#jamie diatribe

[jayjtheunsispiciousmelodicathem]

I may not be looking in the right parts of the internet, but I think Where The Water Tastes Like Wine is an underrated gem

so there's this game called "Where The Water Tastes Like Wine". I got it for free on Epic a few years back, never finished it (in fact I didn't get much further than Ohio I think), but each time I installed and launched it, I immediately fell in love with it again.

It's a simple game - we get a cutscene in which Dire Wolf (an anthropomorphic wolf who beats us in cards) sends us on our quest to travel the 48 contiguous American states just after the Great War, experience stories, tell them to people, and then watch as the stories grow to be elaborate, often thrilling, urban legends and folk tales

the graphics are simple, but they're just enough to make things recognisable in the overworld, but when you get to gathering and telling stories, the artstyle gets very pretty - very scruffy-like drawings of the characters and scenes very much fit the game, and elevate its atmosphere a lot. The music slaps - go listen

but this is not what made the game for me - or well, not the graphics or music at least. It's the objective of the game, that I think makes the game a gem worth its value

so as I said, WTWTLW is a game about gathering and telling stories - as you travel across post-war america you'll encounter many a strange things and scenes, and you'll meet fellow wanderers of the world, whose stories you will also learn in exchange for your stories.

it's a central mechanic, as those tramps and wanderers will spread the stories, allowing them to change and become more captivating. And that's why I love this game - not only are the characters interesting, the game revolves around the origins of what nowadays we'd call the post-colonial American folklore, or what we'd call a post-colonial American mythology if it christianity wasn't baked into the colonist-American cultures. I am not sure how many of the stories are actual pieces of american folklore - there's of course the Jersey Devil there, and there's also what seems to be a "the colour from out of space" reference in one spot as well (although that's not exactly folklore), but many seem like something that sound plausible to be actual folklore, while also being written specifically for the game.

The game showcases this evolution of mere retellings of someone's experiences into actual legends and myths - all of them having their seeds in actual events, that got blown out of proportion (e.g. there's a story, where a fisherman tells you "the seagulls came, there's enough fish for us to survive one more year", and later when you gather a newer version of the story, you'll find that the seagulls are now talking, and the fisherman asks them where to find the fish)

The POV character will sometimes remark that "hey, I remember this story, this isn't exactly how it goes!" - and that's another thing I love they got right about this central theme of the game. Stories change overtime, and they will vary from period to period, from place to place.

That's what the Iliad and the Odyssey probably started as

That's what the 12 labours of Heracles probably started as

That's what so many pieces of folklore and mythology probably started as

And each version of the story is just as right as the other, because there is no "one true and definitive" version of a folk tale by definition.

I love this game, it's very fun and philosophical (kinda like disco elysium), and it got its central aspect VERY FRICKING RIGHT

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #5: CADMIUM COLORS

(also on bandcamp and spotify!)

Once again, welcome back to the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Last time, I wrote a whole diatribe about my OCs while talking about I Wish That I Could Fall, and today, we're eating paint! Cadmium Colors featuring Soneji of Project Mikan!

Consider this a content warning: this post will discuss the pandemic, struggles with mental health, and suicidal ideation/attempts. I'm hoping it'll ultimately be uplifting, but the discussions at hand are incredibly heavy, and it wouldn't do this song right to be vague. Please be warned.

---

Let's talk about COVID.

At the beginning of 2020, I was in the midst of a long-term break from making music. It wasn't completely cold turkey, and I might not have even called it a break if you'd asked me at the time, but things were dire. I was still dealing with the burnout I'd sustained from the making of Autumn Every Day; I'd had my ego bruised by a live performance at a house party that went so hilariously bad it'd hurt even the most stoic performers (imagine watching an entire packed room of people clear out in 5 minutes flat from the already hyper-exposed vantage point of being on stage in front of them and knowing you single-handedly caused that lol); I had just moved across the country, and was preoccupied with trying to make ends meet as a 22 year old dealing with pure adulthood for the first time.

I was working a shitty minimum wage job at a discount clothing store I will not be naming, slogging through late-night shifts that wouldn't get me home until 3 am some nights. I had friends and roommates, but they were all just as overworked and exhausted and dealing with their own shit as me. I was mentally ill and unmedicated. Suicidal ideation was rearing its ugly head at my lowest moments.

Then, as I turned 23, a global pandemic shut the world down, my grandpa died with me being unable to attend his funeral, and I had a catastrophic mental breakdown that suddenly turned the voices in my head into a deafening cacophony of self-inflicted malice.

In hindsight, I think being 23 kinda just does that to you

---

Fast forward to 2021. I was back at my retail job with the pandemic raging in full force, my sense of self was held together with duct tape, positive self-talk essentially didn't exist for me, and I was the loneliest and lowest I had ever been. I was working the fewest hours I could get away with, and still, almost all spare time I had was taken up either by work or by my recovery from it.

This was around the time I got an email from Crypton, of all places - the people that make Hatsune Miku, for anyone uninformed. They wanted a remix of the song Happy Synthesizer for a Digital Stars compilation. I could not for the life of me tell you how I lucked into this or why they reached out to me of all people, but they did, and I was deathly determined to prove myself worthy of it.

This was August of 2021. I was staring down the barrel, languishing in what felt like only half of a life, fantasizing about death and trying to twist my thoughts into something that could at least keep me blearily shuffling forward another couple days. It was untenable.

(I'd also recently been diagnosed with OSDD 1b - this is a whole can of worms I can't really open until we talk about Breeze Blows, but it's important to at least mention that coping with this was a significant part of this turnaround.)

It's melodramatic, but I had only two options - make things again, or die.

I finished that remix within 24 hours of getting the stems, and I will gladly toot my own horn about it - it's really fucking good, in my opinion. Bittersweet ended up coming together in a mad dash over the next couple months as well. I was making music again.

Even though I was exponentially busier, things paradoxically got easier. I made the creative process a priority in my life, and not only did it give me an outlet for everything that had otherwise been eating away at my soul, but it struck a chord with other people who had been struggling as well. Things just... started getting brighter.

So I kept making music and living and yadda yadda blah blah here I am. This is all a lot of words and very personal stories of mental health struggles to say this:

One: The line between being an artist and being one of countless people forced to work jobs that go nowhere, that put their life at risk, that force them to strip parts of themselves away - it is a faint and transparent line built on circumstances of class and privilege and luck. Making Art and being an Artist aren't magical elevated states of existence, but something anyone is capable of if given the space to nurture their creativity. I believe the world should be a place where any person can do this.

Two: It's easy to convince yourself that art is meaningless in the face of the world at large. And yes, revolutions aren't fought by poetry and paintings, and people aren't fed through songs. But art is a source and a medium for connection; Art is how we find beauty in a disorganized and entropic world; Art is what we come home to and what words we write and pictures we paint and songs we sing to remind us that people matter to us and love is real and life is worth fucking living. Maybe that's corny and stupid, but it's true.

Three: So help me God, I will never work retail again in my entire life.

---

This is another song that is heavily inspired by artists like Prefab Sprout, Peter Gabriel, Kate Bush, and other artists of that ilk - very 80s, very flowery and sentimental lyricism, focused on telling a story. I greatly admire songs that aren't afraid to paint otherwise banal or ordinary scenes in abstract reverence!! I wanted the verses to contrast heavily with each other in that way, with verse one's relentless poeticisms (prosaic practice of depravity) and idioms turned on their head (suspending innocents above their disbelief) against verse two's incredibly straightforward depiction of a factory worker's circumstances.

The flowery language might have worked against me somewhat, though! I've seen a lot of folks that thought the ending was darker or much more defeatist than I intended, and while some of that is just inevitable with a work of art, I want to be clear.

Translator's note: this means "don't kill yourself, you idiot"!!

As you may have picked up from the previous post in this series, this song does heavily feature a leitmotif or two predominantly performed under pudgy pretenses. I'm not going to go on that whole novella-length spiel again, but rest assured knowing that this song, too, is one that makes me think about my OCs. Since it's something many people missed, however, I will take a moment to point out that this song quotes none other than Autumn Every Day off of my album of the same name!

Painting and visual art have been something of a reoccurring obsession of mine in my own art. I grew up around visual artists, have always been friends with many visual artists, and generally have a really intense love of it as a medium and a mode of expression. However, there's also always been a sense of... well, I don't want to call it jealousy, but it's jealousy. I've tried many times to start making visual art of my own, and I have made some things, but it's been a struggle, and I worry sometimes that my eye has permanently outstripped my ability.

However, in my quest to toss out grand expectations and simply have fun making art, I did recently pick up a cheap little drawing tablet! I'm excited to be a beginner at something artistic again...

Finally, I want to thank a couple people: Soneji of Project Mikan for the gorgeous, soaring saxophone solo; friend_xp for the mindboggling MV editing; and especially my good friend Que for the GORGEOUS painterly art that goes along with this song! Que's style was just perfect for this, and really tied the whole thing together immaculately!! There's no joke or deeper lore or anything I just fucking love Que's art go follow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And with that, I think this post is complete!! If you have anything else you wanna know about, ask away in the replies! Tomorrow will be Breeze Blows with Marcy Nabors and Marlow Jacobs!!!

MAKE ART AND BE GAY

[francisjameschild]

Now! In 2008, news articles came out reporting that letters had been found in the archives of the Earl of Home from Lady Jane to her lawyers indicating her guilt. However, on looking into it I'm not sold that it's strong evidence in any state or fashion- the researcher who found the letter is writer, journalist, television producer, and now convicted sex offender Karl Sabbagh, and the undated letter from Lady Jane question goes, “O Lord of Infinite Mercy and Great Compassion,” it reads, “this is a day of great Perplexity with me and of great trouble & distress therefore I come to thee say thou the word and thy servant shall be healed thou even thou only can heal the brocken [sic] in heart and bind up all their wounds but I’m not worthy of such as this when my crimes are gone over my head and are a heavy burden too heavy for me to bear . . . Cleanse me from all my vileness and wickedness and make this guilty heart yet a sacrefise [sic] of Praise unto thee."

His other evidence is a journal from one of Lady Jane's many lawyers, James Carnegy of Boysack, who was frustrated by working with the Duchess of Douglas (Margaret Douglas, Archibald the elder's widow, now Archibald the younger's primary family), who wrote, "I know the Duchess well enough by sad experience to be sensible that she detests nothing so much as such discoveries and that in order to please her you must find out stories that appear favourable to her views, though they be never so vain and illusory . . . I am sorry to say it even to myself, that when the foundation is false it is a difficult matter to raise a superstructure that is good and honest and of which the different pieces tally and correspond.”

But, as Sabbagh put it, Carnegy, "described one of the witnesses for Douglas as a ‘bitch’ and another as a ‘rascal’, and the terms in which he wrote about his client, the Duchess, would have had him drummed out of the legal profession if they had come out.” (Source)

From this Sabbagh concludes the possibility that that the babies were purchased, but underlines the ambiguity of the situation and how it's still open to interpretation. (Source) Personally I'm disinclined to place heavy weight on the undated un-detailed religious guilt of a 18th c. noblewoman who lost a child at one point or the possibly misogynistic frustrations of one of many lawyers tasked with building a case in evidence for a couple's three-month stay from 14+ years prior in another country's capital city in the 1700s, nor does Sabbagh's sex offender conviction endear his interpretations of a woman's life to me, though in my cursory look around I see no fault with how he presents his research.

Choose your own adventure though! If Lady Jane mounted a wildly ambitious bid to con an unjust patrilinear system of inheritance (later supported by her sister-in-law) I rather support them both, and if she was just a normal person who had babies at an unusually late age and had to deal with mountains of bullshit thereafter she's got my vote as well.

This one is Child 204 Jamie Douglas, which is tied up with several loaned verses from Wally Wally/The Water Is Wide.

Franklin wrote of the song,

"Lady Barbara Erskine, eldest daughter of John, Earl of Mar, was married to James, second Marquis of Douglas, near the end of the year 1670. The marriage did not prove happy, and the parties were formally separated in 1681. The blame of the alienation of Duglas from his wife is imputed by tradition to William Lawrie, the marquis's principal chamberlain or factor, who was appointed to that place in 1670, the year of the marriage. Lawrie married Marion Weir, of the family of Blackwood, then a widow, He is often styled the laird of Blackwood, a title which belonged to his son by this marriage, his own proper designation being, after the birth of his son, the Tutor of Blackwood.

The ballad first appeared in print in the second edition of Herd's Scottish Songs, 1776, but only as a fragment of five stanzas. Most of the versions have from one stanza to four of a beautiful song, known from the first quarter of the eighteenth century, and printed fifty years earlier than any copy of the ballad (see Notes).

So the Jamie Douglas in question is pretty straightforward- first engaged to "the daughter of one Widow Jack, a taverner at Perth" (source) he then apparently broke that off to instead marry the (presumably wealthier and at least more titled) Lady Barbara.

They wed in 1670, and, soon after believing the tales of his wife's infidelity, Douglas rejected Barbara Erskine and she returned to her father's home where she never married again, but she did get a decree from the Privy Council giving her a provision out of her husband’s estate.

All that said, I've spent the last few weeks reading up on and trying to make sense of the absolutely insane amount of drama that followed Jamie Douglas' two children by his second marriage- will try to summarize that and make a timeline here in a bit!

[fanficfanattic]

Chapter five has really gone off the rails. So far Jamie hasn’t actually told anyone about his trauma but has, instead, explained niche markets and how an advert aimed towards them can be expanded out enough to still appeal to the masses. (He explains he was just trying to answer the question about why Sam was wearing boots in his Dubai Air mock-ups, not making fun of him).

“So you’re perfect for getting footy fans interested in Dubai Air, coming full circle on the sponsorship plus advertising plus a niche market.

But like I said. They don’t stop there. Brad Pitt weren’t gonna pull in sports fans. But a semi-famous person is gonna appeal to all those other folks we talked about. And you being well known in sports is the same as being semi-famous to daytime telly watchers.

So, like, if they see a really fit handsome Black man, and don’t know that he’s supposed to be famous, that’s all they see. And chances are any airline is gonna have fit handsome Black men riding them. It’s not an especially motivating draw.

Put the boots on, they see you’re a footballer, so they know you are famous but that explains why they didn’t recognize you. The appeal of Relatable Famous Person Really Chooses Us without paying extra for a whole ‘nother campaign.”

Jamie does not care that this diatribe includes calling Sam fit and attractive. That’s an objective truth, c’mon guys, it doesn’t have to be any more than that.

