#kids party ideas Perth

[callmewrinkles3]

Long story short - DR3 x Fem!OC

Masterlist.

Summary: Summer break 2023 means a trip back to Perth to see how construction is going on the farm and but especially to spend Em’s birthday with family.

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive family dynamics, mentions of sex, past pregnancy loss.

Words: 6k

A/N: Hey hey! We know you’ve missed oneshots so here’s Em’s birthday for you to enjoy. We may have cried multiple times writing this, just very normal. It was pretty great lol. Hope you enjoy it and let us know what you think! All our love, Alex and Cíara.💜

August 2023

The summer break every year - with the exception of 2018 and 2020 - had involved being in the States. It was usually LA and sun for a few days, or a week somewhere in the mountains for Dan to do altitude training to prepare for races like Brazil and Mexico. But that summer things were different. With the farm construction happening fast thanks to the baby’s due date coming so soon, and Blake and Charlie being adorable, the three of them were flying back home to spend the full two weeks of the shutdown in the Australian winter. It was still milder than a European one, Em giggling as the boys changed into thick hoodies before ending the journey that had started in Italy.

Dan wanted to take full advantage of the time off, conspiring with Charlie to plan Em’s thirty third birthday. She knew it was happening and just let him plan it. Even with her dislike of parties she knew Dan wouldn’t go too overboard, so she just laughed and told him to do what he wanted. Having it surrounded by people felt strange. The year before had been just the two of them in their little bubble, and before that it had always been with Dan. She hadn’t had her parents involved since she was ten and had her final birthday party before secondary school. Because she was a summer baby her parents had acted like she didn’t need a party. The kids in school wouldn’t realise there was no party to be invited to.

She insisted it wasn’t necessary to organise anything but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Dan wanted his pregnant wife to be as happy as she could be before the chaos of the last half of the season happened so it was a full thirteen days surrounded by their people before the flight back to Faenza.

Em had to admit that it was a perfect idea. Ever since she’d found out about the pregnancy and told Grace she needed her mother there for all the questions she had. It was a blessing to spend time and to ask the questions she was embarrassed about - even when Michelle butted in and made jokes at her expense. It was there with her family and she felt good. She could call either of them any time that she wanted but it was no substitute for actually being there. She needed the hugs and physical contact that only a mum could give.

What Em had needed the entire time was for the woman who’d promised to love her as her own to wrap her in a cuddle and remind her that everything was going to be fine. That she was going to spend Christmas with her beautiful newborn baby girl. And when Grace said it Em believed it.

They got to spend the two weeks with family and eating good food, being looked after before the world could intervene. That’s what Grace and Joe had always done for Dan and they pulled Em into that world, looking after their kids when they needed it the most.

But the best thing about staying with her in laws and not the building site that was currently their farmhouse was getting to stay in Dan’s childhood bedroom. Grace hadn’t redecorated since he’d left for Italy half his life ago, the old school NASCAR posters on the wall and karting trophies on shelves. The photos of his family and friends were there to surround Dan with reminders of his childhood. Em refused to mention the one of Dan and Michael on their school football team that had disappeared when she was in the shower one morning. She couldn’t ruin their time at home talking about something like that. As far as she was concerned the picture was never there. It was the same way they were all pretending Michael had never been in their lives. Grace and Joe knew better than to ask about him.

That whole situation hurt a little less every day, but it still ached. It was easier when they weren’t in the paddock. The plan was to spend more time in Italy so Dan could be at the factory more where Michael wouldn’t really be. In London and Perth they could avoid his neighbourhood and the places he liked to go. But race weekends it was impossible. They shared the same garage, the same hospitality. They turned left to go into Dan’s driver room at Budapest and Spa and knew that he was the other side of the too flimsy wall having turned right. They could and did run into him at any time. Em wanted to tell him how she was, how the baby was. How his niece was. But Lulu wasn’t going to be his niece. She wasn’t going to even know him. It gutted Em that her brother wasn’t in her life anymore but he’d made his decision and it didn’t hurt as much. But it hurt the most during the parties Dan held in Perth.

The first one was ridiculous and unexpected, held two days after they arrived in Australia. It was part Charlie’s idea and part Dan’s, the decision made between them to celebrate Blake and Em. Neither of them realised that it was happening when they arrived back at the Ricciardos that afternoon. Blake had brought her to take a look at kitchen fittings for the farmhouse, the plan to bring Dan back to look at her top picks before they were put into the rebuilt kitchen. She was getting the kitchen of her dreams and she was taking advantage, copper fittings and marble countertops on the wooden cabinets. There was all the storage she wanted, the plans were ready for her to show Dan and see what he thought. It was their forever home and she couldn’t wait.

She arrived back to Grace and Joe’s to their family there, Charlie’s brother Cal and his boyfriend standing near the back nervously. Blake’s parents had flown out to be there too. Dan stood on a rickety kitchen chair, his hand on Blake’s shoulder to stay steady.

“I’m usually good at saying stuff but this is really hard. The last…the last year or so has been really hard. And there’s two people who could have walked away but didn’t, and this is to make sure they know how loved and appreciated they are. Blake, you’re my brother. You more than anyone else had a reason to yell at me and tell me to get my shit together - sorry Ma.”

“Just this once!” Grace called as Dan collected himself.

“Emmy, you married me and you love me and we’re having a baby and I still don’t know why you decided to stay through everything that was said about you. But you are the best woman I’ve met in my life, and I love you to pieces. You know. But this is just to say thank you to all of you for being there and helping. Cause I wouldn’t be in a seat again without you all.”

It was scattered applause and Em reached for her husband to give him the biggest hug, pulling him tight for a moment as Lulu kicked against him.

“You’re gonna be the best dad, Dan. We love you so much. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

The words were completely true, even with everything that had happened. The emotional and physical pain. The embarrassment being turned away from the paddock in Spa the year before thanks to stupid mind games. The hospital visit and the therapy and the near screaming match with her parents. Because they were home with their baby coming soon and in love. It was hard and worth it.

She spent that day swapping between Isaac and Isabella on her knee, Cal and Ryder taking the other child and playing. The last thing she said to Cal before he left was that Ryder was a keeper, watching the younger man blush. He was a sweetheart like the rest of their family.

Blake and Charlie were the last ones to leave, hugs to everyone the order of the day. Finally they left, Em going nearly straight to bed to sleep thanks to missing her usual afternoon nap.

Em told Dan not to make a huge fuss of her birthday, that a relaxing day would be fine. But she knew really that there was no chance her husband or family would let her birthday pass like that. It was the one day where they could shower her with love and affection without her complaints so they took full advantage.

She woke up that morning to Dan covering her in kisses, pulling her in for slow birthday sex that had them both gasping for breath and desperate to keep quiet. Her husband held her even tighter for a few moments before they got up, Dan leading her to the kitchen where Grace and Joe sang Happy Birthday as she came in. There were pancakes and bacon waiting for her with a candle lit on the top of a lavender iced cupcake. She started tearing up immediately, not even attempting to pretend that it was the pregnancy hormones that caused her emotions. It was happy tears. She was happy and loved and that was what she cared about. She and Dan had made it through, and the joy that morning compared to the worry of the previous year was so different.

It felt like a dream compared to the year before, her husband by her side and she was pregnant with their baby. They were getting everything they wanted and life was good. Nobody was taking this from her and she spent her morning curled up against Dan on the couch as he kept whispering how much he loved her, making her grin and kissing her cheeks with each smile.

Nothing had prepared her for the birthday party that Blake, Charlie, and Dan had prepared for her at the Clarke’s farm. Dan led her into the barn where they’d held their wedding, a shout of “SURPRISE” ringing around the room. She loved it so much, lavender decorations everywhere as their families were all there. She started tearing up of happiness again, tears spilling over as Isaac and Isabella came running over to her yelling “happy birthday Auntie Emmy!”.

She honestly didn’t expect gifts from people. Dan had been the first person to give her gifts just because, but there was a table tucked away in the corner with presents for her to open later. It was insane to her how many there were, everyone saying she could open them later. Charlie’s parents hugged her and pulled a chair out to urge her to sit, Em watching as Isaac and Isabella brought over their presents for her.

The first one that Isaac insisted on her opening had Toy Story wrapping paper, and inside was a huge box with everything she could ever want to make friendship bracelets with. They had a tradition to make new ones every time they were in Perth with the kids, weaving thread and beads together to make cute ones. Isaac explained how he wanted new ones, and he wanted them to make new ones for the baby too.

“They’re gonna be teeny tiny cause the baby’s gonna be like Iz’s dolly, but we need them to have lots so they grow!” He explained to Em, clearly happy to have a new cousin to play with.

“You’re so right, Baby. I love it, thank you! You’re gonna come over at the weekend and we can make some before I go back to Europe?”

With a nod and a kiss on his aunt’s cheek Isaac ran back to his uncle Dan, the promise of getting to go look at the cattle on the farm too alluring. Instead his little sister took his spot on Em’s lap, handing over a box wrapped in lavender unicorn paper. Inside it was a bright pink Barbie box. The doll had brunette hair like Em, complete with a travel set. There was a neck pillow, a suitcase that looked like Em’s own one, and everything else Barbie her could need.

“It’s just like you!” Isabella exclaimed as soon as the paper was ripped away and dumped on the other side of the table. It really did nearly look like her.

“Oh my God, I love it.” She kissed her niece’s curly hair, holding on tightly as Isabella pointed out the phone and camera. “Thank you so, so much, Baby girl. I love it so, so much. It’s the best.”

“Can we play tomorrow?” The little girl asked, looking up with big eyes and an angelic face. It was nearly impossible for Em to say no.

“After school, ok? But then we can, promise. And we’ll have some more cake, but don’t tell your Mum and we’ll make sure to save some for her.”

At the start she didn’t ask why a Barbie doll, it came from her niece and that was what she cared about. But while during the party Isabella kept asking about the baby and patting Em’s tummy, she couldn’t stop wondering why. Once Isabella was safely occupied with one of Charlie’s nieces she decided she had to ask, walking over to her sister in law and getting the words out. As soon as Michelle began to speak Em regretted asking.

“We were in the kitchen and she came to tell me and Mum that you come up with the best stories for the Barbies while you play, but you never had one growing up so you didn’t have a favourite Barbie. She thought because you travel so much Travel Barbie would be your favourite. I couldn’t say no, Em. I’m sorry you never had one.”

Em never thought Isabella would remember that single conversation. It was months ago, the week before her wedding. If she’d realised Isabella would think about it she wouldn’t have said it.

Part of the therapy that Mildred was working on with her was giving her that allowance to be a kid. She’d never gotten to be, but Mildred told her to do the things she wanted to. Spend time with her niece and nephew and play with them. She’d made a bundle of friendship bracelets before seeing Taylor Swift as part of it. So when Isabella asked if she wanted to play Barbies Em said yes immediately.

She and Dan were on babysitting duty, the four of them were downstairs playing with Isaac’s cars. Instead of playing he and Dan had fallen asleep thanks to exhaustion and a sugar crash from the final wedding cake tests. The two girls were alone and Isabella pulled Em upstairs before taking out a Barbie carry case and asking Em to do braids in Skipper’s hair.

It was while Em was twisting the slick strands of plastic hair when Isabella asked her about her favourite Barbie as a kid. She couldn’t tell the truth and break her niece’s childhood. The truth was that her parents thought dolls were ridiculous and she was never allowed to have them growing up, that she had puzzles and non fiction books. Even fiction books had to be by certain authors or she couldn’t read them because they wouldn’t “develop her brain”.

The short answer, the easy one, was “Oh, I didn’t have any Barbies.” Followed by asking if Isabella wanted her hair to match Skippers and a child sitting in Em’s lap to get her french braids put in the subject matter was closed. She was convinced that Isabella had forgotten about it. The next topic of conversation was how pretty her flower girl dress for the wedding was and how she looked “like a fairy princess” in it. But she hadn’t.

Her thoughts were pinned on the topic after she spoke to Michelle. Em went mostly through the motions for the rest of the party, hugging her friends and talking to everyone. Chloe and Scotty made a surprise appearance for her, a giant hug and a promise that Em was coming out with Chloe and Charlie in a couple of days for lunch.

The box with the doll stayed in her hand and all she could imagine was a couple of years time when her daughter started playing with it. She couldn’t imagine having a baby, going through pregnancy and labour to not even want the result. To never really want a baby like her parents never wanted her. Even thinking about her baby girl not having the entire world hurt so much it made her want to cry. It was still four months until she’d arrive and Em and Dan would do anything to keep her safe and love her. Her nursery in London was ready to go, the last thing a photo collage Em wanted to make of all the adults who would love Lulu. The only reason her room in Perth wasn’t ready was because of the construction, but the furniture had been delivered and was sitting in an outbuilding. They already had enough to fill the playroom and the nursery even though Lulu would sleep in their room for the first few months. The travel arrangements were ready to go. They even had Lulu’s luggage all set.

Em had never really understood how someone couldn’t love their own child, but as she counted down the days to her due date it was even harder. She knew there was reasons why, she knew some people weren’t pregnant in good situations. But when she was pregnant and married and had tried for a baby? It was irrational to her that you wouldn’t want that child.

But while the birthday party continued she refused to let herself go there. She wouldn’t let herself think about why her parents were the way they were and how much that hurt. And she definitely wasn’t thinking about how the last time she came home from this room her former best friend had left her life in the most unceremonious of ways. That wasn’t raining on her parade, not today. So she walked over, hugged her husband, whispered how much she loved him and how thankful she was for the wonderful day she was having.

“Remember when you weren’t the party kind and I had to drag you anywhere?” Dan joked, kissing her cheek as she smiled.

“I reckon you were the one who dragged me to different ones ever since we met. But you know me, Dimples. I still don’t like big things much but this? This is nice. These are the ones I like.”

Even at 33 she hated when she was the centre of attention and people sang happy birthday to her. She wasn’t sure if anyone actually liked being surrounded by friends singing off key and out of tune, but for the first time it didn’t feel weird. The people who were around her had been supporting her through every single good and bad moment in the last five years. They loved her no matter how broken or weird she felt. They made sure that she knew how loved she was, no matter what. Every single person had wormed their way into her heart when she’d tried to keep people out. So when the singing ended and she took a deep breath to blow out the birthday candles in one breath she had one wish in her mind. To keep every single person in this room in her life forever.

The winter meant the sun was setting early, exhaustion hitting Em hard. She’d needed naps more and more since she’d become pregnant and this was the second time in a week that she hadn’t had one. After her third yawn and as the kids were getting cranky they all decided to head home. It took Dan to make her sit down and not help clear up, Charlie’s parents half shooing them out of the barn warning that the cleaning was sorted, to go home and rest. Joe drove them back, Grace in the front seat as Em rested her head against Dan’s shoulder and half dozed while the other three made conversation in low tones.

Her husband had to shake her to wake her up when they got back to the house, Em stretching as she undid her belt. It was tempting to stay and sleep in the car, but her back was sore enough after a night in a comfy bed. Sitting up in a car would be worse.

Dan didn’t want to wake her when they arrived back at the house, but it was safer for her to get out of the car on her own instead of Dan lifting her out. He helped her up and closed the door behind her.

“Did you have a good day, Kiddo?” Joe asked a half awake Em as they walked back into the house. Dan’s arm was around her waist to help keep her up and stop her from tripping up with tiredness.

“Best birthday of my life. You didn’t need to do it, but thank you for doing it for me.”

“It’s what you deserve, Darling,” Grace insisted. Her mother in law pushed a kiss to her forehead before Dan brought Em up to bed.

Before they made it into their room Dan dragged her into the bathroom, getting Em to sit on the toilet as he took her makeup off fully and helped rub her moisturiser in. She was too tired to do it, almost deciding to just sleep without washing her face. But as delicately as possible Dan wiped it off, using crouching in front of her as an excuse to stroke her cheek and steal kisses from his wife.

Once they were ready to go to bed Dan lifted her off the toilet and across the hallway to deposit her on the bed, Em giggling at his actions. It didn’t take long for him to pull her dress and leggings off, replacing them with clean underwear and one of his old, worn shirts that was soft enough for Em. She laughed as he kept stealing kisses from her as he pulled the shirt over her bump, rubbing gently

“I’m lazy and sleepy but I can still change my clothes on my own, Babe.”

“You know very well that I love undressing you. Even if you actually have to wear something to bed because we’re at home.”

If they were in the apartment or even on the farm they wouldn’t be wearing anything. The skin to skin contact in bed always made Em relax and help her sleep better but considering they were at Dan’s parents they had to be semi decent. Em wore one of his shirts and Dan would at least keep his underwear on. Even when he complained more than once.

“Any excuse to see me naked, right?” Em smiled before kissing his cheek and finally laying down to be able to rest. “C’mon Dimples, your wifey is exhausted. Come to bed.”

She patted the mattress beside her to wait for Dan to crawl into the bed and she could get into his arms. She knew it’d take him longer to fall asleep than her. Every night since she’d gotten that positive pregnancy test he’d started his own little night time ritual of telling the baby a story while kissing and stroking her bump. He wasn’t joking about wanting to be a hands on dad, so since day one he did everything in his power to connect with their baby. It didn’t matter how long was left until she was in his arms, he wanted his daughter to know who her daddy was from day one.

From all the things he did or could do those five or ten minutes as they wound down for bed were some of his favourite of the day. Most nights Em stayed awake listening to what her husband was saying while she read. Other nights like this one she fell asleep easily and left her loves to have their late night chats.

“Before I get in I have one last thing for you.” Dan pulled a colourful Happy Birthday gift bag that was hidden in the bottom drawer of the wardrobe. “I know you’re going to say I’ve given you too many gifts, but it’s your birthday and our anniversary so birthaversary rules mean I get to spoil you. If you let me I’d spoil you every day. I’m so lucky to get to love you and be your husband. I couldn’t say this earlier cause I’d start crying, but I just…thanks, Emmy. I couldn’t do any of this without you. And you’ve made me the happiest man in the world. I love you.”

“I love you too, Danny. So much. Marrying you is the best thing I ever did. And this better not be lingerie that won’t fit me anymore.” He laughed at her words and handed over the bag, sitting up beside her in the bed. It was six years of being around Dan, of him getting overexcited and determined to spoil her rotten at all times. She’d jokingly complain about how he got her too much, but he was like that for everyone. She learned to get used to how Dan showed his love with gifts and making life easier for people. This was another one of those occasions so she sat up on the bed with a pillow supporting her back, looking at her husband as he smiled.

“You’re the hottest mama in the world, Baby girl. But no, it’s nothing like that. Just open it, ok?”

The second Em opened the bag and saw the stuffed crocodile inside she started crying. Pregnancy hormones couldn’t be blamed for these tears.

When she was three her parents brought her on a trip to a holiday camp in Wales. She barely remembered any of it apart from a little playground beside the pub there, but it was the kind of place that was where they could take her for a weekend to prove how normal they were. An hour from Liverpool, two nights and enough photos to prove they took their daughter away on holiday.

