#magnets performance review

[ellieslittlewh0re]

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(���𝒌) 5k

〚𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒〛 ✰ rockerstar! ellie x groupie! reader ✰

〚𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒〛 ellie williams. her name was everywhere- the underground music’s next breakout star, and for a good reason too- a honeyed voice mixed with gravel, her passion, energy, the fact she was everything rock and roll should be. also, let’s not forget the sex appeal.

〚𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒〛 sex, love, drugs, and rock and roll. !!TW!! for descriptions of drug usage ( c0cain, L$D) fingering (r! receiving), oral (r! receiving), strap on usage (r! receiving) overstim kinda, dom e!, sub r!

It started with a video- a grainy, shity quality one at that, but still a video. She was center stage of some grungy bar from the looks of it, spotlights illuminating her face enough to see stands of her hair sticking to her forehead with sweat, and a chipped cherry red electric guitar hanging from her shoulder. She was magnetic, hypnotizing- not just with her performance, but her looks as well.

From that day on, you just had the desire to get closer to her in any way you could.

-

It had been two months since you started following her band while they toured across the West Coast. You had been to every show, seen every performance, and Ellie was starting to catch on.

The first time she saw you, you immediately caught Ellie's attention- I mean, how could you not? You were by far the hottest girl in the venue that night, swinging your hips so effortlessly it put the rest of the girls to shame. Ellie remembers that night vividly because she was so pissed she couldn't find you after the show to bring you back to her shitty motel room and have her way with you. But Ellie quickly forgot about you when the company of two other girls took your place that night, along with a few too many hits of whatever her drug of choice was during that time.

So, that's how you ended up here- at a run down gas station bathroom touching up your makeup in the middle of the fucking desert, and a van full of strangers that you were currently hitching a ride with waiting outside at the pumps.

And Ellie? Well, Ellie was doing what she always does before a show- drugs, and lots of them, whether it was molly, coke, weed, tabs, or maybe even a deadly concoction of all the above, she didn't care as long as it made her feel alive- claiming it made her perform better or something, but really she just liked being fucked up while fucking girls after the show.

While Ellie was living this "glamorous" rockstar lifestyle, you were on the complete opposite end- quitting your day job to follow some girl around who doesn't even know your name and catching rides from people who definitely look like they have seen the inside of a prison cell- AKA, you were a groupie.

The air was hot, stale. A thin layer of orangy, rust-colored sand coated the windows and the van's gaudy upholstery. The landscape outside flashed like an old fashioned reel movie, cacti, shrubs, Joshua trees, and repeat.

It was desolate, and if the road and occasional mile marker wasn't there to remind you, you would've thought you were on a different planet.

"Your stop is next, daisy." The man with a handle bar mustache yelled from the drivers seat, meeting your eyes in the review mirror.

Daisy. A nickname given to you by the group when they first picked you up further up north. You had a daisy tucked behind your ear, and from then on, you were daisy.

-

It was dark by the time you arrived at the venue, venue isn't really how you would describe it. It was more like a diner turned bar turned into whatever the fuck it was currently. You waved your goodbyes to the the group of not-so-strange strangers, all of them bidding you 'farewells' and 'good lucks' before you watched the red tails fade into the pitch dark of the desert.

For once, you were early. Turns out a bunch of traveling hippies and outcasts aren't on a timed schedule, who knew?

Even though you were early, the dirt patch of a parking lot was packed, cars in various stages of deterioration lining the sides of the building, and people gathering outside to avoid the cramped interior. But you weren't here to socialize or drink and get high- you just wanted to see her, dance to the strum of her guitar, and let her voice consume and overtake you.

It was 40-ish minutes past midnight, meaning Ellie and her band were late, but that's not a surprise. She had a bad habit of keeping the people waiting, but she was a busy girl- hanging out backstage or at a hotel, a room full of girls for her to pick from, and no shortage of drugs and alcohol. But tonight, she went a little too overboard. Her band mates were practically carrying her across the motel parking lot to their van, trying to get her to sober up on the way to the venue with water and motivational speeches that mostly consisted of "get your fucking shit together".

The short 30 minute drive to the venue was barely long enough to get Ellie back in the right state of mind. She was slightly unsteady on her feet, and her speech was a little slurred, but she's used to preforming under these conditions.

You waited patiently of course, babying a strong cocktail mix since you didn't dare get drunk and risk not remembering every detail of the night- every detail of her.

When the crowd shifted their attention to the back entrance of the building, silent murmurs at first before a load cheer erupting was when you knew, she was here, and she looked like heaven- a black tank top that was torn near the neckline, a studded belt loosely securing a pair of baggy, black patchwork cargo pants.

The crowd parted a pathway for her as she made her way through the room with her bandmates following behind, a cigarette tucked between her lips as she'd occasionally stop to sign whatever was thrown at her- a piece of paper, cash, a pair of tits- which she'd always happily comply, but if she saw a girl she liked, she would lick her pointer finger and index, smearing part of her signature on their cleavage while the marker was still wet to subtly let you know that she wanted your company for the night- at least, that's the rumor you've heard.

You found yourself holding your breath- she was so close, a mere body or two keeping you at arm's length from her. You could smell the cigarette smoke, and see the details of her chipped black nail polish holding the marker between her fingers.

Ellie hands the notebook and marker back into the wave of hands, looking up while blowing out a cloud of smoke, and that's when she sees you. She was about to walk off, but she stopped for a second. You don't look like you belong- you were different, sweet, and innocent-looking compared to the rest of the audience. But she doesn't let her eyes linger long, she has a show to put on after all.

She turned, and walked towards the stage stairs, and centered herself behind the mic. She shifted her weight on her feet, and took one last drag of the cigarette before suffocating the embers on a ashtray near the edge of the stage.

"How's everyone doing tonight?" She barely could make out before the crowds hollering drowned out her voice. She laughed into the mic while plugging a cord into her guitar that was connected to a beefy looking amp.

Her ego was at its biggest right now- just her mere appearance could make a group of strangers act like dogs, and she fucking loved it.

She played a few cords on the guitar, ensuring the tune was where she wanted it before looking back up into the crowd, "c'mon, you can do better than that." And even though her mouth was covered by the mic, you could tell she was smirking.

The crowd cheered louder, fists clenched high above the sea of heads, and chanted her name over and over exactly how she wanted them to.

And for you? Well, you were also chanting her name, maybe not as loud, but you were too busy squeezing your way through to get to the front.

She needed to be able to see you.

And she did see you- you were front row, playfully singing and dancing along, your bright, twinkling eyes boring into every little thing she did- from the way she'd run her hand through the front of her hairline, ridding her face of the baby hairs and bangs, down to the way her fingers curled over the frets of her guitar. She made sure to look elsewhere into the crowd, interacting with everyone, but her eyes always found themselves back on you.

-

Ellie closed out the show with an encore, most of the crowd was overly intoxicated at this point, stumbling, and starting meaningless fights with whoever was closest- aka the usual time you'd leave, but you couldn't, at least, not when Ellie was walking towards you, her eyes set on you. You glanced to your right then your left- confused, and definitely was searching for an explanation as to why she was getting closer. Surely, it was someone else who caught her attention, but it was only you nearby.

You take a step back from the stage as the tips of her dirty converse near the edge. She bends down at the knees before sitting all together, dangling her legs over the edge. She doesn't say anything, and you didn't either, maybe from intimidation mixed with confusion as to why she chose to sit here out of all places.

She reaches her tattooed arm behind, shifting her weight to pull out a pack of cigarettes, and offering the carton to you, but you shyly decline. She smirked, a dimple deepening on the one side of her cheek, "So-" She said, her voice momentarily muffled by the cigarette between her lips, "-you don't look like you're from here, where'd you come from, baby?" She ignited the end with a metal lighter, holding a free hand up to cover the flame which only amplified the warm glow of the flame on her face.

You chuckled a nervous laugh, looking down at your fingers as she blew out a puff of smoke, "M' not. I'm from up north. " Your voice trembled, leaking with submission and uncertainty which only fascinated her more, but also she was frustrated- most girls wouldn't need a conversation to know what Ellie wanted from them, and you weren't looking at her.

She grabs your hand, and pulls you closer to the space between her knees. A sharp breath gets caught in your throat as she does this, your cheeks hot, and your gut feels like it's jumping being this close to her- enough to smell the fumes of her cologne mixed with ash. You watch her fingers come up and hover over your chest, her fingers gently dancing along the skin of your clavicle to examine the charm of your necklace, but really it was just a flirtation tactic to her.

"What's a girl like you doing in the desert in the middle of the night, huh?" She asked, dropping her voice down to an almost whisper- raspy, and thick with suggestion. You shake your head side to side, a nervous tick of yours when you felt uncomfortable, but being uncomfortable isn't always a bad thing.

"I uh-" you paused, mentally wavering if you should tell the truth since it does seem a little pathetic. "-I wanted to see you play."

Ellie's eyebrows raise, her bottom lip puckering into a frown with a slight nod. "Is that so?" She hummed, rolling the edges of the charm between her fingers. Ellie was certain she had seen you before. It wasn't a trick of the light or getting your face confused with some other hot chick- you were unmistakable. But she didn't want you to know that she found you out, not yet, not now.

Ellie learned in further, your knees almost buckling out from under you, feeling her breath against your lips. She played it off like she was getting a closer look at your necklace, extending the religious symbolic charm out so the chain tugged on your neck. "Do you believe?" She asked, still looking at the damn necklace, furrowing her brows like she was in a deep philosophical thought.

You swallowed dryly, wishing you still had your drink from easier, "N-not really-" you stuttered, "it was a gift from when I was younger."

Ellie chuckled, but it wasn't lighthearted or sweet- it was dark, methodical, and a tad bit sadistic.

She released the charm from her fingers, letting it hit your bare chest with a muted thud before looking up. Her eyes were a darker shade than you remembered them being- irises blown out and framed beautifully by a thick band of dark eyelashes.

Her hand reached out and gently grabbed you by the wrist before yanking you closer so your tummy was flush with the side of the stage, leaving only a few inches between your tits and the denim of her crotch.

You inhaled a sharp, breathy yelp as she did this, your hands not knowing what to do or where to divert your eyes- her hands on you, her face so close to yours that you could count the freckles on her cheeks, even the ones that are faint enough to miss- or maybe how her thighs were drifting apart, and you were in between them.

Her hand comes up, which causes you to squeeze your eyes shut, but the wrinkles around your eyes relax as you feel her hand on your face and her lips on yours. You moaned instantly at the contact, resting your hand on her thigh where it felt most comfortable. Ellie took this opportunity to slip her tongue inside, using the muscle to work against yours. Her hand snakes down your side, squeezing the soft flesh of your hip before pulling away, leaving you breathless, and hazy.

Her eyes were intense looking into yours, her lips wet and craving a deeper satisfaction.

She only said one thing, a simple sentence that would separate you from being just some regular fan,

"Come with me tonight, and I'll show you something worth believing."

-

So that's how your night shifted- how one decision to follow some band across the state had finally paid off because now you were here- a hotel room, alone with the band's most valuable member snorting lines of a white powdery substance off of a mirror topped end table.

Ellie held the rolled 20 between her fingers, putting the end of it to her nose while the index on her other closed the opposing nostril shut. She dragged the end of the cylinder across the smuggled surface, inhaling deeply until the white line disappeared behind it.

"Fuuck-" She sighed, throwing her head back, and swipes the bottom of her nose with her thumb,

"Here-" She held out the rolled 20 for you to take, but you lean away,

"I don't do that stuff."

She looks at you curiously, a furrow between her brows that suggests she found your refusal even more entertaining.

Ellie leaned forward and turned her body to face you on the edge of the dusty duvet, "What-" She scoffed, "'think you're too good for it?"

You shook your head violently, indicating a 'no', "No- no, that's not what I meant-"

Ellie laughed, causing you to stop mid-sentence, "I'm just fucking with you, doll. I should've known." She smiles, and you return the smile in relief that you didn't actually offend her.

Your eyes divert to the wallpapered walls- a faint pattern of stripes with cream-colored baseboards, a warm yellowed lamp on the bedside being the only source of light in the room to contrast the night outside.

You felt her hand creep up your thigh, tempting the skin below the hem of your dress before it disappeared underneath the fabric altogether. She leaned in, her other hand on your face to encourage you closer, whispering a "so soft" in a raspy breath before connecting your lips with hers.

It started slow- her lips overlapping yours like a soft current on a still morning before it turned into a ranging one during a windy cast. You moaned into her- soft and delicate mews between each detachment, and it fueled her.

Ellie's body overpowered yours, using her strength to her advantage. But it's not like she needed it- you were putty in her hands, fully committing yourself to her, letting her push you into your back, and her body hovering on top of yours.

You squirmed beneath her- each bump, and drag of her knee between your legs left you feeling more desperate.

"Ellie-" you broke the kiss in a breathless euphoria, looking up at her with a needy expression. Ellie knew that face well- it's not like she had all this experience and didn't know what to do with it, so- she got up, leaving you alone on the bed, and walked over to a black duffle bag decorated with pins of miscellaneous logos and bands.

She riffled through it, pulling a small clear plastic bag out before joining you back on the bed.

She opened the baggie, pulling something out no bigger than the size of a postage stamp, and tearing it into smaller halves before looking up,

"Do you trust me?" She asked, her green eyes piercing into yours, causing a wet sensation to spill from the heat between your legs. You swallowed, not really sure what you were agreeing to, but you nodded anyway, "Yes, Ellie... I trust you."

She placed the colorfully decorated paper on her tongue and held the sides of your face, kissing you and slipping her tongue inside, transferring whatever it was into your mouth before pulling away. "Swallow." She demanded, tilting your face up by your chin, and you did it without hesitation- straining the walls of your throat as the mystery stamp slid downwards.

She smirked, and swiped her thumb over your bottom lip, "good girl."

She followed it up by doing the same, placing the tab on her tongue and swallowing, but she made it seem so much more intentional like a ritual of some sorts.

Ellie leaned away from you in the bed to rest her back against the headboard and pillows, "C'mere" she said nonchalantly, patting her thighs.

With shaky knees, you did as you were told and crawled your way up her legs until you were straddling her waist.

Her hands come up to rest on your hips, her thumbs tracing circles through the flimsy fabric of your dress, "so obedient" she said lightly, almost under her breath to herself and not at you directly. 

Her hands started to wander- first on your hips, then down to your thighs, gliding them up to the plush beneath your skirt. You felt her fingertip squeeze and caress, sending chills up your spine and a hot/cold sensation throughout your body.

Next, her lips were on yours, and her fingers were tightening the follicles on the back of your scalp as the kisses became more intense. Your back instinctively arches, and you reach a hand between your legs to soothe the ache, but she stops you with a firm grip on your wrist, "Gettin' impatient, huh?" She said in a cocky tone, smirking against your lips. You whimpered- nodding your head, and grabbed her hand, inching it closer to your core.

Ellie chucked at this- the kind of chuckle that was half way a scoff, and half way felt like an insult.

"Damn- you need me to fill you up that bad? 'thought you were one of them good girls."

She tisked her tongue against her teeth, but still let you guid her hand where you needed her.

The back of her knuckles grazed between the pillowy folds over your panties, going agonizingly slow before turning her hand over to fully palm your cunt.

You melt on top of her, resting your head against her shoulder, all the while dragging your hips against her hand.

She turns her head, her warm breath fanning against the helix of your ear, "You're so wet and I've barely touched you."

Her words echoed throughout your brain like her voice waves were sending signals to every part of your body. And her touch was magnified- each cell, fiber, and pore was experiencing a new sense of heightened, whether it be because of the drugs or not, you couldn't be sure.

"El-Ellie, please... need you."

Your words rang a siren song to Ellie's ears, creating a sticky pool between her own legs. She muttered a guttural "fuck" before she grabs you by the sides of your thighs, flipping you over so she was on top of you.

She was already yanking down your underwear, and tossing them to the side before you could comprehend what was happening. You felt her fingers stinging to the flesh of your thighs, prying them apart like she couldn't wait to see you, to taste you.

You sucked in a sharp breath as her tongue lightly traced a line down your folds before her lips met your clit where she pulsated the bud between her lips, letting out a moan as she made contact, "fuuck-" She curses before flicking her tongue over your bundle of nerves, igniting a colorful array of shapes behind your tightly closed eyes.

She was messy but precise- using her tongue along with the motion of her head to send you that much further. Your fingers tangled in her hair, tugging harder the closer you got which was the perfect time in Ellie's eyes to add a finger.

She slowly pushed her middle finger inside, stopping halfway at her knuckle to let you adjust before slamming it all the way till her knuckles were snug against your puffy lips.

You wriggled beneath her, reaching out to push her away with a palm to her shoulder, but that only makes her add a second finger.

You cry out loudly through heavy breaths, the veins on her forearm coming to the surface of her skin from how much force she was using, and her mouth putting in just as much work.

You were climbing higher and higher, the peripheral of your vision going white-

"Ellie... I'm- I'm gonna-" You don't have much time to warn her before your body starts to spaz, starting at your hips and up into your chest like volts of electricity through a highly active current.

Your knees close around her head, your back arching high off the mattress, and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. She slows her pace as you come down before pulling her fingers out and lifting her head.

With your eyes closed, and an arm draped over your face, you feel her pat the inside of your thigh before her weight leaves the bed.