I am entirely unconvinced this will even be in the chapter. It might exist solely for my Jamie Tartt is Autistic beliefs. The number of times I have earnestly answered a rhetorical or sarcastic question is unable to be calculated. The limit does not exist.

[partenopae]

@untaintedtea and @edensgay tagged me to do this ages ago and i’m finally getting around to it bc i really wanted to do it and i think it’s super neat!! i’m gonna do it aesthetic-y like sam did bc that was cool af(tm)

say the first three (3) things that you think of your OC(s)! (Without an explanation, of course)!

Hope Bishop: a box full of burnt matches, pierced ears, prayers whispered from bloody lips

Noah Jones: hair that’s tangled from the wind, bobby pins that turn up from the weirdest places, ink dripping from needles

Jamie Ramsey: bloodied knuckles, cans of stacked soda, accentuating your dark circles instead of covering them up

[mymelodyheart]

Something I Want To Share ...

Here is a comment I received on AO3. I am sharing this with you not because I want to bash the commenter here online for their opinion, but I would like to know if anyone else was offended by my portrayal of Yi Tien Cho's character in my last chapter. Below is the comment I received and my answer. Thank you for taking the time to read. (PS Whatever your thoughts and opinion are, they are always welcome)

Comment

I am so disappointed and upset at how you portrayed Yi Tien Cho and massage therapists. What you wrote is plain racist.

Your description of Yi Tien Cho, his practice ("Oriental" Holistic Centre), services offered by him (reflexology and foot fetish? You should have ditched this canon reference as this was extremely racist), massage therapists described as exotic and extremely attractive, massage therapistsexually propositioning Jamie and making advances when he declines (why would you do this? Why would you reinforce the stereotype that Asian woman are sex workers?) - all of this is extremely racist.

You are perpetuating the stereotypes against Asians. None of this is funny. I bet you wrote this thinking it's funny to have a character like Yi Tien Cho and have things lost in translation or Jamie running away from a sex worker. It is not.

Based on your description of Broch Mordha the village seems white (Asian massage therapists are referred as exotic in your story). So the only Asian people in this village are either sex workers or Yi Tien Cho?

What you wrote is extremely upsetting given it was just six months ago where Asian women working at Atlanta spas were murdered because of harmful stereotypes like this.

Do you know how often Asian women get mistaken for sex workers? Every time I travel despite showing my itinerary, return tickets, my business card, I still get questioned by immigration about my travel because they think a young Asian woman travelling alone is a sex worker?

I can't believe out of 27 comments no one commented on how problematic this is. They all just laughed at how funny it was to see Jamie running away from the massage therapist and how funny/weird Yi Tien Cho is. I'm so disappointed and angry. Asians are real people with feelings and stop using Asians for cheap laughs.

My Reply

My grandmother is Asian and if anyone understands racism is me. Though I'm multiracial, it is very apparent to anyone who can see I am part Asian. Because of it, I have been ridiculed, made fun of, bullied, and often than not, I've felt at a disadvantage growing up and in all aspects of my career. 

Though this is painful and disturbing to see, my grandmother always told me, the diatribe I got had nothing to do with me or how I looked. It had more to do with ignorance, upbringing and narrowmindedness of the people who'd been tyrannising me or, in later years, racial profiling me. She taught me compassion for these people because they didn't know any better or didn't have the opportunity, like her, to travel and widen their horizons. And so, I embraced these beliefs.

When I decided to introduce Yi Tien Cho into my story, I thought of the stories my grandmother told me when she first came to Britain. She was old school, a traditionalist and imparted a lot of her culture, her innate (Eastern) healing acumen and her ways to the people of her host country. Some welcomed it. But at most, she was made fun of behind her back, but she took all that in a stride. She, too, found the West's culture strange, funny and hilarious and often dissed their ways, to the annoyance of her (white) husband, who she called stinky because he didn't bathe every day, citing the always cold and damp weather of London. Though my granddad didn't like that being pointed out to him,  he took it as a playful dig and nothing more. 

Now, I've been dubbed exotic now and again, with my olive skin, chinky eyes as the Brits usually called it and long curly dark hair. I saw no malice in it because, for me, it's just a word and words could mean a lot of things depending on how it's delivered. Probably some meant it offensive. But that's not on me. That's on them.  Throughout my life, I've embraced my gran's advice, and I've learned not to take a lot of things personally. As my gran used to say, You are not what people think you are. They are what they think you are. And to add to that, a quote I've seen floating around on social media, Taking offence where none is offered, should be a trigger to self-reflection. 

I know deep in my soul I am not inciting racism or hatred or any of the sort. Therefore I will not apologise for how this story triggered anger in you because I'm not responsible for how you understand.

PS I married a half-black man, and we have a ginger afro son. My child had also been made fun of because of his multi-ethnicity features. But I've passed on my gran's words, and he, too, have learned to accept people's shortcomings with compassion.

[jcmiesingh]

@oofkemal​​ // high volume re-opening party

jamie’s morning shift was well over, but that didn’t stop him from lingering around the store to enjoy the festivities-- and get properly fucked up now. maybe an event at your workplace with your boss hanging around isn’t the best place for it, but jamie’s nothing if not opportunistic when it comes to that kind of thing. he’s wandering around the store, half-empty flask in his pocket, when he hears the sound of an angry customer to his left. jamie turns to see which of his unlucky coworkers is the recipient of this middle-aged man’s diatribe, but his stomach lurches slightly to see that it’s kem. he’s tried to go back to basically ignoring kem whenever possible, which is exactly what he knows he should do right now-- but the customer’s being a real goddamn prick. and something in jamie’s drunk mind just won’t allow kem to take it laying down.

“hey man, what’s your problem?” jamie interrupts. “the sign outside says ‘reopening celebration,’ not ‘assholes welcome.’”

[jayjtheunsispiciousmelodicathem]

You know how sometimes you're like "how the hell did people figure this stuff out back in the day?"?

The obvious answer is trial and error, of course, but how would they know what to try and where they erred? I feel like I've experienced a small-scale version of the whole phenomenon

So my nose is notoriously a bitch - vasomotor rhinitis makes some airs (especially winter and autumn) difficult for my nose to breathe in, and only one highly addictive kind of nasal spray helps, and another kind kind of helps but it's more hit or miss at times

but

there is one kind of situation in which my nose gets unclogged without any medicine - when I do intense physical work or scale the stairs

it increases my heartbeat, of course, but it also happens to alleviate the clogged nose

so at some point I thought "increased heartbeat = free breathing; caffeine = increased heartbeat; coffee = caffeine"

so I made some coffee for science, and after like half an hour the caffeine kicks in, and lo and behold, I can breathe again!

so essentially I discovered an herbal medicine for my annoying case of bitchy nose

[glutaminase]

I actually love the “intimacy is about truth” line about damie because it rings true for them. A healthy relationship based on communication? Here for it.

For Evelyn and Celia? Their rs seemed sooo superficial and toxic. It took me out of the story entirely. I just didn’t believe any of it

oh ya 100%, that line used in the context of dani and jamie? i totally buy it it’s completely in keeping with the themes of their relationship. also i’m so glad someone agrees about evelyn and celia lmao again I only got like halfway through the book but for all of their scenes that I read (I think I got a little past them sleeping together?) i was like WHY DO YOU EVEN LIKE EACH OTHER????? Like it’s one thing to write sappy romantic diatribes about a couple that’s actually compelling it’s another thing to utterly fail to write a believable love story AND THEN ALSO insult the audience by putting in all that syrupy shit about intimacy 

[considerourknowledge]

Democrats Plan to Rest Impeachment Case With ‘Trump Did It, You Cowards!’

The House managers have about eight hours left on their third and final day of impeachment arguments to persuade Republican senators to convict former President Donald Trump. House managers are urging the Senate to hold Mr. Trump to a higher standard, which they should have all along, rather than to a legal definition of incitement. By all accounts the House managers, led by Rep. Jamie Raskin, have done a great job in laying out the facts and making it painfully obvious that Donald Trump is absolutely responsible for the Capitol attack on January 6th. The fact that there are so many Republican senators who want to give Trump a pass is maddening for the Democrats, and they plan to finish today’s argument with a diatribe aimed at anyone who won’t vote to impeach. Here is an excerpt from the final portion of today’s closing statement-

“Are you fucking kidding me? This asshole would have let every single one of you die at the hands of that mob. He doesn’t care about any of you, and neither does that mob. The fact that we’ve laid out the perfect case against him and you’ll still protect Donald fucking Trump is the most ludicrous thing ever. Trump incited the mob! He did it, you cowards! Grow a spine and stop catering to the unwashed white supremacist militia shitbags in your party! Fuck me, you’re pathetic. I rest my case.”

[whatisthiswitchcraft]

books I read in 2019 (not including rereads, favorites are bolded!)

Come Close - Sappho

Shanghai Baby - Wei Hui

Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair - Pablo Neruda

Bad Feminist: Essays - Roxane Gay

The Mother of Black Hollywood: A Memoir - Jenifer Lewis

Sula - Toni Morrison

Reinventing the Enemy’s Language: Contemporary Native Women’s Writings of North America - ed. Joy Harjo and Gloria Bird

How to Write an Autobiographical Novel - Alexander Chee

Night Sky With Exit Wounds - Ocean Vuong

If They Come For Us - Fatimah Asghar

Heart Berries: A Memoir - Terese Marie Mailhot

Less - Andrew Sean Greer

The Astonishing Color of After - Emily X.R. Pan

Goodbye, Vitamin - Rachel Khong

Darius the Great is Not Okay - Adib Khorram

Exit West - Mohsin Hamid

Homegirls and Handgrenades - Sonia Sanchez

Heavy: An American Memoir - Keise Laymon

All You Can Ever Know - Nicole Chung

Unaccustomed Earth - Jhumpa Lahiri

The Wife Between Us - Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekkanen

The Way You Make Me Feel - Maureen Goo

A Very Large Expanse of Sea - Tahereh Mafi

Water By the Spoonful - Quiara Alegría Hudes

I Can’t Date Jesus: Love, Sex, Family, Race, and Other Reasons I’ve Put My Faith in Beyoncé - Michael Arceneaux

Bury It - Sam Sax

White Dancing Elephants - Chaya Bhuvaneswar

Pulp - Robin Talley

Shit is Real - Aisha Franz

Silencer - Marcus Wicker

Forget Sorrow: An Ancestral Tale - Belle Yang

Bestiary: Poems - Donika Kelly

Monster Portraits - Sofia Samatar

No Matter the Wreckage - Sarah Kay

Violet Energy Ingots - Hoa Nguyen

Olio - Tyehimba Jess

The Kane Chronicles: The Serpent’s Shadow - Rick Riordan

There Are More Beautiful Things Than Beyoncé - Morgan Parker

Nylon Road: A Graphic Memoir of Coming of Age in Iran - Parsua Bashi

The Wedding Date - Jasmine Guillory

Fruit of the Drunken Tree - Ingrid Rojas Contreras

An American Marriage - Tayari Jones

Family Trust - Kathy Wang

Not That Bad: Dispatches from Rape Culture - ed. Roxane Gay

Little & Lion - Brandy Colbert

A Girl Like That - Tanaz Bhathena

Suicide Club: A Novel About Living - Rachel Heng

The Disturbed Girl’s Dictionary - NoNieqa Ramos

My Old Faithful: Stories - Yang Huang

Crazy Rich Asians - Kevin Kwan

Girls Burn Brighter - Shobha Rao

Moon of the Crusted Snow - Waubgeshig Rice

Kingdom Animalia - Aracelis Girmay

Happiness - Aminatta Forna

Devotions - Mary Oliver

The Proposal - Jasmine Guillory

The Kiss Quotient - Helen Hoang

When Katie Met Cassidy - Camille Perri

Heads of the Colored People - Nafissa Thompson-Spires

Friday Black: Stories - Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah

The Word is Murder - Anthony Horowitz

Miles from Nowhere - Nami Mun

The Lost Ones - Sheena Kamal

All the Names They Used for God - Anjali Sachdeva

Confessions of the Fox - Jordy Rosenberg

Love, Loss, and What We Ate: A Memoir - Padma Lakshmi

On the Come Up - Angie Thomas

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society - Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows

The Love & Lies of Rukhsana Ali - Sabina Khan

See What I Have Done - Sarah Schmitt

Convenience Store Woman - Sayaka Murata

I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter - Erika Sánchez

For Today I Am A Boy - Kim Fu

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo - Taylor Jenkins Reid

Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings - Joy Harjo

They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us - Hanif Abdurraqib

Mongrels - Stephen Graham Jones

If Beale Street Could Talk - James Baldwin

Death of Innocence: The Story of the Hate Crime that Changed America - Mamie Till-Mobley and Christopher Benson

The Gilded Wolves - Roshani Chokshi

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before - Jenny Han

The Perfect Nanny - Leila Slimani, translated by Sam Taylor

The Travelling Cat Chronicles - Hiro Arikawa, translated by Philip Gabriel

Things We Lost in the Fire - Mariana Enríquez, translated by Megan McDowell

Sunburn - Laura Lippman

The House of Impossible Beauties - Joseph Cassara

Freshwater - Akwaeke Emezi

A Private Life - Chen Ran, translated by John Howard-Gibbon

Invisible: The Forgotten Story of the Black Woman Lawyer Who Took Down America’s Most Powerful Mobster - Stephen L. Carter

Undead Girl Gang - Lily Anderson

They Both Die at the End - Adam Silvera

The Friend - Sigrid Nunez

Severance - Ling Ma

Tiny Crimes: Very Short Tales of Mystery & Murder - ed. Licoln Michel and Nadxieli Nieto

Mapping the Interior - Stephen Graham Jones

Give Me Some Truth - Eric Gansworth

How to Love a Jamaican - Alexia Arthurs

All of This is True - Lygia Day Peñaflor

Swimmer Among the Stars - Kanishk Tharoor

The Wicked + the Divine, Vol. 7: Mothering Invention - Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie

