#like a sealed sieve. as we know. but yeah something like that

[itsalwaysdark]

THE CUT DIDNT WORK FML

under the cut bc im like a little scared (its like a blanket to me and things like this) but you know when youre rationalizing a thought in your head and you suddenly recognize it and youre trying to justify it and then you get hit with the its kind of fucked up that i think that thought. and then its really quite scary

eta absolutely humiliating can you believe this . like a kick to the head you know.

[notmuchtoconceal]

bro, confession -- i love watching weird conservative nerds on the internet talk about gay people like they're mutants and it's all projection.

oh my fucking god, bro. it is absolutely fascinating how insecure and pathetic they are --

and yeah, part of it's because of how much of myself i see in them.

empathy is a beautiful thing.

think like t. s. eliot and quentin tarantino and how they're weird neurotic geeks obsessively cataloguing a dead time that'll be gone forever because bro why youldn't you want to preserve some memory for time immemorial of a land you thought you knew and never knew

gone from the earth already before you had the foresight to remember

what are we but these bodies and our memories

some meager reputation prone to flux in the eyes of gullible men who fall to the lures of black anglers into blacker fancies corroded down to merely another cochhead on a wall of sieves

for there had already been so much lost and so many things you never got down and only so much time to remember as still you hurdle faster

for all time merely moves faster

so much more space with fewer things between as some stockpile like uranium builds up like plaque and all is black and gold beneath some radiant emerald green --

while we fancy that our imaginings, our infinitely superior realities, all sealed so hermetically as preserves catching dust on a shelf of grey moss on red oak where no longer the moon even shines, but those faint rays that turn back on them for the warmth of their cool,

for they saw futures by looking back as they built presence by looking forward

as a man is himself, all the things he is,

that he does and he dreams,

and my hands must handle more than spongey keys which drip in the nubs of their locks

or courtyards of sterile bit harshing my eyes with fluorescence so i see the trees as merely bearing square fruit,

cell walls in breast plate on keratin-bricked melons --

and it makes ya realize so much of the so-called "progressive" rhetoric in this country is people pathologically ashamed of their bodies cause they only know how to control others.

gotta get em as canned meat, nothin better than some substance under all the packaging.

gotta give em something to throw away.

can't fertilize en mass without the destructive act.

for the brutality of eroticism is the brutality of stark naked exposure and what revelations divine are our inspirations,

for we know well that to be ruled insincerely will always be unflattering,

and yet to truly explore a foreign consciousness will break us of our arbitrariness, break us in all the ways we yearn to be broken --

yes, oh yes -- the degrees of separation into some great other.

as we are he, she must be she, as we are fair, she must be rough, as we fancy women she must fancy women --

wait, we fancy MEN so she must fancy women --

homosexuality is *not* the state of nature,

we are ballerinas, twirling, twirling, twirling towards freedom

(escape velocity, bro!)

rocket number 9 awaits the evening star!

hammer hammer

armie hammer hammerhead.

your vessel is a thundercloud,

how she departs to the scorch of lands unseen.

our invisible sister frostbitten by the void, your skin is no stain of ours. you simply came from a distant land, nurtured by the light of our selfsame star --

by what names do you address him? they are as plentiful as his rays and the fruits bore below his arches --

by what magnificent shapes you have molded them to!

could i ever love you outside the bonds of politeness?

what yokes us to our decorum, some manifold headdress.

would i not encroach on you by knowing you, for you could not be what you are by knowing me? or do i fear simply, in spite of myself --

that for you to know me would break me, and i am simply this frail and fragile thing, some porcelain boy belonging to a delicate interior among the dust of the trees in the casings we flayed.

you love so me without absolution and i know only the absolute --

do i trespass upon you simply knowing not what to say?

what do you read into me, i who am a mute who harbors no infinities but what you see in me -- i could die when i see i have failed to love you, for i have failed you so truly that now you long to die -- there would be no cave deep enough, no epoch long enough to outlast the shame of the abortion i would sire would you to collapse in our lifeblood.

stop.

your silence could never hurt me. my silence is but a means to hurt yourself. i would never cease to speak to you, for i am unceasing in my speaking, though i use so much more than these meager gashes you catalogue in those denser smog infinities of your every fractionating light towers -- my beautiful algorithmic structure.

smoke bred the hydrogen bomb as mirror beget the sweatshop.

when you limit you, you limit me an i resent solely for i am as beyond limitation as you -- foolish boy. these potentialities which are your all -- you are always me, as i stroke your amber mane.

iridescent under an oyster shell, i flip you now to the light so that you may shimmer.

you who are eager to pull the trigger, may you find some infinity in your moment of hesitation.

you, who would not draw the blood of a traitor when called upon by the shade of your father, may you lay down the rapier of your mind and fence with two swords at once.

bro, it's like -- it's way more work to keep yourself cut off. from other people and the world, like -- what's the point.

not really any point when what ya wanna get away from's yourself,

cause buddy you ain't ever gonna get rid a that guy pointin a gun at other people.

you'd probably like him if ya got to know him.

he has a lotta good qualities.

i'd probably be into him if i didn't already know all his secrets.

[junicai]

what i made.

| order no. | 7/21

| summary | With a new Japanese member in their midst, Aria knows that he must be feeling homesick. So, she takes it upon herself to try to alleviate as much of it as she can.

| word count | 1.7k

| warnings | sickening fluff

| era | circa. January 2021

“Are you coming?” Aria had her phone held between her ear and her shoulder, scooping two reusable plastic bags from the countertop as she moved past. There was a small clinking sound and she paused, peering into the bag to make sure the glass containers hadn’t chipped off each other. 

Doyoung would have her head. 

Satisfied that there was no shattering, Aria moved again, snagging her coat as she pushed past in her free hand. Yuta hummed on the other end of the phone. 

“Yeah, I’m about to leave.” Aria could hear him rustling about on the other end of the line. 

“His apartment is the second one on the third floor remember - he told me Sungchan was going somewhere with Jungwoo, shopping I think?” Aria paused to think. “Anyway, he’s gone all afternoon, so Taro is alone.”

The shuffling paused on the other end of the line. “He’s been quiet with you too, right? It’s not just me?” Yuta asked. 

Aria hummed sadly. “Yeah, it’s not just you.” She pulled the door firmly closed behind her, only moving away when it signified that it had been locked with a beep. 

Living in the Dreamie dorms again had been a change. A nice change, don’t get her wrong, but for the last year she’d been spending most of her time in the 127 dorms. Now, with the Dream comeback on the horizon, she’d moved back into her old room - happy to see that the fairy lights she’d installed (meaning: stuck onto the walls with sellotape) were still functioning after she’d changed the batteries. 

“Remember how I got? Right after debut?” Aria questioned, now moving away from the doorway and into the hallway. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Aria replied. “I think he’s just gotten homesick - it happened to me, and I hadn’t been training for that long before debut.” 