She comes back a couple of minutes later, only opening your eyes when you feel her weight return to the mattress.

Your eyes go wide as you take notice of the new attachment- a black, strappy harness with buckles near her hips, and a crude shaped silicone cock bulging at her crotch.

She lowers herself over you, her hands on each side of your head before she leans down to kiss you, slipping her tongue inside. She pulled back, momentarily admiring the way you looked just from something as simple as oral and some fingering- glossy eyes, puffy lips smeared with her spit, and if she looked down- how your inner thighs glistened.

Her lips trial from yours, staring at your neck, then your chest, and finally your tits which Ellie had absolutely no problem with pulling the straps down to expose them, leaving the fabric bunched around your stomach. In her eyes, everything she wanted- no, needed was accessible this way.

Ellie looks up, placing a delicate kiss on the skin of your lower stomach, "Got one more fr' me, pretty girl?" She asked softly, tenderly, but it still managed to come off more intimidating than a question should sound.

You nodded shyly, a small whine emitting from the back of your throat, looking down at her with your breasts out for her viewing, grabbing pleasure, and your legs spread wide, ready to take her.

She lifted her upper half up, slim fingers holding the base of her cock, and lined the artificial tip with your entrance. She glided the tip up your folds, coating it with your slick, and let out a sultry exhale since she could practically see your walls clenching around nothing in preparation for her.

She teased you for a bit- only giving you a couple of inches before backing away and repeating, each time causing you to whine harder and harder out of frustration. Sure, Ellie was having her fun watching you squirm, grab for her, and fuck- how your hole gapped each time she pulled out, a clear, viscous fluid leaking from it, but she was growing just as impatient- feeling your legs wrap around her waist, pulling her closer, pleading variations of her name and "please" and who is she to deny you when you ask so nicely?

She thrusts her hips forward until her crotch was flesh with your ass, your legs in the air, and her hands pushing on the back of your thighs.

"Is this what you wanted, huh?" She gritted, pulling her hips back only to snap them forward again.

You cried out loudly, curling your fingers around the bedsheets until the blood stopped circulating, turning the skin there a lighter shade than the rest of you.

She pushed harder on the back of your thighs- your knees pressed up against your chest, and using what you can imagine is all of her strength to thrust into you. She was reaching the deepest part of your cervix- grunting and moaning on Ellie's end while you mewled high-pitched noises mixed with the wet slapping of her cock repeatedly slamming into you.

Ellie's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly upward, and her lips parted as insufficient, short breaths seep from them. Her hips started to falter from the endless abuse her clit was suffering behind the base of her strap, her boxers now a sticky, cold mess that stuck to her cunt and thighs.

She collapses on top of you, snugging herself between your legs to connect her lips to yours in a desperate effort, overpowering all your senses with her. She continues to fill you over and over again, both of you moaning in between breathless lips.

You wrapped her arms around her as her head hung low into your neck, digging your nails into the skin of her shoulder blades.

"El... mmhm- I'm gonna-" You babbled before biting your lip to silence the cry that was bubbling in the back of your throat, and Ellie wasn't far behind.

The pistoning motions of her hips turned into a grinding one- keeping a steady pace and rolling her hips forward, "M-me too- fuck... stay with me, yeah?" She said in between soft pants, the warmth of her breath brushing against your lips as her hand came up to gently but firmly wrap around your neck.

Ellie's head goes fuzzy as you looked up at her with your half-hooded gaze and your perfectly rosette lips that are just begging to be wrapped around something, so- she released the hold she had on your neck and brought her two fingers that were previously inside of you to your mouth.

She didn't even have to say anything for you to part your lips wider, slipping her fingers inside and rolling them over your tongue.

You moan, closing your lips around her as her fingers reach further back, causing tears to fall from the corner of your eyes.

"That's it-" She coaxed, her eyes focused on the split trailing down your chin,"-such a good girl."

She motioned her fingers in and out in a vulgar manner, bitting her bottom lip before pulling her fingers out all together to fist the bed sheets beside her.

"Fuckfuckfuck-oh my god-" She grunted incoherently, dropping her head to space between your neck and shoulder. Her forehead glistened with proof of her efforts as she rushed the pace to ease the itch between her legs.

You tightened your legs around her waist, pretty little noises falling on Ellie's ears as you both peak.

She rolls her hips- making it slow and deep until your voice grows tired and quiet before pushing her upper half away from you.

You wince at her absence, feeling your walls retract back to its original shape like the sand inside of an hourglass.

She plopped down beside you with an exaggerated sigh of exhaustion, pulling up the bottom of her tank top to wipe the slick/sweat mixture from her chin and nose, giving you a few seconds to admire her hardened stomach and prominent 'v' which lead your eyes down to the fake dick still standing high between her thighs.

She catches you looking, the corner of her lips tugging into a smirk as she lets out a low chuckle.

You meet her eyes, realizing you have been caught, which causes you to look away quickly, but her hand grabs yours.

"Gettin' shy on me now after all that?" She said, pulling at your hand to silently instruct you to get on top of her, so you did.

Her hands rub up and down your thighs, and her bottom lip snug between her teeth. She eyes your body, starting from your tits down to her cock that is resting against your lower stomach.

"Wanna do me a favor?" She asked, palming the fat of your thigh that spilled over the heels of your feet. You hummed at her- a sweet, genuine hum that was full of eagerness to assist her, which almost made Ellie feel bad for what she was about to say- key word almost.

"Put that pretty little mouth of yours to use and clean me up."

[w1w2]

Number One Girl

Part 2 of Stay A Little Longer

Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 10k

Synopsis: Two years after their painful breakup, Y/N and Roseanne cross paths again, reigniting unresolved emotions and a love they thought was lost.

Rosé - number one girl "Your one and only So what's it gon' take for you to want me?"

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

October arrived with a crisp chill, painting Seoul in hues of amber and gold. Y/N sat on the edge of her sofa, nursing a warm cup of tea as the sun dipped below the skyline, its fading light spilling into her apartment. The room exuded quiet comfort, the kind of space carefully curated to feel like home, but even its warmth couldn’t banish the faint ache in her chest.

Two years had passed since she packed her life into boxes and walked away from the only person who had ever truly known her. Yet, the memory of Roseanne lingered like a bittersweet melody, refusing to fade completely.

Y/N traced the rim of her mug absently, her gaze fixed on the framed photograph sitting on the bookshelf across the room. It was one of the few relics she hadn’t packed away after their breakup. The image was of Hank, Rosie’s dog, sitting between them on a bright summer day. Their smiles in the picture were carefree, unguarded. It hurt to look at it, but she couldn’t bring herself to hide it away.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, jolting her from her thoughts. She reached for it, her brows furrowing as a flood of notifications lit up the screen.

“Rosé’s New Single Featuring Bruno Mars Takes Charts by Storm!”

“Party Anthem of the Year: Rosé Dominates with Latest Release!”

Y/N clicked on one of the headlines almost reflexively. A glossy photo of Roseanne lit up the screen, her radiant smile and confident aura commanding attention. The article praised her electrifying performance and the catchy hook of her new single, calling it a global sensation. Y/N’s lips quirked into a faint smile despite herself. She could almost hear Rosie’s voice, layered over the infectious beat, as she read the glowing reviews.

Scrolling further, she found a video clip of an interview. Against her better judgment, she pressed play. Roseanne appeared on screen, her blonde hair falling in effortless waves around her face. She looked poised but carried a familiar warmth in her demeanor as she talked about the creative process behind the song.

“It’s a little different from what I’ve done before,” Roseanne admitted with a laugh. “But I wanted something fun, something that made people want to move.”

The sight of her, so vibrant, so magnetic, sent a pang through Y/N’s chest. She set the phone down, staring at the floor as memories stirred unbidden.

The nights spent in their tiny apartment came rushing back. Roseanne perched on the couch with her guitar, the melody of an unfinished song drifting through the room, Y/N’s attempts to distract her with jokes, or bribe her with takeout when the creative process ran long. The way Rosie’s laughter would fill the space, a sound Y/N once thought she could never live without.

Her chest tightened. She shook her head, willing the memories away. What was the point of dwelling on a past she couldn’t change?

The shrill ring of her phone cut through her thoughts. She glanced at the screen. Jennie.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before answering. “Hey, Jen.”

“Hey, stranger,” Jennie’s familiar voice chimed on the other end, cheerful and warm. The sound was a welcome break in Y/N’s otherwise quiet evening, and she couldn’t help but smile faintly. “Don’t tell me you’re working late again.”

“I’m not,” Y/N replied, sinking further into the couch and tucking her legs beneath her. “Just… having a quiet evening.”

Jennie hummed knowingly, a playful lilt in her voice. “You? Quiet evening? That’s code for sulking alone with Netflix and takeout, isn’t it?”

Y/N huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. “You caught me. Minus the takeout.”

“Well, I’ve got the perfect way to change that,” Jennie declared. There was a note of triumph in her tone, as if she had been planning this all along. “I’m hosting a little gathering this weekend at my house. Just a small thing with close friends. Good food, good drinks, no pressure.”

Y/N leaned her head against the back of the couch, letting the words sink in. She could already picture Jennie in her kitchen, effortlessly juggling appetizers and cocktails while effortlessly charming everyone in the room. The image was comforting, but the idea of being around people again still gave her pause.

“I don’t know, Jennie,” she said hesitantly, her voice soft. “It’s been a while since I’ve gone to something like that.”

“That’s exactly why you should come,” Jennie pressed, her voice dropping into that persuasive tone Y/N knew too well. “You’ve been holed up for way too long. Besides, it’s not a big party or anything. Just us, close friends, no drama, no stress. You’ll have fun, I promise.”

Y/N bit her lip, toying with the edge of the blanket draped over her lap. She knew Jennie meant well, and a part of her did want to go. It had been too long since she’d seen Jennie, too long since she’d let herself just… exist in the company of others.

After the breakup, Jennie had been a lifeline. She was the one who dragged Y/N out of bed on her worst days, who sent random memes to make her laugh, who showed up with coffee and snacks when Y/N needed them most. Jennie had been one of the few constants in Y/N’s life when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

Y/N sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself. “Alright,” she said finally. “I’ll come.”

“Yes!” Jennie’s excited cheer was so loud that Y/N had to pull the phone away from her ear. “I promise you won’t regret it. And dress cute, I know you’ve been living in sweatpants, but this is a chance to remind everyone how amazing you are. Got it?”

“Got it,” Y/N replied, laughing softly at Jennie’s relentless enthusiasm.

“Great! I’ll text you the details. See you then!”

The call ended with a click, leaving Y/N staring at her phone. For the first time in what felt like ages, a flicker of anticipation broke through the lingering melancholy that had become her constant companion. She set the phone down and leaned back against the cushions, her mind already racing with thoughts about the weekend.

She trusted Jennie to keep things relaxed, to make the evening as effortless as she had promised. And though Y/N was apprehensive about stepping out of her cocoon of solitude, she also felt a small, hopeful spark at the idea of reconnecting with old friends.

What Y/N didn’t know, what Jennie hadn’t mentioned, was that Roseanne would also be there.

Jennie’s villa stood like a beacon of modern luxury in the heart of UN Village, its large windows spilling warm golden light into the cool October evening. Y/N approached the entrance with hesitant steps, adjusting the sleeves of her suit jacket. The outfit was simple yet striking, a fitted, single-button blazer in a deep charcoal gray paired with cropped trousers and a soft cream blouse left casually untucked at one side. Her choice of white sneakers added a laid-back edge, balancing the look between casual and elegant.

She paused to smooth her hair, inhaling deeply before stepping up to the door. The crisp evening air carried faint hints of autumn leaves and laughter from inside, a stark contrast to the quiet she had grown used to.

Jennie greeted her the moment she stepped inside, her sharp eyes immediately sweeping over Y/N with an approving smile. “Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence!”

Y/N rolled her eyes lightly but couldn’t help smiling. “You act like I’m impossible to get a hold of.”

“You practically are,” Jennie teased, pulling her into a warm hug. As she stepped back, her gaze lingered appreciatively. “But seriously, you look amazing. Who knew you could make a suit look that good?”

A flush crept up Y/N’s neck, and she laughed softly. “Just trying something different.”

“Well, keep doing it,” Jennie said with a grin, looping her arm through Y/N’s. “Now, come on. I have to show you off, and make sure you grab a drink before the others steal all my attention.”

The villa was alive with energy. Guests filled the spacious living room and spilled out onto the terrace, where a fire pit crackled beneath the night sky. Soft jazz played in the background, mingling with the sound of glasses clinking and cheerful chatter. Y/N recognized several familiar faces: Irene and Seulgi of Red Velvet chatting by the bar, Nayeon and Jihyo from Twice laughing over drinks, and the unmistakable presence of actress Hoyeon Jung, effortlessly stunning in a tailored suit.

Jennie guided her through the crowd, expertly navigating the lively buzz of the gathering. With each stop, she introduced Y/N to a mix of familiar faces and new ones, her effortless charm putting everyone at ease. “Help yourself to anything,” Jennie said after a brief introduction to an indie actor Y/N vaguely recognized. She gestured toward the lavish spread of food and drinks set up in the dining area. “Seriously, make yourself at home, okay? No standing awkwardly in corners allowed.”

Y/N chuckled and nodded, appreciating Jennie’s genuine warmth and the gentle nudge. But even as she made her way to the long table laden with delicate appetizers and sparkling drinks, the faint unease in her chest refused to dissipate.

The villa was alive with conversation and laughter, the atmosphere light and inviting. Yet, as Y/N reached for a glass of wine, her fingers brushed against the stem awkwardly, betraying the nervous energy she was trying to suppress. She scanned the room, the elegant furnishings and glimmering lights blending into a soft blur of activity.

She tried to shake it off, telling herself it was just the unfamiliarity of being around so many people again. But deep down, she knew it was more than that.

After browsing the appetizers, choosing a small plate more for something to do than actual hunger, Y/N slipped toward the terrace doors. The cool glass felt grounding beneath her fingertips as she stepped just shy of the threshold, a glass of wine in hand. She watched the guests gathered outside, their laughter rising against the backdrop of the flickering fire pit. The golden light danced over their faces, casting warm, moving shadows.

The open air and soft hum of conversation were comforting. She exhaled slowly, letting her shoulders relax for the first time that evening. Maybe Jennie was right. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

Her mind began to drift as she sipped her wine. Flashes of memories bubbled up, late nights spent laughing in another cozy setting, another warm space filled with music and quiet intimacy. Y/N quickly shook the thoughts away, focusing instead on the present, the firelight, the soft glow of fairy lights strung along the terrace railing.

She was just beginning to let the tension melt when it happened, a subtle shift in the energy of the room.

It was almost imperceptible at first, like the faintest ripple in still water. A hushed pause in conversations, a collective glance toward the entryway. And then Y/N felt it, the unmistakable pull of a presence she had spent two years trying to forget.

Roseanne had arrived.

The air seemed to hum with her arrival, her presence magnetic even in a room full of stars. Dressed in an effortlessly chic ensemble, a fitted black turtleneck paired with a high-waisted silk skirt that shimmered faintly in the light, she carried herself with quiet confidence. Her blonde waves framed her face perfectly, and the soft glow of the villa’s lights highlighted the delicate contours of her features.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as their eyes met across the room.

The world seemed to narrow in that moment, all noise fading into a distant hum. Roseanne’s polite smile faltered, just briefly, as her gaze locked with Y/N’s. Her almond-shaped eyes held a mixture of emotions Y/N couldn’t quite place, surprise, maybe even longing.

Y/N’s grip tightened around her glass, her pulse quickening. She turned her attention back to the terrace, feigning interest in the view, but her heart raced in her chest. The ease she had begun to feel moments ago evaporated, replaced by the familiar ache she had been trying to bury.

Jennie greeted Roseanne warmly, pulling her into a brief hug before steering her toward the group by the bar. Y/N could feel her presence even from a distance, the hum of tension now impossible to ignore.

She took a steadying sip of her wine, willing herself to stay calm. This was just a coincidence, she told herself. A moment she could navigate with poise, no matter what emotions it stirred within her.

But as she turned her gaze back toward the room, the weight of Roseanne’s arrival lingered, like a chord unresolved.

“Y/N,” Irene called from nearby, her warm voice cutting through the haze of Y/N’s thoughts. “Come join us!”

Y/N blinked, jolted out of her daze. She turned to see Irene standing with few others by the bar, her hand raised in a beckoning gesture. Grateful for the distraction, Y/N forced a smile and made her way over, her steps steady despite the nervous energy swirling within her.

“Thought you were going to hide by the terrace all night,” Irene teased as Y/N approached.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Y/N replied with a soft laugh, raising her glass in mock defense.

Seulgi grinned, her relaxed demeanor immediately putting Y/N at ease. “Jennie would drag you back if you tried.”

“That sounds about right,” Y/N said, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.

The group’s conversation flowed easily, a mix of lighthearted jokes and anecdotes. Irene shared a funny story about an ill-timed wardrobe malfunction during a recent performance, drawing laughter from everyone, including Y/N. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to relax, letting the warmth of the group’s camaraderie wash over her.

But no matter how much she tried to stay present, her focus kept straying back to Roseanne.