This is Kind of an Epic Love Story - Kheryn Callender

Gingerbread - Helen Oyeyemi

Where the Dead Sit Talking - Brandon Hobson

The Ensemble - Aja Gabel

My Education - Susan Choi

More Happy than Not - Adam Silvera

Nobody Cares: Essays - Anne T. Donahue

Kiss and Tell: A Romantic Résumé, Ages 0 to 22 - Marinaomi

Oculus: Poems - Sally Wen Mao

Let’s Talk About Love - Claire Kann

History is All You Left Me - Adam Silvera

Opposite of Always - Justin A. Reynolds

The Crown Ain’t Worth Much - Hanif Abdurraqib

The Weight of Our Sky - Hanna Alkaf

If You See Me, Don’t Say Hi - Neel Patel

Girls of Paper and Fire - Natasha Ngan

What if It’s Us - Becky Albertalli and Adam Silvera

The Map of Salt and Stars - Jennifer Zeynab Joukhadar

October Mourning: A Song for Matthew Shepard - Lesléa Newman

The Big Smoke - Adrian Matejka

Dissolve - Sherwin Bitsui

The Woman Next Door - Yewande Omotoso

The Refugees - Viet Thanh Nguyen

White Tears - Hari Kunzru

Electric Arches - Eve Ewing

The Black Maria - Aracelis Girmay

Bloodchild and Other Stories - Octavia Butler

Soft Science - Franny Choi

The White Card - Claudia Rankine

Mad Honey Symposium - Sally Wen Mao

The Care and Feeding of Ravenously Hungry Girls - Anissa Gray

Next: New Poems - Lucille Clifton

The Marvelous Arithmetics of Distance: Poems 1987-1992 - Audre Lorde

Quilting the Black-Eyed Pea: Poems and Not Quite Poems - Nikki Giovanni

The Arab of the Future - Riad Sattouf

Ghosts in the Schoolyard: Racism and School Closings on Chicago’s South Side - Eve L. Ewing

Gruel - Bunkong Tuon

Marriage of a Thousand Lies - SJ Sindu

Parable of the Sower - Octavia Butler

Good Night, Willie Lee, I’ll See You in the Morning - Alice Walker

That Kind of Mother - Rumaan Alam

Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows - Balli Kaur Jaswal

Hera Lindsay Bird - Hera Lindsay Bird

Queenie - Candice Carty-Williams

And Still I Rise - Maya Angelou

The Man Who Shot Out My Eye Is Dead - Chanelle Benz

Everyone Knows You Go Home - Natalia Sylvester

Naming Our Destiny: New and Selected Poems - June Jordan

The 100* Best African American Poems (*But I Cheated) - ed. Nikki Giovanni

The Haunting of Tram Car 015 - P. Djèlí Clark

Bury My Clothes - Roger Bonair-Agard

Selected Poems - Langston Hughes

Their Eyes Were Watching God - Zora Neale Hurston

Sonata Mulattica - Rita Dove

Winnie - Gwendolyn Brooks

Bicycles: Love Poems - Nikki Giovanni

The Black God’s Drums -  P. Djèlí Clark

Kid Gloves: Nine Months of Careful Chaos - Lucy Knisley

Annie Allen - Gwendolyn Brooks

Parable of the Talents  - Octavia Butler

After Disasters - Viet Dinh

Passing for Human: A Graphic Memoir - Liana Finck

Teeth - Aracelis Girmay

A Surprised Queenhood in the New Black Sun: The Life & Legacy of Gwendolyn Brooks - Angela Jackson

Peluda - Melissa Lozada-Oliva

A Map to the Next World - Joy Harjo

Magical Negro - Morgan Parker

Corpse Whale - dg nanouk okpik

Hawkeye: Volume 1 - Matt Fraction

Cenzontle - Marcelo Hernandez Castillo

Don’t Let Me Be Lonely: An American Lyric - Claudia Rankine

Selected Poems - Gwendolyn Brooks

She Had Some Horses - Joy Harjo

The BreakBeat Poets: New American Poetry in the Age of Hip-Hope - ed. Kevin Coval, Quraysh Ali Lansana, and Nate Marshall

Beyond Uhura: Star Trek and Other Memories - Nichelle Nichols

The Past and Other Things that Should Stay Buried - Shaun David Hutchinson

Difficult Women - Roxane Gay

The Woman Who Fell From the Sky - Joy Harjo

The Collected Schizophrenias: Essays - Esmé Weijun Wang

Go Ahead in the Rain: Notes to A Tribe Called Quest - Hanif Abdurraqib

The Frolic of the Beasts - Yukio Mishima

Hawkeye Omnibus - Matt Fraction

Good Talk: A Memoir in Conversations - Mira Jacob

Karamo: My Story of Embracing Purpose, Healing, and Hope - Karamo Brown

Tipping the Velvet - Sarah Waters

When My Brother Was an Aztec - Natalie Diaz

Toxic Flora: Poems - Kimiko Hahn

Virgin - Analicia Sotelo

Easy Prey - Catherine Lo

Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up With Me - Mariko Tamaki and Rosemary Valero-O’Connell

Saints and Misfits - S.K. Ali

Intercepted - Alexa Martin

Love from A to Z - S.K. Ali

Gemini - Sonya Mukherjee

The Atlas of Reds and Blues - Devi S. Laskar

My Brother’s Husband Vol. II - Gengoroh Tagame

Black Queer Hoe - Britteney Black Rose Kapri

Internment - Samira Ahmed

Dothead: Poems - Amit Majmudar

With the Fire On High - Elizabeth Acevedo

Sabrina & Corina: Stories - Kali Fajardo-Anstine

Milk and Filth - Carmen Giménez Smith

The Key to Happily Ever After - Tif Marcelo

If You’re Out There - Katy Loutzenhiser

Farewell to Manzanar - Jeanne Wakatsuki Houston

New Poets of Native Nations - ed. Heid E. Erdrich

Bodymap: Poems - Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Wolf by Wolf - Ryan Graudin

Tell Me How It Ends - Valeria Luiselli

Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood - Trevor Noah

Down and Across - Arvin Ahmadi

The Tradition - Jericho Brown

About Betty’s Boob - Vero Cazot and Julie Rocheleau

Fake It Till You Break It - Jenn P. Nguyen

Storm of Locusts - Rebecca Roanhorse

Silver Sparrow - Tayari Jones

Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors - Sonali Dev

Mongrel: Essays, Diatribes, Pranks - Justin Chin

When I Grow Up I Want To Be a List of Further Possibilities - Chen Chen

The New Testament - Jericho Brown

Fumbled - Alexa Martin

If It Makes You Happy - Claire Kann

Brave Face - Shaun David Hutchinson

Words in Deep Blue - Cath Crowley

Lost Children Archive - Valeria Luiselli

Care Work: Dreaming Disability Justice - Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy - Ta-Nehisi Coates

Anger is a Gift - Mark Oshiro

The Bride Test - Helen Hoang

Not Your Backup - C.B. Lee

Prelude to Bruise - Saeed Jones

The Night Wanderer: A Graphic Novel - Drew Hayden Taylor and Michael Wyatt

Naturally Tan - Tan France

Bloom - Kevin Panetta and Savanna Ganucheau

Like a Love Story - Abdi Nazemian

I’m Afraid of Men - Vivek Shraya

Juliet Takes a Breath - Gabby Rivera

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous - Ocean Vuong

Let Me Hear a Rhyme - Tiffany D. Jackson

I Wanna Be Where You Are - Kristina Forest

Hurricane Season - Nicole Melleby

Split Tooth - Tanya Tagaq

Hungry Hearts: 13 Tales of Love and Food - ed. Elsie Chapman and Caroline Tung Richmond

The Night Tiger - Yangsze Choo

Long Live the Tribe of Fatherless Girls - T Kira Madden

Miracle Creek - Angie Kim

Ayesha at Last - Uzma Jalaluddin

Shout - Laurie Halse Anderson

The Breakbeat Poets Vol. 3: Halal if You Hear Me - ed. Fatimah Asghar and Safia Elhillo

The Tenth Muse - Catherine Chung

This Place: 150 Years Retold - various authors

Kings, Queens, and In-Betweens - Tanya Boteju

Midnight Chicken (& Other Recipes Worth Living For) - Ella Risbridger

Library of Small Catastrophes - Alison C. Rollins

Natalie Tan’s Book of Luck and Fortune - Roselle Lim

No Ashes in the Fire: Coming of Age Black and Free in America - Darnell L. Moore

The Book of Delights - Ross Gay

The 7 1/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle - Stuart Turton

Speak No Evil - Uzodinma Iweala

How We Fight White Supremacy - Akiba Solomon and Kenrya Rankin

A Love Story Starring My Dead Best Friend - Emily Horner

Here and Now and Then - Mike Chen 

The Ghost Bride - Yangsze Choo

Red White and Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston

Becoming - Michelle Obama

The Wedding Party - Jasmine Guillory

Magic for Liars - Sarah Gailey

I’ll Be Gone in the Dark: One Woman’s Obsessive Search for the Golden State Killer - Michelle McNamara

Brain Fever - Kimiko Hahn

Life on Mars - Tracy K. Smith

Notebooks of a Chile Verde Smuggler - Juan Felipe Herrera

Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude - Ross Gay

Tentacle - Rita Indiana

Hapa Tales and Other Lies: A Memoir About the Mixed Race Hawai’i That I Never Knew - Sharon Chang

Loose Woman - Sandra Cisneros

Duende - Tracy K. Smith

Mostly Dead Things - Kristen Arnett

1919 - Eve L. Ewing

Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race - Reni Eddo-Lodge

Negroland - Margo Jefferson

For Black Girls Like Me - Mariama J. Lockington

Super Extra Grande - Yoss

Home Remedies - Xuan Juliana Wang

You Can’t Touch My Hair: And Other Things I Still Have to Explain - Phoebe Robinson

An Anonymous Girl - Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekkanen

The Abundance - Amit Majmudar

I Shall Not Be Moved - Maya Angelou

Helium - Rudy Francisco

Teaching My Mother to Give Birth - Warsan Shire

Tomie - Junji Ito

Everything’s Trash, But It’s Okay - Phoebe Robinson

This Time Will Be Different - Misa Sugiura

Junji Ito’s Cat Diary: Yon & Mu - Junji Ito

Stag’s Leap - Sharon Olds

Black Card - Chris L. Terry

It’s Not Like It’s A Secret - Misa Sugiura

Washington Black - Esi Edugyan

From Here To Eternity: Traveling the World to Find the Good Death - Caitlin Doughty

I’m Telling the Truth, But I’m Lying: Essays - Bassey Ikpi

A House of My Own: Stories from my Life - Sandra Cisneros

The Terrible - Yrsa Daley-Ward

The Black Tides of Heaven - JY Yang

The Red Threads of Fortune - JY Yang

Little Fish - Casey Plett

Trick Mirror: Reflections on Self-Delusion - Jia Tolentino

The Black Condition ft. Narcissus - Jayy Dodd

The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt

Dealing in Dreams - Lilliam Rivera

The Tiger Flu - Larissa Lai

The Island of Sea Women - Lisa See

America is Not the Heart - Elaine Castillo

Feel Free - Zadie Smith

Walking on the Ceiling - Aysegul Savas

My Time Among the Whites: Notes from an Unfinished Education - Jennine Capo Crucet

The Unpassing - Chia-Chia Lin

Maurice - E.M. Forster

Permanent Record - Mary H.K. Choi

The Downstairs Girl - Stacey Lee

Red Dust Road: An Autobiographical Journey - Jackie Kay

The Ungrateful Refugee: What Immigrants Never Tell You - Dina Nayeri

I Married My Best Friend to Shut My Parents Up - Naoko Kodama

Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI - David Grann

Ordinary Light - Tracy K. Smith

Cantoras - Carolina De Robertis

Brain on Fire: My Month of Madness - Susannah Cahalan

How to Be Remy Cameron - Julian Winters

The Marriage Clock - Zara Raheem

Moon: Letters, Maps, Poems - Jennifer S. Cheng

Where Reasons End - Yiyun Li

Pet - Akwaeke Emezi

Meddling Kids - Edgar Cantero

A Lucky Man - Jamel Brinkley

Maiden, Mother, Crone: Fantastical Trans Femmes - ed. Gwen Benaway

What is Obscenity? The Story of a Good for Nothing Artist and her Pussy - Rokudenashiko

The Umbrella Academy Vol. III: Hotel Oblivion - Gerard Way

Who Put This Song On? - Morgan Parker

The Souls of Yellow Folk: Essays - Wesley Yang

Wave - Sonali Deraniyagala

Love War Stories - Ivelisse Rodriguez

Baby Teeth - Zoje Stage

A Fortune for Your Disaster - Hanif Abdurraqib

Eyes Bottle Dark with a Mouthful of Flowers - Jake Skeets

Dear America: Notes of an Undocumented Citizen - Jose Antonio Vargas

The Marrow Thieves - Cherie Dimaline

Polite Society - Mahesh Rao

Patron Saints of Nothing - Randy Ribay

The Body Papers: A Memoir - Grace Talusan

A Woman is No Man - Etaf Rum

Travelers - Helon Habila

Trust Exercise - Susan Choi

The Silent Patient - Alex Michaelides

The Intuitionist - Colson Whitehead

A People’s History of Heaven - Mathangi Subramanian

The Buddha of Suburbia - Hanif Kureishi

This is Paradise: Stories - Kristiana Kahakauwila

Brood - Kimiko Hahn

Don’t Look Now - Daphne du Maurier

How We Fight for Our Lives - Saeed Jones

I Hope You Get This Message - Farah Naz Rishi

Unmarriageable - Soniah Kamal

Bad Endings - Carleigh Baker

The Water Dancer - Ta-Nehisi Coates

The Lady from the Black Lagoon: Hollywood Monsters and the Lost Legacy of Milicent Patrick - Mallory O’Meara

Shapes of Native Nonficton: Collected Essays by Contemporary Writers - ed. Elissa Washuta and Theresa Warburton

Harley Quinn: Breaking Glass - Mariko Tamaki

Even the Saints Audition - Rachel Jackson

Slay - Britney Morris

#NotYourPrincess: Voices of Native American Women - ed. Lisa Charleyboy and Mary Beth Leatherdale

The Starlet and the Spy - Ji-min Lee

North of Dawn - Nuruddin Farah

Daisy Jones & The Six - Taylor Jenkins Reid

The Drowning Boy’s Guide to Water - Cameron Barnett

They Called Us Enemy - George Takei

Dear Girls: Intimate Tales, Untold Secrets, and Advice for Living Your Best Life - Ali Wong

The Right Swipe - Alisha Rai

Full Disclosure - Camryn Garrett

Searching for Sylvie Lee - Jean Kwok

Gideon the Ninth - Tasmyn Muir

Stubborn Archivist - Yara Rodrigues Fowler

The Wicked + the Divine, Vol. 8: Old is the New New - Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie

Never Grow Up - Jackie Chan

“All the Real Indians Died Off”: And 20 Other Myths About Native Americans - Roxanna Dunbar-Ortiz

In the Dream House - Carmen Maria Machado

Blame This on the Boogie - Rina Ayuyang

It - Stephen King

Sea Monsters - Chloe Aridjis

My Fate According to the Butterfly - Gail D. Villanueva

The Wicked + the Divine, Vol. 9: “Okay” - Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie

The Deep - Rivers Solomon

I Hope We Choose Love: A Trans Girl’s Notes from the End of the World - Kai Cheng Thom

Mooncakes - Suzanne Walker

BTTM FDRS - Ezra Claytan Daniels and Ben Passmore

Hot Comb - Ebony Flowers

Notes from a Young Black Chef - Kwame Onwuachi

Bunny - Mona Awad

The Twisted Ones - T. Kingfisher

Shuri, Vol. 1: The Search for Black Panther - Nnedi Okorafor

I Was Their American Dream: A Graphic Memoir - Malaka Gharib

Thick: And Other Essays - Tressie McMillan Cottom

Royal Holiday - Jasmine Guillory

Boxers - Gene Luen Yang

Saints - Gene Luen Yang

Fox 8 - George Saunders

The Memory Police - Yoko Ogawa

Last Day - Domenica Ruta

Wakanda Forever - Nnedi Okorafor

The Revisioners - Margaret Wilkerson Sexton

The Future of Another Timeline - Annalee Newitz

We Have Always Been Here: A Queer Muslim Memoir - Samra Habib

Somewhere in the Middle: A Journey to the Phillipines in Search of Roots, Belonging, and Identity - Deborah Francisco Douglas

Crier’s War - Nina Varela

Something in Between - Melissa de la Cruz

The Secrets We Kept - Lara Prescott

The Tao of Raven: An Alaska Native Memoir - Ernestine Hayes

One of Us is Lying - Karen M. McManus

Piecing Me Together - Renee Watson

Binti - Nnedi Okorafor

The Nickel Boys - Colson Whitehead

Recursion - Blake Crouch

Supper Club - Lara Williams

[mikanskey]

Cyrano de Bergerac  - an impressionist review.  (Adapted by Jamie Lloyd and Martin Crimp with James McAvoy in the title role).

