking the drawer. “Mr. Kim is here for you.”

You sighed in a mild sense of accomplishment, forcing yourself to shut out the regret and sadness for giving away a formerly precious memory, before turning to face Taehyung with a small smile to mask your inner turmoil. Your smile faltered when you noticed that Taehyung mirrored the same expression on his face that the receptionist wore.

“What?” You asked, walking to him.

“I just-” He looked down for a moment, scowling, and you noticed he had placed his small barbell back into his eyebrow. “-nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Why won’t you tell me anything?” The two of you had walked to the door, stopping before going out into the cold so that you could finish your conversation.

“Like I said before, it’s not my place to say or judge.”

Taehyung opened the door to an icy gust of wind before you could protest, chilling you into a mind-numbing stupor as you whispered, “Holy fucking shit.”

“Good god, it is freezing.” Taehyung mumbled, linking an arm around your body and ushering you towards his SUV across the sidewalk.

Once sat inside the warmth of the cabin, you shivered in satisfaction at the heat gracing your body.

“Please tell me we’re not going to be outside for whatever we’re doing.” You pleaded to him. The light from the city was filtered by the darkened car windows, however, you could still see Taehyung’s shoulders moving up and down when he chuckled.

“Unfortunately, we are, but fortunately, I brought some heat packs for us.”

You whined in protest, looking up to the GPS screen in front of the driver to see if you could identify where the two of you were going. Without a route plotted, you were left even more curious.

About twenty minutes of small talk and a brief roast session targeting Hoseok later, you sat in front of the ice skating rink at the Rockefeller Center.

“We’re ice skating?” You asked, suddenly in shock. You hadn’t been ice skating since-

No. Stop it. Your mind warred with itself as it suppressed the memory threatening to spill over into your eyes.

“You’re quite the detective.” Taehyung’s sentence was drenched in sarcasm, functioning as the perfect distraction, and prompted you to lightly shove him with a giggle as you exited the vehicle.

“I thought I was a captain.” You pouted against the cold, pulling your hat down on your head even further in hopes of retaining your body heat and warmth from the van.

“You are.” Taehyung laughed again. “Captain Detective.”

You only rolled your eyes at his playfulness before you turned to face the rink from the sidewalk. A person passing behind you and bumping into your back lightly had you cursing New York City’s busy and bustling population.

Seeing all of the people on the rink, you instantly remembered that you did not inform Jay of your whereabouts.

“Do we have security?” Worry riddled your brain as you turned to look at him with your eyes widening in a panic. You became hyperaware of all of the possible outcomes to Taehyung being identified in such a crowded place.

Taehyung sighed as he walked you up to the ticket booth. “We don’t. I just want to have a normal and plain but fun time with my friend- without someone glaring at me like they don’t want to be here while they breathe down my neck.”

Despite understanding his statement, you couldn’t help the automatic stress to being in public without any form of protection.

“Taehyung,” You warned, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Y/N,” He mocked your tone childishly before leveling it to his regular voice. “Relax, weirdo. We’re here to have fun and people are too busy having their own fun to notice us.”

“I doubt that.”

It wasn’t until you got your rental skates tightly secured onto your feet and began walking toward the ice that Taehyung mentioned a vital detail that he definitely should have mentioned prior to arriving at the center.

“You what?” You were baffled to say the least.

“I can’t skate.” He sheepishly brought his hand to the back of his head and adjusted his trapper hat under your scrutiny.

“Then why did we come?” You were almost yelling at that point.

“Because Brian told me that you liked ice skating!” Taehyung gripped at your fingers tightly, anxiety getting the best of him.

Fucking hell, Brian.

“Did he?” Your laugh was almost hysterical because of how wrong he was. You were becoming increasingly hesitant about giving your personal assistant a raise now.

Still, it was worth the effort. Brian was just trying to help the world’s most popular bassist when he came to him in need of information. It was a decent attempt.

“Yeah,” Taehyung huffed. “He did.”

“Well, Tae, I’ll have you know,” You moved towards the ice rink with determination. “I haven’t been ice skating in ages and I hardly like it. Hopefully, I still have muscle memory.”

“Oh god.” Taehyung groaned, tipping his head back as the feeling of imminent and utter chaos ensued. “Fucking hell, Brian.”

As soon as you stepped on the ice, you realized that you were still perfectly coordinated enough to complete the task.

Taehyung, on the other hand, clung to the walls like the world was attempting to swallow him into the ground. Dutifully, you stood next to him with a cautious hand on his back in the case that he went tumbling.

The sight was one to behold.

Kim Taehyung, hard core rockstar- the physical definition of a stereotypical ‘bad boy’- with tattoos littering his skin and a glistening eyebrow piercing that was winking at you from under his gray trapper, stood hunched over and afraid as he moved baby step-by-baby step to proceed further around the rink. You couldn’t help but giggle as the man who possessed the prowess of an elegant panther on stage adopted the likes of a stumbling newborn giraffe within the span of five minutes.

You were still concerned for him despite how funny it was. Tentatively, you reached your hand to grip his shoulder and urged him to look at you.

“Tae, are you okay? We can do something else if you’d like.”

“No, it’s okay.” He wheezed in effort. “I got this.”

Making a show out of how brave he was, Taehyung stood up straight on shaky legs and began progressing forward by attempting to walk on the ice.

“I can show you how t-” Taehyung cut off your offer before you could finish it.

“I’ve been shown countless times how to skate and the best I can do is walk and maybe slide forward a little. I’m a lost cause, Y/N.” Even though he seemed upset, Taehyung couldn’t help but crack a smile at how clumsy he was.

You smiled pitifully at your clumsy friend before you stepped in front of him. “Here, hold onto my shoulders and we’ll slide forward together.”

All Taehyung could do was begrudgingly agree, hating the idea of having to lean on you for support but wanting to remain close to you for the majority of the night. Once he placed his hands tightly on your shoulders, you moved.

At first, you skated slowly so that Taehyung could adjust to the feeling of being pulled forward. Once he got the hang of keeping his legs locked so that you could move around easier, you skated at a normal speed.

After about ten minutes of joking around and catching Taehyung’s slipping form a handful of times, your mind was left free and without defense.

You hadn’t realized how vulnerable you were because of it.

“Y/N, slow down! I can’t go that fast!”

Your breathing came to a halt at the voice that echoed in your ears.

“Here, hold my hand and we’ll skate together.”

Panicking, you rushed your mind to shut it out. No. Stop.

Unknowingly, the chaos in your mind and the desperate need to get away from the memories had you gradually increasing your own speed to subconsciously escape your thoughts.

Taehyung’s nervous laugh and call of your name in warning fell on deaf ears while you furrowed your eyebrows in concentration.

“See? It’s easy. Just step and lean. Step- and lean.” His hand clutched yours as if he was trying to squeeze all of the blood from your fingers but you only squeezed back in reassurance.

“Don’t let me fall, please.”

Taehyung’s skate crashing into the back of yours served as the perfect distraction, yet it only lasted for a split second as the two fo you went tumbling to the ice in a hauntingly familiar manner.

In the process of falling, Taehyung had managed to wrap his arms around your waist and twist his body so that he could take most of the impact from the ice. Landing on top of him with an ‘oof’ reminded you of the last time you went ice skating.

Even with your face mere centimeters from your friend’s, all you saw was him.

Taehyung’s small puffs of air against your lips were an indicator of how close you were to kissing him. Truly, you could kiss him if you wanted to, needing only to relax your neck and let your head fall to close the rest of the minimal gap between you. He looked up at you with wide eyes, holding onto your gaze with an unreadable expression on his face.

All you saw, however, was a small mole dotting the underside of his lips. Fuck, you wanted to kiss Taehyung and rid yourself of the nightmare, but you couldn’t shake the sensation of how wrong it felt to kiss anyone but Jungkook.

“Y/N,” Taehyung called your name cautiously and pulled you from your thoughts. Instantly, your eyes welled with tears at the realization of how fucked you were.

You yanked yourself from him with abandon, needing to get far away from the reminder that you couldn’t move on.

Kim Taehyung was mature. He was kind and respectful- everything you could ask for in a man- yet the thoughts of Jungkook and the good memories you had with him outweighed the bad, preventing you from truly letting go.

Before Taehyung could protest, you stood and left him on the ice, making for a quick exit. You wanted to go back and help him up so that he wasn’t in danger, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face in this setting.

Instead, you skated off the rink and walked to the skate rental area, plopping down on the bench weakly to untie the laces. Once you did so, you set them on the counter and waited for your boots with your eyes on the ground. You didn’t want anyone to see you on the brink of crying.

“Y/N!” Taehyung’s voice was loud and attention-grabbing. You had half the mind to be concerned that he would cause people to notice him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you finally got your boots and rushed to put them on. Taehyung was finally off the ice when you slid the first boot on.

“Y/N,” He called your name again, awkwardly approaching you with the blades still on his feet. “Please, talk to me.”

You could only sniffle in response and continue to put your boots back on, a fresh wave of tears welling in your eyes and threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You’d kept them at bay thus far but Taehyung was making it extremely difficult as his comfort approached you. The welcome yet heartbreaking aura he exhumed paired with your teetering emotional stability wouldn’t fare well in such a public setting.

Without hesitation, you stood and walked away once you were done securing your shoes back on your feet. Again, you felt the urgent need to be alone.

And again, Taehyung was right behind you as he ran without putting his shoes back on.

“Y/N!” He grabbed you as he called your name more sternly, forcing you to face him. Your eyes met his briefly before you looked back down to the pavement and cursed yourself once a tear slipped out. “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Because I-” Your breath caught in your throat as it constricted due to the beginning of a sob building in your chest. You cleared your throat and struggled to breathe your way through your response- one you had trouble communicating. “-I just can’t.”

Taehyung grimaced, looking around with concern, before he ushered your body to begin walking away from the busy area.

Once you were a good distance down the street, he grabbed both of your shoulders and forced you to face him once again. Away from the well-lit area of the ice rink, the only light that shone in the middle of the dark night was that of the street lights. With bated breath, you looked up at your friend with your mouth closed tightly so that the sob in your chest wouldn’t come barging past your lips.

The pain was nearly unbearable. It anguished you, knowing that you were stupid enough to think that you could eventually move on from Jungkook. It pained you, being aware of the fact that Taehyung had offered himself to you and you did nothing but continue to look at Jungkook.

But most of all, it hurt that you still wanted Jungkook.

If only you could reach into your chest and tear your heart out so that you couldn’t feel anymore. If only you could shut off your feelings so that it didn’t agonize you like this. If only it were that easy.

Under the light of the street lamps with Taehyung’s look of pity- the one he held as he looked at you across the club on that dreadful night those few years ago- on you, you broke.

As you began sobbing, Taehyung pulled you against his body and backed up into the darkness to give you the privacy to cry without being seen.

The pain stabbed your heart repeatedly; quick blows, shallow at first, became increasingly deep as you drowned in the memories of what once was.

Falling so passionately in love became your biggest regret. For so long, you hated the idea. You hated the fact that you still loved Jungkook notwithstanding the things he had done. You denied the fact until you started seeing the good memories again- until it was an unavoidable and objective truth.

The truth that you still loved him.

As Taehyung held you tightly in his embrace while you held your hands to your face and dug your nails into your skin, you sobbed uncontrollably at how completely and royally fucked you were.

“W-why-” You blubbered into your palms. “-why do I-I still lo-ove him?”

“Because your heart wants what it wants, Y/N. You have no control over that.”

At this point, you had to tell him how you felt- how you truly felt.

“I w-wish that it wa-anted you. I’m so sorry, T-Tae.”

“Hey, now. Don’t say that. It’s a waste of time to wish for things that you have no control over. Don’t waste a wish on something stupid like that.” Taehyung pressed his face to the top of your head, pressing his lips there to leave a small kiss. “Besides, I have someone waiting for me back home so you don’t need to worry anymore.”

Instantly, you looked up at him in shock while still hiccuping. “You do?”

“Of course.” Taehyung laughed warmly, smiling down at you. “I wasn’t gonna be stuck on you forever. One way or another, you move on.”

“It’s been years since I’ve even seen him, Tae. The fact that I still haven’t moved on despite that has to tell you something.”

“Which is why I told you that you still need to talk to him. You can’t move on or do anything about the way you feel unless you communicate it.” He pulled back to bend his body to become eye-level with you so that he could look you in the eyes as he spoke. “There’s things you don’t know.”

For a moment, you weighed his words in your mind. If they’re things that Taehyung can’t tell you because they’re ‘not his place’ to say, then you figure that the matter must be a serious one. Your curiosity was getting the best of you. It wasn’t long before you gave in.

“Yeah…” You trailed off in hesitation, suddenly regretting shutting out Jungkook. “I guess I do need to talk to him.”

“Please just… take your time and be patient with him.” Taehyung winced slightly. “He’s hot-headed but he’s a lot better than he was before. I promise you that.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Taehyung.” You scowled as you backed out of his embrace.

“You know I don’t. I would never suggest that you talk to him if he was the same as he was before.”

A few beats of silence passed before you asked the question that had been nagging at your mind since your revelation of remaining love for the lead singer of BTS.

“Do you think we still have a chance?”

Taehyung answered immediately. “That’s not my place to judge. All I know is that you guys did something sad like being broke up even though you had life.”

“Good god, Tae,” You huffed out a laugh. “Are you quoting Lil Dicky right now?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” Taehyung crossed his arms and let out a small ‘hmph’ as he lightly stomped his foot onto the sidewalk. “And you can’t stop me.”

For a while, Taehyung let you catch your breath and calm down while looking up and down the street. It seemed as if he was planning something.

Before you could process what he was doing, Taehyung took you by your arm, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, and began walking across the street. You looked up in the direction of your path and noticed that you were heading towards the quaint coffee shop that seemed to be the only open place at the current hour.

Your eyes hurt from crying. Your chest ached from sobbing and hiccuping. Your heart and head hurt as they came to blows with each other. You were slowly beginning to freeze as the calming of your emotions slowed your heart and cooled your body. It was so fucking cold.

You could use a coffee right about now.

~#~

Thank you for reading, reader! If you’d like to check out the rest of my work, feel free to visit my Masterlist!

[putschki1969]

Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 Review

Note: I FINALLY got my package. Now that I watched the full live in HD, I thought I would share m thoughts and a little present below the cut ^_^ As always, I would like to encourage everyone to SUPPORT Wakana by BUYING her Blu-ray!!! Her sales numbers aren’t the greatest which is a huge shame since this is a solid release.

Overall thoughts: I got the Limited Edition of course since I couldn’t resist the pretty sleeve packaging, the bonus documentary (so insightful) and the photobook (scans coming up soon). It is quite pricey but totally worth the money, especially if you are among those fans who liked “Magic Moment” much more than Wakana’s debut album. The release comes with a gorgeous clearfile as tokuten so be sure to get it! Try going for the Regular Edition if you want to save money. As for the live itself, it was a pleasure to watch and I can see myself rewatching it a lot (skipping a few songs though :P). Wakana’s voice coaching lessons are definitely starting to pay off. She has so much stamina these days. Can you believe that this was her SECOND live performance of the day? Her vocals were solid, even during her high-demand power ballads. At rarely any point did she sound overly-screechy to my ears, there were certain sections that didn’t sound 100% smooth but those parts definitely didn’t take away from my  overall enjoyment. On a side note, this live was a feast for the eyes, Wakana looked absolutely beautiful in her white dress and I even liked her encore outfit even though it was a little “out there” XD During the more up-beat songs, her smile literally lit up the entire hall. Seeing her have so much fun on stage is healing. I feel like they may have gone a little overboard on the blurry filters from time to time but I guess that was on purpose. 