She was across the room now, standing near Jennie and Hoyeon. The soft rise and fall of her laughter floated over the hum of conversations, faint but unmistakable. Y/N’s eyes found her almost instinctively, tracing the graceful way Roseanne gestured with her hands as she spoke, the subtle tilt of her head when she listened.

Roseanne’s smile, polite and poised, reminded Y/N of countless moments they had shared, from quiet nights on their couch to bursts of laughter over shared inside jokes. It was a smile that had once belonged solely to Y/N, and the ache of seeing it from a distance now was almost too much to bear.

“Earth to Y/N,” Irene’s voice cut in, her tone amused.

Y/N startled slightly, realizing Irene’s sharp gaze was fixed on her. “Sorry, what?”

Seulgi smirked knowingly, glancing in the direction Y/N had been looking. “You’ve been quiet. Not like you.”

“I’m just… tired,” Y/N lied, taking a sip of her wine to mask her unease.

“Right,” Irene said, her tone suggesting she didn’t believe a word of it. But she didn’t push, instead steering the conversation back toward lighter topics.

As the group dissolved into another round of jokes, Y/N laughed along, though the sound felt hollow in her chest. Her gaze drifted back toward Roseanne again, unbidden, and she caught a fleeting moment where their eyes met across the room. Roseanne’s expression softened, a flicker of something Y/N couldn’t quite name crossing her features before she turned back to Jennie.

Y/N tore her gaze away, her pulse quickening. She could feel the weight of her unresolved emotions settling over her like a heavy blanket. No amount of light conversation or laughter could dull it, no matter how much she tried.

Their first exchange of the evening came unexpectedly. Y/N was returning from the kitchen with a glass of water, her fingers cool against the condensation on the glass, when she turned a corner and nearly collided with someone.

“Sorry—” she began instinctively, but the words caught in her throat as she looked up.

It was Roseanne.

Y/N’s breath hitched as her eyes met Roseanne’s, a rush of familiarity crashing over her like a wave. Roseanne stood close, too close, her floral perfume filling the small space between them. It was the same scent Y/N remembered from countless quiet mornings and shared embraces, stirring memories she had worked so hard to bury.

“Hey,” Roseanne said quietly, her voice low and tentative.

The single syllable felt like a thread pulling at Y/N’s carefully stitched-together composure. “Hi,” she managed, though her pulse quickened as if her body had yet to catch up with her calm tone.

For a moment, they simply stood there, caught in a silent bubble that felt removed from the laughter and music echoing through the villa. The air between them was charged, thick with unspoken words and emotions that neither seemed ready to voice.

Roseanne’s eyes softened, something unreadable flickering across her features as she looked at Y/N. There was a tension in her expression, a hesitance that belied the confidence she carried so effortlessly in front of others.

“You look…” Roseanne began, pausing briefly as if searching for the right words. “Good.” Her tone was careful, almost fragile, as though testing the waters of an unfamiliar sea.

Y/N’s lips curved into a faint smile, though her grip on the glass in her hand tightened. “Thanks. You too,” she replied, her voice quieter than she intended.

Roseanne’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before flicking to the glass in Y/N’s hand. She shifted slightly, stepping back enough to give Y/N space to pass. The sound of laughter from the living room spilled into the hallway, breaking the fragile stillness between them.

Y/N hesitated, her feet rooted to the spot for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. She wanted to say something, anything, to fill the silence. But her mind was a jumble of racing thoughts and emotions she couldn’t untangle.

Roseanne broke the moment with a small, almost shy smile. “It’s… good to see you.”

The words hit Y/N harder than she expected, a bittersweet pang settling in her chest. She nodded, her own smile faint. “You too.”

And then it was over.

Y/N stepped past her, her footsteps steady but her heart pounding in disarray. She didn’t dare look back, but she felt Roseanne’s gaze on her as she walked away, a weight she couldn’t ignore.

As she reentered the lively atmosphere of the living room, the hum of conversation and music felt distant, muffled against the storm brewing inside her. The brief exchange played over and over in her mind, a kaleidoscope of emotions she couldn’t sort through.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of half-hearted conversations and stolen glances. Y/N noticed Jennie watching them once or twice, her sharp eyes flicking between the two women with a knowing look. But Jennie said nothing, choosing instead to redirect attention when the tension threatened to become too obvious.

As the party began to wind down, Y/N found herself retreating to one of the smaller sitting rooms at the back of the villa. The cozy space was a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere outside, its dim lighting and soft furnishings offering a quiet reprieve from the noise and energy of the gathering.

She sank into a plush armchair by the window, her gaze drawn to the garden bathed in moonlight. The soft glow illuminated the neat rows of hedges and the faint silhouettes of flowers swaying gently in the night breeze. She tried to let the stillness calm her, but the ache in her chest refused to fade.

Her thoughts spiraled, unbidden and relentless, back to Roseanne. The way her eyes had softened when they met, the faint hesitance in her voice, the magnetic pull that made it impossible for Y/N to ignore her presence. Even now, two years later, Roseanne had a way of unraveling her carefully constructed defenses with nothing more than a glance.

The soft creak of the door opening broke her reverie. Y/N turned, her breath hitching as Roseanne stepped inside, her movements slow and hesitant, as though unsure of her welcome.

“Mind if I join you?” Roseanne asked, her voice barely above a whisper, fragile yet filled with something unmistakably raw.

Y/N hesitated, her chest tightening as a torrent of emotions surged within her. She wanted to say no, to shield herself from the vulnerability that Roseanne always seemed to bring out in her. But instead, she nodded.

Roseanne crossed the room, her steps tentative, and took the seat opposite Y/N. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was thick, stretching between them like a chasm filled with all the words they had never said, all the emotions they had left unresolved.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Roseanne said finally, her hands resting nervously on her lap. Her gaze lingered on her fingers, which fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, betraying her unease.

“Neither was I,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft but steady.

The corner of Roseanne’s mouth twitched, a faint, humorless smile. “Jennie invited me. I almost didn’t come.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering through her guarded expression. “Why?”

Roseanne looked up, her eyes shimmering with vulnerability. Her voice, when she spoke, was barely audible. “Because I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing you.”

The raw honesty of her words hit Y/N like a blow, her breath catching in her throat. She looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap, and swallowed hard. “Rosie…” she began, but the words faltered. She didn’t know what to say.

Roseanne leaned back slightly, her gaze distant. “I thought it would get easier,” she said quietly. “You know… being apart. But it hasn’t. Not for me.”

The confession sent a fresh wave of emotion crashing over Y/N. She felt her chest tighten, her heart pounding in a chaotic rhythm as she grappled with her feelings. For two years, she had tried to convince herself that moving on was the right thing, that their love had been too fractured to fix. And yet, sitting here now, facing the woman she had never truly stopped loving, those justifications felt hollow.

“I miss you,” Roseanne said suddenly, her voice steady despite the vulnerability in her words. They hung in the air between them, sharp and piercing, cutting through the layers of silence and unresolved tension.

Y/N’s breath hitched. She had imagined this moment countless times, wondering what it would feel like to hear those words again. But now that they were here, she felt unmoored, adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

“I—” she began, her voice trembling. She looked away, her gaze fixed on the window. The garden beyond blurred into a hazy smear of moonlight and shadow.

“I’m not saying it to make things harder,” Roseanne continued, her voice soft but firm. “I just… needed you to know. Even if it doesn’t change anything.”

Y/N closed her eyes, her chest aching as the weight of Roseanne’s words settled over her. Memories flooded her mind, of quiet nights spent wrapped in each other’s arms, of shared laughter, of whispered promises that had once felt unbreakable. She forced herself to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Rosie, I…” she trailed off, shaking her head. Her fingers gripped the arms of the chair, as if anchoring herself. “I don’t know what to say.”

Roseanne nodded slowly, her lips curving into a sad, resigned smile. “You don’t have to say anything.”

The silence that followed was deafening, filled with the unspoken weight of their shared history. Y/N’s mind raced with everything she wanted to say but couldn’t, words of longing, regret, and a love that refused to fade no matter how hard she tried to let go.

Finally, Y/N stood, her movements deliberate but heavy. “I should get back to the party,” she said quietly, the words feeling like a lie even as she said them.

Roseanne’s expression fell, her hands tightening briefly in her lap before she nodded. Her voice was small, almost broken, as she replied, “Yeah. Of course.”

Y/N hesitated, lingering for a moment longer than she should have. She wanted to reach out, to touch Roseanne’s hand, to say something that might ease the ache in both their hearts. But the weight of the past, the wounds they had inflicted on each other, kept her rooted in place.

As she turned and left the room, her chest ached with the weight of what had just transpired. The conversation played over in her mind, raw and unresolved, as she rejoined the others. Her steps felt heavier with each stride, as though she were walking away from more than just the room.

And behind her, Roseanne sat alone, her gaze fixed on the empty chair Y/N had left behind.

November brought with it the icy chill of Seoul’s late autumn, the sharp air cutting through Y/N’s layers as she returned home one evening. She had spent the day busying herself with errands and work, the usual distractions that helped her keep her thoughts at bay. But as she set her keys down on the kitchen counter, her phone buzzed on the table, breaking the silence.

Her brow furrowed as she glanced at the screen, an unfamiliar number lighting up the notification. Hesitantly, she picked up the phone and opened the message.

“Hi, Y/N. It’s Roseanne. I’ve been battling myself since the party, wondering if I should send you this. But I just released a new song, and I wrote it thinking of you. It says everything I wish I could say to you.”

A link was attached to the text. Y/N stared at the message, her heart thundering in her chest. Her mind raced, a thousand thoughts swirling as she debated what to do.

Her finger hovered over the link, the urge to ignore it battling with her insatiable curiosity. After a moment that felt like an eternity, she tapped it, the familiar interface of her music app opening.

The title stared back at her ‘Number One Girl’

Y/N pressed play, the first delicate notes filling the quiet room. The melody was hauntingly beautiful, wrapping around her like an embrace she wasn’t sure she could accept. Her chest tightened as the vulnerability in the music seeped into her.

And then Roseanne’s voice broke through, achingly familiar, raw, and heartbreakingly sincere.

“Tell me that I’m special, tell me I look pretty Tell me I’m a little angel, sweetheart of your city Say what I’m dying to hear, ‘Cause I’m dying to hear you”

The first line hit like a whisper of the past, bringing with it an ache so profound that Y/N almost couldn’t breathe. Her breath caught in her throat, her fingers trembling as she set her phone down on the table, afraid that holding it might somehow shatter her already fragile composure.

Each word unfolded like a confession, pulling at the threads of emotions she had spent two years trying to suppress. Y/N blinked rapidly, her vision blurring as her heart began to pound in her chest.

And then the chorus rose, swelling with a desperation that mirrored the turmoil inside her. “Isn’t it lonely? I’d do anything to make you want me I’d give it all up if you told me that I’d be The number one girl in your eyes”

The room seemed to tilt, the raw longing in Roseanne’s voice cutting through Y/N like a blade. She closed her eyes, gripping the edge of the table for support as waves of emotions crashed over her.

Memories surged, vivid and unrelenting.

She saw Roseanne standing in their kitchen, her hair tied back in a loose bun, laughing as she tried and failed to flip a pancake. She felt the warmth of Roseanne’s hands cupping her cheeks, the softness of her whispered reassurances on nights when Y/N doubted herself. She heard their shared laughter, the sound ringing in her ears like a melody she thought she’d forgotten.

But just as quickly, the memories turned darker, cutting deeper. She remembered the arguments, the way Roseanne’s voice would crack with frustration, and the empty space on the couch between them that seemed to grow wider with each passing day.

The next verse hit with a different intensity, each line unraveling another thread of Y/N’s carefully constructed resolve. “Tell me that you need me, tell me that I’m loved Tell me that I’m worth it, and that I’m enough”

Y/N’s fingers trembled against the table, her vision swimming with tears. Roseanne’s words felt like a mirror to everything she had longed to hear during their relationship, the words that could have bridged the growing distance between them but had always remained unspoken.

Her chest ached as she let the lyrics wash over her. The raw yearning in Roseanne’s voice wasn’t just an echo of the past. It was a reflection of Y/N’s own buried feelings, the ones she had been too scared to admit even to herself.

“I need it and I don’t know why This late at night”

A sob broke free from her chest, unbidden and raw. She pressed a hand to her mouth, as if to stifle the sound, but it was no use. Her tears fell freely now, each lyric prying open the wounds she had tried so desperately to heal.

The vulnerability in Roseanne’s voice was overwhelming. It wasn’t just a song. It was a plea, a confession, a love letter written in melodies and aching words. Y/N’s heart twisted painfully, caught between the sweetness of what they had shared and the bitterness of what they had lost.

By the time the bridge arrived, Roseanne’s voice softened into a near whisper, as if speaking directly to Y/N. “The girl in your eyes, the girl in your eyes Tell me I’m the number one girl I’m the number one girl in your eyes…”

Y/N clutched at her chest, the weight of the lyrics pressing down on her until it felt like she might break apart. The words echoed in her mind, intertwining with the memory of Roseanne’s gaze at the party, the vulnerability in her eyes, the quiet longing in her voice when she had said, “I miss you.”

As the final note faded, the silence that followed felt deafening. Y/N sat motionless, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breath. Her phone screen dimmed, leaving the room bathed in a faint glow, but the echoes of Roseanne’s voice lingered like a ghost, haunting and inescapable.

The lyrics repeated in her mind, intertwining with the memories she thought she had buried. “I’d give it all up if you told me that I’d be the number one girl in your eyes”

It was too much. The dam of emotions she had held back for so long had finally burst, and Y/N found herself sobbing into her hands, her tears falling hot and fast. Roseanne’s words, her voice, her love, they had stripped away every wall Y/N had built, leaving her raw and exposed.

Y/N stared at her phone, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breath. Roseanne’s message replayed in her mind “I wrote it for you. It says everything I wish I could say to you.”

A part of her wanted to ignore it, to leave the song and the emotions it stirred behind. But the truth was undeniable, she couldn’t escape the feelings she had buried, the love she had tried so hard to let go of.

She stood abruptly, pacing the length of her kitchen as her thoughts raced. Her pulse thundered in her ears, her mind replaying Roseanne’s voice over and over. She thought of the party a month ago, the way Roseanne had looked at her, the quiet vulnerability in her words.

Y/N stopped pacing, her breath uneven as she gripped her phone tightly. Her heart pounded in her chest, the echoes of Roseanne’s voice still ringing in her ears. She couldn’t avoid this anymore. She didn’t want to.

Her thumb hovered over her screen, trembling as she scrolled through her contacts. Her vision blurred with unshed tears, and for a moment, she hesitated, her finger pausing over Jennie’s name. What would she even say? The weight of everything she was feeling threatened to pull her under, but the thought of letting this moment slip away was unbearable.

She pressed the call button before she could talk herself out of it. The line rang twice, each chime a painful reminder of the enormity of what she was about to do.

Jennie’s voice came through, warm and tinged with curiosity. “Y/N? What’s going on?”

Y/N exhaled shakily, her words spilling out in a rush before she could second-guess them. “I need Roseanne’s address.”

There was a brief silence on the other end, the kind that felt heavy with unspoken questions. Jennie’s voice softened when she spoke again, now laced with concern. “Wait… What? Y/N, are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N admitted, her voice cracking as the vulnerability she’d been holding back spilled over. She ran a hand through her hair, the motion almost frantic as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “I just… I need to see her, Jennie. Please.”

The words hung in the air, raw and desperate. Y/N’s chest ached with the weight of them, as if saying them aloud had made her emotions even more real.

Jennie sighed on the other end, her usual playfulness absent. Instead, her tone was calm, understanding. “Alright,” she said gently, her words like a lifeline. “Give me a minute, and I’ll send it to you.”

The line went dead, leaving Y/N alone in the silence of her apartment once more. She lowered the phone, her fingers trembling as she stared at it. A mix of fear and anticipation churned in her stomach. What would Roseanne say? Would she even want to see her?

A soft chime broke her thoughts, signaling Jennie’s text. The notification lit up her screen, and there it was. Roseanne’s address. Y/N stared at it for a moment, her heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else.

She didn’t hesitate. The moment her resolve solidified, she grabbed her coat and keys from the counter. Her movements were hurried but deliberate, each step toward the door feeling like a step closer to something she couldn’t let slip away.

As she reached for the doorknob, a million thoughts raced through her mind, what she would say, what she hoped Roseanne might say, the fear that this might all backfire. But none of it mattered. She had to see her.

It was time to face Roseanne.

The drive to Roseanne’s apartment was a blur. Y/N barely registered the passing city lights or the soft hum of the radio. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, the weight of what lay ahead pressing down on her chest.

When Y/N arrived, she parked her car along the curb and turned off the engine. The street was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights that reflected off the sleek facade of the building. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white as she stared up at the familiar structure.

The sight of it brought a wave of bittersweet memories crashing over her, each one more vivid than the last. She remembered the first time she had stepped through those doors, her heart fluttering with nervous excitement as Roseanne had shyly handed her a set of keys. She remembered lazy Sunday mornings spent on the balcony with coffee and laughter, and quiet evenings where they had shared their dreams and fears in whispers.

But she also remembered the silence. The heavy, suffocating silence that had grown between them toward the end. The fights that left her feeling like a stranger in her own home. The day she had walked out for the last time, her heart breaking as she closed the door behind her.