Attention spoilers !!! If you are going to see this play, do not read the following column! Do not spoil the surprise. For those who will read the following, thank you for excusing my bad English, it's not my native language.

7:15 p.m. Playhouse theater, a prestigious hall and an old place that smells of 19th century neo-rococo balconies, gilded chandeliers and a dome. We're early. We sit in the play room, 5th rank in the center. Very good places. The curtain is lifted even though the scene is still empty. The decor is a hollow cube of faux concrete. Trowel-painted white, orange plastic chairs, a few standing microphones with their long wires lying on the floor. The impression of landing in an artists' squat hidden in a suburban warehouse.

Just a minute to realize that we are there for real, just a few moments to attend this event and the play begins. The lights come on, raw, white. They are on stage, Him is not visible. A dozen actresses and actors of all ages, colorful looks, punk, sportswear, hoodies, sneakers, overalls and pants lattice. When they speak it's to us, the audience. It is a very original and initially puzzling stage game, rare will be the times when the actors will have a conversation while looking in each other eyes. We will quickly realize that this strange way of turning the dialogues has an amazing power, that of hypnotizing us. The one who speaks speaks to us, whether he is aggressive or declaims the most beautiful declaration of love, it is to us and to us alone that he offers it. The impact is immediate. The tone is immediately urban, immediately provocative. Nothing remains of the text of Edmond Rostand, nothing and everything since it is the live soul which alone lasts, of a stupendous modernity. The verbal jousting begins, we hear bits of beatbox.

Cyrano returns to the scene. He does not have his nose. Surprising as it may seem: no, Cyrano does not have his nose, this long nose, this big nose, this peninsula that was expected, is not. No Cyrano doesn’t have his nose, but he carries nevertheless the weight of it and behind the first pass of words/weapons is the shadow of this nose that we feel honed. The beginning is funny, light, they  make fun of each other, Cyrano is in love, he takes the microphone and conquers the stage. He is boasting, he drops his jacket and stays in a black T-shirt, jeans and Caterpillar with big laces. He faces with mimes and vivid words the ridiculous Vavert. He licks his lips, he anticipates his replicas, he has fun. He comes out victorious, but seems unsure of himself behind his bravado. His friend Le Bret asks him: - Are you in love? - Yes of the beautiful Roxanne, but I'm so ugly, I have no chance to be love by her !

Honestly, seing him so charismatic, we want to tell him that he is wrong. A messy messenger arrives suddenly with good news: Roxanne may have noticed Cyrano, she wants an appointment, she has important things to say to him. Cyrano is transported with joy, he looks like a kid, his smile is huge. Laughing, he take in his arms his friend Le Bret, who tries in vain to calm him down.

Quickly Cyrano anguish, he will see Roxanne, he will tell him ... Tell him what? He stammers and tries to compose a letter while the other actors buzz around him, the shop of Ragueneau is filled with people, the story continues. We are curious, but we don’t see this letter because when one say "letter" it is the microphone which he seizes and he kneels on stage and looks for the words by talking to this microphone whose thread is string on the ground. Roxanne appears shortly after. She has other things to say to him, hope or despair for him ? They are sitting on the steps of the stage, they talk about the ancient times when they were only two children. He is moved by those memories. He puts his hands on hers, he dares to believe in his luck, he looks into her eyes, he smiles shyly when she tells him that the man she loves is a soldier like him. When she admits that this man is handsome, Cyrano freezes. He seems empty suddenly, without emotion. She asks him to protect Christian, to love him as a brother, because it’s of course the gorgeous Christian she has noticed and not the hideous Cyrano. He accepts, disappointed, hurt.

The cadets arrive on stage, the hero of the day is to celebrate. Cyrano is their hero. They scream, sing, take off their t-shirts, seize Cyrano and undress him. Amongst these tall fellows, who are carved like trunks, he is by far the smallest, the least muscular, but he is certainly the loudest. They lift him up, literally take him to the skies. He finds a smile for them, his impertinence returns, Roxanne left. A huge comrade grabs him and he ends practically on his shoulders, in his arms, legs knotted around his chest. Arrives De Guiche, slender man with sharp replies. Everyone  calm down. He offers to Cyrano to finance his poetry at the price of his servility. He refuses. He makes fun of De Guiche, he is boastful. The men sneer. De Guiche goes away, upset. Remain the cadets, all standing, all on the left of the stage, Cyrano wallows on a chair, exhausted, alone on the right. "Why did you refuse such a proposal?" They say. He begins by responding wearily, then with effrontery, then with anger, he gets carried away. He is feeling cornered, as if he had to justify himself in court. What do they all believe? That he will sell his soul, that he will enslave the only thing he is proud of! Without his freedom and impertinence he is nothing but a grotesque monster. This tirade veered violently in rage and a sob stifled the end of his diatribe. He curls up in his chair and it’s with a knotted stomach that we witness helpless this beautiful despair, this extreme fragility. He sobs and it's poignant. Ragueneau approaches him, she hesitates to comfort him, we would like someone to do it so, to hug and protect him. He seems close to breaking.

The scene changes, the play progresses, Christian the young fiery idiot meets Cyrano. Their difference of charisma is so strong that one can only wonder where Roxanne saw in this great braggart a prince charming who ignores himself. The two men make a deal, one will be beauty, the other will be the brain to bewitch the beautiful Roxanne. The moment is light, Cyrano is benevolent, he still seems to believe that this simple deal will be enough for him. Roxanne is a fierce woman, she doesn’t hesitate to swear, and to play fool with the dark De Guiche who loves her. She is not a naive and pure beauty, she is a young woman with a fiery character, her lack of compassion is scary to be honest. It’s difficult to see the good side of this lady who seems so detached from everything and who plays with men like a capricious girl. But here is the famous scene of the balcony. But no balcony on stage! Instead: four chairs. Roxanne, Christian, De Guiche and Cyrano are seated. When the characters interact, they are turned towards us, they talk to each other  but look into our eyes, when they don’t speak  they turn their backs on us. It's a game of non-musical but poetic chairs. Christian starts, ridiculously bad, his talk can’t make rhymes, he can’t say poetic words, doesn’t have inspiration. Roxanne turns away from him moodily. Cyrano, while hiding, begins to whisper replicas to help the poor Christian. It's laborious but it works.

Suddenly Cyrano, caught in the game, speaks aloud and gets up to answer Roxanne. The two men froze, their eyes round like a rabbit under the headlights of a car. Roxanne suspects that something has changed but she doesn’t want to care. Cyrano takes the hand, Christian stands back. Light and funny, the exchange suddenly takes a different tone. Cyrano sits down, at first barely master of his emotions, the dialogue resumes with Roxanne. She pushes him to his entrenchments, haughty, laughing. He amuses her at first, replies with tenderness, flirts and finally, dismissing Christian who tried to speak again, Cyrano lowers his voice. His voice lowers and lowers until it is only a murmur, hot, bewitching. In the theater, no more noise, no more a breath. It’s towards us that Cyrano is turned, it is to us that he speaks, his eyes full of a calm passion, it is a confession, it is avowal, it is of such a sensuality that it's hard not to sigh. "Roxanne, I love you .." he begins. His voice enters through all the pores of our skin. "I want you ... I need you". The words that follow are a wave, a succession of waves, soft, enveloping, erotic. Roxanne barely interrupts him and, like her, we want this intoxicating way of making love without touching each other, only with the touch of this haunting voice, never ending. When the magic is interrupted it’s Christian who gets up and hugs a rapt Roxanne. He shamelessly enjoys the kiss so beautifully won by Cyrano and we are still too intoxicate by Cyrano’s voice to realize that Cyrano has lost this game and sacrifice his heart on the altar of his loyalty. He stands aside, the lovebirds kiss each other.

Come the priest, then De Guiche. Cyrano clowns, he saves time, lovers have to get married. To distract De Guiche, Cyrano recounts with his eyes closed, as in a dream, the adventures of the kingdom of the moon. It is amusing to see that when he has his eyes closed, the effect of hypnosis imposed by this funny staging where we are the forced interlocutors has less impact.

The action is jostling, De Guiche discovers the plot, insolent Roxanne provokes him. Bad idea. Discarded, humiliated in public, De Guiche who his general sends Cyrano and Christian to war. Roxanne remains alone in front of us while the two men leave the scene by walking towards the bottom of it turned black. She asks Cyrano to protect Christian: "I'll try" he says, she asks that Christian write her long letters "I'll do what I can" promises Cyrano who is only a voice that we hear from back stages. Light turn off. Entr’acte. The light comes back on stage there are big black stairs. Men are lying on each of them. They look like recumbent ones. Le Bret discusses with another soldier. Between them comes Cyrano, who has just climbed the back of the stairs. He is wrapped up in a black jacket, he wears his worned black jeans, and we notice that to be the most impetuous and flamboyant person in this room he is none the less the one who is dressed most modestly. The following scene is light in spite of its pitiful subject, the soldiers are hungry and thirsty, Cyrano cabotine, occurs De Guiche who sends by spite all the regiment to the death. The effects of the battle are suggested by a beatboxer punctuating the tirades with dry sounds imitating cannons and grape shot. After a strange chaos where all run in all directions, appear Ragueneau and Roxanne, unconscious of the danger. The reaction of Christian is virulent, he does not want Roxanne on a battlefield, Roxanne does not hesitate to shot harch words to him. She came for him though, for him and especially for his letters. Cyrano informs her that her husband will soon be sent to death. She screams and throws herself on De Guiche. Cyrano has only time to grasp her to the waist to prevent the scandal. In the next scene, strangely disembodied, Roxanne covers Christian, whom she believes is the author of a passionate correspondence, of compliments like an enamored teenager, even reciting to him the text of the letters she has learned by heart. Christian locks himself away from her, he is very close to shed tears when she confesses to him that it is these words of which she is in love and that she could well love him even if he was disfigured. He knows he has lost. He know that Cyrano has won. It’s Cyrano who has wrote the letters.

He finds an excuse for her to go to the back of the stage. He grabbed Cyrano who until that moment had remained very much in the background like a kid who knows he made a big mistake. One can believe for a moment that their exchange will be violent, Christian is desperate, he has every reason to blame Cyrano. He spits at first how much Cyrano has exceeded his role, how much he hated him for that. But Cyrano does not seek confrontation, he looks down, apologizes, he does not want to believe for a moment that Roxanne can love someone other than Christian. He sits the young man, who has become more lost than angry. Cyrano repeats to Christian again and again than he wants only his happiness. Christian searches for his words, he gets confused, he listens, he gets closer, he confesses that he is lost. He is getting closer to Cyrano, very close. Tension escalates. "Is there a version of this life where two men can live as one?" asks Christian. Cyrano is mute, helpless. Christian kisses him. And in the theater we are all paralyzed. It’s incredible. It's an almost shy kiss that Cyrano does not reciprocate. Not immediately. Because this first hesitant kiss is followed by a second more willing, more passionate. A strange and carnal shiver runs through the theater. We hold our breath. For a split second it's a shared kiss and the two men are alone in their world. But Roxanne appears on stage from the top of the stairs and the two lovers push back violently as if they had been electrocuted. The action rushes. Still in shock, we have trouble following the sequence. A battle, the lights go out, only the voices of Roxanne and Cyrano remain. They are on each side of the stage, standing in the shadows. In the center Christian is cut by a white light, the voices are disputed, it’s  the death of Christian. The dead soldiers snatch their mic’. Everything goes black.

Last act. The principle of chairs facing the public is resumed. Only oddity, Christian, mutique and sitting cross-legged, stands on the stage. Weird spectrum that fixes us with his round eyes. Troubling ghost that comes to haunt the survivors. Two secondary characters interact. They say thus Roxanne has become an independent woman who lives alone, Cyrano comes to see her every day, as a friend. Cyrano was attacked this morning, it seems: a knife stab, someone would have seen in the hospital. The two characters disappear and give way to the two main protagonists who come to sit in the center. Christian, frozen in his position as a mute kid, is between them. Roxanne still precious and unconscious mocking shamelessly Cyrano's delay, she teases him suggesting that he spent the night in the arms of a woman. To make her laugh, he tells her in raw terms that yes. He has brought her a book he has just published, and she offers with a certain cruel irony that he can wrote a dedication on it. Cyrano’s eyes look strangely bright, tight in a jacket closed to the collar, he stands a little curled, he seems hurt on the left side. But doesn’t that. He takes with good graces the jokes of the young woman. The subject turns suddenly about Christian's letters. Cyrano asks to read them. She refuses. He asks again. His voice is supplicating. She accepts. No paper is exchanged between them, it is the microphone that passes from hand to hand. But before he had time to read that famous last letter. He tells her everything, in a desperate tone. "Roxanne I am the author of all these letters". She does not believe it.