1.揺れる春: 6/10. This is obviously the perfect cute intro for a Spring Lives so I understand why Wakana put it here but I would have much preferred “breathing” as a grand entrance. Still so sad that this is the only song from the “magic moment” album that didn’t make it onto the setlist of this live. I know, we already got an official audio recording but I would have loved some video footage to accompany it :P Anyways, back to Yureru Haru. I haven’t really warmed up to the song yet. It’s not bad and I honestly love the verses since they are super precious and feel kinda nostalgic but the chorus doesn’t stand out imo. Also, her singing style during parts of the chorus isn’t my favourite and not overly flattering. 2.where: 4/10. Oh no!! I was hoping Wakana would be singing the “ohhhohhhs”. She could have easily done it during the start and middle part of the song since it wasn’t overlapping with her other vocals. This seems so rushed? Is it just me? I haven’t listened to the studio version in a while but I know that I quite enjoyed that and it definitely didn’t make me feel as fidgety as this. Don’t know what it is exactly but it keeps me from getting into the song. I guess this is the biggest disappointment for me because I wanted to like it. 3.君だけのステージ: 4/10. I will admit it, this is not my favourite song. It’s just way too long :P But it is a very good and energetic performance, really no complaints when it comes to Wakana. But experiencing it live at the venue would have made it so much better for me. Oh well, nothing that can be done about it. The scat part at the end was a pleasant surprise. Would have loved to hear more of that. 4.442: 100/10. Honestly a masterpiece. One of Wakana’s best solo songs up-to-date and so very perfect to show off her vocals. Hearing it live like this with a band arrangement is a revelation. I love the wailing in the beginning and all the strength she conveys throughout the rest of the song. 5.ひらり ひらり: 3/10. Another song I haven’t warmed up to yet. No real thoughts. It’s one of those songs that’s just very forgettable, not bad per se but there is just nothing at all that attracts me to it. :-( As you can tell, I wasn’t entirely happy with some of the setlist choices. Wakana obviously wanted to include all the album songs but some of them are just not my cup of tea T_T 6.夕焼け: 6/10. This is one of the pieces that gets better every time I listen to it. And the latter half of the song is generally much nicer. I am always surprised by how much I actually like it when it’s over :P 7.アキノサクラ Acoustic ver.: 7/10. I am distracted by that harmonica sound-alike thingy Satoshi Takebe is playing XD Still, I have come to really like this song last winter so it is always appreciated, especially the acoustic version. Wakana is struggling a bit during the ending but nothing too bad. 8.myself: 100/10. Utter perfection. So much better than the studio version. And I am not saying this because I disliked the studio version, quite the contrary actually, I LOVED it but these two versions are honestly miles apart. Wakana’s live performance feels so much more raw and emotional. And her vocals in this are pretty much flawless, I can’t even begin to describe how this song makes me feel. A perfect ballad for Wakana. 9.メロディー (Cover): 8/10. My first reaction was boring. But by the third listen I was totally smitten and now it’s among my faves from this live. Be sure to give it a few tries, it really grows on you. I can tell why Takebe would choose this for Wakana. 10.元気を出して (Cover): 8/10. Ahhhhh, so freaking cute and old-school. Nothing beats a nostalgic, fluffy pop song from the 80s. I am here for this content. The “lalalas” at the end are LOVE. 11.オレンジ: 6/10. I like the song but I have to be in the mood for it. And here we have that fake harmonica thingy again. I enjoy the sound of a harmonica about as much as the sound of an accordion (which means not at all :P) but it fits the vibe of the song so I am okay with it. The bridge is usually my favourite part but Wakana’s delivery wasn’t as smooth as I would have liked. It was nice to have this right after “Genki wo Dashite” because both are encouraging pick-me-ups. 12.恋はいつも: 10/10. One day I wanna hear her sing the “baby, baby” part!! Please! Another absolutely highlight, you all know that I ADORE  this song, I could listen to this FOREVER. It’s such a shame the corona guidelines do not allow the audience to sing along because the ending is so much more powerful if everyone is actually singing instead of just clapping. 13.Happy Hello Day: 8/10. Such a feel-good piece. Initially I didn’t like it much but seeing it performed with an audience during her Music Party and now here, has really made me fall in love with it. I have mentioned it before in my initial reaction to the YouTube leak but I wish she would have sung some lalalas at the end just as she did during her Music Party. 14.magic moment: 9/10. I KNEW I would love this song more once I got to hear it live. I still feel like the composition is a bit choppy and thus not as flowy as I would have liked from a power ballad like this but OMG, Wakana’s live performance is EVERYTHING. Blown away by her powerful vocals, she OWNS this song 15.時を越える夜に: 10/10. Two power ballads back to back. What more could I ask for? I know not many people liked Wakana’s solo debut but I personally always thought it was perfect for her. I consider this to be one of her best songs. Say what you will about Takebe but he certainly knows how to make Wakana shine, at least in my opinion. And the song has only gotten better with every live performance. Although I think I preferred the version from her Voice Tour. So very glad we got at least one track from Wakana’s first album. The original setlist actually included Kinmokusei and Kioku no Hito which are two of my faves (they were later exchanged with the two covers). 16.春を待つ (Kalafina Cover): 8/10. Despite this being one of Keiko’s favourite Kala-songs I never could bring myself to really appreciate it. It’s just an okay song for me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy it quite a bit but I don’t go out of my way to listen to it. However, I very much loved Wakana’s cover though, she does a good job singing everyone’s lines and since the original doesn’t have any harmonies her solo performance doesn’t feel too lacking. 17.あとひとつ: 10/10. Always a treat. Can’t believe this STILL hasn’t gotten an official release :P  But I understand Wakana’s reasoning, she wants to keep this song a unique live experience and it really is. I can’t help but tear up whenever she is singing this.

Documentary: I haven’t watched all of it yet but OMG, this is so cool. The first 20 minutes are dedicated to rehearsals. I love seeing Wakana like this, just being her cute dorky self. But poor baby, it was hard seeing her this exhausted after the big studio rehearsal (that’s what the gif is from - being her overdramatic self, she literally dropped dead to the floor). The second half of the documentary is Wakana talking about the production of the live and the different songs of the setlist. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 Google Drive (3,11 GB) 🎁

Documentary of Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 Google Drive (1 GB) 🎁

Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 MP3s Google Drive 🎁

FOR ❗PERSONAL❗ USE ONLY DO ❗NOT SHARE ON OTHER SITES WITHOUT PERMISSION❗  

[sinceileftyoublog]

The Hella Mega Tour Review: 8/15, Wrigley Field, Chicago

BY JORDAN MAINZER

The lights went out, and Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” played, followed by The Ramones’ “Blitzkrieg Bop”, as the trademark “person in a pink bunny suit” pretending to be drunk pumped up the crowd. Perhaps no two songs, nor the aforementioned image, encapsulate Green Day’s career any better. The East Bay punks eventually turned into rock opera scribes, all the while maintaining their sense of irreverence. But what separates Green Day’s live performance is a sense of togetherness, even in the face of songs about impending political revolution or the threat of debilitating apathy. As Billie Joe Armstrong and company launched into the title track of American Idiot, the first of a breakneck 21-song set, they had a sold out Wrigley Field chanting every word back to them. Each of their songs feel born from a specific time and place, but if they have anything, its generational staying power, and not just because songs about the evils of the Bush administration have proved still relevant given recent news.

At this point, Green Day can play a seamless, pitch-perfect set in their sleep. Armstrong’s voice is smooth when it needs to be on “Wake Me Up When September Ends”, delving into bratty screams for maximum impact on “Brain Stew”. Bassist Mike Dirnt’s playing is limber and heavy, introducing “Longview” with confidence and ease, while drummer Tré Cool breaks down and builds back up “Welcome to Paradise” the same way you remember when you first heard it. Their addition of touring musicians--guitarist and vocalist Jason White, long-time multi-instrumentalist Jason Freese, and newcomer Kevin Preston--gives their more rounded out songs a depth to add beneath their otherwise jagged edges. And of course, Armstrong’s a man of the people. He’s found a way to bring fans on stage in the era of COVID, making sure those who come on to help them cover Operation Ivy’s “Knowledge” stay far from their bubble and can keep the guitar afterwards. In a more subtle way, when he could have easily addressed the crowd as “Chicago,” he also included neighboring states and the entire Midwest, recognizing that this show was the tour’s only one in flyover country. (Don’t worry, Wrigley fans; he did “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” during “Minority”, correctly singing, “Root for the Cubbies.”)

Yeah, I could pick a couple bones with the set, like no “Jaded” immediately after “Brain Stew”, and the mere existence of buzzkill “21 Guns” in the setlist. For the most part, though, this is a band who knows exactly what it’s doing and is very good at it, giving the crowd only 2 songs written after 2010.

If nostalgia sells, then Weezer’s set was for you, from their Jazz cup color scheme to Rivers Cuomo’s mullet-and-mustache look. I mean, their second 2021 album is called Van Weezer, for goodness sakes. Their Halen tributes start with entering the stage to “Jump” and peak at Cuomo’s two-handed tapping riff on “The End of the Game”, but they’re referenced in performances of classics, like the riffing on the outro of “My Name is Jonas”. Like Green Day, Weezer have always balanced angst with tongue-in-cheek humor, but with little room for politics, they’re all fun and games. Recent tunes like “Hero”, “Fees Like Summer”, and “All My Favorite Songs” are catchy, appropriately thoughtless ear candy, as is their cover of Toto’s “Africa”. And Weezer, too, knows why their fans are there, to hear “El Scorcho” and “Say It Ain’t So” and be drowned in purple and turquoise confetti during “Buddy Holly”.

To me, Green Day and Weezer’s embrace of absurdity is why the inclusion of Fall Out Boy on this tour--especially sandwiched in between the other two--felt off. I’ll be the first to admit it: They’re not my cup of tea, so I might not be the best judge of their set, and a packed stadium faithfully holding up phone lights during all the slow songs probably proves me wrong. But aside from the genuine coolness of a Wilmette band getting to play once again at the ballpark they grew up going to, the whole concept of their set felt at once overcooked and over-earnest. A video intro and outro from, uh, Ron Livingston, and multiple set changes fit a narrative about as structured as something from the mind of latter-day Billy Corgan. Their blowtorch guitars and piano lasted multiple songs, dulling their effect, while Patrick Stump belted “Save Rock and Roll” and “The Least of the Real Ones”. They sounded best when their songs had little fanfare, on classics like “Sugar, We’re Going Down”, “Dance, Dance”, and the stomping “I Don’t Care”. And if they could spend on fireworks during “Centuries”, they could surely have gotten a horn section for “Irresistible” instead of relying on samples.

Speaking of horns, if you’re looking for a band that made the most of their allotted time and opportunity, that would probably be L.A. ska punk band The Interrupters, who blasted through a fun, raw 8-song set while much of the crowd was still walking in. They played pretty evenly from their three studio albums, plus a cover of Billie Eilish’s “Bad Guy”. The throaty delivery of singer Aimee Allen (aka Aimee Interrupter) was the perfect complement to the literal band of brothers, guitarist Kevin Bivona and bassist and drummer Justin and Jesse. It was a set both well-played and curated by the bookers, one that should generate some crossover fandom with the other established bands and that fit the celebratory, somewhat sardonic tone of Green Day and Weezer. I mean, if you’re gonna call it the Hella Mega Tour, you want bands that can take a joke.

[call-me-rei]

Chapter 4: Be My Guest

I’ve been thinking about Kellin a lot since I left that voicemail. How we met and how we drifted apart specifically. Memories of him and I together invaded my thoughts at random moments. Sometimes I’d reflect fondly at them, but days like today I resented how vivid they were.

I hated that those memories appeared at random times. It was like reliving grief, when the thoughts of better times flooded your mind when you least expected. You thought you were getting better, but all of a sudden the sadness takes over and you have no choice but to remember all the good times and miss the person they were with.

It hurt.

Today was a day I wished I’d never messaged him to work together. I wished I didn’t see those mentions and that my bandmates didn’t insist that we write a song with him. Then I wouldn’t have had to call him and ask if he’d want to sing that stupid song with us all summer on tour.

But I also couldn’t deny that I was glad I’d met him. I was glad we had a hit song and that it brought us to knowing each other and becoming friends. I was happy to be able to share so many moments with him. I could honestly say that knowing him was a highlight to my life.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t nervous about seeing him again though.

Kellin and I hadn’t hung out or had a proper conversation in years. Now we may be performing together for two and a half months. That meant rehearsals together, sound checks, coordinating our schedules, and interviews since the media loved putting the two of us in awkward situations with each other. But hey, fans loved it so what was the harm, right?

Whatever, that didn’t matter. I needed to focus on one thing at a time.

So that’s what I did. I focused on the present. I put the last few days and memories of the last few years behind me and looked down at the page in front of me. I tried to focus on the draft setlist I was making for Warped Tour that I’d show the guys and have them edit. We were only given thirty-five minutes on stage and I wanted each of them to count. But in order to get that perfect set we had to deliberate over our own music. It was hard, but there were a couple of songs I was certain we needed on the set.

The first song on the list was “Dive In” from our fourth album. I always liked to say that it was a great introduction to the band, especially for those who’d never listened to us before. It had a bit of every sound we’d used in previous albums and really showcased who we were. I loved using it to open our sets.

The next songs came from all of our albums, but we’d have to discuss which ones we wanted to keep and the ones we’d need to switch out for something better.

The last song on the list was “King For A Day”. When my band would tour with Sleeping With Sirens, we’d end each show with that song. Soon that became our closer whether Kellin would be on stage with us or not. I didn’t want to break tradition, so I put the song there. If Kellin decided he didn’t want to sing with us this tour then we’d still play it. It was a fan-favorite, and it wasn’t like us to let fans down.

Speaking of which, I wondered…

I checked my phone for the third time in that half hour to see the same screen void of notifications. I saw that coming but it hurt nonetheless.

With a sigh I put my phone down and put my head in my hands, frustrated that I was only able to get about ten minutes of peace before my mind went back to him. Why was I thinking about him so much? How did one phone call trigger all of these thoughts? My mom used to tell me that you thought about a person more when they were going to be in your life. For instance, you’d think about having a baby if you were pregnant and didn’t know it. She told me that’s how she knew I was coming into the world, so I took her word for it.

Did that mean that Kellin was coming back into my life? Was he going to agree to my proposal? If he was, he hadn’t said anything. Not a call back, not a text, nothing. Maybe I was stressing out because tour was coming quickly and I knew he’d be there. That had to be it.

I wasn’t sure how civil we’d be with one another. Would things be awkward since we hadn’t properly talked in so long? Maybe, that was a very real possibility. I knew that Kellin would ramble if he felt nervous, or he’d shut down completely. I didn’t want either of those things to happen when he was with me. He was always so comfortable around me. Sure, when we first met in person he was standoffish, but he warmed up quickly and it was like we were old pals.