Why would Roseanne still live here?

The question gnawed at her, twisting her stomach into knots. She had expected Roseanne to move on, to leave this place behind along with all the memories they had created together. It would have been easier, wouldn’t it? To start fresh somewhere else, away from the ghosts of what they used to be.

And yet, she was still here. In the apartment they had once called home.

The thought both comforted and unnerved Y/N. Did it mean Roseanne hadn’t let go either? Or was this just another sign of the emotional mess they had left behind, a mess Y/N wasn’t sure she was ready to face?

Her chest tightened as the lyrics to Roseanne’s song replayed in her mind, soft and haunting. “Tell me that you need me, tell me that I’m loved…”

A lump formed in her throat, and she blinked rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to spill. She had to pull herself together. Turning back wasn’t an option, not now.

With a deep, steadying breath, she pushed open the car door and stepped out into the cool night air.

The lobby was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of the elevator. The familiar scent of the polished floors and the soft lighting triggered another wave of nostalgia. She hesitated as she reached for the elevator button, her hand trembling slightly.

What if this was a mistake?

The doors slid open with a soft chime, and she stepped inside, pressing the button for Roseanne’s floor. The ride felt interminable, each floor passing with a low hum that seemed to echo her racing heartbeat. Her reflection stared back at her in the polished metal doors, her wide eyes betraying the nerves she was trying to suppress.

Her thoughts raced as the elevator ascended. What would Roseanne say when she saw her? Would she be angry? Hurt? Would she even want to see her at all?

Y/N’s breath hitched as the elevator came to a stop. The doors slid open, and she stepped into the hallway. Her footsteps echoed softly against the carpeted floor as she approached Roseanne’s apartment.

When she finally reached the door, her breath caught.

She stared at it, her hand hovering just above the wood. Her chest tightened as a flood of memories washed over her.

This was once her home too. She could still remember the countless times she had walked through this door, arms full of groceries, laughing at one of Roseanne’s jokes. She remembered sneaking in quietly after a late night out, trying not to wake Roseanne, only to find her sitting on the couch, waiting with a teasing smile.

The familiarity of it all stirred a mix of dread and hope, a potent cocktail of emotions that left her feeling both exhilarated and terrified.

Her hand lingered over the door, her fingers trembling as she fought the urge to turn back. But then she thought of Roseanne’s voice, soft and vulnerable in her message. “I wrote it thinking of you. It says everything I wish I could say to you.”

Y/N closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she tried to steady herself.

With a shaky exhale, she finally knocked.

The seconds that followed felt like an eternity. Each heartbeat thundered in Y/N’s chest as she stood frozen, staring at the door. Then, she heard the faint shuffle of footsteps on the other side, the sound growing louder, closer. The door creaked open.

Roseanne stood there, her eyes widening in shock. She was dressed casually in an oversized sweater and leggings, her hair pulled back into a loose bun with a few stray strands framing her delicate face. She looked softer than Y/N had remembered, her usual polished elegance replaced by something quieter, more vulnerable.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them felt heavy, electric, charged with surprise and the weight of everything left unsaid.

“Y/N,” Roseanne finally said, her voice soft and trembling, laced with disbelief. Her lips parted as though she wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words.

Y/N’s breath caught. Seeing Roseanne this close again, seeing the faint shimmer in her eyes, the way her features softened with emotions she couldn’t hide, was almost too much. The lump in Y/N’s throat made it difficult to speak, her voice barely above a whisper as she managed, “I needed to see you.”

Her words hung in the air, tentative and raw.

Roseanne blinked, her lips pressing together for a moment before she stepped back, silently motioning for Y/N to come in. Y/N hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping over the threshold, her chest tightening as the familiar space enveloped her.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Roseanne turned slowly, her movements deliberate, as if trying to gather her composure. Her expression was a mix of confusion, hesitation, and vulnerability. Her voice trembled when she spoke. “Why now?” she asked, the faintest crack in her words betraying the storm beneath her calm.

Y/N’s eyes darted around the room, taking in the remnants of a life they had once shared. She finally looked back at Roseanne, her own chest tightening as the weight of the moment pressed down on her. “Because I heard your song,” she admitted, her voice raw, barely above a whisper. She took a shaky breath, her emotions spilling over as she continued, “And it made me realize I can’t keep running from this. From us.”

Roseanne’s breath hitched audibly, her eyes softening with a mix of relief and longing. “I wasn’t sure if I should send it,” she confessed, her hands fidgeting nervously at her sides. “I didn’t even know if you’d listen.” Her voice broke slightly on the last word, and she quickly looked away, as if afraid of what Y/N might say next.

Y/N stepped closer, the storm of emotions inside her building with every second. Her voice was steadier now, though the tears threatening to fall betrayed the fragility beneath. “How could I not?” she asked, her gaze locking with Roseanne’s. “Rosie, that song…” She trailed off, shaking her head as tears began to well in her eyes. “It was everything I’ve been feeling. Everything I couldn’t say. Every word…” Her voice broke, and she lifted a hand to wipe at her cheek.

Roseanne’s composure cracked at the sight of Y/N’s tears. Her own eyes glistened as she whispered, “I never stopped loving you.” Her voice broke completely, her vulnerability laid bare. “I couldn’t let you go, Y/N. I tried, but I just couldn’t.”

The words hit Y/N like a tidal wave, each one crashing against the walls she had so carefully built around her heart. She inhaled sharply, her emotions finally spilling over. “Neither could I,” she admitted, her voice trembling as tears slid down her cheeks. “But, Rosie, we hurt each other so much. We broke each other.” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, the memories of their arguments and silences cutting deep.

“I know,” Roseanne said, her voice barely audible. She stepped closer, her hands trembling as she reached out tentatively, as if afraid Y/N might pull away. Her fingers brushed Y/N’s lightly before she looked up, her gaze filled with raw emotion. “Do you know why I never sold this place?”

Y/N shook her head slowly, her tears falling freely now.

“Because I couldn’t,” Roseanne confessed, her voice thick with emotion. Her hands trembled at her sides, and her eyes shone with tears she no longer tried to hide. Her voice broke as she continued, “It was the last thing that reminded me of you. Every corner, every shadow, it’s all you, Y/N. I couldn’t let go completely. I didn’t want to.”

The raw honesty in Roseanne’s words sent a fresh wave of emotion crashing through Y/N. Her chest tightened painfully, the magnitude of Roseanne’s confession wrapping around her like a vice. She saw it now, not just the apartment but the weight of two years’ worth of longing and grief that Roseanne had carried within these walls.

Y/N stepped closer, her own tears spilling over as her hand reached out, trembling as her fingers brushed against Roseanne’s. The warmth of the touch was both grounding and electrifying, a reminder of all they had been and all they could still be.

Her voice was soft, breaking with both love and sorrow. “Rosie, I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.” She paused, her breath catching. “But we’re not the same people we were two years ago. I’m not the same person who walked out that door.”

Roseanne nodded slowly, her gaze locked on Y/N’s as a tear slipped down her cheek. “I know,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute. She swallowed hard, her next words laced with both desperation and determination. “But I’ll do anything to make this work. Anything, Y/N. I’ll leave the industry if I have to. I’ll give it all up for you.” Her voice cracked on the last word, her vulnerability laid bare. She hesitated, her lips trembling before she added, “You’re the love of my life.”

Y/N’s breath hitched at the sheer sincerity in Roseanne’s voice. Her chest ached with the weight of it, her heart swelling and breaking all at once. She shook her head, her voice firm but gentle. “Don’t be stupid, Rosie. I don’t want you to give up your dreams. That’s not what this is about.”

Roseanne’s brows furrowed, confusion and frustration flickering across her face. She let out a soft, shuddering breath as her hands fidgeted at her sides. “Then what is it about?” she asked, her voice rising slightly with desperation. “Tell me what I need to do, Y/N. Please.”

Y/N took another step closer, their hands brushing again as she steadied herself. She met Roseanne’s gaze, her own eyes filled with unshed tears, and spoke with a steadiness she hadn’t known she was capable of. “It’s about us,” she said softly, the weight of the words heavy between them. “It’s about us trying again. But only if we promise to try as hard as we can. To be better. To communicate better. To really be there for each other this time.”

Roseanne stared at her, the tears on her cheeks catching the soft light of the room. She nodded quickly, her lips trembling as a sob broke free. “I’ll try,” she said, her voice filled with conviction. “I’ll do anything, Y/N. I swear. Just… just don’t walk away again.”

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she closed the remaining distance between them. She cupped Roseanne’s face in her hands, her touch gentle yet firm, anchoring them both in the moment. “You’re the love of my life too, Rosie,” she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. “And I want us to have a second chance. I need us to have a second chance.”

Roseanne leaned into Y/N’s touch, her tears mingling with a soft, shaky laugh that sounded like relief and joy all at once. “I won’t let you down this time,” she promised, her voice trembling but steady.

Y/N smiled through her tears, the weight of her emotions making her chest feel both heavy and impossibly light at the same time. Her heart ached, not with pain but with a bittersweet mix of hope and love that surged through her like a tide. She took a hesitant step closer, then another, until the distance between them was gone, her movements careful yet certain.

Her gaze lingered on Roseanne’s face, drinking in every detail, the glistening trail of tears on her cheeks, the way her lips trembled with unspoken emotion, the soft vulnerability in her eyes that mirrored everything Y/N felt.

Roseanne’s breath hitched as Y/N thumb swept gently across her skin, wiping away a tear that had just begun to fall. Roseanne leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as if savoring the warmth and familiarity.

“Rosie,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling but filled with quiet conviction. Her other hand found its way to Roseanne’s waist, her touch light but grounding, as though she needed to anchor herself in this moment. “I’m here. I’m really here.”

Roseanne’s eyes opened, shimmering with unshed tears, and a small, breathless laugh escaped her lips. “You are,” she murmured, her voice breaking with equal parts disbelief and relief.

Y/N smiled again, her own tears spilling over as she closed the final gap between them. Her lips met Roseanne’s in a kiss that was as soft as it was intense, a tender connection charged with the weight of everything they had been through.

The world seemed to fall away as they melted into each other, the kiss carrying all the emotions they couldn’t put into words. It was an apology, a promise, a plea for forgiveness and a vow to try again, all wrapped into a single moment.

Y/N’s hand moved from Roseanne’s cheek to the back of her neck, her fingers threading gently through the loose strands of hair as she deepened the kiss. Roseanne responded instantly, her hands coming up to rest on Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her closer as if afraid to let her go.

Their breaths mingled, warm and uneven, as the kiss lingered. It wasn’t hurried or frantic, it was deliberate, filled with the kind of love that had never truly left them, even in their time apart.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other’s, their breaths coming in soft, shaky exhales. Y/N let out a quiet laugh, a sound that was equal parts relief and joy, her eyes still glistening with tears.

“You’re everything to me, Rosie,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “And this… this feels like coming home.”

Roseanne’s lips curved into a trembling smile, her eyes shining with love as she whispered back, “You are my home, Y/N. You always have been.”

“You���ll always have been and always will be my number one girl,” Y/N murmured, her voice filled with warmth and love.

Roseanne's eyes were shining with the same emotion. “And you’ll always be mine.”

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s presence, the air between them charged with the promise of a new beginning.

The morning sun filtered through the windows of Roseanne’s apartment, casting warm, golden light across the living room. Y/N stood in the kitchen, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee, the comforting aroma filling the air. The space felt alive again, less like a shell of old memories and more like a place where something new could grow.

Roseanne’s voice echoed faintly from the bedroom as she hummed a soft tune, her guitar resting on her lap. Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she listened, the sound stirring a warmth in her chest she hadn’t felt in a long time.

A soft scratching noise at the door interrupted her thoughts, and Y/N froze, her heart skipping a beat. It was a sound she knew all too well.

“Rosie,” she called out, setting her mug down on the counter. “Did you hear that?”

Roseanne’s humming stopped, and moments later, she appeared in the doorway, her expression already softening. “Oh,” she said, her voice tinged with surprise and a smile tugging at her lips. “That must be Hank.”

Y/N’s breath caught as Roseanne moved to the door, her movements fluid and familiar. When she opened it, Alice stood on the other side, holding Hank’s leash. The little dog was already bouncing excitedly, his tail wagging furiously.

Alice glanced at Y/N, her eyes widening briefly before a knowing grin spread across her face. “Oh,” she said, her tone teasing. “Y/N. You’re here.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, but Alice didn’t linger, her voice brisk as she handed over the leash. “Later, Rosie, I want details. Everything. But I’ve got to go. I’m running late!”

Roseanne laughed, rolling her eyes affectionately as Alice gave her a quick hug and a pointed look before rushing down the hall, Rosie calling her back, “Thank you for taking care of him!”

The door closed, and the apartment fell silent again. Hank, however, was anything but calm. The moment he spotted Y/N, he froze, his tail pausing mid-wag as his dark eyes locked onto her.

“Hank,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. She crouched down instinctively, her hands outstretched as the dog’s tail began wagging furiously.

With an excited bark, Hank bolted toward her, his little body vibrating with enthusiasm. Y/N laughed through her tears as he jumped into her arms, his paws pressing against her chest as he licked her face.

“Hey, buddy,” she said, her voice breaking as she hugged him tightly. “I missed you so much.”

Roseanne leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest, watching the reunion with a smile that was equal parts fondness and relief. “I wasn’t sure if he’d remember you,” she said softly.

Y/N looked up at her, tears streaming down her cheeks as Hank nestled into her arms. “How could he forget?” she said, her voice thick with emotion. She scratched behind Hank’s ears, her gaze shifting back to the little dog who was now happily curled against her.

Roseanne stepped closer, crouching down beside them. She reached out to ruffle Hank’s fur, her hand brushing against Y/N’s in the process. Their eyes met briefly, and the shared emotion in the moment said more than words ever could.

“Hank’s missed you,” Roseanne said quietly, her voice warm. “He hasn’t been the same since you left.”

Y/N pressed her lips together, her heart aching at the thought. “I missed him too,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I missed everything.”

Roseanne’s hand lingered on Hank’s fur, her fingers brushing Y/N’s again. “Well,” she said, her voice steady but filled with tenderness, “you don’t have to miss it anymore. You’re here now.”

The words settled between them, a quiet promise of the new life they were building together. Hank let out a contented sigh, curling up against Y/N’s lap as if to say he wasn’t letting her go again either.

Y/N leaned her head against Roseanne’s shoulder, her tears falling freely now, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of hope, of love, and of finally finding her way back home.

The brisk chill of January had settled over Seoul, bringing with it the magic of a new year. The streets were lined with faintly glowing lights, and a dusting of snow covered the sidewalks like a soft, white blanket. The world seemed quieter, more reflective, as if everyone were holding their breath for what the future might bring.

Y/N adjusted the hem of her coat as she stepped into Jennie’s home, the warmth of the interior immediately enveloping her. She looked over at Roseanne, whose hand was intertwined with hers, and felt a familiar surge of emotion she hadn’t yet grown used to, love, steady and unwavering, filling the spaces she had once thought were irreparably broken.

Jennie greeted them with a grin as wide as the moon, her dark eyes sparkling with delight. “There they are!” she exclaimed, her voice cutting through the hum of conversation in the room. “Our favorite reunited couple!”

Y/N laughed softly, cheeks flushing as Roseanne gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, don’t make it weird,” Y/N teased, but Jennie was already pulling them into a warm hug, one arm around each of their shoulders.

“I’m just happy to see you both like this,” Jennie said, her voice softer now as she stepped back. She gave them a knowing look, her gaze flicking between them. “It’s about time, isn’t it?”

Roseanne smiled, her cheeks tinged pink, but she didn’t let go of Y/N’s hand. “It is,” she said simply, and the way she looked at Y/N made Jennie’s knowing expression turn into a broad, satisfied grin.

The party was intimate, filled with close friends who were eager to celebrate Jennie’s birthday. Familiar faces mingled throughout the room. The atmosphere was warm and lively, the clinking of glasses and soft bursts of laughter weaving a comforting backdrop.

Y/N noticed the glances at first, brief, curious looks from friends who hadn’t seen her and Roseanne together in years. But as the evening went on, those glances turned into warm smiles, nods of approval, and even a few heartfelt words of support.

“You two look good together,” Jihyo said at one point, her tone light but genuine.

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, her smile shy but radiant as she glanced at Roseanne, who returned her look with a fondness that made her chest flutter.

Roseanne stayed close by her side throughout the evening, her hand finding Y/N’s every so often in a small, grounding gesture. It was subtle but reassuring, a silent promise that they were in this together.

As the night wore on, they found themselves sitting together on the couch, sharing quiet laughs as they watched Jennie cut her cake. The warmth in the room felt like a reflection of their own hearts, fragile yet hopeful.

Later that night, Y/N and Roseanne returned to Roseanne’s apartment, their steps slow and unhurried as they shed their coats and boots. The quiet of the space was a welcome reprieve from the liveliness of the party, and the faint glow of the city lights outside painted the room in soft hues.

They made their way to the bedroom, the familiar coziness wrapping around them like an embrace. Y/N slipped under the covers, her body instantly relaxing against the warmth of the sheets. Roseanne joined her moments later, their movements fluid and practiced, as though they had never spent two years apart.