“Makes sense. It’s probably harder because he’s older as well - the pressure might be getting to him.” Yuta’s voice was growing sadder, so Aria interrupted him before he himself could get down. 

“So!” She cheered, lifting up the bag of ingredients that was hanging in the crook of her arm. “We go and we cheer our last musketeer up.” 

“I told you not to call us that.” 

“Why not!” 

Aria giggled as Yuta began to list out the numerous reasons why he hated that nickname, tucking the phone into the other crook of her neck as one side began to cramp up.

She entertained the man with small hums and little rebuttals every now and then, walking out of the left apartment wing and into the right; where Shotaro and Sungchan’s apartment was located.

SM had moved their dorms into one apartment building for Mark, Aria and Donghyuck’s peace of mind. And also theirs. There had been several incidents of Donghyuck and Aria dashing down to the Dreamie dorm at one in the morning to grab something; and it was going to give their managers grey hair if something wasn’t done about it. 

Now, the larger apartment block they all lived in had two wings; the right wing, where the two 127 dorms were located, as well as Shotaro and Sungchan’s, and then the left - where the Dream dorms were. WayV was still in a separate apartment building, much to the entire group’s irritation, but it was a work in progress. 

As Aria stepped out of the elevator onto the third floor to see Yuta already standing outside Shotaro’s apartment door, she pulled her phone out from beneath her ear and hung up without warning.

She snickered at Yuta’s face when the man realized he had been hung up on, and just as he was about to click redial, she popped up behind him. 

“You were saying? Mr. Musketeer?” 

Yuta rolled his eyes. “Akari, you’re asking for it now.” 

Aria gently pushed past him, knocking twice on the door. She turned to face him afterwards, batting her eyelashes innocently. “I’m doing nothing at all- Taro! Hi!” 

Shotaro opened the door with bleary eyes, blinking at the light that blinded him slightly. The apartment behind him was dark, no lights on, and by the state of his hair Aria could infer that they’d just woken the boy up. 

“Hm? Akari?” Shotaro blinked sleepily at her. “What time is it?” 

Aria bit her lip to stop the smile growing across her face. “It’s almost two in the afternoon, Taro.” 

Shotaro blinked rapidly at that, clearing the fog of sleep from his eyes. “Oh! Is it? Sorry!” He opened the door wider, flicking on the lights after his two members walked in. 

Aria held up the two bags on her arm. “Can I put these down somewhere? I think my hand is slowly losing circulation.” 

Shotaro gestured towards the table that was partly covered in old newspapers. At a closer glance, the newspaper had a few spots of dried paint in various bright colours. She looked back to him. “Sungchan’s newest artistic endeavor go well?” 

“Yeah!” Shotaro pointed towards where an old ripped t-shirt was hanging off the back of a door - a small graphic square had been painted on in haphazard lines. “He’s really proud of it.” 

“He should be,” Yuta stepped forward to examine it further. “It’s really good.” 

Aria dropped the two bags onto the clean side of the table, rubbing her hands together to get the blood flowing back into her fingertips. “Ok!” She exclaimed, turning to face the two men. 

“I,” She began, poking herself in the chest, “Have a little surprise for the both of you.” 

Yuta’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Me?” He mouthed, pointing to himself in a question. Aria nodded.

“But! I need the kitchen to do it, so go, shoo. Get out.” She waved at the two boys, shooing them out of the kitchen.

Shotaro whined at her slightly. “But I could help?” 

“Then it defeats the purpose of a surprise, doesn’t it?” 

He opened his mouth before closing it, frowning at the ground. Aria waved at him. “Go go. I’ll be done quickly.” 

Once the two boys had disappeared into the main living room, Aria returned to the two bags on the table and slowly began to pull out the ingredients. The red bean paste that she’d made the night previous was packed away in one of Doyoung’s glass boxes for food, and she was careful to place it near the wall and out of the way of where she might knock into it. 

Dorayaki. The red bean pancake had been something she loved as a child, and Yuta held similar sentiments. She could only hope that Shotaro did as well - because at this point, it was almost a ritual for the original two Japanese members to go out and buy dorayaki when one or both of them were feeling off. 

With the filling set aside, Aria moved quickly to set up a small work station beside the hob, pulling out a mixing bowl and a whisk.

The eggs went into the bowl, followed by honey and sugar. They were stirred together quickly, combining in a matter of under a minute.

Next, came the flour, which was to be sifted in slowly. 

“Sieve, sieve.” Aria mumbled to herself, pulling open and closing drawers periodically. “Where would they keep a sieve?” 

She contemplated asking Shotaro for a minute, but ultimately scrapped that idea and chastised herself lightly. “They’re teenage boys, Akari. They’re not going to own a sieve.”

With that, she had to make do; using two forks laid over each other and pouring the flour mixture very slowly into the eggs. It was messy, and she got more flour on the counter than in the bowl, but it worked out for the most part.

Aria set the bowl aside as she turned on the electric rings, letting them heat up. The boys only had a small frying pan, that she could do nothing but pray was non-stick; and Aria winced at the thought that this might take a little bit longer than she’d hoped. 

She strained her ears for a moment, comforting herself with the fact that the two boys seemed engrossed in a conversation, and weren’t missing her presence too much for the time being. 

The mixture was poured on one by one, and gradually Aria amassed a sizeable stack of small, circular pancake shapes on the plate beside her. Then, it was only a matter of making a small mountain shape on the inside, before putting a second pancake on top - like a little hat.

She sealed the edges of each dorayaki, placing them on a plate. 

“Taro? Yuta? Do you want to come on in here?” She raised her voice, hoping that they’d hear her. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” Taro was the first to appear, his eyes curious before they caught sight of the plate held in Aria’s hands. 

His face lit up like a lightbulb, and his mouth dropped slightly. “You did not.” 

“I did.” Aria grinned. 

“Hey, look at you go little baker.” Yuta came over to snag one from the top of the plate, and had his hand batted away.

“Stop it, they’re for Taro. He gets one first.” Aria scolded, and Yuta backed away with his hands up. 

Shotaro, on his end, looked like he was about to cry. “F-for me? Really?” He gnawed at his bottom lip. 

Aria placed the plate down on the counter, moving to wrap the slightly younger boy in a hug. “Yeah, for you. Consider this your official initiation to the j-line. Very exclusive club. You’re the first member to be added since 2016.” She pulled back with a wide grin. 

Yuta joined the group hug, longer arms encircling both Shotaro and Aria where they stood. “You’re never getting rid of us now, Taro.” He teased. “We know your apartment passcode."

The trio stood quietly, smiles on all their faces until the dorayaki went cold on the plate. 

Not a single one of them cared; and if Sungchan came home to Yuta lying on the floor with Shotaro lying curled up to his left side, and Aria lying across his lap with her hand tangled in Shotaro’s - all three, fast asleep - and took a picture to send to Jungwoo for blackmail? 