Kind of like our many talks on FaceTime.

I missed those talks and the texts we’d send when we hung up. I missed him. I missed how close we used to be and how comfortable we once were around each other. We used to talk for hours on end and now I couldn’t get a second reply back from a text.

Or a voicemail.

He hadn’t called me back after I left that message days ago, not that I expected him to. I knew it was a long shot since that was the theme of our relationship nowadays, but I at least thought I deserved some common courtesy. You know, call the person back when they call you, or listen to the message and follow up. Instead I got nothing.

I should’ve been angry. I should’ve taken it as a sign that he didn’t want to work with me again. But I couldn’t. I wanted to think the best of him, so my mind told me to ignore all the red flags and hope that maybe he got too busy to reply.

For four days.

I sighed as I wiped my hand down my face. This was stupid. I was being stupid. Why was I so hung up on someone who clearly didn’t want anything to do with me? He’d shown me that time and time again, so why couldn’t I just accept it?

Part of me thought it was because I wanted to know what could have been. If we’d had met in person when fans asked us to do a song together on Twitter rather than writing to each through email and talking on video. If we’d spent time recording in the same studio and having those late nights after hours. If we’d spent more time together on tours and learned more about each other.

If I’d kept my promise to myself and not let him slip away.

Maybe I was delusional. Maybe I was stupid. Maybe I was playing too much into it since it was obvious that he wasn’t aware of my feelings for him. He never noticed how flustered I would get when he so much as said my name.

Maybe I should stop focusing on the past and worry about the here and now. Digging up old memories never helped anyone.

As if the universe was reading my mind, my phone lit up. I picked it up seeing a text from my brother saying he and the guys were at the door. I took a deep breath to compose myself, grabbed the draft page from the desk, and walked to the front to let them in.

“Alright, I’m ready! Let’s do this!” I chuckled at Jaime as I closed the door behind him.

We loved picking the setlist for our shows. For one, it was a chance for us to get together and relive the memories behind our songs. For two, we kind of treated the process like a small hangout. Sometimes we ordered food or had a few drinks while we did it. We found it made it easier for us to cut songs off the list if we weren’t thinking about it too hard.

I walked into the living room in time to see Mike walk in with four beers in hand; Tony and Jaime were already seated. I grabbed one before taking a seat at the end of the couch next to Jaime.

“You guys ready?” I asked. Without a word they lifted their bottles along with me and took a sip.

“Okay boys, let’s get to it.”

***

We’d worked for about an hour before we decided to take a break. Well, an official break. Most of the hour was spent with us cracking jokes at each other’s suggestions then going off on tangents. The beer really helped with that part.

The problem with picking a setlist was figuring out which songs fit the tour, which songs needed to be practiced more, and having to talk with the production team to see what effects could be pulled off in the venue. Currently we were stuck on the second problem. We had ten songs so far, but we needed to cut one seeing as having all ten wouldn’t allow for much time for Tony or me to change guitars if we needed to.

“Maybe we should cut ‘Phantom’.” I gawked at Tony’s suggestion.

“Are you kidding? ‘Phantom’ is gonna kill! If anything, we should cut ‘Besitos’.”

His eyes went wide. “Don’t you dare!” Tony loved “Besitos” since it gave him a chance to play crazy riffs on his guitar. He hated when we started cutting it from our sets once our more recent albums came out.

Mike’s booming laughter sounded after Tony’s exclamation. “Tone, it’s such an old song. I think we can do without it.”

Tony pouted and crossed his arms as he sank into the couch. “Whatever,” he mumbled. “Hime, you’re on my side on this, right? Hime?”

The three of us looked to Jaime when he didn’t respond, seeing that he was engrossed with something on his phone.

I scowled. “Hey Hime, you wanna put your phone down and help us out?”

“Yeah, sorry.” He quickly typed and sent his message then locked his phone after we heard the swoosh tone. He was almost able to set it down on the table in front of him when it dinged again.

I huffed, “Jaime.”

“Sorry, sorry.” His repeated his previous actions – typing on the screen and going to place it on the table – but was able to set his phone down this time. I nodded to him in thanks and went back to work.

“So like we were saying, Hime, ‘Besitos,’ yes or n- “

I didn’t get the chance to finish my sentence due to the ding from Jaime’s phone cutting me off. He reached for it, but I beat him to it, grabbing it off the table.

“Hey!”

“Relax, I’m just gonna tell Jess that you’re busy.” Jess was Jaime’s wife and she usually respected that we were working. If Jaime told her he was going to be with us she wouldn’t call or text unless Jaime did first. Besides, she’s a teacher so there wasn’t much time for her to do so anyway. It was weird that she’d keep texting so often, but then again he had been texting her back. It was easy to assume that we weren’t busy when he was doing that.

I had every intention of telling Jess that her husband was unavailable at that moment, but when I looked down at the screen as his phone dinged the air left my body.

“Uh, Hime?” He hummed. “Why is Kellin texting you?”

“Oh, uh…”

I looked at him with an unamused expression. When he didn’t continue, I looked to the other two people in the room. Tony looked nervous and avoided eye contact while Mike looked nonchalant about it all. Were they afraid of this conversation? Did they know Jaime was talking to Kellin?

I looked back to Jaime who had yet to respond. “I’m listening,” I urged.

“Relax,” he put his hands up as he spoke, “he’s just asking me some questions.”

“Questions?”

“Yeah, that’s it. I’m just providing information.”

“Information?” He nodded. “About what?”

“Well he asked about Warped and doing ‘King For A Day’ and-“

“Wait, he’s asking you?” That alone insulted me. I could get over Jaime talking to Kellin because it didn’t matter much. They were friends and friends talk, no big deal. What bothered me was the fact that I was the one who called and asked him if he wanted to do the damn song with us, and I was the one he never responded to. Why was he talking to Jaime about it when I reached out in the first place?

“Yeah man. It’s no big deal.”

I scowled. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal to him, but it was to me. It was as if Kellin was adding insult to injury by first ignoring me then going behind my back with my best friend. He couldn’t be bothered to respond to my voicemail, but he and Jaime had been texting for who knows how long about who knows what.

I took a deep breath to calm the thoughts in my head. I didn’t need to be angry at Jaime, at least that’s what I tried to tell myself in the back of my mind. The loudest thoughts in my head were telling me to be pissed about the situation. He had hidden it from me and he probably wouldn’t have told me if I had not picked up his phone. It was hard to ignore that reasoning.

“So he’s been texting you this whole time?” Jaime nodded. “About performing with us?”

“Among other things,” he responded with hesitation. That caught the undivided attention of all three of us.

I quirked an eyebrow. “Other things? What other things?” He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit that he had. “Hime?”

“Just…more questions?”

“Really? You sound unsure.”

“Because you’re freaking me out, bro! Take a breath. Relax your shoulders.”

I pursed my lips as I stared at him with furrowed eyebrows. He looked genuinely worried which made me take a metaphorical step back. I was scaring my friend, something I never wanted to do. I wasn’t a violent person, but he apparently thought I would lash out. Reminding myself once again that there was no real reason to be upset with Jaime, I took a deep breath and let go of the tension in my body.

“Okay,” I started again, calmer now, “what else has Kellin asked you about?”

Jaime sighed. “He was asking about you,” he said softly.

“Me or the band?”

“You.”

“Why’d he ask about Vic?” Tony spoke up. His face held the confusion that I was feeling.

Jaime shrugged. “That’s a question for Kellin, but he does wanna talk to you.”

I tossed Jaime’s phone next to me on the couch before I leaned back in annoyance. He wanted to talk to me but wouldn’t talk to me? He had to go through a third party? Either his anxiety concerning me was high or he was fucking with me. I didn’t appreciate it if it was the latter.

What the hell did he want to talk to me about, and why couldn’t he just do it? It’s not like I wasn’t available for him to reach out to me, he just never did. Suddenly the memoires of us that I was trying to forget were replaced with frustration toward him. I no longer cared to know how he was doing, or if he wanted to hang out with me, or if he thought about me as much as I had been thinking about him. No, now I wanted to scream in his face.

“Well tell him-” I was cut off by the sound of my doorbell echoing through the room. We all looked at each other, almost daring one of us to stand and leave the awkward situation. No one made a move.

The bell rang twice more after an extended period of silence, followed by some knocks. “Well, if you guys aren’t gonna get it.” Jaime got up with an exasperated sigh and walked to the front of the house. It was as if that action took us out of our trance because we all followed him once he’d left the living room.

We reached him right as he opened the door, and for the second time that afternoon the air left my body.

“What’s up, dude?”

He was here. Kellin Quinn was at my door. Why the hell was Kellin at my door?

He and Jaime hugged before he turned to me and the other guys. He looked to us with a relaxed smile completely ignoring our surprised expressions. “Hey guys.”

“Hey Kellin,” Mike said slowly. “What…what are you doing here?”

“Oh, well Jaime told me you guys were going to be rehearsing today and he invited me over. I thought he told you.” Suddenly four pairs of eyes were looking at our bassist with varying levels of confusion.

He put his hands up. “I was about to tell you before,” he waved his hand around vaguely, “all that happened.”

“Anyway…,” Kellin got the attention of the room again, “do you mind if I tag along?”

The guys looked to me, obviously trying to gauge how I was feeling about the current situation. I would’ve said no, would’ve cussed him out like I wanted to just a minute ago, but seeing him on my porch with his shy smile and big green, hopeful eyes made me take back every rude thing I had thought earlier.

I sighed to myself for being such a sucker for him. “Yeah, sure,” I answered, keeping eye contact with him. “We were actually about to head over to our rehearsal space if you wanna follow us.”

He pushed his hair out of his face. “Cool. And, uh, do you mind if I leave my bags here?”

What? “Bags?”

“Yeah.” Kellin gestured outside making the four of us look out there with him. A car was sitting in front of my house with a bored-looking driver behind the wheel. “I need to get my bags from my Uber. Is it cool if I leave them here?”

“Sure? But why not leave them in a hotel?”

His face suddenly went from apprehensive to angry. “Because the stupid hotel double booked my room. I went there to check in, but the other guy was there before me. When I asked them to get me another room they said no because of a convention in town. All of the fucking rooms are booked. So now I have nowhere to go. And I don’t wanna find another hotel when that one hasn’t given me my money back yet. Besides I think all of the surrounding ones are booked anyway.”

“Damn man, that sucks.”

Kellin shrugged at Tony. “Yeah, I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I may text Nick and ask if I can stay with him until we head to L.A. next week.”

It might’ve been that I was feeling sympathetic with his situation, or that I just wanted to help. Mike or Tony would’ve argued that it was because I was overwhelmed by my feelings and by seeing him again after so long. Whatever the reason, I found myself saying, “You can stay with me.”

The other four men in attendance looked at me with very different expressions. Jaime looked at me like I was crazy, Tony looked mildly amused, and Mike looked concerned. Kellin though, he was relieved.

“Are you serious?” he asked me.

I can’t be serious.

“Yeah, why not? I have all this extra room and you need somewhere to stay. This way you won’t have to worry about money. And I mean, you’re already in San Diego and Nick lives in NorCal. It’ll be more trouble than it’s worth for you to get up there. So yeah, it’s fine with me if you stay here as long as it’s fine with you.”

I scratched the back of my neck once I finished my spiel. Once again, my bandmates were looking at me. I shrugged them off and focused on Kellin.

“I mean, you don’t have to. You’d probably be more comfortable staying with Nick anyway.”

“No,” he said quickly. “I’d love to stay with you. Nick has Jenna so I could be imposing and I don’t wanna do that, so thanks.”

I nodded, unsure of what else to say.

“I’ll only be here for a week before I go to L.A. I’ll try not to get in your hair.”

I waved him off with a small smile that he returned. His bright eyes shined with happiness and relief. I swear I could’ve gotten lost in them the way they sparkled in the sun. He quickly hopped off the porch to his Uber to get his bags, which gave the guys the perfect opportunity to scold me.

“Are you sure about this?” Mike asked. The same look of concern he was wearing earlier was dominating his features.

I shrugged. “Yeah? I’m just helping a friend out.”

“But is that all you’re trying to do?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means.”

I sighed. “I’ll be fine. I don’t even think about him like that anymore.” That was a fucking lie, and I could tell they all knew it, but they didn’t call me out on it.

“Vic,” my brother warned.

I waved him off. “Don’t worry, nothing like that is gonna happen. I have Danielle and he’s married. I’m more than positive that we’ll be okay. That I’ll be okay.”

Mike sighed. “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

I patted his shoulder. “Thanks for your concern, but I’ll be fine.” I knew that he was skeptical, but he didn’t say anything else as Kellin walked into the house with his bags.

Maybe what I was doing was risky, and maybe my brother had reason to be worried about me getting hurt. Little did he know I’ve been hurt for a while, so what did I have to lose?

[sadaboutniall]

something about you;

introduction | masterlist | tag | wattpad

Twenty Six. August, 2017.

It all happens so fast. It’s like one morning he’s talking about how to best release This Town, if they should just throw it up on SoundCloud or give it a proper release, and the next he’s on a world fucking tour of his own, album in his back pocket, screaming fans lining up outside once again. He hadn’t expected this, didn’t really think anyone would care so deeply about him, on his own. 

They come up with the idea for Flicker Sessions and Niall thinks it’s fucking brilliant, a great way to ease into a solo career, a perfect way to showcase his album—his life’s work—the way he wants it to be heard. It’s fucking brilliant and he can’t wait to kick it off—until it actually happens. 

Because he hadn’t thought, really, about what it would be like to sing Flicker in front of people for the first time. Hadn’t really considered that this record, so intimate, so personal, such a reflection of his soul, would be something that he doesn’t want other people to hear. The prospect of it is fucking terrifying, and he’s got fifteen minutes to get over it before he goes on stage.

‘I think I’m going to go out there now,’ says Isla, who’d been in the dressing room with Niall, watching him get ready. They’d made out against the wall for ages, his hands on her thighs under her sundress, her lips soft on his neck, careful not to leave any marks. It calmed him, being close to her like that, but she wants to watch the show from the crowd like everyone else, wants to experience it properly, and Niall’s not sure how he can manage fifteen more minutes alone with his thoughts. ‘You ready?’

‘Not really,’ Niall admits, fiddling with the sleeves of his white t-shirt. ‘Fucking shitting it.’

‘Yeah, I would be too,’ Isla says honestly, pressing a kiss to Niall’s throat. ‘But you’re going to do great. They’re gonna love you.’

‘Just feel so,’ Niall drags a hand over his face. ‘Naked?’

Isla tilts her head, eyebrows raised. ‘I mean, if you want to be—’

‘Please don’t tempt me right now,’ he whines, and Isla laughs, eyes warm as they trail over Niall’s body. ‘Tonight,’ he lowers his voice for her, leans in for a kiss.

‘Ah, you’ll be too drunk to get it up,’ she says it in the same low, sultry voice as Niall, smile pulling at the corners of her lips. ‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep.’

-- 

It really does feel like he’s on stage naked. He had thought the Jingle Ball tour was exposing but this is totally new, a different level, an intimacy he didn’t even think was possible. Almost everyone he grew up with is here tonight and everyone knows—they all know this is about Isla, who’s standing with them, singing along to songs they’re all hearing for the first time. He’s literally laying his heart out for people he’s known since he was a child: dissecting the intricacies of the love that has defined his entire life, for the entire world to hear. He never knew he had it in him to do this. 