The quiet was companionable, filled with the unspoken understanding that had grown between them in the weeks since they had reconciled. Y/N turned onto her side, facing Roseanne, whose soft features were illuminated by the faint moonlight filtering through the window.

“I’m glad we went tonight,” Y/N said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

“Me too,” Roseanne replied, her gaze steady as she reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from Y/N’s face. Her touch lingered, her fingers tracing a gentle line along Y/N’s cheek.

Y/N caught her hand, holding it against her face as her eyes searched Roseanne’s. “Do you think this time will be different?” she asked, her voice quiet but tinged with vulnerability.

Roseanne nodded, her expression earnest. “I know it will be,” she said, her tone firm but warm. “Because we’re different now. We’ve learned what it means to really love someone, and I think we’re finally ready to do it the right way.”

Y/N felt her chest tighten, not with sadness but with the overwhelming weight of Roseanne’s sincerity. “I want that too,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “I want us to keep growing. To be better. Together.”

Roseanne smiled, her eyes shimmering as she leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “We will,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet determination. “I promise you, Y/N. We’ll keep fighting for this. For us.”

Y/N nodded, her tears spilling over as she smiled through them. She tightened her hold on Roseanne’s hand, their fingers lacing together in a silent vow.

They lay like that for a while, their hands clasped between them, their gazes steady as they talked softly about their future. They spoke of dreams, small ones, big ones, and everything in between. Y/N confessed her fears, and Roseanne countered them with reassurances. Roseanne shared her hopes, and Y/N listened with an open heart, letting each word settle deep inside her.

As the night wore on, their words grew quieter, their breaths slowing in unison. They didn’t need grand gestures or elaborate promises. This moment, their hands intertwined, their hearts aligned, was enough.

[jokeroutsubs]

[📝ENG TRANSLATION] The most personal conversation with Nace Jordan of Joker Out: "I wanted to justify being in the band"

Original article written by Alma Rahne for Metropolitan, published 14.11.2024. English translation by @weolucbasu, review by IG 10_anja, proofread by @flowerlotus8

Full article under the cut 👇

Prior to the release of the long-awaited Joker Out's third studio album we had a chat with their member, the bassist Nace Jordan. For him this is an especially huge milestone in his career, as this is the first album after he joined the band in 2022 after the previous bassist Martin Jurkovič left.

When Nace Jordan joined Joker Out two years ago, he probably didn't think he'd experience such a rich musical journey. During this time he performed at Eurovision, their song 'Carpe Diem' won the hearts of foreign audiences like a magnet. This was followed by a long European tour, creating new musical material in London and later in Hamburg. The boys also had a rich festival summer.

(Ph: Primož Lukežič)

The year and a half since it all began with the Eurovision song 'Carpe Diem' and up until today, has been rounded off with a new studio album 'Souvenir Pop' by Nace Jordan, Bojan Cvjetićanin, Kris Guštin, Jan Peteh and Jure Maček. The album will be released on the 15th of November. On it there are a collection of 10 songs in Slovene, English and Serbian.

"From every trip each of us usually takes some kind of memorabilia or a so-called 'souvenir'. That's basically what 'Souvenir Pop' represents," clarifies this time's guest, Nace with whom we talked about the creation of new material and his musical beginnings. We also found out after who his new family member got his name from, what food he eats and for how many years he hasn't been drinking alcohol.

(Ph: Mark Pirc)

Rocker bassist, who doesn't drink alcohol

Nace Jordan grew up in Kranj. Perhaps he was a newbie for most two years ago, but before joining Joker Out Nace had already professionally worked with music for over 10 years. He collaborated with most Slovene performers, including Jan Plestenjak, Samuel Lucas, Katarina Mala... and as he tells he "at least once in his life accompanied all the main Slovene musicians on an instrument."

When he turned 18, he went on a cruise ship where he gained invaluable experience. He always stood up for those who were weaker in school, even if that meant he got the short end of the stick. Likeable and almost always in a good mood, he admits that he also has a bad day sometimes.

(Ph: Nace Jordan's private archive)

"I'm definitely a positive person, but I also have days when I'm the complete opposite of myself and on those days, nothing is good enough, nothing is okay, everything sucks. Actually, the way I'm on stage I'm also privately. When I'm in a bad mood you notice it quickly, because I can't hide it. Which maybe isn't always the best." (smiles)

(Ph: Profimedia)

Alongside music, he's also enthusiastic about cooking, where he transfers his creative approach onto how preparing dishes. He especially likes dishes with polenta and he explores recipes without gluten. A few years ago he even applied to a goulash cooking competition in Kranj with a friend, where they won. He still keeps the medal and the pot at home. Even though he has gotten used to gluten-free food, he explains, with a sparkle in his eyes that he sometimes misses a really "good, freshly baked donut".

During our conversation, Nace confides in us that he hasn't been drinking alcohol for 10 years. If anyone encourages him, to drink something stronger, he playfully declines: "When you have a baby, I will drink to their health." And he stays true to this. He maybe drinks once or twice per year, at a really special opportunity or dinner.

He joined the group without any greater expectations

His integration into the group happened at the speed of light. "When me and Bojan (Cvjetićanin) got together for a drink, he mentioned that Martin is leaving the group and they're looking for a new member. According to him, I was the most appropriate for that and they wanted to meet up with me at their place (practice space), so we could play something together. This was actually before the concert in Križanke (9th September 2022). In the beginning, I was careful, because I've been in situations where I came into a band and we didn't get along. Being in a group isn't easy. Back then I told Bojan: "Let's get together and get a feel for each other." Prior to that, I didn't know the other members. I entered slightly reserved, without any greater expectations," he describes the beginning of his collaboration with the other members of Joker Out.

(Ph: Aleksandra Saša Prelesnik)

"Then we played together a bit. After Križanke, we didn't see each other for a bit, because Kris went to travel in Peru. When he returned, we started practicing again, because we had a performance waiting for us. Martin decided he wouldn't play anymore, I had not yet been an official member of the band, but I did go and play with them." And the rest is, as we like to say, history.

"I wanted to justify being in the band"

The new third album of Joker Out, 'Souvenir Pop' is especially dear to Nace, as it is, as previously mentioned, his first album that he created together with the rest of the band members.

"Maybe I slept a bit worse the final nights when we were finishing up the album. Maybe because of that I was slightly more nervous, because I wanted to justify being in the band and the fact that some new good songs were made. For example, the single 'Carpe Diem', which was accepted greatly, as well as 'Šta bih ja' and 'Bluza', which are amazing songs to me. I also want the same for the other songs on the album. More or less, I felt some kind of pressure that this album has to be really good."

The new album of course has a whiff of foreign countries, as we find songs in two other languages besides Slovene: English and Serbian. But for sure, this album will not have an identical sound as the previous two albums.

(Ph: Vita Orehek)

"I think that everything that Bojan sings and we play is Joker Out. You can't escape that. But for sure, it doesn't sound the same as the previous albums. We all played those songs so often that you want something different in a while to make the concert more interesting. The song 'Carpe Diem' already doesn't sound the same as the previous album to my ears. Maybe the new album sounds more closely like a combination of 'Carpe Diem', 'Šta bih ja' and 'Everybody's Waiting'. That's the genre we're moving in. But there are definitely some surprises on the album, which caused some doubt in me during the middle stage, where I was wondering if this even fits on the album. But now that I listen to the album as a whole, I actually really like it," he says and is satisfied with the final product.

The order of the songs on the album is placed into a story. "I think that Kris described it very well in an interview. The first part of the album takes place right after Eurovision, this hype (circus, noise), confidence, this kind of power, surreality. The second part of the album represents the time after you've taken a step back and summarised all of this. At the same time, some dark things can come out during that time. The second half is a bit more dark and I think we nicely captured the transition into this," he clarifies.

Album cover taken between the sheets

If their last album covers were in colour, this one is black and white. On it, the boys pose in between the sheets. The picture was taken on the morning of the Eurovision final.

"Maybe none of us is perfect in this picture, but we all agreed that this picture isn't just some visual image, but it also has some kind of energy, which tells us exactly what was happening then. You look at this picture and you see some kind of energy between us, a bit of nervousness..." describes Nace.

Album cover of their new album 'Souvenir Pop'. (Ph: Joker Out archive)

The bassist likes it, if the songs jump from genre to genre on albums. "So you don't get bored, when you listen to it as a whole." Each song carries its own story and a kind of emotional charge. Between the new songs you can find ones that especially touched him.

"The first one that really touched me is for sure 'Carpe Diem', it's our first song together after all. Then the seventh song on the album ('Lips'), because is contains the most of me. Already the idea for it was created on a laptop in bed and not at the place with the band. The creative process alone connected me with it, it for sure is one of the most different, striking songs. When you'll listen to it, you'll see what I mean. The ninth song ('Sonce') is a ballad. When I listen to it, it doesn't matter how I'm feeling at that moment, it always touches me. With that song I like: the topic of the song, the lyrics itself and how Bojan serves it. When I played it to my mum, she got teary-eyed."

(Ph: Nace Jordan's private archive)

They experimented with different instruments on this album. Nace first and foremost plays bass, but recently he also bought a Wurlitzer piano (a type of piano which you plug into electricity). "It's a very dear instrument to me and I finally got to buy it. The same week I bought it, I put it into a new song," excitedly tells the 30-year old, who, for the album, alongside the bass also recorded another guitar, marracas and other pianos and programmed the drums, where there are no acoustic drums.

He often takes on the role of an older brother

In the group Nace takes place of someone who takes care of all the studio things. "I already did this in the past and I felt at home with it. When we were finishing up the album, I took care that the album was be finished on time. The last three weeks before the album was finished, I shared our Producer's Žare Pak's biorhythm which means I was up from 4pm until 10 am." (smiles)

As he is the oldest, turning 30 this year, he often takes on the role of an older brother. With his responsibility and mature approach he takes care of the other members: "Boys, today let's maybe hold back a bit, we have a long weekend ahead of us. Sometimes they make fun of me because of it, but the following day at least one of them is probably grateful." (smiles)

"We encourage each other"

It doesn't happen often that members of a band are also privately good friends. We can say that this certainly isn't true when it comes to Joker Out. As friends they support each other at all moments, go on holiday together, spend their free time together, hang out during social evenings, which creates a unique energy amongst them, which can be felt by the audience at every concert. This friendhsip gives their music additional depth and energy, because of which their fans feel as though they are a part of their story.

(Ph: Damon Baker)

The dynamic between members naturally changes and develops through time. Together they experience new challenges, creative processes and personal transitions, which effects their relationships. Slowly, special bonds are created between them because of this - with some they connect on a deeper emotional level, with some more in a business sense.

"When I feel bad or I want to talk about deeper matters with someone that person will certainly be Bojan. Because he really knows how to get close to a person in that moment and give them good advice. With Kris we are both more business orientated and we have almost daily conversations about what we have to do and what we have to improve. Because of this we often go and grab a coffee and we see each other the most. With Jure you will never just be sitting down, but you have to do another activity as well. A love for keyboards connects me and Jan, we talk the most about music. Jan also often inspires me with his manner of playing," say Nace, who with Jan forms a fantastic guitar duo on stage.

(Ph: Vita Orehek)

Their collaboration is energetic, synchronised and soaked with the right amount of improvisation, which concert goers already feel during the first chords. Their connection is expressed through music, as they can easily communicate through looks alone while playing and improve their performance. This authentic relaxed chemistry between then is something so natural that they have also moved this to the audience.

(Ph: Profimedia)

He takes care of his stamina at night

The Jokers are famous for their dynamic performances, where stamina comes in handy. "It's definitely easier, if you have some stamina. I try to keep it up. Sometimes a bit better, sometimes a bit worse. When I come on stage, I want to support what I'm doing with movement, with my body and to someone in the audience, who is looking at you and wants your attention, I try to give it back tenfold. I try to put myself into the shoes of a fan because I know exactly what I would like. We provide each other with energy, so it's very important that we're in a good mood during our performances. We encourage each other, support each other."

Recently he spends a lot of time at the piano, which relaxes him. As a true Gorenjska local he also loves mountains, but he's recently been running out of spare time. "I like going to the hills very much, but I sadly go so rarely that I'm almost embarassed to say. The walking really relaxes me. I would also like to fish more. Me and Bojan are very amateur fishermen, but that's our common interest."

He mentions that he also likes to run and swim. "I am the funniest runner in the world, because I run between 11pm and midnight. I often look behind me and also run faster. (laughter) Getting out of the door is the most difficult. I admit, it's sometimes torture, but the satisfaction after I'm finished is then that much greater. Running also helps my mental health a lot."

(Ph: Vita Orehek)

New family member - dachshund Pino

A few months ago, Nace's life was enriched by a new family member, an adorable dachshund named Pino. He was named after the amazing English bassist with Italian roots, Pino Palladino, who performed with Adele, Paul Young, The Who, Nine Inch Nails and others. At first, Pino was a bit shy, but he quickly won his heart over.

"In the beginning I always needed a sitter for him. Now we've progressed so far that he can be home alone a bit longer. It's definitely some kind of additional responsibilty, but he made my life better. When I come home he is very honestly happy to see me. Nothing can replace this feeling. Everyone who has a dog knows this well. He also won a right to the bed, he sleeps with me. I spoiled him a bit much," he honestly admits while laughing.

In the past months Nace's life is being made better by the dachshund Pino. (Ph: Nace Jordan's private archive)

Even though taking care of a dog is an additional responsibilty, Nace is grateful for his new furry friend and the feeling of unconditional love, which can only be understood by those, who have a dog.

For the ending, we were interested in what has been the greatest lecture he has learned in the past year, "Oof, great question. I don't now if I've learned it, but I'm still trying. At the moment when something wasn't going my way, I always wanted to do anything to solve it. Now, I've realised that it's much better to take a step back and look at things from a different perspective and then return."

[bittersbloom]

LOVERGIRL is the debut album by cheri. Released October 3, 2022, the album consists of 14 tracks. The album received favorable reviews from critics, most praised the album for its versatile pop sound and overall lyrical themes.

LOVERGIRL marks cheri’s first release after departing from Big Hit and her indefinite hiatus as a BTS member. Many netizens speculated that cheri would not return to music when she was confirmed to appear in the Don’t Worry Darling. cheri confirmed she was working on her first album in late 2021 with former Big Hit producer and CHROMATIC CEO Kayla Hwang. Hwang and cheri served as co-creative directors and producers on the album.

She began teasing the album by posting a video of her walking on a beach at sunset on August 20th. cheri announced STAY TONIGHT two days later and officially released August 25. Two more singles were released from the album following the release — 보라빛 밤 (PURPLE NIGHT) and CONFETTI. The album includes collaborations with CL, BIBI, and Saweetie on a remixed version of CONFETTI.

LOVERGIRL explores themes of love, freedom, and self-discovery, inspired by cheri’s journey of finding her identity as a solo artist. She tapped into disco and pop subgenres.

In an interview, she explained, “I’m really trying to embrace the emotions I’ve felt in various relationships — whether they were romantic, platonic, or… whatever. I was really inspired by 80s pop. I wanted an upbeat, poppy sound, and that kind of contrasts with some of the lyrics and overall theme.”

Promotions kicked off with a performance and her U.S. television debut of STAY TONIGHT on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon as well as an interview with him. She hosted private listening sessions for the album in Los Angeles, San Francisco, New York, London, Tokyo, and Seoul. Throughout October, pop-up stores were opened in these cities as well.

Along with the usual K-Pop album packaging, cheri released six vinyl variants of the album — four standard editions and two deluxe editions.

The music videos for STAY TONIGHT, 보라빛 밤 (PURPLE NIGHT), and CONFETTI were all inspired by various movies — PURPLE NIGHT, most notably, by La La Land. cheri was praised for her aerial silk skills in the STAY TONIGHT video. she also released performance videos for DREAM OF YOU and SWEET MELODY, as well as a live band performance of HONEYMOON FADES.

TRACKLIST

1. DIZZY

2. RED LIPSTICK (Feat. CL)

3. 보라빛 밤 (PURPLE NIGHT)

4. HONEYMOON FADES

5. CONFETTI

6. MAGNETIC

7. CRAZY LIKE YOU (Feat. BIBI)

8. STAY TONIGHT

9. OUT LOUD

10. DREAM OF YOU

11. ALL NIGHT LONG

12. GODDESS

13. LETTER OF LIGHT

14. BREAK UP SONG

15. CUT YOU OFF - deluxe track

16. SWEET MELODY - deluxe track

17. CONFETTI (ft. SAWEETIE) - deluxe track

ALBUM CONTENTS

cheri released four standard versions of the album. The deluxe version was available digitally and on vinyl. Each vinyl version came with polaroids that correspond to the album cover. The glow in the dark vinyl was limited edition only, but has since been released for Record Store Day in 2024.

dusk ver.

outbox ( 105 x 102 mm. ) + photobook ( 80p ) + mini poster + sticker sheet ( 1ea ) + lyric poster ( 1ea ) + cd + photo cards ( 3 out of 18 ) + handwritten letter ( 1ea ) + charm bracelet & charms ( 1ea )

honeymoon ver.

outbox ( 105 x 102 mm ) + photobook ( 80p ) + mini poster + sticker sheet ( 1ea ) + lyric poster ( 1ea ) + cd + photo cards ( 3 out of 18 ) + hair clips ( 4ea ) + acrylic rings ( 2ea ) + charm bracelet & charms ( 1ea )

dream ver.

outbox ( 105 x 102 mm ) + photobook ( 80p ) + poster + sticker sheet ( 1ea ) + lyric poster ( 1ea ) + cd + photo cards ( 3 out of 18 ) + sleep mask ( 1ea ) + charm bracelet & charms ( 1ea )

confetti ver.

outbox ( 105 x 102 mm ) + photobook ( 80p ) + poster + sticker sheet ( 1ea ) + lyric poster ( 1ea ) + cd + photo cards ( 3 out of 18 ) + fragrance card ( 1ea ) + charm bracelet & charms ( 1ea )

STYLING

ERA NOTES

The hate boner for cheri is great, but the tunes produced by her are greater. She had retirement allegations left and right. People were still calling her a nobody who wouldn’t get anywhere without a group. Talentless. But here we are.