Then that’s between the apartment walls, and him. 

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

7. Bass is heavy a.k.a. useful finger techniques, Dee Dee Ramone’s yelling and helpful octopuses

„Damn, I forgot Sly and Ethel in the van!” she groans and slaps on her forehead.

“No problem, I bring them with the next round.” Scully offers and disappears in the hallway that leads to the backdoor. I have no idea who Sly and Ethel can be but I don’t want to know it either… Now that she’s been left alone she tries to push the carriage trolley with the amps to its place on the stage. With little success. But her fight with the gear twice as heavy as her reminds me of a scene.

“Old woman!” I call her.

“Man!” she corrects me still pressing against the load at full strength. Okay, she passed the test again but that’s not a big deal, Monty Python’s Holy Grail basically became a mainstream movie by now, anybody could quote a few scenes from it. Okay, not everyone, none of my former girlfriends was familiar with absurd humor and neither is Amber. I got her to watch it with me but I gave up the mission and turned off the video recorder when she asked for the third time how much time was left of it. It’s just not for her.

“Okay, Dennis, where’s my cow?” I inquire while I’m helping her win the battle; otherwise hours later, the amps would still stand in the middle of the stage and our crowd would enjoy her hopeless struggle instead of the show.

“Are you deaf? Or just concentration problems?” she asks harshly, avoiding my glance and trying to ignore my intervention but her rush moves uncover the surprise she might feel about it.

“Hey, it’s not easy to talk with you, do you know? I asked you about something, I even emphasized my lack of information using a different tone, in grammar text books you can find the encyclopedic explanation in chapter “Question”.” I draw a question mark with my index finger in the air. “The next communication panel is the so-called “answer” in which you satisfy my need for details…” I gesture the quotation marks too.

“I won’t satisfy you in any way, excuse me…” she cuts me off and even tosses me away a bit as she steps dynamically to the monitor board to plug the cables into it.

“I’m just trying to ask where’s my…” I don’t need to finish the sentence since Scully arrives back with Dave’s stage prop, holding my cow under his arm.

“And I was trying to refer to the fact that we take care of Ethel and Sly.” she nods at the two mascots.

“Ethel?” I blurt out frowning. This chick isn’t sane, she was serious about searching for a name for it… “Since when has she been called Ethel?”

“Actually her name has always been Ethel, you’ve just never asked her about it.” she fixes her glasses with a wiseacre face. “She was quite unhappy, did you know that? I caught her searching for numbers of slaughterhouses in the phonebook as she wanted to volunteer to be a steak ingredient, no wonder knowing you. But when I told her we were traveling to Texas soon she immediately changed her mind. Now she wants to be the spokesperson of the anti-rodeo movement. A little care makes wonders.”

Her fantasy is quite intense, I have to admit.

“So you’re obsessed with stuffed animals?” I ask leaning against my Marshall and watch her wiring the stage with quick moves.

“…asks the guy who keeps one on his amplifier…” she mumbles darting at me for a second and raising one eyebrow. “What are you doing here, anyway? Are you supervising me or what? As far as I know I’m an unbearable person who makes the others admire her and uses her family ties…”

Nice attempt but not enough to distract me.

“…and who told, ahem, yelled at me that I should get to know her better, that’s what I’m trying to do right now.” I continue the sentence. “So tell me, Judith, how many stuffed animals do you have exactly? I bet there are a few ones in your bedroom… my first estimation would be somewhere between five and ten.”

“Oh yeah, my bedroom. Damn, you’ve got me… First of all there’s that huge teddy sitting on my bed, how did you figure it out? Then there’s the bunny in the armchair, the cute seal on my desk and my stuffed pony and unicorn collection, I gave up counting them a few years ago. And I have to mention that everything in the room is very pink and very fluffy. Do I meet the profile you created about me?” she bats her eyelashes.

Clever, but not clever enough to drive me to the wall.

“Actually, when I asked you about stuffed animals I was talking about stuffed animals. Like, dead animals which are stuffed. I mean, I could totally imagine a few stuffed bats, snakes and rats hanged on your shelves full of mysterious ingredients for occult purposes. Candles arranged on the points of a huge pentagram, right next to the coffin-shaped bed…”

“You left out the voodoo dolls. I have a bunch of them, the latest one I prepared wears denim pants and a Luv Co shirt tucked into them…” she approaches threatening me with a jack plug and for one second I think she’s about to stick it into my eyeball but in the last moment she changes direction and plugs it into the matching slot of the amp. I acknowledge, she didn’t need much time to know her way around our gear… But come on, even a chimpanzee can be trained how to put different solids into the right holes, she’s on the level of an average lab monkey. “But how come I turned from a nun into a witch in one single day? You’re pretty much inconsistent at insulting, Gossard…”

That makes sense. I open my mouth to cite the witch hunt scene from the mentioned movie but Scully intervenes in our conversation.

“Guys, if you go on like this I’ll claim payrise from Eric…”

“For what? How do you mean it?” she turns in his direction with hands on hips.

“Conflict management bonus.” he shrugs casually. “Seriously, could you just stop for a moment? For just a few seconds, I feel like I was at a fucking dogfight.”

“It was him who started it!” she exclaims outraged pointing at me.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know what she’s talking about.” I play dumb raising my hands in front of me.

“Jesus, you’re hopeless. Forget the stopping part, I just want the money.” Scully shakes his head resigned.

“Money? What money? I don’t know what’s going on here but I want money too.” Smitty enters in the company off Dave, Karrie and Jeff.

“When did everybody get so greedy? Actually, it is you who should pay me for my show, I’m the only one who keeps you entertained in this boring touring life.” I smirk as I begin to tune my orange Les Paul.

“As for me, I prefer boredom by all means.“ she rolls her eyes and begins to flipping through her notebook.

“Hey, Judy, we have a few spare hour after the soundcheck and I thought… I thought we could begin your bass guitar lessons.” Jeff scratches his nape holding his other hand deep in his pocket. Awkward loverboy alert… I pull a few steps away because I’m not interested in this embarrassing lovey-dovey but I also try to stay within earshot. Not that I give a shit about it, it’s just better to keep up with the sequels.

“Sure!” she smiles. “I mean, Karrie, do you have any plans for the rest of the afternoon? If you don’t, we could…”

“Beth wants to do some shopping, I forgot to mention it… so I’m going with her. I wanted to ask you too but I have a mind like a sieve…” Karrie answers suspiciously quickly.

“Oookay, then why not?”

“Your place or mine?” Jeff asks not noticing how ambiguous he sounds.

“Jesus, Jeff, you don’t waste your time, straight to the point…” I throw in, which makes the others stop staring them and suddenly everybody pretends to be busy with their work to hide their grins and snorts.

“There’s that small park near the hotel, what if we go there?” the target person of the courtship tries to ignore my remark but can’t disguise the tremble in her voice.