One of the few things she did remember was how much she loved Captain Croc, the crocodile mascot that wandered around. They’d gotten her a teddy, the first one she remembered having. He was vivid green and yellow, blue dungarees with yellow interlocking Cs and big white eyes. He was her comfort toy, hugging him in her tiny arms and bringing him everywhere until she started primary school.

She thought she remembered the feeling of having a new best friend to play with and make up games. Now she knew it was probably her brain trying to make a memory to help her cope with a messed up childhood.

The one definite memory that Em did have was how thirty years later she watched her husband tear up as he looked at a photo of her tiny self holding Captain Croc. Dan held it together until they made it back to the hotel after they left her parents house with the final box of things she was taking. Once they were in that room he started sobbing because he didn’t understand how nobody was there to hold that little girl and tell her how perfect she was. He sobbed because he knew that it was one of the few really happy moments she had in her early childhood. Not that she realised that it should have been better then.

But above all Dan sobbed because that’s what their baby might have looked like. It was the week after she should have had their first baby. They should have been parents. Imagining how their baby could have been hurt like that by anyone cut him to the core and he sobbed in Em’s arms as she held him and promised that they would do better. They would make sure their baby was so loved. She was used to the casual cruelty of her own parents, the way they used words as weapons. Dan who’d never known anything but support and love didn’t understand it.

This teddy meant more than just a gift from her husband to remind her of a bright spot in her life. It was the reminder of slowly healing wounds that still weren’t fully scabbed over. That photo had opened them up more again, and the teddy reminded her more. The day she told Dan the story he held her as they both sobbed. He’d have done anything to have a little girl who looked just like his Emmy. Anything to see his Emmy holding their mini me baby but life was unfair and cruel. Instead of holding their baby that day they held each other, promising that one day it was going to happen. They were going to get to have their family and be happy, no matter what.

But in the final hours of her birthday, thirty one years after she first held her teddy, Em started sobbing again. She had no idea how Dan had found an exact copy of the Captain Croc she’d loved so much but he did. Hers was too delicate, kept in a box in the apartment in London to be shown to her kids as a memento. But he’d found a brand new one, making child and adult Em sob with happiness.

“I knew that a certain little lady wanted to give you a Barbie because you never had one, so I thought that Barbie could do with having a friend. And in a couple of years when our little lady is able to she’ll want to play with them too.” Dan helped Em pull him out of the bag. It should have been easy but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t get him out fully.

The adrenaline and relief flowing through her body made her shake like a leaf in Dan’s arms. Em didn’t know how she had gotten this lucky. She had friends who flew hours to see her for her birthday, a family who loved her enough to make a big deal of her. And the most loving and caring husband in the world. She still didn’t know what she did to deserve it and get it, but she was so thankful for it. It was yet another day where even with everything that had happened, even with the way her parents acted and her family was it was worth it because she had Dan. She’d have done it over and over if this was the result. She was married to the love of her life, she was having their baby, and they were happier than she thought possible.

It took longer than she expected to calm down her sobs, Dan holding onto her tightly. He ran his hand against her back, whispering how much he loved her in between pressing kisses to her face and head. It was whispers of how proud he was of her, how much he loved her, how wonderful she was. And most importantly how he knew that their baby loved her already.

“Marrying you a year ago was the best decision of my entire life, you know that, right?” Em whispered, her voice still shaking with sobs. “Y’know, right?”

“I know. We’re still a couple of hours away from exactly a year.” Dan checked his watch, it was ten in Perth, two in London. This time a year ago he was waiting for Em to come back and pick out wedding rings with him before their four pm appointment.

“Happy anniversary, my Love. It was the best idea we ever had.”

Her birthday overshadowed the fact that it was their first wedding anniversary. A year ago they were running around London, Em buying her wedding dress in Marks and Spencer as Dan wore a suit she loved him in. The two of them standing in the registry office in Kensington and promising to love each other, desperate to keep the other happy and get through the next few months together.

It was hard to believe that 365 days had passed since she finally became Mrs Ricciardo. She loved it. She’d loved being his wife every single day, even the horrible ones. It was a year where she’d woken up at her husband’s side every single morning and she could never take it for granted.

“Happy anniversary, Baby girl. You and our little one here are the greatest things that ever happened to me,” Dan whispered as he pulled her up, close enough to finally give Em a kiss while he rubbed her bump.

“Happy anniversary, Danny. Here, for you.” Em reached across and pulled the wrapped package out from under the bed. She’d been wracking her brain about what to get him, but in the end it was an easy decision. Dan opened it quickly, Em watching as he realised what it was.

Traditionally the first anniversary was paper, and she found someone on Etsy who made star charts of the night sky on important dates. It was the sky above London the night they met, Monaco the first night they spent together, Spa when they said they loved each other for the first time, and London when they’d got married. The poster was their important moments highlighted and she saw the grin spread across his face.

“You are amazing. Thank you. This is…it’s everything.” He put it to the side as he pulled her in, holding her as she began to lull to sleep.

“You know what’s crazy? Next year we’re gonna be celebrating our birthdays and anniversaries with her.”

“That’s all I want. The three of us snuggled up together doing nothing all day.”

Em couldn’t help but smile, imagining how it would be to wake up with their baby and her husband right there. No plans needed except spending the day with the loves of her life. She didn’t want anything else and it felt greedy to even consider asking to get anything else. She got to marry her Dan and love him openly, and their baby was strong and healthy and growing. It was more than she could have imagined.

“We’ll cuddle and eat cake. She better like lemon drizzle. I mean I’ll settle for chocolate fudge if I have to.”

“She might not. I mean I’ve been eating it so much she might hate it. Or she’ll be obsessed.”

“Lulu’s half you, Emmy. She’s obsessed already I think.” Em laughed at his tone, curling into Dan.

“Can I sleep like this?” She asked, hiding her face against Dan’s chest. She felt ridiculous holding Captain Croc in her arms as she could feel sleep hitting her while her husband was holding her tightly. But she felt just as defenceless as the little girl in the photos. The big difference between the Em of thirty years ago was that now there were people who looked after her and hugged her on the bad days. Who made sure she was eating and cared for. She’d never had someone love her unconditionally like that until Dan was in her life.

“Anything you want, birthday girl.”

Em’s wishes were Dan’s commands, so she fell asleep in her husband’s arms, head on his chest as her teddy was between them with Dan’s low whispers to their baby echoing in her ears. It might be immature, a grown woman and soon to be mother getting that comfort, but she wanted and needed it. The rest didn’t matter. She and Dan were happy and that was what was important.

—

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[semperama]

if you wanna write sorta angst— maybe forced outing maxiel or ex husbands with benefits maxiel

Ex husbands with benefits is SO my thing. I LOVE a good exes fic! I might write a longer one someday, but here's a little taste.

In the few minutes afterward, when they're laying side by side, Daniel's leg draped over his, Daniel's come dripping out of him--it's hard to remember why this ended.

Max doesn't mind LA. It's not his favorite place in the world, but he could live here, for Daniel. He would have preferred Australia. Before the end, he dropped hints all the time that he'd be happy in Perth, on the farm, if that's what Daniel wanted, but Daniel always brushed him off for reasons Max still doesn't understand.

And he doesn't mind Daniel's life now, his friends. He's never been a fan of celebrity culture, but he won't say no to the exclusive parties and exclusive clubs. He doesn't even mind weighing in on Daniel's near-constant new merch designs, though he doesn't care about fashion even a fraction as much as Daniel does. He doesn't care about it at all, in fact, but he can suck it up. He knows how to do that much.

"How long are you in town?" Daniel asks, still a little out of breath. They didn't do the small talk beforehand. Daniel pounced as soon as he opened the door, tossing Max's bag against the wall in the foyer with a thud before dragging him to the bedroom.

"Couple weeks, maybe," Max says. "The next race is in a month, but I wanted to spend some time with my mom too."

He can feel Daniel tense up, and--yeah, Max remembers now. All their fights. I thought you were retiring at the end of this year, Daniel would say. What would I do then? Max would answer. Max is 35 now, older than Daniel was when he stopped racing, older than a lot of people, but...he still doesn't know the answer to that question. Doesn't know what he would do if he stopped.

Kids? Daniel had suggested once, but Max recoiled from the idea like it had burned him. He loves kids. He's even good with kids. But there's a difference between playing with his sister's kids and raising ones of his own.

"You're staying here?" Daniel asks, and his voice is flat, like he doesn't care one way or another. Or maybe like he'd prefer if Max didn't.

"I can get a hotel if you want."

"No, no." Daniel sighs, rolls toward Max and drifts his fingers idly over one of Max's nipples, making it pebble up and making Max shiver. "That doesn't make sense. You know you're always welcome here."

Max shuts his eyes, swallows hard. "Always?" he asks. He doesn't want to see the expression on Daniel's face. Daniel might lie to him.

Daniel doesn't answer at all, though. Instead, he rolls on top of Max and wraps his fingers around Max's wrists, pins them above his head. Max opens his eyes and looks up at Daniel, and he has to bite down on the urge to tell him he loves him. Because he does. Always has. Since the moment he met him.

It'll hurt Daniel to hear it, though, so he holds the words back. He never wants to hurt Daniel, but he always seems to be doing it anyway.

"I want you here," Daniel says, and then leans down to take Max's bottom lip between his teeth, like he doesn't want Max to say anything back. It helps, to have Daniel's mouth on his. He bucks up against him, kisses him back, and hopes Daniel can't feel what he's feeling, hopes they can both be happy with just this.

[respectthepetty]

Hello hello! I finally caught up on DFF a few days ago and have been reading a bunch of meta ever since, but there are some things I can’t follow. Maybe you can help me?

First off, we keep talking about there being a Final Girl, but why is everyone so sure that there will be one? I could see more people surviving or the story going in a different direction entirely. Where does this conviction come from?

Then, I’m on board with the idea of hallucinations, but one thing that always bothers me is the question of how you could make sure that they all hallucinate the very same thing? I don’t know how hallucination-inducing drugs work, but that seems kind of weird to me.

Also, who is Tan and who is Perth again? This is such a dumb question, but I’m terrible with names and faces, and I know most of the characters now, but I keep mixing up these two.

Thank you so much for your time!

Anon, let me answer your last question first:

This is Mio who plays Tan in the series. Tan is part of the friend group but came along after Non disappeared.

This is Perth but it is unknown who he is playing in the series. He was only in the background of this scene in the dark jacket with the grey shirt.

As for the other questions, unfortunately, I cannot help you because unlike the rest of these perfectly normal people watching Dead Friend Forever, I'm crazy.

And because I'm crazy, I do NOT care about "reasoning" when it comes to my wack-a-doodle-doo theories. Therefore, White will be the Final Gay simply because I want him to be, and because none of these other motherf*ckers deserve to live.

Yeah, Fluke hasn't actively done anything, but he knew all of this was happening and turned a blind eye, so if Por is dead, why not just kill all of them? Well, expect for the actual killers, Tan and Phi, and the Final Gay White.

Por's death could have just been an accident, and everyone else will get out of this alive, but . . . I don't want it. I want Fluke to shoot Top, Tee to wrestle the gun away from Fluke only for it to go off and kill Fluke, White to kill Tee and run off scared, Tan to "die" because of an asthma attack (but he won't be dead), which will leave Jin and Phi as the only survivors, only for Jin to be stabbed by Phi right before White shows up with help.

Do you feel the crazy? Do you see what I was saying about myself? You cannot ask me logical questions because I am not using deductive skills. I'm operating off of vibes and vibes alone, which is why I felt Phi was sus in episode one. It's also why I don't like Jin. It's a vibe.

Which brings me to your drugs question - The vibes are off!

I think that Non is still alive and running around scaring them all, so not everything is because of the drugs, but if the energy isn't right, if the mood isn't chill, if the vibe isn't good, the drugs are going to hit different. The figurative trip will be bad. So if the literal trip involves the boys talking about Non and seeing videos of Non while they run through the woods for their lives, whatever drugs are in their system aren't going to be happy in a body with that amount of stress, and their brain will focus on Non and the masked killer. In fact, a common side effect of most party drugs is paranoia.

Hell, even some known prescriptions for depression and anxiety can cause these side effects.

Then again, I just do drugs. I don't know the actual science behind them, but I do know if the vibes ain't right, you're not gonna have a good night.

And these boys seem to be having a really shitty night.

But also, the boys haven't all seen the same thing. Fluke saw Por's eyes bleeding and attacking him. White saw a rash on his skin. Jin saw Mr. Keng. Top saw the masked killer trying to axe him (I think part of this was real) and thought he saw a masked killer in the road, so he scared Tee going on about it. Top also might be having a reaction to it which is why he was seizing.

PSA: Test your drugs, kids. Even Amazon, which I think is the devil, sells drug testing kits.

In case you have no idea what this image is about, the joint in her hand is laced with cocaine and was probably one of the reasons her ass was going through endless time loops, so don't do coke. Or things laced with it. Unless you wanna go into other dimensions and DIE every single time. Okay? M'kay!

So to wrap up my special brand of crazy:

White will be the Final Gay because like the Backstreet Boys, "I want it that way."

Everyone deserves to die because Phi is a cop's kid, and if the cops are good for anything, it's covering up the truth, so let this work in our favor for once.

Drugs be drugging, and sometimes people will think of the boy they tried to kill when under the influence, but it's a toss up. Who can predict what a person will see? So, like, don't betray people and you won't hallucinate being stalked by your own guilt *cough* Judas *cough*

Oh, and always test your drugs.

I hope this helped you, but it probably didn't. Either way, I'll see you in the tags in a few hours after Non finally loses his shit.

Slay, Non, slay!

[noahsteensonfilms]

"WHEN ONLY WE'RE AROUND" SNEAK PEEK

Some sneak peeks at my feature film script I've been working on since 9th grade.

Emiliano Ortiz, a young son of wealthy Costa Rican/Mexican immigrant parents now living in Perth, Australia, Invites Elliot Sanderson, a half American teen who deals with identity issues after being forced into extracurriculars (as the only biological child of his mum, who fosters many kids), to his house to finish of an assignment from thier music class.

The assignment seems simple, write a song and record it to submit to a teacher. And they have an entire long weekend (3 days) until the deadline. The only problem is that the secrets they are hiding keep them preoccupied.

Elliot's erratic behaviour, collapsing, and spasming is quickly revealed to be HPPD, a condition that gives the person the effects of hallucinogenic drugs up to years after the consumption of the drug, which happened after a bad trip at a party 6 months ago.

Emiliano's secret however, he does not want to reveal. He's been quieter, reserved. He won't let anyone touch his book, and he won't leave the book alone.

All this while also tackling with thier blooming romance.

This movie is only in drafting stage rn, and definitely won't be made until after I finish University, but I wanted to get these ideas out of my head because I love this story so much, it has consumed my brain for the last 6 years.

Contains representation for

Gay men

Agender

Demiboy

Austism

HPPD

Unlabelled

[rabbitcruiser]

Hug an Australian Day

Spread a little love around the world by participating in Hug an  Australian Day. Show some appreciation to an Aussie in your life, or  plan a trip!

In hindsight, Men at Work’s Down Under was a pretty average song.  Thankfully, the country has provided so much more over the years. Hug an  Australian Day is a perfect time to show gratitude and appreciation  while simultaneously spreading a little love across the world. In a  world where people are often made to feel more divided than ever, the  simple gesture can make a huge impact.

Like throwing a boomerang, the good vibes will return very quickly.  Aside from participants living or vacationing in Perth, Melbourne et al.  Hug an Australian Day needn’t impact the entire day either. It’s fun,  simple, and an event that everyone can join regardless of where they  are.

It’s certain to be a g’day for everyone involved.

Learn about Hug an Australian Day

The concept of Hug an Australian Day is truly as simple as it sounds.  Hugs are a friendly signal of affection that is scientifically shown to  have a positive psychological effect on both parties. Whether from a  loved one or a stranger, a quick and kind embrace can significantly  enhance a person’s day. Hug an Australian Day allows participants to  enjoy those rewards while also feeling that they are taking part of a  social event. And, let’s not ignore the fact that it’s great social  media content too.

Hug an Australian Day isn’t limited to Australians by birth and  current Australian citizens. Australians that have emigrated count.  Individuals with Australian heritage count. Even people that have  married into an Australian family tick the box. Ultimately, the annual  celebration is just a bit of fun that encourages people to connect with  each other while simultaneously promoting positive vibes and a little  gratitude towards the country that provided so many great pop culture  icons.

Every hug is a step towards repairing the damage that Bart Simpson  caused when dropping his pants to the Aussie government anyway…

Hugs are ultimately a physically symbolic gesture that represents  love for Australia’s culture and people. Those sentiments can quickly  grow by showing an interest. Talking about kangaroos and koala bears is  great. Meanwhile, it’s a great opportunity to enjoy a little banter by  explaining that Tim Tams will never reach the standards of Twinkies.

Hug an Australian Day could equally be known as “Show Some Love and  Appreciation to Australian Friends Day”. Wouldn’t like quite as good on a  t-shirt, though, would it? Likewise, very few people would be  interested in typing out that URL.

History of Hug an Australian Day

Despite being a fun and lighthearted celebration, Hug an Australian  Day is actually a copyrighted holiday. The annual event was launched by  Thomas and Ruth Roy, who are the co-founders of Wellcat.com too. The  couple are behind dozens of fun and crazy events and vacation ideas like  The Monitor Liberation Day, Answer Your Cat’s Question Day, Yell  ‘Fudge’ at the Cobras in North America Day, Take Your Houseplants for a  Walk Day, and more. So, the Australian-hugging day is actually a pretty  tame idea by their standards.

The day was launched by the pair simply with the humble goal “to show  our great appreciation for all the love and support the Aussies have  given us over the years” and has grown at a rapid rate in conjunction  with one of the most popular times in the year for visiting the land  Down Under. It started out relatively small scale but has gained major  press in recent years while the word has spread particularly fast on  social media and other online channels.

Participants of the annual event are advised to spoil Australian  friends with Koala bear or kangaroo toys and imported snacks. However,  it’s a great excuse for individuals to stock up on those items for  themselves. As well as a day of appreciation, it can be a day of  discovery. The day is also a family-friendly event that enables kids to  teach their kid about all things Australia too – thank the internet gods  for YouTube.

The day is now celebrated by millions of people across several  countries and continents while it additionally gains a fair level of  interest in Australia too. The history of the celebration is still in  its infancy, but there’s no doubt that people are increasingly aware of  everything the day stands for.

How to celebrate Hug an Australian Day

There’s no prizes for guessing the answer to this one. The clue is in  the title; hugging an Australian is the best way to celebrate by far.  Anyone thinking it’ll be Kylie should be so Lucky, Lucky, Lucky, but it  shouldn’t take long to find a friend, colleague, or distant relative  that fits the bill.

Anyone wanting to capture the magic of the Australian fixation of the  1980s can build their day’s activities around all things Australian.  Whack on the Kylie CD, watch Crocodile Dundee or Steve Irwin, open a tin  of Foster’s or Castlemaine XXXX, and go play with a boomerang in the  garden. Hug an Australian Day does require an Ozzie to complete the  obvious task. However, it is possible to celebrate the people and  culture of the land Down Under all alone if preferred – or with  non-Australian friends.