He relaxes into it a few songs in, feels like he fully finds his groove by the middle of This Town, when the whole crowd can sing along. He finds Isla then, too—he’d been searching for her the whole set to no avail, and something about it feels particularly fitting, that his eyes land on hers at that moment. She’s the only person in the room as far as he’s concerned—fuck the Capitol execs, the journalists, the musicians he grew up listening to who are here now to listen to him. It won’t make him any better, worrying about them; this is for her. 

During Flicker, he has to close his eyes. It feels impossible to look at anyone when he’s this vulnerable, this honest. He can only think about how he felt while he was writing it, how terrified and clinging to hope he was—and then how it felt to play it for Isla for the first time, to watch her break down over the things he never found the courage to tell her properly. He could’ve saved them both so much pain, if only he hadn’t been so afraid. 

He gets it together, though, after Flicker and then Too Much To Ask. He finds his footing when the setlist speeds up, when he glances back into the crowd to see Isla and Emilia dancing, drinks raised above their heads, to Since We’re Alone. It’s smooth sailing from there out—he tries not to look at Isla too long during Slow Hands, for an entirely different reason this time, and feels his heart swell and nearly burst with the crowd’s reaction to On My Own. By the end of the set all he wants to do is keep going. Again, again, again, again. He wants to keep doing this on his own. 

--

The afterparty is in Coppers, which feels ridiculous but perfectly stereotypical. It’s part business meeting for Niall, who spends the first half of the night talking to the Capitol team and to journalists, accepting claps on the back and handshakes and congratulations, watching out of the corner of his eye as Tara collects business cards and phone numbers on his behalf. It’s all good news, Niall knows that, but it’s making him itchy and antsy, standing here doing this while his friends and family mingle around him, dancing, laughing, throwing back shots and raising pints. He wants to be with them, too. 

He escapes near midnight, when the execs have gone home and Tara’s disappeared with some guy who went to uni with Deo. Part of him wants to take a few seconds alone just to breathe, but he’s not willing to risk it, sure that someone will come up and interrupt if they see him alone. Being with Isla is better, anyway, than being alone.

He finds her with the Mullingar crew, no surprise. Mully’s got one arm slung over Mia’s shoulders and the other slung over Isla’s, and the sight of it makes Niall’s heart do a few flips in his chest, a smile rise on his face.

‘Something you need to tell me?’ He asks, sidling up to the group and gently touching Isla’s lower back. She’s beaming when she turns to him, and very, very drunk. 

‘I’m her surrogate fella,’ says Mully, stupid smile on his face. ‘Her real one fecked off to make business deals.’

‘How’d everything go?’ Isla interrupts, shrugging Mully’s arm off her shoulder and leaning into Niall instead. He feels a rush of pride in his chest, as if there had ever been anything to worry about. 

‘Really well, I think,’ Niall drops a kiss to Isla’s hair. ‘But I don’t wanna talk about work shite anymore. Shall I get us drinks?’

‘I’ll come with you,’ she says, smiling. ‘Anything to escape these eejits.’

Their friends shout after them as they walk away, Niall’s arm fitting comfortably around Isla’s waist. She drops her head onto his shoulder and the butterflies don’t let up—he doesn’t think they ever will, no matter how long he and Isla stay together. He loves this: walking through a crowd of people with his hands on her, her body pressed up against his. He likes that everyone in this room knows they belong to each other. 

It makes him itch for more of this, more moments and places where they can be open, together. But Niall’s seen what going public with relationships does for people like him. He swallows the idea, tells himself he’s not thinking straight. He’ll let Isla make the decision when she’s ready. 

At the bar he gets a Guinness for himself, and another vodka coke for Isla. They find a quiet spot near a window and this is all Niall wanted, he thinks—just some time with his girl, alone, before he has to face the rest of the world again. 

‘How do you feel?’ Isla asks around her straw, already deep into the drink. This is so typically her, piss drunk and still asking how everyone else is doing. ‘You were fucking brilliant. I fucking cried. Like, a lot.’

‘Did ya?’ Niall wishes he had his eyes open during Flicker, all of a sudden. He hates the idea of Isla crying without him. ‘I was that bad?’

‘Fuck off,’ she giggles, reaching up to cup his cheek. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

He grasps her wrist, pulls her hand around so he can press his lips to her palm, a gentle kiss. ‘Love you,’ he tells her. ‘This wouldn’t have happened without you. Thank you.’

‘It would’ve,’ Isla whispers, barely audible over the loud music, the roar of people talking. ‘You would be just as talented without me.’

‘No,’ he shakes his head. ‘All this is you. I wouldn’t have even auditioned without you, let alone written an entire album.’

‘Ah, you would’ve found someone else to inspire your angst.’

‘No,’ Niall repeats himself, trying to convey just how serious he is through his voice. ‘It’s only ever been you.’

Isla doesn’t fight him, just runs her thumb over the outline of his lips, over his dusting of stubble. ‘Colm is here,’ she says eventually. ‘He came up to talk to me earlier.’

‘What?’ Niall feels a strangely specific tightening in his chest, one he hasn’t felt since secondary school. ‘How did he get in? I didn’t invite him.’

‘Came with Nicky as his plus one.’

‘For fuck’s sake, I’ll kill the bastard.’

‘S’alright,’ Isla soothes. ‘It’s been ages. Was weird, though. He asked me if I was happy with you, if I was okay with being kept a secret.’

‘He what?’ It kind of feels like the only word Niall can say right now. 

‘I dunno, it really was weird. He was saying how I shouldn’t settle, how I deserve someone who doesn’t feel like he has to keep me a secret because he’s ashamed of me. I know he talks shite but, like, what a weird thing to say for no reason,’ Isla sips her drink, not quite meeting Niall’s eye.

‘He’s a fucking idiot bastard,’ is what Niall manages to get out, corners of his vision clouding with anger. ‘Just wanted to make you feel like shite one last time, and that was the best he could come up with. Petal, I’m so sorry, I wish you told me right away. Would’ve had him kicked out that second, but I’ll do it now, let me call Bas and—’

‘It’s okay, Niall,’ Isla touches his chest gently. ‘It won’t do any good to make him angry. I don’t even know why I told you it just… I’ve been thinking about it, is all.’

‘About what?’

‘What he said,’ says Isla softly, stirring what’s left of her drink with her straw. 

‘Do you feel that way?’ Niall asks, bile rising in his chest. ‘Like I’m ashamed of you? Because that’s the furthest from the truth, Isla, I—’

‘No,�� she shakes her head quick, cuts him off. ‘But I know, like. I know that I don’t fit in. With your work friends and stuff.’

‘What are you talking about, yes you—’

‘I’m not, like, a model or anything. I’m not talented or stunning or charming or cool, like that. I know I’d make a tit of myself if you took me to any of your work events, and I know that, like, publicity-wise there are better choices for you in terms of a girlfriend.’

‘Isla—’

‘I just don’t want you to feel pressure, like?’ Isla still won’t look at him. ‘I love you so much, but if I’m not the right fit for your job—’

‘Isla,’ Niall raises his voice just enough to get her to look up at him, brown eyes wide, wet, sad enough to snap his fucking heart. ‘I don’t want you to think like this. I don’t want anyone but you—I’m never going to want anyone but you ever again. Every time I had someone who wasn’t you I was thinking about you, for fuck’s sake. Christ, if you knew the number of times I almost said your name while I was in bed with someone else… it’s fucking embarrassing. You’re drunk, petal, and I don’t want to have this conversation right now,’ he brings his hand up to cup her cheek now, hoping she can feel just how much he loves her this way. ‘But I want to carry it on in the morning, when you’re sober. Is that okay?’

Isla nods, swallows thick and closes her eyes for a second. Niall waits. He’ll wait as long as she needs him to. 

When she does open her eyes, it’s like she was never upset in the first place. ‘You thought of me while you were fucking someone else?’ she asks, bringing her drink up to her mouth, wrapping her lips around the straw. It’s amazing, how quickly Niall feels a rush of heat through his body.

‘Every single time,’ he tells her honestly. ‘Listen, I’m gonna go find Bas and get McAnderson kicked out of here. But after that, I think I made you a promise earlier today that I’d like to keep?’

####

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[staystrange]

a masterful melody

Schitt’s Creek • Patrick Brewer / David Rose Rating: T • ~2k words • ao3

"What was so great about the last one we had? Isn’t one open mic night enough for a while?”

Patrick looks appalled for a second before the smirk returns. “Are you kidding me? First of all, it’s been over a month since the last one, and didn’t you see that improv troupe? And Bob’s poetry? I should probably put them towards the beginning of the setlist next time, so that everyone is sober enough to really appreciate their impeccable performances.”

David couldn’t stop the look of displeasure from appearing on his face even if he tried. “Oh my God, please don’t.”

-or-

Rose Apothecary hosts its second open mic night.

The song that Patrick sings to David is Out of My League by Stephen Speaks, which I would argue is one of the most beautiful songs ever written. The title of this fic, obviously, also comes from that song, though 2018 me really screwed 2020 me over by naming another fic for a completely different fandom after this song as well.

A week after David and Patrick say “I love you” to each other for the first time, Patrick brings up the idea of a second open mic night.

It’s the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday; the midday rush is behind them, and David and Patrick are alone in the store for the first time since they opened the doors that morning. Word of the limited restock of their most popular soap must have spread since they sold the first one to Jocelyn yesterday.

David’s automatic reaction is no, absolutely not. Heck, he barely knows how Patrick had managed to talk him into agreeing to the first open mic night, though he suspects it might have had something to do with that look that Patrick always got in his eyes when he looked at David, the one that David was absolutely powerless against. It also might have had something to do with the amount of kissing they did after David agreed, effectively preventing him from changing his mind. He had, of course, still been skeptical, especially when Patrick walked into the store with a license and everything was suddenly very official, but once Patrick stood onstage and opened his mouth and that came out, even David had to admit he saw the appeal of these things.

“Come on, David,” Patrick says now, smirking as if he knows that since the first open mic night went so well for both the store and their relationship, there’s no way David can say no.

David refuses to let him win that easily, though. “Hmm, I don’t know. What was so great about the last one we had? Isn’t one open mic night enough for a while?”

Patrick looks appalled for a second before the smirk returns. “Are you kidding me? First of all, it’s been over a month since the last one, and didn’t you see that improv troupe? And Bob’s poetry? I should probably put them towards the beginning of the setlist next time, so that everyone is sober enough to really appreciate their impeccable performances.”

David couldn’t stop the look of displeasure from appearing on his face even if he tried. “Oh my God, please don’t.”

“Ooh, I know, I should give my time slot over to Alexis so she can sing that song from her reality show — what was it called again?”

“A Little Bit Alexis,” David mutters, rolling his eyes. “And no, don’t you dare, you were by far the best performer up there that night. In fact, I think we should just nix the open mic night idea and just have you perform solo instead.” David takes a step closer to Patrick and rests his hand on Patrick’s shoulder; Patrick’s smirk melts into a smile, and David knows he’s a goner. “Fine, I guess we can have another open mic night, but only if you sing to me again.”

David honestly can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, but there’s no taking them back now.

“I don’t know, David, I can’t make any promises. What if two improv troupes show up this time? I might have to give up my time to them,” Patrick teases, and David just shakes his head with a soft smile, pulling Patrick in for a kiss.

They’re interrupted by the sound of the bell and the door opening, and David reluctantly pulls away, turning to greet the customer as Patrick returns to the counter and the spreadsheet he has open on the computer.

An hour or so later, David tells Patrick that he’s running across the street to the café for a caffeine boost, but he really goes to see Ronnie to get another license for the open mic night on Friday. He can’t help but feel a burst of nervous energy as Ronnie hands him the warm, freshly printed piece of paper, but the look of happy surprise on Patrick’s face when David returns to the store and slides it onto the counter makes it all worth it. And besides, he has a precedent now, something to prove to his anxious mind that he has no reason to fear and every reason to look forward to Friday night.

———

Friday evening arrives in a flurry of last-minute preparations. Patrick leaves right at five to get his guitar from Ray’s house, leaving David behind in the store to set out the wine and cheese and hang up the fairy lights that he only lets Patrick hang in their store for open mic night. When he’s finished and the first guests start arriving, David’s surprised to find that the nerves he anticipated, the ones that almost led him to ask his mother to pull the fire alarm as Patrick publicly dedicated his performance of Tina Turner’s The Best to him, are nowhere to be found. Patrick has yet to return with the acoustic guitar, so David allows himself a smile, hoping that Alexis, who has just walked in with Ted, won’t notice and tease him mercilessly for it.

By the time Patrick returns (turns out, he’d also showered, changed, and stopped at the bakery in Elmdale to pick up a few slices of David’s favorite pie for them to share later), Rose Apothecary is filled with Schitt’s Creek natives and even some people from neighboring towns. People chat excitedly as they fill up on wine and browse the products that David had triple-checked were perfectly organized before they reopened the store for the event. With the pie safely stored in the back room and out of sight, Patrick leans back against the counter next to David, handing him a glass of rosé. “Don’t drink more than this until I’m done singing,” Patrick says. “I want you to remember this.”

“I thought you were giving up your performance time to Alexis, or another improv troupe,” David teases, taking a sip. Patrick chuckles. “I’m kidding, of course. I won’t, I promise.” He takes another sip. “This is very good rosé, though.”

“Glad to hear you approve. I figured this was a good time to test run the rosé that we just got from that new vendor before we start selling it in the store next week.”

David hums in approval, setting the plastic wine glass down on the counter before nodding to the stage. “I think they’re ready for you,” he says quietly.

Patrick glances up toward the back of the store and nods in agreement. He leans in to kiss David quickly before walking up to the stage with his guitar on his back, tapping on the mic to get everyone’s attention. David cringes, but allows himself to relax as Patrick plugs in his guitar and strums out a chord.

“Hi everyone! Welcome to Rose Apothecary’s second open mic night!” The audience cheers, quieting down a few moments later as Patrick lowers the mic stand a little bit to fit his height. “I’m Patrick Brewer, and I will once again be your host for the evening.” He stops, glancing down to adjust the capo on his guitar. “I’d like to dedicate this song to my boyfriend, David Rose.” Unlike last time, David doesn’t feel the need to run to the back room; instead, he smiles sheepishly and waves to the crowd before looking back at Patrick, who catches his eye and mouths “I love you” before finger-picking the opening notes.

It’s your hair and your eyes today That just simply take me away And the feeling that I’m falling further in love Makes me shiver, but in a good way

David is so caught up in the lyrics and the fact that Patrick is singing them to him in public in front of the entire town that he barely registers the fact that he recognizes the melody, though he’s not sure where he knows it from.

All the times I have sat and stared As you thoughtfully thumb through your hair And you purse your lips, bat your eyes, and you play with me Sitting there, slack-jawed and nothing to say

‘Cause I love you with all that I am And my voice shakes along with my hands ‘Cause you’re all that I see and you’re all that I need And I’m out of my league once again

David feels tears forming in his eyes and quickly looks away from Patrick, his eyes finding Alexis across the room. Her eyes are wide as she glances between Patrick and David and mouths “oh my God” to him when she notices that he’s looking at her. This only encourages the tears to start falling, so he quickly turns back to look at Patrick, blinking them away as best as he can as a crooked smile settles on his lips.