She almost gets upset. To prove her, he tells her the beginning of the last letter. But she’s straightforward and this reaction is all the more shocking that Cyrano is in tears and has just put his heart at her feet. But she makes her pride speak, she gets up, she’s angry. He's a liar, she says, he played with her, she says. He, mad with pain and probably in agony, begins to beg her to forgive him. She has this terrible and pitifully contemporary phrase "ok so what now?" The mood changes dramatically. The words become softer, the tone turns, they are seated again, their faces are closer, they whisper words drowned in tears and forehead to forehead are ready to kiss. Will there be a happy ending to this play? It is without counting the intervention of De Guiche come to stop Cyrano ! But Cyrano faints, he collapses of his chair and falls in the arms of Roxanne. We discover that he is dying. As in the original text, he has a jump of lucidity, leaps to his feet and begins to tell a funny story about two men in love with the same woman who meet a mocking bartender. Cyrano is dying, he loses his strength and repeats the same sentence as a broken puppet but he remains up. He drops his microphone, we understand that he is dead. When the scene ends and the play with it, we do not really know what this strange conclusion means. Whatever audience is standing, it's a thunder of applause and bravo. What’s a awesome moment of art !

[mymelodyheart]

Highland Destiny Chapter 6 ~Scotch & Rye, Truth or Lies~

James Fraser was looking out his office window when Laoghaire MacKenzie walked in.

"A penny for your thoughts?" she said as she came forward to hand him a cup of coffee.

Jamie turned around looking at his watch, momentarily perplexed. "Oh, good morning, thanks." He took a sip of his hot drink and decided he didn't like the taste. "Is it 8 o'clock already?" He was so deep in his thoughts that he hardly heard her come in.

"Aye. Ye're here early. Making up for some lost work hours yesterday?"

He placed the coffee on his desk and started to shuffle some papers. "I was busy somewhere else."

"I'm sure ye were. I tried to call ye several times, but ye wouldna answer. And ye were no' in the gym. We tried the station and Murtagh said ye left with a Sassenach lassie," she revealed as she sat daintily at the edge of the desk.

Jamie didn't respond. She slid on the desk to face him. "So tell me about the lassie? Is she pretty?" she asked, cocking her brow.

Before he could answer, there was a knock on the door. "I thought it was office hours. Am I disturbing something?" came a mocking voice.

Laoghaire immediately jumped off the desk and was about to admonish the intruder when Jamie waved her to go.

"Tommy! What can I do for you?" Jamie gestured for him to a seat.

Tom Christie walked in, but he didn't bother to sit down.

"Fraser, I'll get to the point. I dinna ken what ye're up tae with the Beauchamp lassie, but I'm here to give ye a word of caution. Treat her right. She's no' like the lassies ye're typically after. If ye plan to fuck her 'bout, here's news for ye...there's plenty more in the sea ye can do that tae. I'm sure ye'll have no bother finding one. Her best mate Joe works in the Infirmary, and I know him. He has only got good words about her. Treat her right Fraser, don't mess her 'bout."

Jamie listened, his face impassive waiting for Tom to finish his diatribe. "Anything else, Tommy?"

"Yes...fuck ye, James Fraser, fuck ye!" Then Tom Christie left the office almost bumping into an eavesdropping Laoghaire.

Not long after Tom Christie left, James Fraser gathered his keys and sports bag and headed out, and stopping by Laoghaire's desk, he said, "I'm out for today. If there are any problems, go see Rupert."

..........

Claire Beauchamp was awoken by a sound of door closing. She raised her head and looked around grimacing as a wave of sharp pain in the head engulfed her, not to mention the throbbing, dull ache between her thighs. She was parched, and her mouth felt like cotton wool. As she adjusted her eyes to the morning light, memories from the previous night came flooding back. She groaned.  Oh, bleeding, pickles!

Despite having a massive hangover, she remembered everything that happened, and her face heated simultaneously at the thought. After Jamie had taken her to bed, she had fallen asleep immediately curled up in his arms to the sound of his Gaelic mutterings. Sometime during the night, they made love twice more. Jamie was insatiable, and even in her drunken stupor, he was able to rouse her, and she responded with unbridled passion.

She compared Frank's and Jamie's lovemaking. While Frank was skilled, sophisticated and refined in the art of love, Jamie was more primal, uninhibited and hedonistic. At this thought, Claire shook her head at the comparison, scolding herself for doing so.  But where is Jamie?   She looked around for a note, and she found none. She slapped her head and thought,  Bloomin' heck, I'm such a damn fool.

Then her bedroom door opened, and Jamie's head popped in. "Sassenach, are ye awake?" 

"Oh! I heard the door closed and I thought you left." Embarrassed, Claire slid under the duvet and pulled the covers up to her neck.

He smiled. "I was out and took ye're keys with me so I can let myself in. May I come in?" He held up a brown paper bag. "I have something for ye."

"Oh! Yes, do come in. I mean, of course, you may. Don't be daft." She patted the bed beside her. "So what's in the bag?" Claire noticed he had changed into fresh clothes and wondered if he had been home. Admiring the sight of him, she thought he looked handsome in his black turtle-neck and black jeans. She touched her hair absently.   Oh Christ, I probably look like a poodle.

Jamie walked over and leaned down to kiss her lingeringly on the lips. As he pulled away slightly, he stared into her eyes for a moment with his intense blue before breaking into a smile. "Good morning Sassenach," he said softly.

"Oh...good morning. Good lord, are you always this chipper in the morning?"

"Mmm, not always depends on the company." He blinked his eyes as though he was winking. He reminded Claire of a sizeable red owl.

He sat on the side of the bed, brought out his offerings and placed them on the bedside table. There were coffees, bottled waters, a couple of croissants and a miniature bottle of Frisealach Whisky. 

"Jamie, you can't be serious!" she exclaimed after seeing the whisky.

"It's called the hair of the dog." He poured the alcohol into the coffee and handed into Claire. "Here, Sassenach drink this. It will get rid of your hangover."

"Don't you think paracetamol would do the trick?" She asked as she eyed the cup dubiously, pulling the bed cover higher above her breast.  

"Trust me Sassenach, this will help."

"Alright then but first, can you please hand over my robe so I can sit up properly."

Jamie grinned. "What do ye need the robe for? Ye look fine the way ye are." Attempting to pull down the sheet from her grasp, he added, "Besides, I've seen them before, Sassenach, and I think they're awesome."

Blushing, she ignored the remark and pulled the bedding higher. "Here, give me the coffee." Taking the cup from Jamie, she took a sip of the hot liquid and smiled. "Mmmm, it's not bad at all. And I'll have a croissant too, please." She realised she was starving.

Jamie handed the croissant and held her coffee while she ate. "So, how are ye feeling?" It amused him that Claire didn't realise the sides of her mouth was covered in pastry flakes and was astonished at how quick she wolfed it down.

"Oh, God, I must look terrible," she started in between big bites. "I woke up feeling like I have been run over by a truck!" Realising what she just said, her face turned crimson. "Oh, no...I don't mean you!" Mortified, her face turned into a darker shade of crimson. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! What I meant to say is, it was the whisky... my head was pounding when I woke up. But this...," she raised the coffee cup, "...you are right. I feel slightly better. And that croissant was heaven." Eyeing the other croissant, she added, "Are you having that?" 

Jamie laughed, handing her another. "I've never seen a woman eat with sae much gusto. I like that. And ye don't look terrible at all...ye look even more beautiful in the morning."

"Hmmm...I didn't realise I was so hungry until I drank...what do you call it again...the hair of the dog? And as for your comment on the way I look, I think you are still intoxicated. Mmmm, this is so good," she said, taking a big bite of the pastry.

"No, I'm not intoxicated at all, Sassenach. I went for a run early this morning. I must have sweated the alcohol off, I suppose. And then I went to work to sort out some papers, and now I'm here."

"Good lord, did you sleep at all?"

Grinning, he replied, "Nah, you wouldna let me sleep." 

Claire coughed in between a mouthful of croissant and coffee, sputtering, she asked, "So what exactly do you do? You never mentioned your day job before."

Jamie cleared his throat, "I work in the administration for Frisealach; hence, I was able to smuggle the whiskies last night." Changing the subject quickly, he offered the second cup of coffee to her.

She shook her head. "No thanks, that'll do."

"Feeling better?"

She nodded, smiling. "Much better."

Jamie chuckled, as he watched her down the last of her coffee and took a swig from the bottled water. "Wow, that was quick! Now it's my turn." He stood up abruptly, making Claire jump.

"Your turn for wot?"

He grinned at her. "My turn for breakfast."

"Oh!" She looked at the empty paper bag. "Sorry, I ate your share. Here, I'll go check in the kitchen..." Before Claire could get out of bed, Jamie had taken his top off already and thrown it on the floor. "Wot!? Jamie, what in heaven's name are you doing?" To her embarrassment, she saw several bite marks on his chest and neck as he took off his shirt.  No bloody wonder he was wearing a turtle neck!

Pulling down his jeans and boxer shorts, he announced, "I'm ravenous. I want my breakfast."

"Jamie, you're crazy!" Her eyes widened when Jamie discarded the last of his clothing. Seeing him stark naked in daylight was something else. He looked like a statue of some Norse Viking that came alive and was ready to claim his plunder. Her eyes travelled down to his lower torso and rested on his growing arousal, making the corpuscles in her vein run riot.   O'Hail Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners.

"And ye Sassenach, ye look delicious enough to eat," he said grinning. He got into bed and yanked the cover off she held securely around her, making her yelp.

"Oh no, you don't, I still feel sore from last night!" She was trying to reach out for the last vestige of her modesty, but he wouldn't let her.

"Aye? I promise to be verra gentle, and I promise to make it better," he coaxed, coming closer and grabbing her by the hips. Noticing her eyes were on the bite marks on his shoulder, he added, "And ye can bite me some more, ye vixen..."

"Jamie!" He was licking off the pastry flakes on the sides of her mouth as he gently pushed her on to her back.  Oh lordy, lordy!   

"Mmmm, ye taste yum, Sassenach." he murmured, smiling as he traced the outline of her lips with his tongue while his thumb did the same on her nipples. Then he raised his head and shifted to his side to glance at her naked body. "Mouthwatering, scrumptious, luscious, yum, " he whispered before lowering his head for a kiss.

She made unintelligible sounds as her fingers dug into his shoulders. "Jamie!"

His lips travelled down her throat as one hand slipped under her arse for a fondle. "Hmmm? Tell me, Sassenach, where is it sore, and I'll kiss it better for ye," he whispered.

Claire didn't say another word as she wrapped her arms around Jamie's neck and did some tasting of her own.  You taste yummy too, carrot top!

..........

Lying together afterwards, basking in the glow of the aftermath of their lovemaking, Jamie cradled Claire's head on his chest. "Sassenach?"

"Mmmm?" Her fingers were doing an exploration of their own on his abdomen.

"I meant to tell ye, ye were wonderful last night."

She smiled. "Me or the sex?"

He turned to face her, smoothing the curls behind her ears. "Sex was mind-blowing, but that's no what I meant. What I was meaning to say is, I had a fabulous time, truly. Ye made me laugh, and ye're truly a wonder. I've never met anyone like ye. Did ye enjoy it too, Mo Nighean Donn?"

"Yes, Jamie, I did. What is Mo Nighean Donn?"

"It means my brown-haired lass." He raised one of her locks and twisted it around it in his fingers. After a long pause, he continued. "It's true I had other women before ye, but with ye it's different. Even after I've just left you shortly this morning after making love, all I can think of is coming back to you."

Claire tried not to laugh, but she could hardly stifle a giggle. "Jaime, that's lust. It means you're a very horny laddie."

He chuckled. "Och Sassenach, I'm finding it challenging already to find the right words and here ye are mocking me. What I'm trying to say is, I've never wanted a woman as much as I wanted ye. When I first laid eyes on ye, I knew I wanted ye. Do ye think that's usual?

After giving it much thought, she answered. "I don't know. Maybe it is or perhaps not. But what I can tell you is this, I've never done this before. Yes, I've been on dates before I met my husband, and after my husband died but I've never slept with anyone on the first date. And last night wasn't really a date was it? And even if it was, then you're the first I've slept with on the first date."

Jaime's arms tightened around her. " Hmm...I dinna like it one bit when ye talk of other men before me."

"Well, you started it! You did mention there were other women before me." She pinched him on the arm.

"Let's forget about it then, Sassenach but whatever this is, I would verra much like to happen again."

"What do you think this is Jaime? Us...now?"

"I dinna ken, but I intend to find out." Jaime lifted Claire on top of him and made love to her all over again,

..........

The next three days went by in a blur. Work was hectic, but Claire enjoyed her new role in the world of medical service. Although it was not Neuroscience, the novelty of being in a different environment that didn't resemble a hospital ward was exhilarating. She quickly made new friends and have grown accustomed to her colleagues' humour and constant banter.  Boys will be boys , after all, she often thought. She learned, to her astonishment that Murtagh was Jaime's god-father, and soon found out that behind the grumpy, cantankerous exterior, he was really a softy at heart. The boys at work often teased him about finding a woman to soften his bearing, to which he would reply with a scowl.

And as for Jaimie, he was a continuous presence that hovered ever since. He was attentive, thoughtful and caring as expected of any normal boyfriend. Whether he was really her boyfriend or not, the subject was never broached. He insisted taking her to and picking her up from work every day, even when her car was returned. He practically lived in the cottage and stayed every night, often cooking for them both when he finished work. Claire sometimes wondered what exactly they were as they never made a public display of their relationship. The longest and only serious relationship she ever had was with Frank, so Claire felt like a novice when it came to the matter of the heart. With so many things occurring, there was little time to ponder. It was less than a week since she arrived, but Claire felt so much have happened already in such a short period of time. It felt like she was caught in some whirlwind that wouldn't let up.

Friday night came, and she met up with Geillis in the Scotch & Rye Pub. It was her first night without Jamie, and although they've only known each other less than a week, it felt odd not to be with him. Nevertheless, it was a welcome change and a chance to enjoy the local culture. 

Instead of waiting for Jamie to drop her off in town, she left with a cab before he could arrive at the cottage, leaving him a note, "See you later."