Others will create artistic homages to Australia or wear the flag,  potentially as a face paint design. Whichever way it is celebrated, the  #HuganAustralianDay hashtag will trend on social media throughout the  day.

Australia is a highly popular once-in-a-lifetime holiday destination  too. When combined with the pleasant climate and off-peak pricing, an  increasing number of people plan their visits to Australia around the  event. The atmosphere on the day itself is certain to be a winner, while  the memories created during that time exploring the Outback are  incredible.

There’s no one right or wrong way to celebrate the annual event.  However, it is important to take the feelings of the recipients into  account. The universally accepted protocol is to say “happy Hug an  Australian Day” before asking whether they’re happy to be hugged.  Simple.

Source

[paramorearchived]

March 6, 2010

Transcript:

NZ -> Singapore.

 so, i was on the plane today. well, we all were. (we're in singapore now!). and being that we were sitting in business class, there were a lot of business men just hanging out, shipping champagne and laughing at things that i don't really understand. so, this business man is hanging with his other business friend and they're wearing the exact same outfit... only business man #2 is wearing his grey slacks so tight and high on his waist that his balls are like suffocating. and i can see this happening. like his pants are not leaving any room for my imagination. not that i would've wanted to imagine it in the first place. the worst part is that he is just standing right there, in my direct eyeline and i can't. stop. looking. it was a train wreck of manly horror.  maybe i should've just said something. honestly, i kinda felt like i had a right to. what a sight it was, you guys. i wish you all could've been there. 

in other news... haha... this tour has honestly done a million wonders for me. being in all these places and meeting people who live half a world (literally) away from where we're from. it's such a blessing to play these shows and see all of you out here. japan was incredible. from the shows, to the dinners and shopping trips, the sight seeing. we were able to work with our original promoter - from the first trip we ever took over there. so the whole thing just felt like one big party.  being able to play soundwave festival for the first time could not have been any better. our sideshows ruled. youmeatsix are always a blast to hang with... and the festivals were. massive. thanks to everyone who stood under the blistering sun all day to hang with us. i thought i would die on stage in perth. we made it though. honestly, i still don't get how zac puts on those shows and makes it all the way through playing as hard as he does. metal as hell, y'all.  i have to say, new zealand just about takes the cake. we had never been there, though, so maybe that's what it is. our friend rowan, from the jury & the saints, took us around to all of his favorite spots and some of us even stayed over at his place to watch movies and climb trees. you guys, i climbed the highest tree ever... i would show you the pics but i went swimming in the ocean with my blackberry - which has since died - and that's where all the photo proof is. 

(SIDE NOTE: Anne Hathaway is absolutely stunning, kill me.)

and now, here we are in Singapore for the first time! we were greeted by some crazy fans at the airport. sometimes it makes me so sad when we can't stay and hang. if we had a van and were in charge of driving it.. we'd make our own schedule. unfortunately, we get driven all over the place by folks that actually know where they're going in all these cities. so they make the rules. hahah, it's probably a good idea. we used to get lost every day touring in our van. anyways, i can't wait to just be on stage tomorrow and see how these shows are gonna go down. bet it will be unbelievable. 

i gotta run. think i'm gonna bug jeremy.  love you guys so much. 

ps. we saw so many of our friends over the past week... and we want you to listen to em and know how awesome they are. Here ya goooo - youmeatsix, The Jury & The Saints, Alexisonfire, Comeback Kid, Set Your Goals, Sunny Day Real Estate. there are plenty more but i'll save them for another time!

[patiolivings]

Designing Your Outdoor Escape: Inspiring Patio Ideas For Ultimate Relaxation

Whether you're looking to expand your home or simply want to enjoy the warm weather, an outdoor Patio Perth is a great way to add space and create your own personal oasis. Whether you want a place for dinner parties, relaxing with friends, or simply enjoying some quiet time on your own, these ideas can help you plan out your new paradise.

Create a serene outdoor space with a spa-like vibe.

While it may seem like a lot of work to create a serene outdoor space, it doesn't have to be. Your patio can be filled with calming colors and natural materials that will help you relax. Here are some ideas:

Use a soothing color palette. Instead of using bright reds or greens, opt for softer shades like blues and grays--they'll create an atmosphere that's relaxing and calming without feeling too boring.

Add some greenery! Plants are great at adding life and energy into any space, so use them as focal points around your patio area by placing them in containers or hanging baskets above the table where guests can enjoy them while they eat breakfast outside together on Saturday mornings before heading off in separate directions throughout their day.

Create an outdoor room with abundant space and seating.

Create an outdoor room with abundant space and seating.

Use your outdoor space to entertain guests, relax, read and watch the kids play.

Outdoor rooms are great for dining and entertaining guests. They can also be used as a bedroom or office if you have enough room!

Design a relaxing outdoor space with a soothing color palette.

If you're going for a relaxing look, consider using a soothing color palette. A soothing combination of warm tones and cool shades will help you achieve that feeling of calmness. You can also go with an all-white or gray scheme if you want to really relax and unwind in your outdoor space.

The best way to get started on designing your perfect patio is by choosing one or two main colors that complement each other well--these should be the dominant colors in your patio design plan! From there, add accents like pillows or throw blankets that match these base hues so everything looks cohesive when viewed together as one unit (or "ensemble").

Add some greenery to your patio for an eye-catching focal point.

Add some greenery to your patio or Decking Perth for an eye-catching focal point.

Choose plants that are drought tolerant. If you're planning on using potted plants, consider choosing ones that don't require much watering and can thrive in the shade of an overhang or roofline. This will save you time and energy, plus it'll help keep the area looking neat and tidy!

Use a combination of potted plants and hanging plants. While this might seem like more work than just having one type of greenery in your outdoor space, mixing up your options increases visual interest while also providing additional opportunities for relaxation (elements such as birds singing). Plus, if something goes wrong with one type of plant--say it dies out after only a few weeks--you still have options left!

Conclusion

Your outdoor space is a place where you can enjoy the great outdoors, so make it as comfortable and inviting as possible by building a Patio Perth. Whether you want to create a spa-like vibe or an eye-catching focal point with greenery, these ideas should help get your imagination going!

Source by - https://bit.ly/3BVMCW0

[thegymbus-blog]

Hassle free Children Birthday Party Planner

The GymBus will take a maximum of 28. However, we recommend a maximum of 26 for the quality of service. If you exceed 28, then the party will have to be split up into two groups, sharing the available time. Please contact the office on 0429 770 277 for the best options for parties with more than 28 guests.

The size of your house, and the eating and playing area.

Send the invitations out allowing enough time to RSVP, and for you to make any adjustments for catering etc.

TIME  GymBus birthday parties can be for 1hr or 1.5hrs for older children. Have the guests arrive at least 15 minutes before the bus. This allows for latecomers, present opening, general welcoming as well as chatty parents. When deciding on a time consider the age of the children. Younger children respond better to an early part of the day. Advise your guests the time the GymBus will be coming and to wear appropriate play clothes. Allow 30-45 minutes at the end for the party food and birthday cake. A total of 2-2.5 hours from start to finish, works best for most ages. Read more about Children Birthday Party Planner.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 18: Summers In Florence] [Series Finale]

A/N: If it doesn’t end with a wedding, is it even my fic??! 😂 For those who somehow haven’t yet read Baby You Were My Picket Fence (my most popular series), you might be a tiny bit confused during this chapter. Just roll with it. 😉 Also, COVID-19 doesn’t exist. What a wonderful world. Thank you so much for sticking with me and BYCNL. I love you all. 💜

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​ @herewegoagainniall​ @anotheronewritesthedust1​ @pomjompish​ @writerxinthedark​ @culturefiendtrashqueen​ @allauraleigh​ ​@deakydeacy @bluutac​ @johndeaconshands​ @nyxaura​

It’s May 25th, 1984, and Roger and John are in Perth, Australia to promote Queen’s eleventh album, The Works.

Interviewer, daytime television host Ronald Inglewood: “Good morning and welcome to our viewers across Australia! We’re sitting down this morning with Roger Taylor and John Deacon, respectively the drummer and bassist of Queen, who are here to talk about the band’s brand new album called—quite self-assuredly, if I may say so, gentlemen—The Works. Hello to you both.”

Roger: “Good morning, Ron!”

John: “Hello.”

Interviewer: “And this latest album has been rather well-received so far, is that right?”

Roger: “It has, yes, and we’re enormously proud of it.”

Interviewer: “Now, The Works is a very different album than Hot Space, Queen’s sort of notorious foray into disco...do you think the back-to-basics, classic rock and roll feel of The Works has been the driving force behind its success?”

Roger: “Well, you know...I think experimentation is very important. We’ve always been an experimental band. The single Bohemian Rhapsody was hugely experimental, and that’s why it was such a phenomenon. We were experimenting long before A Night At The Opera, and I suspect we’ll keep on trying new things until we run out of ideas, whenever that is! I didn’t love every song on Hot Space, I’ll be completely transparent about that, but I certainly don’t think the album was a failure or a waste of time. It was an experiment. And The Works is an experiment as well, just one that runs in a different vein, I suppose.”

John: “Some people did actually enjoy Hot Space.”

Roger: “I think I know one or two.”

Interviewer: “Of course, it did have its bright spots. Under Pressure remains one of Queen’s biggest hits, doesn’t it?”

Roger: “Yes, and John wrote the bassline for that one!”

Interviewer: “Really?!”

John: “And Roger has his own hit on The Works, at last. We’re all very happy for him.”

Roger: “Only took ten years.”

John: “Fourteen, actually.”

Roger: “I’m going to murder you as soon as we get backstage.”

John: “You’re welcome to try.”

Interviewer: “Now this hit of yours, Roger, is Radio Ga Ga. And I’m sure we’ve all seen the famous music video, the hovercraft, the futurism, the clapping...we’ve all seen it, right? Where on earth did you get the idea for that song?”

Roger: “It actually originated from something I heard my daughter Violet say.”

Interviewer: “Fascinating! And you’ve just welcomed another one recently, haven’t you?”

Roger: “Yes, last month, in fact. A little girl named Nora. “

Interviewer: “Congratulations!”

Roger: “Thanks so much, Ron. Our eldest, Violet, turned two in January, and the idea for Radio Ga Ga came about when she was first learning to talk. She would always stumble around—you know how babies do—clapping her hands and squealing the most nonsensical things, and one day she started trying out ‘radio’ and then adding random words to it, ‘radio goo goo,’ ‘radio mama,’ ‘radio dada,’ etcetera. Well ‘radio ga ga’ got stuck in my head and I started sort of lamenting how television had begun to eclipse the radio as a medium for music and entertainment. We were on vacation in California at the time, and I locked myself in a hotel room with a keyboard and a drum machine to get it written. I initially thought it might end up on one of my solo albums, but then John heard it and wrote a bassline, and Freddie really thought it could be a hit and pushed to have it on The Works...and here we are today!”

Interviewer: “That Freddie Mercury has awfully good instincts about these things, doesn’t he?”

John: “Oh, he’s a genius, no doubt about that.”

Interviewer: “And John, I understand you wrote the other single released from The Works, I Want To Break Free. Any deep philosophical messaging in that one?”  

John: “Well I suppose we’ve all been in situations that feel...rather constraining or hopeless. And then things that bring us back to life again. So this song is about a character going through that process and coming out on the other side.”

Interviewer: “Indeed.”

John: “But we wanted to keep things amusing and lighthearted in the music video, hence the dressing in drag bit. And to our absolute horror, Roger was very alluring as a schoolgirl.”

Roger: “It’s true. I have irresistible legs. I was born to wear miniskirts.”

Interviewer: “Ah, this is the music video that is beloved in Europe and here in Australia but has stirred up so much controversy over in the States. Has the hullabaloo dampened your enthusiasm for the song, or even the entire album, somewhat?”

Roger: “We’re not bothered much at all, to be honest with you. It’s like I said, Queen is always going to have fun and experiment and take creative risks. And if people don’t like it, then they’re welcome to not listen.”

Interviewer: “Yes, yes, I suppose you could say that.”

Roger: “Americans, you know, they can just be so bloody puritanical. It absolutely takes all the enjoyment out of life. All the humor. Americans these days can be very difficult for us to connect with.”

John: “Well, not all of them.”

Roger: “No, of course, not all of them.”

John: “But we’ll start touring at the end of August, and we’ll be spending several months in the States, so they have time to come around to us. We’re all really looking forward to being on the road again.”

Interviewer: “It has certainly been and will continue to be a very eventful year for Queen. And for the four of you personally. A new baby for Roger, and you’ve just gotten married, haven’t you John?”

John: “I did, yes. And Roger was in attendance! No miniskirt that day, though. Sadly.”

Roger: “The whole band was there. And my girlfriend and children too. It was quite a party.”

Interviewer: “That’s wonderful to hear, considering the...the...well, not to bring up tabloid gossip, but the complexity of the situation. It was a destination wedding, wasn’t it?”

John: “Yes, we were married in the Basilica di Santa Croce in Florence, Italy. It’s breathtaking, the largest Franciscan church in the world, built in the 1300s. And we filled it with friends and family and live music and flowers and food...all the trappings. Took about a million photos. Celebrated until dawn.”

Roger: “It was a very sentimental occasion. Everyone really enjoyed it. John cried.”

John: “I did, it’s true.”

Roger: “He promised he wouldn’t and then he did.”

John: “Well, you don’t have to bring it up all the time!”

Roger: “It was touching, really.”

Interviewer: “It must have been a magical time. You’re positively radiant, John! Marvelous. And some much-needed good news, I imagine. I understand you’ve recently gone through an exceptionally antagonistic and protracted divorce.”

John: “Well...uh...I suppose that’s...uh...”

Roger: “How about we ask you the same thing? How was your divorce, Ron?”

Interviewer: “What?”

Roger: “You’re on your third marriage, is that right? And I think I heard that the latest Mrs. Inglewood is very young indeed, almost thirty years your junior. How did your former wife take that news? How did your adult children? How was your goddamn divorce?”

Interviewer: “That’s a rude question.”

Roger: “Yes, you’re right, it’s an extremely rude question. So you shouldn’t fucking ask it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s December 25th, 1986, and the children are tearing open presents under a fifteen-foot-tall Christmas tree in the living room of Garden Lodge.

Freddie and Jim Hutton are serving cookies and milk and clapping their hands as they tower over tiny shoulders, cheering the kids on as they litter the floor with wrapping paper and bows and scatter their new toys everywhere: Care Bears, Magic 8 Balls, My Little Ponies, Mr. Potato Heads, Barbies, Etch-A-Sketches, Transformers, miniature Lukes and Leias and Chewbaccas, View-Masters with scenes of oceans and deserts and forests and stars. With so many fragmented families, there was only one logical approach to handling major holidays: convincing everyone to celebrate together on neutral ground.

Mary and Veronica are chatting by the roaring fireplace. Phoebe, Joe Fanelli, John, and Roger are embroiled in a brutally competitive Scrabble game; Dominique, smirking stealthily, leans over Roger to read his tiles and periodically whispers ideas to him. Brian and Anita are circling the flock of giggling children—Laszlo, Anna, Teddy, Evelyn, Lena, Antoni, Violet, and Nora—and snapping photos with your Canon between long, yearning gazes at one another, wearing matching Christmas sweaters that are a deep, passionate crimson. Chrissie’s husband Denny is admiring Freddie’s extensive vinyl record collection as he sips a hot chocolate and compulsively strokes his green-and-red striped tie. Tiffany the cat rolls around between his feet and occasionally hisses or gnaws on an ankle, which Denny takes in stride, as he does most things.

Meanwhile, you and Chrissie are camped out by the wet bar, drinking mulled wine and nibbling on cookies shaped like snowmen and reindeer. You give Veronica a wide berth with the children anytime you’re in the same space; she hates you, and she’ll probably always hate you, but she loves her children too much to poison them with that reality. Their happiness is her whole life, her purpose. And that’s the only thing that finally convinced her to come to the bargaining table.

“She seems...nice,” you tell Chrissie, gesturing to where Anita is crouching to wrestle a Yoda piggy bank away from Antoni before he can lob Teddy on the head with it. To John’s children, Veronica is “mum” and you’re the distinctly more American “mama”; and no one ever really taught them that, they just started doing it somewhere along the way.

Chrissie rolls her eyes and shifts Stevie to her other hip. For two and a half years after leaving Brian, Chrissie made it her mission to date at least one man from every country in Europe. She managed to cross off Ireland, France, Germany, Austria, Italy, Sweden, Switzerland, Portugal, Poland, and Greece before meeting professional archer Dennis Clarke at the 1984 Olympics in Los Angeles. They got engaged at Christmas, eloped on New Year’s Day, and had a daughter that Chrissie named after Stevie Nicks nine months later. Stevie Clarke has adorably chubby baby legs, wide blue eyes, and blonde hair without a single spiraled ringlet.

“My therapist said I needed to cultivate a rapport with Brian for the good of the kids,” Chrissie says. “You know. Be the bigger person. Get amnesia and forget about how he made my life a living hell. Act like I don’t want to freaking decapitate him. So I, trying to be nice, trying to rise above and make polite small talk with my nauseating ex-husband, made a comment about how much I liked EastEnders. So he starts watching EastEnders. Then he begins to fancy one of the actresses. Then he meets her at a movie premier in Beverly Hills and invites her to the concert at Wembley. Then he ends up in love with the woman. What the fuck. You couldn’t write this shit.”

“Love is a roulette wheel,” you agree.

Chrissie scoffs sardonically. “Yeah. Russian roulette, maybe.”

After his marriage fell apart, Brian bounced between New Orleans and London, liberated bliss and aimless, disgraced, black depression. Whoever Peaches is as a person, she couldn’t tame Brian’s demons. You worried about him almost constantly until he started seeing Anita. She’s cheerful and magnetic and persistently hopeful in a way that reminds you of Roger. She’s good for Brian. She’s good for all of you. Well...Chrissie is still coming around to the idea.

“I do like that she wasn’t fucking my husband behind my back,” Chrissie muses. “So that’s something.”

“And she’s good with the kids.”

“True...”

“And her hair matches Brian’s.”

Chrissie laughs. Her sparkling ornament earrings jangle, and Stevie paws for them with minuscule, uncoordinated, wrinkly hands. “Okay. You win. I don’t despise her.”

“That’s the Christmas spirit.” You knock back the rest of your mulled wine. “I’m gonna go search the refrigerator for cheese cubes, you want anything?”

“Yeah, a Valium.”

“Slavic Jesus would be horrified. And on his birthday!”

Chrissie grins. “Surely drugs would be the least of our sins.”

Freddie’s sunshine-yellow refrigerator is enormous and a labyrinth of shelves and crevices without a single tray of cheese cubes in sight. You sift through jars of olives, bottles of champagne, a glazed ham waiting to be put in the oven, a sack of yams, eggnog, rising bread dough, and numerous pies—apple and cherry and lemon chiffon, naturally—swathed in aluminum foil.

“Damn,” you mutter, and then you try a mysterious drawer beneath the double doors of the refrigerator. Lo and behold, it contains a sprawling tray of cheeses. “Yaaaaassssss.” You lift the tray out, set it on the kitchen counter, and peel back the clear, clinging saran wrap. As you spear cheese cubes with a decorative toothpick—the handle is a little plastic Christmas tree—and plop them onto an appetizer plate, you hear the click of heels on the hardwood floor behind you.