Clever, again. She picks a neutral place. Cautious enough not to show her closest surrounding and smart enough not to get in awkward situations. I mean, boys’ rooms tend to be quite messy, the mixed smell of sweat and deodorant for men, not to mention the stinky sneakers and boxers left on the bed…

“Great. I’ve already mapped out which things I want to show you first.” Jeff goes on enthusiastically and more awkwardly if it’s possible at all. I see Dave’s shoulders shaking as he kneels behind his bass drum to fake-fix its pedal.

“Let’s begin with the basics, I only learnt the most common chords to be able to play some accompaniment to campfire songs and nursery rhymes.” she insists on keeping the conversation under control but Jeff doesn’t seem to cooperate.

“I can teach you a few useful finger techniques.” he exercises the fingers of his bear paws with sincere innocence in his eyes but at this point everybody cracks up; even his future music student giggles bashfully.

“What’s with everyone?” he looks around confused. “What’s so funny?”

“You should… have… heard yourself...” Scully hiccups as he and Smitty collapse of uncontrollable laughter onto each other’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah. That conversation was… juicy.” Dave adds winking and doing unmistakable moves with his hips and arms.

“Oh fff…” Jeff buries his face into his palms replaying the scene in his head. Dave steps to him to pat his shoulders a few times.

“You know what, Ames? You shouldn’t talk so much about what you’re going to do. Just… do it.”

***

“So what’s your plan with that skateboard?” Judy asks while we’re walking in the park searching for a remote place. She hasn’t come up with that awkward conversation yet and I can’t be grateful enough to her for that. I don’t know what happened to me, usually I’m not that clueless type… I was probably way too much focused on the possible outcome of this day. If can I stick to my plan, I’m going to ask her out in like one hour and I have absolutely no idea what she might answer and that drives me crazy. Cool down, Ament, don’t act like a junior high school student before his first prom…

“Uhm… I know it sounds surprising but I thought I could skateboard here…” Aaaand in the category of meaningless answers, the Oscar goes to… drumbeat… Jeffrey Allen Ament, Big Sandy, Montana!!! “Plus, I thought if being a qualified musician, you found the class boring, we could spice it up with some physical challenges… like… you should play bass lines while rolling and balancing on this skateboard. And if it was still a piece of cake for you we could search for a skate park with half pipes and you could even do somersaults and flips.”

“I don’t know… I’m not an athletic type… I’ve only tried to ride a scooter once in my life. Mary Sue Kellerman, my classmate lent me hers on the playground when we were second graders. She explained and showed me how to do it but somehow I didn’t feel the technique, I stepped on it, drove it a few times and enjoyed the speed so much that I forgot to drive it again.” she giggles.

“And… what happened?”

“Seeing I was slowing down she yelled after me like ”Drive, drive!” but I felt paralyzed, I pulled up gradually and ended up tumbling from a standing position…”

“Poor you! But my first skateboarding attempts weren’t glorious either and I still collect a few injuries when I decide to learn a new trick. But I fell in love with it at first… try, and I never want to give it up.”

“You could be a cool, skateboarding grandpa who shocks the youth!”

We find a calm, trellis-like corner and settle down still discussing the same topic. Unlike most girls I know, she doesn’t mind it at all and when I tell her how my father convinced me to build my own skateboard instead of buying that expensive Stacy Peralta board, she turns out to know him. I can’t believe my ears when she mentions Tony Alva too, I mean, who’s this girl?

“And how did you pick up how to play the guitar?” she nods towards the bass on my lap.

“Believe or not I took a few lessons… But they were boring, at least for me, no chords, no songs, only scales…”

“Scales are important!” she corrects me. I always forget that she’s pretty conscious as for music which isn’t typical at all in the band.

“What can I say… I grew up listening to my uncle’s records and as I could spare some money I spent all of it on ordering music magazines and vinyls. And when I started playing bass I figured out how to use my stereo vinyl player to learn Dee Dee Ramone’s parts.”

“I love them!” she exclaims.

“Really? I mean, you know a lot about music and punk songs aren’t very sophisticated concerning the musical part…”

“But that’s the best in punk. Even if you’re not very talented technically you still can play a bunch of songs… or if you can’t, you can still reproduce Dee Dee Ramone’s totally out-of-rhythm “one-two-three-four” yelling. And most punk songs operate with the classic scale degrees. Ramones also use the holy trinity of tonic, subdominant and dominant like the greatest composers before them and…” she jabbers enthusiastically without breathing.

“Waitwaitwait, stop! I don’t have the faintest clue what you’re talking about, if you want to analyze my favorite songs to me you have to go back to Genesis to make it understandable for this Montanan jerk!” I cut her off chuckling.

“Do you mean the Old Testament or the band?” she grins. “Anyway, it’s very simple, look.”

She grabs the instrument out of my lap, disposes it onto hers and strums all strings one after another.

“Normal basses are tuned like double basses, right?“ To my nodding she names them. “E, A, D, G. So, let’s take Blitzkrieg Bop which is written in A major.” She plays the bass line of the mentioned song flawlessly and explains its chord progression in the meantime. I listen to her with dropped jaw and when she falls silent for a second, I take my bass quickly back.

“Okay, the lesson is over, excuse me but I have to go and bury myself alive.” I remark trying to keep a straight face.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t want to sound like a nerd or show off with my theoretical knowledge, I…”

“You don’t have to apologize for amazing me! But now it’s my turn to amaze you… Do you like graffiti?”

“I don’t know… I’m ambivalent… there are a few ones which look good and are also meaningful but if someone destroys a clear wall with stupid scrawls…” she frowns.

Oh. That’s not a good sign… Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…

“I prefer the creative ones too, such as my friend from the art school. He studied photography and spent his last years with shooting the best graffiti he’s seen all across the country and Canada and his exhibition opens on Thursday in Boston. And since we have a day off right that day, right there, I thought you could join.” I utter fast with one big breath. She stares me silently for a few seconds which seem like an eternity.

“ ’Course. Cool.” she answers briefly as if she was declaring something evident. I don’t have too much time to process the positive reception since she begins to roll my skateboard back and forth with her foot.

“Your introduction made me curious, I want to try this diabolical device.”

“Haha, okay, but only if I can walk next to you, you may need a handhold.”

She steps onto the board and she rolls cautiously on the path where we got here in a few minutes. She’s too busy with balancing to notice the rest of the band approaching from the gate.

“Hey Jeff, a suspicious woman is trying to steal your baby!” Eddie shouts.

“Look, guys I’m skateboaaaaaa…” she has to circle with her arms a few times and grab my shoulder to prevent herself from tumbling.

“Carefully, Judy. You should try surfing, it improves sense of balance and falling in water is safer than concrete.” Ed recommends.

“Say yes, if you don’t want to be fired…” Mike whisper-shouts hiding his face with one hand from Eddie preventing him from hearing it, which is obviously totally unnecessary.