Geillis and Claire were sat at the bar, enjoying a dinner of Fish & Chips, and after a couple of wine and general chit-chat, Geillis finally blurted the question Claire was dreading and expecting.

"So tell me...ye were wi' a laddie the night ah first called ye. What was that all about? Don't ye dare deny it, Claire Beauchamp, ah ken ye! And ye didne call the followin' day either which was highly unusual. It must hae been a good night."

Claire laughed. "Oh God Geillis, I knew this question will eventually pop up. I suppose there's no avoiding it." She paused and took a deep breath. "Well, there is a lad, of course. His name is Jamie. We met on Monday, we made love that night, and he's basically been...well... sort of living under my roof since then."

Geillis eyes widened, and her hand went to her mouth, "Och Claire...ye bloody tart! It must hae somethin' tae dae with the highland air. The Claire ah ken would hae never dain such a thing."

They were both laughing. 

"Oh God! I know, it's just that one thing led to another. What can I say? "

"The laddie must be bonnie for ye tae jump in the sack wi' him on the first night. So what is he like an' what does he dae?"

"Well, he is bonnie for sure and incredibly sexy." Claire blushed profusely much to her friend's amusement. "He's kind, charming, a notorious flirt, well at least with me. I do wonder if he flirts with other girls. As for his job, he is quite evasive about it. To be honest, we're still in the getting-to-know-each-other phase...well with sex thrown in, of course."

Geillis cheek dimpled. "Weel, Claire, you're nae slack in the looks department sae don't sell yerself short. The laddie must be smitten wi' ye. Look at ye, you're only dressed in jeans an' jumper tonight, nae a smidgen of makeup an' every laddie was lookin' at ye when ye walked in." With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she added, "As for sex, it must be good, eh? Ah thought somethin' was different about ye. At first, ah thought it must be the highland air. It must hae to dae with all the sex you're gettin'. Ah ken the look of lassie that's been weel bedded."

"Oh good God, am I going to get this all evening with you. Geillis Duncan, you are one impossible woman!"

As they sat there giggling, a party of twenty people walked in. A few from the group stopped by to chat with Geillis, and as she was making introductions, Claire heard Jamie's voice from behind her. "Sassenach, I thought it was you." As she turned around, she was met with a resounding kiss on the cheek.

"Jamie, what a pleasant surprise. Sorry, I left before you could arrive...I knew you were at work and I took a cab in case I have a bit too much to drink. What are you doing here?"

"Och don't worry Sassenach. I'm with people from work," he pointed with his thumb to the group of people pushing tables together at the back. Then he looked past Claire. "Geillis! I had no idea that you're friends with Claire. How are ye?" Jamie leaned to her for a hug.

Geillis raised her eyebrows at Claire and grinned. Turning to Jamie, she said, "Weel, weel look at we hae here, it's the wee fox cub. 'Am daein' great an' how about ye? Ay 'course, ye wouldnae hae known am friends wi' Claire...both of ye met only recently." She winked, her cheeks dimpling.

"Oh, you know each other," said Claire somewhat confuse.

"Aye Sassenach, her parents are neighbours with my Uncle Dougal and Aunt Maura from Leoch. As a young lad, I spent my summers with them learning how to ride a horse and taking care of the stables. And Geillis was a proper witch then...she used to throw apples at us and do all sorts of mad stuff to annoy my cousins and me."

Geillis laughed heartily at the memory. "Och, Ah was only causin' some stramash so Jamie's uncle Douggie would come out. Ah used tae fancy the pants off him. He was one big, right lookin' laddie...just like our Jamie here."

"Oh yes, I remember Leoch. I came with you once for Easter weekend." Claire added, looking at Geillis. " So, Jamie, are you joining us?"

"No, I'll let ye girls catch up. I will be over there with the lads." Turning to Claire, he whispered, "See you later?" She nodded.

He left a few pound notes on the bar and signalled the bartender a round of drinks for the girls.

Claire looked over to the table where Jamie headed to. The lads he mentioned included a few lassies.  They must all be from work , she thought.

After Jamie left, Geillis gave her a wide-eyed look and slapped Claire on the hand. "Claire! So that's the Jamie - The Jamie Fraser! Ye never mentioned Fraser. Ye clever boots! Every hen must hate ye now for baggin' the most eligible bachelor in the country."

"Wot? I don't know what you're talking about?"

"What dae ye mean ye don't ken what am talkin' about? Don't ye ken who you're sleepin' wi'?? Christ Claire, don't ye read the news?"

Claire shook her head. "Bloody hell Geillis, out with it for fuck sake. No, I don't know what you're talking about! Who is Jamie Fraser?"

"Oh my God, ye really don't ken. The man ye're sleepin' wi' is James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser. He is a business magnate. He owns Frisealach Distellery, My Peak Gym franchise, several horse ridin' schools across the highlands an' he bought his uncle Jared's vineyard in France not tae long ago," Geillis explained in an exasperated tone.

"James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser? I know the name. I know Frisealach, but I thought the owner was an old man. Oh, why do you think he didn't tell me? Not that it would have mattered. I knew he was a part-time firefighter and had a day job at Frisealach. I mean I like him and what he does for a living is irrelevant." Claire was rambling at this point, trying to remember the little details of their short time together. Then she remembered how he never liked to talk about his job. He always spoke of other things but not what he did for a living. 

"Claire, pet, he must hae a good reason. Mebbe he didne tell ye coz he thought ye might treat him differently. Besides, ye said sae yerself, you're still gettin' tae ken each other. Am sure he would tell ye eventually. Ah think Jamie more than likes ye, Claire. He keeps lookin' our way. Sae 'that must mean somethin'. Dae ye hae feelings fur him?"

Claire looked at the mirror on the bar wall, and she can see the reflection of the group Jamie came with. And she also saw a beautiful girl leaning towards him, but he seemed oblivious. When she saw Jamie glanced toward them, she quickly averted her eyes.

"I don't know Geillis. Everything is happening so fast. Ever since I've arrived, it's just one thing after another. The fire at St. Agnes, for instance, then Jamie...to be honest, I haven't had time to even think what I really feel. Sure Jamie is great, and sex is....well that's just another whole different category. Just don't mention to Jaimie I know, ok? I suppose he will tell me on his own time" Claire paused deep in thoughts and after a moment, she said. "Listen, I'll be right back, I need to go to the loo."

"Ye alright, Claire?"

"Yeah, I'm good." She smiled at her friend as an assurance. "It's not every day you find out you're sleeping with a millionaire."

Claire stood up and headed for the toilet, unaware of the many stares that followed her.

.........

Claire looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed from the wine she drank and perhaps from the body heats emanating from the pub. She took big deep breaths and took out a lip balm from her handbag.

"Ye must be the Sassenach everyone is talking about."

Claire looked up to the mirror and saw a pretty girl standing next to her. She had beautiful long blonde hair and wore a grey suit that was probably one size too small for her and had plenty of makeup on.

"Oh, really? I wouldn't know," she said as she applied lip balm on her chapped lips while watching the girl put on a thick lashing of red lipstick.

"I saw Jamie talking to ye. You must ken him well."

"And what is it to you?"

Laoghaire was stunned for a moment. She didn't quite know how to take the Sassenach.

"Weel what I mean to say is, whatever he has for ye, it will pass. He and I go a long way back. Ye're just a Sassenach here...ye're new, so everyone is bound to be intrigued, including Jamie. So don't get yer hopes up."

Claire turned to face the girl. "Umm...what is your name again?"

"Laoghaire." She replied, her red lips breaking into a menacing smile.

"Laoghaire...beautiful name Laoghaire." Smiling sweetly, Claire extended her hand. "I'm Claire. Dr Claire Beauchamp. As a doctor, I have a moral obligation to diagnose and treat patients if I see fit. From my point of observation, I think you might have a debilitating condition. I understand that I may not be your cup of tea but please, allow me to impart to you that I can see something is wrong here. At first glance, my prognosis is, you need to have your head examined." Claire paused, making waving motions in the direction of the girl's head. "I might have an idea what might be inflicting you, but I don't want to get ahead of myself. But if I am right, don't worry, your condition isn't contagious...it's a disease that's usually inherent to a person. If this symptom you have now continues to persist..." Claire took out a card from her handbag and placed in front of Laoghaire. "... please give me a call, and I'll see what I can do. Meanwhile, I am off duty, so I wish you a lovely evening." 

With that, Claire turned around, leaving an open-mouthed Laoghaire staring after her.

Eat my shorts, blondie, or stuff it where the sun doesn't shine!

[isitgintimeyet]

The Ties That Bind

AO3

Previous

Thanks for reading so far. This is the penultimate chapter in the story.

Thanks for @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta and support.

Wee bit of angst... at first

Chapter 31: A Legal Precedent

Professor Callahan : Would you rather have a client who committed a crime malum in se or malum prohibitum?

Elle: Neither.

Professor Callahan: And why’s that?

Elle: I would rather have a client who’s innocent.

Legally Blonde

Jamie said nothing as Isobel drove them across the city to Geneva’s house. He sat still, his jaw clenched in tension, hands splayed on his knees. Isobel did not try to start any conversations. She wasn’t really sure what she could say anyway… nor what she should say to her mother and Geneva, especially if they expected her to ‘choose a side’.

Contemplating the situation, she felt that her best role would be to try to provide a calming and objective influence, much as she did with her students when dealing with hormone-fuelled teenage arguments.

Jamie was also contemplating the situation, but was not as clear as Isobel on his best role. His instinct was to go in all guns blazing, ready to shout and swear at Geneva and her mother, demanding that he be legally recognised as William’s father. He knew, however, that threats and demands would not help here, and could potentially harm his case, should it end up in court.

But there was also a sadness. He had believed that Geneva and her mother would stop the game-playing once William had arrived, that they would understand there were no winners or losers, just everyone wanting the best for the baby. And now, realising that his trust that they would  ‘do the right thing’ had been totally misplaced, he was hurt and, being honest, was annoyed with himself and his naïveté. He had assumed everybody possessed a vein of decency, no matter how deeply hidden. John had tried to counsel him, to get him to seek advice, but he had been sure it would all work out, that there was no need to involve lawyers. And now he was paying the price.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply as Isobel pulled up outside Geneva’s house. Unfolding himself from the confines of Isobel’s Fiat 500, he quickly strode up to the door and pressed the bell. A murmur of voices floated out from the other side of the door before it was opened by Louisa. Geneva was nowhere in sight.

“Jamie.” Louisa acknowledged his presence sternly.

“Louisa, can I come in? I dinna think we want tae be havin’ this conversation in the street.”

Reluctantly, she stepped aside to allow entry into the hallway, but no further.

“I think I made our… that is, Geneva’s position clear over the phone...” Louisa began, before noticing Isobel standing behind Jamie. “Isobel, what are you doing here?”

“I went round to see how Jamie was doing after your, er, news this morning. You can’t expect him not to be affected by it, so I wanted to check he was ok.”

“He was ok? Ok?” Louisa’s voice began to climb in pitch. “It’s not him you should be worried about. He had his chances, plenty of them. Both before and after William’s birth. A father should support his child and the mother. If he can’t, or won’t do that, then he’s no right to be called a father. It’s about honour and decency.”

Jamie had remained silent throughout Louisa’s diatribe, but could no longer hold his tongue.

“God, how can ye talk about decency tae me? I have been nothin’ but decent throughout these months. I’ve treated Geneva with respect, even wi’ the games she’s been playin’. She told me and ma friends that the bairn is mine. So now, what is she sayin’? I’m no’ the father? And that makes her, what? A liar and a fr...” Jamie quickly stopped himself from telling Louisa what he really thought of her daughter. This was not the time or the place.

“That’s right, Mummy. She said that to me too. She can’t just change her mind because it’s not gone the way she hoped!”

Louisa turned angrily to her daughter. “How dare you stick up for him? Where’s your support for your sister? Do you not want her to be happy?”

Isobel opened her mouth to respond as a baby’s cry cut through the air.  

Jamie reached his hands out to Louisa, tears filling his eyes. “Please, Louisa, that’s ma babe, let me see him. Ye canna keep me from him. Let me through.”

Louisa remained motionless, her face like stone.

“Geneva!” Jamie yelled. “Come out here. Let me talk tae ye. Let’s clear this up. Geneva… Geneva!”

Gradually, William’s cries died away. Geneva remained out of sight. Jamie slumped against the wall, not knowing what to say.

Louisa broke the silence. “I think you should go.”

Isobel took his arm. “Come on, Jamie, I’ll see you home.”

Jamie passively let Isobel lead him away. Just outside the house, he paused and turned back to Louisa, framed in the doorway.

He spoke quietly, his eyes blazing, his voice cold with fury. “William is ma son. We all ken that. Geneva has been tryin’ to play me fer months but tae resort tae this… blackmail is what it is. Well, I hope ye’re proud of yer daughter. Ye talk about honour and decency, but the two of ye dinna even ken what the words mean. If ye did ye wouldna even think about depriving that bairn of his father jes’ out of spite. And this isna the end of it, Louisa, I mean it. Get a lawyer. I’ll go tae court if I have tae. What lies will the pair of ye tell under oath, eh?”

*************

Once Isobel and Jamie had left, Claire drifted aimlessly from room to room unable to settle, her mind whirring with all the possible scenarios that could be playing out over at Geneva’s. She was thankful that Isobel was with Jamie, providing a calming influence and hopefully preventing him from doing, or saying, something he would regret.

She opened the door to the recently decorated nursery. It was all there, just waiting for an occupant. The pale wood cot, the matching changing station and wardrobe, and the rocking chair in the corner all stood barren and unused. The set of twinkling fairy lights she had bought that week were still unopened in their packaging. Who knew when that would change now? She sat down on the floor, leaning against the cot’s bars and wept.

The tears were not for herself, as she had not had the opportunity to meet William, to form any bond with him. No, the tears were for Jamie and for William. Jamie had had several months of anticipation, readying himself to be a father, only to have that snatched away from him. And William, unaware though he was, was losing a parent.

Drying her eyes, Claire switched into her practical mode. If they had to go to court, they would. John would give them details of a suitable lawyer and they would win. Surely no Sheriff court would decide in favour of that bitch and her mother.

But until Jamie returned, she needed something to occupy her mind. She suddenly remembered the half stripped bed, and then planned to clean the bathroom.

********

Finally, after thoroughly cleaning the bathroom followed by a much-needed shower, Claire heard Jamie’s key in the front door. She rushed downstairs to meet him. Jamie sat on the bottom step, his face tired and drawn.