You glance back. “Hi, Dom. Can I offer you any of Fred’s extremely expensive and exotic cheeses?”

“Sure,” she replies in that effortlessly elegant French accent; but that’s not why she’s here. She’s wringing her delicate hands, which are bronzed from her last holiday to Ibiza and ringless. Dom divorced the husband she had back in France—or maybe he divorced her, who knows, that’s not your business, although Roger would tell you if you ever asked—and she and Roger signed papers for the good of their daughters. But being Roger Taylor’s wife is not always such an easy thing.

“He’s getting bad again, isn’t he?” you ask softly.

Dominique nods; but you already knew.

Roger was perfect for years after they had Violet: attentive, content, startlingly domestic. He rarely popped pills. He went to physical therapy. He quit smoking six months ago at Dominique’s insistence, around the same time John quit for you. But since the Magic Tour ended in August—and with no new tour in sight, considering Freddie’s seeming reticence about scheduling another—he’s started to drink more, stay home less, disappear at night citing dinners or parties or recording sessions that Dom isn’t invited to. He’s edgy and irritable. He’s rarely home when John calls. And you can see all those immortal shadows of imperfection creeping back into him like storm clouds, like smoke.

“I’m going to tell you something,” you say. “It’s very similar to what somebody else once told me. I wasn’t ready to understand it yet, to really let myself feel it, to believe it, but you might be able to.”

She watches you with those vast oil-well eyes, biting her lower lip, waiting.

“Roger is wildfire. He’s bright, yes, he’s warm, but he’s reckless and insatiable too. He always has been. He always will be. And that has nothing at all to do with you. It’s not your fault. He’s wonderful, of course, and you already know that; he dazzles people, he makes life so exhilaratingly beautiful that you forget what it felt like without him. But he’ll always disappoint you. He’ll relapse, he’ll cheat, he’ll come home late, he won’t come home at all. And he’ll hurt you. He’ll do it as many times as you’ll let him. But here’s the thing other people won’t tell you.” You smile at her, with empathy, with sorrow, with hope. “It might still be worth it.”

Dominique blinks, not understanding.

“It might be enough for you to only ever have part of him, because that part is so incredibly brilliant. It was almost enough for me. And I would never blame you for leaving Roger. But I wouldn’t blame you for staying either.”

And then you embrace her, and she latches onto you, her long manicured nails nipping through your sweater, her Coco Chanel perfume a plume that fills the kitchen. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. You hold her until she pulls away, swiping at her tearing eyes with slim fragile fingers, sniffling, looking away to hide her heartbreak behind her shock of glossy bangs.

“Here.” You pile an appetizer plate high with cheese cubes and shove it into her hands.

Stunned, she giggles. “All my woes have vanished.”

“That’s exactly how stolen cheese works,” And then, seriously: “Don’t be sad on Christmas, Dom. There’s plenty of time for that later. And I’ll do everything I can to help him.”

“That’s why you’ll never leave the band, isn’t it? You can’t leave Roger alone. You can’t let him destroy himself.”

“I owe him,” you say simply. “Without him I never would have followed Queen to London. I never would have found this family. I never would have married John. Roger took things from me, yes, of course he did. He took until I felt empty. But he also gave me the world.”

She nods slowly, thoughtfully.

“Please, Dom. Go enjoy yourself.”

“Alright. Joyeux Noël.” She gives you a parting wave and slips back out into the living room, where Freddie is now playing the grand piano and signing Thank God It’s Christmas. Roger is assisting in an increasingly hoarse falsetto.

A moment after Dominique leaves, John strolls into the kitchen, humming merrily. He stops dead when he sees your somber face, your shining eyes. “Who do I have to fuck up?”

You chuckle and shake your head. “No one. I just heard something sad.”

“Not about you, I hope.”

“No, I don’t have many sad stories anymore.”

“Yeah, me either.”

He reaches out to take your hand. A sapphire glints on your left ring finger, and it means everything.

“You sure you don’t need me to torment anyone for you? I could get drunk and plow my Benz into their house. Or write a scathing diss track about them. Was it Brian? Please tell me it was Brian.”

You laugh and twirl a lock of his fluffy hair. “That won’t be necessary.”

“In that case, you’re needed in the living room immediately,” John says, smiling. “Antoni climbed halfway up the Christmas tree and says he won’t come down for anyone except his mama.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s November 3rd, 1999, and Roger, John, and Brian are promoting Queen’s upcoming compilation album, Greatest Hits III.

Interviewer, daytime television host Brad Chenoweth: “Today we have a very special treat for our viewers. Here with us in our London studio are the men of Queen: guitarist Brian May, drummer Roger Taylor, and bassist John Deacon. Good morning, and thank you all so much for being here.”

Brian: “It’s our pleasure.”

Roger: “I do screams as well as drums, Brad.”

Interviewer: “Hahaha, yes, of course. Now Queen has had an extremely busy year, and this Greatest Hits album has a few new selections on it, right? Take us through that process.”

Brian: “It does have a few new tracks, that’s correct. You know, ever since Freddie...ever since we lost Freddie Mercury, I mean, you know, it’s impossible to fill a space like the one that he left in the world.”

Roger: “Yes, yes.”

Brian: “But as difficult as it was, after finally finishing Made In Heaven in 1995 and getting it just right, feeling as if we had really done Freddie justice...we were left with this distressing feeling of ‘what’s next?’ What are the three of us supposed to do with ourselves? Split up and never work together again? Retire to the seashore? Open up some corner store to putter around in until we die?”

Roger: “A clog shop, perhaps.”

Interviewer: “You were thinking, ‘well hell, we’ve got plenty of talent ourselves!’”

Roger: “Well, talent, yes, but also energy. Drive. We’ve been working at being one of the best bands in the world for almost thirty years now, Brad. I wouldn’t even know how to begin to stop.”

Brian: “None of us wanted to stop, we came to that realization. And so we’ve done a tremendous amount of benefit concerts and recording sessions with some of the best artists of our time, and I think people who listen to this album are really going to appreciate that. We’ve got a live version of Somebody to Love with George Michael, and The Show Must Go On with Elton John, he’s just lovely to work with...oh and a rap version of Another One Bites The Dust with Wyclef Jean, which John was not exactly a fan of. But we all have to learn to give and take, don’t we?”

Interviewer: “Absolutely, and I’m really looking forward to getting my hands on a copy of this record. Is there any chance Queen might settle on a permanent new front man one day?”

Roger: “If we can ever find somebody John likes enough!”

Interviewer: “But, truthfully...none of you wanted to quit after Freddie passed away? It was a unanimous decision to keep with it?”

Roger: “Essentially, yes. I mean I think it was an all or nothing deal, wasn’t it? If one of us left then that would throw the whole thing off. I was always adamant from very early on in the band’s lifetime that I wouldn’t be interested in continuing without John. And I couldn’t imagine him and Brian being left alone together, my god, there’d be literal bloodshed, someone’s throat would be cut within the hour, believe me.”

John: “We might have lasted a day or two. But yes, it was more or less unanimous.”

Interviewer: “Now you’ve always been known as the quiet, domestic one, John. You weren’t tempted by the thought of retirement? Not even for a moment?”

John: “Well...I think it depends on the circumstances, really. I like working, and I like touring and traveling a good part of the year. But I imagine I’d get very homesick if I was alone on the road. Fortunately, that’s not the case. So the thought of retirement didn’t appeal to me nearly as much as it might have otherwise.”

Interviewer: “That’s right, I understand that your wife has been Queen’s touring nurse for...how long now? Twenty years?”

John: “Since 1974, so that’s twenty-five years.”

Roger: “Wow. It’s been that long?!”

Brian: “Feels like yesterday, doesn’t it?”

Interviewer: “How lucky for you, John. And look, you’re beaming!”

Roger: “Get it together, Deaks.”

John: “I’m an astronomically lucky man. It’s like having home with you anywhere in the world.”

Roger: “She’s good for curing hangovers as well, so that’s useful. And she knits everyone hats.”

Interviewer: “And you’ve got children, haven’t you John?’

John: “Four from my first marriage, yes. They’re all adults now so they come to visit us quite often, especially when we’re travelling. It worked out beautifully really, because they’re very close to their mother, of course, but my wife and I got together when they were all still fairly young, and so she’s always been there for them as they’ve grown up. My youngest especially was a rather...how would you say it diplomatically? A spirited child. But he warmed to her right away.”

Brian: “All the children are still friendly with each other as well, mine and Roger’s and John’s.”

Interviewer: “One big happy family, huh?”

Roger: “There are still a good amount of screaming matches between us dads, to be completely forthcoming.”

John: “You have to keep things interesting.”

Roger: “Exactly!”

Interviewer: “Yes, one can sense that there are still plenty of egos in this room, even after all these years! Tell me, Queen is nearly three decades old now, a worldwide phenomenon, the second-bestselling artist in the UK of all time behind the Beatles...how have you stayed together for so long when most bands last only a fraction of Queen’s lifespan?”

John: “Well I think we’ve all, you know, for the good of the band we’ve all had to grow towards each other to bridge the disagreements and keep peace. For example, I’ve had to learn to be more communicative, more open to collaboration and change. I can be someone who’s very comfortable being in the background. But then I’m resentful if people don’t see my point of view, even if I haven’t properly expressed it. So I have certainly had to work on that quite a lot.”

Brian: “Yes, John, I think that’s very true. Personally, I’ve had to learn to not get lost in the details so much. I have a bad habit of getting so fixated on something that I cause a massive row over a vanishingly small aspect of a song that no one else will ever notice. It’s just not worth the strife. So I’ve really tried to avoid that. Although, I’ll admit it, I still occasionally cause my share of drama.”

John: “Oh, sure.”

Roger: “And I’ve had to work on being less...”

John: “Annoying?”

Brian: “Combative?”

Roger: “Fiery.”

John: “That’s one word for it.”

Interviewer: “Was there ever a time when Queen’s existence was in serious jeopardy? And if so, how did you pull through?”

Brian: “Well, to be perfectly honest, as a band we went through quite a difficult time in the early 80s. And then we did again in the early 90s. And on both occasions there was a real worry that Queen might be over and we would all go our separate ways. But what kept us together through that...and feel free to disagree, Rog, John, if you have a different perspective...but what I feel kept us together was this profound sense of family. Queen predates all of our marriages, our children, our successes in the music industry or otherwise. It has become a constant place of belonging in the midst of professional and personal turmoil. And now our partners and children have been integrated into that network as well, so even if an individual relationship is strained or falls apart, the gravity of the band keeps us all in a perpetual symbiotic orbit. And I don’t see that ever ending.”

John: “Yes, well, I suppose that about sums it up, doesn’t it?”

Roger: “Bleeding christ, Brian. ‘Perpetual symbiotic orbit.’ Just say we’re friends, you pretentious twit.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s August 19th, 2020, and John’s 69th birthday party is winding down as the sun dips lazily into the rust-colored western horizon.

You’re standing on the cobblestones in the garden behind the Surrey house. You had always thought it was too extravagant, too massive; it wasn’t until Roger sold it to you and John in the spring of 1982 that you realized it was the perfect size after all. Six bedrooms meant one for each of the children, one for you and John—the one with the blue-grey wallpaper and nautical decorations, to be exact—and the last for when Chrissie and Denny or Roger and Dom stay the night, which is fairly frequently. Your vacation home, where you and John spend most of the summer when Queen isn’t on tour, is a little country cottage in the sunlit Alpine hills of Florence, Italy. John designed it himself, every last detail; right down to the white picket fence grown over with ivy.

“Look what we got in the mail.” You hold up the invitation to show your husband, grinning, raising your eyebrows. “Guess we have to buy him another toaster.”

He reads the names on the shimmering cardstock patterned with jungle ferns and dinosaur footprints. Interesting choices. “Is Ben actually going through with it this time?”

“John!”

“Wasn’t he supposed to marry some Italian heiress or something?”

“Love can be complicated, Mr. Deacon,” you remind him.

When he smiles, crinkles spring up around his eyes. “Yes, I suppose it can be.”

“Ben Hardy’s having another wedding?” Chrissie calls over from where she’s shooting arrows at the archery targets set up in the backyard. Denny periodically steps in to correct the angle of her wrist or elbow. “And Queen’s invited this time?”

“Apparently,” you reply. “You could go too if you were still married to Brian.”

“Ha!” Chrissie cackles and looses an arrow. It hits damn near the bullseye. “Not worth it.”

“I’ll bring back all the scandalous gossip I can scrounge for you.”

“You better. What do the kids call it now? Spilling the tea? Spill all the tea, bitch.”

“Oh, kettles and kettles’ worth.”

“So a teapot,” John says. “Not another toaster. Maybe decorated with...” He squints at the invitation again. “What’s the theme? What do they like? Fossils? Brontosauruses?”

“Bizarre people,” Chrissie mutters.

“I’ll figure something out,” you say. “Something special. Something old.”

“John?” Brian shouts from the doorway that leads into the kitchen. Inside the refrigerator is covered with sketches and birthday cards and photographs curling and fading around the edges. “Anita and I are heading out now, can we get a hug goodbye?”

“Ugh,” John jokes. “Well, alright.” He gives you a wink as he trots off.

The Surrey house isn’t exactly roaring—John has never been one for crowds, and incidentally neither have you—but it is alive with his children and grandchildren and life-long friends. Not just his, you correct yourself. Ours.

Veronica—once Tetzlaff, then Deacon, then Tetzlaff again, and finally Kowalski—is not in attendance. You see her only at holidays and birthday celebrations for the kids and grandchildren, and even then only in passing. She is still cold towards you, resentful, extremely Catholic...although somewhat less dogmatic since her second husband Ivan, a former priest, left the Church to marry her. When the last of her children were grown, Veronica got certified to be a doula and now primarily serves unwed mothers seeking assistance from Catholic charities in London. She mentioned to Chrissie, who later told you, that something you had once done for her had inspired her to pursue it. That’s the only nice thing you’ve heard her say about you in almost forty years.

Roger wanders over to meet you, nursing a Heineken, stroking his white beard with his free hand. He and Dominique have always been off and on—including a few years in the late 80s when he moved out of their three-story Kensington townhouse and had a daughter called Adeline with some leggy, platinum blonde supermodel—but these days they’re mostly on. He and Dom had two children after their reconciliation: a son, Blaise, and a daughter named by Freddie after the Japanese word for tiger, Tora.

You gaze out into the sunset. Half of the garden is flooded with white calla lilies, a new bouquet for every February 15th since 1978.

“You’ll be sending back an RSVP in the affirmative?” Roger asks.

“Of course! Any excuse to visit the States. And I like Ben. Although he doesn’t look anything like you.”

He groans. “Those wigs, bloody hell.”

“It’s like they produced a whole movie just to have an excuse to make fun of your atrociously crunchy bleached hair.”

“And I bet you enjoyed that.”

“You deserved it.” When Freddie’s health began to fail and Queen stopped touring, you went back to school to get a degree in physical therapy. You and Roger have sessions three times a week, provided he’s on the wagon; and he usually is, nowadays. When he’s not, John’s the one to get the call from Dominique, and he hunts Roger down, convinces him to come home, works whatever quiet, soothing magic he carries around in his deep pacific blood. But right this moment, Roger is awfully quiet himself. His large, pale eyes—like clear water, like unraveling delphiniums, like the harmony that only comes when age burns away all those last entrenched talons of bitterness, of fear—skate over the calla lilies.

“Do you think things would have been different for us?” Roger asks softly. “If she had lived.”

It took you a long time to understand why Roger was in no hurry to get a divorce, to move you out of the Surrey house. They were the only ties he thought he had to anchor you to the band, to him. They were the only cards he thought he had to play to keep you in his life in any capacity. But John fixed that dilemma. He can fix just about anything, you’ve learned.

“No,” you tell Roger. “You would have worn me down eventually. You and your drinking and drugs and late nights and interminable recklessness. It might have taken longer, but we always would have ended. And John always would have been my home. She wouldn’t have kept us together. She just would have lived. And I wouldn’t have loved her for being a part of you. I would have loved her for whoever she was, whoever she grew up to be. But now I’ll never know who that would have been. I love the children I have, Roger, I do. But I still miss her, miss the person she would have been. It’s like chasing a shadow. It’s like a page of a book written in a language I can’t read. And it’s a feeling that never quite goes away.”

He smiles at you wearily, immensely sad, full of perfect understanding. “I know.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s October 10th, 2020, and the reception is held under shedding autumn leaves the color of rubies and imperial topaz and amber and yellow jade. The exuberant bride and groom weave through the crowds milling about the quaint farm, which is nestled in the hills of a small town in Northern California called Zenia. It belongs to Gwilym, apparently, and he and his flame-haired girlfriend Shiloh are shuttling tirelessly this way and that making sure everything goes according to plan. They don’t speak much to Ben or his new wife directly—there’s a stiltedness there, an uncomfortable period of readjustment that reminds you of how John and Roger were for a while after all the secrets came out—but there is undeniable kinship as well. Love can be complicated, you find yourself thinking, for the innumerable time. But that doesn’t mean it’s not real.

Making the rounds with the bride and groom is a strikingly beautiful, dark-haired boy who wears a miniature suit and a perpetual, mischievous grin. The new Mrs. Hardy almost always has her hand on his shoulder, his back, wiping cake frosting from his cheeks, ruffling his hair.

“Eli is kind of a demon kid,” Joe Mazzello warns you. “But in the best possible way.”

“Hm. I have somewhat of an affinity for demons myself.”

“Clearly,” Roger quips, sipping pink champagne. The snack table is Halloween-themed and extremely casual: Cheetos and pumpkin pie and caramel apples and dinosaur-shaped brownies. Per usual, you’re grazing through an orange paper plate stacked high with enough nibbling material to keep any undesirable small talk at bay. But strangely, in all of the times you’ve crossed his path since Bohemian Rhapsody’s filming began, you’ve never minded chatting with Joe.

“Yeah, you two were married at some point, right?” Joe asks. Then he immediately blanches. “Oh my god. That was so rude. I did not just say that. I’m so sorry. I saw it on Wikipedia. I’m gonna go drown myself in the stream now.”

“No, you’re right!” you admit in a peal of laughter. “Briefly and disastrously.”

“It wasn’t that disastrous,” Roger protests, thieving a Cheeto off your plate. He misplaced his prescription sunglasses on the flight over and is thus relatively helpless.

“Rude. Get your own. They’re over on the other end of the table.”

“I can’t see that far—!”

“Dom?” you call as she sashays over in a flowing white dress and licking a stick of orange rock candy. “Please control your husband.”

She smiles. “If I haven’t managed it yet, I don’t think there’s much hope.” She nods to Joe. “It’s so nice to see you again. Meeting you people was the only bright spot of that whole movie ordeal.”

“What, you didn’t fancy it?” Roger jests.

“At least they included you,” you tell Dom, smirking. “They ignored my existence entirely. They threw in some random woman with zero lines and called her Veronica in the credits. Whatever.”