Obviously the nosy people want to know what the fuck went down for her to just… not promote with the group for a year — and for legal reasons, cheri, the d1 yapper, is not allowed to say.

This album is very obviously a relationship heavy album theme wise, and cheri is publicly down bad, so people were kinda like wtf is going on. Then it’s a major light bulb moment when it finally clicks that some of these songs are actually about the former company and she is indeed happy to be free from their clutches. Kayla being her CEO and producer and close friend is literally like H*BE’s worst nightmare because those mfs HATE the both of them.

It was absolutely no surprise to beotkkots-cherbuds that she was being held back, especially since the only solo work she’d released was pre-pandemic and received major pushback from the company. If you told cherbuds on stan twitter in may 2019 that they would not have to defend cheri’s debut with their life, they’d absolutely not believe you. They have been in the trenches for YEARS.

She was announced as a Tom Ford Beauty ambassador a month after the album released and then it was announced she was working on a perfume collection with them.

The fandom name was officially announced/changed on November 11 — beotkkots forever, but cherbuds reign.

This was truly an album for the arts and charts. The numbers were unbelievable. By award season she was racking up the nominations, but received very few non music show wins.

It definitely seemed like overnight she went from public enemy number 1 to the people’s princess — the origin of chaeprincess, actually.

[joachimnapoleon]

My Napoleon Review

I really wanted to like this movie. When it was first announced, I was one of the people in our little community here with a hopefully-optimistic, wait-and-see approach. I wanted to love it the same way I loved Gladiator and Kingdom of Heaven and other historical epics that, despite not being historically accurate, still managed to hook me with good storytelling, excellent casts, and memorable battle scenes and imagery. Ridley Scott's Napoleon has none of the above.

You know what I liked about it? The uniforms. The uniforms looked magnificent and were probably the most accurate aspect of the movie. Almost like Scott had help from historians, but that can't be the case, because Scott says he didn't actually need historians to make Napoleon.

What I was not expecting from this movie was to be bored. Yet that's what I was, for at least the first hour and a half. I'm honestly just perplexed by this even now. I don't know how it's actually possible to make the life of Napoleon Bonaparte so thoroughly uninspiring and dull, but Scott managed to pull it off.

To be fair, he was aided in this superhuman effort by Joaquin Phoenix. I never in my wildest dreams could've seen him doing such a poor job with his interpretation of Napoleon. But honestly, the fact that he's too old for the role actually ended up being the least of what I disliked about this performance, which was basically everything. The early reports coming out when the movie was still being produced about Phoenix putting a lot of effort into understanding Napoleon's psychology gave me what turned out to be a completely misguided hope. When you read descriptions of Napoleon from his contemporaries, you see an energetic, charismatic, vibrant being who exerted an almost inexplicable magnetism that drew people to him and inspired devotion and admiration, even among his critics. There is nothing even remotely inspiring, energetic, charismatic, or vibrant about Phoenix's grim, dour, monotoned Napoleon. He only ceases being grim and dour to become a clown, or to indicate to Josephine in some undignified manner that he is once again in need of sex (at one point he actually oinks repeatedly). In one scene he literally crawls under the dining room table towards her on all fours, while the embarrassed valets watch.

The relationship between Napoleon and Josephine is totally devoid of chemistry. Kirby's acting was fine, but she was given a trash script to work with. At one of their early meetings, Josephine flat-out spreads her legs in front of Napoleon, invites him to look down, and declares that once he sees what's down there, he'll never stop wanting it. It was the cringiest scene imaginable, and frankly an insult to the real Josephine's memory, as were the pathetic sex scenes. The scene of the official divorce is stripped of any dignity by Scott, who decided to have Josephine randomly chuckle at various points while reading her statement, and then made it even worse by having Napoleon actually slap her across the face.

Even the battle scenes were a joke for the most part, and that was the one area where I was certain this movie would shine. It's the usual fare of Side A charges across an open field at Side B, with no discernible tactics whatsoever. Napoleon yells "Send in the infantry!" Shortly after that, "Send in the cavalry!" Corps, regiments etc are just nonexistent; the armies are just big masses hurtling towards each other while the artillery blasts continuously. The Borodino battle scene lasts maybe two minutes and was just disappointing on every level, like damn near everything else in this movie.

Oh, remember that bit from one of the trailers of Napoleon charging headlong, saber drawn? That actually occurs during the Borodino scene. The battle during which real-life Napoleon was uncharacteristically lethargic (and possibly ill) and barely left his tent. And then to top it off, Scott also has Napoleon ride into the fray during the Waterloo scene, and start cutting English soldiers down with his saber like Mel Gibson's William Wallace in Braveheart. I almost fell out of my chair laughing.

The guy they cast to play Wellington appeared to be at least 60 years old. Christopher Plummer he was not. I'm actually planning to watch Waterloo sometime this weekend as a pallet-cleanser.

I imagine the eventual four hour director's cut Scott has spoken of will flesh the narrative out more, but I'm not even sure I'm interested in seeing it after this. I can only hope the rumored Spielberg HBO series on Napoleon will transpire and put in the effort that Scott was not willing to.

Well, the good news is that Rod Steiger is no longer my least favorite Napoleon.

[insanityclause]

How many glitter balls do you need to stage a production of Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing? The answer it seems, is four, or it is for a Jamie Lloyd production at least. How much pink confetti? Well, that’s a trick question; you can never have too much pink confetti.

Jamie Lloyd’s production of Much Ado About Nothing at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane is a vibrant reimagining of Shakespeare’s beloved comedy, even if it does stray from the original, and powered by electrifying performances from Tom Hiddleston and Hayley Atwell.

That blizzard of coloured paper pours down on the stage, with varying levels of intensity for the duration of the show. Falling on Soutra Gilmour’s non-existent set it succeeds in immersing the audience in a party-like atmosphere.

The production’s hot pink aesthetic feels both playful and contemporary, and brings something that was lacking in The Tempest. Though many of the cast return this is a more high-energy interpretation for Messina’s romantic entanglements.

With a soundtrack of Nineties bangers, Fabian Aloise’s movement direction ensures the stage brims with life, with dance and music interwoven into the narrative. Mason Alexander Park, as Margaret, provides the majority of the vocals, and just like in The Tempest, proves to be the highlight of the evening.

This dynamic approach breathes fresh energy into Shakespeare’s text while making it accessible to modern audiences. Though it should be said that not all of the cast are adept with the moves or vocals, and the cringe factor (possibly intentionally) is off the scale.

At the heart of this production are Hiddleston and Atwell as Benedick and Beatrice. Their chemistry is magnetic, delivering sharp-tongued banter with impeccable timing. Hiddleston’s Benedick is both charmingly cocky and self-deprecating, while Atwell’s Beatrice exudes wit and emotional depth. Their sparring scenes are a masterclass in comic timing, yet they also shine in moments of vulnerability as the characters confront their true feelings.

The supporting cast adds further depth to the production. Mara Huf’s Hero is delicately portrayed, while James Phoon’s Claudio captures both youthful passion and naivety.

Tim Steed’s Don John brings just enough menace to his scheming without overshadowing the comedic elements. Meanwhile, Mason Alexander Park as Margaret injects humor and warmth into the ensemble.

To accommodate all this partying, and a couple of scenes resembling an episode of The Masked Singer, this Much Ado About Nothing has seen cuts. Key emotional moments, especially in Claudio and Hero’s storyline, feel rushed, leaving less room for their arc to resonate fully. Additionally, while the modern aesthetic is striking, it occasionally risks overshadowing Shakespeare’s language. Some moments of dialogue feel slightly lost amid the visual spectacle.

The confetti storm briefly turns to a drizzle in the second act, as the darker elements of the story emerge. Here, Lloyd successfully balances humour with heartbreak, ensuring that the play keeps some of the intended emotion.  Ben and Max Ringham’s sound design further enhances the production, underscoring pivotal moments with subtlety.

Jamie Lloyd’s Much Ado About Nothing is a daring and inventive production that showcases Shakespeare through a modern lens. It won’t be for everyone; it’s desire to be a party piece leaves some aspects under explored and diminishes the emotional impact of others. Still, it remains an exhilarating theatrical experience anchored by stellar performances from its leads and ensemble.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

[darkmaga-returns]

For the first time in over two decades, baby formula in the U.S. is getting a serious safety overhaul. On Thursday, Secretary Kennedy announced, alongside HHS and the FDA, “Operation Stork Speed,” a major initiative aimed at improving the safety and nutritional quality of infant formula.

“We’re gonna review the formulations for the first time since 1998 and do comprehensive tests to make sure this is the healthiest product that our kids can have,” Kennedy announced.

But that’s just the beginning. Kennedy is also taking on the growing concerns around cell phone use in schools—something he says is hurting kids on multiple levels.

“There are many other countries in the world that have banned cell phones in our schools.”

“Cell phones also produce electric magnetic radiation, which has been shown to do neurological damage to kids when it’s around them all day.”

“Cell phone use and social media use on the cell phone has been directly connected with depression, poor performance in schools, suicidal ideation, and with substance abuse.”

[yourmomsawh0r3]

hiii i love your writing and i have a request for Marcello Hernandez 🫶🏼 in which reader hosts snl and marcello has a crush on her, always flirting and then they finally hook up

thanks ♥️

your wish is my command 🫡🫶🏼

Live From New York

pairing: marcello hernandez x F! actress

Marcello Hernández wasn’t sure when his crush on Y/N started, but it had been simmering since she’d first walked onto the Saturday Night Live set. She was a star in her own right a versatile actress known for her mix of charm, wit, and undeniable beauty. Y/N had skyrocketed to fame in recent years, and when it was announced she would be hosting SNL, Marcello felt a jolt of excitement he couldn’t quite explain.

They had met briefly at an afterparty a few months ago, where her disarming laugh and genuine warmth caught him off guard. She wasn’t just beautiful; she was magnetic. And now, she was here, standing in Studio 8H during rehearsals, chatting with the cast and crew like she’d been part of the family forever.

Marcello’s reputation as the show’s resident flirt wasn’t exactly a secret, but there was something different about Y/N. His jokes and teasing weren’t just about making her laugh they were his way of hiding just how much he liked her.

From the moment Y/N walked into the writers’ room, she commanded attention. Wearing a casual yet chic outfit high-waisted jeans and a cropped sweater she immediately bonded with the cast. Marcello, seated across the room, couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Marcello, you’re staring,” Bowen whispered, smirking.

Marcello rolled his eyes, trying to act casual. “I’m not staring. I’m observing. There’s a difference.”

“Right,” Bowen teased. “And I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s, you know, drop-dead gorgeous.”

“Shut up,” Marcello muttered, though he couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto his face.

When Y/N caught Marcello’s eye during a table read, she smiled a soft, knowing smile that made his heart skip a beat. She was funny, effortlessly so, and her comedic timing during sketches was impeccable.

During breaks, Marcello found excuses to linger near her.

“You’re pretty good at this whole hosting thing,” he said one afternoon, leaning against a table as she reviewed lines.

She looked up, her lips curling into a playful grin. “Pretty good? That’s the best compliment you’ve got?”

Marcello chuckled. “I’m saving the big compliments for when you actually make me laugh.”

“Oh, please,” she teased, rolling her eyes. “You laugh at everything.”

“Not true. I have standards.”

“Uh-huh. And I’m supposed to believe I don’t meet them?” she asked, her tone light but challenging.

Marcello felt his face flush, but he quickly recovered. “You’re getting close.”

By the time Saturday rolled around, Marcello was a bundle of nerves. Y/N had nailed every rehearsal, and the chemistry between them in their sketches was undeniable. One skit, in particular, had fans buzzing even before the live show aired a rom-com parody where Y/N and Marcello played a bickering couple who shared a passionate kiss at the end.

When it came time to perform the skit live, Marcello felt his palms sweat as they delivered their lines.

“Why do you always have to be so annoying?” Y/N’s character snapped, crossing her arms.

“Annoying? I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you,” Marcello shot back, stepping closer.

Their faces were inches apart, and for a moment, the lines blurred between acting and reality. When they finally kissed, the audience erupted in cheers, but Marcello could barely hear them. All he could focus on was the way her lips felt against his, soft and warm, even for just a few seconds.

The afterparty was held at a chic Manhattan bar, filled with cast members, crew, and a smattering of celebrity guests. Marcello couldn’t keep his eyes off Y/N as she worked the room, laughing and chatting with ease.

When she finally made her way over to him, drink in hand, she raised an eyebrow. “You were really committed to that kiss tonight.”

Marcello smirked, leaning casually against the bar. “What can I say? I’m a method actor.”

“Is that so?” she teased, taking a sip of her drink.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping. “If you want, we could run lines again sometime. You know, for practice.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. “You’re terrible.”

“Terribly charming, you mean.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Hernández.”

“And you love it,” he shot back, his confidence growing.

Hooking Up

As the night wore on, the crowd thinned, and the energy shifted. Marcello found himself alone with Y/N on the balcony, the cool air brushing against their skin.

“I had fun tonight,” she said softly, her eyes meeting his.

“Yeah?” he asked, stepping closer. “Was it the sketches or the kiss?”

She smirked, tilting her head. “You tell me.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. His hand cupped her cheek as he kissed her, this time without any cameras or scripts. Her hands gripped the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

“Marcello,” she murmured against his lips, her voice breathless.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers.

“Don’t you dare,” she replied, her eyes blazing.

They stumbled back into her dressing room, their hands frantically exploring each other. Marcello took his time, his lips trailing down her neck, his hands slipping under her blouse to feel the warmth of her skin.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

“Good,” she replied, pulling him closer. “Because you drive me crazy too.”

Their clothes hit the floor piece by piece, and Marcello’s kisses became slower, more deliberate. He worshiped every inch of her, making up for all the moments he’d spent holding back his feelings.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the blinds as Y/N stirred awake, her head resting on Marcello’s chest. He was already awake, his fingers brushing through her hair.

“Morning,” he said softly, his voice warm.

She smiled, her heart swelling. “Morning.”

“So,” he said, a teasing glint in his eye. “Does this mean I’m officially your favorite cast member?”

She laughed, swatting his chest. “Don’t push your luck, Hernández.”

But as she leaned up to kiss him, it was clear neither of them needed to say it they were exactly where they were meant to be.

[kellyvela]

How is Joan? Is it considered successful or not?

I think it is a success.

Comments on Twitter are vastly positive. You can read some here:

The first episode won over the BBC show airing at the same time.

The papers and magazine reviews are vastly positive as well, and even the ones that are negative, about the script for example, praise Sophie's acting despite their critics.

The Daily Mail gave it 5 stars:

Collider praises Sophie with these words:

Given that the real Joan Hannington's reputation was the talk of the time, with her even being nicknamed "The Godmother," this series' mission seems to be showing an alternate side to the woman who made headlines. What was she like when not in the middle of a scheme? The TV drama is able to deliver on this by relying on a compelling performance from Turner. The actress, who has played minor roles in projects like the X-Men franchise and Netflix's Do Revenge, successfully explores multiple facets of her character in this series. Turner captures Joan's vulnerability when it comes to proving herself to social services, her motherly instincts whenever she is granted the right to visit her daughter, and her cleverness when it comes to pulling off high-risk heists.

Turner's level of dedication to the part shines throughout the entire plot of Joan, showing that she is more than capable of embracing any genre, from an action-packed Marvel production to a noir drama like this. If it weren't for the emotions she conveys onscreen beyond her lines, Joan wouldn't successfully have showcased its lead's underlying motivation of fulfilling her dream of being in a picture-perfect family. Although her actions consequently draw her away from her goal, we can believe that Joan becomes immersed in the crime world for a deeper reason.

[...] Yet, the production does function as a testament of Turner's ability to take on meaty lead roles, and the character's stunning wardrobe will surely make you wish you could steal it.

~~~

The Times gave it 4 stars:

Turner’s main achievement in this role is making the multilayered Hannington real, human and believable, not just a one-note “rough diamond with a heart”. Turner is famous for her role as Sansa Stark in Game of Thrones, but this performance is surely a career-best.

You could absolutely believe that Joan was a loving mother of a little girl and quite a hard-faced criminal. You could believe she was a woman used and abused by men, but also willing to make victims of others (wealthy “others”). That she was poor and vulnerable, but also had rhino-hide resilience.

[...] But Turner steals every scene with a magnetic performance, such as when the pervy jewellery shop manager tried it on with her and she cleverly swerved him by pretending she had “the painters in’’, or when she swallowed loose diamonds on impulse and she later retrieved them in the bathroom with the help of, er, a sieve. Let’s not dwell too long on the mechanics of that.