“I’m not a big swimmer, so…” she shrugs apologetically.

“Anyway, did Jeff force you to try it? You can answer by signaling with your eyelids…” Mike jokes on.

“No, she just turned out to be a way better bass player than me. So I’ll quit the band and she’s begun to practice before she has to take over all of my tasks.”

“Ah, I see. Judy, I warn you, you’ll have to slam-dance with me. You should gain some weight, I don’t want to kill you…”

“Ed’s right. I’m going to slap you in the face with the guitar neck a few times… I mean literally… but no offense, you can hit back anytime you want or you can land on my foot after jumps from the monitor box like Jeff does…”

Judy wrinkles her nose as she tries to follow the relay of jokes. Stone – who has stayed silent until now – flashes an evil grin and clears his throat. The well-known first signs of his moronic verbal diarrhea.

“Guys, you forgot to prepare her for the most important circumstances. But that’s why I am the band leader… Judith, you have to do some shopping. The polyester basketball shirts are essential parts of our stage look, we can’t allow ourselves losing them just because Jeff quits. And the hats… that’s a more difficult question, they look quite… unique… so I don’t think you have any other choice than borrow them. Do you have sensitive scalp? Because… nevermind, I can lend you a few bandanas to make it more hygienic. Oh, and at certain points of the shows you’ll have to strip. Jeff often drops his shirt and plays on half-naked as you could already see it, you can’t break this tradition. But you also have to keep the hat on your head, don’t ask me why, that’s the rule.”

I sway my guitar case pretending I want to hit him and in the meantime I bite my lower lip to repress my grin. Stone is an idiot but sometimes he has good ideas… I mean obviously I can relate to that plot if I can be in the crowd… Jesus, when did I become such a sexist? I’ve just asked the poor girl out and… I’d better take a cold shower.

***

“And can we see you on TV on Saturday?” I ask rolling the film with my finger back and forth on the table. When Judy called me I was selecting pictures I want to show to Krisha as reference works and I found a few ones which I have to have developed.

“Nah, I don’t think so. We’re going to be with the guys in the studio but we’re not going to be filmed with the cameras. I think Karrie and Brett will have to work with the sound staff in the control room and I… I don’t know yet, if they let me in too I’ll just watch them like a useless idiot… which I am…”

“Control room? Wow, that sounds like a sci-fi, I can totally imagine the Star Trek characters there…” I deliberately ignore her low self-esteem-powered remark. “I’ve also seen in the previews that Sharon Stone would host the show, that’s an interesting combination…”

“Yep, Eric mentioned the creators wanted a funny scene or spot with her and the band but I don’t know if they can find a common ground. They only want to play music and aren’t interested in show business at all.”

“Maybe they want to gag with their physical appearance. Like, Sharon is tall and her legs are unrealistically long whereas Eddie is short so the screenwriters may figure out a joke about him being able to walk between her legs without bowing his head.” I guess as I start rummaging the photo heaps in front of me.

“Haha, you’re evil! You have no right to joke about Ed’s height, you’re a dwarf just like me…”

“But dwarf jokes are the best ones, you have to admit it. And… what are your plans until Saturday? Have you used the tape recorder yet?”

“Noooo…”

“You’re unbelievable, I’ve said you should…”

“…borrow a guitar, I know. Uhm, yesterday Jeff gave me a bass lesson, does that count?”

“Mmmmh, Jeff Ament?” I ask meaningfully. Since Judy joined the staff I played with the idea of them getting together, he seems to match her.

“No, Jeff Goldblum… of course Jeff Ament, who else? And he also let me ride his skateboard.”

“He let you ride his skateboard? That’s how you call it? It’s that a new slang or…” I cackle.

“Shut up, I meant it literally. No slang, no obscene details.” she cuts me off severely. So typical, usually she isn’t against sex related jokes but when actual guys around her come into play, she suddenly turns into a prude spinster.

“Okay, okay, I was just kidding. I’m just surprised, you haven’t mentioned yet you two spend time alone.” Actually I’m happy for these news, not only because I think they’d click but also because in the first ten minutes of our conversation she was cursing Stone Gossard. And even if only the half of what she claimed is true, I can’t blame her; the dude must be quite obnoxious. But still, she barely mentions anyone else from the band and I’m afraid if she goes on like this, these negative feelings will spoil her tour. “And how went the skateboarding? Did you collect a few bruises?”

“Haha, not yet. I didn’t try any tricks and I was probably quite clumsy but he kept encouraging me, he’s a nice guy. And ah, as for plans, he asked me whether I want to go to the photo exhibition of his friend in Boston. The guy invited them and Jeff asked me to join too.”

“That sounds great! And what kind of photos?”

“Photos of interesting graffiti. Jeff used to draw graffiti as well, did you know that? He told me a lot about himself but not in that annoying way when one is talking and talking and isn’t interested in the listener at all… this and the fact Eric defended me and they even gave me a cake… and that Jeff invited me with the bunch… make me feel they really accepted me as a member of the crew… and… oh, shit, I have to go, we have to set off for the show! Kisses for Mom and Granny!”

“Bye, take care of…” It’s needless to finish the sentence since she hung up in the meantime.

A few minutes later, I can hear the key turning in the lock and Mom literally falls in the apartment with her heavy shopping bags.

“You should have knocked, I would have helped you if you had asked me…” I shake my head and collect the apples and small cans which rolled everywhere on the ground.

“If I can give injection to Mrs. Mueller while she’s yelling at me calling me Gestapo’s slut, I can do everything…”

“Your foundation should employ octopuses, they are strong, can use their legs independently and are good listeners. And some of your clients wouldn’t even wonder if one crawled into their home…”

“That’s sure. I ask the opinion of my boss about it.” she settles to the table staring exhausted in front of herself.

“Anyway, you’ve just missed Judy’s call.”

“Damn… I wanted to hear her voice, I literally tossed Mrs. Muller into her bed to finish earlier…”

“Unfortunately you can’t see her either… I asked her about Saturday Night Live and we won’t see her in the show… But we still could watch it together, I would show you the guys and tell everything I’ve heard about them from her. We could make some popcorn and…”

“Oh, sweetie, haven’t I mentioned yet? I… I have to work…” she suddenly gets embarrassed.

“What? In the evening? On Saturday? By the time the show begins your clients are already sleeping the sleep of the just.” I complain.

“I know, but… there’s a former colleague from the hospital who works now in a nursing home. A few nurses quitted and I thought we could use the extra money so she recommended me to her boss as an occasional substitute nurse. And I begin on Saturday.”

Great. Since when have we concealed things like this from each other? I thought we could finally have a mother-daughter evening when she didn’t talk only about the insufferable old terrorists and didn’t pass out of exhaust right after dinner… she should finally relax and I need her company too, since Judy left I’ve felt like a lonely prisoner. And that’s more important than money, we don’t starve and if I got a few jobs I could contribute to our budget too, I wouldn’t be the cripple anymore who costs them a lot.