Dom rolls her expressive umber eyes. “Yes, how flattering, I was in two scenes and one of them involved a joke about Roger cheating on me.”

“You’re a star, baby,” you say. “Deal with it.”

Dom smacks your arm playfully. She may be annoyed, but it doesn’t pain her the way it used to. She’s had decades of practice.

“The script could have been better,” Joe concedes. Then he spies John as he approaches, almost drops his caramel apple, waves frenetically. “Hi, Mr. Deacon! Hi!!”

“Wonderful job with all of this, Joe.” John shakes his hand as Joe gapes at him, starstruck. He’s always like that around John, appreciative, in awe, acutely aware of John’s legendary place in rock and roll history; and you love that someone besides you and Roger look at him that way.

“Thanks, I did it myself. Just kidding. It was 99% Gwil.”

“Well, I’ll still get you front row seats at the next Queen + Adam Lambert show.” It had taken a long time for John to find a front man he liked...a long time. He drove Roger and Brian insane. He kept saying he wanted someone who was like Freddie and yet simultaneously not trying to be Freddie, someone genuinely kind and charismatic and empathetic, an otherworldly talent, a natural performer. And then, on an unassuming spring night in 2009, they found him.  

Joe claps a palm on John’s shoulder and grins, his eyes glistening. “I’m obsessed with this little old guy! Obsessed, I tell you!”

“You want to see how old he is?” Roger teases. “Lift up that hand-knit hat and see what’s underneath. I’ll give you a hint. Not much.”

“At least I made it through the 90s without requiring hair plugs,” John counters.

“It was from all the bleaching!!”

“Hi, Rog!” Ben shouts as he rushes to embrace Roger, nearly knocking him off his feet. Mrs. Hardy is still across the field, talking to Brian, Anita, Rami, and Lucy, and trying to convince Eli not to crawl into a chocolate fountain.

Ben Hardy has always been somewhat of an enigma to you, mostly because he’s nothing at all like Roger. He’s subterranean-voiced and emerald-eyed and brooding and guarded and seems so much older than his twenty-nine years, and then every once in a while someone will come along and light him up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Unlike Roger, Ben doesn’t light up for many people. He does for his son Eli, of course, and for Joe Mazzello...and for his new wife. He lights up for her like fucking wildfire.

“Ben,” you say, holding out a bag speckled with black cats. “I have our gift for you.”

“You shouldn’t have! Thank you so much.”

“You can’t thank us until you open it,” John chastises.

So Ben does. Inside is an album of hundreds of photos you’ve taken of Queen since Roger bought you your first Canon for Christmas in 1974: pictures that have never been released publicly of the boys at the Rainbow, at the Budokan, in Rome, in Boston, in Japan, in New Orleans, at Montreal, at Madison Square Garden, at Live Aid, at the Surrey house, at Montreux. Interspersed are some of John’s sketches, the only ones you can bring yourself to part with: close-ups of a long-haired Freddie drawing on messy eyeliner, Roger adjusting his sunglasses with a cigarette smoldering between his fingers, Brian tuning his Red Special.

“Oh my god,” Ben whispers.

“Most of those are very old,” you explain. “And I heard you both like old things.”

“We definitely do.” He hugs you, suddenly and fiercely and warmly; and you catch a glimpse of what it must be like to be one of the few people that he allows to truly know him, those shadowed depths to balance Joe’s uncomplicated light.

Maybe that’s it, you realize. Maybe Joe is more like Roger and Ben like John.

The wedding playlist is exclusively classic rock songs: the Doors and Aerosmith and Fleetwood Mac and Led Zeppelin and Queen. As A Kind Of Magic ends, the eerie opening notes of Hotel California ripple out over the breezy autumn fields.

“Not this fucking song!” Roger cries.

Joe turns to you, confused.

“LSD,” you inform him. “1977. I would not recommend it.”

“Noted.”

Roger continues, rubbing his forehead: “It makes me think of...freaking...weird, creepy shit...like swimming at night through cold water. But I just keep swimming and can’t get anywhere.”

“It makes me think of sharks,” you say. “Maybe they’re related.”

“Freddie always said it made him think of birds,” John sighs. “And the color blue.”

The three of you pause, nodding, remembering.

Joe frowns solemnly, peering down at his shoes. “I’m sorry I never got to meet him.”

“He would have adored you,” you say.

“Really?”

“Are you kidding?! You would have been best friends. Always looking out for people. Always plotting the next escapade. That charming chaotic energy. The utter inability to bake anything.”

“Awwww.” Joe beams, delighted. “I fucking love you guys.”

“That’s the thing,” Roger says. “People don’t realize it. We’re more of a family than a band. We find people we take a shine to like ancient treasure, snatch them up, sand away all their rough edges, show them everything the world has to offer. And if they can survive the casualties of stardom, that trial by fire, they become permanent. They grow like roots into our blood, our bones...and perhaps we claim a part of theirs as well. They become things we can’t live without.”

“And once you’re in the family,” John tells Joe with a fond, crafty smile. “You can never leave.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 43

Title: Revelations

Warnings: profanity, angst

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @miss-smutty, @tragiclyhip​

He’s out the door by five thirty in the morning; leaving behind the warmth and the comfort of his home and making the five block trek to the Hudson River. With no fresh snowfall, the sidewalks and streets are remarkably clear; milder than normal temperatures slowly melting the waist high banks and turning patches of ice into puddles of muck and slush. His strides are long and purposeful. Soles of his runners crunching as they pass over neatly and tightly packed snow; following the foot tracks that earlier pedestrians have left behind. Chin tucked into his chest and his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie; anxious to get to his destination and start the day off in the right frame of mind. The headphones worn over a black beanie render him oblivious to sounds of life taking place around him ; the pounding of the music blocking out the sounds of traffic and the rattles and bangs that accompany the city garbage trucks. While he doesn’t make eye contact with those he passes, he notices the nods of greeting; meeting them with the brief turning up of the corner of the mouth and a slight head nod of acknowledgment. It’s what he enjoys most about the area and what eventually sold him on the idea of buying the brownstone; people are friendly enough to smile or offer a quick ‘good morning’, but don't possess enough curiosity to actually stop and speak.

He’s never been a social butterfly. Popular in high school, he’d blended in easily with the ‘jocks’ simply because of his athletic prowess and fairly good looks; girls wanted to date him, guys wanted to befriend him and hang out and attend beach parties. And while he’d followed the mantra ‘fake it until you make it’ and managed to stay quietly on the sidelines, he’d never been entirely comfortable with his status as one of the ‘cool kids’. The guy who’d get irritated when his buddies would make fun of the less popular kids; easily flying off the handle and calling them out on their shit if they said anything degrading towards the special needs students or dared to lob sexual comments towards females. He’d felt more in tune with the ‘loners’; the ones who’d hang out in the back of the cafeteria with their noses shoved in books or who’d eat their lunch sitting in front of their lockers.

It’s how he’d met his ex wife; a newly arrived grade nine student whose family had just moved Port Douglas from Perth. Taller than most females he’d ever encountered, she’d had a thicker build that both guys and girls consistently made fun of; broad shoulders and muscular legs and well defined arms. Shy and soft spoken and never making eye contact with anyone in the hall; thick, wavy blond hair falling over her face as she ignored the whispers and the stares and kept her books and binders clutched tightly to her chest. He’d been the first student to approach her; the last football player to leave practice and finding her sitting on a curb outside of school, waiting for a ride that was running late. And she’d seemed both stunned and terrified when he actually spoke to her; standing above her still clad in his now muddy and sweat soaked practice gear, helmet tucked under one arm and his backpack slung over a shoulder. Introducing himself and offering both a hand in greeting and a ride home; quickly discovering that she had a beautiful smile and the most stunning green eyes he’d ever seen. And she’d made him feel things that none of the other girls ever had; never experiencing that immediate and intriguing spark with any of the prom queens or the cheerleaders that he’d attempted relationships with in the past.

“I know who you are,” she’d said, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears. It had shimmered in the sunlight; the lightest and most beautiful shade of blond that he’d ever laid eyes on. “Everyone talks about you. You’re like the most popular guy in school. Yet you don’t act like that. You’re not a total ass to people. You’re different.”

It had been the first time that anyone had ever told him that. Truly believing that the company he’d kept had painted him in a far different light. Guilty by association because those he hung around were boisterous and crude; convinced that being good at sports meant they ran the school and didn’t have to show respect to anyone. And it had made him feel good; being seen as kind and compassionate doing wonders for his ego in a way no touchdown or goal scored ever could.

She’d accepted his ride home that night. And the request for a date before she slipped out of the car. Two weeks later they were inseparable and considered themselves ‘exclusive’; holding hands in the hall and having lunch together every day and spending nearly every waking hours outside of school with one another. He was convinced that he met the love of his life and that she’d be the one he’d marry and have a family with. Grow old with.

It had started out well; a brief engagement and married only a week after graduation. She’d been certain she could handle the life of a soldier's wife; he was new to the military but extremely committed and determined to make a lifelong career out of it. And for the most part they’d been happy; a little house not far from his home base, a tight circle of both military and civilian friends, the honeymoon stage lasting well into the second year. Everything changed once he received his first deployment; eight weeks in Afghanistan that quickly turned into six months. When he’d returned home, he’d begun hearing the rumours; she was angry at his absence and his inability to call home on a regular basis and sought solace in the arms of not just one man, but many. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, and she’d been convincing when he’d confronted her about it; pledging her undying love for him and assuring him -with both words and her body- that he was the only man that she’d wanted.

He’d been an idiot. For years. So smitten that he hadn’t wanted to accept the truth and refused to walk away; seeing her as his ‘be all and end all’ and not wanting things to come to an end. He DID love her. Probably a lot more than she had ever loved him. He’d been so terrified of abandonment, that he’d held on even tighter; he’d lost the only other woman he’d ever loved at a very early age and couldn’t stand the thought of losing Sarah too. So he put up with it; sticking by her side no matter how many notches on the bedposts she lodged and no matter how rampant the rumours and the gossip became. Soon that love turned into resentment and sheer tolerance. Letting her live her ‘double life’; pretending to be a happy and adoring couple in public yet knowing she was off running around behind his back the second he was shipped off for a tour. His drinking became a problem; booze numbing the heartache and the loneliness and giving him an escape from the miserable reality of his life. And he’d been a week removed from filing for divorce when the pregnancy test came back; she was expecting a baby and she was adamant it was his despite all the evidence that told him there was no way he could possibly be the father. He couldn’t leave her like THAT. He’d be viewed as the bad guy; the asshole that had ended his marriage WHILE his wife was pregnant. So he’d changed his plans; vowing that he’d stay by her side no matter what and that he’d be the best father and family man he could possibly be.

He’d been in Iraq when Austin was born; informed of his son’s arrival while in Mosul and immediately sent home. And he’d known right away that the kid wasn’t his the second he’d looked at him; not a single feature that could be attributed to either father OR mother. But it hadn’t mattered. The second he’d held Austin in his arms and all of those tiny fingers had curled around just one of his, Tyler had made his decision; he’d stick around and be the boy’s daddy and love him a way he never thought it was possible to love another human being. He’d be the kind of father his kid could one day brag about; attentive and patient and compassionate. Never would he be like his old man. He would cut back on his drinking and get help with his anger management issues and his wife would never have to worry if he’d wander and find someone else; throwing himself one hundred percent into their marriage and in raising a family together. Even if it meant that he’d never be truly happy and that she’d continue her dalliances whenever he was stationed overseas. He’d stay committed to her no matter what; his son never having to grow up without both parents under the same roof or suffer from the trauma of being from a broken home.

The cancer had changed everything. The stress behind caring for a terminally ill child had brought out both his and Sarah’s true sides; they didn’t love each other and could barely stand being in the same room together and all of the pretending and the faking was just wearing them down and making things even worse. But he’d admired her; her commitment to caring for their rapidly deteriorating son, the steadfast determination to beat it ‘no matter what’, and the rock solid courage she displayed when it was evident Austin’s time on earth was coming to an end. And despite her mistakes and her failures as a wife, she HAD deserved better. She had needed a man that would support her; someone that would hold her while she cried and lift her up during the especially dark and trying times and would be by her side during funeral preparations. He’d failed her; running away when things became too painful to witness. And in the end, he’d failed his son as well. Leaving him alone and scared; his final moments on earth spent wondering what he’d ever done to make his father hate him THAT much.

It’s been seventeen years and sometimes it hurts just as much as it did the moment he got the news. The loss still painful and immense; a part of his heart forever torn out of his chest and never able to be put back into place. And it isn’t just the unexplainable and often unbearable sorrow that comes with losing a child; so powerful and pronounced it can bring even the toughest of men to their knees. It’s the guilt and the regret that continue to haunt and eat away at him; silent and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. It comes when he’s at his lowest; when the combined mental illnesses are rearing their ugly heads and threatening to drag him down. That’s when the voices come out to play; the cruel and the degrading whispers in his ears that insist he’s EXACTLY the monster that he’s made himself out to be. The kind that abandons those he loves when the going gets tough; physically brave, but an emotional coward. They remind him not only of the mistake he’d made with Austin but those he’d committed within the last twelve and a half years; the lies he told and the promises he broke and the times he raised his voice or put a fist through a wall. The moments he’d slipped and given in to his addictions; the fear of being a failure as a husband and father pushing him to not only the job, but the bottle and the pain meds as a form of coping and a means of escape.

Normally he’s able to fight those voices off; years of therapy -and an extremely patient and attentive wife- helping him develop healthy coping mechanisms. The water remains his favourite and most successful form of escape; the familiar scent of salt that hangs heavily in the air, the sounds of the waves as they roll up onto the shore, the sun's powerful and often punishing rays glistening on the rippling surface of the ocean. Sometimes it’s a couple hours spent surfing; the feel of the wind against his face and crispness of the water that seems to cleanse his very soul. There’s days where it’s as simple as a walk along the ocean line; the water lapping at his ankles, wet sand cushioning and moulding around his feet. Or a hike through the forest across from their home. Taking a well beaten path that snakes and winds through the dense gathering of trees and leads to a small clearing; a small wooden staircase he’d erected shortly after they’d moved into the house giving access to a patch of pristine, white beach. It’s a tiny piece of solitude; tucked away and unseen from even the edge of their main property. And they’ve ventured there together many times; taking along that faded and tattered plaid blanket and a picnic lunch and taking advantage of every minute of quality time granted to them. Reconnecting in many ways; playful bantering and light hearted teasing, deep and emotional chats revolving their respective childhoods and the shared loss of the only parent that had loved either of them. Even after twelve and half years there’s never a lull in conversation; always something new and long buried that’s brought to the surface and finally shared after decades of locking it away. It’s never boring when they’re together; a strong friendship and a unique and powerful bond -cemented during that difficult and terrifying time nearly thirteen years ago- serving as a stable foundation for everything else built upon it.

The riverfront is quiet. A half a dozen dog walkers and one lone jogger. The latter a middle aged woman in top of the line athletic gear that he’s encountered a handful of times over the past three years and always offers him a warm smile and a nod in greeting. He pauses at the railing; checking for any missed calls or text messages and taking his time to stretch and warm up. The body feels good today; the stiffness and the pain minimal, the warmer than usual temperatures keeping any arthritis flare ups at bay. There’s a distinct connection between his physical condition and his mental one. When his body feels healthy and he’s able to skip the daily cocktail of pain meds and exercises learned during physio, his mental condition isn’t as fragile. The burden of stress and torment that normally sits upon his shoulders suddenly seeming so much lighter; the usually bottomless and fermented wound in a long ago broken heart not seeming so gaping or festering. He feels energized and renewed; a deep and peaceful sleep and a pain free morning making him feel as if he’s prepared -mentally and physically- to take on the world. It’s still there; the black cloud of depression that hangs over him. But it doesn’t seem so ominous or menacing; those slivers of hope and positivity managing to sneak through.

He takes a moment to relish the view. The peek of the sun on the horizon, the glistening of the snow and the chunks ice that have taken up inhabitance on the surface of the Hudson, the faint glimmer that plays off the windows of the skyscrapers in the distance. There’s moments where he’s truly content here; enjoying the change of pace and admiring the vast differences between New York City and home. Today is one of those days; he feels secure in both where he is and WHO he is. A welcomed outsider as opposed to a strange and mysterious interloper. It’s a reminder that home is wherever his heart lies. His wife and his children sound asleep; warm and safe in their beds only blocks away.

SHE’S his heart; the person that came into his life and turned his world upside down and reminded him that he was still very much alive and had so much more living left to do. Showing him -for the first time in thirty five years- what it was like to be TRULY loved; wholly and completely and unconditionally. Someone so bright eyed and light in heart and spirit; managing to love life and everyone in it despite all of the pain and the suffering that they’d been put through. Giving him what he’d hadn’t even realized he needed; a normal life with everything familiar and mundane and domestic that came with it. Someone to wake up to in the morning; a sleepy smile and soft lips against his own, hands reaching for him and a warm body pressing against his. Going to bed with them every night; those remaining conversations that take place in a darkened, quiet room and the intimacy shared and the love and appreciation expressed.

Once more removing his phone from his pocket, he selects a different playlist and jacks the volume up on his headphones; drowning out the world around him and concentrating on nothing but breaking a sweat and pushing his body to its limits.

*****

It’s shortly after seven when he returns to Gramercy Park. Layers of clothing sticking to sweat soaked skin, beanie long discarded and shoved in his pocket; hair damp and sticking up in several different directions. The tips of his ears and his cheeks flushed from both the chill in the air and the effort and energy he’d put into his run; slow and steady at first, then legs and arms pumping as hard and powerfully as they possibly could. He feels invigorated; a level of energy and exuberance that he hasn’t encountered in weeks. Maybe even months. And it’s a welcome change. Feeling healthy AND content at the same time.

Before returning home he stops at the bodega at the end of the street; filling a basket with the various items Tanner had scrawled onto a post-it note he’d found attached to the fridge. The kid never fails to both surprise and amaze him; constantly finding recipes or ‘science experiments’ on the internet and always insisting on trying his hand at them. Forever curious; holding onto that innocence and that joy and wonder for far longer than any of his older siblings ever had. Phenomenally intelligent and talented; teaching himself how to play the guitar and the piano by ear, his paintings and drawings always appearing as if they’re done by someone so much older and possessing an experienced eye. Emotionally mature and wise, but socially lagging; unable to form friendships and constantly feeling awkward surrounded by groups of people and easily overwhelmed by too much activity and noise. Yet so empathetic and compassionate; easily and powerfully feeling other peoples’ emotions and his moods and behaviour dictated by the mere energies people give off when around him.

The bodega owner greets him with a broad smile and a friendly nod when he approaches the counter. A first name and very few details kind of friendship; Frank the sole proprietor and only full time employee since the store’s opening forty years ago. Short and stocky; a headful of curly salt and pepper hair and a thick moustache and a heavy Bronx accent. Both know very little about the other; talk mostly revolving around the weather and current events and Frank’s never ending curiosity about life in Australia and his overwhelming desire to visit and one day retire there.