~~~

More from the Sunday Times:

~~~

More praise to Sophie:

As for Turner, I could watch her forever. In part, it’s her face: the cheekbones that make you think of bone-handled knives. Whether from Etam or Harrods, the clobber suits her. And boy, she can act. Hannington was a notorious shape-shifter – a brilliant impersonator – and Turner has a way with voices, layering poshness on top of light cockney just thinly enough for the audience to feel nervous, jeopardy trailing her character like Dior Poison.

She looks to me like she’s having the time of her life, and who can blame her? What a jewel of a role: a diamond as big as the Ritz.

~~~

From The Guardian:

Sophie Turner is spectacular as notorious real-life jewel thief Joan Hannington in this slick 80s-set drama. The six-parter starts with devoted mother Joan reluctantly giving her daughter up to social services after underworld bosses come for her abusive husband. Determined to get her kid back, she uses her glamour, charm and sharp mind to build a new life – starting with taking a job in a jeweller’s that specialises in diamonds.

~~~

From Radio Times, read the last part about Sophie:

~~~

More positive comments:

~~~

From Tatler Magazine:

~~~

From New Zeland Magazine Flicks:

~~~

And the list continues . . . .

[pleasereadmeok]

A Goode year? ... 2024

Time for my usual review of Matthew Goode's (public) year. I usually sit down to write these thinking - hmm - we didn’t see enough of Matthew Goode this year and then get surprised by the number of Goode things that happened. But this year - OMFG there was hardly anything to write about. WTF? I know we have had droughts in the past but it's been a very lean year for Goode fans.

Oh well - we will make the most of the crumbs that we had.

January

December 2023's promotion of 'Freud's Last Session' continued into January and the praise kept on coming for Matthew's performance as CS Lewis.

Fans never doubted that Matthew would more than hold his own playing opposite Anthony Hopkins but it was still fantastic to have critic and audience reviews confirm our views.

These are some random reviews that appeared in January ....

Matthew Goode proves himself as a reliable character performer as Lewis. Squaring off against Hopkins is no easy feat, but the actor holds his own with quiet determinedness. [Punk Drunk Critics]

“It couldn’t be better cast, with both Hopkins and Goode slipping right into the skins of their characters and creating a sparkling chemistry. When the two are together the film makes for a mesmerizing study. “ [Keith and the movies com]

“Much of what we get is truly great material and the performances from Hopkins and Goode are exceptional.[Keith and the movies com]

Matthew Goode (“The Offer,” “The Imitation Game”) as C.S. Lewis, meanwhile, is as straightforward as Hopkins is slippery, and the two make a good pair. Lewis is not intimidated by Freud, nor is Goode intimidated by Hopkins. Both Goode and Lewis regard their older interlocutor with a mix of respect, affection and skepticism, as well as with a confident willingness to let a brilliant old showoff go into his dance. [San Fanscisco Chronicle]

Hopkins and Goode give masterful performances that transcend the conversation at hand.  [National Catholic Reporter]

February

In amongst the buzz around 'Freud's Last Session' we finally got confirmation of that Netflix series Matthew said he was due to start filming. Great news coz it's a goode one - a crime drama series, 'Department Q' adapted from the books written by Danish author Jussi Adler-Olsen.

📷 Netflix

The showrunner is Scott Frank who Matthew previously worked with on the 2007 film, 'The Lookout'.

Here's a summary from Deadline - Goode will play DCI Carl Morck. After a violent incident turns Morck’s life upside down, the emotionally scarred detective is charged with setting up cold case unit, Department Q, upon his return to work. At first, the disillusioned cop is happy to waste his days away, but his detective instincts are ultimately reawakened and his new department becomes a magnet for a crew of misfits and mavericks.

It got better at the very end of February coz we got the first proof of life for 2024 [we need more of those please] when Matthew attended the special screening of 'Freud's Last Session' in London. He was showing off his full 'Carl Morck' beardiness for the first time in public and we loved it.

📷 Yaffa Meskell

March

The promos for FLS kept rolling and extra screenings were added.... but then HACKETT!

Matthew joined up with Jenson Button and Hackett again to give us the Spring/Summer campaign. We got to see Matthew posing with doggies, playing croquet and looking cosy in beige (yes - BEIGE!) cardigans - so just your average trip to Seville. Although sitting on that trunk looks a bit eye watering. 😬 Ouch

📷 Tom Craig for Hackett

BUT the goode stuff kept coming coz cheeky Matthew had done a whole new movie appearance and WHO KNEW???? Well - we did ... in March.

Matthew was due to appear in the vampy movie 'Abigail' and we speculated about his role. Actually we didn't have to speculate too much coz when we found out that Abigail had a big, bad DADDY - we just knew. Vampy Dad 2 was coming soon!

April

In April we got some early sightings of Matthew doing a 'Carl' around Edinburgh including some squeally fan encounters. Loved this one from Sara Maude -

📷 Sara Maude

Sara told Edinburgh Live - "I absolutely had to get a picture with him, and I believe if you don't ask you don't get! He was an absolute delight, warm, friendly and down to earth - a true gent. To me, he is a sex god, and I was delighted to share that with him."

'Abigail' opened in April and we got to see Matthew as another vampy dad but this time - WITH FANGS!

OMG how he managed to even speak with those babies in his mouth was a mystery. But he was excellent as the supremely creepy vamp Kristof Lazar and audiences loved him too. His 'dinner' line brought the house down when I saw this 😂 Frikkin' hilarious.

Meanwhile 'Freud's Last Session' was going down well in Australia and there was lots of new praise for Matthew's portrayal of CS Lewis.

May

Oh, hello - here he is again in May. We know that Matthew is a totally geeky dad but - FISHING???

📷 James Murray

All in a good cause coz Matthew joined up with James Murray, Burn Gorman and Dominic West to catch some fishies (and put them back I hope) to promote the 'Off the table' campaign against farmed salmon.

📷 James Murray, Burn Gorman and 'Off the Table'

June

'Freud's Last Session' got its cinema release in the UK (at bloody last!) so I got to see Matthew on the big screen for the second time this year. Woohoo!

July

Nothing. Seriously, I GOT NOTHING!

August

There was a tiny update on 'Tally Ho' AKA 'Spiked' [Sort the name out guys - what's it gonna be?]

Kapers Animation gave us a few more pics of the amnesiac rabbit Walter - who will be our next crush - coz he's played by Matthew. So that's a given.

📷 Kapers Animation

Later in August 'A Discovery of Witches' popped up on Netflix in the US - which was great for the 3 people in the US who hadn't seen it yet. Seriously - so many more people discovering the joy of vampy Matthew is always GOODE news.

📷 Sky

September

Yep - you guessed it. Nothing.

October

To be fair I wasn't fully conscious for most of October so I probably missed stuff. None of the usual October golf appearances - so sad for him coz he bloody loves hitting a tiny ball with a stick. But nothing doing.

I know Matthew went on holiday with the family but that he and Sophie still found time to do something beyond kind for a very grateful fan. ☺️

November

Another proof of life at last thanks to the fabulous David Max Freedman - he knows we love BTS of Matthew and he delivered this of Goodey doing his ADR for 'Tally Ho'/'Spiked' -

📷 David Max Freedman

December

A truly bleak month with nothing. Not one scrap of news except that Department Q doesn't seem to be in Q1 for Netflix so we have to wait ...

But according to the Kapers website it looks like 'Tally Ho'/ 'Spiked' will be with us in Q1 next year

So bring it on Walt!

YEEEES!

Goode things coming... Spiked/Tally Ho, Department Q and what else? Last year Matthew was in 'talks' to possibly revisit the character of Robert Evans for something. The Wine Show season 4? Another movie or 3? Who knows? Whatever it is - it will be GOODE!

[quinnfebrey]

Hi! How was the show? Like is it good being an updated version? Did it work well? What are the songs? How were the performances?

hi!! it was amazing!! i paid $180 and i can say that if i lived in nyc i would definitely pay to watch it again from different angles!! it’s a circular theater and would honestly feel like a brand new production just from a different seat

romeo and juliet is so widely known and so trope-infused that, at least to me, it can feel like a drag to watch sometimes? like, i have at least 30% of it close to memorized, and i’m not a shakespeare connoisseur by any means, it’s just that known. i think that revivals of plays like r+j are best judged based on whether they are able to breathe new life into the story, and i can say that this one absolutely did

overall:

the staging and lighting is SO magnetic and engaging. there is a lot of audience interaction and full use of the entire room, not just the stage. the actors constantly moved around, engaged with the audience, climbed up and lowered down. the staging was entertaining and fresh, and i felt more absorbed than i ever have in a stage version of r+j. the modernization was fresh without being forced, and i absolutely love how this version REALLY brought out the humor, which i found was perfect at making the lines more digestible on first listen and also lessening the This Is Sad energy

performances:

rachel zegler: when r+j bway was announced, i was one of many severely disappointed that rachel’s broadway debut was not going to be a singing role, but *spoiler* she sings twice in this version and is fantastic both times. she plays juliet’s youthful determination very well, and her diction is incredible. amazing chemistry with kit. i think misogyny and trope creation often waters down juliet to just a Girl In Love but this one was far more than that. you truly feel like she has her own agency and maturity without either of those things taking away the devastation of her youth. rachel was born for the stage, i NEED her to be the next eurydice and would fly back to nyc just for that if she did

kit connor: i haven’t seen heartstopper outside of the “hi” “hi” memes so i was a little nervous about whether i could take kit seriously but he absolutely killed it. he brings so much humor to romeo in a way that accentuates his youth and makes his naivety and impulsivity far less irritating. romeo is too often played seriously through and through and to me it makes him unlikeable and unsympathetic. kit leaned into a softer, funnier side that worked very very well. he has a voice made to deliver shakespeare and a great stage presence, i would honestly love to see him in more plays

tommy dorfman: double cast as the nurse and tybalt, i found tommy more enjoyable as tybalt. the nurse was played a little bit too young but i think that might have been done to make it more obvious when she was the nurse and when she was tybalt. i love the inflections she put into her lines in both roles, and even if i didn’t vibe with her nurse i think that is more a personal opinion than a review of her talent, and if you DO vibe then you will probably LOVE it

gabby beans: double cast as the friar and mercutio, i thought she did a great job adapting the integrity of the shakespeare to a modern interpretation. i did find her friar a little bit unmemorable and will remember her as mercutio with more specificity

sola fadiran: double cast as capulet/lady capulet he was AMAZING. those are generally just exposition roles (in my opinion) but he did a fantastic job at bringing more to it. particularly the scene where capulet tells juliet she is going to marry paris, the starkness between his two roles is so apparent and such a mark of talent

taheen modak: such a fresh benvolio, this role needs perfect chemistry with romeo and he absolutely had it. they were just bros being dudes and i found all of their interactions so so good, touching when necessary and funny when possible. i think that benvolio can sometimes be seen as just Romeo’s Friend but this one was truly his own character

the music: it was good but jack antonoff is really only capable of making one song so it kind of sounded like romeo and juliet with midnights instrumental in the background lol. which isn’t to say it was bad, but it was very Jack in a way that i wish it felt more anonymous

tldr:

so so good! must see if you’re in nyc. worth the trip if you are a shakespeare, rachel, or kit fan. go in with an open mind and be ready to feel more engaged than you probably ever have watching shakespeare

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG SUB] Bojan Cvjetićanin and Nace Jordan on 'Na sceni', Val 202 (19.11.2024)

Bojan and Nace discuss the process of making the new album, 'Souvenir Pop', the songs 'Mesto duhov', 'Muzika za decu', 'Stephanie', 'Ako toga više neće biti' and 'Lips', and the therapeutic note Nace brings to the band.

The original audio, including the songs which are cut out here for copyright reasons, can be found here.

Transcript and translation by a member of JokerOutSubs, review by IG 10_anja, proofread by IG GBoleyn123, subtitles by @vesdagrem and a member of JokerOutSubs.

Full video with transcript below the cut 👇

Host: Good evening, welcome to Val 202. You're listening to Radio Slovenia, the second programme. The 'Na sceni' ('On the Scene') broadcast has just begun and today's guests are from the band Joker Out. Good evening.

Bojan: Good evening.

Nace: Good evening.

Nace Jordan and Bojan Cvjetićanin have come to our studio. They've taken precious minutes out of their probably too-full schedule. Bojan, what's that been like for the past year and a half?

Bojan: The schedule is nicely full, but an interview like this one today, these are nice notes on the calendar, so...

Thank you.

Bojan: Thank you for hosting us.

Nace, how have things changed after the second album, 'Demoni', has anything changed at all?

Nace: That'd be hard for me to comment on, since I only joined the band with the second album.

Bojan: Well, has anything changed for you?

Nace: A lot of things have changed for me. I became a member of a band. I finally have a band with my peers, kind of, and we've created a new album. We suddenly saw a big part of Europe, by playing concerts in... how many countries did we visit, I don't even know. Well, in most of Europe. And... I hope we'll go somewhere outside of Europe as soon as possible, too.

And that would be only right. You're one of the few Slovenian ensembles, performers, who have even managed a feat like that.

Bojan: I mean, we managed to do something really nice. Basically in one night, I'd say, from that... if we think of it as the final night of Eurovision flowing into our new band era. We really went from a band that performed practically exclusively in Slovenia to a band that, in the past year and a half, performed, I would say, exclusively outside of Slovenia. So we definitely had a 180-degree turn happen to us, but I'd say that we really took the proper steps on this path too, even though it happend, I'd say... well, very quickly, but we didn't get ahead of ourselves. So I'd say that, as a band, we're still held together by nice foundations and roots.

The album is called 'Souvenir Pop', so it'll forever be written down somewhere as a kind of memory, right?

Bojan: That's right!

A pop one, even though a few songs are quite, let's say, well, significantly harder.

Bojan: Yes...

How come, it's a live experience, right?

Bojan: Yeah, you know what it is? We're children of a generation of parents who always said that you should bring a magnet home when you go somewhere. It was always like that for me. You absolutely had to bring a magnet from a trip. And these songs are actually, with all the memories and all the emotions they pull, they're magnets that we've all brought together and collected in a bag and they will forever remain very tangible souvenirs for us, I'm sure.

First up was 'Mesto duhov'. Bojan?

Bojan: Yes, 'Mesto duhov' is actually, I'd say, the first absolutely pessimistic song I've ever written. I have to say that I'm pretty sad and unhappy every time I wake up from the slumber of everyday life and realise that there is constant injustice and inequality and basically impossible living conditions around us. And... I also started to feel that in the general climate for the first time. I feel that people have a different aura around them, that we're all on some kind of high alert. There's a lot more of a negative whiff in the air. Young people are pretty pessimistic. That's how I perceived the current climate, not only at home, but basically wherever we went. So I think that 'Mesto duhov' was a very clear reflection of how I felt when I first walked through the streets of Ljubljana when I came home after a longer period of time, which never happened to me before, I was never away for that long.

Nace, the next one is called 'Muzika za decu'.

Nace: Yes.

How did you fall into... I won't say the Joker Out machine, but into this creative process of yours, or, how are songs generated?

Nace: This song actually has a very interesting origin. That is, if I remember correctly, in the six weeks that we spend in the studio in Hamburg, we were kind of waiting for Bojan to write and bring another song which we would then put our instruments over, and in one moment, Bojan said: "We're not doing it that way anymore. We'll do a song here tomorrow and that song will be a hit, will be the best." And I have to say he wasn't wrong because we grabbed our instruments and... That was definitely one of the highlights of those six weeks in Hamburg. I think that was when we lived like a band the most, or felt a kind of mutual energy the most, we took the instruments and played that together. And I think Bojan had an idea in the back of his mind.

Bojan: No, I had... I had something on the piano. Pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa.

Nace: That idea.

Bojan: But it was called 'Zlatna kosica' ('Golden Hair') initially, I have no idea what it was, something like "how I'm drawn by your golden hair", which just, I didn't feel like constantly drilling the piano, so Kris did it on the guitar...

Nace: That's right.

Bojan: Then it was very clear where the song was going, even with that busted guitar. But it had an attitude, and just bam, 'Muzika za decu'.

Nace: I think it has, the whole song captured exactly that energy.

Bojan: I came up with the lyrics while singing. The idea was that because I was recording on, I don't know, an SM58 or something, which is a microphone that you generally use for live singing, not recording. And I was in the place with them while all the instruments were rattling, and the plan was just that... Okay, the lyrics work, even if I came up with them more or less on the spot, but I'd record the vocals again in Ljubljana. I came to Ljubljana, I recorded with a proper studio microphone, it was a catastrophe and then poor Žare had to clean all those vocal channels of all the noise surrounding it. So this song is truly, the way we did it at our place there, that's how it came out, from start to finish.

Great, so Joker Out, the album is 'Souvenir Pop', the third album in a row, this will be 'Muzika za decu'.

You're listening to 'Na sceni'. Our guests on Val 202 are members of Joker Out, they are Nace Jordan and Bojan Cvjetićanin. The album is a bit of a mix of languages, right? On purpose. Three Slovenian ones, four Serbian ones and a few English ones.

Bojan: True.

Did someone from your headquarters recommend that you do that?

Bojan: The soul. The soul recommended it. The songs are written in the language in which they came up when I started writing them. With the exception of 'Mesto duhov', which was initially a song called 'Wembury Mews', which was our street in London that we lived on. But I then ended up writing it in Slovenian because I had a story that resonated with something I wanted to tell, and I think it also coincided very well with the music. But no, like... We travelled a whole lot, I thought and spoke in those three languages a lot and that just came out of me in the way of songwriting. I think that it was a very clear, at least clear to me, reflection of parts of me that come out completely differently when I think about them in a different language.