“And why didn’t you tell me that? Is it a secret or what?”

“Effie, honey, stop pouting, please. You can record it to me and we can watch it on Sunday. And I won’t even say a word if you stop it at every single shot, I’m going to listen to every single detail about these jam boys, I promise.”

“Mmmkay…” I mutter. I don’t like this patronizing voice, I’m not a toddler, I just want her to be honest with me.

“And what are you doing? Selecting pictures?”

“Yes… nothing particular…”

If she doesn’t tell me everything, why should I, right?

[thederailedtrain]

The Mark of Oblivion: Loose Ends [Three]

Like every other incubus and succubus, Cedric liked his sleep. He needed it to function - even more than humans did. Sex wasn’t the source of his abilities, just the energy he drew from. Sleep, dreams; these were the things were the center of his power. Perhaps even the center of his being. Scientific research into that theory was decidedly slim.

Once, when they’d first started working together, Kira had jokingly likened him to a cat. “Because you would sleep twenty hours a day too if you could,” she explained with a wry smile.

Kira wasn’t smiling now. Cedric wasn’t even sure if she was aware of the expression on her face right now, much less anything else. Loss of attention; one of the major warning signs of sleep deprivation. It shouldn’t have been this severe after only twenty-four hours, but most tables on the subject didn’t factor in magical exhaustion.

However, being an incubus meant Cedric knew what an accelerated time table looked like. Moreover, he knew how to deal with it. A spell was out of the question. Kira was using every ounce of neutral magic she had left to keep the Mark sealed. Enough magic that Cedric wasn’t sure he’d know where she was if he couldn’t lay eyes on her. But there was more than one way to lend someone magic.

“Stay right here,” Cedric said. He placed a hand on her shoulder, both to steady her and reassure himself of her presence. “I’m going to brew a potion that should help keep you awake.”

As Cedric turned to leave, Kira nodded in reply. It wasn’t until halfway up the stairs that he heard her voice once more. “Well, it’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

A beat later, Cedric realized she was replying to his last remark. Cognitive delays. That shouldn’t be apparent for another day at least. Cedric took the rest of the stairs two at a time.

When he finally made it back to his apartment, the first thing he noticed was Toni crouched in the doorway of his spare bedroom. “What are you…?” He began, before the answer became apparent. He spotted the chalk in her hands, recognized the runes she was drawing on his floor. A quick peek into the room told Cedric she’d already finished the ones inside. Looked like Toni decided to create the anti-magic and sealing wards the hard way.

“The quicker I get the done, the quicker I get to go home,” Toni explained, focus mainly directed at the floor. “And the quicker I can get the hell to sleep.”

“Theme of the hour,” Cedric muttered under his breath. Toni gave him a rather flat what? and he let out a sigh. “Nothing...I’m going to fix Kira a potion that will keep her awake until we can get this all sorted out. Are you all good here?”

Toni gave him a thumbs-up with her free hand while Gus replied, “Should be!” After sharing a quick nod, Gus turned back to the man he was guarding. Cedric beat a hasty exit before his eyes landed on the other occupant of the room.

“Have fun!” Toni called after his retreating form.

This wasn’t fair, Cedric couldn’t help but think. That after everything she’d been through in the last twenty-four hours, Kira had to deal with this now too. And she would have to continue dealing with it until Cedric worked out a more permenant solution. He already had a few ideas, but right now he needed to focus on making sure he didn’t mess up this potion.

Strictly speaking, he’d never made a potion to keep someone awake and ease the symptoms of exhaustion before. Cedric just threw in any ingredient he hoped would work. Everything from aubergris to coffee grounds found their way into the cauldron. In the end, it was just a sludgy grey-brown mass that was enough for three portions when passed through a sieve. Okay, that gave them about seventy-two hours.

He finished bottling the finished solution just as Toni was completing the sealing wards. Before Cedric could check in, Gus practically jumped into the hallway, letting out a small gasp of surprise. “That anti-magic spell is really weird,” he said, shaking off a chill. His eyes suddenly lit up gold and Cedric watched as he ran a tongue over his fangs, like he was checking if he was still a werewolf.

The moment he was free, Toni closed the circle around the sigil she’d drawn. Magic rippled in front of the door briefly before fading. Cedric couls still feel it there, charging the air with the barest electric hum.

“There,” Toni said, brushing off her hands as she stood. “No living being should be able to pass through this room from either side of the barrier.” She looked up at Cedric. “Please, boss, will you send me home? I’ve racked up so much overtime and my bed gets awfully lonely when I leave it for so long.”

Clever, but it’s wasn’t enough of a distraction. She placed the chalk in her pocket, where Cedric could still see the outline of the talisman. He held out a hand. Toni rolled her eyes, but handed it over without any more complaints. “Did you pick this up from Dustin?” Cedric asked, examining the object while it was dormant for this first time.

“Oh, he and I go way back,” Toni grinned. “I met him through Jasper even before he joined the Harbingers. Never liked that asshole, though.” She waited just long enough for Cedric to open his mouth in reply before adding, “So I have a night shift and I’d like to at least take a nap before-”

“Not so fast.” Cedric held up a hand. “Even after I get these potions to her, someone still needs to watch over Kira. And,” he added quickly, that hand rising again in anticipation of Toni’s protest. “You’re the only one who can use transference quickly enough if something goes wrong.”

The look on Toni’s face might’ve gotten a laugh out of him were the situation not so dire. “You expecting me to hang around here until Kira can stop herself from blowing shit up? I have a life outside this. Calling out of work tonight’s gonna be enough drama. How long is this gonna take?”

Cedric was barely able to hold himself back from saying something he’d regret. Sleep deprevation was not a good look on him. And he had to remember this was something they were all going through together - even if his demonic nature was making this a little harder on him. Only a little. “Look, you’ll still be able to get to your job tonight,” he said once he’d calmed down. “I only need you for the next few hours while I run an errand. Then you can take that nap you were hoping for.”

Okay, he might have still been a little testy. In any case, it still seemed to cool Toni’s protests. She shut her lips tightly, shaking her head.

“Alright, fine. Where’re you headed?” Toni sighed, but didn’t say anything more.

“I know an enchantress. She has a shop not too far from here and it should be open today. I was planning on making a surprise visit,” Cedric explained.

“Oh, you’re talking about Ravid, right?” Toni asked.

Cedric had to blink away his surprise. He nodded, unsure of what else to say. Then again, Toni had presumably been operating in the Otherworld for years before their paths had recently crossed. Maybe it wasn’t such a shock that she knew one of the most prestigious talisman-crafters in his Ward.

“And do you need me for anything?” Gus spoke up. Cedric found himself having to refocus his eyes to get a better look at him. Gus had been so quiet, he nearly forgot he was there. “I can, you know, guard Mill or whatever.”