It’s a masterful melody When you call out my name to me As the world spins around you You laugh, roll your eyes And I feel like I’m falling but it’s no surprise

‘Cause I love you with all that I am And my voice shakes along with my hands ‘Cause it’s frightening to be swimming in this strange sea But I’d rather be here than on land Yes, you’re all that I see and you’re all that I need And I’m out of my league once again

He thinks that nothing could ever surpass The Best for him, but he’d be lying if he said this didn’t come close.

The roars from the crowd snap David back to reality (Stevie’s cheers are somehow the loudest; David can tell she’s had a little bit too much wine already and makes a mental note to bring her a glass of water) as the last notes ring out. Patrick takes a modest bow and mumbles “thank you” into the mic, his eyes never moving from David’s.

After introducing the next act (Ted, with an entire set of punny jokes prepared), Patrick unplugs the guitar and walks back over to David, resting his hands on David’s hips and tilting his head up to kiss him. When they break apart, Patrick leans his forehead against David’s for a moment before turning around to rest his back against the counter, his right arm in its usual place around David’s waist. They watch the rest of the show from there, and despite all of Ted’s puns being eyeroll-worthy, the smile never leaves David’s face.

———

David doesn’t figure out where he knows the song from until he hears Patrick humming it once everyone’s gone as they stack chairs and rearrange the store so it’s ready for the next day’s customers.

“Oh my gosh, you’ve been humming that song all week, haven’t you? That’s where I know it from, right?”

Patrick smiles, setting a stack of chairs against the wall. “I was wondering if you’d notice. I’ve wanted to play this song for you for weeks but I was saving it for another open mic night.”

“I’m so glad you did but I also kind of wish you didn’t because now that I’ve heard you sing it, the original singer will never be able to compare. I feel bad for him a little bit.”

Patrick laughs. “You know, every time the original lyrics said ‘she’ and ‘her,’ I had to change them to ‘you’ and ‘your’ so I could sing the song to you and about you.”

“Did you actually?” David asks.

“Yeah, wanna hear?” Patrick steps away from the stacked chairs and pulls his phone out of his pocket, pressing play on the song and setting it down on the counter.

“Okay, first of all, it sounds so gorgeous on piano, but overall your version is so much better.” David says after a minute, pausing the song and handing the phone back to Patrick. “You’ll have to sing it again for me sometime.”

“Sure, I’d love to.” Patrick not-so-subtly glances down at David’s lips, and David obliges, kissing Patrick more deeply than he has all night, now that they finally have the store to themselves again.

“Ready for pie?” Patrick asks after a moment, breathless from the kiss.

David grins. “Fuck yes.”

[miasswier]

miasswier’s ultimate glee ranking: no 8

8: Hold on to Sixteen

Written by: Ross Maxwell Directed by: Bradley Buecker

Overall Thoughts: I don’t know how Glee did it. I don’t know how they spent seven episodes making a giant mess of things, only to bring it all to a conclusion in one of the best episodes it ever made. And yet, they did. Somehow Glee took all those boring, messy plotlines and brought them together for one of the absolute best episodes ever. It’s amazing what the Glee writers can do when they actually set their mind to it.

What I Like:

Where to even begin?

Oh, I know, MY BOY SAM EVANS IS BACK

The amount of interactions that Quinn has with women in this episode! Rachel, Shelby, the Troubletones… It’s amazing! And I so love how it was Rachel who managed to talk Quinn out of her ridiculousness, and then Quinn used that to get Rachel to help her bring the Troubletones back.

Going off this, fuck do I love it that it was Quinn who brought the Troubletones back. It would have been so easy to have made it Finn who did, but thank god they didn’t. I love that scene in the bathroom, and I love that Quinn knows her friends well enough to pre-emptively ask Rachel and Schue about the Troubletones doing a number for competitions. I just love that whole scene, okay?

I know it’s a little happily-ever-after, but fuck if I care, I fucking love how Mike’s story ended up! He didn’t get as much focus as the rest of the plots during these eight episodes, but I’m glad they gave him several scenes to work his plot out. It didn’t feel rushed, which allowed it to be really emotional. Mike’s face when he sees his dad arrive in “ABC” always gets me.

Tina is also the best girlfriend ever and don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.

Even though it was also a much smaller plot (much, much smaller), I’m glad they resolved the Blaine/Finn tension. It also happens to make for an awesome scene where Blaine is super angry and super tiny and Finn is so tall and trying to calm him down. Love it.

That it was Santana’s decision to allow the New Directions to join Troubletones if the Troubletones won. It’s such a small detail, but it makes it so much more powerful.

At the strip club when Sam sees Rachel and is like “Rach-RACHEL” and gets all wide-eyed

Sam’s dad being Clark’s dad from Smallville

It’s so funny seeing Blaine and Sam be at odds when you know that they’ll become ultimate BFFs as the seasons go on.

Blaine wagging his finger during “Red Solo Cup” and Kurt looking at him and asking “What’s wrong with you?”

Honestly just Kurt’s judgemental looks during “Red Solo Cup” while everyone gets super into it

The fact that Santana actually kept a notebook of burns for Sam when he came back. Like I’ve said before – Sam and Santana had such a great opportunity to be frenemies, and it sucks they didn’t use it as much as they could have.

The music is so awesome in this episode.

That short scene with Kurt, Blaine, and Sebastian. It’s particularly funny because it makes me think of that Glee crack video where Kurt is like “I don’t like you” and then that song that’s like “I don’t like that bitch” starts playing. I always hear it in my head when I watch that scene.

Barely any Will!

When Sam is telling Quinn about that John Mellencamp song and Quinn is like “please don’t sing”

Sam and Mercedes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! End my entire fucking existence I love those two so goddamn much

I absolutely love the imagery in “We Are Young” of Santana standing by herself after everyone has had somebody come and bring them back into the Glee club, and then Rachel comes over and brings her home. I saw a post (that I can’t currently find) that talks about this in detail, about how much it must have hurt Santana that everyone was so upset over Mercedes and Brittany leaving ND but nobody seemed to care about her. Then all that shit goes down with Finn and her coming out, and it just becomes this giant mess, and she feels so alone, like nobody really cares. And then, this. Everyone is welcomed back, but nobody comes to get Santana. She stands alone, asking someone to carry her home. So Rachel comes, and carries her home.

What I Don’t Like:

Shelby’s scene with Quinn always leaves a bit of a bad taste in my mouth. She talks down to her, and basically excuses her bad behaviour with Puck. Honestly? Quinn had every right to tell Figgins about Shelby and Puck. What she did was wrong. I’m not sure if it’s actually illegal, but seeing as she’s in a position of power over Puck it makes consent a bit dicey. This was Shelby’s mistake, and yeah, Quinn’s reasoning wasn’t really in the right place (is it ever on TV shows when teachers and students date?), but Shelby was still the one in the wrong. Shelby, and Rachel, make it sound like Quinn would be ruining Beth’s life by reporting Shelby, yet nobody stopped to think that maybe it was Shelby’s selfish and immoral actions that would ruin her daughters’ life instead.

Quinn trying to get back with Sam. I just really don’t dig that pairing, and they still look like literal siblings.

Finn and Blaine fistbumping and saying that they’ve got this during the Troubletones performance. That’s just rude.

Honestly, it was pretty rude of the Troubletones to tell ND before the competition that they’d let them into their club if ND lost. Just tell them after, sheesh.

Songs:

Red Solo Cup: A fun and cracky number. Love it.

Buenos Aires: I really like this song. Plus, Kurt’s “oh my god it’s the gerber baby” will always make me laugh.

I’m a Survivor/I Will Survive: I do like this song a lot. Really, I do. But I mean, it’s no Adele mash-up. They can’t really top that.

ABC: A fun, upbeat song to start off an awesome setlist with! I really like how Tina sang 80% of the song. Yes, Tina! Kill that solo!

Control: I really wish Blaine and Artie did more songs together. Their voices go really well. That being said, this song isn’t a personal favourite. The choreography is awesome, though.

Man in the Mirror: A great way to end off the set, and I like that all the guys who weren’t in “ABC” got a solo! I think this is the first competition in which every member of ND that is on-stage sings at least one solo line (you know, band members non-withstanding)

We are Young: Most of the time, I find end songs unnecessary. Sure, I usually enjoy them, but most of the time I don’t find that they fit the episode well enough. This one, though. This is one of maybe four end-songs that just work so fucking well. It’s so powerful, and just the setting of them all just chilling wherever they are (auditorium? I’m not really sure) and singing because they can and they want to. Then the girls come back and sing with them, and everyone just sings together and is happy and friends. Fuck. I’m not doing the feelings this song invokes in me justice. I just really, really love it.

Final Thoughts: Season three of Glee was a mess. It relied far too heavily on Finn and Rachel’s relationship, and aside from the first eight episodes didn’t seem to be very coherent. Even then, the first eight episodes were coherent, but that didn’t make them good. There are two episodes in those first eight that I purposefully re-watch. This is one of them. This is one of those episodes that I don’t watch with shipper goggles, or that I love because of one specific story. I love all the stories, I love how they all turn out, I love all the characters, I love watching it all unfold, and I love the music. It’s such a strong episode, which I still don’t understand considering what all led up to it. But it is. It really is. And I fucking love it.

[sassyshoulderangel319]

Concert Date

This one is ALMOST 3,000 words. It’s 2,997. So close. But I didn’t want to add three more words XD

Previous MLQC writings: 1, 2, 3, 4

I stood in the VIP seating section of Kiro’s concert with a small smile on my face as he bounded onto the stage. “How’s everyone doing tonight?” he asked brightly.

Shrieks of excited fans immediately filled the concert hall. Kiro chuckled.

“Glad to hear it. It’s so good to see everyone. Thank you all so much for coming to this performance—”

“I LOVE YOU KIRO!” a fan shouted.

Kiro beamed. “I love you too. I love all of you. I can’t put into words how much it means to me to have support from fans like mine. You’re all always so excited and enthusiastic. For a guy like me, nothing could be better. I’m so thankful to each and every one of you.” He cleared his throat. “Tonight, I’d like to dedicate this performance to my best friend. Without her, I wouldn’t have been able to finish half the songs on the new album. Mostly because she has the most terrifying glare I have ever seen.”

He glanced over at me while the crowd laughed. I glared at him for calling me out. He smiled slightly and winked.

“Alright! Now that that’s out of the way, who’s ready to get—this—started?!”

The amount of noise that filled the venue made me break out my earplugs before the music even started. I jammed them into my ears and covered them with my hair. I could still hear everything, but it was just muffled enough that my ears weren’t aching in protest.

He started to sing. Most of the venue sang along with him. Including me.

Before we met in that convenience store, I’d always been aware of his music, just never been a huge fan. Sure I heard his songs on the radio all the dang time, but I’d never sought it out. Kiki owned basically all of his albums, and she liked to play them during quiet moments in the office too. I knew his songs but I’d never known much about him besides superstar.

Then we ran into each other and I was instantly charmed by him. That was when I started to really be a fan.

Savin was sitting next to me, pretending he wasn’t Kiro’s manager and agent. I liked to pretend I didn’t realize he flirted with me a lot because it would often get an embarrassed rise out of Kiro, but I knew Savin thought I was attractive.

Victor always thought I was an idiot because he talked about stuff I didn’t know a whole lot about. But if he ever bothered to ask me about subjects I was more knowledgable in, he wouldn’t be so quick to deal out insults to my intelligence. I wasn’t terribly business-savvy was all. But I wasn’t so stupid that I couldn’t tell when Savin was flirting with me. It wasn’t like he was subtle about it. Kiro wasn’t subtle about his flirting either.

And Kiro knew, deep down, that no matter how much his agent flirted with me I only had eyes for Kiro. He pouted when Savin flirted but never threw a fit.

As the concert continued, I glanced at Savin out of the corner of my eye. I wondered if he knew about Kiro’s Evol. Kiro hadn’t directly told me about it yet, but after Victor froze time in the middle of the studio and Kiro wasn’t frozen with it, I knew he had some sort of power.

I suspected it had something to do with his success as an idol. The charm that made everyone fall in love with him. It wasn’t as flashy as Gavin’s power over the wind or as incredibly powerful as Victor’s ability to stop time, but it still made him influential.

And it was lucky that someone as caring as Kiro got a power like that. If someone with the wrong hands could charm anyone into doing anything, that could be catastrophic. Kiro just used it to convince his fans he loved them all and make sure they knew he was genuine when he said it.

Savin probably had no idea.

I went back to watching Kiro.

The stage lights were causing him to sweat. His gold bangs clung to his forehead in places. He’d removed the jacket he’d jumped onto stage wearing, throwing it over the back of the piano to reveal the pale yellow tank top underneath it.

I leaned over to Savin. “Does he wear all that jewelry by choice or because his stylist says so?” I called over the blasting music.

Savin regarded Kiro thoughtfully. “A mixture of both,” he said. “The earrings and ring are all him. Most of his necklaces are his stylist’s idea. Same with the bracelets and every other ring besides the one on his right pointer finger.”

“Cool. Just wondering.”

We went back to watching the concert.

At intermission, we got up and slipped backstage as subtly as we could.

“Miss Chips!” Kiro exclaimed, wiping his sweat off on a towel that he quickly handed to a staff member before rushing to me and throwing his arms around me. “You came!”

“Ew—Kiro you’re all sweaty!” I protested—with a laugh so he knew I wasn’t actually cross with him. He let me go with a pout. I whacked him lightly in the arm with the back of my hand. “And of course I came, silly! I wasn’t going to miss this for the world!”

He laughed and ruffled my hair. “Thanks. I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Well, I’m happy to be here.” I smiled and gave him another hug so he knew I was being genuine.

“Kiro, go change!” Another staff member shouted.

“Oh right!” Kiro said, eyes going wide. He grabbed my hand. “I gotta get out of these sweaty clothes for Act Two but I’ll be right back!”

I smiled. “Of course,” I said. “I’ll be right here.”

He rushed off, fingers clinging to mine for as long as he could before losing contact and breaking into a run. I chuckled and leaned against the wall. Savin had his arms folded.

“I never see him as happy as he is with you,” Savin said.

“Well… sometimes we just need one friend who doesn’t judge us for everything we do. Kiro’s been lucky to not fall out of public favor yet because he’s so charming and kind, but he knows he can be himself with me. If he gets mad, I won’t destroy his career. If he has a breakdown from stress, I’m not going to report it for all the world to see. He can be his private self with me instead of his public performance. So I think it relieves him to be around me.”

Savin hummed in thought. “I’m grateful you two are such good friends.”

“He’s easy to be around.” I shrugged.

“How did you two even meet anyway?”

“Luck,” I said, completely dodging the question. Kiro hadn’t told him about the convenience store? Alright then. I wouldn’t either. “I mean, I’m a producer. I bump into people of various levels of fame for work a lot.”

That was acceptable, right?

Kiro came bounding back to us in a new outfit, this one just a tank top and jeans, completely foregoing a jacket to cover his arms and shoulders. He had a makeup case in his hand and was hastily smearing it over his face to try and stop his skin from being shiny before he started sweating under stage lights again.