Anyway, the team is now that you've joined as the last one, Nace, still the same, right? Who are the other three matadors?

Nace: The other three are Peteh Jan, guitarist, Kris Guštin, guitarist, and Jure Maček, drummer.

And if you spend six weeks together in the studio and live somewhere together, like some kind of football team, do you ever argue?

Nace: Of course we do, it's normal to have a moment when you disagree with someone. But I think that now we've spent so much time together, we know each other well enough to spot which one of us might be in a not-great mood in that moment and give him some space or sometimes agree with him for the sake of mutually good energy.

Bojan: But I was thinking that we've actually never argued in the sense of fighting. There have absolutely always been many disagreements as far as creating and logistics and all that stuff go. But there was never a moment of something blowing up. Genuinely. I don't remember that happening. So that's very good. But that's the consequence of us constantly clearing things up, and... We don't allow anything to inflate that balloon and for everything to end up exploding, but... Nace, for example, is the most important, let's say, member of this relationship. Especially because he brought this "filtering" dynamic into the band, because he's actually the only person who always calls all of us the moment he feels that there's a bad mood in the air. You always get a call from Nace: "Is everything okay? Today I sensed that things were a little off, what happened? If you want to talk, you can hit me up." So I'd say that Nace also brought a very healthy therapeutic aspect to this band.

Commendable, of course. You need that too, you'd probably have a hard time without it. Up next is 'Stephanie', so an English one.

Bojan: 'Stephanie' is actually an interesting song. I wrote just the line "Her name is Stephanie, she lives about a thousand miles away from me" about three years ago, but it didn't actually have any kind of story, except the melody and this line that sounded nice to me. But by now, things have already happened in my life that actually gave it its story so the song wrote itself very naturally after that. It kind of has a slightly different sound. Because we didn't really know what to do with the song, Žare Pak and I kind of patched it together with his famous Reason programme for creating percussion. And then Nace played around with programming for an hour or twelve.

Nace: The song is interesting because most of us don't play our primary instrument in this song.

Bojan: That's true.

Bojan: Jan...

Rotation.

Bojan & Nace: Yes.

Bojan: Jan and I are on the bass.

Nace: Kris and I are on the guitars.

Bojan: Yes. I played the keyboards.

Nace: I also played the keyboards. I mean, like, it's something completely different.

Yeah, that must contribute to the vibe.

Nace: Yes.

Bojan: Yeah, I mean, making this album was quite the sandbox. Sometimes you had to fight for the toy rake you liked the most.

So, 'Stephanie' and Joker Out. Tonight's guests in 'Na sceni' are Bojan Cvjetićanin and Nace Jordan, Joker Out, of course. 'Souvenir Pop' is the third album, Jernej Vene is with you. There are two concerts in Cvetličarna coming up, both sold out. You're not going to a bigger place on purpose, right? Because you like proximity. What does the audience give to you?

Bojan: We're not going to a bigger place, or a different place, on purpose because we presented the first album twice, in a twice sold-out Cvetličarna. That was absolutely, if not the most beautiful, then one of the most beautiful moments of our lives. This year, when we've been away from home so much and played in clubs so much, we saw what a good effect that club energy truly has on us. How much of a reciprocal "give and take" moment it is, meaning, you give your all and the audience gives it all back to you and the same thing happens for them. So we said that we wanted to play at home, somewhere we also feel at home. That is definitely home to us.

There's actually a bit of a problem now since you have three albums. How do you pick the songs for the concert?

Nace: I mean, we just started that this week, when Bojan wasn't here, putting it together a bit already, what should be played, and it's actually a real problem because there are a lot of songs that are "the juicy ones", as we call them. Those are the songs we have to play or that we like to play or that...

Bojan: For a 'Greatest Hits' album.

Nace: Yes. The juicy ones. And alongside the new album, which we'll play in its entirety at the upcoming concerts, there are too many of these songs to fit into a two-hour concert so we'll definitely...

Bojan: Oh, we have such horrible problems.

Nace: No, no, no. I mean, it's a problem because some fans want to hear one song, others another, so we'll probably change the playlist a bit between the concerts so that we can play at least something for everyone.

Moving on. 'Ako toga više neće biti'.

Bojan: I don't know, it's probably my favourite song from this album. One of my favourites in general, as well. I think we feel it. It was a bit weird initially. I remember that when I showed the boys a rough idea, they weren't really sure what, basically... What the poet wanted to say¹.

¹It is a phrase commonly used in Serbo-Croatian speaking area, meaning that it is hard to understand what the author of the original piece of art wanted to say, the meaning isn’t transparent or clear right away. This phrase also has another word used sometimes, it’s pisac instead of pesnik; in that case it translates as ‘What the writer wanted to say’. Pisac is a writer, but the meaning of the phrase is the same.

I'd say that this is where we sound the most like a band. Well, maybe here and in 'Muzika za decu'. But purely from the sound aspect and from a kind of vibe aspect, this recording makes me feel the most like I'm listening to a band that's playing in the same space. Because most of it actually was played together, as well. I like it. It's organic, it's very close to my heart.

So, 'Ako toga više neće biti' and Joker Out.

Joker Out in 'Na sceni'. The album 'Souvenir Pop’ is their third one. Bojan and Nace are here. After Ljubljana, you're on the road again soon, or what?

Bojan: That's right.

Nace: True, true. We're going around the Balkans for a bit, that is, I think we're starting in Novi Sad², continuing in Belgrade, Skopje, Zagreb, then we're returning to Maribor and finishing in Vienna.

²The concert in Novi Sad was later rescheduled due to a tragic event that happened in the city when a canopy at the railway station collapsed, killing several people.

That's still for this year.

Bojan: That's for this year, yes.

We continue with another Slovenian one, titled 'Sonce'.

Bojan: Yes, 'Sonce' is a song that came about as basically my direct response to what's currently happening in Palestine. I actually kind of had a story in my head of a son who's saying goodbye to his mother from the afterlife and is basically addressing his mum with those words. So I'd say it's a pretty atypical song for us, seeing as there's no repeat chorus, or that it doesn't have the kind of classic song structure. And I absolutely have to say that Jan did an incredible arrangement, and wrote his own piano part and recorded it as well, which really added even more dots to the 'i' for the song. So I'm glad that it's basically... what I wanted to say with my voice, Jan completely encompassed with the piano as well, so... It's a heavy song to listen to, at least for us, I'd say, but still beautiful. It fits onto this album.

Joker Out on 'Na sceni'.

Bojan and Nace are still tonight's guests. We won't ask about plans because they happen on their own, right. Are there any days that aren't planned?

Bojan: Absolutely.

Nace: Definitely.

To clear your heads, right?

Bojan: Yes, yes, yes. I mean, in general I think that Nace and I in particular are not really the type of people to... When...  Yeah.

Nace: To set up schedules for ourselves.

Bojan: Yes, we're not the type of people to have a schedule, especially for free days. And, I don't know, for me, even with days that are planned, I often happen to wander off somewhere. And it's by accident, but... I don't know.

Nace: I mean, everything is definitely organised so that we at least have mornings free. So, if we do want to seize the day, we just wake up a little earlier.

Bojan: Yeah, right. Stop it.

Nace: Well, look, it happens, stuff happens. You go to sleep too early...

Bojan: Yeah, okay.

N: ... and you seize the day.

Bojan: That's right.

Nace: Early.

For the end of the broadcast another English one, 'Lips'.

Bojan: 'Lips' is truly a song that had many forms. It started out as 'Je t'aime'. A Franz Ferdinand-esque rock song with French and English. It ended up as... what kind of genre would that be, if any?

Nace: I'd call it cinematic rock

Bojan: Cinematic... wow. There you go, a cinematic rock song. It's also, I'd say, a departure from our traditional sound. This is in large part thanks to Nace on my right, because he arranged practically the whole song as well as put it into its sound form. He really put in the effort here and spent a whole lot of time on it, so we really have to say "Thank you!" to Nace here. Or, if you don't like the song, tell him to get lost, but...

Nace: I'm the one at fault, yes.

Bojan: Yeah, I mean, I like it, I think I had a very determined vision of how I wanted the vocals to work in this song. Whereas what would happen around it was kind of a mistery to me. So Nace, with his cinematic rock, hit the nail on the head with me too.

Nace: But as a fun fact, well... this song was happening in the studio, we were in a bit of a hurry, honestly.

Bojan: At the end, yes.

Nace: We were in a bit of a hurry at the end, and one evening, I was like: "It can't be like that." I got...

Bojan: Yes, Žare and I made the basic beat and stuff, but it was very bland. And then Nace, in five hours or so, put something together and sent back something that, if we put it as a trailer for, I don't know, James Bond or something, it'd be awesome.

Nace: As a fun fact, I did all that while lying in bed.

Bojan: Well, there you go.

Nace: On my laptop.

Bojan: Such hard work, that you can do it in bed on your laptop.

Fun. Gentlemen, thank you for visiting us.

Bojan: Thank you for the invite.

Nace: Gladly.

And good luck on all the roads ahead of you in the next year and beyond.

Bojan: Thank you.

Right, to finish off, 'Lips'. The album is 'Souvenir Pop', Joker Out is the band, you know all that. Nace Jordan and Bojan Cvjetićanin were with you. Jernej Vene, signing off. Until next time, to plenty of good music. Goodbye.

Bojan: Goodbye.

Nace: Goodbye.

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[rock-and-roll-hell]

December 22, 1977

Alive II Tour

The Spectrum - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

From a local review: "KIϟϟ does not need songs to be an exciting stage act. The foursome, which is ranked at the top of the rock pile, has blazed a path in the musical world with its outlandish garb and hard-driving rock music. It's set records which put it in a league with the Beatles as far as audience appeal is concerned. Last night was another example of the group's drawing power. It sold out the Spectrum - a claimed attendance of 15,500 persons - many weeks in advance of the performance. And the performance itself... the music was passable, but the staging and the theatrics were the equal to any legitimate stage production. KIϟϟ has admitted in the past that its music is not its strongest point. The four have become competent musicians during the long years they have spent touring and playing together but they are far from being super musicians. The draw of KIϟϟ is its features four average musicians who are above-average actors. Not only actors but technicians in the art of generating a crowd magnetism. Last night's staging for the group's concert fell somewhere between the futuristic and the fantastic. The group played from a multi-level stage. It opened with guitarists Paul Stanley and Ace Frehley and bassist Gene Simons standing on platforms above the stage level. Drummer Peter Criss was on a platform of his own which remained more or less on one level throughout the show but even the drummer's platform was rigged for some exciting activity. As the band started to play, the upper platforms of the guitarists and bass player began to move toward stage level through their hydraulic systems and the stage simultaneously was layered with fog, blazed by a multitude of lights and was resounding with the after-shocks of planned stage explosions. The chrome and glass stage never ceased to be a marvel with its intricate lighting and design. A snake, coiled around a pole, would alternately spew fog and fire over the stage. Sections of the stage would rise 10-feet-or-more above its base to accentuate a band member's solo. Guitars exploded, lights flashed, confetti rained from above, blood flowed... there never was a point during the concert when the audience even could think of being bored. If anything, it was more like a three-ring circus and if you did not watch the show closely, you stood the chance of missing one of its more subtle nuances, although subtlety was a rarity. If the staging, pyrotechnics and related stage business does not sound flashy enough, you still have to take into consideration the costuming of the group. The members never have been pictured out of makeup. On stage, Criss is a whiskered feline; Simmons is a lizard with a long snaking tongue; Frehley is a surrealistic spaceman, and Stanley, the on-stage group leader, is the star-eyed sex symbol with an exposed hairy chest. They all dress in black, with silver accents, and wear platformed shoes of nose-bleed proportions. During the course of the show, all of the group members, with the exception of Criss, took the band's helm for solo vocals. If it seems that this review is giving the music second-billing to the show, it is because the music was secondary to the show. KIϟϟ will continue to draw astronomical numbers to its concerts as long as it, too remembers, music is not its primary message -- the show's the thing" (Bucks Co. Courier Times, 12/23/77).

[seat-safety-switch]

The Mafia of Incompetence is out to get me, and not even for the first time this week. There’s all kinds of reasons these non-aligned dimbulb thugs wish me harm, but chief among them is my insistence that I must always receive my RockAuto magnets.

Perhaps you are unfamiliar. You see, RockAuto is a modern e-commerce corporation. It exists as sort of amorphous blob. Old-school parts warehouses, retail operations, and liquidators go out of business all the time. RockAuto scoops up those car parts and sells them over the internet. One of the things they include with every order is at least one small, rectangular refrigerator magnet, of another freak's car.

Time was, you could count on four things in life: gravity, death, taxes, and RockAuto magnets showing up with your order. Now, fewer than that many things are true. Border patrol has been getting increasingly sticky-fingered around my part of the world, and I'll often have a RockAuto package show up with different tape on it, missing all of its packing material and – critically – the magnet.

I've complained to my local political representative, using virtually the same words as I'm speaking to you now. They ignored me, because they have real problems to solve (what caviar to pair with which wine, how to give a larger tax break than 100% to oil companies.) I had to take matters into my own hands. Contrary to popular belief, a background check for the federal government is really easy to fake. Soon, I was the government's newest parcel snoop.

That's where I met my then-coworker, now-friend, Shaky Tim. You see, he was the one stealing the magnets. I caught him red handed my first day. When all the other border guards went to lunch, he stayed behind and hacked open a bunch of the RockAuto packages. His desk at work was laden with the things, a cascading pile many inches thick of gleaming hot-rods, warm-rods, and even cold-rods.

Ethically, I was in a bit of a pickle. Reporting him to my "superiors" would stop the flow of my magnets into his pockets, but it would result in no other benefit to myself. Ignoring him was out of the question: my refrigerator still had at least a few square inches of empty space on its fascia. When in doubt, make like King Solomon: we decided to split the booty. I wouldn't report him, and he'd punch my time card for me and come by with a shopping bag full of magnets every weekend.

We've been doing this for a few years now, and everything was going great. My boss had been giving me glowing performance reviews, based entirely on my ability to not embarrassingly fuck up at work. And my pension was fattening nicely. Unfortunately, Shaky Tim was the weak point in the whole apparatus. He had a crisis of conscience, and quit the government altogether rather than admit his horrible crime. Doing so backed up the entire works: all the remaining border guards were not nearly as motivated to process RockAuto packages quickly. I didn't get my new Mikuni carb floats for, like, a whole week.

[pencil-inc]

#6

I haven’t talked about the testing yet.

It's a mess. Looking back at it now it’s hard to sift through hard how much of it there was, at least in my head.

It was frayed with complication and constant self-improvement, interweaving ideas of theory and barely correlated statistics, stitched with moments of cloisters of people huddled around glass waiting for something to happen. The thing you're looking for to tie it all off. Get that proof of theory (at least a few times over),  get it "reviewed", publish, profit, repeat.

PENCIL made a lot of its money by ghost-writing research papers, bogus or otherwise, and selling them off, but that’s another story.

The work was only scientific because we deemed it so, because most of the results only appeared where the data could survive, when we cherrypicked and cut corners to fit the molds.

I’m guessing less than half of our findings were genuine. Can’t take back what you put out there though; just debunk, retract where you can, and move on.

The one thing we didn't skimp on was safety and security. Employees that didn't give the game of the facility away, and could stay alive, and wanted to come back and keep working (for the sake of the paycheck or not) were gold star scientists. Even better if they were LEAD ambassadors.

The content of the tests as is... well, I can't breach Tumblr’s TOS.

They were mechanical, verbal, psychological, logical; we just hurled all kinds of things at them (literally or not). The press just got wind of the more brutal ones. I shared one that was just that, with Jamie, because that's how you play the game with this. You play to the heart, you write to shock. Science was like a game that got boring to those people, so they changed the rules, spiced things up a little. They left the inductivists on the doorstep.

Unpredictability in the face of a science that should be consistent and certainty was the only certainty we had, from method to practice.

I liked (if I can call it a like anymore without sounding delusional) the psychological tests the most. Influencing the subjects with varying stimuli, giving them illogical, paradoxical tasks, observing reactions... that, to me (back then), was the essence of a toon: the reaction, like an inked pen to a page.

Like forcing magnets together.

“The blood and ink and organs are visual wonders to the human mind, yes, but gazing deep into the inner workings of minds we understand even less than our own, perhaps even seeing decades of influence from the world and the animator they came from, feels crucial to the inherent power that toons hold as a foundation for our understanding of them.”

That sentence(!) was left in a chat log from an old colleague; some draft of their research paper that they never finished.

Academics write prose like that all the time, sure, but the test records always looked more performance review than a findings write-up.

Like I said: a game with different rules.

I have a lot of test records lying around- I’ll show you what I mean.

— R