“You don’t think my seals are airtight?” Toni spun around to face him. It could’ve been an accusation, but all Cedric felt from her tone and body language was teasing. Interesting.

Gus wound up floundering anyway. “No, I- I just…” He trailed off, suddenly slouching. Until that moment, Cedric hadn’t realized just how tired he looked. “Kira’s my bloody best friend. I can’t just stand here while everyone else helps out. I have to do something.”

Ah, so that’s what this was about. “Well, you’re welcome to join me when I go out,” Cedric suggested. He could sense Gus perk up. The werewolf nodded enthusiastically. “Alright, let’s run these downstairs, shall we?”

While Gus ran ahead and Toni followed behind, Cedric found himself hanging back. This whole time, he’d managed to avoid looking into the room right next to him. Now, without anyone else to focus on, it was all he could think about.

He could feel Mill in the other room. Maybe he was just paranoid and hypersensitive - the anti-magic barrier had cut off all his sensing abilities - or maybe Mill was staring at him. Cedric couldn’t bring himself to turn around and check. Just the thought twisted his gut. Yeah, it was probably for the best that he didn’t.

Breathing in deeply, Cedric forced himself to unclench his fists and begin the trek downstairs.

Along the way, his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror hanging by the door. Well, he’d certainly looked better. His hair was beginning to fall out of the coif he’d styled it into the day before and his beard...This was normally the day he shaved. Tomorrow, then.

The thing that Cedric focused the most time on were his eyes. There were the beginnings of dark circles under each, but that wasn’t what concerned him. He got as close as he could to the mirror, desperately searching his irises for any trace of red. No, still blue.

Thank the gods, Cedric thought, sighing audibly as he leaned his head against the mirror. Only another couple hours, he reminded himself, and then he could sleep again. The cravings hadn’t started yet. He had time.

Pulling himself upright again took more effort than Cedric was willing to admit. He gave himself another once over in the mirror, nodding reassurance to his reflection. However, as he did, another image came to mind. The vampire coven they’d seen on Kira’s accidental first Otherworld mission; no whites left in their eyes, every tooth pointed and dagger-like. Cedric tried not to think about his own eyes looking the same.

For Kira, Cedric reminded himself as he made his way to the shop’s basement. If nothing else, you have to do this for Kira.

By the time he got to the door, he could hear voices coming from the other side. “No way! Is that from when you blew everything up earlier?” It sounded like Gus.

“That’s my best guess,” came Kira’s response.

When Cedric made it in, he found everyone gathered around something in Kira’s hands. Once he was close enough, he realized it was her phone. By the time he was standing amongst them, he realized what had grabbed their attention. The device looked thoroughly fried.

He looked up from the phone and found its owner already staring back at him, expectant. Kira looked better than when he’d seen her last, but she still didn’t seem like her usual self. Full of life, confident, glowing-

Cedric erased the thought from his mind and focused instead on the reason he’d come down in the first place. “I made these for you,” he said, handing the vials to her.

“They’ll keep me awake?” Kira asked, inspecting the potion contents.

“That’s the intention,” Cedric replied. “And, hopefully, mitigate any ill effects of sleep deprevation. Just take one every twenty-four hours.” He paused to wince. “It...probably won’t taste great.”

“I was a freshman once upon a time. I’ve probably had worse,” Kira shrugged, opening one. She plugged her nose and downed the contents like a shot of cheap tequilla. The next second, she was coughing, which managed to draw laughs from the room’s other two occupants. “Nevermind. Forget I said anything.” When she stopped, she looked up at Cedric once more. “Thank you.”

Already he could see some of the light returning to her eyes. Cedric thanked the gods once again. “It was no trouble,” he assured her. “Now, I have to run out and see if I can find a more permenant solution. Toni will stay with you to make sure you’re okay.” Said ex-Harbinger gave an unenthusiastic wave. “But if there’s anything you need in the meantime - from your apartment or wherever - don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“Thank you, Cedric. Really,” Kira repeated, offering him a smile.

Tired and beaten down as she was, Cedric could still get lost in the curl of her lips. Could stay there for hours if he let himself. All he wanted was a moment alone with Kira, without Gus and Toni for a peanut gallery, but he knew that wasn’t a smart decision and they needed to get a move on besides.

Instead, Cedric told himself to be content with a nod in reply. Then he turned to Gus, gesturing towards the door. Gus didn’t need to be told twice. He took off running up the stairs with goodbye and a wave thrown over his shoulder.

But Cedric couldn’t bring himself to leave so casually. He had to say something. He made it to the bottom step before turning around. “We won’t be gone long,” Cedric promised, hesitating while he tried to figure out something more substantial to leave them with. “Just...stay safe.” He turned around, hurrying up the stairs before he really did get lost down there.

Gus was already at the door once he made it into the shop itself. All of the battle participants who had been nursing their wounds in the lobby had since gone home. He bounced between his feet, like a jogger stopped at a streetlight. Sometimes, that eager attitude of his was contagious.

“A moment, please,” Cedric chuckled, grabbing his coat from the end of the counter where he’d placed it earlier. He shrugged it on as he made his way over.

“Lead the way, boss,” Gus said, following behind as the pair made their way out onto the street. The bells above jingled twice before the door closed behind them.

It was still early, but the sun had already risen enough to fully brighten the street and cut though the early spring chill. This is just about when the shop is supposed to open, Cedric couldn’t help but think. He turned back around, but the lights of the shop were still off. It was unlikely they would be on before the following morning. Guilt wedged a knife into the space below his ribs. He was failing in his duties as a Warden.

Only by the time they made it to the end of the street was Cedric finally able to tear his eyes away. He had to do this, he reminded himself. Not just for Kira, but for the Otherworld as a whole. He had a duty to them and he would honor it. But this really was all about Kira, wasn’t it?

[proudbookaddict]

Rescuing Miami

by Elle Boon

ALL HOPE IS GONE…Ando thought his life was over when his fiancée dies before they had ever had a chance to live the life they planned. After the devastation of her loss, he swears he will never risk his heart again. HIS SAVING GRACE…Years later he finds a woman who makes him believe that life might be worth living again. In turn, Jules finds the one man who makes her feel things she never felt before. CAN LOVE SURVIVE…When a cult targets Jules, will Ando finally realize that love is the most important thing in the world before it is too late?