“Alone today,” Frank comments, and moves to the small coffee bar -nothing more than a handful of machines and containers for milk and cream- behind the register. It’s an understanding between them; Tyler never needing to ask and Frank knowing his standing order. “That doesn’t happen often. Normally you’ve got at least one or two rug rats hanging off ya.”

“Gotta sneak out when I can.” He empties the contents of the basket onto the counter; the latter he stores in the rack at the end of the counter. “How’s business?”

“Quiet. Same thing every Christmas. The elite like to get away. They’re going to where you’re from, and your kind are coming here. Must be quite the culture shock, huh? Going from the sand and the sun to this crap?” It’s a typical conversation starter; the same opening question Tyler’s been asked every single visit for three years running.

“It’s a change, that’s for sure. Can’t say I wouldn’t rather be back in the sand and the sun. But…”

“But the kiddos and the sweetheart like it. I get it. When my daughter moved to Phoenix with her husband about ten years back, she insisted on coming back here every Christmas. Missed the cold and the white shit too much. Who the hell is crazy enough to miss THAT?”

“Wife says it’s the magic of the season. Wants the kids to experience it. White Christmas and all that. And they enjoy it; skating, sledding, snowball fights, all of that crap. If they’re happy, I’m happy.”

“I hear ya there. Makes a man’s life much more easy and relaxed, that’s for sure. If the littles and the wife are happy, things are a lot more pleasant, know what I’m saying?. They all doing well?”

“No complaints. Got spoiled at Christmas, Aunt’s coming to visit today, big brother’s getting married in three days…”

“Busy, busy. Not rest for the weary. How’s that cute little wife of yours?”

“Still little. Still cute.”

“How you holding up? Must be hard being away from home. From what you’re used to.”

“I miss it,” Tyler admits, and nods his appreciation for the coffee that’s set down in front of him; black, no sugar. “It’ll be nice to get back. It’s quieter there. No one really around. Just our own slice of paradise. Private. Just the way I like it.”

“You definitely are a stickler for your privacy, aren’t ya.”

“I’ve got my reasons. For keeping to myself.”

“Just not a people person, huh?”

“I like people. Some don’t like me. It’s better if they keep away. Especially from my family.”

Frank nods in understanding, then begins ringing up and bagging the purchases. “Gotta like a man that will defend and protect his own, no matter what.”

“You do what you gotta do,” Tyler reasons, reaching into the pocket of his hoodie when he feels his cellphone vibrate against him. Eyes narrowing and a frown playing on his lips when he reads the text sent by his wife; complaining about being woken up from a dead sleep by the ‘new nuisance in town’ repeatedly ringing the doorbell.

He was confident they’d seen and heard the last of Natalie. While he’d been grateful for her assistance in the American Girl store during Addie’s disappearance, he’d made it perfectly clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her. His already agitated and guilt stricken mood made even worse but yet another attempt on her part to proposition him; boldly stating in front of other customers and his children and granddaughter that while playing hard to get only made him sexier, it was time to put an end to the games. It was obvious -in her mind- that he was attracted to her and was only holding back out of a sense of loyalty and obligation to the woman who’d given him seven offspring.

The sex would be off the charts, Natalie had whispered in his ear, and brazenly attempted a crotch grab while waiting in line at the register. Not caring about the still sobbing Addie in his arms and tightly clinging to him, or the furious glares that Brookie was shooting in her direction. He hadn’t been kind in his rejection; angrily yanking her hand away with enough force to cause her to wince in pain and for his fingers to bruise the skin around her wrist. And he’d kept his tone low yet forceful when he’d told her to back off; he wouldn’t tolerate blatant disrespect towards his wife, especially in front of two of the children she’d not only hand in creating, but had carried inside of her.

“Bad news?” Frank inquires, and pushes the plastic bags across the counter.

“Something I’d rather NOT be dealing with.” He tucks his phone back into his pocket and checks the total on the register; pulling forty from his wallet and waving off the change when Frank begins to hand it over. “But it’s probably better in my hands that my wife’s.”

“Feisty little thing, ain’t she,” Frank chuckles. “I still remember when she told that one kid off for checking out your one girl. Your oldest. She was over there looking at the magazines, minding her own business, and some fucking high school joker was checking her out and making comments to his buddies. Your wife certainly isn’t afraid to mix things up, is she.”

“You don’t mess with a mumma bear. She’s tiny, but she’ll rip you apart,”

Frank grins, “Bet that makes you toe the line, huh?”

“I long ago learned what buttons NOT to push. She looks all cute and sweet and innocent, but trust me, that girl can fuck someone up. I’ll probably see you later.” He gathers up the bags in one hand, cup of coffee in the other. “TJ and Declan will want to come by. They also do when you get the new Archie comics.”

“Already put two aside from them. Gotta treat my best customers right. And speaking of that privacy you like so much…”

Tyler pauses in the doorway.

“You ain’t gonna like what I have to tell you.”

“Not when you put it like that I won’t.” He once more approaches the register. “What’s going on?”

“Someone’s been in here a few times asking about you. And your family. I meant to tell you yesterday, but you had the girls with you and I didn’t want to bring something up that might spook them or upset them.”

“Someone from the neighbourhood?”

“A newcomer. Some woman. Tall, blond, need a power washer to get all that crap off her face. Why do women do that? Why do they feel the need to smear on the war paint? Looking like damn clowns is what they look like. I don’t want to be stuck in the rain with a girl and turn around and look at her and find damn eyebrows washed away, know what I’m saying? Wake up next to them and all the makeup is gone and you no longer recognize them and you think some strange woman snuck into bed with ya in the middle of the night.”

“What did she want, Frank? What did she want to know?”

“Little questions, mostly. Mostly about you and your wife. How you met, what her name was before she met you, where she’s from originally, family life. That kind of thing. Wanted to know your last name but I told her I had no clue. First names only. That’s the way it’s always been.”

“Ask anything about my kids?”

“Just wanted to know their ages, school grades, stuff like that. I didn't have any info to give her and I told her that much. Also said even if I DID know, I wouldn’t cough it up to her or anyone else. Awful nosey, don’t you think? Trying to get up in a man’s business like that?”

“She’s definitely treading on thin ice. I appreciate it. That you wouldn’t tell her even if you did know that stuff.”

“Ain’t nobody's business what you do with your life. And it especially ain’t none of their concern when it comes to children. That’s just creepy as hell, if you ask me. Think she’s up to no good? Trying to cause trouble? With you and the missus?”

“I don’t know what she’s up to.” He moves towards the door. “I’ll find out though. One way or another. Thanks for letting me know. And for having our backs.”

“You and your family have been nothing but good to me, figure I should return the favour. Let me know how it turns out, would ya? Once you find out just what she’s up to. Inquiring minds want to know, and all.”

“I’ll let you know,” Tyler promises, and uses a forearm to push open the door.

“Hey!” Frank calls to him, and he pauses on the threshold. “What IS your last name?”

“Drummond.” The lie rolls easily off the tongue. Almost TOO easily.

“Tyler Drummond,” Frank nods as he considers it. “Got a nice ring to it. You know, you don’t look like a Tyler.”

“Yeah,” he grins, and steps out the door. “So I’ve been told.”

*****

He finds her in the kitchen. Back turned towards the doorway as she waits for the toaster to finish its cycle; repetitively tapping the end of a butter knife against the granite countertop as her body repeatedly shifts weight from one side to the other. Well known evidence of agitation and simmering anger; body always needing to be in motion, anxiety propelled nervous ‘tics’. She’s been fighting her own battle against mental illness for longer than he’s known her; the years of psychological torment inflicted by her mother -and eventually an emotionally, physically, and sexually abusive husband- leaving wounds far deeper and more punishing than anything his body has ever experienced. Medication and therapy have helped, as has finding her own ‘niche’ in the world beyond just being a wife and a mother; running her own business, a once weekly yoga and meditation class, her own strenuous workout plan that he’d helped her create. She’s always managed well considering; panic and anxiety attacks fairly uncommon and periods of deep and crippling depression far and few between.

While he always admonishes her for taking on too much and throwing herself into caring for others instead of herself, she swears that it helps; keeping her mind and her body occupied and not giving her a chance to sit still for too long and dwell on things. He’s sure there’s some PTSD in there. The incident on the Sultana Kamal Bridge still weighs heavily on her; unable to sit down and talk about it without having an emotional meltdown and suffering from the occasional night terror. But she always shrugs off the idea of additional help and supports; insisting she’s fine and just needs to keep busy and that things will pass. They always do. And even though she’s infamous for calling him the most stubborn human on the planet, he’s pretty sure that it’s HER that actually holds that title.

Per Tanner’s written instructions, he leaves the bodega purchases in their bags; carrying them into the pantry and placing them in a plastic tote box marked with his son’s name. The ten year old very particular and detail oriented; extremely neat and tidy and having his own anxiety attacks if anyone dares to upset his ebb and flow. For his seventh birthday, the only gifts he’d requested were a label maker and over two dozen food storage containers; adamant that those were the only things he wanted and didn’t care about the idea of a new bike or surfboard or the latest gaming system. Less than twenty four hours after receiving what he so desperately coveted, he’d used them to reorganize the pantry at home; everything stored in plastic containers and labelled appropriately and throwing a fit if anyone didn’t alphabetical order when putting things back on the shelves. THAT had prompted them to finally seek out a diagnosis for him. They had suspected it for years; Tanner sitting some place on the Autism spectrum. Yet it had still been hard to hear the words come out of the specialist’s mouth; fear and worry and concerns for his future flooding through them as they saw the words neatly printed out in their son’s medical chart.

“Everyone still asleep?” he inquires, as he finally approaches. Standing behind her with his hands on her hips; lips meeting the top of her head as his fingers gently knead the supple flesh. Even when -uncharacteristically- grumpy first thing in the morning, she is always at her most adorable; hair messy and face still puffy from sleep, petite frame clad in her infamous mismatched pyjamas. Today it’s a pair of scrubs with the word Columbia printed across the ass and a faded and tattered t-shirt from his side of the closet; miles too big on her yet somehow sexy at the same time.

“Thankfully. Takota woke up in a panic; the doorbell scared the ever loving shit out of him. You know how it is; things always seem a thousand times louder when you’re asleep. I cuddled with him for a bit; he’s passed out in the middle of our bed now.”

Draping an arm across her collarbone, he presses a kiss to her temple, then watches in amusement as she tends to the toasted bagel now sitting on the plate in front of her; putting enough force behind buttering it that the knife pierces the toast.

“You know…” his lips rest against the side of her head. “...you’re not supposed to stab the damn thing.”

“Better to stab this than walk down the street and stab that bitch in the fucking face,” she reasons. “I don’t think I’m in the position in my life where it would be a good idea to go to prison.”

“Definitely wouldn’t be ideal at this point and time. Not to mention you always complain about how shitty you look in orange. So how about we NOT stab anyone and try to rein in our homicidal tendencies?” Reaching around her, he wrenches the knife out of her shockingly tight and strong grip; completing the preparation of the bagel for her.

She tips her head back to look at him, smiling in appreciation. “I’m mad.”

“I can see that.”

“What is that woman’s major malfunction? Why is she so goddamn insistent on seeing you? I mean, I know you’re hot and the walking and breathing definition of masculinity and you’re enough to make even the old ladies all weak in the knees, but fuck…” she turns around to face him; plate in her hand as she leans back against the counter. “...she is WAY worse than any thirsty females on the playground or at the soccer park.”

“She’s something else alright.” He moves to the kettle boiling on the stove; snagging a clean mug from the drainboard by the sink and a tea bag from a canister on the counter.

“To show up here at all is a dumb ass thing to do. But at seven in the morning? Knowing there’s a house full of littles here? She has a kid of her own. I doubt she’d like if someone popped up on her doorstep and woke her crotch fruit up.”

“I don’t think she gives a shit, Me. About our kids OR her own.”

“She treats that kid like a goddamn accessory. Have you seen the way she dresses that little girl? Fur coats and Gucci and Chanel, a freaking bracelet and earrings from Tiffany’s. The kid even carries a bloody Birkin bag! She’s six! What the hell kind of parent buys stuff like that for ANY kid? Never mind a six year old.”

“A person with money to burn apparently.”

“WE have money to burn. And then some. Our kids wear clothes from Target. The occasional UnderArmour or Nike swag here or there. Most expensive thing on them is their shoes. And not even THOSE are over a hundred bucks.”

“Millie does have that expensive purse,” he points out, as he stands in front of the open fridge door and snags a carton of milk; dumping the preferred and required amount into the steaming mug of tea. “The pink one.”

“The Chanel. Yes, she does have that. And you know why she does? Because when Millie says ‘daddy, I really like that’, daddy goes ahead and buys it for her and doesn’t even bother to check the make or the price tag. That is SOLELY on you.”

“Daddy likes to spoil his girls,” he reasons, offering the mug as he rejoins her. “Especially the oldest one.”

“Millie always HAS been your favourite.”

“I meant YOU,” he presses a chaste peck to her lips when she turns her face up towards him. “Not Millie. I spoil you way more than I spoil any of those kids.”

“And how many times have you been told NOT to?”

“Way too many to count. How many times have I told you that I don’t give a shit what you say and that I’m going to keep on doing it?”

Smirking, she rips a piece of bagel off with her teeth. “Touche.”

“What did she want?” He stands next to her, palms resting on the edge of the counter. “The nuisance?”

“To be just that. A nuisance. I kept telling her you weren’t home. That you’d gone out for a bit. She wasn’t having any of it. Insisted that I was lying and accused me of being jealous and possessive and told me that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep you away from her. Something about 'you can’t stop what the heart AND the body want'.”

He gives a derisive snort.

“I don’t know. By that point I had already tuned out and was fantasizing about how I was going to kill her and dispose of her body. What the hell is her issue? I get that she has a raging female boner for you and in all fairness, I don’t blame her. But that woman is coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs. And I don’t use that term lightly. I save that for the REALLY crazy ones.”

“Did she say what she wanted? Why she even came over here?”

“You mean other than to jump on your dick? Or to convince me that you and her have some undeniable sexual chemistry and that you’re reluctant to leave me because I’m clingy and needy and have trapped you with half a dozen kids? Plus one.”

“She said that?”

“Every last word. Apparently you and her have really hit it off. There’s some kind of powerful and potent sexual and emotional connection between the two of you. News to me.”

“She’s fucking delusional. You realize that, yeah?”

“Big time delusional. I know what you’re like. I know how much you love me and your kids; how you’re unwaveringly faithful and loyal. I’ve never doubted any of that. I’ve never had a reason to. If you wanted out, you would have left a long time ago. You’ve had your chances.”

“I don’t want out. I’m all in. I’ve been all in for twelve and half years. I’m all in for the rest of my life. So sorry, Me. You’re stuck with me. Until the bitter end.”

“I can think of worse fates. But what the hell is her problem? Who does shit like this? Calling on another woman’s husband? Making up bullshit like that? Trying to cause problems between people?”

“A crazy person, that’s who. That’s all she wanted? To see me?”

“To give you Addie’s mitts back. I guess she left them at the American Girl store and crazy lady picked them up. Couldn’t she just leave them in the mailbox instead of showing up and ringing the doorbell at seven in the morning? Is that NOT what a normal person would do?”

“I think we’ve already established that she’s NOT normal.”

“You didn’t tell me she was there yesterday,” Esme sips at her tea. “At the American Girl place.”

“I thought I did.”

“That’s my sworn enemy. I would definitely remember if you told me something like that.”

Tyler shrugs. “Guess it just slipped my mind with everything else that was going. With Addie flipping out and me feeling like shit for losing it on her, telling you about the neighbour wasn’t the first thing on my agenda. I probably should have, but…”

“So she just happened to be there? At the American Girl lunch?”

“Yup. Showed up with her kid.”

“Kind of a coincidence, don’t you think? That she’d be there on the EXACT same day? I don’t mean to go all paranoid and possessive and jealous wife, but…”

“You’re not paranoid. And aren’t we all a little possessive? And jealous? When we love someone? I’m that way with you. I don’t like guys checking you out and making comments towards you and all that. And if that makes me possessive and jealous…” shrugging, he reaches for her tea and takes a sip.

“This woman has serious issues, Tyler. She’s nuts. Certifiably, I think. Didn’t you already tell her to leave you alone? That you’re married? Happily?”

“More than once.”

“Does she not realize some men actually DO value the sanctity of marriage? Mind you, it doesn’t seem like many these days, but still.”

“I don’t think that’s the kind of married men she’s used to, Me. I don’t think I fit HER definition of a married man. And it’s not for the lack of trying to scare her off. I’ve tried. Several times. Doesn’t seem to be getting through.”

“She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. Still, I don’t like someone pissing in my front yard. Continuously. Seems awful weird; her somehow showing up nearly everywhere you go. I can see the park being a one off; she was new to the community, saw a parent there and took it upon herself to try and make friends. But everything else? When you took the kids for lunch, when you and I were on our date; we SAW her watching us from her living room window. She didn’t hide it.”

“That was a little...odd,” Tyler admits.

“And how many times has she suddenly popped into the bodega when you’ve been there with the boys?”

“I’d say nine times out of ten.”

“That’s way too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“I do think that. I also think we need to talk about it. About all of this.”

“Oh God…” she grimaces. “...you ARE leaving me for her.”

“What?” He can’t help but laugh. “No, baby. NO. I am definitely NOT leaving you for her. For ANYONE. I already told you; I’m in this right to the end. Whenever that may be. There’s no one else, Me.” Draping an arm across her shoulders, he pulls her into him; lips meeting her temple and lingering for several seconds. “There’s just you. There’s always just been just you. Always will be.”

“And we need to talk about her because…”

“Because there’s more going on than you realize. More than just her showing up places.”

Esme frowns, mug poised at her lips. “Uh oh. I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

“Believe me, I don’t like it either. What’s going. But you’re right; that woman definitely DOES have issues.”

“Other than being a stalker you mean?”

“I don’t know EXACTLY what’s going on. Or how serious it is. But I don’t like it. What she’s up to.”

“And coming from someone with your instincts and your background? That’s saying something. Do I need to worry about it? Is it something we need to really watch out for and take seriously and…?”

"I honestly don't know, babe. But she knows stuff. About us. She somehow knows our name. Called me by first AND last yesterday. I've never told her what it is. And I highly doubt you did."

“I want to stab the woman in the face with a butter knife, so I think it's safe to say I’m NOT going to be out there telling her personal things. How WOULD she find that out? It’s not like it’s advertised anywhere. Frank doesn’t know it, Desi wouldn’t say anything.”

“She tried to blame TJ. Said she talked to him when he was out shovelling snow and that he coughed up the info. I confronted him and he denied it. Said that she DID stop to talk to him and all he told her was his first name. That’s it. Told me he knows better than that; not to tell strangers much about us.”

“TJ doesn’t lie. Not since he got caught...on camera...denting your truck and trying to tell me that it wasn’t him. He learned his lesson, believe me. And out of all the kids who would be a blabber mouth? He’s the last one. He idolizes you. The last thing he wants to do is piss you off or disappoint you. So when you tell him what to do or what NOT to do, he listens.”