“Told you I’d be right back!”

“Yes, you’re very punctual,” I said playfully. “Here. Let me get your forehead. You completely missed a patch.”

“I did?” He complained.

“Yup!”

“That’s what happens when you don’t use a mirror,” Savin remarked. I took the makeup and sponge applicator from his hands and started filling in the spots Kiro missed.

“Hold still—you’re like a squirmy puppy!” I chided. He froze under my fingers, eyes wide. “Thank you!”

He gave me a sheepish smile. I smiled back. Gosh this man was adorable.

I made quick work of his makeup and then we were being pulled in different directions. Savin was pulling me back to our seats and the other staff was pulling Kiro back toward the stage. Someone handed him an energy drink.

“Oh that’s not gonna be good,” I muttered as a door swung shut, cutting off my field of vision.

We retook our seats just in time for Kiro to jump back onstage with all the energy of a sunlit tornado. “Aaand we’re back!” he called.

Fans screamed. Savin and I chuckled.

“Hey Savin.”

“Yeah?”

“I bet you a bottle of soda that Kiro has a massive sugar crash right after the show.”

Savin chuckled. “You’re on. We’ll go visit after the show and see how he is.”

I laughed.

Kiro stopped entertaining the crowd with his sense of humor and went back to his songs. He started it with one of his most popular love songs from his first-ever album. The crowd sang along enthusiastically. Out of the corner of my eye, Savin scrunched his eyebrows and looked down at his phone.

“What is it?” I asked.

“This wasn’t on the original setlist,” he said.

At that moment, Kiro looked over at me. His smile grew wider—but I had no idea how he could even see me past the stage lights—and he shot me a wink. The image of his wink on the two jumbotrons flanking the stage made the fans scream.

No one but me knew who he was looking at.

I sang along for the whole rest of the concert with the all of the other fans and then followed Savin backstage once again when it was over. We were told once it was over, Kiro went right to the dressing room and hadn’t emerged yet. He’d done two encores in order to finish the setlist after inserting his old love song and I didn’t blame him for being exhausted.

I followed a staff member to his dressing room—that had a big star on the door.

Knocking gently, I called, “Kiro? You in there?”

Rustling preceded Kiro opening the door. “Miss Chips,” he greeted softly. His hair was a sweaty mess and his eyelids were drooping. “C’mere.” He pulled me into his arms and planted his nose in my hair. “‘M tired.”

“I know. But you did so well. I’m so proud of you.”

“Can I go to sleep now?”

“Yeah. We’ll load you up in the car and then you can sleep all you want,” I replied.

Savin nodded to me.

“C’n you… stay?” Kiro mumbled.

“Of course. I’ll stay with you as long as you want.”

He smiled into my hair. I felt it rather than saw it. He leaned heavily on me as I followed Savin to the back of the venue and into the car. Kiro draped himself over my lap and almost immediately passed out.

Savin got in the driver’s seat.

“He’s out,” I said.

“Just tell me what kind of soda you want,” he joked, starting the car.

I played with Kiro’s hair on the drive back to his villa, twisting it around my fingers, eyelids drooping myself. It was late and concerts were draining.

When we got back to his place, we roused Kiro, but I doubted he was actually awake. He walked back to his room while still relying on me for guidance and support, but he didn’t speak. I imagined it was like when I got my wisdom teeth out—at some point I’d walked from the surgery table to the recovery room table, but I don’t remember it at all due to the anesthetic. I figured Kiro’s post-concert exhaustion was similar.

Once I got Kiro all tucked in, I returned to the front of the house. Savin was waiting for me.

“C’mon. I’ll drive you home,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Shall we pick up a soda on the way?”

“Nah. I just wanna go home and get some sleep. We’ll take a rain check. Next time we see each other you can grab me a soda.”

“Deal.”

We went and got back in the car. Savin started it and then paused while he pulled his seatbelt on.

I glanced at him. “Something wrong?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. Nothing,” he replied. Clicking his seatbelt into place, we started to drive off. I supplied the address of my apartment building and then settled into silence, perfectly content to let the classical music radio station fill the time between Kiro’s house and my building.

Savin, apparently, was not.

“You and Kiro seem close.”

“Well, I don't imagine he has many other friends.” I shrugged. “He’s always touring or writing new songs or being swamped by fans. It’s sad but natural that he should cling to the one friendship he has that really isn’t work-related.”

Savin opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t get the chance because I cut him off.

“Humans are aggressively social creatures by nature—it’s how we survive. Taking care of each other, forming bonds. I mean—humans bond with Roombas for goodness’ sake! We want to care for the people around us. Kiro doesn’t get that chance as often as a non-celebrity would. And then I come along and I’m kind and relatively calm and offering unconditional friendship. Of course he’d grab that like a life-preserver ring and hang on as tight as he could.”

Savin sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Do you think there’s something I can do about—”

“No and I don’t think you should try,” I interrupted vehemently. “You may be his manager but you don’t have to manage every single aspect of his life. You could loosen up a bit and give him leave to make more friends but you absolutely should not try to force anything.”

“Alright. You’re right.”

“Thanks.” Sometimes it was nice to hear that I was right when I spent half of my professional life listening to Victor tell me I was always wrong. I glanced out the window and watched the landscape pass.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Savin asked.

“Who, Kiro?” Given my mind had drifted to Victor for a moment I had to make sure I hadn’t mentioned any of it out loud and changed the subject of the conversation.

“Yeah.”

I felt my ears burn and knew I must have been going red—thank goodness we were driving in the dark of late-night.

“Well, I, uh…”

“It’s okay. You can tell me.”

“I, uh, I do love him—I know that much. But I don’t know if I love him… romantically. We’ve kinda been dancing around that for a while and… we haven’t really had many chances to explore the nature of our relationship in that regard. I’d do anything for him that I could within my power and I really just want to see him happy more than anything.”

Savin cleared his throat. “… Right,” he said, clearly unsure of how to respond to that.

I sighed and went back to watching the landscape fly by out the window. “He may act a lot like a boy but he’s a good man,” I added thoughtfully.

———

“Yeah that first problem when all the other hackers were in the room was too easy,” Kiro remarked while we were hanging out at his house. I was writing a show proposal to report to Victor and Kiro was doing… something. He had a laptop open too but he typed a lot faster than I did and I couldn’t see his screen. He could have been hacking—he could have been writing a new song. I had no idea. I felt like songwriting was more of a spiral-bound notebook thing.

“You call that ‘easy’?” I asked, looking up from my screen in confusion. “Really?”

He snickered. “Oh yeah. I’ve broken codes waaay harder than that over breakfast.

“Kiro!”

“What? It’s true.” He smiled at me—that bright, pleasant smile that made everyone’s problems feel like they were melting away.

“So. You said your mentor gave you the name Kiro. Was this the same mentor who passed the mantle of Key onto you? Or did you have a superstar mentor and a hacker mentor?”

That made him laugh. “It was the same mentor. He gave me Kiro. To be honest I don’t really remember what my name was before that. It’s been so long and, really, it doesn’t matter anymore. I am who I am and Kiro is a big part of that,” he said thoughtfully. It was one of those moments of profound maturity where the playful Kiro took a backseat to show off that he really was an incredibly wise, intelligent guy.

———

We’d had that conversation not long after the summit, hanging out at his place. It really solidified for me that he was an extremely complex person and a good one on top of that.

Savin dropped me off at my apartment building and waved as I ducked inside. By the time I got up to my unit, he’d driven off.

Exhausted—since concerts lasted forever and getting out of one was a whole time commitment in itself due to traffic—I took a shower, put on my pajamas, and fell right to sleep.

I don’t remember any of the dreams I had. To me, my sleep felt dreamless. A long expanse of healing blackness that ended with a loud vibration of my phone against the mug on my bedside table. Grumbling to myself, I cursed last-night-me for setting my phone so it was pressed against the ceramic mug.

I smacked around on my bedside until I found my phone. The buzzing wasn’t an alarm. It was my day off.

It was a text.

Kiro: Thanks for everything last night, Miss Chips. You really are the best <3

I smiled.

Me: You’re welcome, Kiro. It’s my pleasure :-)

[ruinedthatfriendship]

I Hate You, Love Demi

A/N: In which Demi writes a lot of letters, which inevitably fall into the wrong--right?--hands. Still don’t love this one even after miles of edits but oh well. Here you go.

Demi sat cross legged on her bed, the blank book open in front of her, tapping her pen absently against the paper. It had seemed like the perfect idea when her therapist had suggested it. God knows she had so many things she was always wishing she could shout at him. But now that she actually had a book dedicated to the things she’d never said, her mind was blank.

“Have you thought about writing letters?” her therapist had asked. Months after the whole thing blew up, she’d finally confided in the woman about her affair with Simon. About what it had really meant to her. About the way she still couldn’t get over it.

“I’m sure you had a lot to say to him, Demi, and it doesn’t sound like you got a chance. Get a book,” she suggested. “Write what you wish you could tell him. It’ll give you closure.”

Demi smiled a little at the memory of her session this morning. Her therapist was a wonderful woman, generally of a very calm disposition and there to support Demi through some of the worst moments of her life without batting an eye. This morning, the look on the older woman’s face had Demi wondering if she was about to take the next flight to London, just so she could punch Simon Cowell in the face.

And maybe that was a place to start, because she certainly shared the sentiment sometimes.

Demi uncapped the pen, ran her hand down the page to crease it and keep the book open, and scrawled out a message, her handwriting shitty on purpose--it reflected the mood.

Dear Simon, it read, with his last name hastily crossed out. I hate you.

The following morning, she opened the book again, turned to the backside of that first page, and added an addendum: Dear Simon, I really wish I could hate you.

It started with just a few sentences, here and there. In the moments where she once would have tweeted at him, she picked up the book instead. When she woke up alone in a bed that was too big for her with the last remnants of her dreams slipping away in the daylight, she wrote out what she wished she could scream.

Dear Simon,

I dreamed about Maddie last night. And I thought it would make me feel better if it wasn’t about you but I think I just miss you more. I want to hate you so much. I still can’t.

~

Dear Simon,

I’m eating breakfast. Slowly. But I’m eating. I don’t want to. Everyone on Twitter was talking again and they’re right, I am so fat. I really just want to throw up. So I’m going to write this and be mad at you instead. It’ll distract me.

I’m not really mad at you.

See? I kept my promise. Even if you’re not around I still came to you for help.

Why was it so hard for you to keep the promises you made me, Simon? Huh? I don’t get it. Actually I do. It’s not like I was really good enough for you. Lauren is really pretty, you know. I hope you’re happy.

~

Dear Simon,

The new album is out tomorrow. I can’t believe how much work it was to go through my notebook and pick songs to record that weren’t about you. There weren’t very many of them. Stone Cold is for you, though. Are you going to listen to it? Do you even still care? Would you know what it was saying if you heard it?

Eric is a beautiful baby, Simon. I’m happy if you’re happy.

~

Dear Simon,

Wilmer and I broke up. I’m still crying. I think I just broke his heart, I don’t know what to do. I feel like shit.

Mostly I just feel bad for not feeling that bad. He’s right. I wasn’t in love with him. He said he didn’t want to compete with someone who wasn’t even here. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t true but I couldn’t just stand there and lie.

I think I want to hate you again.

~

Dear Simon,

Maybe they’re right. Maybe you do only fall in love once.

~

Dear Simon,

Today I am four years sober. And I have to acknowledge that you’re a big part of that. You helped me save myself so many times. And even when you haven’t been here, it’s been your voice in my head telling me it’s okay to pick up the phone if I need to call someone. The truth is you’ve always been with me, and I think you always will be, because you don’t just forget someone you loved the way that I loved you, and I think I’m okay with that.

You taught me so much, and gave me so much. I’m grateful for the laughter and the nicknames and the late nights--and early mornings, and lunch breaks--and your hugs and your kisses and your love, for however long I had it.

Thank you for everything. I hope I’m still making you proud, and annoyed, every time you hear about me. I take my job as your little brat very seriously, you know.

~

Dear Simon,

The way that I love you.

I can’t lie to myself, I never stopped.

You are, and always will be, the single greatest love story of my life.

Love, Demi

~

Dear Simon,

I’m still a little stunned to have heard from your people. But here I am, over the Atlantic, coming to sing. And I know it’s a good move for ratings but I can’t help but wonder why you didn’t pick someone else. I know I’m not the only star you could have asked to come on BGT.

Is it stupid of me to hope that maybe a little part of you wanted to see me again?

I’m not going to lie, I’m really fucking nervous.

Still… can’t wait to see you again, Si. Even if it breaks my heart.

All my love, Demi

Fighting to quell the nervous butterflies still twisting up her intestines, Demi focused on the clouds flying past her window, sliding the leatherbound book back into her bag. She was going to see Simon again. She was going to sing for Simon again, with a setlist that nobody really knew was all written about him in the first place.

She hadn’t lied in her letter, she really was excited to see him. That didn’t mean she wasn’t also terrified. And she didn’t feel nearly so bold and brash about the possibility of getting her heart broken as she’d made it out like in that last line.

Lost in her thoughts, Demi didn’t think twice about passing off her little bag of essentials off to one of the assistants on her team when the woman held her hand out, let herself be swept off to get ready without sparing a second thought for any of it.

She brought the book of letters to London because it was practically a nightly ritual to write something to him, but it certainly wasn’t on her mind all the time. It never even crossed her thoughts that putting herself, and Simon, and that book, in the same place for the first time in years might not be a good idea.

She was here to perform. She was here for her career, she was here to put on a show. And if she happened to throw on a little extra makeup and a more form-fitting outfit for her act than usual, well, so what? She had to at least casually show him a little bit of what he was missing.

It was a rather split-second decision to sing ‘Never Been Hurt’. She hadn’t planned it, it hadn’t even really been on the table as an option when they’d talked about what she was going to sing.

But this was maybe going to be her last chance, her only chance to see Simon again. There was no guarantee she’d ever sing for him again. There was next to no chance she’d get to see him personally today, not when he had to manage the rest of the live show and she was leaving London in the morning.

If this was her only way to communicate anything to him, one last time, what did she really want to say? And she wasn’t mad anymore. And she didn’t hate him. And her heart was still broken and probably always would be a little bit, but it was worth it to have had him at all. And he was always going to be the greatest love of her life. No matter what had happened between them in the past.

So this would be her last little vow to him. That she was strong and fierce and independent, and her decision would always be to love him, no matter what. No matter how strong she was, she couldn’t fight that.

I love you for the good and the bad and the home you gave me and the shirts I still have and the jokes and the teasing and the really good orgasms and who you are underneath everything and I am going to burn this stage up for you. What did she have to lose?

Still, Demi waited for her cue with a death grip on the microphone in her hand. Please, please don’t let me be making a huge mistake, she prayed.

And then the set parted for her to walk through, and she slapped on a performance smile, waving once at the audience and hitting her first mark on the stage without once tripping in her heels, the first words falling from her lips. Here goes nothing.

She tried to find Simon at the judges’ desk, but he was silhouetted in shadow with all the lights on her, and she couldn’t quite tell if she was actually looking at his eyes. Oh well. Close enough. “My heart’s on the front line, I’m not afraid,” she belted out, putting as much power as she could into the line.