“I couldna see him, Claire. I heard him greetin’ but Louisa wouldna let me near him. Geneva didna show herself either. I hope that's due tae shame, but I am no’ holdin’ ma breath on that.”

Claire sat on the step above him. He leant back between her legs and looked up into her eyes, searching for comfort. She stroked his face, her hands gently trying to sooth.

“I’m goin’ tae ring John. He’ll ken what tae do, won’t he, Claire? It’s goin’ tae be alright, isn’t it? It has tae be.”

She brought her face close to his, her curls, still damp from the shower, falling onto his cheeks.

“Of course,” she replied, forcing a bright smile. “It will all work out, you’ll see.”

************

The floor to ceiling windows of the ultra-modern city centre office block afforded magnificent views across the city. However, the spectacle usually went unnoticed by those waiting in the chrome and glass reception area - they tended to be more preoccupied with the legal issues that were about to be discussed (and also the bill that would no doubt swiftly follow).

Jamie and Claire were no exceptions to this, and John took no interest either, having looked upon that view many times before. The three sat together, Jamie in the middle. Claire’s hand rested reassuringly on Jamie’s constantly jiggling knee. Only the chewing of her lower lip gave an indication of her nervousness.

John broke the silence. “You know I’m here as your friend, Jamie. The only lawyer charging his usual hourly rate will be Ned. Don’t be misled by the way he looks, by the way. He’s one of the best in family law. He can be an absolute arse when he needs to be, scares the shit out of other lawyers too.”

“Mr. Fraser? Mr. Gowan will see you now.”

John led the way into a large office dominated by a wall of floor to ceiling windows. The furniture was a light wood throughout. One corner of the office housed a black leather sofa next to a bookshelf full of children’s games. The whole room was bright, airy, and modern.

John warmly greeted the human anachronism seated behind the desk. “Ned, good to see you again. How are you?”

“John, man, I’m champion.” Ned moved from behind his desk to shake Jamie and Claire’s hands.  

A small man, he was dressed in a three piece tweed suit in earthy greens and browns, with a green paisley bow tie. A pocket watch chain dangled across the waistcoat. He in no way resembled a serious lawyer commanding an eye-watering hourly fee, but appeared more of an Edwardian gentleman ready for a spot of shooting or deer stalking across the Scottish moors.

“Mr. Fraser, I’m Ned Gowan, and ye are…?” He addressed Claire.

“I’m Claire Beauchamp, Mr. Gowan”. Claire held out her hand to him.

“Claire is ma girlfriend,” Jamie interjected. “She’s here fer a wee bit o’ moral support, as is John.”

He thought for a moment, then hurriedly carried on talking. “But she wasna ma girlfriend when all this started. That was afore I met her, ye ken.”

Ned smiled politely. “Och, Mr. Fraser, I’m no’ here tae pass judgement on ye or yer choices. Jes’ to sort out any, er, inconveniences from the choices ye may have made.”

Ned returned to his chair and motioned for the others to sit. Ignoring the large computer screen perched on his desk, he rifled through a stack of folders before selecting one and opening it.

“Now, John here has given me, wi’ yer permission, the background tae this, er, situation, but I do have a few questions I need tae ask ye before we agree the next steps. It may become a wee bit personal. I dinna ken if Miss Beauchamp will wish tae hear the details.”

“Thank you for your concern, Mr. Gowan, but I am fully aware of the details. I’ll stay if that’s ok.”

Ned nodded his assent and, unscrewing the cap of his fountain pen, began to make notes.  “Right so, a few questions, Mr. Fraser. Were you in a relationship with Miss Dunsany at the time of the child’s conception?”

“No’ at that time. We had been in a relationship the year before, but I… we… had finished a few months before the, er, conception.” Jamie was unsure how to answer the lawyer’s questions, but decided on a formal response.

“Mm hmm. But you did have sexual relations with Miss Dunsany around the time of the child’s conception?”

“Aye, we went out for a drink and I… slept wi’ her. But I decided it wouldna work between us and told her so. Then I had nae contact wi’ her until she told me about the bairn two months later.”

“So, at that time, you only had sexual relations once?”

Jamie blushed and studied his hands.

“I shall rephrase that question, Mr. Fraser. You had sexual relations with Miss Dunsany on only one occasion?”

“Aye.”

“And did you use any form of contraception?”

“Geneva, that is Miss Dunsany, told me that she was on the pill. I had nae reason tae doubt her as she’d been on the pill previously.”

“When she informed ye that she was pregnant, did she explicitly state that ye were the father?”

“Aye, she did. She told me straight that the bairn was mine. And she told our friends and her sister that same thing. I can gi’e ye names. I visited the hospital wi’ her.”

Ned finished writing and leant back in his chair. “Why do ye think she has no’ included ye on the birth certificate?”

“Geneva made it clear that she expected us tae become a couple again. When I told her that wouldna happen, she spent the next few months trying tae get us together and fer me and Claire tae break up. As ye can see, we are still together, so I think Geneva has done this tae spite me. She couldna get her own way, and, like a child, she is lashin’ out. Trying tae hurt me.”

“And what do ye want, Mr. Fraser? What are we workin’ towards here? Full custody o’ the child? Shared custody?”

“I want tae be on the birth certificate, I want parental responsibility. I’m no’ looking for full custody, jes’ a fair access tae ma son, wi’ agreed times fer him tae stay wi’ me.”

“A fair ask, Mr. Fraser. I will write tae Miss Dunsany’s lawyer and ask fer a meeting tae agree to a settling o’ this wi’out goin’ tae Sheriff’s court. If that meeting does no’ resolve this issue, we will make it clear that we are prepared tae go tae court, and that there are people willin’ tae testify that she acknowledged ye as the father. And we can remind her that denying this in court could lead tae a separate case against her fer perjury. The court can also demand a DNA test be carried out. But we hope it willna get that far.”

Claire sensed Jamie relax in his seat. She felt a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. There was light at the end of this tunnel.

Ned carried on talking. “Now, if ye are looking tae share the child’s upbringing, her lawyer will no doubt be askin’ for assurance about yer personal life and stability. Which is where ye come in, Miss Beauchamp.” He turned and spoke to Claire directly. “They will be askin’ questions about ye and yer relationship wi’ Mr. Fraser. Are ye currently co-habiting wi’ Mr. Fraser?”

“No…” Claire started to answer.

E“Aye,” Jamie interrupted. “Ye are. I mean it’s not official and ye still have yer flat, but we’re together more than we’re apart. We’ve spent months tiptoeing around Geneva, trying no’ tae upset her, but nae more. I want it tae be official. I ken this is no’ the most romantic place, but ye canna get more reliable witnesses, so what do ye say? I love ye, Sassenach and I ken ye love me. I’ve not planned this like this, but it’s been on ma mind fer months now. I have nae ring...”

Jamie took Claire’s hands in his and knelt beside her chair. “Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, I love ye, I ken I always will. Ye’ve been with me when it’s not always been easy for ye. Ye are the only one fer me and I want tae spend ma life wi’ ye. Truly, ye are more than I could have hoped for and I count ma blessings every day that ye are with me still. Sassenach… will ye marry me?”

Claire stared into Jamie’s deep blue eyes, so hopeful and focused only on her. She tried to speak, but somehow the words wouldn’t come.

“Come now, ma dear,” Ned said encouragingly. “Remember, ye’re still on ma time and I’m chargin’ by the hour.”

She felt the tears welling up in her eyes and spilling over onto her cheeks. “Oh, Jamie, yes. Yes I will.”

Jamie reached up and pulled her head down to him, laughing and kissed her tenderly, tasting the salty tears on her cheeks. She held him close, oblivious to Ned and John watching with some amusement, pleasure and perhaps just a hint of jealousy. Breathing in the scent of Jamie’s hair, a new sensation crept over her, a feeling of unbounded happiness and… home.

[luvneedsnosyt]

My Favorite Albums of 2019 (So Far)

Here is my list of my favorite albums half-way through 2019

You can find my list of my favorite albums of 2018 here And my list of my favorite EPs of 2018 here

My Monthly top albums lists from 2019: January, February, March, April, May

Honorable Mention:

Alice Merton - Mint Genre: Pop

Proof: No Roots / Lash Out

Anderson .Paak - Ventura Genre: Hip Hop / R&B

Proof: Chosen On (Feat. Sonya Elise) / Jet Black (Feat. Brandy)

Billie Eilish - WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO? Genre: Synth-Pop

Proof: bad guy / you should see me in a crown

blackbear - ANONYMOUS Genre: alt-R&B / Hip Hop

Proof: SWEAR TO GOOD / HIGH1X

Bring Me the Horizon - amo Genre: Rock / Alternative

Proof: in the dark / medicine

Cautious Clay - Table of Context EP Genre: R&B / Soul

Proof: REASONS / HONEST ENOUGH

Circa Waves - What’s It Like Over There? Genre: Alternative / Rock

Proof: Sorry I’m Yours / Be Somebody Good

Dabin - Wild Youth Genre: Electronic / Dance / Future Bass

Proof: In Flames (Feat. Lexi Norton) / Alive (Feat. RUNN)

Dawn Richard - New Breed Genre: alt-R&B / Electronic

Proof: shades / sauce

Dermot Kennedy - Dermot Kennedy Genre: Indie Pop / Soul

Proof: Power Over Me / Moments Passed

GoldLink - Diaspora Genre: Hip Hop / R&B

Proof: Zulu Screams (Feat. Maleek Berry & Babi Bourelly) / More

Hozier - Wasteland, Baby! Genre: Indie Pop / Soul / Folk

Proof: Movement / Dinner & Diatribes

James Blake - Assume Form Genre: Progressive Pop / Electronic / Indie Pop

Proof:  Barefoot in the Park (Feat. ROSALÍA) / Where’s the Catch? (Feat. André 3000)

Karen O & Danger Mouse - Lux Prima Genre: Alternative / Indie Rock

Proof: Turn the Light / Woman

Kevin Abstract - ARIZONA BABY Genre: Hip Hop

Proof: Joyride / Use Me

Maverick Sabre - When I Wake Up Genre: Pop / Soul

Proof: Slow Down (Feat. Jorja Smith) / Weakness

The List:

16. Little Simz - GREY Area Genre: Hip Hop

Proof: Offense / Boss / Venom / Pressure (Feat. Little Dragon)

15. Vampire Weekend - Father of the Bride Genre: Indie Rock / Alternative

Proof: Harmony Hall / This Life / How Long? / Sympathy

14. LÉON - LÉON Genre: Pop / Soul

Proof: Lost Time / Falling / Hope Is A Heartache / You And I // Bonus: Grey - Want You Back (Feat. LÉON)

13. Foals - Part 1: Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost Genre: Rock / Alternative

Proof: Exits / White Onions / In Degrees / On The Luna

12. Denzel Curry - ZUU Genre: Hip Hop

Proof: ZUU / RICKY / BIRDZ (Feat. Rick Ross) / CAROLMART (Feat. Ice Billion Berg)

11. G Flip - Drink Too Much EP Genre: Pop

Proof: Drink Too Much / Bring Me Home / Killing My Time / About You // Bonus: I Am Not Afraid

10. Elohim - BRAINDEAD EP Genre: Electronic / Synth Pop

Proof: running / tv / metamorphine / flagpole sitta (Harvey Danger cover w/ ALOWNATION)

9. Sigrid - Sucker Punch Genre: Pop

Proof: Sucker Punch / Basic / Don’t Feel Like Crying / Don’t Kill My Vibe // Bonus: Strangers (R3HAB Remix) / Don’t Kill My Vibe (Gryffin Remix)

8. Lizzo - Cuz I Love You Genre: Hip Hop / R&B

Proof: Cuz I Love You / Soulmate / Tempo (Feat. Feat. Missy Elliott) / Heaven Help Me

7. Seven Lions - Ophelia Volume 1 Genre: Electronic / Dance / Trance

Proof: Start Again (Feat. Fiora) / Ocean (w/ Jason Ross Feat. Jonathon Mendelsohn) / First Time (w/ SLANDER & Dabin Feat. Dylan Mathew) / Dreamin’ (Feat. Fiora) // Bonus: Ocean (Au5 Remix) w/ Jason Ross Feat. Jonothan Mendelson / Dreamin’ (Sunny Lax Remix) Feat. Fiora / Island (Dimibo Remix) (w/ Trivecta & Wooli Feat. Nevve) / Sojourn (w/ Crystal Skies) / Let Go (Festival Mix) Feat. Fiora

6. Maggie Rogers - Heard It In A Past Life Genre: Pop

Proof: Give A Little / The Knife / Alaska / Say It // Bonus: Give A Little (Mokita & GOLDHOUSE Remix) / Alaska (Toby Green Remix) / Alaska (Tycho Remix)

5. Nick Murphy - Run Fast Sleep Naked Genre: Indie Pop

Proof: Harry Takes Drugs On The Weekend / Sanity / Yeah I Care / Dangerous

4. Tyler, The Creator - IGOR Genre: Hip Hop / alt-R&B

Proof: IGOR’S THEME (Feat. Lil Uzi Vert) / EARFQUAKE (Feat. Playboy Carti, Charlie Wilson & Jessy Wilson)  / I THINK (Feat. Solange & Ryan Beatty) / WHAT’S GOOD (Feat. slowthai & Jarrod Carmichael)

3. Khalid - Free Spirit Genre: Pop / R&B / Soul

Proof: Better / Right Back / Outta My Head (w/ John Mayer) / Free Spirit // Bonus: Better (Jayvon Remix) / Better (no clue? Remix) / Talk (Disclosure VIP Mix) / Talk (Jarami Remix) / Talk (Alle Farben Remix)

2. Big Wild - Superdream // Superdream (Remixes) EP Genre: Electronic / Synth Pop / Dance

Proof: Joypunks / 6′ to 9′s (Feat. Rational) / No Words / She Makes Magic // Purple Sand (My Home) (pluko Remix) / City of Sound (Crooked Colours Remix) / Heaven (GG Magree Remix)

1. Nilüfer Yanya - Miss Universe Genre: Pop / R&B / Alterntaive

Proof: In Your Head / Paralysed / Tears / Heavyweight Champion Of The Year

Others:

Good: Adela - On The Line EP, AJ Tracey - AJ Tracey, Aldous Harding - Designer, Alesso - ALESSO MIXTAPE - PROGRESSO Vol. 1 EP, Alina Baraz - The Color Of You (Remixes) EP, Allie X - Super Sunset (Analog), Aly & AJ - Sanctuary EP, The Amazons - Future Dust, Anna Clendening - Waves EP, Ari Lennox - Shea Butter Baby, Anna Lunoe - Right Party EP, Ariana Grande - thank u, next, Ashe - Moral of the Story: Chapter 1 EP, Asiahn - Love Train 2, AURORA - A Different Kind of Human, Autograf - Love & Retrograde EP, Avicii - TIM, A1 - Turbulence, Bad Bunny - X 100PRE, Barrie - Happy to Be Here, Bassnector - Reflective (Part 4) EP, Bastille - Doom Days, BAYNK - Someone’s II EP, Beast Coast - Escape from New York, Beirut - Gallipoli , Better Oblivion Community Center - Better Oblivion Community Center, Betty Who - Betty, Big K.R.I.T. - TDT, Big Thief - U.F.O.F., Blaqk Audio - Only Things We Love, Blu & Oh No - A Long Red Hot Los Angeles Summer Night, Boy Harsher - Careful, Boogie - Everythings for Sale, B00TY - High Art EP, Brasstracks - Before We Go EP, Broken Social Scene - Let’s Try the After (Vol. 1) EP, Broken Social Scene - Let’s Try the After (Vol. 2) EP, Broods - Don’t Feed The Pop Monster, bülow - Crystalline EP, Bun B & Statik Selektah - TrillStatik [Mixtape], Cage The Elephant - Social Cues, Carlie Hanson - Junk EP, Carly Rae Jepsen - Dedicated, Casey Veggies - Organic, Casey Veggies & Rockie Fresh - Fresh Veggies [Mixtape], Cehryl - Slow Motion, Charly Bliss - Young Enough, Chase & Status - RTRN II JUNGLE, The Chemical Brothers - No Geography, Cherry Glazer - Stuffed & Ready, Choosey & Exile - Black Beans, Christelle Bofale - Swim Team EP, Chrome Sparks - Be On Fire EP, Ciara - Beauty Marks, Citizen Cope - Heroin and Helicopters, Clairmont The Second - The Second’s Do You Drive?, Collie Buddz - Hybrid. Crumb - Jinx, Crystal Fighters - Gaia & Friends, Curren$y & Statik Selektah - Gran Turismo, CZARFACE & Ghostface Killa - Czarface Meets Ghostface, David B - BLEU, Deadmau5 - Polar (Music from the Netflix Film), Deante’ Hitchcock - Just A Sample 2 EP, Deerhunter - Why Hasn’t Everything Already Disappeared?, DeJ Loaf - Go DeJ Go Vol. 1 EP, Delta Heavy - Only In My Dreams, Destiny Rogers - Tomboy EP, Devin Morrison - Bussin’, Dijon - Sci Fi 1 EP, Dinah Jane - Dinah Jane 1 EP, Diplo - Europa EP, Diplo - Higher Ground EP, DJ Khaled - Father of Asahd, Dog Blood - Turn Off The Lights EP, Dreezy - Big Dreez, The Drums - Brutalism, Dua Saleh - Nūr EP, DUCKWRTH - THE FALLING MAN, ELHAE - Trouble In Paradise, Emily Wells - The World Is Too ___ For You, Emotional Oranges - The Juice, Vol. I, Eric Bellinger - The Rebirth 2, Eryn Allen Kane - a tree planted by water EP, The Faint - Egowerk, FEELS - Post Earth, FIDLAR - Almost Free, flora cash - Press EP, Flume - Hi This Is Flume [Mixtape], Flying Lotus - Flamagra, Frances Cone - Late Riser, FRENSHIP - Vacation, Freya Riding - You Mean The World To Me EP, Froth - Duress, Gary Clark Jr. - This Land, Gesaffelstein - Hyperion, The Get Up Kids - Problems, Giggs - BIG BAD…, girlpool - What Chaos Is Imaginary, gnash - we, GRiZ - Find My Own Way EP, GRiZ - Ride Waves, Gryffin - Gravity Pt. 1 (Remixes) EP, GTA - La Nueva Clásica (Remixes), Gus Dapperton - Where Polly People Go to Read, HÆLOS - Any Random Kindness, The Hamiltones - Watch the Ton3s EP, Hayden James - Between Us, The Head and the Heart - Living Mirage, Helado Negro - This Is How You Smile, Hello Yello - Love Wins EP, Higher Brothers - Five Stars, Hikaru Utada - Face My Fears EP, Holly Herndon - PROTO, Ida Mae - Chasing Light, ilo ilo - wish i said this to u sooner EP, India.Arie - Worthy, Injury Reserve - Injury Reserve, Intellexual - Intellexual, Interpol - A Fine Mess EP, Izzy Bizu - GLITA EP, Jack & Jack - A Good Friend Is Nice, Jacob Latimore - Connection2, Jade Bird - I Get No Joy EP, Jade Bird - Jade Bird, Jaden - ERYS IS COMING EP, Jai Waetford - Figure It Out EP, Jai Wolf - The Cure To Loneliness, James Bay - One My Messy Mind EP, JAMESDAVIS - MASTERPIECE EP, Jamie Cullum - Taller, Jamila Woods - LEGACY! LEGACY!, The Japanese House - Good At Falling, Jasmine Thompson - colour EP, Jay Prince - WONDER EP, Jayda G - Significant Changes, Jean Deaux - Empathy EP, Jenny Lewis - On The Line, Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler - brent EP, jesse saint john - don’t stop dancing. life gets sad. EP, J-E-T-S - Zoospa, JOHN.k - if we never met EP, JOHNNYSWIM - Moonlight, JOHKOY - 404, Jonas Brothers - Happiness Begins, Jordan Rakei - Origin, Josephine Wiggs - We Fall, Judah & The Lion - Pep Talks, Juice WRLD - Death Race for Love, Julia Michaels - Inner Monologue, Pt. 1 EP, Kari Faux - CRY 4 HELP EP, Kasbo - Places We Don’t Know Remix EP, Kaskade - Redux 003, KÁRYYN - The Quanta Series, Kehlani - While We Wait EP, Kelsey Lu - Blood, Kerli - Shadow Works, Kevin Abstract - ARIZONA BABY EP, Kevin Abstract - Ghettoboy EP, Kevin Morby - Oh My God, KIAN - BLISS EP, Kiana Lede - Myself EP, Kishi Bashi - Omoiyari, Koffee - Rapture EP, Ladytron - Ladytron, Lafawndah - Ancestor Boy, Lemaitre - Fast Lovers EP, The Lemonheads - Varshons 2, Lexie Liu - 2030, Lil Skies - Shelby, Lissie - When I’m Alone: The Piano Retrospective, Local Natives - Violet Street, Logic - Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, Lolo Zouaï - High Highs to Low Lows, Loote - lost EP, Lonas - Youth EP, Lost Kings - Paper Crowns EP, Louis Futon - Way Back When, Loyle Carner - Not Waving, But Drowning, LSD - Labrinth, Sia & Diplo Presents… LSD, Lucky Daye - Painted, Lucy Rose - No Words Left, Mac DeMarco - Here Comes the Cowboy, Mack Keane - Donna Ave EP, Manila Killa - 1993 EP, Malibu Ken (Aesop Rock & TOBACCO) - Malibu Ken, Manatee Commune - PDA, Mansionair - Shadowboxer, Marco McKinnis - E’Merse EP, Maren Morris - GIRL, Maribou State - Kingdoms in Color Remixed, MARINA - LOVE + FEAR, Matt Maeson - Bank on the Funeral, McClenny - I’m Not Here EP, MED & Guilty Simpson - Child of the Jungle, Meg Mac - Hope, Megan Thee Stallion - Fever, Melii - phAses, Mereba - The Jungle Is The Only Way Out, Mickey Kojak - Coming Together EP, Middle Kids - New Songs for Old Problems EP, Mike Posner - A Real Good Kid, Mr. Carmack - Demolish [Mixtape], Mndsgn - Snaxx, MorMor - Some Place Else EP, The National - I Am Easy to Find, Nightly - Talk You Down EP, NIKI - wanna take this downtown? EP, Nina Nesbitt - The Sun Will Come Up, The Seasons Will Change, no rome - Crying In The Prettiest Places EP, Noah Kahan - Busyhead, Norah Jones - Begin Again, Octavian - Endorphins, ODESZA - A Moment Apart Remixes EP, Offset -  Father of Four, Oliver Dion - Exposed, Olivia O’Brien - Was It Even Real?, Omar Apollo - Friends EP, Panda Bear - Buoys, Patoranking - Wilmer, P!nk - Hurts 2B Human, Pink Sweat$ - Volume 2 EP, Phonte - Pacific Time EP, Plaid - Polymer, PnB Rock - TrapStar Turnt PopStar, Pond - Tasmania, PRETTYMUCH - Phases EP, Priests - The Seduction of Kansas, Prince - Originals, PUP - Morbid Stuff, Queen Herby - EP 5, Quelled Chris - Guns, Raja Kumari - BLOODLINE EP, Rat Boy - International Unknown, Raveena - Lucid, Rema - Rema EP, Reptaliens - VALIS, Rich The Kid - The World Is Yours 2, Rico Nasty & Kenny Beats - Anger Management, Rhye - Spirit, Rhys Lewis - In Between Minds EP, Rotimi - Walk With Me EP, Rudimental - Test Our Differences, Ruti - Racing Cars EP, Ryan Leslie - Fleurier Flows EP, RY X - Unfurl, RY X - The Water EP, SAFE - STAY, Said The Whale - Cascadia, St. Lucia - Remixed, Sammie - Everlasting, Santana - Africa Speaks, Santi - Mandy & The Jungle, Sara Bareilles - Amidst the Chaos, SASAMI - SASAMI, Saweetie - ICY EP, ScHoolboy Q - CrasH Talk, The Score - Pressure EP, Seasons - American Authors, Set It Off - Midnight, Set Mo - Surrender, Shafiq Husayn - The Loop, Sharon Van Etten - Remind Me Tomorrow, Shlohmo - The End, Shy Girls - Bird on the Wing, Silversun Pickups - Widow’s Weeds , Skepta - Ignorance Is Bliss, slenderbodies - soraya EP, slowthai - Nothing Great About Britain, Smif-N-Wessun - The All, Snake City - Hurts, SNBRN - Solé, SOAK - Grim Town, SOB X RBE & Hit-Boy - Family Not a Group, SOB X RBE & Marshmello - Roll the Dice EP, Sofia Kourtesis - Sofia Kourtesis EP, Solange - When I Get Home, SonReal - The Aaron LP, StayLoose - The City, Stef Chura - Midnight, Steve Lacy - Apollo XXI, Striking Matches - Morning EP, Styles P - S.P. The Goat: Ghost of All Time, Sufjan Stevens - Love Yourself / With My Whole Heart EP, Summer Walker - CLEAR EP, Sunflower Bean - King of the Dudes EP, Super Duper - Vessels EP, SVEA - This is EP, SYML - SYML, The Tallest Man On Earth - I Love You, Talos - Far Out Dust, Tank and the Bangas - Green Balloon, Tayla Parx - We Need To Talk, Taylor Bennett - The American Reject EP, Tech N9ne - N9na, TENDER - Fear of Falling Asleep, Terror Jr - Unfortunately, Terror Jr, Tiësto - Together, Tink - Voicemails, The-Dream - Menage a Trois: Sextape Vol. 1,2&3, T-Pain - 1UP, TOBi - STILL, Tom Walker - What A Time To Be Alive, Toro y Moi - Outer Peace, Tory Lanez - International Fargo [Mixtape], Trevor Jackson - Rough Draft 2, Tritonal - U & Me , The Vamps - Missing You EP, Various Artists - For The Throne (Music Inspired by the HBO Series Game of Thrones), Various Artists - Music Inspired by the Film Roma, Vasco - Tender Luv EP, Virginia to Vegas - Heartland St EP, Walshy Fire - Walsey Fire Presents: ABENG, Wallows - Nothing Happens, Wand - Laughing Matter, Weezer - Weezer (The Teal Album), Weyes Blood - Titanic Rising, Wild Belle - Everybody One of a Kind, Wu-Tang Clan - Of Mics and Men EP, X Ambassadors - ORION EP, XYLØ - pretty sad EP, Yeasayer - Erotic Reruns, Yeek - IDK WHERE, YG - 4REAL 4REAL, Yhung T.O. - On My Momma 2, Zacari - Run Free Run Wild EP, Zhavia Ward - 17 EP, 2 Chainz - Rap or Go to the League

Meh: A Boogie wit da Hoodie - Hoodie SZN, Berner - El Chivo, Birdman & Juvenile - Just Another Gangsta, Burna Boy & DJDS - Steel & Copper EP, Calboy - Wildboy, Casilofi - Create, Create, Create EP, DREAMERS - LAUNCH FLY LAND, DJ Muggs & Mach - Hommy: Tuez-Les Tous, Future - Future Hndrexx Presents: The WZRD, Future - SAVE ME EP, HiDoraah & Dolly White - Slimestas EP, Kenny Garrett - Hoax, Kevin Gates - Only The General Gon Understand EP, Logic - Supermarket, Miley Cyrus - SHE IS COMING EP, Night Lovell - GOODNIGHT LOVELL, Pet Shop Boys - Agenda EP, Pi’erre Bourne & Cardo Got WIngs - Pi’erre & Cardo’s WIld Adventure [Mixtape], Rod Wave - PTSD, Shy Glizzy - Covered N Blood, Spellling - Mazy Fly, Tee Grizzley - Scriptures, Tyga - Legendary, Wiz Khalifa & Curren$y - 2009, 03 Greedo - Still Summer in the Projects

Naw: Scarlxrd - INFINITY, Weezer - Weezer (The Black Album), Yung Gravy - Sensational, Zheani - The Line Censored

[jayjtheunsispiciousmelodicathem]

¶ My favourite thing about "homes" is that there's really no limit to how many places can be your home

¶ I feel like we're sort of conditioned to think that home is only the place we live in currently, so once you move out of your parents' house, it is no longer your home

¶ but really, unless you don't want to deal with your parents anymore, you got kicked out, or otherwise don't want anything to do with that place, then it's still as home, as home your current place is.

¶ I feel like it especially applies to when you first move out and live in a dorm or a studio apartment, or even if you somehow secure a larger place to live in, and it really doesn't feel home yet. You have to "rebuild" everything so to speak; you need to take some time to connect to your new place

¶ home is where your memories are fond, and you always look forward to going back to