“So how did she know? If neither of us told her and Desi didn’t say anything and we know it’s not TJ…”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t been around any of the other kids. They’d all say something. They’d tell us if she was asking questions.”

“She had to find out from somewhere. Someone had to tell her. It’s not like that info is just out there for anyone to look up. You don’t even use a real last name on the internet. We’ve been careful. We locked everything down five years ago. Made sure people couldn’t find shit out. But somehow…”

Sighing heavily, she carries her empty mug and dirty plate to the sink, then rejoins him; standing between his legs with her hands on his hips. “Do you think it's something serious? Something we need to worry about?”

“Are you asking me if I think she’s a threat?”

Esme nods.

“I don’t get that feeling from her. I don’t think she’s the type that gets her hands dirty. More the type that aids the person that does.”

“That sounds familiar. I distinctly remember someone else who used to do exactly that.”

“Let’s not compare the two of you. You’re nothing alike.”

“I used to help people get their hands dirty. I used to ask all the questions and find out all the info and then pass it along to guys like you. Sounds like she might be into the same kind of thing. Have you looked into her? Find out anything about her?”

“Not much to find out. Couple things here and there but nothing serious. I know she used to be in a relationship with the District Attorney in Chicago. There was a write up about it; the two of them at some charity event a few years back.”

“Is he the ex husband?”

“If he is…” he tucks her hair behind her ears, then cradles her face in his palms; thumbs repeatedly brushing against her cheeks. “...she’s never gone by his last name. I checked into that, too.”

“Maybe try Nik. She’s got a real knack of finding things about people. Things they’ve long kept buried. I’m sure she’d look into it. Probably have better luck than you.”

“If it comes to that, I’ll go in that direction. But I was thinking…”

She smirks. “I don’t think I like the way you said that...”

“...that if you still had any of your old contacts….”

“My old contacts? I haven’t spoken to any of them in years. Not since the whole fuck up with Nathan and the fake papers from the Marines. I haven’t talked to any of those people since.”

“What about people in the game? That you worked for BEFORE Nik? You ever talk to any of them?”

“There’s a couple I interact once in a while but mostly about non job related stuff. Just random checking in on each other and seeing how our lives are going. You’re not serious about this, are you? About wanting ME to try and find things out? I haven’t had a finger on that particular pulse in a long time.”

“The circle’s pretty tight,” Tyler reasons. “Once you’re in it, you’re never really out of it. There’s guys I haven’t talked to in years but I know I could call if I needed a favour. Maybe you’ve got a couple of those too. People that would do you a solid if you needed them to.”

“I thought we agreed that I’d put that part of my life behind me? We talked about this. After I royally messed things up by not realizing those papers sent to me were fake. I mean, it’s practically my fault that Nathan managed to get a hold of you in the first place.”

“Okay, we’re NOT going to go there. Because none of that is true. It happened. There’s no one to blame. He knew he couldn’t take me in a fair fight. Knew he had to get me from behind. Take me down.”

“And he wouldn’t have been able to had I NOT called you. Had I realized those papers weren’t the real deal, you never would have gone there and confronted him. We would have waited for the legit documents and you would have known how unstable he was. Instead, I just sent you in there and…”

“Let’s get one thing straight. You didn’t do anything. I went in there on my own. It was my choice. I had the chance; to walk away and leave him there. And I didn’t. I went back in. You had nothing to do with it.”

“If I’d known about the papers…”

“YOU had nothing to do with it,” he repeats. “There was no way you could have known what we were dealing with. Same way I couldn’t have known. It happened. Nathan did what he did.”

“Yeah, and you almost died. Because I was careless and…”

“Stop,” he presses a kiss to her lips in order to silence. “We are NOT going to talk about him. Nothing good ever comes out of talking about that asshole. So can we not? Bring him up? Can we let this go?”

“I just…”

“Drop it,” he orders, and then pecks the tip of her nose. “Please.”

“All I’m saying is…”

“Oh my god, woman. Stop.” Placing a kiss to her forehead, he gathers her into his arms; pulling her tightly into him, hands locking together at the small of her back. “We’re not going to talk about this. Five years ago. It never leads to anything good. And I really do not feel like fighting with you. Not after the night we had last night.”

Smiling, she wraps both arms around his waist. “It was a good night.”

“A very good night.” He drops a kiss on the top of her head. “You were fucking incredible.”

“I was, was I?” She looks up at him, bottom of her chin resting on his chest. “You weren’t too shabby either. You know how to raise the bar impossibly high, I’ll tell you that much. And that whole thing in the tub? We need to do that again. ASAP.”

“Thought you didn’t enjoy it. You were practically having a temper tantrum.”

“I was frustrated. Do you know that aggravating it is? Getting that close and having someone just yank the carpet out from under you? Do you have any idea how maddening that is?”

“Actually, I do. You’ve done it to me. Many times. But if you want to do it again…”

“I do. There’s a lot of things I want to do again. And again. And again. With you.”

“Baby, I aim to please.”

“And you do. Very well, as a matter of fact. Even though I am still slightly embarrassed by my reaction. You know, when I…in the tub...when you…”

“When I made you squirt?” He chuckles when she gives an embarrassed groan and buries her face in his shirt. “Why does that make you all shy and shit? I’m the last person you should be embarrassed around. We’ve been doing some dirty shit since day one. You think you would have stopped getting embarrassed a long time ago. I’ve only been your husband for twelve and a half years.”

“It’s just so...I don’t know...gross.”

“Gross? It’s fucking hot. It’s a turn on. Knowing I can make you do THAT? It doesn’t happen often; you getting THAT worked up.”

“Well I guess you need to try harder,” she teases, and gives a yelp when he brings both palms down onto her ass in ringing slaps and then squeezes tightly. “I have to say, husband. You really are a man among men. I definitely hit the jackpot when I landed you. Smartest thing I ever did; letting you put a ring on it.”

“Even though you didn’t want to marry me at first?”

“For the record…” her hands move to his sides, softly and repeatedly moving over his ribs. “...I never said I didn’t want to marry you. I said I was scared to get married again. That I was worried we were going to fuck things up. And I loved you and I didn’t want us to fuck them up. We both had pretty bad track records when it came to marriage.”

“That’s because we both married the wrong people the first time around.”

“I was just scared. I didn’t want things to go bad between us. Not when they already seemed so good. And if that meant staying the happily unmarried couple…”

“But I wasn’t okay with that. I wanted to get married. To you. And before you ask? No. Not because you were having Millie. She had nothing to do with it. I would have wanted to marry you even if there hadn’t been a baby. But I’m glad there was. She’s pretty awesome. They all are.”

“Yeah,” she smiles up at him. “They are. We’ve done good work, Tae. We definitely make some pretty damn beautiful babies. And it’s kind of sad; that there won’t be anymore. Kind of bittersweet. But I think it’s time for us, don’t you? Time for you and I to concentrate on each other for a change. I don’t want that to be all there is to us. Two people raising kids together.”

“There’s way too much between us for it to ever be just that,” he assures her. Laying a hand on the small of her back, he once more pulls her tightly into him; fingers of his other hand biting into the cheek of her ass when he covers her mouth with his.

The kiss is long and soft and slow; her arms wrapping around his waist as she stands on the top of his feet in order to give her that little bit of extra height. Her lips moving against his in perfect unison; moulding and fitting together in ways he’d never experienced with anyone else before. Bodies so in sync with each other; always so responsive and eager.

“I have another favour to ask,” he says when he pulls away, hands settling on her hips.

“You keep kissing me like that?” Her eyes are still closed as she sighs heavily and dreamily. “ For the rest of my life? You can ask as many favours as you want.”

“I don’t want you causing issues with Riley. Over the fentanyl.”

Her eyes snap open; a frown curving her lips as she looks up at him.

“She didn’t give it to me with bad intentions. It wasn’t like she was hooking me up with a fix. That’s not what I wanted it for. It had nothing to do with being an addict and everything to do with the pain I was in. I had screwed that knee up and it was going to be months before they could do another reconstruction and I couldn’t take much more. That’s how bad it was. How bad I was suffering. And I knew the doctor wouldn’t give me anything else. That he’d think I was just drug seeking; in it to get a high.”

“So you asked her.”

“I couldn’t ask Ovi. I knew he’d tell you. And I didn’t want him getting caught and his whole career going down the toilet before it even started. So when Riley came up here that summer, I asked her for something stronger. To hook me up with something that could help. And she put up a good fight; she wasn’t going to go give in. I’m the one who convinced her to. Promised I’d only use it when necessary.”

“And did you? Use it just when necessary?”

“Only when the pain got to be too much. She gave me enough pills to last a couple months. I only took eight. In the two weeks we were here. That’s it. When we were ready to go back home, I put them in the medicine cabinet and never thought about them again.”

“Until the other night.”

Tyler nods. “It scared the fuck out of me, Esme. How easy it was to take to them. To remember they were even there. I didn’t even give it a second thought. I just grabbed them and took them. No hesitation.”

“You realize how badly that could have gone, right? You don’t play around with that stuff, Tyler. That is some heavy duty shit and you just went ahead and took six of them and…”

“Not one of my finer moments.”

“It could have killed you. That many. You know that, right? It could have killed you. Did you even stop to think about that? About what would happen? How I’d find you dead? On Christmas morning? Did that even occur to you?”

“No,” he admits. “And that’s what scared me. The fact I didn’t think of any of that. That I just took the stuff. Like I’d done it a million times before.”

“Did you WANT something bad to happen?”

“No, babe. I didn’t. I just needed to shut my brain up. I just needed to get away from it. I needed peace and fucking quiet. An escape. From what goes on in my head.”

“I’m going to ask you something and I want you to be one hundred percent honest with me. No matter how hard it will be for me to hear or how bad you think it will hurt me. I need you to tell me the truth. Can you do that? Be honest with me?”

“I can.”

“Do you want to die? Right now. Right this second. Is that what your brain is telling you? Is that what it’s BEEN telling you? That it would be better if you weren’t here? That my life and the kids’ lives would somehow be better if you weren’t around anymore? Has it been telling you that?”

“How did we get onto this? I was just asking you not to go off on Riley. That she was only trying to help and…”

“Please don’t do that. Deflect. I’m scared too. It frightens me that you found it so easy to take those pills. That you didn’t even stop to think of what could happen. How it could have killed you and what that would have done to me. And the kids. That isn’t like you; you weigh options and you analyze every scenario and you consider every possible consequence. So I need to know. Did you take those pills because your brain is telling you that you’re better off dead?”

“Esme…”

“Tyler…” her voice cracks with emotion and she valiantly fights back against a flood of threatening tears. “...I need you to tell me the truth. I need to know exactly what we’re dealing with here. I need to know just how serious this is. I need you to tell me what’s REALLY going on in your head. So we can get past this and figure shit out and work on how to help you.

“I don’t…”

“I know you’re just trying to protect me. And believe me, I love you so much for that. The fact you’ve always protected me. No matter what. But right now I need to know the truth. Or we won’t get past this. Do you want to die?”

He swallows heavily. “Sometimes.”

“When was the last time you thought of it? When you felt that way?”

“Couple days ago.”

She briefly looks away in an attempt to control her emotions. “That night you took the fentanyl? Did you want to die then?”

He nods.

“Jesus….” she rakes a hand through her hair, then places it over her mouth; tears managing to escape. “...I mean, I was pretty sure you were going to say yes. We’ve been in this place before. I’ve taken a loaded gun out of your hand, for crying out loud. But to actually hear it…”

“I’m sorry, Me. I’m sorry that my brain is the way it is. I am so fucking sorry.”

“I know you can’t help it. I know it’s an illness and I know first hand how bad it can get. But I just…” she takes a deep, quivering breath and slowly releases it. “....I need to go and get some air or something. I need to just get out and get my shit together. I need…”

“Baby….” he attempts to move his hands to her shoulders, but is foiled when she takes a step backwards.

“I need to get out of here. Just for an hour. Just to clear my head and accept this and figure out a way to deal with it. It’s not you, Tyler. You realize that, right? Please tell me you realize that.”

“I do. I do realize that.”

“I just don’t know how much more I can take,” she admits. “I am so close to breaking and if that happens, I won’t be of any use to you. Or the kids. I just need some fresh air and a chance to get myself together and come to terms with this. With just how bad it actually is. Can you give me that? Just that little bit of time?”

“Of course I can.”

“It’s not you,” she repeats, and moves closer to him. Once more perching herself on top of his feet; both arms reaching up to circle his neck. “I need you to know it’s not you.”

“I know that, Me.” He cradles her face in his palms; fingers gently brushing away the tears that glisten on her face. “Just tell me you’re coming back. That you’re not just going to walk out of here and leave me and our kids. Tell me…”

“I’m not leaving you. Or them. I just need some time. An hour, even. Just to get my shit together. Just to sort through all of this stuff in my head. I’m not going anywhere, Tyler. I’m not walking away from you. From our family. From US. That isn’t even an option.”

“I’m just worried you’re going to walk out and realize it’s just too much. That I’M too much.”

“That’s not going to happen,” she assures him. “I love you. My whole world begins and ends with you. I need to be able to help you. And right now? I don’t think I can. I feel like I'm drowning. Or like I’m walking on really thin ice and one bad step is just going to pull me under. And I need to be okay. I need to be strong. For you.”

“I need you to be strong for YOURSELF. Why haven’t you told me any of this? About how you’re feeling? Being this close to the edge? Why…?”

“Not right now, okay? I’m going to go and get dressed and get some air. And when I come back, we’ll talk. We’ll get TJ and Millie and Alannah to watch everyone and we’ll sit down and talk. Get it all out in the open. BEFORE Riley gets here. I’m coming home, you know. It’s not like I’m disappearing off the face of the earth. I WILL be back.”

“And I’ll be here. No matter long how it takes.”

“An hour,” she promises, and turns her face up to his when he leans down to kiss her. “I didn’t lose you to Dhaka,” she says, and places her hands over his; eyes closing as his lips press against her forehead. “And I sure as hell won’t lose you to your own mind.”

[sonappeal66]

Money As Well As Residential Or Commercial Property When You Separation Or Separate

Both of these choices can be pricey, however they may still be less costly than litigating. If you disagree about cash or building and also you've tried mediation, a solicitor will probably recommend sort things out in court. You need to talk to a lawyer if you can't get to a contract with your ex-partner with mediation. If your contract has to do with money or home, it's a good suggestion to take your memorandum of recognizing to a solicitor as well as ask to turn it right into a 'permission order'. This implies you can take your ex-partner to court if they do not stick to something you agreed.

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Obtain A Separation: Detailed

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# 10 Can I Get Lawful Help?

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What Takes Place If I Claim No To An Invite To Mediation?

[firedtin5]

Arbitration Archives

https://greater-manchester.trusted-mediators.co.uk/ of these options can be expensive, yet they may still be more affordable than going to court. If you differ regarding money or home as well as you have actually attempted arbitration, a lawyer will most likely suggest sort points out in court. You need to talk with a lawyer if you can not reach an arrangement with your ex-partner through mediation. If your contract has to do with cash or residential property, it's a good idea to take your memorandum of comprehending to a solicitor and also ask to turn it right into a 'authorization order'. This implies you can take your ex-partner to court if they do not adhere to something you agreed.

In order to submit such an application you will require to have taken into consideration arbitration using a MIAM with an approved family members mediator.

Kid 1st Mediation specialises in assisting you make prepare for the future complying with splitting up or divorce-- coming to agreements on the plans for your kids as well as residential or commercial property as well as monetary settlements.

Family Mediators will support the notion that both moms and dads have equivalent legal rights as well as responsibilities and that it is the moms and dads who are the ultimate choice manufacturers.

Mediation can usually be less expensive and also quicker than bargaining via a lawyer or litigating.

If authorization to travel is not offered, you might seek lawful advice on the following steps available to you, including an application to court under a Particular Concern Order.

You can obtain assist with preparing to make plans and also getting to an agreement. The cost of mediation will differ relying on where you live and also the number of sessions you go to.

Family Mediation

Our arbitration solutions continue to be provided throughout this public wellness emergency. Virtual mediations are organized swiftly either by video link or telephone conference and are working well. We can also organize arbitrations in other ways if you are not comfortable with either video clip or telephone conference meeting.

Mediation depends on two people wanting to settle their disagreement, although they have really various viewpoints at the start of the process. It will additionally make it simpler for you to remain readily available to your children as well as their psychological requirements, and also guarantee they are supported. Settlement isn't cheap and you can not get legal help for it, but it may still be less costly than litigating. You as well as your ex-partner have your own lawyers that are specially trained in collaborative regulation. The 4 of you meet in the very same area as well as work together to reach an arrangement.

Obtain collaborating using trusted-mediators.co.uk divorce mediation : Detailed

Arbitration can help you and the various other moms and dad resolve issues without going to court. Making an application for a court order often takes longer as well as may be extra pricey and demanding.

There are particular points that a court thinks about when determining what's in a youngster's benefits. The court thinks about all the scenarios of the instance and also not simply the list, yet it's the beginning point. When determining whether to make an order, the court needs to think about whether it would certainly be much better for the welfare of the kid to make an order than not make an order. The well-being of the kid need to be the court's top priority when choosing. Forbidden actions order-- stops an individual doing something with or to a youngster, as an example to stop a moms and dad taking a youngster abroad, or from selecting a youngster up from college. The court will certainly motivate you to get to an arrangement, yet if you can not it may be needed for the court to issue an order. There are most likely to be costs involved, as you can't get lawful help for family members matters unless you have actually endured domestic physical violence, or very rarely-- your instance is "phenomenal".

# 10 Can I Obtain Lawful Help?

You as well as your ex-partner can sit in various areas if you feel unable to sit together and ask the mediator to go back as well as forwards between you. This kind of arbitration takes longer, so it's generally more expensive. It is essential that you as well as your ex-partner are sincere when you speak about your financial resources. If your ex-partner later finds out you attempted to hide something from them, any kind of contract you make could not stand. Your ex-partner can also take you to court for a larger share of your money. Legally binding methods you have to stay with the terms of the contract by legislation. If you continue with mediation, it usually accompanies the other parent over several sessions.

Pinsent Masons appoints infrastructure partner in Perth - Out-Law.com - Out-Law.com

Pinsent Masons appoints infrastructure partner in Perth - Out-Law.com.

Posted: Wed, 03 Feb 2021 11:56:56 GMT [source]

Mediation can simply be an opportunity to talk to someone independent regarding your parenting scenario. If you are a young adult that needs advice and also details click here to see LawStuff, our website dedicated to supplying suggestions as well as assistance to youths. Arbitration can continue while it fulfills the requirements of the individual parties included. Complete arbitration sessions will typically last in between 1 to 2 hours, depending upon the intricacy of the situation. Upon a contract being gotten to between you and also your ex-partner, a "memorandum of understanding" will be created by the conciliator so everyone recognizes what has actually been concurred. Once the court accepts your decree outright, they'll send you both a duplicate of it and also your divorce will certainly be complete. You can obtain support or coaching to help you with the separation process.

You may be able to obtain legal aid for mediation if you're on a reduced income. Info and Assessment Meeting is normally required prior to court, where it is safe to take place. Where at least one party is eligible, legal aid will cover the costs of both events to attend the MIAM. The individual making the application to court should organize as well as participate in the MIAM, which can occur separately or jointly with the various other party.