“I will love you, like I’ve never been hurt.”

The crowd was cheering for her the whole time, but at this point she really only cared for the approval of one. “You fought through the darkness and brought me back to life,” She wouldn’t be where she was without him. She didn’t like to put responsibility for her recovery onto someone else, and it certainly wasn’t all him. But in so many ways, Simon had saved her.

“I will love you like I never, like I never heard goodbye, like I never heard a lie,” Demi stopped in the center of the stage, her body tilted so she was angled right in front of him. Her voice dropped from the powerful range she’d been singing in, falling to a gentle promise. “Like I’m falling into love for the first time.” Every day, all over again, whether she wanted to or not.

All of the judges stood when she finished, catching her breath and smiling with a few little waves to the crowd, but she still couldn’t read Simon’s face. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, it had never been her strong suit, and his face now, while playing politely for the cameras, was completely closed off to her.

And then she was being ushered offstage and there was nothing more she could do and he was gone again and her temporary bravado abandoned her entirely, leaving Demi with a familiar, heavy weight in her stomach. But what had she expected? He would just leave his girlfriend, publically walk up on stage and declare his love for her? Was she delusional?

She walked into her dressing room a bit angrily, fighting to detach the clip to her earpiece from the back of her outfit, and froze with her hand on the doorknob as she took in the scene.

“What--what is going on?”

Her assistant, the one she’d given her bag to, was pacing the room and looked on the verge of breaking down completely. And the book she should never have brought to London was sitting out, conspicuously, on the middle of her makeup table.

“Why is this here?” she asked as casually as she could, shutting the door behind her and crossing the room to pick it up. Maybe she was overreacting, maybe it was a coincidence, maybe nobody had read it.

“I think I made a mistake,” her assistant whispered, tears sparkling in her eyes.

Demi raised an eyebrow. “Which is what?” Usually she was so much more friendly with her team. But she was about to have a panic attack herself, she should never have written this stuff down, what if she ended up in a gossip magazine?

“I-I was looking for your eyeliner,” the woman stuttered, hiding her head in her hands. “It fell out, I didn’t--I mean,”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Demi said flatly.

“That’s not--I just saw his name in it.”

Demi’s eyebrow raised. “That’s all? Look, I’m not mad, I just--”

“I thought it was...like...for him or something I don’t know what I thought!” she wailed, her face pinched in genuine anguish and fear as she looked at Demi. “Demi, I’m so sorry, I gave it to him, I--”

Demi’s entire body went numb. “You gave this,” she said with a strange calm, “to Simon Cowell?”

“He brought it back,” she whispered lamely, collapsing onto the couch. “I don’t know if he read it. Demi, I-”

“Of course he read it, it’s Simon,” Demi returned, annoyance creeping into her voice. Her emotions were a mess that she couldn’t begin to untangle, embarrassment and fear and an inexplicable tendril of hope and relief that at least now he knew.

And in the middle of it all, her assistant was sitting there crying on her couch. That at least, was a problem Demi knew how to fix. She wasted no time in walking to the girl to give her a tight hug. “It’s fine,” she said softly, a note of weariness in her voice. “I’m not mad about it, you didn’t know. Just don’t say anything about it, and we can forget about the whole thing.”

The woman sniffed and nodded resolutely. Looking over her shoulder while she continued to hug her, Demi made a frustrated face at the wall. Well, if nothing else, her flight out tomorrow morning was early enough that she could quite literally just escape the country before there was any chance of having to see Simon again. Ever again. If the sheer embarrassment of the whole situation didn’t just kill her first.

***

Demi sighed heavily, shuffling barefoot through her hotel room with nothing but a long tshirt on and a toothbrush still stuffed in her mouth. The jetlag and the adrenaline of her performance, and seeing Simon again, followed by all of that nonsense with the damn book was catching up to her, and she just wanted to crawl in bed and crash for as long as possible before her flight.

A soft knock on her door startled her, and she let out a muffled groan around the toothbrush. She loved her team so much, and did appreciate everything they did for her, but couldn’t it wait? Whatever it was, surely it didn’t need to happen right now?

Wearily, Demi opened the door, not bothering with her state of undress. Then, hastily, she yanked the toothbrush out of her mouth before dropping it entirely, a blush already reddening her cheeks. “Wha-what are you doing here?”

Simon looked uncharacteristically uncertain as he stared at her, his eyes flicking over her habitually while Demi yanked the hem of the tshirt down, shifting his weight in the hallway. He was still wearing the dark sweater and jeans he’d had on at the live show, and it didn’t particularly look like he’d been sleeping much.

“Simon?” she prompted cautiously.

He started slightly, finally meeting her eyes. “Can I come in, doll?”

“Uh-huh--yeah,” she stuttered, feeling exceedingly stupid as she moved aside and held the door open wider for him.

She was being ridiculous, he’d seen her in far less before. He’d seen her with a toothbrush before. Even reading that book wouldn’t be the first time he’d heard an ‘I love you’ from her. They’d done this all before.

And that was the problem, really. Before. Before everything went to hell and her heart got broken and he became a father and they lost each other.

“Demi, I--”

“I’m sorry--”

They both stopped, smiling awkwardly, and Simon nodded to her. “You go first.”

She looked down at the plush hotel carpet between her toes, avoiding him. “I just...I heard about the, uh, mixup with one of my things backstage today. I wanted to apologize. She didn’t mean to, and, uh, if I made you uncomfortable…” she trailed off. Part of her wanted to just say, it was a therapy exercise! But she didn’t want to imply that he’d sent her back to therapy.

“Forget about it, Dem,” he said simply, and Demi tried not to feel hurt. It was good he was brushing it off, right? But some part of her still wanted him to acknowledge her words, still wanted him to sweep her back off her feet. Be realistic, Demetria.

“I just wanted to give you this,” he was saying, and she blinked, watching him extend an envelope to her. “I thought you should have it.”

She cocked her head to one side, curiosity overtaking her as she accepted the slim envelope, their fingers just barely brushing in the transaction. Demi, it read on the front, in his familiar handwriting.

She looked up at him uncertainly. “What--do you need me to open this now?” It had to be a contract or something. Something about her performance, something for the show, hell, maybe even an NDA after that stupid book.

Simon shrugged. “If you like. Fair’s fair.”

Demi made a face at his cryptic reply, scowling slightly. He could still frustrate her as much as ever. “O..kay,” she said slowly, belatedly realizing she was still holding the toothbrush in her left hand. She discarded it carelessly on the bedside table, before slipping her finger beneath the seal and ripping it open.

Instead of a contract document, or any other kind of formal paperwork she was expecting, Demi pulled out a simple lined sheet of paper, folded in thirds and covered in his familiar handwriting. Apprehensive, she glanced over the top of it as she unfolded it. “Simon, what--” she trailed off as her eyes caught onto a few random words, and she hastily started reading, not daring to hope.

Demi,

Someone asked me about you in an interview today. I didn’t even answer the question, i didn’t know how to begin to explain.

I can’t call my son a mistake, darling, I know you’ll understand that. But if there were a way for me to take everything back and still have Eric, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

I know it ended so badly. I know how much pain I caused you, believe me. I’m so sorry, Demi, and if it’s worth anything I’m not really happy either. I don’t have an excuse, and maybe it’s better this way.

I never loved her, Demi, I still don’t. Lying next to her is just a reminder of unpleasant memories so I’m here instead, writing words to you that you will never see.

You were the brightest angel in my life and I have no one but myself to blame for losing you.

You’re three years sober today, and I couldn’t be more proud of you. You have always been stronger than I could comprehend and you amazed me every single day, brat, not least by your ability to be the most annoying person in the room.

I love you so much, baby. And now it’s time for me to let you go.

Simon

Demi slowly lowered the letter, her lips wobbling as tears spilled over her eyes to roll down her cheeks. “Simon,” she choked out, unable to say anything but just his name.

She met his eyes for an instant, full of more emotion than she thought she’d ever seen, and then he crossed the distance between them in two short strides and kissed her hard, sliding one hand into her hair and holding her like he thought she was about to evaporate.

She pushed herself onto her toes, cursing her shorter statue, and let the letter fall down between them as she wrapped her arms around his neck in return, her tears still falling and getting his cheeks wet too.

His tongue brushed over her lips and she parted her mouth for him, her soft sobs fading as the kiss turned into something more passionate, something she’d been missing for so long. Simon’s hands moved down to her hips to lift her as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and for once in her life Demi didn’t even stop to worry if she was too heavy for him. She had always been beautiful in his eyes, perfect just as she was.

He threw her down on the bed and she squeaked softly before bursting out into soft laughter, holding her arms out for him to join her, sitting up to help him pull the t-shirt off her head.

“I’ll give you one of mine,” he muttered against her lips, discarding it into a corner. Demi just laughed again, running one hand down his chest to find the button to his jeans while the other slipped into his short hair.

“Shut up and make love to me, Simon,”

***

Demi had never regretted an early flight more than she did that morning. But there was nothing for it; if she didn’t get up someone would come looking and maybe it was better this way. Maybe they still needed some space to figure out what they were now.

But he looked so absolutely peaceful sleeping there, and she was utterly at home with his arms wrapped snugly around him. Biting her lip, she started trying to wiggle out of his embrace, but he only shifted against her sleepily and hugged her tighter.

Demi sighed regretfully. “Simon,” she whispered. “Si, I have to go.” She propped herself up on one elbow, yawning widely, and laid her hand on his cheek, trying to wake him up enough to reason with him. “Simon,”

She’d forgotten how much he hated getting up in the morning. “Simon, you have to let me go.”

“No,” he returned clearly, and she wondered if he was actually awake and just being obstinate on purpose. Then he mumbled, “Love you,” and she figured he was probably still asleep, probably thought she was just trying to slip out before she had to face the morning after.

“Simon,” she begged. If she wasn’t up and out the door soon, her team would come looking. And they would find him, and there would be hell to pay. “I have a flight,”

“No,” he returned again, and she huffed in irritation, resorting to forcefully pulling herself out of his hold.

That did wake him up, and he sat up blearily, blinking around the still dark room and looking at her with a hurt expression on his face. “Where are you going, baby?”

Demi winced, wiggling into a pair of leggings, and pouted at him. “Back to L.A. My flight is really early, Simon, I’m sorry.”

She watched his face shutter off and he laid back down, slinging an arm over his eyes and proceeding to ignore her, obviously hurt and trying not to show it. Demi’s heart broke all over again, and she climbed back up onto the bed on her knees, still wearing just a pair of leggings and her bra.

“No, Simon--stop it--” she paused to pull his arm away from his face. “I agreed to that flight before I knew I was going to see you, I can’t justify changing it now, I’m not trying to leave you--”

Giving up, she just leaned down to kiss him, trying to convey all of the feelings she couldn’t explain in the touch of her lips to his.

And when she sat back, satisfied for the moment, and went back to getting dressed, he was well on his way back to sleep. She smiled at his silhouette in the bed, shaking her head, hating to leave him there but still feeling lighter than she had in years.

Looking at the chaos left of their room after last night, she stifled a quiet giggle to herself, struck by sudden inspiration.

Demi grabbed one of the hotel pens out of a container with glass beads, uncapped it, and opened to a fresh page in that leatherbound book that had ended up doing so much for their relationship.

And then she slid a shirt on over her head, grabbed the bag that was hers, blew one last kiss back in his direction, and shut the door behind her.

And when Simon finally woke to the sunlight streaming into the room, confused by hazy memories of a conversation with Demi in the early hours of the morning, the first thing he saw instead of her face was that book on her pillow, propped open with the pen still on top.

Simon --

I’m so sorry to have to leave but I can’t really explain why I’d need to change my flight.

If you notice something’s missing, well, you did say I could have your shirt. Come to L.A. when you want it back. Until then, this book is yours.

All my love,

Your Demi

[junghelioseok]

Not sure if ur taking req.This came to me as I read catharsis, I loved their friendship.Ur hired as a choreographer for the group, & ur in Korea on a work visa.JK just gets you like no one else does. You are bff, then it turns romantic.U keep ur relationship secret, & when U travel with the group he always sneaks to ur hotel room. He wants to take the relationship public, but u know the company will fire you, & you need your work visa to stay in Korea (to stay with JK). happy ending please. 😊

so i don’t take requests, sorry! however i have also been thinking about this idea nonstop since i got it so! i’m gonna not ignore it for once and lay out exactly what i would do if i did write it (which i refuse to actually do bc more jk ideas is the absolute last thing i need, lolol).

that being said, if any of my writer friends want to take this on, please do so!!! and tag me in the finished fic bc i would read the hell out of this shit. i fucking love this idea and i need it to come to fruition one way or another. (but like, obviously you should take it in whatever direction you see fit. please don’t feel the need to follow my outline, lmao.)

anyway, without further ado, here is my abbreviated version of this, ft. the frankly absurd, stream-of-consciousness way i plan every fic i write, ahaha. 

let’s get it!!!

you weren’t ready

you weren’t ready when the email from bighit came, asking for your help choreographing the dances for love yourself: answer

(you thought it was a joke, tbh)

you weren’t ready to get a korean work visa on such short notice

and you definitely weren’t ready to actually live and work in a different country

two years of college-level korean and a month’s worth of nightly cram classes couldn’t have prepared you for life in seoul

and no amount of researching bts - whether that was binging music videos or going over every dance practice vid or repeatedly listening to the albums - could have prepared you for your first meeting with the boys

tbh you kinda thought they’d be jerks, being so wildly popular and whatnot

but you couldn’t have been more wrong

one month into your time at bighit, and you finally understand the undying adoration army has for the boys

they’re just seven big soft nerds in stupidly handsome bodies

you’ve been subjected to hundreds of dad jokes, courtesy of seokjin, and plenty of clingy hugs from jimin

you’ve grown to love hobi’s screaming laughter and yoongi’s quiet grumpiness

but no matter how well you get along with all of the boys, nothing compares to your budding friendship with jeon jungkook

admittedly it’d taken a while for him to get comfortable enough to speak to you directly, especially when namjoon isn’t around to act as a translator

and likewise, it took a while for you to become accustomed to speaking korean every day

but once you both get past the language barrier, it’s like you’ve known each other your entire lives

you bond over your mutual love of dancing, of music and flow and rhythm

and watching him dance is a dream

every move is the perfect mix of grace and power, and he’s a joy to teach choreo to

hardworking and perseverant and more than a little bit of a perfectionist

but so are you, and that just means that you spend plenty of late nights in the studio together

working through the bits of choreography that just aren’t clicking yet

prepping for the upcoming ly tour

helping him with the choreography for euphoria

you were shocked when he approached you about his solo stage instead of sungdeuk, but you can’t say you weren’t pleased that he trusts you

and the first time you heard him open his mouth and sing euphoria in person, you were blown away

after that, you spend even more time together in the studio, long after the other boys and sungdeuk have left

late night after late night, dancing and laughing and ordering takeout at 1am when you’re both starving and need a break

one night you’re both hanging out in golden closet, snacking on ice cream and fried food you know you’ll regret later, listening to the setlist and talking big picture stuff for the ly tour 

and jungkook suddenly pauses the music and pulls up a new, different audio file

“um, i’ve been working on something and i was wondering if you wanted to listen to it?”

surprise, it’s his mixtape

it’s a work in progress - just a short collection of songs and a few random snippets that he admits he’s been working on for almost a year now

but every single one is so heart-wrenchingly lovely and emotional

your eyes may or may not well up a little during the last song - a soft, sentimental ballad that has you longing for something you didn’t know was missing in your life

“jungkook… this is beautiful”

“… i wrote it for you”

“…”

what are you gonna do, not kiss him?

lmao unlikely!

so you kiss him. a lot.

and then you do a lot more than that

you end up straddling him in his chair, your knees on either side of his thighs as his hands curl around your waist and find their way under the hem of your shirt

it’s sweaty and hurried and he tastes like the strawberry ice cream that he was just eating but it’s perfect nonetheless

afterward you are both in a happy haze, your head leaning on his shoulder as he strokes your back fondly

but then reality comes crashing back down

“jungkook, oh my god, we can’t do this!”