http://amzn.to/2uCVpv3 GoodReads - http://bit.ly/2vlvwN9

  Excerpt

“You’re awfully quiet. Are you sure you’re okay?” Jules asked as the sign for the hospital came into view. He nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m fine, just thinking.” Turning to see how she was reacting to the situation, Ando decided to be honest with her, or at least marginally. “I lost my fiancée in a boating accident. She fell overboard, hitting her head. I held her while she…anyway, I don’t think this little scratch is going to do me in.” He touched the bandage, his fingers came away with a red stain. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine losing someone you love like that.” She pressed trembling lips together. Ando saw her eyes glitter with tears. Holy shit, this woman who didn’t know him or anything about his past was ready to cry for his loss. Without thinking he put his hand on her thigh. “It was a long time ago.” No longer did his heart squeeze at the words. No longer did he want to go back to the past and shake Melanie, demanding answers. No, only a sense of grief for the loss of life, hers and the child even though it wasn’t his, hit him. Jules swallowed audibly. “I’m still sorry. Losing a loved one, no matter how long ago, hurts.” He wondered who she’d lost and if it was a lover. His thoughts were cut off as she pulled into the ER entrance. “I can drop you at the doors and park, or park and we can go in together?” she asked. Realizing his hand was still on her thigh, he pulled back. “Park and we’ll walk in together. I’m not an invalid even though I seem to be bleeding like a stuck pig.” She laughed, easing the tension. “You really are, aren’t you?” They found a spot in the front as another vehicle pulled out. “Eureka,” Jules said while they waited for the SUV to move. “This must be our lucky night.” She then looked at his bloody bandage, then grimaced. “Or not,” she corrected. “Come on, woman, let’s get me stitched up so I don’t need to get a transfusion,” he joked, or at least hoped he wouldn’t need one. Hell, he honestly had no clue if he’d lost enough blood to need one. “Nah, you won’t need one of those. It only seems like you’ve lost a shitton of the stuff.” She reached for the door handle. “You ready?” “You bet. Let’s get this over with. I might need to hold your hand when they stitch me up.” He grinned. Hopping down she met him in the front of the pickup, engaging the alarm with a press of the keyfob. “I highly doubt that, but I’ll stick by your side just in case you pass out.” Ando couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk and joke with Jules, a woman he’d just met. Although it could be the knock to his head. However, he doubted that had anything to do with it. The emergency room was bustling with activity. Jules seemed to know several of the workers and was immediately recognized. If they’d been in Miami, he’d have been whisked back to a private area in minutes. Now, he sat in a chair filling out paperwork while the woman who’d brought him in chatted with a man who looked old enough to be her damn uncle, or dad, and Ando didn’t like it one damn bit. He finished the last of the paperwork, then got up to turn it into the nurse at the front. She glanced up, smiled then he was taken back to a small room marked triage made up of glass enclosures. Jules was still locked in a conversation with the older man and another had joined them. So much for her sticking next to him. “Your blood pressure is a little high,” the nurse said making notes. Taking a deep breath, he looked away from Jules and the spectacle she was making. He smiled at the middle-aged nurse wearing the red scrubs, thinking it was a truly poor choice in color choice. “Sorry, try it again. I was a bit nervous.” He steadied his breathing and thought of nothing in particular. “Much better.” She made the correction, then led him into another room down the hall after getting all his vitals. “Alright, the ER Doc will be with you shortly. I’d offer you something to drink, but just in case you need surgery, which I don’t think you will, we can’t just yet.” She winked. “Now, if you need anything just press this here button. My name is Louise.” The woman left as quickly as she ushered him in. He looked at the bed and the lone chair in the small cubicle they called a room, then decided the bed looked like the best option since he’d have to sit there when the doctor came in anyway. Pulling his cellphone out of his pocket, he decided to text his sister a pic of himself with the wound. If nothing else, she’d get a kick out of his predicament. Gia’s immediate response brought a smile to his lips. Only a sister would tell her brother it was an improvement to his regular ugly mug, followed by a ‘how you doin’ meme. He let her know he was fine, and would update on the number of stiches afterwards. Of course, she wants all the details, which he’d gloss over as best he could when he got home. The sound of the curtain being pulled open had him looking up from his phone to find Jules there. “Hey there,” Jules said. **** Jules tried to paste on a happy appearance, but being waylaid by one of the officers who’d worked the night she’d saved Marietta brought her mood south. To top it off, she then had to deal with Sean, a guy she’d dated off and on, more off than on asking her about Ando and her. Jeez, couldn’t a girl catch a break from all the drama? “Hey,” Ando said. If artic glare could describe the way his dark eyes stared at her, then that was what he gave her. “Sorry I left you earlier. That was one of the cops who was on duty on a case I was involved in. He was giving me an update on it.” She shut her mouth when he narrowed his eyes. “I thought you were an EMT?” In for a penny and all that she thought. “I am, but sometimes life brings you into situations out of your control. I was walking along the beach one night and stumbled upon a scene straight out of a nightmare. Suffice it to say, I inadvertently saved a young woman’s life.” When Ando opened his mouth to ask more questions she was sure, the curtain was pulled back, saving her from having to answer and relive the horrifying night again. “Good evening, Mr. Delgado. What do we have here?” Jules stood to the side while a man in scrubs came in, his name tag said his name was Dr. Torres. “Evening, Dr. Torres. I fell off the end of the boat dock and hit my head.” Ando indicated his head. Dr. Torres went through some routine questions and tests, then pulled the bandage away. “Looks like someone cleaned you up pretty good,” he stated. “Jules here is an EMT with Dallas Fire and Rescue.” Ando’s gaze landed on her. If she didn’t know better she’d swear he sounded proud of her. “I cleaned it out and made sure there wasn’t any foreign bodies in the wound, then got him here as quickly as safety allowed.” “You did a good job. Head wounds tend to bleed like a sieve. Let’s get you stitched up and out of here quickly, son.” She met Ando’s eyes as Dr. Torres and the nurse set up the instruments needed. “You doing okay?” Ando nodded. “Yeah, I can handle it. You gonna hold my hand?” Her breath stalled in her throat. “Sure.” The word came out breathlessly. “Alright, Suzy is going to clean it up a bit more just to make sure it’s one hundred percent clean. Not that I don’t trust your abilities, young lady, but we don’t want to have anything foreign inside there when we seal him up. I’d say you’ll have about five stitches.” Dr. Torres took off his gloves and made some notes while the nurse named Suzy came forward. “This is definitely going to hurt a little.” Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, true regret rang through in her tone. Ando held his hand out toward Jules. Without hesitation she took it, entwining their fingers. “I’ll hold still, just work quickly.”

  Author Bio

Elle Boon lives in Middle-Merica as she likes to say…with her husband, two kids, and a black lab who is more like a small pony. She’d never planned to be a writer, but when life threw her a curve, she swerved with it, since she’s athletically challenged. She’s known for saying “Bless Your Heart” and dropping lots of F-bombs, but she loves where this new journey has taken her. She writes what she loves to read, and that is romance, whether it’s erotic, Navy SEALs, or paranormal, as long as there is a happily ever after. Her biggest hope is that after readers have read one of her stories, they fall in love with her characters as much as she did. She loves creating new worlds, and has more stories just waiting to be written. Elle believes in happily ever afters, and can guarantee you will always get one with her stories. Connect with Elle online, she loves to hear from you. Author Web & Social Media links:

www.elleboon.com

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