Are employees with disabilities neglected in Singapore? - Human Resources Director

Are employees with disabilities neglected in Singapore?.

Posted: Wed, 03 Feb 2021 18:12:59 GMT [source]

We're the prominent national charity collaborating with single parent family members. We supply professional recommendations, sensible assistance as well as campaign for single mums as well as dads.

[grimelords]

Finished writing my January playlist up a couple weeks ago and forgot to post it. Sometimes things are like that I suppose. A pretty good mix of all the songs I was very into two months ago.

Terrapin Station (Suite) - Grizzly Bear & The National: It's shocking to think that a 5 hour long Grateful Dead tribute album changed my life but it really did. It's so good all the way through which is a feat in itself and it's a great introduction to every side of a band that can sometimes feel culturally overwhelming to try to get into. This song is a highlight, veering over every kind of territory for 16 minutes but always maintaining the sort of precision of purpose I associate with Grizzly Bear.

New Year - Beach House: January baby! I've got tickets to see Beach House later this month and I'm excited because they really surprised me as an incredible live band last time I saw them, building their songs with a lot more dynamism than the sort of drum machine play alongs their albums are (which I love!!).

BAGDAD - Cap.7: Liturgia - Rosalia: I'm still working my way into fully appreciating how good this Rosalia album is. The Justin Timberlake melody is so beautifully repurposed and I absolutely love the church choir behind the 'junta las palmas y las separa' part. It's just a heartbreaking and beautiful song even if I did have to google translate it.

Signs Of Life - Arcade Fire: I've been thinking a bit about Everything Now and how it was received and weirdly it seems to have a lot of parallels with the Achtung Baby/Zooropa/Pop era of U2, 20 years before it. Well established megastar bands who turned from their extremely heartfelt authentic origins and explored the world of pop and commercialism with varying critical success. Everything Now doesn't feel old fashioned but it's kind of weird they're playing with a lot of the same ideas U2 were in their Pop-Mart era so long ago. Anyway this is one of their best songs ever I think. The disco instrumentation versus the paranoid lyrics is just great, the backing vocals especially.

Discotheque - U2: The vocals in this song are so interesting. There are at times upwards of three Bonos harmonising with each other. It creates an unsettling image of a world overrun with Bonos. I do however love the extremely strangled guitar sound in the breakdown. I sort of wish this song were longer, long as it is, because it really starts to build into something serious by the end but then it just fades out disappointingly.

Violent Shiver - Benjamin Booker: I love Benjamin Booker but he needs to take a lesson from this song and do some hot licks again. He doesn't do hot licks like this in barely any other songs! Benjamin Booker sounds like he's from an alternate timeline where rock n roll stayed black and this is where it's at now.

Dawn Of The Dead - Does It Offend You, Yeah?: Can you imagine naming your band 'Does It Offend You, Yeah?' in 2019? What a time to be alive 2008 was. I absolutely love the steel drums in the prechorus and the bass and 'ooh ah' in the chorus. The production is just so chunky throughout. This whole song is thick.

Golden Skans - Klaxons: Anyway speaking of the heady days of English 'new rave' Golden Skans is a masterpiece. It's also masterfully compact, it's over in 2 and a half minutes. Amazing.

Go Bang - Pnau: I really applaud Pnau for having the audacity to release Chameleon and Go Bang on the same album right after each other when they're essentially the same song. Close enough to be the same song but different enough that you're still completely hyped when either of them come on.

Say You See Why So - Eleventh He Reaches London: I found this extremely serious Perth screamo band a little while ago they're so good i'm surprised I'd never heard of them before. I love the style of just endless new sections on new sections with barely any repetition, it makes you feel crazy which is perfect for this music.

Why Write A Letter That You'll Never Send - The Drones: I don't really know what to say about this song other than imagine literally getting this email verbatim lol.

Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me - U2: Fully fucked up that one of the best U2 songs only got released on the Batman Forever soundtrack.

Dead Of Night - Orville Peck: I'm so glad Lana Del Rey has been around long enough now that she's inspired a second wave. I absolutely love the whole concept Orville Peck has going, masked gay cowboy is a criminally underexplored genre.

Trip The Mains - Methyl Ethyl: I can't believe Methyl Ethyl are onto their third album already. I love how dancey this is compared to their other stuff, and his voice is still completely blowing my mind.

Strange Days (1999) - Health: I've had the cover for this single as my lock screen for two months now. It's simply very good and such a direct distillation of Health's essence. They've simplified and moved closer to pop ideas on this album and I'm all for it, they sound like Purity Ring if Purity Ring exploded occasionally which sounds very good to me.

Milk Crisis - The Go! Team: I'm racist because I thought for a long time that this song was gibberish but it turns out it's actually just in Japanese.

Cream On Chrome - Ratatat: It's fucking sick that Ratatat have been able to not only survive but thrive for so long making music that sounds like the loading screen of a Dreamcast racing game.

Will The Circle Be Unbroken - The Staple Singers: This is maybe my favourite example of 60s stereo recordings making completely bizarre decisions. The drums and bass in this are panned extremely far left and the guitar far right, which has the nice effect of letting you take out your left headphone and listen to a very beautiful stripped back guitar and vocals only version.

Angel From Montgomery - John Prine: I'm seeing John Prine next week and I'm very excited. He's approximately one million years old and seems to only now be getting the recognition he's deserved for decades.

(My Friends Are Gonna Be) Strangers - Merle Haggard: It's interesting thinking about the parts of American culture that don't really get exported to Australia. We got Johnny Cash and Hank Williams to a lesser extent but I hadn't really heard of Merle Haggard before this year which seems insane now that I've realised just how massive he was.

Debbie - Architecture In Helsinki: I have so much love for this vocal performance. Sitting in a weird half falsetto out of breath and just shrieking your way through it, mwah mwah I'm doing a chef's kiss right now.

Yandere - Yamantaka / / Sonic Titan: It's reassuring that the enthusiastic art nerd mindset of bands like The Red Paintings and The Sound Of Animals Fighting will never truly die. There should be more bands where they all have costumes and multi-movement songs songs telling an inscrutable story and a guy in the band whose whole job is just doing the lights.

Sweetness And Light (For Life Remix) - Itch-E & Scratch-E: My lifelong grudge against Paul Mac for enabling The Dissociatives and various other crimes will always be slightly tempered by how much this one song bangs.

Ontheway! - Earl Sweatshirt: I am such a big fan of this album. All the way through it feels like laying on the floor feels and it's addictive because of it. Every time I listen to it I just want to start it over again and lay the fuck down.

Mistake - Middle Kids: This song made me feel like a record producer in a movie or something when I first heard it because I got about one bar into the chorus and was absolutely smitten. It's just incredible.

Pressure To Party - Julia Jacklin: "I know where you live, I used to live there too" is maybe one of the best ever breakup album lines I've ever heard.

Our Shadows - Deantoni Parks: Deantoni Parks has a huge brain. The thing he does, where he sort of plays live mpc as part of a drumkit could be extremely naff and I'm sure there's a million guys on youtube doing it and making bad music, but he ain't one of them.. His take on it is so completely alien that the human element serves to bring it back to earth, all the disconnect that you would get from someone making a song like this on a laptop is metered out by a physical human body feeling every sound out personally and it's amazing.

Head To Toe In Morocco Leather - Muslimgauze: What's the word for being a weaboo except about the middle east and getting totally radicalised about it but never leaving England? Anyway Muslimgauze rocks and every six months or so I reread his wiki article and listen to his music exclusively for a couple of days before whatever that feeling is wears off again. I have a lot of respect for him but also suspect he may have just been a nut, which I respect as well.

In The Nervous Light Of Sunday - Circle Takes The Square: Very excited that Circle Takes The Square is on spotify now!!!

I'm In It - Kanye West: I heard that when they were recording this there was steam coming out of the horny meter that they have in the studio and then the glass broke on the horny meter and the needle started spinning around and around because the horny levels were so high.

Do Me A Favour - Arctic Monkeys: Alex Turner has two songwriting modes: incredibly tangible story songs and songs where he's just playing word association rhyming games and the craziest thing is both types are good. This is absolutely one of his best of the first kind I think​.

listen here

[fairypartyperthaustralia]

Get amazing theme for your kids birthday entertainment

Arranging a kid's birthday party can be quite difficult and time consuming. This article will help you choose the right theme for your party and find the perfect entertainment to make your kids birthday entertainment memorable. You want it to be fun but not too wild or out of control. You want it peaceful but without being boring. And then there are all those other things - invitations, games, decorations, snacks and food.

If you want to add some spice to the theme for your kids' birthday party, here are some ideas to help you:

Some of these themes would work well with various party themes and can be inexpensive to put together. Be creative; this is how you can create a unique party theme that will let your kids see how unique they are.

A great birthday party theme can be as simple as yellow or orange since yellow and orange are summer and fall colours. Just inflate a big bowl-shaped latex balloon until it becomes nearly round. Then cut it in half and attach 2 strings to the bottom of each balloon. Inflate a tall, square balloon, attach it to the bottom of your yellow balloon and then tie a string to it. This creates a yellow square or rectangle shape.

An even easier party theme is wrapping paper. When you have enough of one colour for an entire wall-wall length, please put all your party decorations on it and have everyone come dressed in that colour.

Another great kids' birthday party theme is flowers, party decorations, balloons and a special place to greet everyone. You'll want to include something you can eat or drink so everyone can enjoy food and drinks.

Go to the mall or the library, and find some books on your favourite places, characters, or unusual ideas like "The Book of Legends". Put stickers on all the pages that tell a story or have activities you can do, like making a favourite meal at home.

Apart from this, the princess fairy party perth has a wonderful birthday theme that will make your child feel like a princess. It has many activities which will make your child have a wonderful time. Our birthday theme includes extremely beautiful gifts, party princesses and all the characters of your choice. Find the right birthday theme that will make your child happy and make all her dreams come true.

You will also get a mix of music, games, and face painting for your princess party

.Original Source:

https://globaleasy.tech/get-amazing-theme-for-your-kids-birthday-entertainment/

[carstensenvad90-blog]

Dune Rats Launching Dank New Solitary, "Scott Green"

Psychedelic Porn Crumpets - an effective, melody driven psychedelic rock band from Perth who've been priced quote as Resembling Jimi Hendrix fresh off the end of a light world." - The Music. In 2012 I obtained requested an Iron Maiden tribute, it had not been comparable to we are right now, but it revealed me the best heavy steel band on the planet. Strangely enough, I never ever listened to Maiden. I only knew like two tunes. It was only a matter of time up until it became my preferred band. Mon 16th - Chips (still in The golden state) were in the studio for a one-off band that had Hector Penalosa from The Absolutely nos on bass as well as lead vocals, Chips on guitar and also backing vocals and also Victor Penalosa from The Melanies on drums as well as backing vocals. 2 tracks were taped at Chris Von Sneidern's studio in San Francisco. Wed 31st - Last day of the Badmouth support tracks sessions in Gothenburg. 14 songs was recorded in 10 days. Chips as well as the band would certainly finish the recordings on "The Planet of Noise mobile recording system" in Stockholm. All songs were completed Dune Rats except one - "I want I was having fun" - that was gone down prior to the mix. Catch every one of the band's upcoming scenic tour days and their ticketing information, below. Rock band from Australia, on scenic tour to sustain their most current launch "The Children Will Certainly Know It's Bullshit". The very best is our idea of just how an excellent party band should sound. We're not as snobby" as bush Kings were. We play the success. Not neglected b-sides. I always intended to play Detroit Rock City". Quite a tricky song I must say. It's truly the band we would love to see at a party. Roger Waters of Pink Floyd became this after The Wall, and especially throughout The Final Cut, when he composed all of the tunes for that album, and also the recording sessions for the album were so filled with tension that David Gilmour requested to have his name removed from the producer's credit scores. Seas would certainly give up the band in 1985, calling it "an invested pressure", as well as attempted to sue his previous bandmates to stop them from making use of the Pink Floyd name, however he lost, though he did retain special legal rights to The Wall, save for 3 songs that were co-written with Gilmour. In spite of this image damage as well as solo cds that made a fraction of the influence of the Gilmour-led Floyd, in the 21st century Waters found success again, with Pink Floyd's get-together performance, solo scenic tours inspired by The Dark Side of the Moon and The Wall surface, as well as the launching of Çan Individual retirement account, an opera written by him (!).

The band contains three boys in their 20s who, regardless of their background of vibrant shenanigans when traveling, satisfied under relatively common conditions approximately 4 years back. I met Danny Beusa in the Valley in Brisbane, after that met Brett Jansh going across the road, and then most of us began an unite," explains drummer BC Michaels with a straight face. Fri 27th - For the first time ever Sator played a program with another drummer. Robert Eriksson formerly of the The Hellacopters, now with Vagrant helped out when Michael could not make it. The program went to Daltons MC" in Läckeby. Assistance band was Fuzzter. Fri 11th - The Kids at "Herr Nilsen" in Oslo with Chips and Kent. Assistance band was Difficult Good luck Road. This was Chips last full program with the Boys. Sincere John Plain joined the band for the repetitions. In Utah, Indy kept hectic as a participant of the Boy Scouts, having actually accomplished the rank of "Life Scout." One expedition, led by precursor leader Havelock, was an organized overnight in Arches National forest. Indy and the scouts were informed not to stray in the substantial Indian tunnels of the desert cliffs. Nonetheless, Indy and also his good friend Herman Mueller mistakenly stumbled upon a band of burglars, led by a male called Fedora, that were robbery the caverns. The item they uncovered was recognized by Indy as the Cross of Coronado Indy informed Herman to return as well as inform the neighborhood Sheriff, while he sneaked away with the Cross himself. That's what I'm battling with! But my parents have been terrific, they claimed, 'Okay, you've got a year to make this job'. So currently, I have actually returned home, and I virtually make music permanent, and after that at the weekend breaks I sing in a covers band, doing wedding celebrations, business features, stuff like that. It means at least I can generate income through vocal singing, and it's the one task that offers me the flexibility I need to do my very own stuff, since in this sector a great deal of things are so eleventh hour! In 2015, I toured with a Michael Jackson tribute program as well as also that didn't actually offer me the versatility I needed.

[rabbitcruiser]

Hug an Australian Day

Spread a little love around the world by participating in Hug an Australian Day. Show some appreciation to an Aussie in your life, or plan a trip!

In hindsight, Men at Work’s Down Under was a pretty average song. Thankfully, the country has provided so much more over the years. Hug an Australian Day is a perfect time to show gratitude and appreciation while simultaneously spreading a little love across the world. In a world where people are often made to feel more divided than ever, the simple gesture can make a huge impact.

Like throwing a boomerang, the good vibes will return very quickly. Aside from participants living or vacationing in Perth, Melbourne et al. Hug an Australian Day needn’t impact the entire day either. It’s fun, simple, and an event that everyone can join regardless of where they are.

It’s certain to be a g’day for everyone involved.

Learn about Hug an Australian Day

The concept of Hug an Australian Day is truly as simple as it sounds. Hugs are a friendly signal of affection that is scientifically shown to have a positive psychological effect on both parties. Whether from a loved one or a stranger, a quick and kind embrace can significantly enhance a person’s day. Hug an Australian Day allows participants to enjoy those rewards while also feeling that they are taking part of a social event. And, let’s not ignore the fact that it’s great social media content too.

Hug an Australian Day isn’t limited to Australians by birth and current Australian citizens. Australians that have emigrated count. Individuals with Australian heritage count. Even people that have married into an Australian family tick the box. Ultimately, the annual celebration is just a bit of fun that encourages people to connect with each other while simultaneously promoting positive vibes and a little gratitude towards the country that provided so many great pop culture icons.

Every hug is a step towards repairing the damage that Bart Simpson caused when dropping his pants to the Aussie government anyway…

Hugs are ultimately a physically symbolic gesture that represents love for Australia’s culture and people. Those sentiments can quickly grow by showing an interest. Talking about kangaroos and koala bears is great. Meanwhile, it’s a great opportunity to enjoy a little banter by explaining that Tim Tams will never reach the standards of Twinkies.

Hug an Australian Day could equally be known as “Show Some Love and Appreciation to Australian Friends Day”. Wouldn’t like quite as good on a t-shirt, though, would it? Likewise, very few people would be interested in typing out that URL.

History of Hug an Australian Day

Despite being a fun and lighthearted celebration, Hug an Australian Day is actually a copyrighted holiday. The annual event was launched by Thomas and Ruth Roy, who are the co-founders of Wellcat.com too. The couple are behind dozens of fun and crazy events and vacation ideas like The Monitor Liberation Day, Answer Your Cat’s Question Day, Yell ‘Fudge’ at the Cobras in North America Day, Take Your Houseplants for a Walk Day, and more. So, the Australian-hugging day is actually a pretty tame idea by their standards.

The day was launched by the pair simply with the humble goal “to show our great appreciation for all the love and support the Aussies have given us over the years” and has grown at a rapid rate in conjunction with one of the most popular times in the year for visiting the land Down Under. It started out relatively small scale but has gained major press in recent years while the word has spread particularly fast on social media and other online channels.

Participants of the annual event are advised to spoil Australian friends with Koala bear or kangaroo toys and imported snacks. However, it’s a great excuse for individuals to stock up on those items for themselves. As well as a day of appreciation, it can be a day of discovery. The day is also a family-friendly event that enables kids to teach their kid about all things Australia too – thank the internet gods for YouTube.

The day is now celebrated by millions of people across several countries and continents while it additionally gains a fair level of interest in Australia too. The history of the celebration is still in its infancy, but there’s no doubt that people are increasingly aware of everything the day stands for.

How to celebrate Hug an Australian Day

There’s no prizes for guessing the answer to this one. The clue is in the title; hugging an Australian is the best way to celebrate by far. Anyone thinking it’ll be Kylie should be so Lucky, Lucky, Lucky, but it shouldn’t take long to find a friend, colleague, or distant relative that fits the bill.

Anyone wanting to capture the magic of the Australian fixation of the 1980s can build their day’s activities around all things Australian. Whack on the Kylie CD, watch Crocodile Dundee or Steve Irwin, open a tin of Foster’s or Castlemaine XXXX, and go play with a boomerang in the garden. Hug an Australian Day does require an Ozzie to complete the obvious task. However, it is possible to celebrate the people and culture of the land Down Under all alone if preferred – or with non-Australian friends.

Others will create artistic homages to Australia or wear the flag, potentially as a face paint design. Whichever way it is celebrated, the #HuganAustralianDay hashtag will trend on social media throughout the day.

Australia is a highly popular once-in-a-lifetime holiday destination too. When combined with the pleasant climate and off-peak pricing, an increasing number of people plan their visits to Australia around the event. The atmosphere on the day itself is certain to be a winner, while the memories created during that time exploring the Outback are incredible.

There’s no one right or wrong way to celebrate the annual event. However, it is important to take the feelings of the recipients into account. The universally accepted protocol is to say “happy Hug an Australian Day” before asking whether they’re happy to be hugged. Simple.

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