“but noona”

“but nothing! i’m only here temporarily, and if word gets out that we’re dating i’ll be fired!”

it’s so hard to tear your gaze from those pretty doe eyes when they’re staring up at you so beseechingly, but somehow you find the strength to wrench away from him and out of golden closet

you can still hear him calling for you as you run away, but you don’t turn back and he doesn’t chase you

needless to say, things are a little awkward from that point forward

you still see him every day at rehearsals

but you stop having one-on-one sessions with him late at night and tell yourself that it’s for the best

the other boys aren’t dumb; they notice that something is amiss straight away

but they don’t press too hard and you’re grateful for that

just days later, the international part of the ly tour starts and you are all jetting off to north america

by that point, it’s been almost a week and a half since you’ve spoken more than two sentences to jungkook

and you have no intention of changing that anytime soon

you can feel his eyes boring into you on the plane and in the car on the way to the hotel

but you escape to your hotel room and don’t see him again until dress rehearsal later that night

they’re running through the setlist, and you can’t help but admire how he looks in casual clothes

no one else could pull off a matching gray puma tracksuit, tbh

but he can, and he’s got the sleeves of his gray sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows to expose the rolex on his wrist

and his sweatpants are juuuust tight enough to show off the definition of his thighs

but! you’re a professional, and you can’t be looking at him with anything more than a critical eye so that’s what you do

even when he keeps glancing your way during euphoria

and stares right into your eyes as he nails the high note

afterward, you go onstage to give the boys your notes

you have a lot to say to hobi about just dance, and you can just feel jungkook’s hot gaze lingering on you the entire time

and then…

(thanks a lot for this shit, @puellaigmotum istg i have fucking nightmares about this bit of dialogue and it’s 10000% your fault)

… he corners you backstage

“noona, why are you paying so much attention to hobi-hyung… when i’m right here and ready to be on my knees for you”

he’s so close you can’t even fucking breathe by this point, his lips right at your ear and ruffling your hair with every word he speaks

when he begins kissing a trail along your jawline you finally regain control of your lungs 

and all you can manage is a shaky “jungkook, not here”

and you press the second copy of your hotel key into his hand

he comes over that night, of course

(and just like he promised, he does end up on his knees)

(head nestled between your thighs, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder to keep you spread open for him)

but a n y w a y

when you wake up in the morning, jarred awake by your alarm at far too early an hour, he is curled around you with one arm draped over your waist

he’s bleary and a little dazed and has the cutest bedhead you’ve ever seen

but when he sees you still in bed with him, his entire face splits into the brightest bunny smile

he pulls you in for a kiss and you could happily spend the rest of your life tucked away under the blankets there with him

but he’s got a concert to get ready for and both of you know it

the last rehearsal before the concert goes off without a hitch, and if anyone notices how you and jungkook are on good terms again, no one says anything about it

the concert is incredible. the boys smash it.

you are beaming when jungkook comes off the stage after his solo, ready with a bottle of water and a towel and plenty of congratulatory words

he beams right back, scooping you off your feet and twirling you in a full circle before putting you back down again

(his stylists are a little dismayed by the rumpled state of his clothes, but they can’t say much when namjoon destroys everyone’s outfits daily. they’re used to it.)

besides, all the staff can see just how happy he is around you

afterward, you all go out for a celebratory dinner, toasting to a successful tour kickoff

jungkook sits beside you and cracks inane jokes the entire time, and you spend the entire evening laughing your ass off with him

naturally, he finds his way back to your hotel room that night

and pretty much every night after, from la to hamilton to london

you’re in berlin when he first broaches the topic of taking your relationship public

“jungkook, we can’t! i’ll be fired!”

“no you won’t”

“how can you be so sure?”

“i’m negotiating my contract renewal right now, and i’m making sure that nothing prohibits me from dating. i want to be with you, noona.”

“but jungkook…”

“don’t you want to be with me?”

“yes, of course i do-”

“then that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?”

he kisses you before you can speak again, and all your protests and arguments fly out of your head the moment his lips meet yours

the very next morning you agree to gradually make your relationship public, first to the other boys and then bang pd and the rest of the bighit staff

(most of them already knew though)

everyone’s happy for you, even the company higher-ups, because it’s so easy to see how happy jungkook is these days

(and like, lowkey, sungdeuk has already decided to spoil rotten any kids you may have in the future)

but no one is happier than you and jungkook

as soon as the tour ends, you extend your visa so that you can stay in korea longer with him

jungkook is yours and you are his, and life is good ♡

[sooosketchy]

Perfume at Hammerstein Ballroom, New York

My experience and review (sorta) of Perfume 4th World Tour FUTURE POP at Hammerstein Ballroom, New York, NY, USA

Saturday March 30, 2019

Having gone to their previous shows in NY I knew I couldn’t miss out but this time I changed things up and purchased seated tickets on the balcony. The show started at 8PM and ended around 9:50PM. 

We headed down to the Hammerstein Ballroom around 5PM and the end of the line had already reached the parking lot. The line grew quickly so it was a good idea arriving at least 2-3hrs before the show. After talking to people around us most of them had floor tickets in hopes of getting as close to the stage as possible. There are a couple restaurants across the street in case you get hungry and a CVS down the road. 

I had a seated ticket on the second balcony without assigned seats so I was worried how far back I would be and really wanted to nab a first row seat. The previous concerts I went to at the Hammerstein I bought GA floor tickets and realized that I can’t see anything because of how short I am! I’m 4 feet 9 inches tall and could barely see the artist(s) faces on stage unless they were high up on a stairway/prop. I could try to get to the venue earlier and be close to the front of the stage but that never works out. So I told myself to never get floor tickets and try the balcony next time.

Right before walking into the entrance some guy passing by the line yelled out “This place has RATS!” Without hesitation a fan behind me yelled, “and PERFUME!” Those who heard him in line laughed back and cheered on. He was probably looking for a reaction, but NY is known to have rats everywhere so this wasn’t alarming news. The passerby repeated his statement and then kept it moving.

Once inside we were allowed to bring in shopping bags as long as they were checked, as well as bags, and book bags. We all had to walk through metal detectors and were asked to show digital tickets this time with the barcode. Once you walk through the detectors and grab your bag you could either get in line for merch or head to your seat. The line for merch wasn’t bad so if you do have an assigned seat or you already have a friend reserving your chair go for the merch first because after the show the lines are way too long and not as monitored or controlled. After finding a seat and having a friend hold it for me I went back down to buy merch. Finding the line was a hassle but the staff had started to devise a plan to have the line for merch wrap around a stairway going down a level. The only problem was that the stairs were located in the main floor level. Someone could easily leave the line and pass into GA but the staff was ready and had several people heavily monitoring the line. You had to show your ticket again going back into GA or the balcony, so they were ready to turn people back around if they did not have tickets on them so don’t forget your phone!

Merchandise for the Future Pop tour was lacking. Nothing caught my eye and was disappointed with the t-shirt designs. Out of all the t-shirts only the white one had tour dates for the 4th World Tour, but the font size was microscopic on the back of the shirt. The front image on the white shirt was nice with all three members in a stylish pose printed in black and white ink. I would have liked the other shirts to have dates, but I went for the simple FP logo shirt with the 7th tour dates on the back. I liked the shade of blue for the katakana t-shirt. There was also a $50 t-shirt with the word Perfume on the front and an invitation to the fan club but I passed because of the dark blue t-shirt color. Tote was not as sturdy looking as the comic explorer tote, but fit the $15 price tag. The towel had an interesting design covering most of the surface and the words Future Pop on the center-right corner. What I was looking forward to the most was the pin blind bags! They were only $5 and you had a chance of getting 1 of 67 pin types. Here’s a link with all the items you can get during the tour. https://www.perfume-web.jp/eng/news/individual.php?id=172 

The stairway to go up to the balcony was to the left, but before walking up you had to show your e-ticket to the staff member. After walking what seemed like an endless stairway, I finally made it to the second balcony and I was early enough to get front row seats. Not in the middle of the balcony, more to the left side but the view was great. The seats are cramped together, but I’ve experienced worse so it wasn’t as stuffy for me. I was also front row so I had room to stretch my feet and room in front of my chair and underneath to place my bags. The seats on the first row are elevated significantly from the floor so be careful getting off and on, hold on to the chair so you don’t fall down. I saw people lose their balance stumbling off their chairs a couple times so be aware of the dip. 

As time passed the seats were filling up faster. One thing to look out for is beams when picking a seat. There are seats positioned right in front of beams and block your view completely. So get there early and avoid those seats. There was a couple looking for seats right before the show began and found two empty seats behind us on the second row, but one seat was facing a beam. They took it anyways since it was close up and it looked like all the seats were taken up in the back. 

Having a seat was great and the view was amazing but standing up was going to be an issue. I didn’t want to block anyone’s view behind me so I stayed seated. Of course I struggled to not jump up during Fake It but I stayed down and waved my hands back and forth instead, awkwardly. Suppressing my excitement around others who weren’t as hyped was a huge downer when sitting on the balcony. There’s space in front of the seats, a wide walkway, between the ledge and first row, but staff was sending back anyone who stood behind the railing, even children. This was going on during the beginning first two songs but people got the message and no one else on my side tried to stand behind the railing. HOWEVER, there was a women who sat right behind the railing in front of us for the entire show, she was just the right size and was able to peer over the bar. Because she was sitting I guess none of the staff bothered her or didn’t see her at all. She didn’t stand up not once and was pretty chill scrolling through her phone while PERFUME was preforming live in front of her. o__o

The 1st balcony seemed to have assigned seating but I have no idea how people even got seats down there. When I purchased tickets, only GA floor and BALC2 was available. I was probably too late when purchasing tickets. Side balcony was where it was at! Each one had about 12 seats but most of the people in it were standing up. I’ll probably aim for side balcony seats next time.

 Setlist 

Start-Up: Used the entire stage space to project what seemed to be a screen in thin air, counting down their previous performances leading up to their 4th World Tour and setting the mood for what was to come next, Future Pop!

Future Pop: the crowd was full of energy seeing Perfume back in NY and you could feel it during this song.

Electro World: First throwback song and a perfect follow up to Future Pop. Everybody’s hands were in the air clapping along for this one. A-chan was clapping along as well. Seeing this live was such a treat!

If You Wanna

Chourairin

FUSION: The choreo and silhouette effects were mesmerizing. Hearing this song gets me so amped up but the crowd wasn’t crazy for it. Loved it!

Tiny Baby

Butterfly: Not gonna lie, I lost it for bit hearing this song at first. Didn’t expect this song at all and loved every minute of it. I also appreciated the subs for the lyrics typed out on the back screen. Now everyone can sing along!

Secret Secret: There was no need for subs since the crowd had no problem signing back. Its was nice hearing the crowd sing in unison.  This was another song I needed to control myself and not jump out of my seat. Didn’t focus much on what was going on behind on the screen but the audio was off a bit.  

Not sure what to title the following track. It was a medley of a couple songs with a trap like beat and the trio rapping the lyrics to what sounded like Tokyo Girl. I didn’t move at all but just watched the chaos of glitched distorted visuals flicker on the screens trying to make sense of what was about to happen next. I liked it. More please. 

TOKYO GIRL

Pick Me Up

FAKE IT: Died and was revived back to life. No jumping for me this time around. The pit looked out of control!

FLASH

Polyrhythm: Ahh, Polyrhythm. This is Perfumes anthem. Somehow this song just brings us and Perfume closer together during the performance and feels like we’re all up there on stage with them. But then we’re slowly brought back to reality. Always brings tears to my face seeing this song performed. 

Encore - Magic of Love and Mugenmirai: didn’t take long for them to come back on stage. Not a fan of Mugenmirai in the encore but Magic of love left a lasting impression. 

 PTA Corner / MC / talk: Introductions! A-chan left for a few minutes and passed it over to Nocchi and then Kashiyuka. Nocchi calling out Kashiyuka while she was brushing her hair was funny. A-chan came back with what looked to be a cold ice pack wrapped around her neck, I hope she didn’t pull something.  Pamela representing Dominican Republic did a great job translating (so lucky). Story time! Perfume points out that pizza slices in the USA are bigger than they expected and surprised that just one slice of pizza is larger than thier face! Then asking the crowd how many slices fans usually eat, 1 slice or 2 slices? I spotted someone holding up 4, 5 fingers. Perfume saw it too and couldn’t help but smile. They also shared their visit to the new Hudson Yards, questioning why there was a train leading somewhere to Hudson Yards? And while they were taking a photo at the weird stair case building, looking upwards, rain droplets were coming down and A-chan exposed the smiles in that photo were fake. The crowd was then split in groups. Right side CRISPY! Left side Pizza~! A-chan also taught us a catchy tune about brushing your teeth with dance moves using your hands to brush the lower teeth, upper teeth, back and front teeth. Less crowd interaction during the talking segments than the last shows I’ve been to.  Lots of thank yous at the end. Now we wait for Perfumes comeback!

Rant

Recording was strictly prohibited and was not encouraged at all during the show. I get it, they use WiFi to control certain lights and devices on stage, but I should be allowed to use my phones camera to record while on airplane mode. That way I’m not interfering with the stages WiFi connection. This tour is all about the future and technology and the possibilities we have with them and being told not to use it doesn’t make sense. 

Merchandise was not appealing to me and could use a few more variations of color and the addition of dates of the 4th World Tour in larger font. I’m grateful for what we got but I know they can do better. Maybe bringing back a gallery exhibition like the one during Cosmic Explorer tour can allow fans to purchase merch earlier and have more options in t-shirts, dvds, cds, and other items. 

This one is more personal, on our way to the train station we stopped at a pizza restaurant to grab a quick bite before our train arrived. You could see who else just came from the concert. Some held their merchandise for all to see, Perfume cosplayers, or wore a Perfume concert t-shirt. Unfortunately we bumped into the wrong group of people who also came from the concert that said some pretty unnecessary and hurtful comments about someone in our group.  All we did was ask if they were in line, got weird glances in response and the comments started. I don’t want to go into detail about what they said, just that it was wrong and that night proved Perfume fans are a group of some of the most diverse, creative and dedicated individuals. No one has the right to say who can like what and I hope they realize that soon cause Perfume is going to continue to inspire and attract all kinds of people from different walks of life, so deal with it. 

So how was your FUTURE POP Tour experience? Did you get a blind bag, and which one did you get? Did anything strange or different happen at the show you attended?